#when i’d tell him he hurt me he’d joke that it was my fault and that i deserved it

[buck-yyyy]

oh my god. oh my god. oh my fucking god no fuck

[lesservillain]

baby daddy!eddie x mom!reader

cw: smut, non established relationship, best friend!eddie as well, idiots in love

wc: 3.8k

Closing the door as gently as he could, Eddie tip toed down the hall of the trailer and rounded into the kitchen to get himself a beer. He’d played hard enough with Autumn that she could barely keep her eyes open through her bath, but that also meant he wore himself out in the process. So after cracking open a can, he plops his ass down and turns on the TV, ready to chill until he passes out on the couch.

Well, that was the plan. Just as he got comfortable, there was a small knock on the trailer door. With a frustrated sigh, Eddie jumps back up, mumbling something about people coming to his house so late at night.

“Listen, I’ve told you all I don’t fucking deal anymore—Woah!”

Instead of some annoying kids looking for weed, Eddie was met with your sniffling nose and tear stained cheeks. He immediately went into best friend mode, wrapping you in a big hug and letting you get those emotions out.

After some crying and a soaked shoulder later, you finally peel yourself away from Eddie and attempted to talk, but only babbling came out.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Eddie says, thumbs rubbing the tops of your shoulders. “Just calm down and tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head, doing your best to compose yourself.

“He-he-he g-got mar-married,” you hiccup out.

Eddie blinks at you. He knows exactly what you were talking about. Dustin told him back when that Harrington met a girl about 6 months ago and apparently they hit it off right away. The last thing he wanted to do was tell you about her considering your long time pining for him Especially considering he’s the reason Harrington would never ask you out. But you ended up finding out on your own, and devastated couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt.

It seemed soon in Eddie’s opinion, granted he would marry you tomorrow if you would say yes. When Dustin told him that he was going to be the best man that the wedding, Eddie had mixed feelings. He knew that it would kill you when you found out. That you’d react exactly as you were now.

Actually, you’re doing a little better than he anticipated.

“He came into the store and,” you blew your nose into the toilet paper he grabbed for you, “and I saw the ring on his finger when he was getting his money out of his wallet.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.

“They haven’t even known each other that long! He’s such an idiot…”

“I’ve been trying to tell you that,” Eddie jokes, rolling his eyes.

“Oh god, what if--do you think it’s because she’s pregnant?”

Eddie’s pretty sure Dustin would have told him if that was the reason why, but it’s not an unreasonable guess.

“I don’t know, could be? Or maybe Steve Harrington is just an idiot like you said. And maybe they’ll be divorced by this time next year. Who knows, right?”

You sighed, leaning into Eddie and resting your head against him. “I don’t even know why I’m so upset. He was never going to ask me out anyway. No one wants a young single mom. Steve has his whole life to do what he wants, why would he be with someone who has so much baggage?”

“Hey, don’t say that about Audy,” Eddie scolds.

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” you correct, “I was talking about myself. I’d never be with someone who didn’t accept Autumn. Even Steve Harrington. I just…I’m damaged goods, Eddie.”

Eddie could feel himself getting upset but didn’t want to make things worse right now, so he took a few breathes to steady himself. He said your name sternly, pulling your full attention to him.

“I don’t like it when you say things like that. It makes me feel like it’s my fault--”

“Eddie,” you stop him before he can get another word out, “You know that you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve told you before that if I was going to get pregnant right out of high school with anyone that I wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else but you.”

Eddie knows this, and he feels the same. But it’s not what he wants.

Even though it was all a total accident, he hoped that night the two of you spent together was going to be the next step for both of you. And even though he was scared after you told him with tears in your eyes then that he had gotten you pregnant, he wished with all his might that it would bring the two of you closer together.

Which it did in a way. Obviously the two of you would be bound together for the rest of your lives, but it wasn’t in the way he wanted. You still were head over heels for Steve, and there was no way Eddie could even compare to the king.

“Yeah…I know.” He says somberly. Your brows pinch, making him worried he should have said something else.

Then your expression changed. You looked at him intensely for a moment, before your eyes became lidded and…were you leaning in?

Eddie thought fast, making a quick decision to put his hand over your mouth, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes go wide as dinner plates, tears perching on your waterline as what hot embarrassment washes over you.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, suddenly regretting everything. This could have been his chance and he was an idiot.

You pull his hand from his mouth, sitting in silence for a moment before you begin to laugh. It catches Eddie off guard and he freezes.

“Eddie, I should be the one apologizing,” you say with giggles. “I’m the one who was stupid enough to try and kiss her best friend for a second time. We both know what happened the first time and the last thing we need is history to repeat itself.”

Eddie still felt conflicted. Your tone wasn’t sitting right with him, like there was some level of self depreciation in your words.

After a moment you stop laughing. Your face warps into worry as you stand from the couch.

“I-I need to go—“

“No, wait!” Eddie stands to grab your wrist before you could run away. He pulls you into him and hugs you tightly to him. You stand still before slowly wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt in your hands.

“Listen, I know you’re going through a lot emotionally right now, but…I’m here for whatever you need. Even if…” He trails off for a moment, knowing that he’s just going to hurt himself if he lets you use him. But he can’t turn you away when you need him. He’d rather you take advantage of his feelings than run off to someone else who would hook up with you without second thought.

“Even if it means crossing a boundary that we’ve already crossed before.”

Eddie feels you press into him harder, face buried in his chest. And when you look up at him, Eddie thinks he could melt into a puddle and let you mold him to however you’d like.

“I don’t think I should make any rash decisions right now,” you say with a sniffle. “I think I just need to clear my head. Let myself rot in my own misery instead of dumping it all on you.”

“Or,” Eddie says with a smile, “you could rot with me. I rented some movies and some beers in the fridge that have your name on them. I think we have some leftover pizza still, too.”

Your smile was so bright it was comparable to the sun rising. There was nothing in the world that could keep him down as long as you were happy. Eddie probably would have dropped out of school after his second failure if you hadn’t simply smiled at him and told him that he would graduate next year, for sure. He probably only did because you smiled at him every time he got a good grade.

The way you hugged him for a long time after a report card with no F’s on it kept Eddie’s head in the zone that last school year. And, well, the way your body felt under his when he finally graduated…

Eddie shook his head, wracking his brain for anything to keep his mind from thinking about that night right now. There’s no way him getting a boner while you were still holding on to him so tight would be good.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” you finally say after staring up at him for several beats. But Eddie caught the somber look in your eyes. It was going to take a lot of distracting to get you in a good head space.

“You know, I think we might still have some popcorn, too.”

After a few drinks, some weed, and a movie and a half later, Eddie finds himself waking up on his couch at some point after falling asleep. The bright, staticy screen causes him to squint his eyes, turning his head enough to bump his chin against the top of your head.

Eddie looks down at where you’re leaning into his side. He vaguely remembers wrapping an arm around you before the two of you had succumbed to sleep. It pains him to possibly wake you but the urge to pee is what startled him awake in the first place, so he does his best to untangle himself from you and sneaks to the bathroom.

On the way back to the couch, Eddie decided to stop in his room and grab a blanket for the two of you. But when he returns, he finds you sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hey,” you croak out, looking at him with squinted eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers back. “I brought us a blanket.”

You stretch before standing up from the couch. “I should probably head home, Eddie.”

“Sweetheart its,” he leans to check the time on the microwave, “3 in the morning.”

Your eyes go wide, hands running over your face. “It is? Fuuuuck.”

“Just stay,” Eddie says, walking over to you and wrapping you up in the blanket. You groan, feeling conflicted on if you should stay and sleep on Eddie’s couch or if you should brave the drive home.

“Hey, if you stay, you don’t have to drive all the way over here to get Fae in the morning.”

“Ugh, okay you got me,” you say, giving in. You sit back down on the couch and start to make yourself comfortable.

“Wait, you can sleep in my bed. Promise I don’t bite.”

That took less convincing as you pop back up, dragging the blankets behind you as you wobble to Eddie’s room. Eddie laughs as you plop into his bed, stealing one of his pillows to make yourself comfortable.

“Hey save some room for me,” he says, walking around to the other side to climb in. He lays next to you, adjusting in an obnoxious manner that has you giggling. You turn to face him and he does the same.

“I love you,” you say at the tail end of a giggle. It’s something said frequently between the two of you. Genuine as it’s spoken after years of friendship.

“Love you, too,” Eddie says with a sigh. Sleep soon takes you both over again. The only sounds that can be heard is the sound of the a/c doing its best to cool down the trailer.

Eddie felt himself waking once again, this time much more comfortably in his own bed. He yawned, shaking a bit as the feeling of waking overcame his body.

The sun peaking through the cracks of his curtains gave the room just enough light that he could see the room with a slight glow. Turning his head, he chanced to see if you were still laying with him. He had a dream that you’d left with Autumn and ran away with Steve that left a sick feeling in his stomach.

