#we’ll see him finally being happy and true to himself | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugugasm · 6 months ago

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. ༉‧₊ 𝐀 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄

✧ synopsis : after almost a decade of a healthy marriage, four kids, and a stressful bakery opening, you and toji have learned to take your alone time very seriously.

✧ tags : firefighter! toji + baker! reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, blk fem reader ofc, mentions of alcohol, public sex ?? in the car, mentions of vaginal penetration, cowgirl, pet names like bby, love, pretty, mama bc yall already know etc, excuse any errors. i wrote this in a few different povs at first so — 𝟓.𝟖𝐊 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 smiles as he pulls into his driveway, the familiar cacophony of squeals and thuds greeting him before he’d even opened the door - the kiddos must’ve been riding the after dinner sugar high. cheerfully shaking his head, he braced himself for the chaos and noise that awaited inside your now shared, cozy little place the two of you have grown to call home.

it’d been nearly six years since that fateful summer when you’d quite literally swept into his life like a swirl of sunshine and baked goods. six years of dizzying ups and downs, laughter and tears, the most intense love he’d ever known to face. sometimes it still didn’t feel real, even now - this life you’d built from the spark of simple flirting over sweets n’ crème brulee.

so much had happened in that span of adventures : you, graduating at the top of your culinary class, your desserts and pastries that you’d stressed so hard about being the toast of the competition circuit. toji retiring as lieutenant of the fire department after over a decade of service, not daring to miss out on any more milestones as the two of you started your family. not to mention the whirlwind of wedding plans, and then the magical day itself where you vowed forever to each other in front of family and friends.

then the true blessings had come along, one right after the other - megumi, who was still adjusting to the new family dynamic of it all, but was yet so proud of his father. little rascally rose, a firecracker just like her mama with the same bright eyes and full curls. goofy, tender-hearted kenji who practically worshipped his big brother and sister, wanting nothing more than to mimic their every move and be just like his papa. and finally malachai, the happy surprise baby who seemed to have inherited the best of both his parents’ feisty personalities.

toji wouldn’t trade this beautiful chaos for anything in the world. but he’d be lying if he said the constant juggling act of family life wasn’t difficult - for the both of you. it was rare for you guys to get a real moment alone together, just the two of you. your intimacy had cooled down amidst all the lovely distractions, as had the simple art of conversation beyond trading information about grocery lists and pediatrician appointments.

date nights had become a long forgotten luxury, almost seemingly impossible to coordinate when your trusted babysitters were your siblings with families of their own. but tonight, uncle satoru had stepped up and volunteered his services, giving toji and you a well overdue opportunity to reconnect.

toji unbuckles his seatbelt and exited the truck, tamping down a flutter of nerves. what if the easy rhythm and sizzling chemistry you’d once shared was gone for good? a victim of sleep deprivation and chicken nugget overdoses? what if it was too late to rekindle that spark?

pushing open the front door, he was immediately swamped by a tiny army of squirming, chattering bodies. “papa, papa, papa!” rose seized his hand and tugged insistently. “you gotta’ see the cool fort we built! kenji made it super big this time!”

“we’ll show ya, dad!” kenji crowed, already streaking towards the living room, malachai hot on his heels with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“hold up there, you lil’ tornados,” toji called in vain, being unceremoniously dragged by his giggling daughter into the chaos. every available pillow, cushion, and blanket had been appropriated to create an elaborate tent city surrounded by toys and stuffed animals . . and gojo sat smack in the middle of it all, long legs splayed out as he played some kind of intricate make believe game with the two boys.

“baby, you’re home!” you swept in from the kitchen, wisps of hair escaping your messy bun and face flushed from exertion. you were wearing a cute pink sundress that struck a nostalgic chord in toji’s memory - you’ve had it for years, one of his favorite things to slowly peel off of your shoulders after a night out to be exact. “thank goodness. i was startin’ to think i’d have to call backup.”

you stand on your tippy toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, and just like that, his weariness evaporated as if by magic. your familiar floral scent, your soft warmth, the kids’ laughter surrounding him - this moment of serenipity in the midst of routinely chaos bringing a lump to his throat.

“not a chance,” he rumbled, sliding an arm around your waist. “i wouldn’t miss this for the world.” downy goosebumps erupted down your arms at his words, flustering deeply. awe, his voice still got you going after all this time. good to know. very good to know. “y’all holdin’ down the fort?”

“y’know how it is,” you reply with a gentle squeeze of his hand, watching in fond exasperation as rose ordered poor gojo to lie down so kenji could perform his ‘very important surgery.’ “satoru took his role a lil’ too seriously this time and got lost in their games.”

you stood together watching for a few moments, the kids pausing just long enough to acknowledge toji’s presence again before diving back into their shenanigans. it was all so beautifully vibrant and alive, the little people you created and who brought such joy, such richness and meaning to your lives. but still . . . toji felt the undeniable tug of wanting you all to himself. just for a few hours at least. he wanted to bask in your undivided attention. to remember what it felt like to not share you with anyone else.

you must have picked up on his restlessness, your eyelids drifting shut as he stroked the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “soon as we get back, m’ cravin’ some peace n’ quiet. maybe a hot soak in the tub after all this madness.” your tone was light and casual, but the smoldering undertone was unmistakable.

toji found himself swallowing reflexively as his skin prickled with awakening interest. “is that a promise, mama?” he murmured gruffly, not even trying to hide the roughness in his voice.

you peeked up at him through long lashes, a smile curving on your lips. “mm . . . you should know this by now. m’ a girl who keeps her promises.” burying any further suggestive replies, you cleared your throat and turned to gojo, who’d been buried under a pile of stuffed teddy bears. “alright babies, mama n’ daddy gotta’ go for a bit. gumi’s at a friend’s place, and there’s dinner in the fridge if you guys get hungry — so pretty please be good for your uncle gojo, y’hear?”

a chorus of whines follow after your words, but the kids were quickly distracted again by the siren song of more roughhousing. rose blew toji an exaggerated kiss while kenji and malachai paid both of you absolutely no mind whatsoever, already wrestling in a tangle of small limbs. gojo simply shot you a weary thumbs up from beneath his plush prison, glasses askew and hair wild as toji fought the urge to chuckle, “have fun you two. keep me posted, and please for the love of god - quit knockin’ her up, toji. i’m being attacked by three little rascals and it’s just absolutely absurd,” he jokes.

“i don’t make promises i can’t keep, satoru.”

you fished your purse and sweater from the hall closet while toji hovered close, drinking in every detail of you. suddenly he was struck by the profound urge to pull you in close and just breathe nothing but you, to lose himself in the familiar softness and strength of your embrace. but he restrained himself with an effort. all too soon they’d be able to indulge that craving for closeness, he reminded himself as you linked your fingers through his.

with a final wave to the kids and fond shake of his head at gojo’s predicament, toji guided you to the car. the simple act of opening your door and helping you in was enough to set his pulse racing, anticipation crackling in the air as your fingers tangled briefly together. electric from even the most innocent of contact.

by the time he’d slid behind the wheel, he felt ten years younger, energized by the promise of this evening alone with the woman he loved. as toji pulled out of the driveway, you were already reaching for the radio to cue up one of your old playlists, humming along contentedly as warm twilight spilled through the windows. toji cuts you an affectionate glance and reaches over to squeeze your knee - a brief, cherished moment before the magic began.

he couldn’t wait to see where it all would lead.

“so where we headed, hot stuff?” you asked, eyes sparkling with mischief as she toyed with the ends of her hair. “hopefully somewhere without a soft play area and a kids meal if y’know what i mean.”

toji snorted, distracted for a second by the way the skirt of her sundress rode up her thighs as she shifted in the passenger seat. “nah, no funzones tonight. but i can think of a few things i’d like to play with though.”

his suggestive drawl was rewarded with a scandalized laugh and playful swat to his shoulder. “you’re so gross, babe.” your eyes twinkle with amusement before flickering to the darkening sky outside. “seriously though . . . surprise me? i wanna’ be wooed. s’ been too long since you’ve had the chance to take me out. we used to do it all the time.”

kissing away the pout on your lips and squeezing your knee again, toji grinned crookedly. “i know, baby. tonight will be one to remember - i swear.”

true to his word, he bypassed all the usual dining spots they frequented as a family, instead guiding you to a cozy trattoria tucked away on a quiet cobblestone street you didn’t even know existed. he pulled up in front and turned to gauge your reaction, smile widening at the look of surprise and delight on your lovely face.

“bambolino’s?” you exclaimed, craning your neck to peer through the warmly lit windows. “toji, this place is famous! i swear geto raves about their stuffed shells every time he comes over . . like they’re life changing or something!”

“nothin’s better than your cookin’ so we’ll see. m’ a tough crowd to please.” chuckling, he cut the engine and climbed out to open your door, and you hopped out with a charming little shimmy of your hips, curls bouncing around your shoulders now. toji quite literally had to bite back a groan as images of sweeping you up onto the hood and hiking that dress up around your waist flooded his mind unbidden.

jesus, dude. maybe he felt a little too hot n’ bothered. this was a night to reconnect emotionally, not just physically. ‘keep it together, man,’ he mumbles to himself.

threading your arm through his, you allowed him to lead you to the heavy oak door. “well well, aren’t you just the sweetest.”

toji leaned over to murmur in her ear, voice low and intimate. “like i said . . . a night to remember. and m’ just gettin’ started, lovely.” he felt you shiver and had to quickly resist the urge to press an open mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot behind you ear — the spot he knew drove you crazy. but he reined himself in, offering you his arm instead. you slanted him an arch look from beneath your lashes as you took his elbow, well aware of the charged energy in the room. “you’re such smooth talker,” you teased. “but m’ callin’ you out - you gotta’ keep deliverin’ now.”

the inside of the restaurant was every bit as quaint and charming as the exterior, all warm golden lighting and rustic decor like something plucked from a cozy little italian village. your table of choice nestled in a babylon themed area, made for discreet intimacy. along with linen napkins and sparkling wine already waiting along with a single garden rose in a low vase.

as toji held out your chair for you, you leaned up to brush a soft kiss to his cheek. “this lovely, t,” you murmured, fingers trailing over the pristine white tablecloth. “really, baby . . . jus’ lovely.”

he hummed, momentarily distracted by the alluring fragrance of your signature perfume mixed with the lingering scent of baked goodies in your hair from a hectic day’s work at the bakery. “you deserve it,” he rumbled once he’d found his voice again. “. . . i know how crazy swamped you been with the kids and workin’ on side projects for the shop. tonight is strictly about you, mama. no responsibilities, no worries. just you n’ me enjoyin’ each other. like we used to do.”

your smile softened at the corners as you regarded him with open adoration. “when did all your charm come back?” you teased gently, though . . that tone was genuine. “feels like we haven’t had a moment alone in ages. hard to remember the last time you wooed me like this.”

“tonight’s special. couldn’t let another moment go by without remindin’ you exactly why you chose to put up with me.”

your expression turned impish once more. “coulda’ fooled me - i seem to recall it was you who was pushin’ lil’ ol’ me away, no?”

he formed his features into his best look of faux offense, tone full of lofty dignity. “can a man not get nervous anymore? you were stunning i was terrified — as megumi would say, your aura was just . . .” beneath the table, you could start to feel him sliding his foot forward to glide his ankle over yours, naughtiness giving him away even before your muffled squeak of surprise. toji just grinned that stupid grin at you innocently, as though not at all aware of the toe he was trailing up the delicate skin of your inner calf, “out of this world, sweetheart.”

you had to clear your throat before replying, voice husky with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “oh shut up. jus’ admit you loved me before you even knew it yet.” but despite the humor, you lashes had lowered invitingly as you let your calves part further, granting him unrestricted access.

his gaze snagged on the glimpse of your skin revealed as his foot inched higher and higher to skim the sensitive crease behind your knee. already, his blood was pounding with renewed interest, awakened by the heady combination of your pheromones and just being within your space. hmph. it was like suddenly the intimate, flickering candles and red wine he'd scoffed at earlier as a cheesy cliche seemed perfectly fitting, matching the frisson of sexual heat enkindling within him.

you spent the first part of dinner treading familiar ground - teasing n’ flirting, punctuated by conversations and easy silences that felt almost novel in your peacefulness these days. there was an ease to it, a bond between you both that couldn’t be so easily broken by the stress of soccer practices, ballet recitals or piles of laundry.

an intimacy beyond the aspects of physical that toji clung to . . . even as his vixen urges stirred elsewhere.

once appetizers had been polished off and the main courses brought out, toji leaned back in his chair and leveled you with a heavy lidded stare. slowly, he scooped up his cloth napkin and tossed it onto the table as though throwing down a gauntlet. your eyebrows rose in polite question even as a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips.

“y’know . .” toji began, voice pitched low and rough like buttered rum. “you look absolutely stunning tonight, yn. i couldn’t be more proud of the woman you are n’ i jus’ uh . .” he pauses for a moment. wow, even after six years you still found a way to steal the words right out of his mouth, “i jus’ love you — you’re the mother of my children, my heart, my everyth - ”

your breath caught audibly, lashes fluttering as you struggled not to squirm under the potent weight of his stare. still, you rallied with a sassy arch of one brow. “if we weren’t already married, i’d say you were attempting at proposing to me right now, toji.”

“aye, m’ tryin’ t’be sentimental here, lady,” toji chuckled, the sound impossibly intimate amidst the hushed ambiance of the cozy trattoria. reaching across the table, he traced a feather-light path along your forearm with the very tips of his fingers, feeling the fine hairs there rise in gooseflesh, “y’know i’d marry you a thousand times over.”

the sleek black car purred through the dim streets, a monotonous swish of the windshield wipers being the only sound breaking the heavy silence within. in the passenger seat, you gazed out the rain streaked window, city lights smearing across your face in streaks of red and gold and neon blue. the night had been magical - champagne and oysters at bambolino’s, after that there was slow dancing cheek to cheek to smoky jazz at the club down the street, and last but not least — chocolate lava cake shared and savored at the tiny candle lit dessert boutique. all the romance and luxury toji knew his beautiful wife deserved.

but now, cocooned together in the warm confines of the car, the mood had shifted into something . . . more carnal. not sure how it couldn’t have become carnal with toji’s eyes constantly flicking away from the road to steal glimpses of you. in the dim glow of the dash, he drank in the way your clingy pink dress embraced every mouthwatering curve you had, the deep v neckline offering a tantalizing view of your collarbones. and oh, the silky chestnut curls tumbled over your bare shoulders, toji’s fingers itched to suken into them, to pull her close and breathe in the familiar sweet vanilla of her shampoo as he cruised.

he inhaled subtly, your delicate floral perfume underlaid with the warm, sleep-rumpled scent of your skin filling his head with sense memories. lazy sunlit mornings tangled in egyptian cotton sheets, your hair spilled across the pillow. sweaty afternoons grappling on the living room rug like lovestruck college kids. languid twilight baths with your slippery curves pressed back against his chest. he shifted in his seat as his blood began to simmer.

as if she could read his increasingly lurid thoughts, yn turned to meet his gaze. in the shadows, her eyes glittered like black diamonds, dark and fathomless, brimming with wicked promises. slowly, deliberately, she dragged her pink tongue across her bottom lip, leaving the glossed flesh glistening temptingly. toji swallowed hard.

suddenly, the air of the car felt suffocating, the rain misted air unbearably thick and hot. toji cranked the ac, but it did little to cool his overheated skin. he stared deadahead at the surging blades, trying to ignore the rising pressure in his groin.

without a word, you lifted a hand from your lap and slid it across the center console. toji sucked in a sharp breath as your palm skated up his thigh to rest just south of dangerous territory. even through the crisp fabric of his tailored slacks, her touch burned like a brand. as your nimble fingers began to trace idle whorls and spirals, you notice toji’s hands flex around the steering wheel.

“you better get us home safe, mr. we have kids to feed,” you purred, your dulcet voice flooding the charged air between them. “wouldn’t wanna’ have an accident now, would we?” your tone was pure filthy innuendo.

toji risked a glance sideways and instantly regretted it. you looked like a temptation, the old school femme fatale, all dangerous curves and scarlet lips and come-hither eyes. he could practically hear the harps and horns of the kill bill sirens blaring in his brain as he dragged his gaze forward again, locking it on the taillights winking mockingly through the rain smeared glass.

it would be so easy to pull the car over, to say fuck it to propriety and yank you into his lap. to ruck that sinful dress up around your waist and lose himself in your pussy until the windows were disgustingly fogged. so easy to let the inferno building in his veins consume you both right there in the goddamn car.

but toji prided himself on his discipline, his ironclad restraint. you couldn’t be a firefighter without grit, without the ability to stay focused and clear headed no matter what temptations beckoned. he knew that all too well. so he kept his ass planted firmly in the leather seat, even as his body screamed for more of his wife’s wicked touch.

even if his cock throbbed persistently against his fly, inflamed and aching.

you, however, seemed to have no such compunctions about maintaining composure. heedless of toji’s grip on the wheel, you unbuckled your seatbelt and twisted in your seat to face him. in a move that nearly short circuited his brain, you drew one endless leg up onto the seat, making the hem of your dress ride up to reveal the lacy edge of a sheer white thigh high.

toji’s mouth went dust dry. “what’re you doin’?”

“gettin’ comfortable,” you replied airly, but the devilish quirk of your painted lips gave away the game. slowly, you trailed a fingertip along the inside of your thigh, the back of your hand just barely grazing the tent in toji’s slacks as you did so — making him hiss out a breath between his teeth.

“quit playin’ wit’ me, yeah?”

you hummed, unconcerned, and continued her leisurely exploration, tracing idle patterns on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. “i’d rather you play with somethin’ else — i mean, you said it yourself.”

toji’s foot pressed down on the accelerator as if by it’s own volition, the car surging forward through the fuzzy soft darkness. toji's heart beat in time, a primal drum urging him to get the fuck home, where he could strip his vixen of a wife bare and remind you where teasin’ got you.

remind you how good he could make you burn.

your throaty chuckle broke him from his reverie. he glanced over to see you still caressing your own thighs, a wry twist to your lips. “you’re thinkin’ about fuckin’ me, aren’t you?” you mused casually, as if remarking on the weather. “how bad you wanna’ pull this car over, bend me over the hood n’ fuck me like i know you want to.”

liquid heat rolled down toji’s spine to pool in his groin, his cock jerking ravenously in the confines of his straining zipper. “goddammit,” he bit out, knuckles gone bloodless on the steering wheel.

you bit your lip on a smirk, shaky satisfaction in your exhale. “c’mon, daddy,” you coaxed, voice husky and sex-soaked. “i can feel you thinkin’ about it . . . those big hands spreading me open jus’ f’you?”

toji couldn't choke back his groan, pressure building to a rolling boil in his veins. his whole world narrowed down to the flex of his thighs, the strain of keeping the car on the road, and the siren song of your body, your scent, your dirty fuckin’ mouth.

“i’ve been so wet all night, t . .” you continued blithely, as if remarking on the weather. “since the second you walked in from work.” you reached over to smooth a proprietary hand along his thigh, thumb still skating dangerously close to his crotch. “i jus’ wanted to drop to my knees and worship you with my mouth right then n’ there.”

toji nearly swallowed his tongue, vivid images of your plush lips stretching around his cock flooding his brain. “c’mon, baby . .”

“ — but i was such a good girl,” you singsonged. “i was patient. i kept my hands to myself through dinner, even though all i could think about was how good you’d feel inside me.” your fingers creep higher to graze his zipper, “how deep i could take this big dick in my pretty little cunt.”

“don’t make me stop this car n’ —“

“pull over,” you murmured, voice molten and dark with promise. “anywhere. i don’t give a fuck - jus’ fuck me, toji. please . . s’ been too fuckin’ long.”

your words shot through him like an electric charge, heat searing down his spine to pool gravid and pulsing in his groin. “shit’,” he bit out, dizzy, nearly delirious with the force of his want. “ well, i know better than to argue with you. go ahead n’ tell me where, baby.”

“over there,” you pointed through the smeared windshield at an empty parking lot on the right, a black gulf set back from the glistening street. “that lot. pull in.” nearly shaking with the effort of holding himself in check, toji wrenched the wheel to the right, tires juddering over wet asphalt as he whipped into the vacant lot. the moment he threw the car into park, you were scrambling into his lap, sinuous as a snake, that tight dress rucking up around your hips completely now.

toji groaned gutturally as the heat of you settled over him, the damp crotch of your panties grinding right against his aching cock. you were like a furnace through the thin satin, searing him, branding him. he bucked helplessly under the pressure, too far gone for finesse.

“shit,” panted against the shell of his ear, nipping at the sensitive skin. your little hands scrabbling at his belt, desperate, graceless. “wan’ you s’bad. been drippin’ — it hurts, daddy . .”

toji made a wounded sound as you finally freed his straining erection, wrapping slim fingers around the thick root and pumping once, slowly. you let out a broken moan at the heavy heat of him pulsing in your grip, the way he jerked and kicked against the palm, already leaking from the flushed tip.

“look at you,” you purred, running a thumb through the slippery bead of precum. you brought the digit to your mouth, sucking it clean with a low hum that vibrated straight through him. “mm, so fuckin’ hard f’me.” toji’s hands flew to your hips, gripping bruisingly tight, a drowning man clutching a lifeline. the flimsy lace of your panties was no barrier - he ripped them aside, baring the slick folds of your cunt to the humid air. need pounded behind his eyes, turned his blood to quicksilver, his bones to molten steel.

“i missed you, mama,” he rasped, throat tight, voice scraped raw. “missed you so much.” his calloused hands roam your tummy, waist, and then chest — stopping when his palms grope the full plumpness of your titties, “awe baby . . they’re so heavy. have they gotten bigger?” the casual rubbing is soon interrupted when he pulls them out from their comfortable position in your sundress, your breasts flopping out in the prettiest way.

nipples hard n’ ready to just be absolutely tended to.

“i think so,” you reply, running your hands up and down his chest, “ever since i had rose . . they’ve gotten more n’ more swollen.” it was true. that girl had been your most painful birth ever — and keep in mind, this was coming from a mother of four. your back ached, you felt uncomfortable everywhere, and your tits well . . . let’s just say it felt like carrying around bags of sand attached to your sore chest.

but you’d do it again. anything for your sweet baby girl.

“do they hurt?”

“a little bit,” and on your word, toji leans forward, taking one of your exposed nipples into his mouth as he teased the other with his fingers. you could only moan as he sucked softly, almost as if he were trying to pry somethin’ out of em’, “aah — mmph! s’ sensitive, daddy . . so sensitive.”

with a needy cry, you wasted to time to pull your panties to the side and tap the tip of him against your slit, “put it in, t . . please,” you don’t even wait for his approval to notch the broad head of his cock against your opening as he worked. he didn’t mind - not one bit. if anything, he was more eager than you. you then wrap around him, gently sinking down, sheathing him in tight, and clinging on. his head cracked back against the headrest after letting go of your nipple with a pop! - fireworks exploding behind his eyes as your silky walls enveloped him, gripped him, fluttered sweetly around his aching length like you’d been waiting for his return.

“oh my god,” you whimpered, lip caught harshly between your teeth. you looked nearly pained, brow pinched, lashes fluttering as you fought to adjust to the invasion. after all, it’s been a while. “i missed you stretchin’ me out, daddy . . missed y’re dick s-so much.”

toji panted shallowly through his nose, every tendon in his body pulled bowstring tight as he fought the feral urge to surge up into you, to seize and take and claim. his fingers flexed convulsively on your hips, blunt nails biting into the plump flesh of your ass.

“i know, i know. i feel you mama. m’ so sorry, daddy’s been neglectin’ this pussy, huh? keep makin’ yourself f-feel good,” he encouraged gutturally, thumbs sweeping over the delicate skin of her inner thighs, smearing her arousal into the creases. “mm, tryin’ to take it all i see . . always so eager to make me proud, ain’t ya’?”

with a keening mewl as a reply, you began to move, rocking shallowly, finding a rhythm. your hands braced on his broad shoulders, using the leverage to grind down, to swivel your hips in maddening figure eights. pleasure sparkled up toji’s spine, gathered in his heavy balls, pulling them up tight and throbbing against his body.

“s-shit, yeah,” he hissed, head swimming, drowning in sensation. “that pussy’s fuckin’ good, yn — always so fuckin’ good. ride that dick jus’ like that.”

you made a desperate sound, head lolling on your neck, lush mouth falling open. each drag of your warm walls had his nerve endings sparking, a livewire of ecstasy. he could feel every clench, every ripple of your ass around him, could feel you growing wetter, slicker, easing the way for faster, harder thrusts.

soon enough you were bouncing feverishly in his lap, shameless, transported. your nails bit into his shoulders through his shirt as you slammed yourself down, the wet smack of sticky flesh and her breathless cries fogging the windows. each downstroke punched the breath from his lungs, until he was dizzy with it, drunk on the feel of you, the sweat and sex musk and some dark energy radiating off of you.

“c’mon,” he growled, palming your ass, spreading you open lewdly so he could watch himself disappear into your gleaming folds, over n’ over, creamy n’ noisy. “gonna’ nut on this dick, hm? gonna’ soak daddy with this greedy lil’ cunt? my greedy fuckin’ cunt — all mine, isn’t it? say that shit.”

“y-yess, s’ all yours, d-daddy,” you panted, back arching sharply as his pelvis pressed just right against your swollen clit. that and the feeling of his hardened head nuzzling against your gummy cervix was just enough to — “m’ close . . m’ so close, baby!” he could feel you starting to tighten, starting to talk and pulse around his hammering cock. with a choked off curse, he gripped the globes of your ass and slammed you down, grinding his hips in deep, filthy circles that had your voice breaking on a sob.