Much to his delight you were indeed still occupying the bed with him. Smiling wide as you looked at him, already awake where you lay.

“Mornin’,” he says in his morning voice, and your eyes flicker.

“Morning,” you squeak back. As Eddie turns to face you, your hand finds its way out from under the covers and reaches out towards him. Your fingers gently glide across his cheek, rubbing against the stubble as you push his hair out of his face.

The way you’re looking at him has Eddie’s tummy feeling funny, but in a different way from his dream. You’re looking at him the same way he looks at you.

Suddenly, you push yourself up on your arm, hand still on his cheek as you start to lean in once again. Eddie’s heart beats hard against his chest as you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

It lasts a few moments, and Eddie melts into it. It was a kiss like none he’s ever had before. Not even compared to the last time the two of you kissed before Autumn was born. This kiss felt like a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter morning, the warmth spreading to every part of his body as he drank you in.

When you pulled away, Eddie chased after you, not wanting it to end so soon unknowing if it would ever happen again. When you don’t kiss him again, his eyes finally open to meet yours. They’re bouncing everywhere, scanning his face as if looking for an answer written on his skin.

“Eddie…”

But Eddie doesn’t let you ponder much longer, hand snaking around your head to pull you into him once more. This time more feverishly, the heat palpable between the two of you.

You shift so that you can bury your hands in his hair, and Eddie takes advantage of this to move himself above you. Eddie kisses you into the pillow beneath you, long kisses turning into passionate smacking, poking the fire that was burning between you.

“Tell me to stop,” Eddie says as his lips begin to move down your cheek and to your neck. He says your name breathily, “Tell me now, because I won't be able to stop once this starts.”

“I-I can’t. I won’t,” you stutter, hands grabbing at his waist as he kisses and nips at your neck. Eddie breathes against you, body alight knowing that you wanted this as much as him.

“But,” you say, stopping him in his tracks. You give him a coy smile, nodding towards the door. “You better make it quick. You know she’ll wake up at any moment.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “Don’t gotta tell me twice. Better get to work then.”

Eddie suddenly lifts the blanket above the both of you and disappears underneath it. Soft kisses leave a trail from your knees to the apex between them. Eddie slips his fingers in the hem of the sleep pants he let you borrow, pulling them down with your panties in one quick motion. There was barely any light to see, so he decided to just dive in tongue first.

He ate you out like a man starved. Your thighs try hard to wrap around him as he works you up on his tongue, but his strong arms hold you open for him. Eddie groans at the way your fingers grip his hair, tugging just enough to burn so good against his scalp.

Once he added fingers, you had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself quiet. It was like Eddie knew exactly what you liked, because not long after you were coming undone, riding his face as you did.

Eddie crawls up your body, head resting between your breasts as he pokes out from under the covers.

“Jesus, Eddie,” you pant, looking at him in awe.

“And that’s not even the best part,” he teases, making you roll your eyes at him. You grab his face and bring him closer to you, tasting yourself on his lips as you kiss him again.

Eddie rolls his hips subconsciously, and you can feel how hard he is as he grinds against you. You want to say you also forgot how big he was, but it’s something you didn’t want to admit you thought about often.

Your hand travels between you, fingers trailing against his skin as you reach the hem of his boxers. Slipping under it, you feel your way to his hard cock, taking it in your hand to pump him. He whines against your lips, hips moving faster in your grip. You watch with awe struck eyes as his beautiful face contorts in pleasure above you.

“Please,” he pants out as he fucks your hand, “Wanna be inside you. Can I?”

You nod silently, unbelievably turned on by your best friend for the second time now.

He works fast pulling his boxers off quickly, a loud thwaping coming from his cock smacking against his stomach after getting caught on the waistband. Your eyes go wide as you take in his size.

After almost 2 years you’re still shocked at what Eddie Munson is packing. Those dumb ass cheerleaders that picked the bone head jocks over him have no idea what they missed out on.

Eddie settled himself between your legs, spitting on his own cock to get it good and wet before rubbing it in your soaked folds. You had a moment of clarity, realizing that Eddie wasn’t wearing a condom. You opened your mouth to speak, but your words got caught up in a moan as Eddie pushed his way inside of you.

The stretch took your breath away. Eddie seesawed his way into your tight cunt, opening you up on his cock until he was balls deep inside of you. He placed his hands on either hip and started moving, holding you tight as he worked up his pace.

Every thrust felt like too much and not enough at the same time. The constant knocking against your sweet spot had you seeing stars quickly, still worked up from him eating you out. The pretty sounds that Eddie was making wasn’t helping either, but you still had enough mind to shush him so that he wouldn’t wake your daughter.

Eddie’s pace quickens, and he makes the fatal mistake of adding his thumb to the mix. It only throttles you to the edge for a second time this morning. It’s not much longer before your vision goes white, toes curling as your orgasm takes over. It's probably the hardest you’ve cum in a long time.

“Oh, fuck.”

You barely registered Eddie’s words, but you definitely felt the reason behind his curses. Eddie was cumming deep inside you, balls emptying into your pussy as you were still riding out your own orgasm.

In the moment it felt amazing, but the post orgasm bliss left you crashing as you realized the very real situation you were both in.

Eddie felt himself being pushed by you, taking him out of his own high as he stumbled back on his ass. As you open your mouth to speak, Eddie is hit with a wave of deja vu with every word.

“Did you fucking cum in me?” The words came out in slow motion and Eddie’s body broke out in cold sweat.

“I-I’m sorry. I was going to pull out, I just—“

“What? You forgot? Are you kidding me Eddie? Do you not remember what happened the last time?”

Right on cue, your daughter's whines could be heard from across the hall. You sigh, kicking the covers completely away from you and grabbing the pajama pants you had back on.

“Listen, I really am sorry,” Eddie says, looking at you with big, sad eyes. You groan, unable to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that.

“What are we going to do then, Eddie?” You ask him, walking out of his bedroom to get your daughter.

Eddie sits on the bed for a moment and thinks. He knows that you getting pregnant again while Autumn’s only and a half isn't ideal. Not that you being pregnant is ideal anyway, but honestly Eddie wouldn’t be mad about it.

He was so head over heels for both you and Autumn that he doesn’t hate the idea of another person to love is the worst thing. But he’s also not the one doing all the hard work. And if it wasn’t obvious the first time that having a kid wouldn’t fix any problems, then having a second would probably not make much of a difference in your feelings towards him.

The door opens again and Eddie watches as you enter with a squealing toddler on your hip, clearly happy to see both mommy and daddy.

“Morning, sweet girl,” Eddie cooes, scooping his baby up and smothering her with kisses, sending Autumn into a fit of giggles.

“I went ahead and changed her. If you want to dress her I’ll make breakfast.”

Eddie gave you a quick salute as you went to the kitchen, leaving him and your mini me to get ready for the day. It took a lot of wrestling but he was able to get the little one dressed, including hair done, and looking presentable for the day.

Fixing her up in her highchair, Eddie sat at the small kitchen table and breathed a sigh of relief. You shook your head at his theatrics, setting breakfast down for the both of them.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Eddie said, spooning some applesauce into Autumn’s mouth. “After we eat, why don’t I follow you to the pharmacy and we can pick you up a Plan B?”

You quirk an eyebrow in amusement. “You have Plan B money this time?”

“Ha ha,” Eddie laughs dryly at your reference to the last time you had sex, the both of you freaking out over having no money. Thankfully Eddie was able to get a good job at Hawkins Auto Body when you got pregnant. He makes pretty good money now considering he was able to get his own trailer. Money is still tight, but he can manage.

“Fine, better eat up then, or else you’re gonna have two mouths to feed instead of one.”

Eddie looks at your daughter, spitting image of him, besides your nose, and smiles. Maybe now isn’t the right time, but…maybe one day.

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 12)

A/N: this chapter is probably my favorite addition of the rewrite :)

WARNINGS: NSFW

Word Count: 5.6k

—————

I sighed as I watched the last of my luggage be loaded into the wagon. I had packed light, because hopefully this excursion would only take two weeks at most. Both Sansa and Loras had packed a bit more, however, for if all went well they would not be returning to King’s Landing.

It was so early in the morning that the sun had not yet risen, and the only people at the entrance courtyard of the Red Keep were the nightguards and the men accompanying us. I regretted that we had to leave so damned early, as I’d wanted to say goodbye to Tywin. 

It made me rather sad, because I hadn’t a clue if he’d even remember me helping him to the Tower of the Hand when he woke up. His last memory of me might be the feast, and he would not see me again for two weeks.

“Are you alright?”

Feeling Ser Elias’ hand at my shoulder, I turned around and looked up at him with raised eyebrows. Processing what he’d said, I instantly nodded.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just rather anxious, I suppose. Quite a lot relies on this going right,” I said with a sigh, holding my arms and trying not to think about how much could go wrong on this trip. Elias nodded with understanding, removing his hand from me. 

“I understand. However, know that if it should go wrong, it is not your fault. If you cannot wager peace, there’s not a soul on earth who would’ve been able to.”

“Yes, well, the peace agreement was also my idea.”

“And one that I consented to.”

Ser Elias and I turned our heads at the sound of another’s voice, and I was surprised to find Tywin approaching us. I instantly smiled, going over to him and meeting him halfway.

“How are you already awake? Do you feel alright?” I questioned, pressing my hand to his forehead and examining him. Even in the darkness he still looked quite miserable. There was no doubt in mind he’d already vomited at least once.

“I feel entirely awful, but I had to come see you off. I told my guards yesterday that they were to wake me early this morning with no exception,” he explained, reaching for my hand and holding it in his. The feeling sent goosebumps up my arm, and I was somewhat flattered by the fact that he was this ill and had still come all the way down here.

“Will you be alright getting back to the Tower of the Hand?” I asked, noting that he had no coat on over his shirt and pants, just a cloak. I was certain he intended to go back to sleep after this. I prayed he would, he desperately needed it.

“I will be fine. My head hurts quite terribly, that’s all. How are you feeling?” Tywin’s free hand came to my arm, and it made me oddly sentimental. I did not want to leave him.

“Nervous, but that’s to be expected. If I tell myself everything I told you, it helps me calm down. I’m rather convincing that way. I just need to focus on rationality instead of my nerves,” I told him, unable to resist the urge to crack a joke as I squeezed his hand. He smiled gently, not enough for anyone else to notice if they were looking. 

“Well, you convinced me, and I had no qualms with the messier route. You are doing a good thing, remember that.”

“But… what if… what if things go horribly wrong, Tywin? What if I give Robb Stark his sister and two war prisoners with her? Then what?” I voiced my fears, for Tywin was the only person I felt comfortable voicing them to. He instantly shook his head, an entirely serious look on his face as he did.

“That is not going to happen. You will persuade the Young Wolf and you will end this war. You are capable of that, I am certain. And, in the impossible scenario that Robb Stark is utterly stupid and decides to take you hostage, I will call every last bannerman and come for you. I will be dead and rotting before any harm is ever done to you,” Tywin assured me, raising the hand on my shoulder to my cheek and holding eye contact as he said it. Somehow, his words were more comforting than I’d even thought possible.

“Oh Tywin…”

I embraced him then, my face pressed against his chest as I shut my eyes and just let him hold me. One arm wrapped around my torso, and the other hand came to my head, fingers intertwined with my hair. I could feel his breath on my scalp, and after a moment his lips too.

“You will return to me, (Y/N), safe and victorious. And when you do, I will hold you just like this. Do you understand?” Tywin whispered, pulling back a bit so he could look at me again. I nodded, giving him a frightened, desperate smile as though I was trying my hardest to believe his words. I needed him to be right. 

He kissed my forehead then, and I wanted to sob. I had just barely admitted to being in love with him, but either way, knowing that I had to part with him for two weeks was impossible to accept. 

“I’m going to miss you, Tywin,” I muttered, looking up at him solemnly. His lips parted, and he looked entirely shattered at my statement. He nodded, closing his eyes.

“I will miss you as well, dear girl.”

We stared at each other for a moment more, but Loras calling my name from across the courtyard made both of us look over. I sighed, knowing it was time for us to leave.

“I will see you in two weeks, Tywin. I will make sure of it,” I said, giving his hand one last squeeze before turning around and going up to my horse. I quickly mounted up, trying my hardest to make the aching go away. 

The large gate to the Red Keep opened, and as our small group began to move out, I looked at Tywin one last time. He only stared, but it was reassuring all the same. The fear dissipated, and in its place came determination. Yes, I would see him in two weeks, and when I did, I would smile from ear to ear as I announced the end of a war. 

—————

It had only been a few days since you’d left, but Tywin was already utterly miserable. He’d become accustomed to your visits in the morning before either of you had anything to do. It was a pleasant way to start his day, and without it he found himself somewhat aggravated. Now he found that it was hard to get work done without thinking about you or wondering where you were.

He had no idea if you were safe, or if you’d reached Robb Stark yet. He suspected not, but it was a small group and would allow you all to move quickly. Still, it irked him to not be 100% certain of your safety and wellbeing. He was glad you weren’t traveling in a wheelhouse, for that would’ve attracted far too much attention.

Sitting at his desk now, Tywin caught himself considering all these things. It was late morning, and he’d be having lunch soon. He could picture you doing the same, sitting with your brother and his wife. He tried not to think about the fact that Ser Elias was there with you too.

There was the frustration again. Tywin groaned as he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling hopelessly. It was a never ending cycle of missing you and wishing you were here, then onto thinking about whatever you might be doing, and finally remembering that Ser Elias was with you the entire time. 

He knew that you were probably right, Ser Elias surely only saw you as a sister or a daughter, but how could Tywin not feel any jealousy at all? The man was six and a half feet tall, not to mention tremendously fit and good looking. It made the Old Lion miss his youth, for once upon a time he wouldn’t have felt insecure compared to a man like that.

Tywin sighed, blinking a few times as he considered just how badly he wished to have you all to himself. Gods, what would it be like to kiss you? To hold your cheek and feel the softness of your lips? He couldn’t even fathom it.

He thought back to the day at the inn, remembering how his breath had caught in his throat at the sight of you in the tub. He hadn’t even meant to look, for he’d never wanted to make you uncomfortable, but gods, you were beautiful.

Tywin hated the way that he thought about you, because he knew that whatever had happened to you as a girl had clearly made you wary of men and their intentions. He could not blame you, and yet somehow even he desired you. It made him feel disgusting, almost as though he was no better than the two soldiers whose tongues he’d cut off.

Of course, it was different. Those men had wanted to rape you, he wished to make love to you. The vision of it was only erotic because Tywin pictured you wanting him just as much as he wanted you. And, it was not as if desire was the thing he could feel when he thought of you. The affection and love had come first, then with it the lust. 

It was odd, for he had fucked whores at various points in his life, but that was merely to relieve his lust. There had been no desire for any of those women, he had simply paid them to make him feel good. He never kissed them, either. But gods, he wanted to kiss you.

That was the difference, he guessed. When he pictured himself fucking you, it was imagining your moans that made his blood rush. Because yes, he could certainly think about how good it would feel to be inside of you, but it was not nearly as attractive as the thought of you being pleased by him. You would look so pretty that way.

Tywin sighed, lifting his head from the back of his chair and looking down to find what he already knew was there. The strain in his pants had grown uncomfortable as he’d allowed his imagination to run wild, and now he simply felt frustrated. 

It had been quite some time since he’d requested a whore from the brothel. Normally just being around you left him content enough to simply touch himself when he grew aroused, but he felt quite insatiable now. Then again, he did not want to fuck a whore, he wanted to fuck you. And thus an idea sparked into his head.

Tywin reached for a blank sheet of parchment, instantly scratching down his instructions on it. He was sending for a whore, though not just any random one. He wanted a girl with your hair color, your eyes, and your height. He pictured every feature of yours perfectly in his head, discovering that if he’d wanted to he might’ve described you in exact detail. But no, the request must be general. Even then, it already was risky enough for him to be doing this.

Before he could think twice, the Lord Hand found himself finishing and sealing the letter. He would take it through the tunnel after he had eaten lunch, and that would be that. He expected a girl would be waiting in his chambers after supper. Somewhere deep down, Tywin knew it would be the last time that tunnel would ever be put to use. It was quite the relieving thought.

—————

Tywin was grateful to be back in his chambers, for he’d just told the king of your plan. True to his word, the Lord Hand informed his grandson about something he ought to know. Unfortunately, Joffrey had not taken well to the news. Tywin hadn’t expected anything less, hence why he’d waited to tell him until after you had left with Loras and Sansa.

But gods, that boy was cumbersome. So much so that Tywin had almost entirely forgotten about the request he’d given to the brothel earlier that day. Entering his bedroom, he was surprised to find a whore there waiting for him. She was still dressed, though only in a transparent fabric, and she had draped herself across the sofa.

Tywin froze as he took in her appearance. In terms of characteristics such as hair and skin, she matched you quite well, but in terms of actual features there was hardly a resemblance. Taking a deep breath, the Lord Hand told himself it was fine. He did not need to look at her face while fucking her, even if he had looked at yours in all his fantasies. 

“My Lord,” the girl greeted, slowly sitting up and giving him a seductive smile. Tywin found that her boldness irked him. You were not timid, to be certain, but he’d found there were some respects in which you were surprisingly vulnerable, and this would certainly be one of them.

She stood from the sofa, striding toward him in a somewhat teasing manner, almost as if trying to trigger some sort of instinct. Standing before Tywin now, she began to undo his coat. He did not deny her, but he did not do anything to encourage her either. 