“cum on that dick,” he commanded, holding her steady even as she thrashed and writhed, impaled to the root on his steel-hard length. “give it to daddy — m-make a mess on me, nasty fuckin’ slut.”

he punctuated the words with one brutal thrust, and you had no choice but to cum with a ragged wail, clenching down on him so tight he lost his vision. your cunt rippled and gushed, rhythmic waves gracefully and sloppily milking his pulsing cock as ecstasy whited out behind your eyes.

“fuck, fuck, baby, i can’t — m’ bout to cum, m’ cummin’ - aw fuck!” he choked out, and then his own orgasm was crashing through him, a tidal wave of rapture searing through his veins. he spurted long and hard, painting your trembling walls with scorching ropes of cum that had you shuddering through the aftershocks.

for long moments they stayed locked together, panting into the thick air, pulses gradually slowing. finally you shifted with a shuddery exhale, and toji groaned low in his chest as he slipped free of you in a hot gush. she collapsed bonelessly against his chest, sweat cooling on your skin, looking thoroughly debauched.

toji caught your face between his palms, tipped it up to meet her blissed-out gaze. “holy fuck i love you,” he rasped, thumbs sweeping over your tear stained cheeks, “so fuckin’ much, man - fuck.”

“me too . . l-love you too, babe.” you finished, voice a satisfied husk. a slow grin spread over your face, catlike and smug. “i can’t believe you fucked me in a parking lot.”

“you didn’t give me much choice,” he growled playfully, nipping at your jaw once, twice, three times. “my lil’ cum bunny jus’ couldn’t wait till’ we got home.”

you shivered, squirming against the twitch of renewed interest between his legs. “guess we better head back then,” you murmured. “round two in our nice comfy bed sounds pretty perfect right about now.”

toji made a low sound of agreement, already envisioning peeling her out of that sinful dress and worshipping every inch of her properly. “i can make a thirty minute drive a fifteen — that work for you?”

“y’know you didn’t have to ask that.” you clambered off his lap and they hastily rearranged your clothing, giggling like you were being caught by some mall cop patrolling the area. and then, toji reversed, pulled back onto the glistening streets, one hand resting possessively high on your thigh as the lights of the city streaked by.

soon you were pulling into your familiar driveway. toji killed the engine and dashed around to open your door, ever the gentleman as usual even after tiring you and himself out so thoroughly. hand in hand, giddy and eager, you made you way up the front walk, your heels clicking on the wet concrete.

the door swung open on a scene of perfect domestic tranquility. there on the oversized couch lay satoru, sprawled out and snoring softly, the little ones curled up safe and sound on his chest. the sight filling toji’s heart with indescribable warmth.

gingerly, you both crept closer, not wanting to wake your peaceful babies. toji gazed down at their somber faces, so innocent in sleep, and felt his throat tighten with emotion. you then settled against his side and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“we made some damn cute kids,” you whispered with a contented sigh.

“absolutely we did,” toji agreed gruffly. he turned and pressed a kiss to your hair, soft and sweet. “i love our little family so much. and you . . i say it all the time, but god, i love you more than anything, yn. i wouldn’t have them without you.”

you tilted your face up to his, eyes liquid and luminous in the low light. “take me to bed n’ show me just how much you love me, lieutenant,” you murmured against his lips.

grinning, toji swept her into a bridal carry, careful not to jostle satoru and the kids. “roger that,” he whispered back playfully. “let’s go complete operation ‘welcome home.’”

and with that, he carried his gorgeous, giggling wife down the hall to their bedroom, ready to spend the rest of the night making good on the promise that had been building between them all evening long — a promise of passion, devotion, and a love that could set the whole world on fire.

#🎀 — www.satorubiwrites.com #i luv them so dearly #toji x black reader #toji smut #toji x female reader #jjk x poc!reader #toji x black y/n #toji fushiguro #toji #toji x reader #toji x fem! reader #toji x you

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meowr4wr · 6 days ago

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𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙡 -

jason x reader / 1.18k wc

(angst, comfort, mention of scars, sad jason, in love w eachother but haven’t said anything yet, reader has curly hair cause hell yeah, idk what else, lowkey rushed, concepts all jammed together)

—

a/n: been on writers block for a while & suddenly started writing again while listening to music. also been busy with family stuff lately & been a little down. based this off under your spell by snow strippers & we’ll never have sex by leith ross! enjoy :3 btw not proof read i wrote this half asleep.

—

Being in love with someone like this wasn’t part of his plans—for life, actually. You were the one person who could keep him grounded, keep him from falling apart. It was as if he’d been bewitched by a powerful force—one that he didn’t dream of being free from.

Maybe it was just the fleeting feeling of love, having warmth in those dark nights by the arms that wrapped around him. Your smile that made all his pain fade away—even for a mere moment. Your gorgeous curls that looked so inviting to just bury his face in and never leave. Everything about you just made him feel that innocent love he’s yearned for.

Even in those loving moments when he could feel your love for him practically radiating off you, he can’t ignore that pit in his stomach. The picture that creeps into his mind of you and him being happy together could never happen. Not when he sees his scars, gnarled and etched onto his skin when he takes his clothes off. A painful reminder of his ‘defection’. How could anyone love him like this?

His mind clouds with insecurity and doubt, truly thinking that he’s unworthy of anything that would bring him joy.

Even as he cries into his pillow late at night, finally letting himself to put down the rough exterior he desperately keeps up. It was late at night, the city lights and cloudy skies making his room gloomy.

He didn’t even hear you coming into his apartment, forgetting that you were supposed to come by at night after your long day to drop off a few things. It wasn’t until he hears the creak of his bedroom door that he faces the door.

What he didn’t expect was to see you standing at the doorway, hesitant on coming into his room. Hearing his sobs as you entered filled your heart with worry, quietly making your way through his apartment to see him.

Jason says your name in confusion, his voice shaky and strained from his crying. “Shit—Look uhm—“ he sniffles quietly, wiping his tear stained face with his hands. “..Sorry.” He sighs, too embarrassed and numb to make up an excuse. He’s grateful that his room is dim, but hoping that the subtle glow from the moon didn’t show his puffy eyes.

There was silence for a long moment, Jason internally panicking and overwhelmed by you seeing him so..vulnerable. He couldn’t see your face or even read you, the dim lighting made it difficult. It wasn’t until you broke the silence, your voice soft.

“..It’s alright. I..already left some of the things you asked for on the table. But uhm..” you trailed off, a hesitant step into his room. “..I’m here if you need to talk yeah? Or if you just need someone to sit with you.” You say, anxiously fidgeting with your hands.

“Can I..?” You ask, mentally bracing for his response.

Jason felt his chest get tight, his hands balling the blanket he had over him. “..Yeah..that’s—okay.” He whispered, looking down at his hand.

As you walked to his bedside, you could see him a lot more clearly now. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, his scars all over his skin catching your eye. You’ve never seen them before, not that he’d let you.

Although that wasn’t important as comforting your best friend right now, sitting next to him and leaving a small space between the two of you. You didn’t want to overwhelm him, not when he’s showing his true self before you.

Sitting in silence, all Jason wanted to do was crawl up into a hole and disappear. He felt humiliated by himself, for being so emotional and having these feelings that only hurt him more. But it was exhausting having to go on with life.

Stuck within the limbo of what he used to be and what he is now, Jason desperately wants to cling onto the boy who was filled with joy. To feel free and for the first time in his childhood, to be loved.

He held onto the happy memories of the past, yet the pain and suffering never forgotten or left behind. It’s what made him, imperfect or perfect in your eyes & others.

“..This is humiliating.” Jason dryly admits, an ashamed chuckle following along to hopefully ease the tension.

“Sorry you had to see me..like this.” He sighs, more shameful by the second. Jason immediately gets up from his bed, wanting to cover the scars and hide his face from you. “I probably look like complete shit right now. I’ll—“

He feels your hand on his wrist, stopping him from going. You both know that he could easily break away, yet a part of him doesn’t want to.

“..You don’t need to keep pretending anymore, Jason. Please.” Your voice was filled with understanding, something that made him feel less anxious. He could feel your thumb subconsciously rubbing on his skin to bring him comfort, which was working.

His eyes slightly widened, his shoulders becoming visibly less tense. Jason let himself sit next to you once more, the gap between you two closed. His thigh met yours, his burning skin a contrast to the joggers you wore.

“I’m here for you, always. You don’t need to tell me anything or explain yourself to me. I just want you to be okay—you just mean..so much to me. And I can’t see you so hurt when all you deserve is happiness. You’re…really important to me.” You stumble on your words, your hand still holding onto his wrist tight.

Your words only made his eyes prickle with tears, speechless as his lips parted. Next thing he knew was that his arms made their way to hold you against him, bringing his face to your shoulder.

Tears began to fall once more, you felt the wetness on your shoulder. Yet, you only wrapped your own arms around him.

“..I’m just..so tired..” he whispered, your name falling from his lips once more. “..These scars..everything about me is disgusting..” he sniffles. “I don’t deserve you..I don’t deserve to have you with me..” he sobs, holding you tightly.

It was sudden, having his arms wrapped around you and crying into your shoulder. All you could do was hold him, to give him the comfort you desperately wanted to give him.

“..You’re anything but disgusting, Jason. You’re perfect.” You whispered, cupping his face as you wiped his tears away.

Jason’s eyes practically dazed as they locked into yours, his pale blue-green eyes glinting by his tears. Scars and all, he was everything you could ever want.

Looking into your eyes, it was as if he got a glimpse of his future. It was you, it’d always be you. Night or day, the only person who could truly make him feel like the world wasn’t falling apart was you. He choked up, letting his head fall onto your shoulder once more.

“..Please don’t leave me tonight.” He whispered, voice cracking.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You whispered back, your eyes closing as you brought him close.

—

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc fanfic #dc comics #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd angst #jason todd comfort #im too tired for this #need more jason todd comfort fics

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susicheng · 14 days ago

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𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ dm for prices l.mk

chapter 10 markie?

you expected to be nervous. this was teetering the line between date territory and the casual friend hangouts you and mark had been having before you went home for a month. not to mention, you hadn’t seen mark in person for so long (not counting yesterday when he surprised you at the airport). being alone with him again might be completely foreign territory again, after all of the talking you had been doing over break.

somehow, though, seeing mark only eased your nerves. as he opened the passenger side door, you could only look at his face and smile, serotonin rushing through your system.

“hey.” he climbed in awkwardly, as endearing as ever. “you look really good.” you could tell he wasn’t used to being provided the princess treatment from others. good thing you were here now to change that.

“just good?” you teased.

“beautiful. you look beautiful.”

“thank you markie. you look gorgeous yourself.”

“gorgeous?” the flush on his cheeks was evident, even from your peripheral vision as you began to drive, focusing more on the road than his face.

“yeah. you’re gorgeous.”

“can’t say anyone has ever called me that before.”

“really?” you glanced over at him, only for a second, to witness the shy nod he produced. “then i’m happy to be the first.”

he seemed to appreciate the lull in the conversation, taking this time to compose himself after your comment.

“you’re a good driver.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt at changing the topic, trying to regain control of the situation to avoid become more flustered. too bad you had contradicting plans. “thanks, i try. wouldn’t want my princess to be harmed under my watch.”

“i thought you said you were leaning towards ‘babygirl’?” his reply was playful. confident, even. but the reappearance of redness on his cheeks gave him away.

“we’ll see where the night takes us, yeah?” maybe you were implying something sexual. maybe not. who could really dictate that call.

“oh. yeah, okay.” you pulled into a parking spot, finally able to fully turn and appreciate his (adorable) reactions to your words.

“you’re cute mark.” his face was only getting redder. you really wanted to bite him, he was too cute. who knew mark lee was a sucker for being pampered.. (you had a feeling he had somewhat of a praise kink. nice to know your theory was closer to becoming true).

“thanks.”

you had been parked for a minute, watching mark expectantly as he seemed at a loss for what to do.

“are you going to get out of the car, or do you want me to get the door for you?” you giggled, watching the realization dawn on his expression and send him into panic mode.

“oh! oh, i can get out by myself. hahaha. thank you. i can get out by myself.” the way he moved reminded you a bit of a baby deer, unsteady and nervous. maybe you weren’t the only one that was nervous about seeing the other in real life after so long of being hundreds of miles apart.

“baby, you’re so nervous. why?” you were both out of the car now, mark getting particularly jumpy every time you got too close, like he was afraid to make the wrong move around you.

“oh. um. no reason, it’s just exciting for you to be back.”

“that’s all?”

“yeah! yeah that’s all.”

the mall was as exciting as it usually is. despite window shopping time and time again, you still laugh every single time at the candy dicks in that one store. and the obnoxious animal masks in the one diagonal from it. nothing beats taking stupid pictures together wearing realistic wolf masks in a mall.

as you were walking around with mark, hands brushing together every few steps, you noticed him zero in on a particular display in the window of a clothing store. there were matching spiderman shirts displayed. of course that nerd noticed them from so far away.

“you want those?” you gestured to the shirts, a smile on your face.

“well. isn’t it kind of…” he trailed off, cheeks reddening again. you could get used to that, he looked unnervingly cute when he was embarrassed.

“kind of?”

“it’s kind of couple-y.” he muttered, barely loud enough for you to hear. he was just so cute.

“what’s the problem with that? if it’s cute, it’s cute.” you grabbed onto his hand, tugging him towards the store.

“you don’t think it’s weird?” stupid question for him to ask, as you’re dragging him in to buy them, but you digress.

“no, i don’t think it’s weird to buy matching shirts with you mark. i think it’s cute.”

it took no time to find the shirts in the store, quickly picking out your respective sizes and taking them up to the counter. when the time came to pay, you saw mark reaching into his wallet to pull out his own money, but not before you levelled him with a stern look and pushed his hands back down.

“hey hey hey, you are not paying. remember, you’re my princess today, mark lee. put your wallet away.”

his eyes widened (cute). he obediently pocketed his wallet, watching in stunned silence as you paid and thanked the cashier, grabbing mark’s hand again to direct him out of the store.

“i kind of like it when you’re assertive..” he was quiet when he said it, almost like he didn’t quite want you to hear it. his bad, though, because you were far too observant about anything he did.

“yeah? you like getting bossed around?” you shot him a wink, laughing when he tore his hand out of your grip in shock.

“i didn’t mean it like that.” the shock in his tone was evident, only causing you to laugh harder.

“you didn’t?”

he stared at you, seeming to be building up confidence. “maybe i did. maybe i didn’t. there’s only one way to find out i guess.” he schooled his tone into nonchalance. he was blushing (again) though. he really was an open book, at least to you.

“look who’s being bold now! mark lee, i didn’t know you had it in you!” you hit his shoulder lightly, smiling widely as you two made your way to the food court.

“i’m a surprising person.” he shrugged.

“are you saying there’s more where that came from?” you glanced over at him, grinning at this newfound confidence.

“that’s exactly what i’m saying.” there was a challenge in his eyes, one that you were about to mirror. that is, until the sound of mark’s phone buzzing in his pocket suddenly cuts through the conversation.

you raise an eyebrow but brush it off, figuring it’s just an unimportant call. but when the buzzing persists, you can see the way he hesitates, eyes flicking to the phone in his pocket. it's not like him to avoid a call to this extent. you wait for him to take it, but something in his demeanor feels off.

you glance at him. "you gonna get that?"

mark hesitates, his hand hovering over his pocket, before he quickly reaches for his phone. it’s almost too fast. but before he can even pull it out, it rings again, louder this time. his face visibly tightens, and for a split second, you see him struggle with whether to answer or not. you watch his fingers curl into a fist, then release, as he takes the phone from his pocket.

"are you not going to answer it?" you ask, trying to sound casual, but there’s an edge in your voice now. something feels wrong.

"i’ll just—" he mutters, his voice faltering. "it’s not important."

you raise an eyebrow, a little taken aback by his sudden nervousness. you try to suppress the sharp, uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine, but something isn’t sitting right. "who is it? you’re acting weird. are you sure you’re okay?"

the phone buzzes again, and this time, his face pales. he immediately silences it, but not before you catch a glimpse of a message notification from jaemin. your breath catches.

“you said you’d call me tonight. you can’t keep avoiding me, mark. we need to talk.”

a chill runs down your spine as the words echo in your mind. we need to talk… what does that mean?

mark quickly shoves the phone into his pocket, his hands visibly trembling now. you can see the guilt and discomfort flashing in his eyes. “it’s nothing. please, just forget about it.”

but you can’t just forget it. the message, the urgency, the way he’s been avoiding the call—it’s all wrong. your thoughts race, and suddenly, all the doubts you had been pushing aside start to surface. you thought things were going well, but now... everything feels like it might be falling apart before it even started.

“mark,” you say, your voice soft but firm, “who is that? why does he keep calling you like this?”

mark opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. his jaw tightens, and for a moment, it’s like he’s completely frozen. you can feel the space between you two growing, like a wall slowly building.

“i just…” he finally says, his voice strained, “i didn’t want to complicate things. we’re going in a really good direction. i really like you. i didn’t want you to think—” his words falter.

you feel your chest tighten, the pieces clicking together in an uncomfortable way. of course now he tries to save himself with a confession. the moment you had been building up for, achieved after an ex(?) is trying to reach out to mark.

you take a step back, your hand instinctively pulling away from his. “i can’t do this right now, mark. i thought we were going in a good direction too."

his face crumples, his eyes widening with a mix of panic and guilt. “i didn’t mean to keep things from you. i swear. it’s just… complicated. jaemin and i—”

you raise your hand, cutting him off before he can finish “no. you don’t get to do this, mark. you don’t get to confess and then go on about your relationship with someone else. it’s not fair.”

mark’s eyes are filled with regret, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re standing there, feeling betrayed, alone in your confusion.

the phone buzzes one last time, and this time, you don’t even look at it. you’ve seen enough.

“i think i need some space,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. you turn away from him, your stomach churning, heart aching. you can feel the weight of the unspoken words in the air, and you can’t breathe under it anymore.

mark doesn’t stop you. he doesn’t even try to reach for you this time.

previous ꩜ .ᐟ next ꩜ .ᐟ masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

⊹₊⟡⋆ mel's corner: happy holidays guys hahaha

#: @hyuksworld @gela0205 @cyjzzl @mmjhh1998 @injvns @222brainrot @kittydollzz @tadadw @t-102 @sunghoonsgfreal @slayhaechan @nctrawberries @ryuvrsie @ttjisung @ddolbyong @purezitas @jae-n0 @ballsa420 @remgeolli @fullsungss @peterm4rker @autumngirlchim @holyhaech @njmluvr @choizzn @sewergirlfriend @ddolleri @toroufriteh @pickmedolls @haechansssun @yizhrt @haesluvr @ilovebtsomgie @seulpinkk @haechology @ant-onie

#nct #nct dream #nct smau #nct x reader #mark nct #mark x you #mark x reader #mark #mark lee #mark smau #mark lee smau #mark lee x you #mark lee nct #mark lee x reader

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lila-lou · 3 months ago

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✨His true fate - Part 25/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap, angst

Word Count: 6102

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

As the panel continued, Jensen found himself glancing at the clock more frequently, silently willing the minutes to pass faster. He answered questions as best as he could, but the more Danneel embellished their relationship, the more difficult it became for him to stay composed.

By the time the panel was finally drawing to a close, Jensen felt drained. He could feel the weight of the day pressing down on him, and all he wanted was to step away from the spotlight, away from the lies, and figure out how to regain control of his life.

Danneel stood up as the crowd applauded, waving and blowing kisses to the audience as she took Jensen’s hand again. He stood beside her, forcing a smile for the fans, but his thoughts were far away. The panel had ended, but the complications in his life had only deepened.

As Jensen, Danneel, and their bodyguards made their way off stage, the adrenaline from the panel slowly began to fade, replaced by an uncomfortable tension. Jensen walked ahead slightly, his mind still spinning from the charade he had just endured. The applause from the fans continued to echo in the background as they waved goodbye, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

Danneel, however, stayed close to him, her smile still plastered on her face as she waved to the remaining fans. But her demeanor shifted the moment they stepped into the privacy of the green room, the warmth in her expression replaced by something colder and sharper.

She leaned in close to Jensen, her voice a low hiss through gritted teeth. “Your little bitch here today?”, Danneel whispered, her eyes flashing with bitterness and barely-contained anger.

Jensen stiffened at her words, his jaw clenching as he stopped in his tracks. He turned to face her, his expression darkening with frustration. “This isn’t the time or place, Danneel", he muttered quietly. The bodyguards, sensing the shift in mood, kept their distance, but they were still close enough to offer a protective barrier from any potential onlookers.

Danneel’s eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with venom. “I bet she’s off sulking somewhere after seeing me up there with you. How pathetic”, she sneered. “I know she hates it, watching us play the perfect couple”.

Jensen took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure even though every fiber of his being was fighting the urge to lash out. “Enough”, he said firmly, his voice low but controlled. “We’ve talked about this. You don’t need to make this worse than it already is”.

Danneel raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “Worse? Oh, Jensen, you haven’t even seen what worse looks like”, she replied with a cold smile. “You’re the one who put us in this situation. If you think I’m going to just sit back and let you move on without consequences, you’ve got another thing coming”.

Jensen’s frustration deepened, but he knew there was no point in arguing with her here, not with people around who might overhear. He took a step back, his voice quiet and steady. “You need to stop with this, Danneel. This isn’t helping anyone—especially not our kids. I’m done playing games”.

Danneel’s smile faded slightly, her eyes darkening as she glared at him. “We’ll see”, she whispered before turning away, her posture still rigid with anger as she headed toward the exit. The bodyguards followed closely behind, ensuring she was escorted out of the building safely.

Jensen stayed behind for a moment, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. His heart was pounding, the weight of the day’s events pressing heavily on his shoulders. All he wanted now was to find some peace, to figure out a way forward without being pulled back into the toxic cycle that Danneel seemed determined to maintain.

He pulled out his phone, feeling the overwhelming urge to reach out to you, to hear your voice and remind himself of why he was doing all of this.

Jensen stared at his phone, your name glowing softly on the screen. His thumb hovered over the call button, but doubt crept in. The memory of sending you away earlier hung heavily in his mind. He knew it had hurt you, and now, after everything that had just happened with Danneel, he wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk to him. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel like you were caught in the middle of his mess.

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair again. What he wanted—what he needed—was to hear your voice, to feel grounded in something real. But he also didn’t want to burden you further. You’d been through enough today, and he knew you needed space, even if that meant he had to deal with the weight of it all on his own.

Instead of calling, he typed out a quick message, hoping it would at least let you know you were on his mind.

Jensen: Hey, I hope you're doing okay. I'm sorry for everything today. I know it wasn't fair to ask you to leave. I just didn't want you to have to go through all that.

He stared at the text for a moment, his thumb hovering over the send button. He wanted to say more, but no words seemed right. Finally, he pressed send, the message slipping out into the ether with no guarantee of what kind of response—if any—he would get.

Jensen slipped his phone back into his pocket and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he tried to collect himself. The weight of the day, of everything that had transpired, pressed down on him, and all he could think about was getting through the next few hours until he could escape the spotlight.

As he pushed himself off the wall and headed back toward the photo op area, his mind drifted back to you. He hoped you were okay, that you understood why he had done what he did, even if it had hurt. And more than anything, he hoped that once the dust settled, you would still be there on the other side, waiting for him.

For now, though, he had to face the remainder of the day with a smile, knowing that the real work—fixing things with you and navigating the storm Danneel had stirred up—was still waiting for him once the curtains closed.

The rest of the day dragged on painfully for Jensen. Every moment felt like an endless loop of uncomfortable interactions, forced smiles, and Danneel's constant presence at his side, putting on a show for everyone around them. Jensen had hoped for some distance after the panel, but Danneel was determined to be front and center, constantly inserting herself into every photo op and autograph session.

During the photo ops, Danneel stood beside him, her hand either resting on his arm or his back, always maintaining some physical contact. She smiled brightly for the fans, acting like they were the happiest couple in the world, despite the tension simmering just beneath the surface. Jensen’s smile grew more strained with each passing fan, his energy slowly draining as he tried to keep up the act.

"You're so lucky to have each other", one fan gushed as they stepped up for their photo. "You two seem so perfect together".

Jensen forced a chuckle, biting back the retort that sat on the tip of his tongue. He could feel Danneel’s eyes on him, daring him to break character, but he held his composure. “Thanks”, he muttered, barely managing to keep the smile plastered on his face as the camera flashed.

As they moved through the crowd, Danneel would occasionally lean in close, whispering under her breath but loud enough for him to hear. “See, this is what people expect”, she would say, her voice filled with a smug satisfaction. “This is what the world sees”.

Jensen gritted his teeth each time, forcing himself to stay calm. He wanted nothing more than to pull away, to escape from the facade she was building around them, but he knew that wasn’t possible here. So, he played along, offering stiff smiles and hollow reassurances, each one chipping away at his patience.

The autograph sessions weren’t much better. Danneel sat beside him at the table, chatting animatedly with fans, while Jensen signed photos and memorabilia. She made a point to talk about their family, their “shared” experiences, and the supposed love they had for each other. Every word felt like a punch to the gut, but Jensen kept his head down, focusing on the signatures, wishing for the hours to pass faster.

By the time the last fan left, Jensen felt utterly drained. His muscles ached from the forced smiles and tension that had built up throughout the day. Danneel, of course, remained in character until the very end, offering hugs and kind words as if nothing had ever been wrong between them. But Jensen knew better. He saw the calculating look in her eyes, the way she reveled in the attention and the image she had created.

As soon as they were alone in the green room again, Jensen let out a deep breath, his body sagging from exhaustion. He didn’t even bother to speak to Danneel. He simply walked to the farthest corner of the room, needing to be away from her, if only for a moment.

Jensen sat slumped in the corner of the green room, his eyes locked on the screen of his phone. He stared at the message he had sent you hours ago, hoping for any sign of a response, but there was nothing. The silence on your end was deafening, and it only added to the weight of the day pressing down on him.

He let out a heavy sigh, his frustration evident in the way his fingers tightened around the phone. He couldn’t stop thinking about you—whether you were okay, whether you were angry with him, or just needed space.

Nearby, Danneel was on her phone, talking loudly to one of her friends, her laughter grating on his already frayed nerves.

Jensen barely noticed when Jared and Misha walked into the room. They exchanged a glance, clearly noticing the tension in the air. Jared raised an eyebrow at Jensen, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. He approached slowly, Misha trailing behind him, both of them careful not to disrupt Danneel’s loud conversation.

“Hey, man”, Jared said cautiously, sitting down next to Jensen. “You alright?”.

Misha leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Jensen’s face. “You look like you’ve been through hell”, he added with a small, sympathetic smile.

Jensen didn’t look up from his phone, his thumb absently scrolling through the chat with you. “Feels like it”, he muttered under his breath, his voice tired and strained.

Jared exchanged a quick glance with Misha before leaning in closer. “You want to talk about it?”, he asked quietly.

Jensen shook his head, finally locking his phone and setting it down on the table in front of him. “Not really”, he replied, though the exhaustion in his voice told them everything they needed to know.

Misha sighed softly, running a hand through his hair as he glanced over at Danneel, who was still absorbed in her phone conversation, laughing loudly at something her friend had said. “I take it things with… her aren’t going so well”, Misha said carefully, lowering his voice.

Jensen huffed out a humorless laugh. “That’s an understatement”, he muttered. He leaned back, rubbing his hands over his face. “This whole day has been a fucking nightmare”.

Jared nodded in understanding, his expression softening with empathy. “We saw what happened during the panel”, he said gently. “You handled it better than I think anyone else could have, but… man, that had to be rough”.

“It was”, Jensen admitted, dropping his hands into his lap. “And now… I don’t even know where I stand with her anymore. She’s just playing games, trying to keep up appearances, and I can’t do it anymore”.

Misha tilted his head, frowning. “And with…?”. He gestured slightly, hinting at you without outright mentioning your name, knowing how complicated the situation was.

Jensen sighed again, picking up his phone and glancing at the screen one more time. “She’s not answering”, he said quietly, his voice laced with worry. “I told her to leave earlier, to protect her from all of this, but now… I don’t know. I don’t even know if she’s okay”.

Jared placed a reassuring hand on Jensen’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “She’s probably just giving you space, man. You know how much she cares about you. She’ll reach out when she’s ready”.

Misha nodded in agreement. “She’s smart. She’s probably just taking some time to clear her head”, he said, motioning toward the chaos that Danneel had created throughout the day.

Jensen nodded, but the worry in his chest didn’t ease. He hoped they were right—that you were just taking time for yourself, away from the mess that had unfolded. But the longer the silence stretched between you, the more his anxiety grew.

What Jensen didn’t know was that, after leaving the convention, you had gone shopping to clear your head. The stress of the day, the emotional toll of seeing Jensen and Danneel together—it had all been too much. After wandering the shops for a while, you returned to the hotel, deciding to spend some time in the spa to relax and recharge. Your phone was left behind in your room, forgotten in your rush to distance yourself from the emotional turmoil of the day.

As you sank into the warm waters of the spa, the tension in your body slowly began to melt away. You closed your eyes, letting the soothing atmosphere calm your mind. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to escape from everything—from the chaos, from the hurt, and from the constant worrying.

But even in the calm, your thoughts would drift back to Jensen, wondering how he was holding up, hoping that he was okay, and knowing that eventually, you would have to face the reality of the situation once again.

Jared sighed, his broad shoulders sagging a little as he glanced over at Jensen. “Today’s almost over, man”, he said softly, trying to sound reassuring. “You’ve done enough of this circus for one day. When all this is wrapped up, you should head back to the hotel, check on her, and have a nice quiet evening. Just the two of you”.

Jensen nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on his phone once more. Jared’s suggestion sounded like exactly what he needed—some time away from the chaos, some time with you where he didn’t have to put on a show or deal with the endless drama of the day.

Misha chimed in with a supportive nod. “Jared’s right. You need to reset, and she probably does too. You both deserve a break after today”.

Jensen finally looked up, his expression a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. “Yeah… I know you’re both right”, he admitted. “I just hope she’s okay, and that I didn’t screw things up by sending her away earlier”,

Jared shook his head firmly. “You were looking out for her. She’ll understand that, even if it hurt in the moment. Give her some time, and once you’re back together, you’ll be able to talk everything out. You just need to get away from… this”. He gestured around the room, where the remnants of the day’s chaos still lingered.

Danneel was still on her phone, oblivious to the conversation, but Jensen felt her presence like a weight pressing down on him.

“I’ll head back to the hotel as soon as I’m done here”, Jensen said, his voice firmer now, as if deciding that was exactly what he needed.

As the evening drew closer, Jensen did his best to mask his exhaustion and annoyance. The day had dragged on painfully, every moment feeling heavier than the last, but he managed to push through, his thoughts constantly drifting to you and the peace he hoped to find back at the hotel. However, escaping the chaos of the convention was proving to be harder than he’d anticipated.

After the final event wrapped up, Jensen found himself in the green room once more, surrounded by the cast, Danneel, and the lingering energy of the day. Everyone was discussing dinner plans, trying to figure out where they should all go to unwind and celebrate another successful convention. Jensen, on the other hand, was barely paying attention. His mind was already at the hotel, focused on getting back to you and leaving the madness behind.

He slowly inched toward the door, hoping to slip out unnoticed and avoid any more forced interactions. His plan was almost successful until Rob caught sight of him just as he reached for the handle.

“Hey, Jensen!”, Rob called out, his tone casual and friendly, completely unaware of the tension brewing within Jensen. “Where are you thinking of going for dinner? We were just talking about hitting up that Italian place downtown. You in?”.

Jensen froze, feeling the weight of all eyes on him. He could sense Danneel watching him closely, her gaze sharp as she waited for his response. Jared, who had been chatting with Misha on the other side of the room, noticed Jensen’s discomfort immediately. Jared quickly jumped in to help, sensing his friend’s desperation to get out of the situation.

“Actually”, Jared interjected smoothly, “Jensen’s been dealing with a pretty nasty headache all day. I think he’s gonna skip dinner tonight and head back to the hotel to rest. Isn’t that right, Jensen?”.

Jensen shot Jared a grateful look, nodding along with the story. “Yeah, it’s been a long day”, he added, his voice steady but weary. “I think I’m just going to call it an early night. You guys enjoy dinner, though”.

The room seemed to accept his explanation easily enough, with Rob giving him an understanding nod. “Oh man, sorry to hear that”, Rob said sympathetically. “You get some rest, and we’ll catch up tomorrow”.

But Danneel wasn’t ready to let him off the hook so easily. She narrowed her eyes slightly, a smile still plastered on her face as she leaned forward, her voice just a touch too sweet. “Are you sure, Jensen? I mean, dinner with the cast is always a good way to unwind. You’ve been so stressed today—maybe some time out with everyone would do you some good”.

Jensen tensed, feeling the weight of Danneel’s words. He knew her well enough to catch the underlying message—she wasn’t ready for him to slip away just yet. She wanted to maintain the appearance of the perfect couple, even if it was just for the sake of the cast. He glanced toward Jared, silently pleading for an out.

Jared, sensing the tension rise once again, spoke up quickly. “Nah, I think he’s better off resting. Trust me, if he’s got a headache, he’s not gonna enjoy dinner as much as he should. Let him take the night off, and we’ll all hang out tomorrow”.

Danneel’s smile tightened ever so slightly, but she didn’t press the issue further. Instead, she nodded and leaned back in her chair, her voice light but with an edge that only Jensen could detect. “Alright, Jensen”, she said, her eyes still locked on him. “But make sure you get some rest. We’ve got another big day tomorrow".

Jensen nodded, eager to leave the room. “I will”, he said quickly, stepping toward the door. “See you all tomorrow”.

With that, he slipped out of the green room, his heart pounding with relief as he made his way toward the exit. The moment he was outside, he took a deep breath, the cool evening air washing over him. He pulled out his phone once more, hoping to see a message from you waiting for him, but his screen remained empty.

His heart sank slightly, but he reminded himself that you were probably just taking some time to relax. Maybe you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you were taking a nap after the stress of the day. Either way, he was determined to see you, to make sure you were okay, and to find some peace in your company after the long and exhausting day.

Jensen made his way back to the hotel, the city lights flickering around him as he walked. His thoughts remained focused on you, on the conversation he knew you both needed to have, and on the quiet evening he desperately hoped for.

All he wanted now was to be with you, away from the spotlight, away from the lies, and back to something real.

When Jensen stepped into the hotel room, the soft light from the hallway cast long shadows across the floor. The room was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos and noise of the day. As soon as he closed the door quietly behind him, he saw you—curled up in the bed, wearing one of his shirts, your body wrapped tightly in the sheets. The sight of you like that, so small and vulnerable, tugged at his heart.

He paused for a moment, letting the calmness of the room wash over him. Finally, something real. Finally, something that made sense. He carefully slipped off his shoes, trying not to disturb the quiet atmosphere, but as soon as he took his first step towards the bed, you stirred.

Your eyes fluttered open, sleep still clinging to you as you blinked in the soft light. You saw Jensen standing by the edge of the bed, and for a split second, he felt his heart tighten in his chest. He wasn’t sure what to expect—anger? Frustration? Pain? After everything that had happened today, he wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d been furious with him for pushing you away. But instead, there was no fire in your eyes. No anger.

You looked at him, and he could see the sadness that had taken root. It was a quiet kind of sadness, the kind that weighed heavily on your chest and made your heart ache. It wasn’t a scream or a shout—it was the slow, sinking feeling of disappointment.

Jensen swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. He walked over to you, sitting down on the edge of the bed cautiously. His hand hesitated for a moment before he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Hey”, he said softly, his voice filled with the same quiet sadness he saw reflected in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to wake you”.

You blinked again, sitting up slightly, adjusting the oversized shirt you were wearing—his shirt—pulling it closer around you. You didn’t say anything for a moment, but Jensen could feel the weight of your emotions in the air between you.

“I was just waiting for you to come back”, you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. There was no accusation in your tone, just an overwhelming sense of exhaustion—emotional more than physical.

Jensen’s heart ached at your words. He leaned closer, his hand resting gently on your leg, needing to feel connected to you somehow. “I’m sorry”, he whispered. “For everything today. I shouldn’t have sent you away. I thought I was protecting you, but I… I don’t know if I did the right thing”.

You shook your head slightly, offering a small, sad smile. “I understand why you did it, Jensen”, you said. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt”.

Jensen’s chest tightened at the honesty in your voice. He could see how much today had affected you—how much it had affected both of you. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently as if trying to convey everything he was feeling without words. “I never wanted to hurt you”, he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “All I want is for this… all of this… to be over so we can just… be together. Without the lies, without the games”.

You looked down at your joined hands, your thumb brushing over his knuckles softly. “I know”, you whispered. “I just want that too”.

Jensen felt a rush of relief at your words. He could sense the sadness in your voice, but he could also hear the hope. You hadn’t given up on him—on the two of you. And for that, he was endlessly grateful.

He shifted closer to you on the bed, pulling you into his arms. You nestled against his chest, feeling the familiar warmth of him surrounding you, grounding you. Jensen pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as he whispered into your hair, “I love you”.

You closed your eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace soothe the ache in your chest. “I love you too”, you whispered back, your voice full of quiet honesty.

Jensen looked down at you nestled against his chest, and something caught his eye. The dim light of the hotel room cast soft shadows on your skin, highlighting the slight wrinkles and creases on your hands and arms. He furrowed his brow for a moment, then chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood.

“What the hell happened here?”, he teased gently, lifting your hand to inspect it playfully. “You look older than me now”. His voice was warm and affectionate, the teasing laced with genuine curiosity.

You chuckled weakly, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of your lips. It was a sound Jensen had missed all day—a sound that brought a little bit of warmth back into his chest. “I spent most of the day at the spa”, you explained softly, shifting slightly to push closer into the warmth of his arms. “I guess all the soaking pruned me up more than I thought”.

Jensen smirked, lightly rubbing his thumb over your wrinkled skin as if testing the texture for himself. “So that’s where you’ve been hiding”, he murmured, his tone playfully accusing. “Trying to turn into a raisin while I was out there fighting off the circus”.

You laughed a little louder this time, the tension between the two of you starting to ease. “Something like that”, you said, leaning your head back to look up at him. “I just… I needed to get away. I thought maybe a few hours in the spa would help me relax after everything. It helped a little… but I couldn’t stop thinking about you”.

Jensen’s expression softened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry you had to go through that today”, he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin. “If I could’ve spared you from all of it, I would’ve. I just wanted to protect you from Danneel’s… antics”.

You nodded, your eyes closing as you rested your head back against his chest. “I know. And I’m not mad at you, Jensen. I promise”, you reassured him. “It was just hard. Seeing her up there with you".

You shifted slightly in Jensen’s arms, turning your face into his chest as your voice softened with concern. “Did it get worse after I left?”, you asked quietly, your breath warm against his skin.

Jensen sighed heavily, the weight of the day pressing down on him again. He ran a hand over his face, as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion and frustration that had built up over the hours. “You have no idea”, he mumbled, his voice laced with weariness.

Without another word, he pulled you even closer against him, needing to feel you, to ground himself in your presence. The warmth of your body, the familiar scent of you wrapped in his shirt, helped ease the tension in his chest. Holding you like this reminded him of why he was fighting through all the chaos and drama—because this, the connection between you, was what mattered most.

You felt his heart beating steadily beneath your ear, his arms tight around you as if he was afraid to let go. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence in the room filled only with the sound of your synchronized breathing.

After a while, the silence between you both deepened into something almost peaceful, though you could still feel the tension in Jensen’s body. You stayed nestled against him, letting the quiet wrap around you like a protective blanket. It felt good to just be with him after everything, but you could sense that something was still weighing heavily on his mind.

Finally, Jensen shifted slightly, pressing his lips to the top of your head before speaking. His voice was softer now, tinged with a vulnerability he rarely let show. “There’s something I need to tell you”, he began, his breath warm against your hair.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. “What is it?”.

He hesitated for a moment, then let out a long sigh as he gently stroked your arm. “I sent Danneel the divorce papers”, he admitted quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “That’s why she came here, why she’s been putting on such a huge show today”.

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words settled over you. You pulled back slightly to look at him, searching his face for more. “She doesn’t want to sign them”, you said, more of a statement than a question, but you needed to hear it from him.

Jensen nodded, his jaw tightening with frustration. “She’s fighting it”, he said, his voice edged with exhaustion. “I thought… I thought it would be easier. I hoped she’d understand that we’ve been done for a long time, but she doesn’t want to let go. She’s trying to hold on to the image, to the life we had, even though it’s over”.

You let out a quiet sigh, resting your hand on his chest as you tried to process what he was telling you. It made sense now—the reason for Danneel’s behavior, the way she had gone out of her way to put on a show in front of everyone, clinging to the idea of their relationship despite everything.

“She’s trying to make it look like we’re still together, that everything’s fine”, he explained. “She thinks that if she just… keeps up the act, she can make it all go away. But it’s not going to work. I’ve made up my mind. I want out”.

You could hear the determination in his voice, and it reassured you in a way. Despite everything Danneel had done, despite the pressure she was trying to apply, Jensen was standing his ground. He was committed to moving forward, to building a new life—and that life included you.

You slowly lifted your gaze, searching his eyes with a mix of hesitation and concern. “Are you really sure about the divorce?”, you asked softly, your voice steady but filled with the weight of the question. You weren’t doubting his feelings for you; you just wanted to make sure he had fully thought through this decision.

Jensen met your gaze, his green eyes reflecting a mix of exhaustion, frustration, and unwavering resolve. He exhaled deeply, his hand gently stroking your arm in a soothing motion as he thought about how to answer.

“Yeah”, he said quietly but firmly, nodding as if reaffirming the decision in his mind. “I’ve thought about this for a long time… probably longer than I realized. I tried to hold on for the kids, for the sake of keeping everything stable. But there’s no love left between us—not the kind that a marriage needs to survive, anyway”.

You bit your lip, the uncertainty still lingering in your heart despite his reassurances. His words made sense, and you could see the conviction in his eyes, but there was still a small part of you that wondered where this left the two of you. Carefully, you asked, your voice soft but steady, "And what does that mean for us?".

Jensen's brow furrowed slightly, sensing the vulnerability in your question. He shifted, adjusting himself so that he could look at you more directly. His hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he squeezed gently.

"It means…", he began, his voice full of sincerity as he searched for the right words. "It means that I’m all in. With you. I’ve already made that decision in my heart, even if I’ve been stuck in this mess with Danneel for longer than I should have been. But what we have—it’s real. And I want to build something with you".

He paused, his gaze intense as he continued. "I know it’s not going to be easy. I know there are a lot of obstacles we still have to face. But I’m not going to let anything come between us. You’ve been patient with me, more than I deserve sometimes, and I don’t want to take that for granted".

Your heart softened at his words, and the knot of uncertainty that had been twisting inside you began to unravel. His honesty and the raw emotion in his voice reassured you in a way that nothing else could. He wasn’t just saying the words you wanted to hear—he truly meant them.

"I just…", you hesitated, unsure of how to express the swirling emotions inside you. "I don’t want to be the reason things fall apart for you, Jensen. I don’t want to be the one who causes more pain, especially when it comes to your kids. I want to be with you, but I’m scared of what that could mean for them".

Jensen’s eyes softened, and he leaned in closer, his hand cradling the side of your face as he looked at you with such tenderness that it made your heart ache. "You’re not the reason anything is falling apart", he said gently. "That’s been happening for a long time, even before you came into the picture. This isn’t your fault—it’s just the reality of a relationship that stopped working. And as for my kids… they’ll always come first. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t space for us too".

He paused, searching your eyes for understanding. "I love my kids, and I’ll always do what’s best for them. But I also want to be happy. And I know that being with you makes me happy. We’ll figure out the balance. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work".

Tears welled in your eyes, not out of sadness but out of relief. You reached up, placing your hand over his on your cheek, and leaned into his touch. "I just want you to be sure", you whispered. "Because I’m all in, too. I just needed to know that you are".

Jensen smiled softly, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "I’m sure", he said with quiet certainty. "More sure than I’ve been about anything in a long time".

With that, he leaned in, pressing his lips gently to yours. The kiss was slow and tender, filled with all the emotion he couldn’t fully put into words. As you kissed him back, you felt the last of your doubts melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and reassurance.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 26

Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles the boys #jensen ackles x y/n #his true fate

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dudeshusband · 6 months ago

Text

Title: There's nothing like walking and having a heart to heart

(or Mike's Birthday Fic)

Ship: Mike x Dude

Words: 1.6k

Description: It's Mike's birthday and Dude spends the day with them to celebrate.

Mike woke up to warm lips gently kissing their forehead. They grumbled sleepily. The kisser whispered something that Mike’s still half-asleep brain couldn’t make out. The kissing was now accompanied by a big, warm hand cupping their cheek. Mike’s eyes fluttered open and they grimaced at the light pouring into their eyes. They barely got a glance at the person before closing their eyes again.

“What?” they grumbled, trying to shield their eyes with their pillow.

“Happy birthday, honey,” Dude said gently into their ear (they could make out who it was now). Mike shivered involuntarily from his breath so close to their neck. “I brought breakfast.”

He brought what? Mike’s brain was still in slow sleepy mode. Breakfast. Hm. Since when does their husband cook?

“Breakfast?” Mike mumbled. They looked at him when their eyes finally adjusted to the light. He was smiling at them as gently as they ever saw. His warm brown eyes twinkled in the light of the sun through the window.

He gestured to a tray sitting on the dresser. “I made you breakfast, with Consuelo’s help of course.”

“In bed?” Mike asked, still puzzled. They’d never had breakfast brought to their bed before.

“It’s eggs, toast, jam, and coffee,” he said with a smile. “I’d’ve had some bacon but…”

But I’m vegetarian, Mike’s brain finished. “Thank you.”

Dude brought it over like he was very proud of himself. Mike couldn’t help but chuckle, especially as they started to eat, and he watched them, gauging their reaction. You’d think he had never cooked anything in his whole life. Of course, that wasn’t true, but he hadn’t cooked much since he’d been with Mike. The coffee was pretty good. It was probably fresh off the stove and probably made by Consuelo. It had lots of sugar, just as they liked it. The eggs were made over easy. The toast was toasted lightly and the jam was strawberry. All of their preferences. Did Dude remember such trivial details?

He was still watching them carefully. Mike had never seen him quite so eager to impress, except for in the Burdette saloon, two years before.

“Did you remember how I take my coffee and like my eggs?”

He nodded. “Maybe I’m a sap, but I wanna know everything about you all the time.”

Mike’s heart warmed and their brain scrambled. He wanted to know everything? Even such stupid things as how they like their toast?

“It’s good. Thanks.”

Dude grinned. He had a grin that never ceased to reduce Mike to a puddle at his feet. He moved the tray and sat next to them on the bed.

He took their hands eagerly. “We’re gonna spend the day together. You and me. We’ll take a walk around town, talk a little. We’ll have lunch at one of these cantinas. I’ll give you your present, and we’ll have dinner here. I’ll run you a bath and we’ll spend the night in bed. We could cuddle or make love or whatever you want.”

Quite a day. Mike chuckled. “Am I going to have a minute alone?”

“You want a minute alone?” He looked almost disappointed but was trying not to show it. Mike saw right through that.

“No,” they said. “But you’re being awfully…well, you seem to want to do everything for me.”

Dude shook his head fondly. “You spend every other day actin’ like I’m the damn king of something and it’s a problem when I wanna spend a day with you?”

“You’re the king of my heart, that’s something.”

“What you see in me, honey, I’ll never know.”

Mike saw their idea of an ideal man. They saw a handsome, brave, kindhearted man who had been through a lot but could still be funny and smile with a brightness to outmatch the sun. They saw a man they loved. They didn’t say any of this.

“I’ll take the day you have planned,” Mike decided. “It’d be nice to be with you all day uninterrupted.”

Dude was either anxious or eager. “You wanna take that walk now?”

They nodded. “After I get dressed.” They stood and moved toward the dresser, where the breakfast tray had been moved back to.

Dude waited on the bed for them to get dressed, and watched them as they did so. Dude’s gaze on their bare skin had once been a cause for nerves but now it was near comforting. Mike’s insecurity could never let it become fully comforting. His gaze was often appreciative, occasionally lustful in a way that was simultaneously loving. Now, it seemed enchanted, as if he was still amazed by what he saw. Mike shook their head and figured they misread his eyes.

Once they were dressed, Dude held out his hand to them. His hand always felt like they were made to hold theirs. They knew they were being silly by having that thought, and yet, it felt true.

“You look nice,” Dude said eventually, once they reached the road outside of the hotel.

Mike looked down at themselves. Brown pants, pale yellow shirt, bandana, cowboy hat. “These are my regular clothes, Dude.”

“Alright, you always look nice. I figure sayin’ it all the time would make it mean nothing.”

Their mind went back to the way he was watching him dress. Mike bit their lip, then released it. “What look were you giving me upstairs?” Dude’s skin warmed, but he didn’t quite blush enough to be pink. “I was thinking ‘bout how lucky I am.”

Lucky. Mike repeated it in their mind. How could he be the lucky one here? They glanced at his warm brown eyes and his charming smile. If anyone was lucky, it was them.

As if sensing the retort brewing in Mike’s mind, Dude added, “You’re beautiful, and good to me. Nobody’s ever loved me like you. Everybody, except Chance, stopped giving me a chance when I was a drunk. You didn’t. I was terrible to be around, I know that. I know I don’t talk about that enough. I appreciate it.”

Mike glanced at him for a long time. “You weren’t terrible. It was hard seeing you like that. Not because you were a failure or a bad person, but because I loved you and you were hurt. You don’t need to feel indebted to me, you’ve done a lot for me too.”

“It’s not about gettin’ even, honey.”

Mike scoffed. “I know. We’re married. This isn’t business.”

“I was just sayin’ I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to say that on your birthday. I wanted to show that too.”

Dude had a slow, occasionally hesitant way of speaking. He almost caressed the words he said as he said them. They could never tell whether his brain worked slower than his mouth, if his mouth worked slower than his brain, or perhaps he needed time to consider each word he said. Regardless of the reason, the sound of Dude’s voice made everything feel sleepy and safe. Mike squeezed Dude’s hand affectionately. They didn’t need to say anything more.

Mike walked around town with Dude until their legs started to feel like lead and the sweat built up. It didn’t take long in Texas July heat.

Dude pulled them close on the bench they stopped to rest on. Mike couldn’t help but notice the increase in affection today.

“I want everyone to know you’re mine,” he said into their ear. There was something comforting about Dude’s brand of possessiveness. He never meant Mike was his property, like some men may have. He wanted everyone to know he loved Mike, and who they’d answer to if Mike got hurt. He’d defend their person and their honor from anyone. They were his to love and protect, not own. Not control.

Mike blushed slightly, then quipped,“They already know that, silly. Small town.”

He chuckled warmly and Mike felt it rumble in his chest. “I was just remindin’ ‘em.” And me, Mike thought. A roundabout way of saying ‘You’re safe with me. I love you.’ Mike always seemed to need the reminder.