With her face closer now, he noted that she was similar to you in age, probably in her mid-20s. That made him feel a bit better, at least. But still, when she smiled up at him it was almost aggravating. You did not smile like that. Yours was much prettier.

Tywin began to wonder if he even really wanted to have sex with this woman. She was not you, and you were all he wanted. But then again, he was still annoyed over the conversation with his grandson, and surely it couldn't hurt to blow off some steam this way.

“Would you like to undress me, my Lord Hand?” she asked with a giggle, completely removing his coat and his shirt. Tywin looked down at her, remaining silent for a moment.

“Undress yourself and go sit on the sofa,” he commanded, not a single hint of emotion in his voice as he did. The whore smiled and nodded, making quite a display of herself as she shed the thin gown off. She moved back to her original spot with a very seductive sway of her hips. 

Tywin let himself admire her for a moment, for he couldn’t deny that she was attractive. She had spread her legs as she sat, giving him quite the view. He wished he could see you in such a position; it would be the prettiest painting he ever saw.

Slowly, Tywin removed his boots and then approached the woman. She sat a bit straighter with expectation, batting her eyelashes as she looked up at him. Again, he found himself thinking of you. What might it be like to have you gazing up at him in expectation like this? He could imagine himself brushing your cheek with his fingers and tucking your hair behind your ears. 

He would not touch this whore like that, though. Such intimacy was reserved for you alone. Instead, he merely undid the ties on his pants, pushing them down just enough to free himself. Tywin wasn’t fully hard yet, for truthfully the thing arousing him most was picturing you in place of this woman.

But, either way, he welcomed her to touch him as he stood before her. The whore examined his cock with a smile, instantly reaching from him and beginning to stroke. The sensation was pleasant, but Tywin remained entirely composed until she moved forward a bit and took him in her mouth.

In response to that, he let out a deep exhale, looking down at the top of her head and nearly moaning when he realized that she looked just like you from this angle. Her hair was perhaps her largest similarity to you, and Tywin found himself reaching for it eagerly. His fingers weaved through it, and his grip was firm yet tender. 

The thought of you licking and sucking him this way fully hardened the Great Lion, and his hips involuntarily bucked into the whore’s mouth as he pretended that it was yours. He groaned rather loudly, fighting back the urge to let your name slip from his tongue. 

All sorts of ideas about you began flooding through his head. He could imagine your hands grabbing at his hips, pulling him in even farther. And to have those lips, those soft, convincing lips wrapped around his cock… gods, it sent a shiver up his spine. 

The whore swirled her tongue around his tip, but he did not feel that. Instead he felt you doing it, and he cursed out with utter delight. Of course, he could not entirely convince himself. Had it really been you he would’ve laid you across the sofa and buried his face between your legs already. For some odd reason, he also felt that you would be a woman bold enough to grab his balls while doing this. It was no particular fantasy of his, but the idea of you touching him in any way was absolutely titillating. 

Tywin felt his abdomen beginning to tighten, and he shook his head, opening the eyes that he hadn’t even remembered closing. He glanced down at the whore, removing his hand from her hair. Feeling this, she glanced up at him.

“Enough of that. Get up and bend over,” he instructed, swallowing and catching his breath as he took a step back. He watched the woman do as he’d requested, hands planted into the sofa with her ass raised toward him, and he nodded to himself. Her build was not exactly like yours, which of course served to disappoint Tywin, but it was close enough that—if he were to really put some effort into it—he could convince himself.

He approached her then, one hand grabbing at her hip and the other reaching for his erection. Tywin found his breath catching in his throat as he lined himself up at the girl’s entrance. He simply kept his eyes focused there as he pushed in, imagining how you might moan his name and arch at the feeling of him stretching you this way.

Well, that was what he had been imagining until he was interrupted by the sound of the whore’s moan. Her voice was nothing like yours, and even if he had never heard your cries of pleasure before, logic told him it would be nothing like the sound he’d just heard.

As he slowly began to thrust into her, he attempted to ignore her whines, simply shutting his eyes and enjoying the warmth of the walls around his cock, because even if she wasn’t you, it obviously still felt rather good. Whores were paid for a reason, after all.

Both of Tywin’s hands were on the woman’s hips now, and again he thought of you. He remembered what it had been like to wake up at the inn with his arm wrapped around you, how his breath had caught in his throat when he realized. 

That memory made him thrust a bit faster, and he let out a low moan as he did. The whore replied the same way, though her moans were far louder and much more exaggerated. It made Tywin increasingly annoyed, for not only did it not sound like you, but he knew it was fake. 

This kind of stimulation might warrant a few soft moans or gasps, but nothing like the lusty cries that this woman was currently making. Tywin had enjoyed plenty of late nights with Joanna, and was not ignorant to what actually made a woman feel good, which was exactly how he knew that the current moans coming from below him were entirely exaggerated. 

Attempting to ignore it, Tywin simply shut his eyes again and chased his own pleasure. He wondered if he even should’ve bothered asking for a woman that looked like you, for he was not spending very much time with his eyes open. Well, it had at least been convincing when she’d taken him in her mouth. 

Already thinking of the subject, Tywin found himself imagining how you might moan. More than that, he imagined the way you might gasp his name and shudder as you did. Well, he was trying to. It was hard to do when the whore was quite so loud.

Opening his eyes and looking down at the woman, he decided he’d had enough. Perhaps it was rude, but as he gave the command he did not particularly care. “Hush. Be silent.”

The air felt tense for a moment as the whore silenced herself; she was certainly unaccustomed to men requesting such a thing. Normally, the more she moaned the more they enjoyed it. Well, it didn’t matter. She would stay quiet for the amount that she was being given.

Now that it was quiet besides the slapping of skin, Tywin felt free to give in to his fantasies. He ran his hands over the woman, though really he was running his hands over you. He craved the warmth of your skin, the feeling of you beneath his hands. 

His thrusts became stronger now, and Tywin groaned rather loudly as he gave the whore’s ass a firm squeeze. This was pathetic of him, and he knew that, but his lust for you was so immense that he couldn’t help it. More than that, he simply wished to kiss and hold you. He certainly would not do that to a whore.

Tywin licked his lips, swallowing and breathing heavily as he exerted himself. He could feel his orgasm approaching, and so he leaned over the woman a bit to hit a deeper angle inside of her. However, upon doing so, he inhaled her scent.

He thrusted a few more times as he processed it, but for some reason Tywin could not ignore the perfume she was wearing. It was rather nice, but it smelled nothing like yours did. For some reason, he’d been able to ignore every other difference, but this was his breaking point. He could not ignore just how different from you this woman was any longer, and he sighed out with disappointment—more in himself than anything—as he pulled out of her.

The whore turned her head to look back, confused at what had just happened. Tywin was pulling his pants up, and he walked over to his nightstand to fetch the coin purse for her.

“For your time,” he said, bringing it back over to her. She was sitting on the couch now, feeling rather displaced and anxious. She’d never had a man just full on stop without finishing before.

“My lord, I apologize if I was unsatisfactory. Would you- would you like someone else?” she asked, looking up at him with a sort of embarrassment. Tywin took a deep breath as she said it, shaking his head. He suddenly felt bad.

“No, don’t apologize. It wasn’t that. And I’m fine, thank you,” he said, trying to reassure her without revealing anything. Had he spent a night with her a year ago, he would’ve found it rather satisfactory. But that was obviously very different now. Tywin could’ve been given the most desired whore in the world and he still wouldn’t have been content. 

“Would you like me to be someone else..?” she trailed off, seeing the look in the Lord Hand’s eyes. It wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with a man who was clearly imagining another. Usually they had little shame in moaning other girls' names. 

Tywin only stared at her, handing her the coin purse and then stepping away. She nodded at him, not wanting to push it. She rose from the couch, grabbing her discarded dress and showing herself out through the tunnel. In the morning, Tywin would have a letter sent to seal the thing off. There was no use for it now.

The Lord Hand merely sighed, going to the small table and pouring himself some wine. Surely he was disgusting for this. He didn’t even want to think about how you would react if you knew he’d fucked a whore with you in mind. Again, the guilt came back to him as he considered that perhaps he was like every other man. Gods, it was horrible to love you and want you this way when he was 100% certain you did not feel the same in any capacity. 

Tywin sighed as he set his cup down and made his way over to the bed. He still had an erection to handle, and he supposed he’d get by just fine on his own. He undid his pants completely now, going fully nude and sitting on the edge of the mattress. 

He reached toward his nightstand, pulling out a handkerchief from inside the small drawer so he wouldn’t make a mess when he finished. Though, he wiped the whore’s slick off of himself first. As he did that, however, he noticed your handkerchief still sitting on top of the stand. He had eaten the cookie the morning you’d left, but he had not moved the cloth itself at all. 