“If anybody should be possessive, it’s me,” Mike joked. “My birthday would be a terrible day to lose you to a pretty distraction.”

“You’re the only pretty distraction.”

“Is that so?” Mike teased lightly.

Dude kissed their head in response.

“Can I have my gift before lunch?” Mike asked him.

“I don’t see why not.”

Dude reached into the inside pocket of his vest and pulled out something small, in a pain box. “It’s nothing fancy. I thought maybe you’d like to wear something you got from me, like that yellow shirt you made me. It’s not real gold. If I could get you somethin’ real nice with diamonds…”

Mike’s heart melted when they saw Dude’s horseshoe necklace. No, it wasn’t anything like the ornate gold and silver ones the rich might have. It might’ve been an alloy or maybe plated. Whatever it was, it wasn’t real gold, Mike knew that, and didn’t remotely care. They pulled their husband into a hug.

“I love you,” they said. “I’m never taking this off. It could be straw for all I care.”

“I thought maybe you’d want something nicer. You deserve something nicer.”

Mike shook their head. “Help me put it on?”

Dude clasped the necklace around their neck and snuck a kiss just above it. Mike’s skin heated in response, and their stomach fluttered. Mike tucked the necklace under their shirt.

“This might be the nicest birthday I’ve ever had.” They told him.

“I’m glad. I love you, honey.”

Mike kissed him, slowly and affectionately, and the pair went to lunch. Mike never felt more adored than they did that day.

#typewriter dings #dude

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whumpcereal · 11 months ago

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behavior modification, a valentine special

hi! long time, no see. i was home sick from work today and marathoning valentine movies, so here's some sentimental jack and joe for you. part of behavior modification (masterlist here), takes place sometime in the first year after jack's rescue, during his lawsuit against WRU for his freedom.

content warnings for: trauma responses, references to past noncon, tooth-rotting fluff

future snippet, sealed with a kiss

“Is this for your special someone?”

The clerk’s smile is impossibly large; if she smiles any wider, Joe is convinced her face will crack. He understands. She’s probably asked this question at least seventy-five million times in the last week, and it’s a pointless one. Valentine cards are a perfunctory part of being in a relationship. Even if you don’t think your someone is all that special, you still buy them a card because that’s what the day demands. It’s part of the reason Joe never really cared about Valentine’s Day before. The forced displays of affection, the candy pink sheen of it all–it never seemed to reflect the kind of love Joe knew to be true.

But this year, it’s different. This year, the clerk’s question isn’t so pointless. Joe looks down at the red envelope in his hand, and he cannot hide his own smile. “Yes, it is. Someone very special.”

“Well, I’m sure she’ll love it!” the clerk sing-songs back. With a pop of her gum, she grabs the card and scans it.

Joe doesn’t correct her. At least, not overtly. “I hope he does,” he says softly, but the clerk doesn’t look up.

They never really celebrated Valentine’s Day before. Sure, Joe liked to rage against the consumer machine, but it was really Jack’s doing. Jack was indifferent, or, at least, he pretended to be. The truth was gift-giving occasions always made him a little uncomfortable. In Jack’s mind, gifts were offered only as part of a fucked-up trade; something he might want for something he certainly didn’t want to give. Joe had learned that the hard way.

They had been seeing each other maybe a month at the time, but Jack was already spending most of his nights at Joe’s place, even if they hadn’t quite consummated their relationship yet. Joe didn’t know at the time that Jack had basically been squatting in the library study carrels and showering at the fitness center, but even if he had, he was more than happy to have Jack with him as much as possible.

It had been a hard week. Jack was marking exams as well as taking his own, and Joe had been preparing for a conference; neither of them had come up for air in days. But when the grades were submitted and the presentation finalized, Joe thought they should celebrate. He thought he’d surprise Jack, and he brought home an expensive bottle of champagne and flowers.

Jack had paled when Joe handed him the roses. “What are these for?” he’d asked.

“For you, silly. For getting through this bear of a week.” Because I love you, Joe had thought but not said. It was too early. But he kissed Jack’s cheek, because that was something he was allowed to do. It made his body feel electric.

But when he pulled away, Jack was still staring at the roses. “Thank you.” He didn’t sound particularly thankful.

“Are you okay?”

A vacant nod. “Yeah. They’re beautiful. Thank you.” Jack set the roses down and turned toward the pantry. “Let me just get dinner started, and then–”

“You don’t have to make dinner tonight, Jack.” It was before Jack was his Jackie. Before Joe knew what he knows now. “I thought we could kick back and relax. Celebrate.”

“Of course,” Jack said softly, his chin dipping into the hollow of his throat. “Of course we’ll celebrate. I’ll take care of you.”

Joe knows that tone of voice now. The faraway note that lets him know Jack is falling back into old habits, a tone that, these days, precipitates a whispered sir. But he didn’t know then.

He didn’t see the way that Jack gnawed on his lip for a split second before he launched himself bodily at Joe, their hips crashing together, Jack’s hands in Joe’s hair. Joe fumbled to set the champagne on the counter behind him, to wrap his hands around Jack’s waist, but Jack’s fingers were already plucking open Joe’s shirt buttons, his mouth close behind. Jack was on his knees so quickly that Joe wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Jack–ohmygod, Jack.”

It was everything Joe wanted, but he didn’t know yet that it wasn’t what Jack wanted. Not until he’d looked down and seen tears squeezing from Jack’s pruned eyelids.

“Jack?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I can’t, I just–I know you deserve it. I know what you want. I’ll try again. I’m sorry.”

It was then that Joe realized. The flowers. The champagne. Jack assumed they were all part of a transaction.

Jack told him everything that night. About Bill and the others. And Joe learned. He never surprised Jack that way again. Even after Jack came home from WRU–no, especially then–Joe tried to avoid surprises. For Jack, tokens of affection were part and parcel of an economy where he was the commodity. Joe doesn’t want him to feel that way, not ever again.

But a card. A card is different.

Joe knows about WRU’s training protocol now. Jack is lucky. Those bastards may have burrowed their poison into his brain, but he still has his words; he can still read. It was one of the only things that gave him comfort when he came home. Books were some of the only things he didn’t ask to touch. Joe understands. Words matter more than things.

The clerk pops her gum again. “You want a bag and a gold seal?”

“No, that’s all right.” Joe manages to stop short of telling her that he’s going to seal this one with a kiss.

“Well, have a happy Valentine’s day, sir.”

“I will. Thank you.”

The card is in its envelope when Joe lets himself into the apartment, and Jack is in the kitchen. The apartment is fragrant with a warm, red wine smell. Joe tiptoes to stand in the cheap stucco archway. He watches the way Jack’s basketball short-clad hips move softly to the old fashioned jazz that’s coming from the speaker on the counter. His body is shyer somehow, more tentative in its movements, but still lithe and beautiful. Jack is still Jack, even after everything he’s been through.

Joe lets out a low whistle, and Jack turns, a pasta server in his hand and a shy smile on his lips. Joe’s knees practically buckle.

“You’re home,” Jack says.

“I’m home, baby.” Joe moves into the kitchen, and when Jack offers his lips, Joe takes them, resting a soft hand on Jack’s hip. “What are you making?”

“Red wine pasta with toasted walnuts and arugula,” Jack says easily. He kisses Joe’s jawline.

“I know what one of those things is.”

Jack laughs. “My gourmand.”

“Or something!”

“How was your day, Joey?” Jack disengages slowly and goes to pour Joe a glass of wine.

It’s a difficult question some days. Jack’s days are so different from Joe’s. He isn’t allowed to leave the apartment without supervision until the litigation with WRU is over. Until it’s done, Jack is still technically Joe’s property. But only technically. Joe reminds himself of that every day.

“It was alright. I missed you.” But it’s easier now. Now, Joe has far fewer opportunities to miss his Jackie.

Jack smiles, sneaking a sip from the glass before he hands it to Joe. “I missed you too.”

Joe raises his glass and leans back against the cheap countertop. “I would’ve been home earlier, but I had to make a special stop.”

Jack is back at the stove. He upends the wine bottle into a sauce pan, and a cloud of rich steam rises in its wake. “Why’s that?”

“I wanted to get you a card for Valentine’s Day.” Joe says it gently, so that it will not be a surprise.

Jack freezes, his hand hovering over the sauce pan for just a second, but then his shoulders relax. He peeks at Joe. “You? Mr. ‘Conversation-Hearts-Are-Nuggets-of-Corporate-Greed’?”

Joe smothers his own smile. Jack remembers. “Yes, me.” He pulls the card from his pocket. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Jackie.”

Jack puts a lid over the pan and turns around. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“You’re all the gift I need,” Joe whispers, because it is true. Every one of the days he spends with Jack is a gift. He knew that even before, but every nerve in his body is certain of it now.

Jack tries to roll his eyes, but Joe can see that his words have landed. “Well, thank you,” Jack says softly. His fingertips whisper against Joe’s when he reaches for the card.

“Open it up, baby.”

Jack complies, carefully opening the red envelope that Joe absolutely kissed without a hint of irony after he licked the seal and pressed it closed. The card itself isn’t so special; just the standard hearts and flowers schlock that all the stores sell this time of year. But Joe’s written his own message inside. He watches Jack’s eyes move like a typewriter carriage over his uneven scrawl.

Jackie,

I know we don’t usually do this, but I feel like I haven’t told you enough how grateful I am that you are home. Nothing felt right without you, and I know now that it never could. You are my home. You are stronger than any foundation, and I will never stop thanking God that you choose to be with me, even after everything you’ve been through. And it is your choice. You have every choice. You deserve that.

I choose you, every day. I always will.

Love,

Joe

When Jack looks up again, his blue eyes are glassy with tears. “Joey–”

“I didn’t mean to–”

Jack shakes his head. He folds the card carefully and stares down at it. “You didn’t. Joe?”

Joe takes a hesitant step forward. “What is it, baby?”

“I choose this. I do.”

Jack reaches for him then, and Joe pulls Jack into his chest. “I know you do. And even if you didn’t or if–if someday, you don’t, I’ll always be grateful for this. Right now.”

Jack lets Joe hold him, and Joe knows exactly what this moment is worth. He wraps his arms so tightly around Jack that, if he didn’t know exactly how strong Jack is, he might crush him. But no one can crush Jack, and Joe knows how to hold him. Joe knows how to give him room and keep him close all at once. Joe knows how to let him choose.

taglist: @oddsconvert, @darkthingshappen, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @sparrowsage, @aut0psy1, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @termsnconditions-apply, @darlingwhump, @squishablesunbeam, @dont-be-gentle-please, @deltaxxk, @irishwhiskeygrl, @keeper-of-all-the-random-things, @hold-him-down, @peachy-panic, @whumpyblogthing, @sowhumpful, @considerablecolors, @ramadiiiisme, @sunnie, @sadboysanonymous, @panic-whump

#behavior modification #jack kenyon oc #joe prescott oc #box boy universe #box boy whump #recovery whump #whump writing #haven't done much with these boys in ages #so have this humble offering #and enjoy the pleasure pain of a tough recovery #and their love #haaaa

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hbyrde36 · 10 months ago

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No Vacancy

Chapter 9: Weekend Retreat

WC: 4939 | R: Explicit | CH: 9/12 | AO3 | Now Complete!

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8

*EDDIE*

“Fuck!”

Eddie shouted long and loud, the sound echoing inside the hollow interior of the van as he pounded his fist against the steering wheel over and over until his hand went numb. The lines on the road in front of him blurred as he flew down the highway with tears swimming in his eyes.

The thing was, he’d known from the second he walked away from Steve that he was making a mistake. The entire time, as he flew up to their room, packed an overnight bag, and went back down to take off, he knew he was doing the wrong thing—but he hadn’t been able to stop.

He was running away like he always did. At the first sign of trouble he’d jumped to the worst possible conclusion and used it as an excuse to bolt.

Not that he didn’t have a reason to be upset. They’d lied to him.

Even Steve.

His Steve, who knew how Eddie felt about that kind of thing, who knew how hard it was for him to trust—had lied to his face!

And sure, he’d had a flimsy justification locked and loaded for why he’d done it, if his story of only just finding out about the room situation were to be believed.

Eddie was heartbroken. He felt tricked, cheated, and betrayed—and honestly?

He was angry.

Never in his life had he been as happy as he was these last few weeks. He was staying in a beautiful place where he was able to see his best friend as often as he wanted, had a job he enjoyed with a boss he actually liked, and after a lifetime of keeping his heart on ice he’d finally found someone worth thawing it out for.

Or so he’d thought.

He should have seen this coming, it had felt a little too good to be true, but it’d been easy to push those worries aside and just enjoy being with Steve.

It wasn’t just the steady diet of sex that had lulled him into a false sense of security either, though their chemistry in the bedroom was undeniable—their insatiable desire for each other unlike anything he’d ever known before. It was all the rest of it too that had infected him with so much hope.

Steve actually cared about him, as a person. He listened, no matter what crazy shit came out of Eddie’s mouth. Even the hard things, the stuff Eddie never thought he’d share with another human being, apart from Chrissy or his Uncle. He told Steve everything, gave himself freely, openly, and Steve had held him, validated him—was never impatient or unkind. And Steve had, or so it seemed at the time, shared himself freely with Eddie too.

But it was all ruined now.

If not by Steve’s betrayal, then surely Eddie’s running away had finished the job. By taking off, hadn’t he simply proved Steve’s point?

He drove straight through the night, only stopping to pee or to get a coffee whenever his eyelids started to droop, and managed to make the drive to Hawkins in just over eight hours, pulling up to the trailer right as Wayne was getting home from his shift at the plant.

Eddie shut the ignition off and stepped out of the van on shaky legs. After pulling his bag from the back, he staggered over to meet his uncle as the man was getting out of his own truck.

“Hey, Pops.”

“You drive all night?” Wayne asked, frowning as he studied Eddie’s face.

It wasn’t the first time, or even the fifth, that he’d shown up on his uncle’s doorstep unannounced since officially moving out so many years ago, and Wayne didn’t look all that surprised to see him.

“Yeah.” Eddie admitted.

The older man grunted, a disapproving sound Eddie was all too familiar with, though he knew it was only because his uncle was worried.

“You better come on inside then. We’ll have some pancakes and you can tell me what you done now.”

Eddie sat at the small two seater kitchen table, the same one that had lived in the trailer's kitchen since he was a small boy, watching as Wayne gently stirred a hefty handful of chocolate chips into the bowl of prepared Bisquick mix and began cooking off pancakes one by one, A skillet of sausages sizzled on another burner.

“You want coffee?” Wayne asked.

“No, thanks. I think I've had enough. It’s not even perking me up anymore, it’s just making my skin vibrate.” Eddie said through a yawn, rubbing at his strained eyes.

The drive was catching up to him, the exhaustion seeping into his bones and he knew he’d have to lay down soon or his body would decide for him where a good place to take a nap would be.

Wayne didn’t say much as he finished cooking their meal, waiting until he’d plated it all up and sat down across from Eddie to finally ask the obvious question.

“So, what is it that’s made you drive all the way out here and leave Chrissy-girl and your beach paradise behind?”

“I’ve been… seeing someone.”

Wayne’s fork slipped from his grip and landed on his plate with a loud clatter, his mouth hanging open in utter shock for a moment before he snapped it shut. He looked down, clearing his throat as he casually picked the fork back up and cut into his stack of fluffy goodness as if it’d never happened.

“Oh?”

Eddie sighed, pushing his untouched plate away and resting his head on the old cracked formica. “I guess I should say was. I was seeing someone, but I'm pretty sure it’s over now.”

“How long was this going on?”

“Two weeks, give or take.”

Wayne let out a long whistle. “You must really like this boy.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

“Son, you’ve never so much as hinted at dating anyone before. So for you to go from that to a two week long relationship… and don’t think I didn’t notice how you haven't taken a single bite of those chocolate chip pancakes—-your favorite. He must be something special to have you this torn up.”

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed. “At least I thought he was.”

“What happened?”

“I found out he lied to me about something. So I freaked out and left.”

Wayne was quiet for long enough that Eddie had to lift his head to make sure the old man was still there. He was leaned back in his chair sipping his tea, plate of food now empty, watching Eddie with a thoughtful expression.

“What’d he lie about?”

“Does it matter?!” Eddie snapped, pounding his fist down on the table. “How am I ever supposed to believe him again? How do I know everything else he’s ever told me hasn’t been a lie too?”

“That’s a child’s question, Eddie. Life’s a little more complicated than that. Things aren't always as black and white as we’d like them to be, and not every lie is meant to hurt you.”

Eddie shook his head. “This is exactly why I don’t date, you can’t trust anyone.”

Wayne hummed noncommittally. “I think maybe you’d better tell me the whole story.”

Barring the gory details, i.e. his sex life, Eddie told his uncle the whole saga—from showing up at the motel to find a blast-from-the-past waiting in the lobby, to becoming involuntary roommates with the guy, ultimately finding out it’d all been a ruse, and everything in-between.

“So, you see? It was all just a setup. None of it was real.” Eddie said when it was all laid out.

Wayne tilted his head, setting his empty mug down on the table. “S’a little dramatic, don't you think?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

“And he’s from here, y’say?”

Eddie waved him off. “Yeah, but that doesn’t–”

“You gonna make me drag it out of you, boy? What’s his name?”

Eddie sighed. He was the injured party here, why was Wayne interrogating him.

“It’s Steve.”

“Wait, it’s not… the Harrington boy?!”

Eddie felt his face flush and knew his cheeks had to be bright red.

Wayne cackled, laughing so hard there were tears streaming from the corners of his eyes by the time he was through. “Christ, you’ve been ass over tits for him since you were fifteen years old!”

“I have not!”

“You used to come home talking about him all the time!”

“I was complaining about him,” Eddie grumbled, slumping down in his seat as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Because he was an asshole.”

“Someone takes up that much space in your head? S’not usually cause you don’t like ‘em.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Can we get back on topic please?”

“Sure.” Wayne agreed. “So, clearly the setup worked.”

“That’s not… well, yes, but—” Eddie sputtered. “Everything was fine, great even. We were happy. I opened up—I was fucking vulnerable, and then it turned out he knew it’d been a scheme. We were watching the front office for Chrissy and Robin last night, and I found some stuff proving most of the rooms were empty. I confronted him about it and he said he’d only just figured it out himself, but–”

“But you don’t believe him.”

“I- I don't know.” Eddie ran a hand through his messier than usual hair. “I want to believe him.”

Deep down, if he was truly honest with himself and searched his heart, Eddie knew Steve was telling the truth. All those times he’d kicked him out of his own bed for a hookup? If Steve had known there was another option, he’d have taken it. And if he’d done that they might never have…

“So what was his crime?” Wayne asked. “He found out after the two of you had already gotten together—and I gotta be honest it sounds like you put that boy through the fucking ringer to accomplish that miracle. You were happy, as you said yourself–”

“He should have told me.” Eddie cut him off, so sure in his conviction that he was right on at least this one point. “And Chrissy–”

“Seems to me those girls did you both a favor.”

Eddie glared.

Wayne stood, immune to the death stare his nephew was sending his way, still talking as he cleared the table and began to work on the sink full of dishes.

“It might not have been the right thing to do on paper, but their hearts were in the right place. Chrissy just wanted to see you happy, Ed, and she ain’t the only one. It’s kept me up at night, thinking about you out there in the world all by yourself. I don’t want to see you wasting your life wandering around, and winding up alone because you're scared.”

Eddie got up automatically to stand by his side with a clean dish towel, drying and putting away each piece as it was cleaned.

“How do I know it’s not going to turn bad, like Mom and Dad?”

“I suppose you don’t, but sometimes you just gotta take a leap of faith—with both feet. Do you think Steve is anything like your dad?”

“No.” Eddie answered without hesitation. “He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”

Snarky? Yes. Bitchy? Occasionally, but never ever mean.

“Well, there you go,” Wayne said, as if it were that simple. He paused for a moment, rinsing the last pan and handing it off, shaking the excess water from his fingers before he turned, facing Eddie head-on, leaning a hip against the counter.

“Look, it’s never a guarantee that you're gonna find someone in this life, and that’s okay too. Look at me, I've found my home and happiness in other ways, but you—you've kept yourself so closed off. It sounds like you have three people out there who really care about you, so what are you doin’ here?”

The more they talked the less sure Eddie was about the answer to that question.

“There’s something else too.” He found himself saying, because it wasn't only Steve who had hurt him. “Chrissy… she’s in trouble. The motel is failing. I found stacks and stacks of overdue bills, and she never said a word. Doesn’t she not know how much I love her? That I'd do anything I could to help her and Robin out?”

“Oh, Bubba.” Wayne said softly, drawing Eddie into a tight hug. “She knows, I promise you she knows.”

Eddie let himself sag in the other man’s arms for a minute. His throat was painfully tight, and it was an effort to blink back the tears that so badly wanted to fall from his eyes. He pulled back, running a hand over his face.

“I don’t understand why she wouldn't tell me.”

“That’s something you’ll have to talk to her about, but I think maybe she and Robin wanted to succeed on their own. Chrissy wants you to be proud of her, not see her as a failure.”

“Of course I'm proud of her.”

“Then that’s what you tell her, right after you apologize for snooping through her stuff.” Wayne gave him a hearty pat on the back, and a little nudge in the direction of his old room. “It’ll be alright.”

Eddie’s bedroom still looked exactly as it had since the day he left. He’d only taken what would easily fit in his van, his clothes, his guitar, a few books, and it always surprised him whenever he came for a visit that Wayne hadn’t boxed all the rest of his shit up and made better use of the space.

It wasn’t like he couldn't sleep on the couch when he dropped by. The trailer was small, too small to give up one of its only two bedrooms for someone who didn’t even live there, but Wayne always made sure he had a soft place to land when he needed it.

He hadn’t slept without Steve since the night they’d fallen into bed together, and it felt strange and wrong now to lie between the sheets by himself, even here in a place where Steve had never been.

Had he not been so thoroughly drained and worn-out he might have struggled to fall asleep without his human teddy bear to hold on to, but he was that tired, and though he missed Steve with a fierceness that made his chest ache, he dropped off almost the moment his head hit the pillow.

When Eddie woke hours later the room was bathed in late afternoon sun, the light shining in through threadbare curtains. It took a moment to remember where he was and why, and he was hit with a familiar wave of sadness—and something else. The same thing he’d been feeling for a while now, for the last year or more, as he roamed from place to place.

Homesickness.

He didn’t know when it had gone away exactly, but some time between arriving at the Buckingham and running away from it, he’d stopped longing for a place to call home, and started feeling like he was already there.

He had to go back. He had to make things right with Steve, and tell Chrissy how amazing she was no matter what happened with the business. Robin too—even though they tended to butt heads, he fucking loved her just as much as the other two.

He loved Steve.

Was in love with him. Full stop.

No almost. No falling. It was wonderful. It was terrifying.

And it was far too soon, not that Eddie had any basis to judge such a thing, but also maybe it wasn’t? Because goddamnit Wayne was right. He had been a little obsessed with Steve for more years than was probably healthy, and in some serious denial about why. His sudden crush this summer wasn’t sudden, or new. Lying there now in his childhood bed he could admit all of that to himself.

Now he just had to be brave and admit it to someone else.

He jumped out of bed and quickly changed into some of the clean clothes he’d brought, needing to get back to the motel as soon as possible. He’d have to apologize to his uncle for the hit and run, though he was sure the man would understand.

Speaking of the devil, Wayne was up for the day too—sitting at the kitchen table when Eddie rushed in, sipping coffee while he flicked through the newspaper.

Eddie dumped his bag in the other chair and began to rummage through the cabinets.

“Whatcha lookin’ for?” Wayne asked, not looking up from his sports section.

“That old travel thermos. Thought I'd take some coffee with me so I can get right on the road.”

Wayne set the paper down and got up with a grunt, quickly locating the exact thermos Eddie was looking for, which had been right in front of his face.

In his defense, he was in a rush.

Wayne chuckled, sitting back down as Eddie filled the cup. “What’s your hurry?”

Eddie screwed the lid on and set the thing down, freeing his hands to wind his disheveled curls into a bun as he explained.

“Just anxious to clean up the mess I made, Pops. I promised myself that I’d make it up to Steve for all the shit I put him through if he gave me a chance, and I've already broken that promise. He might have lied by keeping something from me but—I’m not perfect, and I can't expect him to be either. I shouldn’t have left, and I definitely should have given him the benefit of the doubt. We could've worked this out together.”

“Eddie, I think–”

“I love him, Wayne.” Eddie didn’t mean to interrupt, but he’d been bursting to say the words out loud since he thought them. “I don’t know exactly what I'm going to say to fix it, but I've got hours of driving time to think about it.”

Wayne smiled broadly, trying and failing to hide the gleeful expression behind his mug. “You might need to figure it out a little quicker than that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s here, Bubba.” Wayne said quietly, using the cup in his hand to gesture towards the living room.

Eddie whipped his head around and sure enough there Steve was, sitting quietly on the couch watching him with an unreadable expression. He gulped, stomach flipping as their eyes met.

Wayne clapped him on the shoulder as he moved past towards the hall. “I'll leave you boys to talk. It was nice to meet you, Steve.”

Steve stood, offering an awkward wave. “You too, sir.”

When Wayne was gone, Steve took a few tentative steps towards the kitchen.

Eddie met him halfway, smiling sadly. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve repeated back.

It was that first morning all over again. Tension palpable in the air between them.

“I'm sorry to just show up like this.” Steve blurted out, at the same time Eddie said, “So you heard all that, huh?”

They shared a nervous laugh.

Steve looked away, running a hand through his hair.

“What are you… how are you here?” Eddie stuttered out. “I mean, how did you know I’d be here?”

“With Wayne is where you feel the safest,” Steve shrugged. “And this is where you planned to go last time.”

Once again Steve had proven himself to be so far beyond anything Eddie thought he deserved. He was a flight risk. Steve could have made his life so much easier by just letting him go, it’s what most people would have done, but Steve had come after him—thought he was worth finding. How could he have ever considered running away from that?

Eddie took one more step forward, close enough to reach out and take hold of Steve’s hand.

“Do you want to go for a walk with me?”

There was a path that cut through the woods that sat on the edge of the trailer park. Eddie used to take it all the time as a kid when he was bored. It wasn’t a terribly long walk, just enough to get you lost in your thoughts before reaching Sattler’s quarry.

Eddie sat them down on a log a few feet from the cliff’s edge when they arrived, the irony not lost on him. It was a beautiful view, especially this close to sunset ,as the changing color of the sky was reflected in the dark water below. They hadn’t spoken on the way there, and Eddie took that time to enjoy the feel of Steve’s palm in his, so comfortable and familiar, and think about everything he wanted to say.

Birds chirped, clouds drifted by, and Eddie let the quiet settle around them for a few more minutes as he willed his racing heart to calm, taking a few deep breaths before he began.

“I have been so scared my entire life, and maybe I learned the lesson a little too intensely to guard my heart and make sure I didn’t wind up like the people around me—that was a good thing for a while, it kept me safe and sane but at a certain point it just left me… alone. It wasn’t just romance I avoided, I was too afraid to make any close connections. I had Chrissy and Wayne and that was enough. Two people with the ability to break me was about all I could handle.” Eddie smiled, letting out a wry huff of laughter. “But then you came along.”

He stared down at his feet, tracing patterns in the dirt with the heel of his boot.

“I’m sorry that I left. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. And I’m sorry that I hurt you again after begging you to give me a chance. I thought I was all in, but i guess I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Steve's hand found its way to Eddie's knee, stilling his leg which had started to shake up and down with his nerves. He covered Steve's hand with his own, and finally looked up to meet his eyes for the first time since they’d arrived.

“I’m sorry too,” Steve said, giving his knee a squeeze. “This isn’t all on you. You have every right to be upset. I should have told you as soon as I realized.”

“You were afraid I'd freak out, and you weren’t wrong.” Eddie admitted.

“Still.”

“Steve, I-I don’t know how to be anything else, but I know I don’t want to be who I’ve been.”

Eddie shook his head, sure that he wasn’t making any sense but he pressed on anyway. Steve had a special talent for deciphering even his most nonsensical ramblings. “I can’t be that guy anymore because he will keep running away—that version of myself won’t let me have this. I’m sure it will take time, and maybe it’s too late, but I want to learn a better way to be.”

“It's not too late,'' Steve murmured, turning his hand over where it rested beneath Eddie’s and lacing their fingers together. “You said you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I think… I think I was doing the same, and maybe I don’t show it the same way, but I’m scared too. I should have trusted you enough to tell you, and maybe it wouldn’t have come to all this.”

“So, what I'm hearing is, we could both do better.” Eddie grinned, releasing a breathy laugh. Which Steve returned as they both leaned in for a moment, brushing shoulders.

Eddie quieted, blowing out a long breath as he looked down at their joined hands, and felt so lucky. He was ready to let go of all the shit he’d allowed to hold him back for so long. He was ready to be happy.

“Did you mean it? What you said back there to your uncle about me?” Steve asked.

Eddie nodded, fighting the urge to hide his face or look away.

Steve bit his lip. “Will you say it again—to me?”

Eddie smiled, nearly choking as he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat—so overcome with it all, but in the best way—and found himself tearing up.

“I love you,” he said, voice cracking a little over the words he never thought he’d say to someone in quite this way.

Steve's answering smile lit his whole face up, his eyes beginning to glisten as well. He leaned in, ghosting his lips over Eddie’s as he replied.

“I love you too.”

Steve had barely finished the phrase before they crashed into each other, mouths working in desperate tandem, tongues sliding together like a well rehearsed dance. They kissed like they hadn’t seen each other in months instead of hours, as if any separation was unbearable. Eddie moaned, a high and wonton sound in his throat as Steve guided him over to straddle his lap.

It was risky to be like this out here in the open. Things might have been a little better on the coast for the gay community in recent years, but that acceptance hadn’t yet made its way to rural Indiana, and the wrong person could easily stumble upon them out here.

Though it went against every base instinct he had, Eddie forced them to slow down, breaking the kiss with an apologetic smile, one hand held gently against Steve’s chest to stop him from chasing after.

“It’s not safe out here, baby,” he said, sliding himself out of Steve's lap and adjusting himself in his pants. “We could be seen.”

Steve tried to pull him back down anyway. “I don’t care. You’re out, I could be out too. Let them see.”

Eddie groaned, the problem in his jeans getting worse by the second as Steve ran hands up and down his thighs. He wasn’t making it easy to be good.

“It’s dangerous,” Eddie said, cupping Steve’s cheek. “And I’d hate for our happy reunion to be disrupted by a hate crime.”

It was dusk when they finally left the quarry, and dark by the time they got back to the trailer. Steve's lack of sleep was starting to show, he’d only managed a few hours before giving up, getting in his car, and making the trip to Hawkins.

They had discussed going to stay at Steve’s house for the night where they could be alone, maybe finish what they started without having to worry about a parental figure being in the next room, but Steve insisted he’d rather stay and spend a little time getting to know Wayne while they were here.

Eddie knew he meant it, but he was sure it was for his own benefit too—so he could spend time with his uncle who he didn't visit nearly enough.

They’d be heading back to the Buckingham in the morning. Steve could get away with calling out for two days but he was due back on the beach for the 4th, as was Eddie at the bar. Independence Day was a big deal for the town, which went all out every year with a huge fireworks display over the ocean set off from a local fishing boat.

Wayne cooked up a half dozen burgers on the grill and the three men spent the evening sitting on the front porch shooting the shit and drinking beer until Steve couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

They said their goodnights and goodbyes before turning in, knowing Wayne would likely be asleep when they got up to go in the morning.

The full size bed in Eddie’s room was a tight squeeze for two full grown men, or it would have been if either of them had any sense of personal space, but they more than happily clung to each other.

Tired or not, it was inevitable that a few well-meaning goodnight kisses would turn into more, and soon they were feeding at each other’s mouths like starving men, until their lips were bitten red, swollen and sore. Eddie slid his hands up under Steve’s shirt, deeply resenting the amount of fabric between them. They didn’t usually bother with clothes at night but out of respect for Wayne, and in an effort to restrain themselves, they’d both worn pajamas to bed—to Eddie’s lament.

He slid his leg between Steve’s, swallowing back a moan at the feel of him long and hard against his thigh.

“Can I at least blow you?” Eddie whined.

Steve gasped, bucking his hips once in a desperate bid for friction before forcing himself to stop.

“Not with your uncle on the other side of this wall.”

Eddie licked a wet line up the column of Steve’s throat. “Come on, baby. You can be quiet.”

“I think you know by now that I can’t.” Steve sucked in another sharp breath as Eddie nibbled on his ear lobe. “It’s that fucking mouth of yours.”

“You love it.”

“I really do.”

Eddie pulled back, threading his hands through Steve's hair as he gazed down at him with a heart so full he could hardly breath. He was so in love, and by some miracle, despite his numerous fuck ups, the beautiful man in his arms loved him right back.

He pressed his lips to Steve’s forehead, brushed them over each cheek, and finally kissed his mouth one last time before turning over, to sleep pulling Steve's arms around himself. Steve tightened his grip, bringing their bodies impossibly closer as he buried his face in the back of Eddie’s neck with a contented sigh.

It wasn’t often Eddie played the little spoon to Steve’s big, but tonight he wanted to be held.

Chapter 10

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated and if you want to be tagged, just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Taglist: @manda-panda-monium @hellion-child @dreamwatch @brbsoulnomming @epiclazershark @estrellami-1 @lokfae @raisedbylibrarians @impala314 @meganwinchester @kacatshi @warlordess @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @garden-of-gay @meela86 @gregre369 @finntheehumaneater @pearynice

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #buckingham #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #90's beach motel au #no vacancy #no upside down au

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crazycurly-77 · 3 months ago

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A beautiful day - pt. 4

"...If you ever come near Agent Y/L/N in any way again…we will see each other again...and then you will wish you had never been born."

Gibbs' threat or promise, as he called it, was quiet but clearly audible and unmistakable.

And as much as this threat really frightened Adrian, it calmed you down, because you knew that your boss would do anything to protect his people (including you).

At that moment, Tony entered the room, went to the two men and tied up Turner. When Gibbs let go of him, he ordered Tony: "Get him out of my sight." He led him away and Adrian screamed your name over and over so that you had to cover your ears.

But the situation had also something positive, as unbelievable as it may sound. Because Gibbs took you in his arms and gently rubbed your back up and down soothingly. And that actually helped. As always, when he did that.

And as always, you leaned against his broad, strong chest and being embraced in his strong arms you wished he would never stop.

When you had recovered enough, he spoke gently: "Come on, let's write our reports, so we can get this over with. And then we’ll go out to eat together. What do you think?"

That was a wonderful suggestion...especially eating with him, which is why you agreed with a joyful "I'd be happy."

Back in the office, you both immediately sat down to write your reports. This gave Gibbs time to collect himself again as well. In the interrogation room, he was so angry out of fear for you that he wanted to tear the guy to pieces and it was only with difficulty that he was able to held himself back.

But he would personally make sure that Turner could never leave the mental institution again.

By the time you had finally finished your reports it was already late, so your planned meal became dinner. But you both preferred to end the day in each other's company anyway, so that was fine with the two of you.

Gibbs got up from his desk, put down his report and turned off the light. Then he went over to you, turned off your light too and said in a gentle voice and with his irresistible smile: "Time to finish work. Besides, I'm hungry."

How could you say no to that?

During dinner you talked about the case, because your former classmate's reasoning really bothered you. Along with that you asked yourself whether you could have prevented it. No, you wouldn't have. And over time Gibbs managed to make you understand that too.

After this serious topic he then brought the conversation to his boat, which he was building at the moment and immediately your mood became better and more relaxed. He told you about his mishaps, which you both had a good laugh about.

You enjoyed being together so much that neither of you wanted to end the evening. So Gibbs suggested a walk through the adjacent park and of course you agreed enthusiastically.

Like a true gentleman, he paid the bill in the restaurant and then led you out and to the park with his hand resting on your lower back. It felt so good and intimate, almost like a date.

After you had been strolling chatting through the greenery for a while, he suddenly became thoughtful and remained silent.

"What's wrong? You're suddenly so quiet," you asked him worriedly.

He looked at you with a sigh: "You know, it's kind of ironic..." You didn't understand what he meant and were confused: "What?"

"I'm like Turner, but I hope I have a much better chance with you."

You looked at him, irritated: "What are you talking about?"

He stopped under a lamppost, so that you could see that he was serious. You took two steps towards him to stand in the light with him and only half a step separated you.

Concerned, but also full of budding hope, you asked him: "What chances? For what?"

At first he didn't react, but then he raised his head, looked deep into your eyes and whispered: "For a life with you."

He didn't mean what you hoped he meant, did he? Rather unlikely. So you tried to play it down: "You already have. We are very good friends."

He exhaled briefly and sharply to calm his wildly racing heart. Then he tried to tell you as clearly as possible what exactly he wanted.

He reached up and stroked your cheek, then said softly, "Yes, that's true...but I want more than that."

Before you had a chance to process that, he slowly leaned forward and finally kissed you gently, giving you the opportunity to push him away. But he hoped to the core of his heart that you wouldn't do that.

You stood there and didn't understand what was happening, but your heart did and it was beating like crazy.

He pulled away from you and asked carefully: "Do you still remember my suggestion?"

You nodded in agreement.

"Good. And what do you think about it?"

It all came so unexpectedly that you had problems processing it:

"I... you..."

You started, but then you were at a loss for words.

He noticed that you needed help and explained:

"You have always been more than a friend to me and almost losing you (again) was too much.

That's why you were transferred, which you fortunately accepted."

"But... If you and I... What about rule 12?"

He grinned:

"You only act as an advisor and also help other teams and because of that you're not actually a direct team member. So…no problem!"

You looked at him in silence and nodded. “So, what do you say?”

He was nervous.

“Is Jethro really nervous? Crazy.”

You thought, astonished at this realization.

Then he continued:

“You. And me. A family? The two of us? Together?”

You still couldn't believe it. You and him. The two of you. A family.

You've dreamed of this since you first met.

When you finally woke up from your state of shock and looked into his hopeful eyes, you knew:

This is your home. HE is your home.

Quietly but firmly, you answered with a big smile:

“Yes, I do. And you know what? You're cute when you sleep,” you winked at him.

“So, am I? I think I should sleep more often. Especially in your company,” he grinned broadly and his eyes shone.

“Oh yes, he is a master at flirting,” you thought very amused. You were very curious and excited to see this happen more often in the future. Jethro playful, casual, relaxed and flirtatious. It was a very fascinating sight.

All in all, it was a beautiful day...because you finally had a family of your own to come home to.

The End

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

Here you will find the other chapters of this story.

Masterlist stories - Part 1

Masterlist stories - Part 2

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

Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27

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#ncis #jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs #gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #ncis fanfiction #ncis x reader #ncis reader insert #leroy jethro gibbs fanfiction #jethro gibbs fanfiction #gibbs fanfiction #jethro gibbs #mark harmon

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catmansquad · 1 year ago

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“Unstable” (4)

Right, let’s sign off this disaster caused by a crazed homewrecker with superpowers. Finale of Yandere!Miguel

‘But he was you!’ The argument had been on both their minds for the past two days. A puzzling sense of unmatching pieces that never gave any sense of resolution. Like an invisible wedge that was now stuck between them. ‘I’m not lying to you, Miguel. I didn’t spontaneously decide; “Oh, my husband’s not home, let me just grab a handsome guy off the street to get into bed with for a few days”!’ You watched Miguel’s eyes go wide, his injuries were slow to mend, but at least he looked more like himself than the haggard wraith who had all but collapsed into your arms. ‘… He’s been in our bed, too?!’ ‘I’m not lying! I’m not cheating on you! He was you, Miguel! Literally you! Same hair, same face, same voice!’ ‘I… I don’t need this… I really don’t…. I get kidnapped by a fuckin’ masked maniac, have all by belongings stolen, and spend nearly a week trying to get back home. I had to live like a beggar! Pleading with people for food and money, anything I could to get back home! When I finally do get back, I find my beloved wasn’t even looking for me! Wasn’t even worried- because they’ve got it into their head that I was never missing at all!’

‘Miguel, where are you going?!’ ‘Out! To clear my head!’ ‘Miguel!’ The holographic screen was fixed firmly upon the two of you. The room was filled even more destruction than before, more shattered screens and consoles, half-built machinery that had been scrapped, covered in deep gouges and crushed metal. Calm from his fury, Miguel paced back and forth with arms folded, keeping his eyes firmly on the screen, once again peering into your world from his own. Despite his passing fury, his anger still rolled inside him. It had just been far too good to be true; you were his, he had in his arms every night, he had kept you safe and comforted, both as himself and his alter-ego. Now that pathetic, weak, other version of him had just stepped back into your life- and he was causing you anguish and distress. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, feeling another bout of fury rising inside him. ‘Lyla…’ His eyes remained firmly on the holographic screen, teeth gritted, watching you perch on the sofa, seeming despondent. ‘What’s up? You’re looking a little tense.’ ‘I want you to keep a tracker on this other me. As soon as you see an opening, let me know.’ ‘He’s out of the house now.’ ‘No. Too soon. They need time to heal…. Time to let suspicions rest- shock it!’ He grabbed whatever was close to hand, a half-built bracelet and hurled it across the room with a snarl to shatter at the far wall. ‘He shouldn’t have come back! He should have stayed away!! We would have been happy together…. We… still can be happy together…’ His gaze returned once again to the screen, watching you in your forlorn state, a hand reaching out, as if he wished to stroke your cheek, to offer comfort. ‘… I’m right here, mi amor… I’ll be back, I promise… We’ll never be apart. Not ever again.’

‘They said I resigned.’ You looked up from your food, Miguel’s plate remained untouched, his eyes firmly on his phone, you watched his mood spiral further into anger and despair. ‘You told me that you were on vacation, Mig.’ Your saw his hand tense around his phone, the casing creaking in his grasp, a vein throbbing in his forehead out of irritation. ‘They said that I came in not long after I left and resigned “with immediate effect”… How?! I was halfway across the city being beaten black and blue! By the same guy you said saved your life! What the fuck is happening here?’ You watched Miguel place his phone aside and bury his face into his hands with a low groan of frustration. ‘My partner’s convinced I never left, I’ve been kidnapped, threatened, beaten, and now been left unemployed… How could I possibly be in two places at once? How…? What am I going to do now…?’ You reached across the table, hand resting palm up and fingers beckoning softly until he reached out to take your hand, his eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. He looked like a broken man, and you felt nothing but love and pity for the man. Even as the reasons that had led to it all made no sense whatsoever. You truly believed in Miguel’s story, yet at the same time, you knew you hadn’t imagined that your husband had also been with you for his supposed absence. Miguel squeezed your hand for reassurance, and you returned the gesture. ‘We’re going to be alright, Mig… I promise. We’ll be alright.’

Miguel had tried everything, his very best to get his career back, but to no effect. Apparently, his supposed resignation had been so sharp and intimidating that it had been accepted without hesitation. Three nights later, you were cuddled up in bed together, wrapped in the blankets. His embrace was not one of security, but one of desperate comfort, clinging to you like he was afraid you would abandon him, if he let go. Your eyes fluttered open, glancing around the dark room. What had woken you up just now? You listened; the sound of traffic in the distance, the soft breathing of your husband as he slept beside you, skinnier than he had been several days ago. Certainly, something didn’t sit right about a man who could gain and shed muscle mass in a short time. You sat up with a soft gasp, there it was again, the sound that had woken you. ‘… Miguel… Miguel…’ ‘Mm… Whasit…?’ He murmured, still half asleep, eyes barely open. ‘I... I think there’s someone outside…’ ‘Hm... ‘s probably just a fox scouring through the trash… Go back to sleep…’ ‘Foxes don’t try door handles…!’ Your voice was a conspiratorial hiss and you watched him sit up with a groan, rubbing his eyes. You both sat, ears strained against the silence, not even a whisper pierced through the quiet. ‘See? Just foxes, mi vida… Nothing to worry abou-‘ Miguel’s attempt at soothing was interrupted by a mighty crash from your garden and you watched your husband nearly leap out of his skin in fright. ‘What the fuck was that?!’ He threw back the bedsheets, grabbing his clothing from the creased pile and pulling it on scowling under his breath. ‘I swear, if it’s not one thing, it’s another… I just can’t catch a break…’ ‘Miguel, do you-?’ ‘Stay here, I’ll be right back…’

He had unlocked the back door, clutching a torch in hand, stepping outside, he shivered at the bitter chill of the night and cast the beam over the garden, nothing moved in the interplay of light and shadow. He stepped out, searching and finding the source of the crash from where the recycling bin was lying far away from where it should be, cracked and dented, like it had been thrown with considerable force, with bits of would-be recycling spilling out. ‘How the hell did this happen…?’ He shivered again, not just at the chill of night, but of feeling eyes on the back of his neck. He spun around, scouring through the darkness with the beam of light. Nothing revealed itself. ‘… I thought I’d made myself clear, pendejo…’ He went tense, fear racing through his heart at that familiar growl of a voice, again right behind him. ‘I told you to stay away. You didn’t listen. That’s very unfortunate, for you…’ Miguel steeled his nerve and turned slowly, eyes wide and breath caught in his throat, his mind tried and failed to process just what he was seeing; his own doppelganger stared back at him, eyes blazing red and furious with intent, teeth bared in a snarl with sharp fangs. ‘… W-what the fuck…?’ ‘All you had to do was stay AWAY!’ His other self punched him with the force of a truck and Miguel felt the world spin, tumbling through the air to land winded on the grass, torch clattering to the grass beside him, beam flickering. He glanced around, unable to see through the gloom, unsure of where his doppelganger was. He crawled forwards, closer to the torch, if he could just escape, he could get inside, barricade the door and stay safe with you until… Until what? Until the police came, from a call that he was being threatened by himself?! You were on his mind, protecting you was what mattered. His fingers brushed against the torch, he felt something tie itself around his ankle, and you were on his mind still as he was dragged back, screaming, into the darkness.

You had hurried downstairs, phone in hand, calming when you found the back door already locked once again, your husband by the sink, washing his hands. ‘Miguel…? Are you alright?’ He looked to you with an expression that you couldn’t quite place, but the sheer intensity behind it gave you pause, then it evaporated into a calm, loving smile. ‘Hey… I’m fine. Just foxes knocked over the recycling bin.’ ‘B… But I thought I heard… I heard you scream.’ He laughed softly, nodding. ‘Ay, stubbed my toe on the step hard, coming back in… Shockin’ stung, ow…’ His smile faded as you continued to stare at him. ‘I’m fine, mi vida… Go back to sleep. I’ll be up soon.’ You silently agreed with him and turned away, grateful that nothing else was wrong. In the dim light, you missed the swirls of water, stained crimson, running down the drain, of Miguel scrubbing clawed fingers clean. He had no such issue seeing in the dark; crimson eyes watching you leave with a relieved smirk. He focused on keeping his claws retracted, drying his hands, and then returned back upstairs to where you were already half asleep. There would be no further interruptions.

You awoke warm and safe, cuddled close in strong arms that maintained an almost possessive hold on you as you tried to squirm out of them. ‘Mm… Jus’ five more minutes, mi corazón…’ His voice purred, pulling you closer against him. You sighed and agreed with him, snuggling closer into his chest. ‘Hey, you’re buff again, Miggy…’ You noticed, hearing him chuckle in response. He was so very warm. ‘… My love, you talk as if I’m not always this fit.’ ‘You were skinny last night…’ ‘You’re getting mixed up with your dreams again, mi amor… Shh, just lay here with me… Just like this…’ He hummed softly, nuzzling into hair, one leg moving to wrap around you, pinning you even closer against his body. You were trapped in his embrace and could do nothing but lay there until he finally released you. Not a bad place to be, all in all. Soon, it would all fall apart.

All day, Miguel had been not more than a few feet from you. Showering together, cooking together, and even sat down, he did not let your body touch the sofa, you were in his lap, hugged close. ‘What did I ever do to be blessed with you…?’ He murmured, placing sweet kisses on your neck. Already your skin was covered in the lovebites he had left, and he did not seem content to stop any time soon. You squirmed in his arms, what had once been devoted and delightful was starting to raise other feelings in you now, feelings of concern and worry that were compiling with other issues your logical mind had logged. ‘… Are you alright, Mig?’ ‘I’m absolutely fine…’ He purred, hands ghosting down your body to rest at your hips. ‘…. Well, the other night you were a wreck.’ ‘I’m fine… I just want to enjoy my vacation with you…’ The gears of your logical mind clicked and spun together at the contradiction that had just left his lips. ‘Vacation? Mig you told me that you’d resigned- or that someone had said you’d resigned. You were an absolute mess because you couldn’t get your job back and now…’ You felt him freeze, lips on your neck, hands firm on your hips. He didn’t resist as you slipped free and rose to looked at him as his posture relaxed, eyes looking into your own. ‘I.. I just don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense; how I can be enjoying life with you, and then you suddenly appear on my doorstep claiming you’ve been kidnapped, and then you just suddenly snap right back like nothing’s wrong…’ ‘Mi amor, don’t be like this… Just come here…’ ‘A-Am I going crazy, Mig?... A-are you?’ You watched him freeze up again, eyes narrowing a fraction and he rose quietly from where he sat, and it was a grim, sudden reminder of how much he towered over you in height and mass. ‘…. C-crazy?’ He spoke in a soft breath, hands curling tight. ‘You think I’m crazy…?’ ‘N-no! No, I just want to understand-‘ He growled, literally growled in his throat, teeth gritted, and you were scared by the sight of his long, sharp canines. ‘… You’re thinking it too, aren’t you? Hm? Go on. Say it! Crazy. Mad! UNSTABLE!!!’ You watched in horror as he grabbed the sofa, clawed fingers ripping into the fabric as he hurled it across the room with a yell. He turned to you, chest heaving, eyes blazing red, and the horror on your face seemed to snap him from his rage and pinched the bridge of his nose with a long exhale. ‘I’m... Not angry with you. I could never be angry with you… I love you, so much, mi amor, mi vida… Just come here…’ ‘Miguel-‘ ‘Just come here!!’ He demanded, temper rising again, arms open for you. Whatever you said next was cut off by the distant, terrified screaming of your neighbour. Miguel’s head tilted as he listened, eyes firmly on you. ‘…. I think they just found that mangled mess I made of the weak, pathetic man you married… That’s alright, you don’t need him anymore. You have me now…’

In the rush of adrenaline and panic, you weren’t sure exactly how you escaped, from him, from your home. Now, you were several streets away, trying to lose yourself in the city, and thoroughly convinced that he was not following you. You had called for help, all of your friends, and all of them had refused to answer in turn. All of them refused your call, some had even blocked your number. Your husband wasn’t your husband, the man who wasn’t him had killed your husband and now he was after you. To do what? Did he plan to kill you, too?! You needed help, you needed someone who could keep you safe. You flattened yourself into the dimness of a dark alley, peeking out just to double-check that the imposter was absolutely not following. You almost had a heart attack from the sheer fear and shock of the scrape of brick and you watched the answer to your prayers slide down the wall. Spider-man was here. ‘You look like you’re scared out of your mind, someone troubling you?’ ‘Oh… Oh, please… Please help me!’ You all but threw yourself against his chest, trembling and watching him briefly flinch at your openness before a comforting hand patted your back. ‘Heh. Helping is what I do, what’s the matter now…?’ ‘M-my husband who isn’t my husband murdered my husband and now he’s coming for me, please… Spider-man, please help me…’ He hushed you softly, taking one of your hands in his own with a reassuring squeeze. ‘Of course. Of course, I’ll help. Don’t worry, you’re safe with me… You always will be…’ You didn’t notice until the sharp click that he had fastened a simple black bracelet tight against your left wrist. ‘W-what is…?’ His strong arms brought you tightly against him, one hand rubbing small circles on your back as he hushed you softly again. ‘Shh… It’s going to be alright…Te amo… Te amo, mi amor, mi vida…’ The shaky breath filled your lungs as the horror of realization settled. ‘… Oh god…’ ‘I love you... I love you, so much, it hurts…’ ‘… O-oh god…’ ‘But I really don’t think you’ll be safe here anymore… It’s gotten too messy. Too many questions to be asked by the wrong people…’ Your revelations were confirmed as the mask pixelated and fell away into glittering lights, red eyes met your own briefly, before he leaned in to kiss your neck, once, twice, then you felt the stabbing of sharp fangs, the burn accompanied by something else that left your body leaden and unresponsive. ‘There you go… There you go… Shh… It’s going to be alright. It’s going to be absolutely fine. We’re going to go somewhere safe, where we can be together, where we can be undisturbed. I can take care of you there, and you’ll come to realise that you love me just as much as I love you.’ The world behind him collapsed and fractured into a gate of swirling lights, offering brief glimpses of another place altogether. ‘… We’ll have our whole lives together…’ He bundled you in his arms, kissed your forehead gently, and carried you through.