An odd urge gripped Tywin, and he set aside the white cloth in his hand and instead reached for yours. He smiled fondly as he examined it, wondering if perhaps your sister or grandmother had embroidered the red roses around the edges of it, for you had once noted to him that you’d never been quite as good at it as them. The first letter of your name was also there in the corner, big and somewhat dramatic. It was pretty, and Tywin liked it. 

He intended to put it back on his nightstand, but a sudden whiff of flowers hit his nose and he instantly stopped. Slowly, with an unparalleled amount of hope, he brought your handkerchief up to his nose and inhaled. 

Smelling your perfume on it, he instantly exhaled and shut his eyes, allowing himself to fully take in the scent. Somehow, the familiarity of it made him feel as though he was holding you in his arms, or perhaps even just sitting beside you. 

Tywin Lannister had never imagined himself being overly fond of some floral scent, but suddenly he could not get enough of it. He found himself burying his nose in this damn cloth, laying back on the bed and getting comfortable as he continually inhaled. He was so obsessed with your scent that he nearly moaned out.

Before he could even fully process what he was doing, Tywin was reaching down with his free hand, taking a hold of his cock. He was practically throbbing now, and the ache for you was so intense that even the slightest pleasure—combined with the rosy perfume filling his lungs—made him shake.

He began to rub himself, slowly at first, as he moaned out. He could picture you sitting beside him, your hair perfectly messy and a smile on your face as you touched him. You would take joy in seeing him become a mess under your hands like this, wouldn’t you? Tywin gasped, handkerchief still pressed to his face.

He forced memories of you saying his name into his mind, his hold on his erection tightening now. He began to rub a little faster, breathing catching in his throat as he looked down at himself. Compared to the warmth of his hand, the feeling of the cold valyrian steel ring made him shudder. The texture of it was almost painful, but you had given him that ring. You had held it in your hands.

Again, he moaned out, still bathing in the scent of roses. In his mind you were still there beside him, watching him moan as you squeezed and tugged. He could see you, naked and beautiful as you tortured him this way. He wanted to kiss you.

He started to rub himself even more vigorously now, a moaning mess as his hips came up to meet his hand. Tywin practically whimpered, and his legs were beginning to shake. It was never like this when he touched himself. The scent of you alone had turned him into this.

“(Y/N)… (Y/N)! Oh gods… (Y/N)…” Tywin applied extra pressure to the tip of his cock, choking out your name with absolutely ecstasy. He could feel every single muscle in his body tensing, as though he were some sort of wild animal.

He found himself rolling onto his stomach, momentarily stopping and reaching for the body pillow against his headboard. With absolute desperation, he lifted himself up for just long enough to push it under him. Once he’d done that, his hand went straight back to doing what it had been before, and he groaned again.

The handkerchief was still against his nose, and with the pillow beneath Tywin, he could imagine himself on top of you. Not only that, but he felt your stomach pressing against his as your back arched, and he saw you throwing your head back with pleasure. 

Tywin moaned as he continued to pleasure himself, not caring at all how hot the room was growing. He was sweaty and tired, but your scent urged him to keep going; he listened quite obediently. 

He was thrusting into his hand—and the pillow as well—with extreme vigor, forehead pressed to the mattress as he panted out. Even if he’d wanted to, Tywin could not keep your name from his lips, especially as he imagined how you might shake and quiver beneath him in the midst of an orgasm.

He felt like a madman envisioning all the ways that he would take you. He wanted you beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist. Or perhaps he would kneel before you, thrusting with your legs over his shoulders. Then he would take you from behind, his hand on your back as your forearms collapsed beneath you out of sheer pleasure. Tywin wanted you on top of him, hips rolling against his as your breasts bounced and he sat up to kiss them. There was the scent of roses again.

Tywin shuddered, for there was too much on his mind. That was not all he wished to do to you. He saw himself inserting his fingers into you, curling and pumping as his thumb rubbed your clit. Surely that would make you sing his name, which was erotic enough as it was. Not only that, but the Great Lion imagined what it might be like to bury his face between your legs, holding them open as they shook. He would feast like a man starved.

Gods, it was a euphoric vision, and he’d found a particularly enjoyable rhythm with his hand. Tywin knew he was close, and his moans had become entirely pathetic, whiny and loud in a way they hadn’t been in years.

Suddenly, his abdomen squeezed tighter than before, his hand clenching around the handkerchief as he took another good inhale. Roses, roses and you. That was all that existed as he felt an all-consuming pleasure in his groin. 

The fresh cloth from earlier was entirely forgotten about, and Tywin did not care whatsoever as his seed spurted from his cock onto the pillow beneath him. He had surely ruined the case, but that was not even a thought to him as he cried your name out, so overwhelmed that his hand was forced to slow itself.

For a few seconds, the Great Lion was entirely frozen, moans becoming quieter and more relaxed as he came down from the peak of his orgasm. He had to swallow and catch his breath, exhaling deeply and blinking a few times to reorient himself. 

Tywin was so exhausted that he nearly fell asleep then and there, but the thirst in his throat forced him to roll over onto his back so that he’d wake up. He glanced over at the pillow, surprised at just how large his spend had been. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d spilled so much.

Your handkerchief was still in his hand, and he stared at it for a few seconds before bringing it to his nose again. The scent had previously aroused him, but now it was comforting. He suddenly wished to hold you, to pet your hair and kiss your head. 

Though, the reality of what he’d just done also hit him and drove utter shame and guilt into the Hand of the King. As if he had not degraded you enough by imagining you when he was with a whore. 

Tywin sighed, sitting up slowly and reaching for the cup on his nightstand. The wine felt good in his throat, not to mention it soothed whatever nerves were gathering in his stomach. He was overthinking now. 

As he laid back in bed and cleaned himself up, Tywin also thought about how you were doing at the present moment. It was weird having no contact with you, and it would stay that way until you arrived back at the Red Keep. At least, he prayed that was what would happen.

He merely sighed as he contemplated, pushing the body pillow off the bed and onto the floor. He slipped under the covers then too, trying to get comfortable. It was extremely late now, and there was no doubt in Tywin’s mind that he’d fall asleep rather quickly.

After all, the scent of roses still hung in the air around him, and he prayed that it would never fade away. Perhaps, for once in his life, the gods would listen.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady 

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul 

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8 

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice 

@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu 

@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart 

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

@thanyatargaryen @rey26 @hexandale @pkawaiidesu5394 @aimsro @gbatesx @lockleysgrl @alicefiresage @stargazingwatercolouredbeing @drwho-ess @mulletmcghee @mamawiggers1980

[auratux]

Opinions on how the Bll characters would react when you tell them that you’re afraid that you’re holding them back? And you know the ‘you deserve better’ insecurities.

omgomg I love this 🥹🫶

includes: Bachira, Isagi, Kunigami, Rin, Chigiri and Nagi

warnings: angst, hurt comfort (if I labeled that right..)

Bachira Meguru

He’d be real sad that you even thought about that in the first place

It makes him think to himself if he never gave you enough reassurance or showed his appreciation to you

He’d want you to tell him why you felt that way in the first place and hopefully, you two could come to an understanding. He was big on communicating.

“I can’t keep holding you back, Meguru,” you whisper pitifully, staring down at your hands that were enveloped in his. “You have to focus on your future.”

“What makes you think that, honey?” He asks gently. His heart aches to see you in this state and wishes he could take all your pain and put it on his shoulders. “Please tell me.”

“You’re so close to reaching your dream and becoming pro and it feels that I’m the one who is stopping you from pursuing and taking the spot on the national team. If it were my fault that you didn’t go, I’d hate myself.”

“Do I make you feel that way..?”

“No!” You shake your head. “It’s me thinking that. I just don’t want to be that person who stops you from doing what you want most.”

“Darling..” his finger curls under your chin, tilting your head up. His yellow orbs staring into your own— your irises gleaming from the tears that fall. “If anything, you’re the reason why I’m pushing to go pro. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be where I’m at. I can’t do it without you. I need you with me.”

“R-Really..? You mean that?”

“Every word. You’re my rock and I can’t do this without you. Please don’t think you’re holding me back. You’re motivating me to be the best version of myself.”

Isagi Yoichi

At first, he doesn’t believe you and thinks you’re joking but once he notices your tear-stained face he snaps out of it.

Isagi knows what it’s like to feel like you’re holding people back — he felt that way years ago when he played with his school team.

He feels that he’s not the best comforter with words but he knows that him being there for you and listening is more than enough — and you feel that way too

"I just can't stand the fact that I feel as if I'm holding you back from what you really want, Yoi. I feel like a burden"

And an arrow pierces right through his heart. His mouth is agape as he listens to you pour your heart out on the couch in the middle of the night. Prior, you were both enjoying a movie while cuddling when suddenly you said that you couldn't do it.

"You aren't a burden.."