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So, there we are. Unstable. I do enjoy writing some darker takes on Miggy, only so I can then go to Looking Glass and counterbalance it with him being an absolute ball of wholesome, healthy love and fluff for being absolutely head over heels with his LI (See: Excerpt “Doughnuts” for example). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading about getting kidnapped by a crazy man from another world who developed an unhealthy obsession with you and couldn’t grasp why killing and replacing your husband with a buffer, better version of himself wasn’t something you were too keen on...

If memory serves me @oscarissac2099 wanted to be tagged, too. So, there’s that.

#spider-man: across the spider-verse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #yandere miguel o'hara

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phoenixtakaramono · 8 months ago

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OPERATION BABYLON - PART VI

aka the butchlander sugar baby AU.

We have the first reader interactive poll for this threadfic! I recommend reading the update to the end (with a detailed breakdown of each choice) before making your decision.

Tumblr Navigation (note I have not shared the prologue here with its premise setup; I’ve only started sharing this twitter threadfic on tumblr starting from the 2nd 🔞 scene): I | II | III | IV | V | VI

Update Schedule: weekly/ biweekly

(You can read the rest of the threadfic update here!)

Keep in mind, all of my AU Butchlander threadfics on Twitter are the unpolished first draft versions of what’ll eventually be polished up into long fics on AO3 under the Shock and Awe series. So you may regard this threadfic as an experimental first prototype and exclusive preview whose contents may or may not be changed in the future final draft version. We’re just loosely playing around with ideas and concepts for now!

If you don’t have a Twitter account, screenshots are provided below the line break so you can read this update on Tumblr as well:

A more-in-depth breakdown of the choices:

A) Tell the truth. To avoid suspicion, Billy lays low and comes up with an excuse that he's booked for the whole day plays hard to get. It'll lead to Homelander running into "William out on a date" with another Supe—and a jealous Homelander running interference lol and sabotaging it, potentially leading to a "private tour" at The Seven meeting room and some 🔞 inappropriate office s*x ;) the setting depends if I decide to have it as a Vought HQ gala event or a Capes for Christ baptism

The payoff: a lead into the investigation The con: Billy's relationship with one of his long-time regulars is irreversibly damaged (it'll come bite him in the arse much later in the threadfic)

B) Homelander wants to be his sugar daddy. So Billy wants to test that and see if he can get our caped crusader to unknowingly fund his little CIA operation by exaggerating his rent and monthly overhead costs to tug at the hero's supposed generous philanthropist heartstrings. It'll lead to the sugar baby/daddy relationship being developed more aka a lil à la Pretty Woman-styled "shopping spree" with Homelander raining gifts on Billy's head say bye bye to Billy's CIA-assigned base, potentially leading to a 🔞 scene for "William to show him his gratitude"

The payoff: a bigger base and money for a more in-depth investigation The con: Homelander will lowkey stalk monitor him, so it'll be harder to keep his covert activities a secret from him or sneak out

C) The cute "Waiting for you :)" type of option. Billy doubles down on the act and reforms himself into Homelander's dream lover. It's tooth-rotting romantic fluff and flirty back-and-forth banter between them, but keep in mind what'll happen when Homelander inevitably realizes the "William who's literally almost perfect in every way and is too good to be true" isn't actually real much much much later as a direct consequence of this early choice.

The payoff: a happy Homelander (speedrun gaining his trust and affection by taking our bbg on dates <3) The con: the future fallout (and reconciliation) will be much more dramatic

Choose your poison! You can also vote on Twitter (link to the poll). I will add the final results together, and we’ll see which story route comes out on top.

A/N: A bit of Billy’s POV as we begin to pull back the curtains. How deep does this rabbithole of deception go? Far. Very far. Did y'all see the twist with Popclaw? Didn't expect that, did ya?

I am, by the way, open to ⚠️🔞 reader suggestions~. I make no promises that I’ll write it, but this threadfic is meant as a shameless excuse to write 🔞 butchlander spice, haha, and provide y’all some content during our butchlander drought. I have one reader suggestion thus far, and it involves candle wax. 🕯️

#butchlander #billy butcher #homelander #billy butcher x homelander #the boys tv #the boys #sugar baby au threadfic #haha yea I did twt awhile back that whilst this was mostly sm*tty & writing mindless self indulgence #the writer part of me is fighting my lizard hindbrain & injecting ‘plot’#so we’ll compromise and experiment with this first (I might change a few things from the 🧵fic when it’s converted to AO3)#tysm Moonz for helping me decide the title (the puns! and the callback! it's meant to be!)

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mstarcreates · 2 months ago

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A/N: make sure you scroll all the way to the bottom for a special treat! Happy Festival of the Lost Guardians!

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Special: Festival of the Lost

Cayde looked around as he waited by the ramen bar, tapping his finger against the handle of his holstered weapon. He sighed a little and leaned back against the bar. Night had already fallen over the Tower and there were a ton of Guardians filtering through the place, all of them donning various face masks.

Many were of himself, which he found particularly amusing. But there were others too; the Witness, Riven, Master Rahool and even the Colonel. By far his favorite was the one he currently had stowed in his back pocket.

The Tower has also been fully decorated for the event, there were lanterns strewn across every conceivable corner, candles littered about burning soft flames and bright orange flowers that pulsed when he got near them. It was truly a sight. However, the guy he’d planned to share it with was nowhere to be seen and he was starting to get a little antsy.

He was sure Crow was just running a bit behind, taking Cayde’s place as Hunter Vanguard hadn’t exactly been a cakewalk. Still, it wasn’t like Crow to be late without letting him know.

What if something happened? The thought slithered in and it was enough to get Cayde pacing, his hands going from his waist to being crossed and then back to his waist again. Like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

Then he heard familiar footsteps. He’d know those boots from anywhere. Cayde turned quickly toward the source of the sound, his cardiac drive all but stopping in his chest. Crow was surrounded by several Guardians—mostly Hunters—all vying for an autograph on their masks. True to his nature, Crow smiled and signed as many as he could.

Cayde’s chest immediately ached at the sight. Here was this guy who used to be the universe’s biggest jerk; a Prince, a murderer, and an outcast now having finally come into his own. He was confident, sure of himself and the path he’d chosen, wearing his Hunter Vanguard cloak with pride. Man, had he earned it, Cayde smiled at the thought.

Something about seeing Crow like this, well it just never got old. Finally, Crow managed to wiggle away from the gaggle of Hunters, to catch up with him.

“What are you grinning about?” Crow asked him in lieu of a greeting.

“You,” Cayde answered without any hesitation.

“Me?”

“Yeah, look at you. Signing autographs and mingling with Guardians. Just got me thinking how funny fate is sometimes.”

“Sure, fate’s a riot. I’ll put that in an inspirational postcard.”

“It brought us together didn’t it?”

“I suppose there’s that one very specific thing.”

“Oh!” Cayde snapped his fingers. “I know, you could add it to the obnoxious collection of sticky notes you’ve got. Seriously, who the hell puts them on the screen?”

“You’re just hurt because I took down the one you stuck on.” Crow chuckled softly as he settled in next to Cayde.

“It was art!”

“It was a drawing of me dressed as a chili pepper.”

“As inspiration for this evening,” Cayde gestured outwardly to indicate that he meant the festivities currently happening.

Crow shook his head, a small laugh leaving him. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand you, Cayde.”

“Probably best to stop while you’re ahead and just…run with it.” Cayde grinned wide again, finally taking the mask he’d purchased from Eva out of his pocket. He quickly pulled it on.

“Oh not you too,” Crow groaned instantly at the sight of his own face. Well, Uldren Sov’s face to be more exact. “Do you have any idea how many Guardians have been popping up to taunt me with that thing? That's why I was late.”

Cayde ignored him and proceeded to do his best impression of Uldren. “Oh look at me! I’m Uldren Sov, the broody Awoken Prince! I like to listen to sad music and write lengthy poems in the dark about how no one understands me.”

“Alright, you want to go there? We’ll go there.” Crow pulled a mask from his own inventory and donned it quickly. Soon Cayde was staring back at himself. He chuckled a little at that. “I’m Cayde-6, I never take anything seriously, including my own death. I like to play pranks on everyone, especially my Hunter Vanguard boyfriend—despite the fact that he outranks me.”

Cayde put a hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. “Pulling the Vanguard title card on me already, Crow? And here I thought we had somethin’ special.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before teasing me.”

“Alright, well I’ve had just about enough of this,”Cayde pulled his mask off and then grabbed Crow by the front of his cloak, tugging him closer. Then he took Crow’s mask by the edge and pushed it upwards to reveal his face. “I know exactly how to shut you up.”

Crow quirked a playful eyebrow, but Cayde could see a flush already starting to form. “You’re going to kiss me? Out here in the bazaar? Bold.”

“Bold is my middle name.” Then he leaned up and pressed his lips against Crow’s.

#destiny the game #destiny fanfiction #drabble #festival of the lost #caydexcrow #cayde 6 #destiny crow #caydeposting #cayde 6 destiny #destiny fanart

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foxykatie425 · 1 year ago

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No one asked, but here are my hopes for a third and final Jedi game…

Things I want:

• A reason for the characters not to be involved in the OT. My prediction is that Cal will be forced to destroy the compass to keep the colony on Tanalorr safe from the Empire, leaving them stranded with no way out of the Abyss, but having a small but thriving settlement with everything they need to survive. And then some day, after the Empire falls, some other Jedi (whether it be Luke, Ahsoka, Ezra, whoever!) will have to go on a mission to reach them and reconnect them with the galaxy.

• Kata training with the Force. Most likely she’ll be trained by Cal as a Jedi, but there’s a chance Merrin could also be teaching her some Nightsister magick. I’m looking forward to Kata being a fully fleshed out character.

• Declarations of love. I guess technically we got a little of that in Survivor, but both of them have yet to actually use the L-word! And I think we’d all scream at an “I love you” “I know” moment!

Things I don’t want:

• A Merrical baby. As much as it would make my shipper heart happy, there are two reasons I don’t want this. Firstly, introducing another kid would take the attention (and by that I mean the audience’s attention) away from Kata, who has yet to really have her time to shine. And secondly, it would probably contribute to the next thing in this list I don’t want…

• Threats on his family pushing Cal to the dark side. At least in a super blatant way. I’m fine with Cal struggling with the dark side, and given the way Survivor ended I’d say it’s almost necessary. (Although, I can’t see him falling completely, that would not be a very satisfying ending to his arc.) What I don’t want is Cal dabbling in the darkness in the name of protecting his family. First of all, let’s not prove the Jedi Order right! Second of all, we’ve had that story in Star Wars before! More than once! Of course, that was one of the big reasons for Anakin’s fall, but we even had that in Survivor with Bode! And while comparisons between Cal and Bode might seem poetic, they would be a lot more poetic if Bode was still alive. Obviously everything that happened still affects Cal, but from a storytelling perspective, you can’t really expect the audience to draw parallels between two characters if one never appears on screen. Case in point: Cal and Trilla shared a lot of interesting parallels in Fallen Order, but Trilla is only mentioned in Survivor once, and it’s in passing. But if Cal started doing unscrupulous things to protect his family, he would very quickly be reminded of Bode and stop himself from making the same mistakes. (Besides, lest we forget, Merrin doesn’t need protecting!)

• Cal dying. (And not just because I want him and Merrin to have the first true happily ever after in Star Wars.) It’s always the looming threat in anything set before the OT, especially with Jedi. I mean, never mind Yoda’s declaration to Luke in ROTJ that “the last of the Jedi will you be” because that’s already been proven false in pretty much every way; I’m fine with assuming that, believe it or not, Yoda may not have known everything! However, Cal has made himself a pretty high-profile Jedi in the eyes of the Empire, and one would logically assume that if he was around during the OT, Luke would have sought him out. Thus we once again run into the question of “doomed prequelitis.” Rogue One played this trope completely straight. Rebels mostly did not, but notably the two major Jedi characters were both removed from the equation. One in the form of death, and the other in the form of semi-voluntary intergalactic exile! (Of course there’s the loose thread that is Ahsoka, but there are lots of plausible ways to keep her out of the OT, so we’ll save that discussion for another day.) My point is the status quo that is established at the end of Survivor would not keep Cal and company off of Luke’s radar. They are still involved with the Hidden Path, which presumably would have ties with the larger Rebellion, and they would surely keep doing that as long as they are able. However, killing off Cal would be the easy way out in terms of storytelling. Even if his death was some kind of heroic sacrifice, it would once again be a story we have already seen many times in Star Wars. It would be lazy, repetitive writing, and with the time capsule that is Tanalorr, it does not need to be that way. All we need is a reason that they can’t leave Tanalorr and a reason no one can go in after them. Hence why I think the last compass will be destroyed!

Obviously these are just some overarching ideas for what I think the third game should look like and have little to do with gameplay or any kind of specific plot. I’ll leave that to Respawn! 😉

#jedi fallen order #jedi survivor #cal kestis #nightsister merrin #merrin #merrical #bd 1 #greez dritus #kata akuna #tanalorr

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rainbowfey · 3 months ago

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12 "This is spooky." - "Really?"

@flufftober

The big sign loomed over him menacingly and Tanjirou felt a shiver run down his spine. The red blinking letters seemed to follow him like bloodshot eyes when he hesitantly walked closer, diving into the shadow of the enormous building. Had he not agreed to meet Muichiro here, he would have turned away and walked off right now. Something about the atmosphere of this place felt eerie and he would rather not find out how bad it would get when they went inside. However, he would rather cut his arm off than to stand Muichiro up and thus, he straightened his shoulders and headed towards the entrance.

When he finally got there, Muichiro was already waiting for him. He leaned against a wall, looking at the black roses that lined the fence surrounding the mansion and its majestic garden. Tanjirou’s heart jumped when he walked towards Muichiro, a happy smile forming on his face. When he had almost reached him, Muichiro looked up and his face lit up.

“Tanjirou!” he said and pushed himself off the wall to approach him. “I’ve got our tickets already.”

Tanjirou’s heart sank and he nodded, putting on a brave face. If he could not backtrack, his new mission was to not show any sign of fear in front of Muichiro. Instead, he pulled the surprised Muichiro into a hug and he instantly felt calmer when, after a moment of stunned stiffness, Muichiro wrapped his arms around him.

“It’s good to see you,” Tanjirou said when he finally let go of Muichiro and a swarm of butterflies started fluttering in his stomach when he saw the soft blush on Muichiro’s cheeks. They had not seen each other since the harvest festival a few days ago and suddenly, Tanjirou was glad that Muichiro had asked him if he wanted to go to this place together even though he still felt slightly unsettled by the whole area.

“Have you ever been to a haunted house before?” Muichiro asked curiously when they started walking towards the leaf door that marked the entrance to the building. Tanjirou took a moment to process his question as he stared at the red letters smeared over the door that said ‘Get out’.

“Uh,” he said and quickly turned his attention back to Muichiro. “No, I haven’t. I don’t think we even have those where Nezuko and I grew up.”

Muichiro nodded and said, “My brother and I have been to one a few years ago. Yuichiro didn’t like it though, so we never went again.”

Tanjirou paused for a moment. He had met Yuichiro for the first time at the harvest festival and while he had not gotten to know him well yet, he could not imagine Yuichiro being easily intimidated. Perhaps he just had not liked the idea of a haunted house itself, Tanjirou thought to himself and silently, he agreed with Yuichiro on that. Demons were one thing but a whole house full of ghosts and monsters sounded like a nightmare come true.

Almost without noticing, he moved a bit closer to Muichiro when they reached the leaf door that opened as if by magic, revealing the dark, gaping maw of the building.

“You may enter,” a hoarse voice floated through the air but when Tanjirou looked out for its owner, he could not see anyone. A shiver ran down his spine and it took him a bit of effort to follow Muichiro into the haunted house.

When they had passed through the door, it fell shut behind them. The loud thud almost made Tanjirou jump and when Muichiro turned around to him, he quickly put on an unfazed expression though he was not sure how much of his face Muichiro could see in the dim twilight of the entrance hall. “So, what do we do now?” he asked, trying to sound calmer than he was.

Muichiro thought about it for a moment before he said, “I think the tickets said something about having to find the exit. I suppose we’ll have to make our way through the mansion to find it.”

Tanjirou swallowed and glanced back at the door behind him. “We can’t just take that door?”

Muichiro chuckled and shook his head. “That would kind of defeat the purpose, don’t you think?”

And since he could not come up with a good answer, Tanjirou put on a brave face and nodded. He slowly followed Muichiro as he walked across the hall and towards the stairs leading upwards. While walking, Tanjirou eyed his surroundings. Most of the hall was veiled in impenetrable darkness and two rows of thin, tall candles lined the path from the leaf door to the broad staircase. When he looked at one candle more closely, he noticed that it had a dark red color, making the thin lines of wax running down the candle look like bloody tears. He shuddered and quickly looked away, fixing his gaze on the staircase and the intricate patterns along its railing instead. But when they came closer, he scrunched up his nose when he realized that the silvern decorations were not beautifully crafted art but rather a mass of silky spider webs.

“Bleh,” he muttered and quickly put on a smile when Muichiro turned around again, looking at him curiously. “Uh, seems like they have a spider problem here.”

Muichiro followed his gaze and looked more closely at the spider webs, his face lighting up. “Those are beautiful,” he said and Tanjirou had to forcefully keep his mouth shut before he could vehemently disagree.

Together, they walked up the stairs and Tanjirou gave his best to stay in the middle, keeping his distance from the spider webs on both sides of the stairs. At least, so far nothing had jumped at him from the darkness which was more than he had expected. With a sigh of relief, he leaned against one of the thin black columns at the top of the stairs – and froze when he noticed that the column was covered in hairs. And when it suddenly started moving, he jumped back with a loud, “Eugh!”

Muichiro turned around just in time to see the gigantic spider that now lowered its body down to them. “Run,” he shouted and when Tanjirou did not move, staring at the spider frozen in place, Muichiro grabbed his hand and pulled him through a gap between the spider’s legs.

Together, they ran towards the closest door and Muichiro quickly slammed it shut behind them, barely making it before the spider had reached them. For a moment, they both stared at the door, panting. Something hard hit the door twice before the house fell eerily quiet again. Tanjirou turned to Muichiro, expecting to see his own horror mirrored on his face – but Muichiro grinned at him and said, “That was fun!”

And for the first time in a while, Tanjirou asked himself whether Muichiro had an entirely different understanding of fun than him. With a sigh, he turned back to the room and shuddered when he saw the dozens of mirrors hanging on the wall, all of them reflecting their pale faces back to them, contorting them to terrifying grimaces. He wrapped his arms around his body uncomfortably while he followed Muichiro through the room, glancing at the mirrors every now and then. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when he occasionally caught glimpses of eyes following him from the mirrors where there should only have been reflections of the backs of their heads. He nervously moved closer to Muichiro and tried to ignore the malicious grin a reflection to his left bared.

“Can you see the next door yet?” he asked urgently and Muichiro tilted his head, looking back at him.

“Yeah, I think it’s over there,” he said and pointed towards a narrow passage, both walls lined with mirrors that reached from the floor to the ceiling, so close to each other that they would have to squeeze through.

Tanjirou shuddered and he had to force himself to follow Muichiro towards the passage. He hunched up his shoulders and tried to blank out the mirrors closing in on him. But suddenly, a hand shot out of a mirror and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the mirror.

Tanjirou screamed and Muichiro whirled around. He did not hesitate for a second before grabbing Tanjirou’s other arm and pulling him through the narrow passage. Meanwhile, Tanjirou flailed around with his other arm, trying to free himself from the icy cold grip. He yelped when nails dug into his skin and with a burst of energy, he finally ripped his wrist from the pale hand’s grip.

Almost stumbling over each other, they scrambled into the next room, shutting the door behind them. Tanjirou was panting and he pulled up his sleeve, studying the claw marks on his arm. They did hurt but when Muichiro looked at him slightly concerned, he quickly hid the marks under his sleeve again before Muichiro could see them.

“Everything okay?” Muichiro asked softly and for a moment, Tanjirou thought about being honest. But then, he quickly shrugged the thought off. It seemed like Muichiro was having fun and he did not want to spoil his experience. So, he shot him a smile and nodded, hoping that this would be enough to convince him.

Muichiro looked at him for a little bit longer, searching for something in his face, and Tanjirou felt warmth creeping up his neck. For a moment, it looked like Muichiro wanted to say something but then he only nodded and turned back to inspect the room they were now in. Tanjirou followed his gaze – and grimaced when he saw the blood. It was everywhere, flowing over silver tables, countertops and giant knifes, forming red pools on the floor. He retched when he saw two gurneys that were covered in body parts. And when he looked up, a giant figure stepped out of the shadows and stormed towards them, wielding an enormous butcher knife.

“I’ll cut you open,” the man thundered and with a yelp, Tanjirou dodged his attack, dragging Muichiro with him.

His heart raced in his chest when they scurried through the silver counters, only barely dodging pools of blood. Heavy footsteps echoed behind them when the butcher chased them through the room, getting dangerously close. Tanjirou gagged when he grazed one of the gurneys, accidentally knocking a severed leg off it. His blood rushed in his ears and the red around them starting blurring. With a desperate sprint, he managed to dodge the butcher knife once more and dove through an open door at the end of the room. He quickly pulled Muichiro through the door as well and jumped against it just when the butcher reached it. With a satisfying thud, the door closed in the man’s face and Tanjirou pressed his back against it when the butcher slammed into it at full force. Muichiro hastily came to his aid and together, they held the door close until the banging from the other side subsided.

“That was close,” Muichiro gasped out and tried to wipe away some blood from his face, only smearing it over his cheek.

Tanjirou looked at him and shook his head. “Wait,” he muttered and carefully wiped away the blood with a corner of his sleeve. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” Muichiro said with a soft smile and Tanjirou’s cheeks blushed. He quickly looked away and eyed the room they had rescued themselves to. His heart sank when he saw rows upon rows of gravestones, each of them more weathered and lopsided than the other. And between the vines covering the ground of the graveyard, mist started to form, rapidly growing denser, dancing in little swirls around their ankles.

“Oh no,” Tanjirou whispered. He desperately searched for another door but he could not see anything but the endless graveyard around them. And since he would rather not take his chances with the butcher again, they had no choice than to head into the depths of the graveyard.

With a sigh, he braced himself and took a first step, when suddenly a hand gently touched his wrist. Surprised, he looked up – and froze when he saw the concerned look on Muichiro’s face. “What’s the matter, Tanjirou?” he asked softly.

Tanjirou could not meet his eyes and instead nervously glanced down at the mist that had now worked its way up to their knees. “This … this is spooky,” he reluctantly admitted.

When he looked up, he saw that Muichiro’s eyes had widened. “Really?” he asked in surprise.

Tanjirou sighed and his shoulders sank down as he nodded. He averted his eyes and stared at his hands. “I know this isn’t real but … it feels real.”

Muichiro paused for a moment. Then, his face softened and he gently grabbed Tanjirou’s hands and intertwined his fingers with Tanjirou’s. “I’ll protect you,” he said with a smile that sent a warm shiver down Tanjirou’s spine.

Thankful, he leaned against Muichiro and for the first time since they had entered the haunted house, he felt like he could breathe again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect it to be this creepy.”

Muichiro firmly shook his head and ran his thumb over the back of Tanjirou’s hand. “No, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I should have noticed you were feeling uncomfortable.”

Tanjirou looked at him and laughed softly. “How could you? I’ve been putting on a brave face the whole time and I’m quite the good actor.”

Muichiro chuckled and pulled him closer. “Well, you certainly fooled me. How about we try to find the exit now? And if anything jumps at us, I’ll beat it up.”

This made Tanjirou laugh and as he nodded, the knot in his stomach began loosening. He looked down at the mist that now floated around their hips but this time, his fear only slightly stirred instead of overwhelming him again. “Sounds like a deal. But we should probably hurry before we get eaten alive by the mist.” When Muichiro returned his gaze, he saw amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I’m the Mist Hashira, don’t you know?” Muichiro said with a smile. “I’ll get us out of here in no time.”

And when they started walking again, Tanjirou’s hand safely in Muichiro’s, he felt comfortable for the first time this evening.

#flufftober2024 #day 12 #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #tanjirou x muichiro #muitan #tanjirou kamado #muichiro tokito #haunted house #spiders #halloween #fluff #horror #romance #friends to lovers #fanfiction #writing

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fan-a-tink · 10 months ago

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Young Royals S3 thoughts

EP5

Even just hearing this scene’s echo was horrific. It must have been so much worse to actually go through it.

It must be so hard for Wille to reconcile how he knows Erik which what he now knows about him. And he is not here anymore to defend himself. Uuuurgghhhhh!

Please talk to Simon. Please talk to him. Shutting him out will not make anything better.

Sara and Felice doing desserts together, that’s the best idea anyone has ever had :) A chance for them to talk, yay!

This Micke is starting to be a dad too good to be true. This is sketchy behaviour. He is too happy, this is going to spiral out of his control. Oh Sara I am worried for you….

Ok, I am just going to say it (even 2021 me would judge me so hard for this) but August „redemption arc“ is working. Like I honestly believe that he is trying to be a little bit better as a person. I want him to be alright. And yes, I am shocked that I think this.

Whose locker is number 60? Is that Sara’s?

Wille once more calling his parents because he needs support. And his dad once more not stepping up. Nobody is perfect, not even Kronprins Erik….!

Edvin Ryding, the actor you are…

This episode it’s Wille’s turn to look as if his soul has left him.

Oh shit this will be the music room fight. I am not ready. I am not ready. No no no no no noooooooo.

RIP Wille in the choir. Those scenes in episode two were worth it though :))

It is so typical for Simon to think that he has done something wrong. Simon, my love, you are not ‚difficult‘ for asking questions!! You are wonderful.

Wille, those are your thoughts, not Simons. They are your fears, your doubts, your anxieties. And they are completely valid. But please don’t put words in Simon’s mouth and push him away like that. „Maybe he gave in to peer pressure. What do you know?“ Like, Simon is trying to help you here, he’s trying to talk it through with you and help you out. Nooo, don’t walk out on him?!!!

Simon being left behind in the music room is just as devastating as Wille being in there after their fight last season. I am done with this music room.

The 36 on Simon’s locker is now always going to remind me of that fan exam :)) I was sooo unsure about that question haha

So she takes the letter, but is she reading it? Should we assume she read it? Or is she just not going to read it? I am confused…

Oh no. Micke has forgotten. The hope and desperation in her voice that she’s trying to conceal while leaving these voice messages for her dad is killing me. Also, ruuuuuun! You can still make it :)

Why is Wille only ever with Felice when he’s had a fight or something with Simon? Like, when they’re good, he never hangs out with her.

I also do believe he would have accepted and embraced Wille’s queerness. But I guess it’s the fact that we’ll never know that is so hard to deal with.

Purple nail polish ✨ slay :)

Sara made it :) But also, it’s stressing me out that she just puts her id back into her bag and doesn’t close it properly. It could fall out!

That is so heartbreaking seeing that Micke is falling back into the habit of drinking with his friends. And the worst possible moment for Sara to find out, mid-driving test, in the middle of the road.

Linda giving Simon the long overdue hug and telling him he’s not doing anything wrong. YES!

„Love shouldn’t be this difficult“ - Linda, I trusted you!!! Don’t give Simon ideas..

Sara turning up at the house, breaking down. Simon hugging her. Forgiving her. I am in actual tears now. Can’t handle it. I’m sooo glad he is forgiving her. This was soooo necessary. Finally some healing….

That’s a decent apology text, Wille, I’m proud of you :)

The nail polish looks sooo good!!

And its off 😂 That was shorter than Wille’s career in the choir..

The Happy Birthday Song Scene will forever be my favourite Wilson scene. I am crying my eyes out because I know it’s all going to go wrong soon, and this might be one of the last moments of happiness. And it is SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!!

Also I am sooo glad the ‚Is everything ok between us?‘ line happened here and now was immediately answered with a ‚yes‘ - that takes away one of my biggest fears from the trailer…

Also, he made him a sandwich? Asjdnä oajbef lskdfb .sjdnfsldnf lsdn 💜

I like Farima. Also her green suit is gorgeous :)

They are holding hands in the car !!!!

„Maybe it was stupid to tell you that thing about Erik. I get that it must’ve been tough to hear.“ Yeah, no shit, August.

Simon is just chilling, living his best life eating cake :)

„Cause there’s a risk of poisoning.“ Oooff. Simon’s expression is golden :))

I think Simon will never get used to having staff to take care of everything. And to Wille being absolutely ok with that and not even noticing it.

Spotted Lisa Ambjörn, hihiiiii :))

Please make Simon feel welcome. Please.

Why are they all pretending like everyone’s happy and fine?

August is just so happy to be near Sara, it is actually adorable.

Felice and Sara working side by side. I have so much hope that they can find their friendship again. Like, they are both loving being in each other’s company..! And Felice wanting to be a chef? I am here for it!!!! That whole little scene was beautiful :))

That is the most awkward dinner conversation ever. Poor Simon. Poor Wille. And they really don’t make it easy for anyone just bringing everything back to Erik. Like, that just adds so much pressure on Wille, and also this is such a vulnerable topic for him right now…

Class Bad Boy. Lol

I love that he hates the title. Like, season 1 August would have loved it! That is GROWTH, ladies and gentlemen!

„It’s not very long. I’ll read it to you“ - dude, she can read, she just didn’t want to!

His voice breaking up a little while he reads the letter. Malte is really on the next level this season…

The way he leans his head into that hug…! I have so much hope for them…. Please, please, please!

Yes, I can see that from Frederike’s point of view this looks bad. But you don’t know anything about the situation. And you’re just going to cause problems. But of corse she runs straight to Felice. Uuughhh, and things were just starting to look like they could be friends again someday.

Wille playing a bit of the school song. Is that the only thing he remembers how to play, because he taught it to Simon?

Wille, you’re being unfair. Yes, it’s hard for you. But Simon is also allowed to find it hard. And he is only trying to support you.

I’m sorry, but Wille’s parents could not be more useless right now. I am so glad Wille is finally speaking his mind. Maybe the delivery is not the most productive, constructive, diplomatic, but a child should not have to beg for his parents to be there for him. And they should not just leave the room when he does. Like, I understand that you are ill and struggling and that it must be absolutely terrible to deal with your eldest son dying tragically in a car crash, but Wille is right, you still have a son, and he needs you!!!

The way Simon looks horrified and genuinely scared when Wille smashes the gifts. Like, he looks kind of scared of Wille. I bet he witnessed these kind of violent outbursts from his dad when he was younger. Oh Simon….

There it is: „Love shouldn’t be this hard.“ And it hurts just as much as I thought it would.

Wille’s cheek is so wet, he must have been crying a lot already.

Simon’s voice cracking when he says „Maybe it just can’t work.“ - he is breaking his own heart admitting this.

The lyrics just before the cut „I got addicted to a losing game“ - KILL ME NOW!

I am in tears. Like, I knew they were going to come to a point like this, but that doesn’t mean it’s ok!!!

#young royals #young royals season 3 #yr season 3 spoilers #young royals s3 spoilers #yr s3 spoilers

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damn-stark · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 16 LONG LIVE THE QUEEN

Chapter 16 of Sandstorm

A/N- Two more chapters before the big finale!!

Warning- Swearing, death, violence, blood, fluff, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

“…that was the story of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters, my favorite story when I was a little girl. Albeit…my father, your grandfather, would tell it a whole lot better.” Your voice quietly fills the room Jon walks into.

Today was the day you parted from Dorne to march towards Kings Landing for one last time, for the big fight, the last battle. Neither of you knew if either of you were going to make it, you kept hoping you would, but anything can happen. And because your fate is unclear you haven’t wanted to leave the twins' side all day today. Jon didn’t either, he was happy now with his family, with his children only a few weeks old, with you.

This is where you belonged, here with them, and now you’re leaving. This is all you ever wanted and you’re leaving again.

But it has to be done for…Rhaenar, for their own safety; they’ll always be a threat to her now that the Lords allied with you have turned a blind eye about Jons true parentage. It’s not hard to guess why; he’s a man, the last Tagaryen male with a dragon, he’s valuable to them. He’s their true King.

They can think whatever though, fuck them, you’ll still be the one on that throne at the end of the day.

“Y/N,” Jon makes himself known, albeit you don’t look back at him, you keep admiring Rhaenyra and Robb falling asleep in your arms. “It’s time to go love.”

You begin rocking your body gently to make them fall asleep faster, ignoring Jon’s approaching footsteps.

“They’re falling asleep,” you whisper. “I just fed them.”

Jon’s hand presses on your back and slowly slides it around your shoulders as he crouches down by you to admire the twins as well. One last time before you left.

“I think they know we’re leaving,” you mention and look at him with a smile. “They’ve barely slept all day today.”

Jon hums and reaches out to caress Robb’s chunky cheek. “We’ll see them again,” he assures you so it can make your departure easier. “I promise.” He then slides his hand up to cup your cheek and tilts your head to the side so you can meet his gaze. “They’re waiting, come on. Before it gets harder.”

You draw in a deep breath and look down at them again, they weren’t in deep sleep, but their eyes are closed now, and Jon is right. So you get up and approach the wooden cradle that has your new family sigil carefully carved on the wood; the three headed dragon wrapped around the sun with a spear stabbed through it. They share it for now since they’re still not used to being apart from each other. You tried to sleep them in different ones but they cried all night until you figured out the solution.

“Here,” Jon whispers and picks up the dragon eggs off their warming chamber and places the sapphire blue colored egg to the right where you put Rhaenyra down, and he then places the silver colored egg on the left side where you place Robb.

Before you pull away from them you caress their cheeks one more time before you lean in and press a soft kiss on their heads. “I love you my babies,” you whisper in a quivering voice before you force yourself away from them.

Jon then proceeds to lean in and press a gentle kiss on their heads before he digs in his pocket and pulls out a small pouch. You watch him carefully and notice him pull out thin silver necklaces with a pendant that has a direwolf engraved on it.

“It’s made of Valyrian steel,” he whispers and clasps it around their necks. “A gift…for just in case.”

You drop your head and wipe away the tears that he made break from your eyes.

“We’ll be back,” he whispers to the sleeping twins. “Before you know it.”

You clutch onto your chest and turn away so you wouldn’t sob there. Jon then approaches you and grabs your shoulder to turn you to face him. “Are you ready?” He asks.

You glance down at your silver armor protecting your chest, and catch the red rubies that are in the shape of your new house sigil shine against the candle's light, and then look at him and nod. “I am. You?”

Jon glances behind you and hesitates before he nods. “I am. It’s just…hard, you know? I don’t want to leave our children without their parents, I want to be there for them.”

You wrap your hand around his and use your other hand to cup his cheek. “And you will. I promise you you will.”

Jon smiles softly at you before he presses his forehead against yours. “We’ll both come back to them. I swear. War won’t be what breaks us apart.”

You muster a soft smile and close your eyes. “Promise me you won’t leave me alone in this world.”

“I won’t,” Jon whispers before he pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss. You melt into it, you pull him closer as much as he can be against you, and feel tears roll down your cheeks. When you pull away he wipes the tears off your cheeks and flashes you smile. “I love you,” he says. “From this day until the end of my days.”

“I love you too,” you say back without hesitation. “From this day until the end of my days.”

Jon’s smile widens and he lets his hands linger on your cheeks for a moment until a knock raps on your door.

You hesitate to address the visitor, but you can’t stay here and delay this final battle.

“Come in,” you break your silence as you pull away from Jon.

Sarella then walks in with a sheathed spear and other sheathed weapons. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to let you know that your blades are coated and prepared.”

You offer her a stiff nod and walk to her under the doorframe. “Good, thank you Sarella.” You whisper while you grab your weapons from her and tie the sheaths on you. “Take good care of them all right?”

Sarella grabs your hands and offers you an assuring nod. “Of course I will, as if they were my own. You have nothing to worry about.”

You sigh. “If anything happens the three Queensguard I left behind will take them back North with Lady Sansa,” you let her know. “Accompany them the way there.”

Sarella nods and then wraps her arms around your neck, catching you by surprise. Albeit you don’t wait to hug her back.

“Kill all those bastards.” She says by your ear.

You smirk and nod before you pull away and assure her. “I will.”

Sarella shoots you one last smirk before you leave the room with Jon by your side.

“I need to make something known,” you break your silence. “When we face Gendry, I need you to swear to me you won’t stop me from killing him.” You look over at him and see his eyebrows begin to furrow with discontent. “Arya nor Ser Davos can either. I know how much you all care for him, but if I let him live, the life of our kids, my own life and yours will always be in danger because they’d want him sat on that throne. And they’d do anything to make it happen.”

Jon sighs before he meets your gaze without judgment, he’s expressing sincerity and determination. “I swear,” he assures you.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

The dream is still recurring, that same dream of those two cradles in the destroyed throne room of King's Landing. The sigils carved on the wood are still clear in your head, your new sigil on one, and the old Targaryen sigil; Daenerys sigil, on the other cradle. You still can’t see what’s inside the cradle even if the cries of babies echo in the hall.

Albeit now there’s no fire that starts around you, there’s no blunt ending to it, there’s no need for more. It ends just as you see inside and you know you’re happy and satisfied.

Yet how can you feel satisfied when you can’t find the meaning and it haunts you everytime you sleep?

Does it mean you’ll win this war?

That you’ll live and get to see Rhaenyra and Robb again? Hopefully that’s the meaning, you’d be happy if that’s what it means.

Regardless, that dream has nothing to do with right now. Right now you have to worry about winning this battle and sitting on that throne. Right now, you cut your palms and watch the blood drip from them to then wipe that blood down your face to remind you of your reasons why you fight, why you’re risking your life and that of the others. For Rhaenar. For justice. Vengeance. For fire and blood.

Your uncle Doran said not to let vengeance cloud your judgment, Jon said not to let anger cloud your judgment. But what they don’t know is that anger and vengeance has finally cleared your mind. Because of it you finally see the goal you were blinded to before, that that throne belongs to you.

“Your Grace,” Ser Brienne’s voice filters in through your tent.

You pull away from the mirror and wipe away the tear that had broken out before you bandage your cuts, and address the loyal knight. “Yes, come in.”

The flaps get pushed aside and Ser Brienne's tall figure casts over you. “Prince Gendry Baratheon is approaching, he wants to talk to you.”

You lift your gaze to meet hers and smirk. “He’s eager,” you comment and push yourself off the chair to follow her out.

Ser Lana hands you your spear as she and Ser Rayne, Ser Alys, Ser Brienne, and Sansa follow you out.

“Still nothing from the Westerlands?” You ask Sansa as you sheath your spear.

Sansa shakes her head. “No. But you know how they are, they’re waiting for the moment either side is winning. As long as they don’t attack us they’re nothing to worry about.”

You nod softly in agreement and turn your head completely to the aide to look at her as you ask your next question. “What of Prince Mors and the fleet?”

Sansa slowly meets your gaze, knowing your teasing insinuation behind your question. “He’s started his battle against the Iron Islands fleet, and that of the Second Sons. He’s…alive. He’s fighting well…so I’ve been told.”

You smirk and look ahead again. “Once this is done I’ll fling you two together and lock you in a closet.” You snicker. “Or I’ll demand something to happen. I will be Queen after all.” You steal a glance at Sansa, and see her smirk at the ground before she looks at you with a serious glare.

“Focus,” she deadpans. Albeit you see her hidden smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” you drop the subject. “Now, take care of yourself Sansa, I’ll see you once it’s all done.” You throw her a wave and don’t take a moment to give her one last hug in case this is your last moment, you can’t face her and say goodbye, you’ll falter and want to leave this battle with her.

“Wait!” She forces you to stop regardless.

You slowly turn around and only see a glimpse of her before she closes the small gap between the two of you with an embrace.

“Be careful out there,” she whispers. “Okay?”

You hug her back gently and nod, “okay,” you whisper. “And please if anything happens to Jon and I, take care of them okay?”

Sansa nods. “I will, but I know you’ll both make it out. I know it.” She assures you.

You pull back quickly so you wouldn't follow her out of battle. “I’ll see you.” You throw out before you turn and walk away.

Once you get past the army line, when you reach the top of the hill just a few clicks away from Kings Landing's gate you see Gendry approaching with an army of Dothraki men behind him.

“Has there been sighting of Drogon?” You ask Ser Alys.

“No, but our scouts say they saw him flying away last night.” Said knight informs you whilst you come to a stop

You then hum and raise your chin to glance at the Red Keep, hoping you’d see Daenerys overlooking the army that surrounds her city, but there’s no one on any balcony.

What if she left? She’d have to care more about her unborn baby now, she wouldn't risk her life here.

“Queen Y/N Targaryen,” Gendry greets with the right title surprisingly enough. “It’s unfortunate that we meet under these circumstances.” He searches the group of woman for Jon you assume, but he’s not amongst them or behind you.

"Where's Jon?” Gendry asks and meets your gaze. “I wish to speak to him.”

You scoff. “You’ll see where he is soon enough,” you counter with a smirk since you don’t want to give away that he's going to attack from behind the castle with Rhaegal to get rid of the army that resides within the walls. You want Gendry to be surprised.

“What do you want?” You ask nonchalantly.

“Peace,” Gendry blurts and takes a step forward, making your knights take a step forward to protect you. “You don’t have to do this, we don’t have to fight. It’s useless. Daenerys is willing to negotiate peace”

You narrow your gaze and suck in your cheeks before you spit at the ground before him. “Fuck her peace. This war means everything to me,” you snap back. “I was willing to give her peace and do you know what she did?” You scoff and shake your head as tears fill your eyes.

“She killed my son. My boy! He was only ten years old, he didn’t do anything, he wasn’t at fault because I fell in love with Jon and made his kids, he was innocent and she killed him!” You cry out. “That may not mean much to you, nor will you ever feel that kind of pain or love for your own kid, but it meant everything to me. He had a whole life ahead of him, he had dreams, he had goals!” You exhale shakily and let your tears stream down to mix with the blood on your face. “He wanted to fly on his own dragon, he wanted to meet his brother and sister, and now it’s all gone like he is. So no, Gendry I won’t accept her peace, we won’t stand down,” you grimace and take a step forward. “We’ll fight, we’ll give our hearts, and I’ll kill you and end the Baratheon line once and for all.” You raise your chin with pride and see him swallow thickly.

You then step back and discreetly reach for one of your daggers rather than raising your spear to give your army the signal that battle has started.

“Tell me where Daenerys is Gendry,” you add and slowly begin to pull out your dagger.

Said man lifts his own chin and remains quiet, making you snicker to stall for Jon to make his move and for you to be able to pull out your dagger. “You know it’s said that your father,” you point at him. “Wore a helmet just like that,” you point up to his silver helmet over his head that has golden stag antlers at the sides. “When he fought my own father. Will you prove to be as legendary of a fighter as your father was? Or will the dragon get its revenge?”

Gendry shrugs. “We’ll see won’t we?” He says a bit smugly, making you smirk in amusement.

Albeit now you do have your dagger in your hand, you can throw it at him now, but you wait. He turns to head back down, but you wait for a second, and a second longer until finally there’s a big boom and battle cries fill the air before debris raides in the air, and there in the distance is the sound of Rhaegal’s booming roar.

Jon broke through the wall! He made the first move, now it’s you. So while Gendry freezes and hears the battle play out in the distance you hurl your dagger at him, intentionally letting the poisoned coated blade just cut his cheek as it flies past him.

He quickly turns in disbelief and touches his cheek to feel the blood that begins to spill out.

You shoot him a mischievous smirk and reach for your spear now. “I drew first blood. Your turn,” you grumble and then snatch your spear from your sheath before you throw your arm in the air to give the signal.

Battle horns then break the silence behind you before thousands of hooves hit the ground like thunder breaking in the sky. Gendry begins to back up, and as he does Eraxis reveals herself to the enemy armies as she comes shooting down from the sky.

Gendry's eyes widen whilst behind him the Dothraki let out battle cries of their own before their horses come sprinting forward, responding back to your own battle call.

However as it all begins to unravel, Gendry doesn’t move, nor does anyone move him or protect him, he lets the warriors behind him begin to run towards your army filled with men and women from the Reach, the North, Dorne, The Vale and The Riverlands. You on the other hand shoot him a malicious smirk as you lower your spear and point the blade at him.

“It’s okay,” you tell your women Knights. “I got him.”

The women hesitantly disperse as the armies meet halfway and start fighting, all while Gendry still doesn’t try to move.

“I won’t fight you,” he says.

You slowly lower your spear and flip it around in your hand as you narrow your gaze on him. “Greyworm didn’t want to fight me either. I still killed him, so choose, die like a warrior or die a coward.”

Before he can answer, nevertheless you charge at him. He catches your action and swings his huge hammer, but you quickly snap your body back and slide down, letting your blade slice the side of his leg as you move past him.

Gendry groans and turns slowly to face you now behind him. He parts his lips to speak, but the sound of a horse charging at you steals your attention, so you proceed to jump out of the way to avoid being cut by a Dothraki.

Before he can turn around and come back for more you pull a dagger out and hurl it at the back of his throat, causing him to immediately go limp and fall off his horse.

He really thought he was going to kill you, how sweet. You caught him though when you were sliding past Gendry.

“It doesn't have to be this way,” Gendry interjects loudly so he can be heard over the sound of battle.

You shake your head. “No,” you agree. “It doesn’t, that’s why I’m fighting down here and not on Eraxis and obliterating everything. Now fight—”

“Our children can grow up together,” he cuts you off, making you hesitate. “If we have a son he can marry your daughter and rule together. There can be peace! Don’t you want that? Don’t you want them to have what we couldn’t? A united family?”

You swallow thickly and think about his offer, you really give it thought. He’s right after all, you want nothing but peace for the twins, you want to be there for them, you want to have more kids, have a big family with Jon. You want to live happily. But, when you close your eyes you see them, every single one of your ancestors has their eyes on you, they’re waiting for you to take back what was lost. They’re waiting for you to win and change what they failed to do. You close your eyes and see Rhaenar’s little face burnt, lifeless and gone because of her.

There can’t be peace.

You let out a deep scream and run at him, just before you can reach him you jump up and try to bring your spear down at him, albeit he lifts his heavy hammer and blocks your attempts. You scoff at him and quickly follow that action by grabbing another dagger and then shifting back to let his arms fall. You don’t let him take a break and quickly spin around him again, managing to slice his ankle and knock him off his feet.

It was easy work really, he’s probably not a trained fighter like you are. And you don’t have an ounce of care for him like some of others do, it’s just killing that’s the problem.

But you have to, or else you’ll die, or else your children will be in danger. So before he can move you hold your spear with both hands and lift it up to bring it down.

However, before the blade can hit him, from the corner of your eye you catch someone pointing an arrow at you, so you snap to the side to face him and throw your spear up in the air to catch it in the right position, before you then hurl it at the dothraki warrior when he shoots his arrow. But unlike yours, his arrow only skims past the side of your head managing to nick your flesh, while your spear impales him in his chest and knocks him off his horse.

Now back to Gendry.

Yet when you turn to face where he was on the ground he’s no longer there, just drops of blood staining the dirt.

You sigh and try to look through the crowd but the sight of running bodies, of horses and clanging blades blocks your view. All you can see is his trail of blood leading towards the wall gates.

“Fine,” you grumble and turn to pick up your spear. “I’ll play.” You roll your head around to crack your neck whilst you stride towards the spear impaled through the man.

Nevertheless, just before you can reach your weapon another Dothraki warrior comes charging at you, he’s screaming at the top of lungs and jumps on top of his horse. You stumble back and pull out your last dagger, you clench your jaw and hold his intimidating gaze. You get ready to face him even if he has the high ground.

Luckily though just before his blade can come down, a leather whip wraps around his throat and yanks him off his horse. You gasp and don’t pay attention to the horse getting run over by another horse nearby, you move past the violent scene and then notice that Ser Alys was the one that helped you.

“Thank you!” You throw at her and pick your spear off the other mans body.

Said woman bows her head. “Of course, You Grace! What next?” She asks.

“I find Gendry, he ran past the walls I assume. Help me get past this battlefield.” You tell her honestly and glance up at Eraxis in the sky, wishing you could climb on her to reach your destination, but your own soldiers are mixed here so she’d squish them if she lands. So on horse or foot it is, she can follow.

“Right away!” Ser Alys agrees, and ends up quickly finding horses you can mount to reach your destination faster.

Albeit it’s getting past the Dothraki soldiers that’s the problem. They see you and try to attack you, and you’re not used to fighting on horseback as much as they are, but you try your best to block their attempts. You kill some others, cut the arms off others. You bathe yourself in their blood, adding to the intimidation around you.

Thankfully though, after some struggle, and thanks to Ser Alys help you get past the battlefield of fighting warriors, and sea of dead bodies piling around.

“Here is as far as you go,” you tell Ser Alys as you jump off your horse. “This fight is mine and mine alone.”

“But,” she argues. “I won’t leave you. You are my Queen. If you die what becomes of me?”

You stop walking and turn to face her. “I won’t die. But if you must, get rid of any obstacles ahead, Ser Brienne should already be ahead, Eraxis will help you clear a path to the Red Keep regardless. Remember don’t harm any civilians. I’ll catch up when I’m done.”