"Then why do I feel like one?" you whimper, your sad eyes glaring into his own. "I feel like a failure of a girlfriend who can't even let her boyfriend do what he wants!"

Just like that, you break down in front of him for the second time that night. He hates the position he put you in. He never realized or never intentionally wanted you to feel this way. For all he knew, he felt that you guys were on the same page.

His ray of sunshine that could brighten up any dull room was now surrounded by dark grey clouds of doubt and insecurity.

"come here," he mutters, placing a hand on your shoulder and running it down your back, bringing you close to him. His other hand strokes the back of your head. His lips press against the top of your head, listening to your muffled cries.

"Listen, I know we both know I'm not the best comforter, but I'll always try my best to put a smile on your face. I don't want you to have these thoughts and I'm glad you could tell me. But know, I wouldn't be here without you, and damn won't continue without you."

Kunigami Rensuke

when you approached him with a teary expression he immediately goes into protective mode. who did it? Where were they? does he know them? doesn't matter, he's gonna get to the bottom of it

but when you tell him what's upsetting you, he goes straight to comforting you and relieving you from the doubts surrounding your mind

"I know how much you worked and how far you pushed for this and I feel that you could reach your full potential without me here. I mean, maybe you have to go on without me and start a new chapter..."

"Is that how you truly feel?"

"yes," you whisper pitifully, refusing to meet his eyes. you aren't sure what he's thinking and honestly, you want to keep it that way. it would hurt too much to find out if he's looking down at you with disgust or thinking you're insane.

"look at me."

A small noise in refusal and a shake of your head is your response. He lets out a small sign and scoots closer to you, squeezing your bare thigh. "Come on, don't be that way."

"Why aren't you mad?"

"Mad?" he asks in confusion. "Why would I be mad?" His question now caught you off guard as you snap up to look at him. His eyes soften once he notices a tear trailing down the swell of your cheek and down your chin.

"Because I just implied I'm holding you back."

"So why would I-" he starts then silences. "Do you think this is the most important thing to me?"

"Kinda yeah.."

"No," he lets out a small chuckle, a smile breaking out onto his lips. "you got it all wrong."

"How?" you whisper. "It's basically your dream."

"My dream? Football is dandy and all but it's not going to be here forever. My real dream is to be able to spend every moment with you. You're the most important thing to me. Don't think otherwise."

Chigiri Hyoma

when you tell him how you feel, he feels guilty and gets to the point where he almost starts crying with you.

he wants nothing more than to whisk you into his arms and calm you down and remove those awful thoughts away.

eventually, he's gonna need reassurance in the end since he feels he failed you as a boyfriend

"Are you holding back because you're worried about your leg? Or you don't want to go far because of me?"

That question caught him off guard when you guys were getting ready for bed. Never in his life had Chigiri thought that you would think something as silly as that. At least he never had a reason to think that, unless he gave you that impression.

Once that question was released into the air, it led to a discussion that ended with both of you crying. You were crying because you were apologizing for asking such and felt guilty for even thinking it. He was crying due to your crying.

He hated to see it. He wasn't an emotional guy, he was quite reserved for the most part. It was always guaranteed for him to cry when you did. It was like a trigger for him.

"I'm so sorry, my love. I never wanted to make you feel insecure. In fact, I'm supposed to do the opposite and make everything feel better."

“No, Hyoma, I’m sorry for asking that question. I don’t know what came over me to ask it but I’m sorry.”

His pink locks sway with the shake of his head. His hand brings the back of your head closer to his chest and suddenly you guys are starting to rock back and forth slowly.

“You have every right to be asking questions like that. Please don't apologize for asking. I'm not upset you asked it."

"Are you sure...?"

"yes darling," he whispers, his cheek pressing up against the crown of your head. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing to me?"

"Because I wish I never gave you that impression and wish you can see how much I can accomplish with you by my side. You're not going anywhere. I need you."

Nagi Seshiro

hearing the words come out of your mouth distracts him from his game which results in him turning it off and looking at you in disbelief

he wasn't sure if you meant it actually considering you knew how lazy he was to do anything but regardless, he gave you his full undivided attention

"you deserve better than me."

"There's no one I want. I want you."

you sign, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "you're only saying that to make me feel better."

"Yeah that's kind of what I was going for, but I truly mean it. Believe me. I only want you." Nagi reaches for your hand, tugging you closer to his body. His hand trails down to your waist, giving a gentle squeeze.

"I don't want anyone else wearing my jersey and being my personal cheerleader. It makes me feel like I'm the best player in the world."

"You mean that...?"

"Mhm," he nods. "Without you, I don't know what I would be doing if I'm being honest. I'd probably be cooped up in my room and play games."

"You do that already..."

"Yeah, but this is different, honey. I'd be doing that alone and playing football. Doesn't that sound boring?"

"Well, I guess it does," you mumble, playing with the end of his shirt.

"What I'm trying to say is that there is no one else I want. There's no one who could replace you. You're my everything. I want to do all of those things, with you. Only you."

Itoshi Rin

at first, he doesn't know what to do.

what you're telling him reminds him of how he felt all those years ago with his brother. Unlike you, Rin's support system was no longer present and he wouldn't put you in that same position.

"I'm just confused where you got this feeling from. Am I neglecting you?"

"No, Rin. It's just when I met you, football was all you ever spoke about. Hell, it was practically your life and even after we got together you talked about it when we were alone. I just feel that you can't achieve what you want with me here..."

And there it was.

After his brother had left him behind all those years ago, it still affects him today. He never knew he dragged those feelings with him into your relationship.

No doubt Rin felt anger when his older brother left. He had some regrets and the majority of those regrets were not telling his brother how it made him feel.

Did Rin have to leave you behind in order to grasp his dreams?

Suddenly all those feelings long ago washed over him. Guilt, sadness, and anger welled up in his head to the point where he was even suffocating in his own thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, looking down at his lap. "I never realized I put those thoughts into your head."

"It's okay, Rin. I know you didn't mean it."

"No, it's not okay." He looks back up at you, eyes sadden at your sorrowful expression. He reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "I know how you feel and it's awful. I never wanted you to feel the same way he made me feel."

"Rin..."

"I'm not him," he starts. "I don't want you to leave. I need you here with me. I want you at every game, wearing my jersey and screaming my name. You're my biggest supporter and I wouldn't change it for the world."

[harryforvogue]

i’d DIE for the hurt/comfort trope would you pleaseee feed us some yasmine and harry hurt comfort?? like it’s even easier than for other couples because poor yasmine is hurting 80% of the time 😭😭 if you don’t wanna do it for them because it’s too obvious save the idea for another couples night please!!!

Harry eyes Yasmine holding her fork with a death grip. Normally, he’d laugh about it and ask her what's wrong, but by the way she refuses to take her eyes off her food, he thinks it’s a little more serious than that. Best not to make a joke about her wanting to kill him.

So he puts his own utensils down and waits for her to say something herself. It takes some time, but when it happens, it happens very quickly. One second Yasmine’s cutting into the steak Harry’s prepared for her, and the next, her knife and fork are clattering on the plate and she’s pressing her hands into her eyes, her shoulders shaking. "Fuck!" she whispers.

Harry immediately stands and rounds the table to get to her. “Hey.” He sits beside her, cradling her head. “Yasmine. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

She cries softly as Harry pulls her into an embrace. Despite her moodiness and frustration, it’s rare to actually see her cry. And if she does end up crying it’s out of pain. That is something Harry can handle – it’s fixable. This? This is still new territory.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, kissing her hair. “Whatever it is. We’ll do something about it.”

When she finally starts mumbling what’s bothering her, it takes him a while to piece everything together. He understands that she’s upset at herself for canceling a dinner with her friends and that it’s not the first time. And because she’s done it so many times, she thinks her friend hates her. It’s also that friend’s birthday, which makes it all the worse.

He holds her tighter, bringing his chair so close, she’s practically in his lap. “It’s not your fault,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on her head. “Oh, Yasmine. You can’t control that.”

“It’s just that she always reschedules the dinner for a weekday. If she did it on a weekend, I’d have enough time to feel better between therapy and all, but first she chose a Wednesday.” Yasmine suddenly raises her head. Harry’s heart breaks at the sight of her red eyes. “Wednesday! I need Wednesday to relax! I already hate going to work Wednesday morning, you know?”

“Yes, baby, I know,” Harry murmurs. He runs the heels of his palms over her eyes. She sniffles. "Take a breath, please."

“And then she picked Tuesday. Which is when I go to therapy.”

“Yes.”

“And then last Friday but…” she trails off.

“You went out with me that night,” he recalls.

“And she probably thinks I hate her. And this is how I lost all my other friends. I never saw them. And all my excuses were so stupid and I didn’t want to tell them what was really happening because then people treat me differently and you know I hate when people do that.”

“I know.” He cups her face, tilting it upwards. He presses a few kisses to her cheek. “But, Yasmine, like I said, this isn’t something you can control.”

“I can control it if I take like 5 Advils before I go out.”

“Which I don’t want you to do.”

“I don’t want to either but now it’s been three weeks since her birthday and I haven’t seen her and I’ve only given her excuses, and–”

Harry shakes his head. “That’s okay. You come first.”

“It’s her birthday!” Yasmine argues, tears spilling down her face again. Harry never sees her like this. It’s so difficult to look at her face. “She comes first!”

“I understand it’s her birthday,” he soothes. “But I’m also sure she wouldn’t like it if you had to leave the dinner early because you weren’t feeling well. Wouldn’t it be worse that way?”

Yasmine’s brown eyes remain glossy and utterly devastated. Her eyelashes stick to each other. “If she reschedules, Harry, I don’t think she’ll invite me.”

“Then that’s completely on her.”

She doesn't say anything, letting Harry pull her back into his chest. She wraps her arms around him and cries softly into his shoulder, Harry’s hand rubbing her back gently. 

“I hate it so much,” she says between breaths. “I hate this. I hate it all. I want to be normal and have friends again. I don't want to hurt anymore."

Harry’s jaw tightens and he closes his eyes, fearing they’ll begin to tear up as well. Her voice breaks, long hair unraveling from her usual bun, sticking to her face. He holds her tight as if he’s the glue keeping her together from breaking. She trembles in his arms, and Harry decides that he hates this feeling the most in the world. It’s as if he’s being torn apart from the inside, a brief twinge in his chest.

“Yasmine,” he whispers, pushing her hair off her face. “It won’t always be like this.” He forces himself to look down at her wet face. “Just this morning you were telling me about how much stronger you feel. How usually you get tired by 4, but recently you’ve been making it until 6. That’s progress.”

“I can’t wait for it to get better,” she says, a desperate whimper emerging from her throat. “It’s been years. I can’t take more years of this. Harry. Before you…before you it was so–” She balls her hands into fists. “I can’t do that again.”

“You can,” Harry says. He wipes her face again, his entire palm drenches with the residue. “And when you look back, you’ll see how brave you were. How strong. I tell you all the time, don’t I? You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” He gives her a small shake. “I can only dream of being half as strong as you.”

To his horror, Yasmine only cries harder, hiding her face again. He swears under his breath and holds her wrists, trying to see her face again.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–! Fuck!” He pulls her back into a hug. “I’m the worst at this. I’m sorry!”

Yasmine only shakes her head, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “I love you,” she says into his neck. “And I hate you for that.”

“For what?” He clutches her so tight, she squeaks. “For loving you so bad? Unfortunately I can’t regret that. You’ll have to suffer for it, it seems.”

“For making me cry again!”

“I was trying to comfort you!”

“You did!” She sniffles, taking several deep breaths to calm herself down. Harry could stay here for days, just holding her – minus the crying of course. He could do the rest of his life without seeing a single tear shed by his baby. He wants her to laugh at him. He’ll happily take her brooding over this. He’ll even take her anger. Anything over this.

So to fix it, Harry does the only thing he knows that will make her stop crying. He dramatically clears his throat. “I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new–”

Yasmine groans, melting into his chest. “Please no.”

Their dinner has gone cold. Harry reaches for her plate, about to tell her that he’ll go reheat it for her.

Her phone on the table suddenly begins to ring. Slowly, she unwinds herself from around Harry and reaches for her phone. She returns back to him, crawling into his lap. He loves her weight on him.

“It’s her,” she whispers, panic in her eyes. “Should I pick up?”

“Yes.” Harry tucks her hair behind her ear. “Let’s hear her out.”

Yasmine nods several times, swallowing. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” She answers it, putting it on speaker. “Hi.”

Yasmine’s friend says, “Hi Yas! Good news. I was able to reschedule the dinner plans without being charged so how’s Friday for you? I thought before I made the new reservation that I should ask you.”

Yasmine glances up at Harry. “This Friday?”

“Yup!”

Harry smiles encouragingly and nods. He takes her hand and kisses her palm.

“Give me one second, I’m going to check my schedule.” She scrambles to put the phone on hold. Harry raises his eyebrows mid kiss.

“We made a plan to go out with your family on Friday,” Yasmine whispers, worrying her lower lip. “I can’t go to this dinner. I’d rather–”

“Baby,” Harry laughs softly, holding her chin. “Tell the bloody woman you’ll come.”

“But I promised you–”

“It doesn’t matter. I see you every day and I can’t take you away from your friends.” He runs his knuckles over her cheek. “Go on. It’s okay.”

“Will you be upset with me?”

“Not even in the slightest.”

“Will your parents?”

“No, baby, they’ll be fine.”

She swallows. Then nods. Takes a few breaths. “Hi,” she says when she unmutes the call, “that sounds great. I promise I’ll be there.”

“Great!” her friend chirps. “And hey. You can talk to me about anything, you know?”

Tears form in Yasmine’s eyes again. She pulls the phone away from her to sniffle. “Yeah.”

“I’m just assuming you’re going through something, and I want you to know that even if I can’t help you, I’ll always listen.”

Yasmine’s lower lip begins to wobble again. “Thank you.”

Harry leans in and kisses the corner of her mouth. She then softly says goodbye and ends the call. She shifts her head down and kisses Harry properly. His lips are warm, his kiss the sweetest it can be, and his arms are around her, making her the safest person in the world.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his mouth. The tears slide down her cheeks. “Thank you so much.”

Harry doesn’t have it in him to tell her off for thanking him. Instead, he lets the love he feels for her take over, and he brings her back for another kiss.

[basilone]

can i request... demarco, and scrub or flash please <3

Oooo yes you can! 💙 I'm always up for writing Benny, he's great fun. (Applying a small warning here regarding a war-typical slang term for the Germans, and a slightly bigger warning for descriptions of Meatball having been a skosh under the weather.)

scrub / flash

He’d have been a whole lot madder about this if Buck had looked right as rain.

“Jesus,” he says instead, whistling low through his teeth once he gets a proper look at Buck’s face. “You lose a fight with a big glass door or something?”

Buck’s grimace makes the small splinters of glass sparkle in the light. “Or something,” he agrees. There’s dried blood on his cheeks, where the worst of the splinters still resides. “Crashed into someone’s kitchen. Straight through the window. Had enough sense to shield my eyes, but…”

“Not enough sense to avoid the window, huh.”

“Would like to see you try.”

“I got into a standoff with a couple o’ sheep,” says Benny, feeling at least a little bit defensive about his own dire circumstances here. “One of them stomped on my nuts and it went downhill from there. Fuckin’ Jerries found me by the sound of my squeaking. That shit hurts, Buck. More ways than one.”

Benny’s somewhat pleased to see the flash of deep amusement in Buck’s eyes. Knows there will be jokes about sheep somewhere in the distant future, mentioned when Benny least expects them to be. He can almost see Buck filing it away for future reference even now, though the man’s prolonged grimace makes it hard to tell how many jokes Benny will be subjected to.

“Want me to try and take the glass out?” he asks, already fishing around in his pocket for a cleaner cloth than the bloodstained one Buck’s holding. “That’s fucking unsanitary, you know. Leaving it in like that.”

“They had other priorities.” A slightly ragged huff of breath escapes the man seated in front of him. The glass shards tremble along with the breath. “Like finding out more about that B-17 shipment.”

“You too, huh.”

“Originality is not their strong suit.”

Benny chuckles at that. “They don’t have strong stomachs, either,” he says conversationally while he plucks the biggest shard of glass out of Buck’s cheek. “Mine was eating while questioning me. I made him regret it.” He snorts out a laugh as he wets the cloth in the nearby mug of water. “He was fishing for anything about the base, so I told him I was real fucking worried about Meatball.”

“Jesus, Benny.”

“Hey, not my fault that my dog woke me up with the most explosive case of diarrhea yesterday morning. Like I was tellin’ Investigator Jerry out there,” says Benny, jerking his head at the window, “damn dog crapped all over the bed and over half of me. Whining something fierce about it, too, making more noise than should be legal before dawn. So I said to the guy questioning me, Meatball’s got me all worried like that, like do dogs even get the flu? So I told him how it all smelled and looked, ya know, to get a second opinion?” He sucks in a breath as Buck’s motion almost makes the cut on his face worse. Swats at him with the cloth. “Hold still, there, I didn’t get–”

“Tell me you didn’t just spend the whole of interrogation,” laughs Buck, shoulders shaking slightly, “talking about the damn dog being sick, Ben!”

“I did,” he nods sagely. “We got real deep into it once I managed to explain that I’d had to take three increasingly colder showers to get rid of the stink. He looked real queasy about it. Stopped eating by the time I talked about the fact that Meatball started to sick up once he was done shitting everywhere,” says Benny, grabbing hold of Buck’s chin just to minimize the effect of the man’s laughter on Operation Glass Removal. “So I asked Jerry if he was done with his food, because it smelled real nice after all Meatball put me through, and I reached out to move his tray over to me so I could eat, you know? And that’s when he just cracked, Buck. Never had anyone remove me from their office faster, and I’m countin’ the time Harding asked me about that morning when I got back to base real late.”