Ser Alys hesitates, but listens nonetheless, letting you get back to the trail of blood that you have been following. Sure now it can be anyone’s, but when you were fighting the Dothraki you did catch a glimpse of Gendry running this way. He also won’t get very far considering the poison running its course, he’ll be nearby, so you stalk forward like a hungry predator.

“Prince Gendry,” you taunt him. “Come out, I bet you want to talk to me.” You flip your spear around in your hand to let your blade drag on the dirt whilst you study the street you walk down, spotting a trail of blood going towards a nearby market, so you follow it.

You open the tents flaps and see it unoccupied, thankfully. But he’s nearby, so you slow down your pace to be quieter and hopefully surprise him.

However, just as you turn to walk to another part of the tent suddenly something hard slams into the back of your leg, causing something to snap in your leg that basks your entire leg in an obliterating pain. You cry out and fall on your knees, but that only makes the pain intensify to the point you can’t stand being on your knees, so you flip around to sit and stretch your legs out.

That’s when you see that a part of your bone is sticking out. It’s broken….

“I’m sorry,” you hear a familiar voice interject.

You snap your eyes up and see Gendry approaching you with his hammer in hand. You want to drag yourself back, but it hurts too damn much to move, you have to snap your bone back in place.

“Let me help—”

“Don’t you dare touch me,” you sneer and don’t hesitate to slam your hands on the bone sticking out to snap it back in place. You cry out even if you don’t want to, and then drop your head to let your tears out.

Gendry in the meantime is cautiously approaching you, you can hear his boots hit against the ground.

“You’re not going to ask me what’s happening to you?” You ask in a hoarse voice and slowly take a peek up at him, noticing the blood coming out of his nose and ears. “Why your veins are on fire? Why blood is coming out of your ears?” You add and shoot him a smirk whilst you reach for your spear beside you.

“Look,” he ignores you even if you guessed exactly what he was feeling. “I don’t want to kill you.”

You begin to chuckle and roll your head up, causing him to blink repeatedly in surprise as he sees the blood that cakes your face and bathes your armor, and that turns your silver-white hair crimson red.

“That’s funny,” you counter and completely grasp your spear before you shove yourself to your feet and charge at him.

Albeit Gendry is quick and avoids your lunge, instead he grabs you by your throat and begins to shove you back out of the tent.

The pain on your leg burns the entire time, he makes it feel worse as he drags you out, but you have to ignore it now, you have run on your adrenaline so as to not let the pain affect you. However, he then proceeds to shove you to the ground and climbs onto you, stabbing his knee in your wounded leg and bringing you more agony.

Before you can scream this time he presses the stick end of his hammer against your throat, cutting off the air that comes into your lungs.

“I won’t kill you,” he makes himself clear. You try to scoff in amusement, but all that comes out is a strangled choking sound.

Now he might not want to kill you, but as every second passes you feel your consciousness slip, and if you fall now then you can’t reach Daenerys, you might lose this battle. So with all the strength you can muster you pat the ground, finding a good sized rock, and then proceed to throw your hand up and stab the rock in his eye.

Gendry bellows out, and immediately lets you go to get on his feet and grab at his eye pouring out blood.

You proceed to ignore your pain and grab the hammer he left over you to push yourself up. The pain threatens to weaken you, but you stay on your feet, you fix your grip on the hammer since you dropped your spear in the tent, and raise it.

Gendry notices and you raise your chin. “This is for my father,” you spat out, and use as much force as you can muster to swing the hammer across his chest, knocking him down to the ground at that very moment.

You may have no respect for your father, but he still is your father. He still did love you when you did have him, and you loved him unconditionally before Robert Baratheon robbed him of his life, before your uncle Oberyn told you the truth—poisoned your mind and memories.

“I’m sorry,” you tell Gendry with sincerity as you approach him unable to grasp onto air, as blood begins to stream out of his eyes like tears as the poison also brings him closer to death. “But if I kept you alive my family would never be safe. Life would repeat itself, and I’ve already lost too much…” you pause as wings flapping close by steals your attention. When you look up you see Eraxis wanting to land ahead of you.

“For whatever it’s worth,” you say and crouch by Gendry. “You were a good man. Better than the beast your father was. May you find peace Gendry Baratheon.” You stay there beside him and watch him take his last shaky breath before his eyes roll back and he goes limp.

“Y/N?!” Your name is then called ahead.

You look up and see Eraxis hover over the ground as Arya approaches all covered in blood. Just what you needed—albeit it is too late for her to even talk to him now.

“Arya,” you call back and stand up to your feet.

Said girl's eyes lower to the body beside you and she goes rigged, making you avert your gaze and instead go back inside the tent to pick up your spear. When you come back outside you see her by his lifeless body hovering her hand over his wounded eye, and then lowering to his chest that was encaved. In the distance Eraxis lands on the ground, and since it hurts walking you have to ride her.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter softly to her as you see tears escaping her eyes. “I’m sorry,” you repeat before you break away from the spot and limp towards Eraxis.

Once you’re by your white dragon you steal one last glance, noticing her still by Gendry's side. There was nothing else you could say, Sansa said Arya knew him, that they lay together, they have history, and you were the cause of his death, so there’s nothing to say to comfort her. So instead you slowly climb on Eraxis and now fly towards the Red Keep, towards Daenerys.

Will you kill her with as much ease like with Gendry?

Not now of course, you’ll wait until her baby is born, show her that you were being serious about the threat, a son for a son before you also kill her.

You’ll probably struggle to kill her but she did kill Rhaenar, she has to pay. You’ll make her pay.

Nevertheless, while on your way to the castle you can see the empty streets Arya helped clear so there wouldn’t be any civilian casualties, you can see the battle at the back of the castle Jon started. You can see Rhaegal resting by the castle, letting you think that maybe Jon is fighting with your men below; or inside the castle already. And In the distance, out at sea you can see the fleets battling, you cant see who’s winning from here though.

Another thing you can’t see is Drogon. Where did he go?

Is Daenerys with him?

Regardless you’ll check.

Thus why you have Eraxis land inside the castle, on the steps that lead inside the castle that was once your home, that was the place your mother and siblings died in. The Red Keep.

You’ve been here before since the tragedy, you walked past the gates like now, albeit then it was lively, it was decorated with Baratheon banners, people came and went out for the wedding, you blended in with the crowd. Now as you walk in the hall is empty, it’s cold and dark, it’s deafeningly quiet. Are there even guards?

You walk further inside and notice that the rubble was picked up from when Daenerys destroyed the castle. It also seems like they’re trying to rebuild it, but since you’re here now it’s put on pause.

You then proceed to head to Maegor’s holdfast, knowing well that that’s where Daenerys would take residence. And surprisingly enough, there’s hardly any guards. Those who did seem to be inside were outside trying to stop Jon and his army from getting in, but it was too late, the wall was still not fixed completely, and what was fixed Rhaegal broke. Those few guards that were inside you evaded, there was only one you had to kill but it was done fast and quietly, luckily.

However, as grateful as you are that you don’t run into any more difficult obstacles, it’s not a good sign. Perhaps it’s a sign to leave and finish the battle since the retreat nor the surrender bells are ringing, but if she’s still here you have to find her. You’re so close. Fuck the pain.

Alas, when you reach the hall, it’s empty, there’s no guards anywhere. The hall is cold since the cold breeze creeps in through the open windows. You expect Daario Nahris to be here to protect Daenerys and the unborn child, but it’s too quiet. No one’s here….

Still! You continue to search desperately, you check each room again and again. You check the massive closets, every corner and secret door, but there’s no one, there’s only clothes left behind; her clothes that probably don't fit anymore. She’s the only one missing. Fuck,

“Fuck!” You exclaim and throw off the perfumes and glass containers on a vanity out of anger. “She’s not here,” you mutter to yourself. She’s gone!

At least her husband is dead now, so if she isn’t here then the battle should end soon, leaving you to do one thing now that you are here in Maegor's holdfast. The tower may be different from when you lived here, but the walls are still the same, the ground is unchanged, the halls still hold memories. So with your limp and pain, you drag yourself to the hall you once lived in.

Last time, a couple years ago you couldn’t come here, you were a mere guest undercover, but now you’re here in the same hall, your home. It doesn’t hold the same sweet scent as before, the halls aren’t brightly lit for you and your sister, but as you close your eyes you can still picture the good days, you can imagine your mother; fragile but sweet and loving. You can see Rhaenys chasing after you, you can see your fathers bright and long white-silver hair, you can hear him softly playing his music for your family.

This. This is your home. This is where you belonged, this is where you were meant to die before you could even truly live. Here. You’re home.

When you open the door that leads to where you last saw your mother, you wish to see her still there, helping Rhaenys read. You want her to look up to see you walk inside, you want her to greet you. You want to see her again, but all you see is an empty room, there’s dusty furniture, and all that greets you is the sound of bells beginning to sound in the distance; the sound of retreat. Their retreat.

Yet you can’t get up and celebrate, you can’t smile, you just fall on your knees and begin to sob as you’re embraced by the cold breeze and welcomed by ghosts. Your leg begins to hurt so you have to turn and sit down.

You don’t know how long you do end up staying there, the bells stop ringing at one point, but you stay there remembering and crying as you’re striked with agony.

A few more minutes pass of you all alone in the cold room before you hear Jon’s voice out in the hall. “Y/N?”

You lift your head and bring his attention to this room. “I’m in here.”

Footsteps shift before they hurry over to the room, as the door begins to open you see guards stepping in before Jon hurries inside to where you are on the floor. And before either of you can say anything you both embrace each other, finding relief in each other's presence even as dirty as you are.

“You’re okay,” you whisper and hold the back of his head. “You’re okay,” you whimper.

Jon lowers his head and digs his face in the crook of your neck. “I was so worried,” he muffles. “I couldn’t find you.” He pulls back and wipes the blood off your eyes. “I’ve been looking for you,” he says.

You reach over to cup his jaw and study his face for any wounds, but there’s only blood staining his skin. “Are you okay?” You ask him softly.

Jon grabs your wrists and nods. “Yes. Are you? What are you doing on the floor?”

You part your lips to explain the simple reason; you came here for Daenerys, you’re in this room because you wanted to remember, but tears just spill out and clear a path on your face caked with blood.

“I,” you stammer shakily. “I was meant to die here Jon. I was here and then that stupid cat distracted me. I never saw my mother again, Rhaenys, baby Aegon. I chased after the cat and never saw them again.”

“It was for a reason,” he assures you. “You’re here now for this. This very moment. They retreated, they’re leaving, it’s time for you to get on that throne, be what you were meant to be.”

You lift your gaze and meet his eyes. “You really believe that?” You ask. “Daenerys is gone, but she’s still alive. The war isn’t over yet.”

Jon shakes his head. “No, the war isn’t, but the fighting is done. Without the capital, or allies, Daenerys is done, she lost. Now it’s up to you. This fighting can’t be for nothing. You avoiding death that day happened for a reason, don’t you see it? I know it hurts. I know, my love. But we get to be safe with our children now, you can keep them safe and avoid them having the same fate you did.”

You scoff softly and offer him a sweet smile. “I’ve never heard you talk like that. You believe in fate?”

Jon blinks and shrugs. “I rose from the dead, I had nothing before, but after that I got everything I could have wanted. You, the twins. If that’s not fate then I don’t know what is.”

You smile wider and press your forehead agaisnt his. “You’ll rule with me then? Help me? Make this a good place for our kids? For…people who need help from the horrors of this world? So they don’t have to suffer the same way our family did? Because if you don’t want this we can leave this all behind. We leave now, we pick up the kids and leave.”

Jon nods softly. “I’ll follow you until the ends of this world. I will help you.”

Your heart flutters and your grin widens. “Good,” you whisper and then glance at your leg. “But help me up, I broke my leg.”

Jon pulls back and stares at you with a shocked expression, but you assure him. “It’s okay. That’s all that happened.”

He hesitates, but he then gets guards to help you with your leg before he helps you to your feet. And now since that adrenaline that once pumped in your blood has faded the pain is a lot more immense, now you need Jon by your side to help you walk.

This time though, rather than seeing empty halls once you reach the grande hall, there’s people, your people all bloody bruised but filtering inside slowly. The civilians once warned to hide or evacuate before and during the battle wander inside as well, slowly and cautiously. The once dark halls are slowly getting lit by candles and torches alongside the hall, and Daenerys banners get replaced by your new house banners.

“How many of our people were lost?” You ask Jon.

“We can discuss that later,” Jon says and glances at the open doors that lead to the throne room. “As for now, it’s time.”

You come to a stop to meet his gaze and smile softly. “Will you help me down there?” You ask him.

The corner of Jon’s lips tug to a smile before he offers you an assuring nod.

Now all that follows is the ascension. It seems like a long walk down to the throne, but you’re determined. It hurts to keep moving, but the throne is down the grande hall still filled with gaps on the walls from the last attack, the throne that was meant for your father, the throne built by your ancestors, your throne.

“All hail Queen Visenya, of House Targaryen, second of her name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm!”

The murmuring goes quiet, and feet shift and shuffle as bodies turn to see you. There’s so many times as you walk down the carpet that you want to duck your head and avoid the stares of both your soldiers and the civilians that fill the hall, but they can’t see you embarrassed, they need to see you strong, so you raise your chin high and keep your lips upturned.

Besides as you get closer, Eraxis and Rhaegal appear outside the castle walls and land in behind the gaps that look inside the throne room. Some people get frightened by the presence of the green and white dragon, but they don’t leave, they watch you as Jon lets you go so you can climb the stairs.

However, you then come to a stop before you can climb up, and stare at the throne made of blades of fallen enemies with tears in your eyes. “This is for you Rhaenar,” you murmur. “This is for all of you.” You let out a shaky sigh and smile down at your rings on your fingers. You then peer back and notice Sansa beside your cousin Prince Mors, she meets your gaze and shoots you an encouraging smile.

You mirror her gesture before you face the glimmering metal throne again and continue to walk to it. It takes you a moment to reach the throne, but once you do Eraxis leans her head in through the gap and groans softly, as if comforting you. You look over at her and meet her dark eyes to shoot her a smile before you touch the cool metal and admire the grand design in awe.

This is for them, your family. All of them.

You finally turn to face the crowd and finally sit down on the Iron Throne.

“All Hail her grace!”Jon exclaims.

“Long live the Queen!”

You draw in a deep breath, and raise your chin smugly before you exhale and raise your hand to silence the crowd. Once the commotion silences you put your hand down and interject. “Let’s begin.”

——

*A COUPLE MONTHS LATER*

“Where’s your mummy?” You ask in a playful baby voice and peek through the gaps between your fingers, noticing Robb is serious now as he sees your hands over your eyes. “I’m here!” You exclaim softly and pull your hands off your face with a grin, causing the baby boy to blink in surprise before he starts giggling.

Your smile widens at the sound of his giggle, and then a knock raps on the door.

“Come in,” you announce and pick Robb off the bed to carry him instead. “Do you want to go find your daddy and your sister?” You ask Robb as if he can answer you at 4 months old.

“Your Grace,” you hear Ser Brienne say, making you turn to face her standing by the foot of the bed. “I have news.”

Your smile fades as you see how serious her expression is painted on her features, and probe quietly. “What is it?”

Ser Brienne blinks and sighs. “It’s Daenerys. We finally found out where she is.”

The amusement you just felt gets replaced with shock and disbelief over the news. Finally after months of not hearing about her, of not getting attacked by fire from the sky, or of being attacked by what remains of her army, they've found her. Now it’s time to finish your revenge, it’s time for Rhaenar to get justice.

“Good,” you mutter and walk to Ser Brienne. “Where? Is she at Meereen?”

Ser Brienne shakes her head and shares that Daenerys is hiding in Dorne, hidden past any town that would give her away, where Drogon can hide without being spotted, and where she can rest and wait for her child to be born. You should’ve known.

If she would’ve made it to Meereen someone would have told you, maybe she even would have even wanted to negotiate peace again, but there was not a word from her or about her and her army for months. She wasn’t at Dragonstone, nor at the Iron Islands, it’s like she disappeared. Until now.

And maybe hiding was for the best, you would have too if you were in her position. Yet the truth is nothing would have stopped you from searching for her, not becoming Queen officially, you would have searched for her until the ends of the world for your revenge. Now that she’s been revealed she’ll know what your revenge is, she’ll know the same pain you feel, the ache that still breaks your heart every single day.

“Mummy will be right back, okay?” You tell Robb as you play him in his cradle. “Your sister should join you soon.” You press a kiss on the top of his head and then brush his little black hairs down before you step back and turn to stride out of the room, even as he begins to cry because you’re out of his sight.

However, you don’t make it far out of the castle before you spot Jon, and Rhaenyra in his arms as they seem to be heading to the kids' chambers. “Hello my loves,” you greet them and lean in to press a kiss on Rhaenyra’s forehead before you give Jon a kiss on his lips.

“Eraxis and I are leaving. I’ll be back before Dinner.” You let Jon know as you pull back and caress his chin.

Jon’s gaze narrows in confusion. “Where are you going?” He asks since youre being vague, and you haven’t asked him to go with you.

You draw in a deep breath, knowing how he’ll react. “I’m…” you breathe out. “I'm going to Daenerys. They’ve found her in Dorne. I’m ending this war.” You caress your babygirl's cheek once more before you break away.

Nevertheless before you can continue to walk away, Jon’s hand wraps around your arm, forcing you to stop and look back at him curiously.

“You promised,” he says in a serious voice and with a deep narrowed gaze that makes you uneasy. “You promised you wouldn't hurt that baby. Blame Daenerys all you want, burn what remains of her army, but don’t hurt that baby.”

You could say thousands of reasons why you should, he’d understand now after all; he’s holding onto one of his twins that loves them with all his heart. He’d understand why Daenerys' kid has to get what it deserves, but you know him, you know his morality, Jon won’t understand, and you love him too much to see him go. So you lie.

“I would never do that,” you interject bluntly as you gently push his hand away from your wrist to continue outside towards Eraxis.

This time there’s no more stops, you reach your beautiful white scaled dragon and mount her to then ascend to the skies. You fly over green lands, through a small storm that soaks you entirely. You fly through white fluffy clouds that make you raise your hand to run your fingers through it, and smile. You feel the breeze turn dry the closer you get to Dorne; and the once green fields slowly begin to transcend to golden fields of sand.

Where Daenerys was spotted isn’t deep in Dorne, it’s passing Kingsgrave, just close to the center between that and Sandstone. The castle isn’t as big as you imagined either, it’s a small castle, only two stories high and with a pool in the center of the castle, making the castle stand out from the sky. Trees provide shade all around the castle, and there’s only a few Dothraki tents outside around the castle.

The strangest thing is that they don’t make any commotion. Drogon is resting by the side of the castle and doesn’t pay Eraxis any mind, he doesn’t attack either, letting Eraxis land with ease that begins to concern you. When your feet hit the ground you aren’t rushed by an army even if you have visible daggers hanging from your hips. It’s only once you reach the red doors that lead inside the beautiful vibrant castle that you get stopped by a couple of Dothraki men.

“<Turn back and return home, Dragonslayer,>” one of the men says in Dothrak.

You scoff and get ready to argue, but then a voice cuts in from inside. “<Let her in, the Queen demands it.>” Footsteps approach, and Daario Nahris appears out of the shadows with his eyes red and glistening with tears, with no armor on his body; instead his long sleeved shirt is baggy and stained with sweat, his sleeves are rolled and his hands are stained with spots of dry blood.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” he directs at you as he comes to a stop under the red door frame. “She’s…in there…waiting for you.” He points back inside, making you glance at where he points, spotting white sheer curtains flowing inside thanks to the soft wind.

“I want to talk to her alone,” you demand and meet his watery gaze.

Daario nods stiffly. “She is alone. You made sure of that.”

You blink unfazed by his comment. “You’re still here,” you counter and look at him up and down with judgment before you walk past him.

“Upstairs to the right, red door.”

You hum as you turn to walk up the stairs already. And as it’s you’re walking up is when you take the time to study the hall, to admire the tall ceilings that have pretty blue designs on it. You notice the greenery that drapes down the railings, and the gold design that wraps around the archway that leads to the courtyard. It’s all so simple and pretty, relaxing. If you didn’t come here for a purpose, you would enjoy it here.

But you have a purpose that’s fueled by rage and grief. The closer you get to the room the more that concern vanishes to nothing. Your cautious walk as you reach the second floor turns to a determined stride. You only pause for one second when a baby’s cry breaks the silence that haunted this castle.

“There you are,” you mutter to yourself, and draw in a deep breath before you break away from your spot and exhale as you continue to the room with the red door.

Once you reach the door you don’t knock you slowly open it, and the first thing that greets you is a maester and midwives.

“Get out,“ you demand coldly as you step inside the room.

“Y/N,” you hear Daenerys mutter, but you ignore her call and shift your eyes around the room until you spot a single cradle in the corner of the room.

There it is.

The maesters and midwives filter out, leaving Daenerys and you alone to dwell in a tense silence, letting you eyes lock on the cradle. Letting your mind think of nothing else but your craving for revenge, not even Daenerys laying on her bed, just blood. Rhaenar.

As you stalk towards the wooden cradle you pull out a silver dagger and feel your heart begin to race violently.

Bah-dum, bah-dum, bah-dum, bah-dum.

Daenerys says something as she spots your intention, as she sees the rage in your gleaming glare, but her voice gets tuned out as memories of Rhaenar play in your head; both when he was alive and when you saw his dead body. They let you raise the blade in your hand as you’re inches away from seeing what the cradle holds.

However, you pause as you spot the sigil carved on the end of the cradle. It’s the same one you saw in your dream, and actually now that you’ve see that you notice that it’s on the same cradle from your dream too.

But it can’t mean anything. It doesn’t. Not when you’re so close. So you push that to the back of your mind and take a few more steps until you finally reach the side of the cradle and see the small baby inside wide awake, squirming away.

It seems to spot you and stops to stare at you with its big green eyes. It meets your gaze and you hesitate, but it’s only for a moment because you remember Rhaenar too, you remember when he was that small, you remember what he dreamed of doing when he got older. You remember how excited he was to be bonded with Helios. You remember your son and you raise the blade with tears clouding your eyes.

You raise the dagger and swing it down as you begin to sob. But then, before the blade can even touch the baby, you stop as there in the reflection of the silver blade you see his face, Rhaenar. He’s looking at you with his sweet brown eyes with tears, and he’s shaking his head at you.

Whether it’s some apparition of him, or just your own mind and guilt playing tricks, the reality of what you wanted to do to that baby slams into you roughly. It makes your hand holding the blade shake, and for that anger that poisoned you to completely disappear.

You won’t regret the war you started, no, but it’s this action you almost committed that you do feel ashamed of. What fault does this baby have? He didn’t kill Rhaenar, he’s barely living.

Were you really going to become the same monster that took away your siblings? The same monster you spent your whole life fearing?

No, you cant. You can’t be that person. So you drop the blade and silence your sob so as to not startle the baby any further.

Besides, there’s something familiar about the baby, like if you’ve seen him before…in a dream.

Of course in your dreams all you saw was two cradles, one with your new house sigil carved on it, and the other with the old Targaryen sigil. And this cradle was the exact same one from the dream, this is what the dream means. This baby.

“Daeron,” Daenerys voice finally finds its way inside your ears. “His name is Daeron Targaryen.”

You wipe the tears away and smile softly at the baby as you reach in to pick him up. “Daeron is a perfect name for a little prince. Hello,” you mewl. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I scared you…I’m sorry,” you say again and this time turn your head to glance at Daenerys laying on the bed.

That’s when you notice how exhausted she looks, how much paler her skin is; she looks almost sickly.

“I was being stupid,” you continue to say and approach her with her baby boy. “Forgive me please. I was angry, I was missing him,” you cry as tears fall from your eyes.

Daenerys shakes her head. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she says softly while she watches you take a seat beside her. “I should be the one apologizing to you…” she pauses and lets out a shaky and labored breath that makes your heart slowly begin to sink—“it was because of me that your son was taken from you. It was because of me that our family broke apart. I…I lost my way,” she shares in a shaky voice. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

You part your lips and stare at her in disbelief. You’ve heard her be sincere before, she’s been vulnerable with you before, but this time it feels different, she sounds desperate.

“Y/N,” She insists and grabs your hand with pressure. “Say you’ll forgive me. I can’t—I need to hear it.”

Ah. Now you know. You’ve figured it out; why she looks so sad and sickly, why she hasn't counter-attacked for what you did to Gendry and what you took, why her army of Second Sons or Unsullied isn’t with her anymore…yet you can’t accept that truth.

“We’ll have all the time in the world to make up for what we did to each other,” you try to deny the cruel truth of what’s happening. “I’ll grant you forgiveness, you can live here in your house with the red door. Our babies can grow up with each other. Daenerys,” you whisper shakily.

Said woman begins to cry, but she still musters a soft smile. “That’s all I want for him. I want him to have a good life….with you and your twins.” She grins. “I want you to raise them together, like family.”

You shake your head. “Dany, you’ll be here. You’ll get out of this bed and watch him grow up,” you argue, and hand her her son to then cradle her cheek and continue to insist what won’t happen anymore. “You’ll be a great mother.”

Daenerys glances down at her baby and her smile wobbles. “Thank you for giving me this blessing. Whatever the intent was behind what you did, still thank you. Because of you I got to have him, my Daeron. I love him, y/n, please take care of him, raise him as your own. Love him as I would.” She lifts her watery gaze to look at you and plead. “Please say you will. I don’t have much time, I won’t have the pleasure of seeing him grow up. So please assure me before I go that…that you’ll take him. Please.”

You lean your forehead against hers and nod. “I swear,” you assure her.

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