“You outdid yourself here.” Buck winces as Benny’s fingers press down on his cheek to get a stubborn piece of glass out. “You were always the best of us at interrogation training.”

Benny shudders a little to himself. “Only because nobody’s scarier than my Nonna.” He eyes Buck critically. “I know you didn’t give them shit, either.”

“Name. Rank. Serial number. Enigmatic smile.”

“Putting Mona Lisa to shame there. Think they’ll try again?”

Buck damn near chuckles at that. “With you? I want to be in that room when they do.”

“Watch and learn, buddy.” Benny grins as he plucks the last shard out of Buck’s hairline. “There. You’re all set for some nice scars.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m real good to you like that. But Buck”– he says, sobering up fast, feeling the lingering knot of frustration tighten in his belly –“the next time I tell you to scrub the flight, we scrub.”

Buck scrapes his throat. “Won’t be a next time, Benny.” He nods at the bunk beds, the scratchy blankets, the uncomfortable everything of being completely trapped. “Look where we are.”

“Next war, then,” he replies, leaning back against his chair in a bid to get comfortable. Tries to ignore the fact that they’re stuck here. That they’re not gonna fly again any time soon. “Somewhere warmer than here. Sunnier. I wanna get real tan, Buck. Africa, maybe.”

“Next war.” A nod. The ghost of a smile flashing up at him from underneath the wet, bloodied cloth. “Sure, Benny, we’ll go to Africa.”

He exhales loudly. Feels the knot in his belly finally loosen, too. “That’d be an honor, sir.”

Buck’s eyes are calm. His hand barely trembles as he holds it out for Benny to shake. “Honor’s all mine, Ben.”

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 5

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger"

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 5: unknown planet

Osha was waiting for him this time when he walked past the storefront. She shook free of her daydreaming when she recognized the gait of the figure strolling by. The lighting did neither of them favors; she could still tell it was him even in the dark, just by how he paused and tilted his head. She waved for him to wait while she locked up.

Yord’s espresso machine crimes hadn’t been the felonies of the last few days, and Osha found she wasn’t as annoyed by them tonight, not when it meant she could see her stranger as he walked by. If the first time was a coincidence and the second time was a choice on his part, this instance was her choice.

She tucked her scarf into her jacket before locking up the cafe. “You know, we really have to stop meeting like this,” she joked.

He had a cut on his cheekbone. Around it bloomed a purpling bruise, meaning he’d gotten hurt in the last day or so. If it hurt him to smile as wide as he did, Osha couldn’t tell. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“Hm.” Osha smiled and tucked her hands in her pockets. “You walking home, or somewhere else?”

“The night is young, Osha Aniseya.”

She was helpless to the frisson of excitement that came from hearing him say her name. “What do you normally do on Sunday nights?”

“Typically, Sundays are my rest days. Otherwise, I’d invite you to train.”

“Well, training’s out. What else do you do to have fun?”

“I fight. I study. Until recently, I trained someone else. I live a fairly straightforward life.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those types.”

They came to a stop at a crosswalk. “What type would that be?” he asked, turning to look at her with amusement.

“A hardass.”

He laughed, long and loud—so deep she could feel it in her bones. “I could be. That’s a highly subjective descriptor. Your sister would call me that if she felt bold enough.”

The mention of her sister had Osha looking away, swallowing back her scowl. “She told me you trained together for two years.”

“What else?”

“That she stopped about two months ago.”

He waited for her to go on. When she didn’t, he tilted his head to the side and frowned. “That was all she told you?”

“When I found out the person I’m closest to had been lying to me for two years, I didn’t exactly want to stick around and hear her out. Some truths are best sipped and not shot.”

“Did you still want to know the whole story?” he offered.

“I think my sister is the last thing I’d like to discuss right now.” Osha trudged into the crosswalk before it turned green. “I think I found a picture of you in the gym today.”

She wished she saw his expression, because when he said, “That’s surprising,” his voice sounded very tight and tense.

“Why’s that?”

“Because some very talented people have done a very good job of ensuring I don’t exist.”

“What happened?” She slowed her pace to walk with him side by side again.

He breathed out slowly through his nose. “I’m surprised you weren’t told. I got the impression it caused quite the stir among members when I left.”

“I wasn’t told anything. I’ve only heard rumors, and there are no mentions of anything online at all.”

“That’d be Vernestra’s doing. A third of her profits go toward marketing and image management. Not just for the gym, but for herself as well.” His voice struck her as aloof, uncaring whether she believed him or not. It was a lie. The tension in his shoulders begged, believe me, believe me.

“How do you know that?” Osha asked.

“I’m the one who risked tarnishing it in the first place.”

I know what it’s like to be cast aside for an injury that wasn’t your fault.

She felt the need to share something of herself, even though what he’d shared was still vague and formless. “I… after Bestine, I noticed someone had taken down a bunch of photos of me in the gym, pulled all the ads, the marquee banners on the website. It was like I had disappeared overnight. Was that—”

“Yeah,” the stranger said. He sounded more engaged now that she seemed to at least humor him. “She went further with me. She scrubbed my name from everything—news reports, tournament results, the photos on the website, like you—everything but legal records. For a while, I had no evidence I existed besides my own pain.”

She shouldn’t have been entertaining this. Vernestra was a pillar in the community and had taken her and Mae in on Sol’s word alone. She’d bought Osha her first pair of gloves and showed her how to balance again after the car accident. 

“Are there any bars open or something?” Osha said, looking around like one would appear out of nowhere.

“I know a place. It’s not far.”

Despite it being nearly 9 p.m. on a Sunday, the place he led her to was crowded. The neon sign outside showed a ringed planet with a big question mark filling the center. On the front window, the operating hours boasted that the bar was open from “moonrise to sunrise,” whatever that meant.

The stranger let her choose where to sit, and she pointed out a place far in the corner by a big fire. Her ankle thanked her for it, even though her jacket and scarf made things sweltering in moments. “Osha,” the stranger said, not yet sitting. “What do you want?”

In the dim red bar lights, she could have answered that question in so many ways. By the way his jaw flexed and his eyes flickered over her body, he knew it.

“Hot toddy.”

His brows went up, impressed. “That sounds much better than what I was going to get. You hungry?”

“Sure. I’m not picky.”

He walked off, and she shed her coat, scarf, and light jacket. Scooting down in the booth, she put her foot on the seat to rest her ankle and knee. It wasn’t as nice as the gigantic stack of pillows she preferred in her room, but it was still a relief.

The fire caught her eye, but she quickly looked away.

She’d never heard of this place before. Above the bar the stranger walked to, a large neon sign declared that the place was called UNKNOWN PLANET. She hadn’t been to a lot of bars, and didn’t if she could help it. Shit, her 21st birthday had been the most awkward experience in her life—her and Mae and Sol in their apartment, sharing a beer like it’d bite them for drinking it. 

It had almost put her off of drinking entirely—which may have been Sol’s goal.

“Hello!” The stranger said at the bar, close enough for Osha to hear. She peeked around the divider to watch him—she’d never seen him speak with anyone else. He was speaking with the bumbling aw shucks persona he’d first blundered into the cafe with. “You uh, have hot water on, right?”

The bartender said something in return that she didn’t hear.

“Two hot toddies, then. And I’ll keep it open, thanks. Could I also do…” Osha couldn’t hear the rest of what he ordered, most likely something from the food menu. She wondered why he felt the need to hide part of himself. If what he said about Vernestra was true, it should have emboldened him to act however he wanted.

“You saving this seat for someone?” a new voice said. A burly man holding a sweating bottle of beer swayed a little at the opening of her booth. As far as she knew, she was the only one in this section, so for this guy to come over wasn’t just luck. He pointed at the booth seat where her leg was propped up.

“I am, actually.”

“Then you won’t mind if I take this other seat,” he said, intending to slip into the opposite booth.

“No, I will mind.” She leveled a look at the man, trying to use small words to convey her meaning.

“What, you don’t want company?”

“Not yours.”

“Everything alright?” The stranger appeared then, holding two mugs in his hands and a murderous look in his eyes. Still, his voice was boisterous and goofy. As much as Osha wanted to see the stranger in action, her pride dictated she get herself out of this mess.

Unfortunately, it meant playing dirty.

“Yeah, babe. Just a miscommunication. He was on his way.” Osha leaned in, grabbed his sleeve, and gently pulled the stranger into the opposite booth seat, already beginning to ignore the other guy. “Bye,” she said lastly, turning and facing her companion with a flip of her hair.

She didn’t anticipate the look on the stranger’s face when she saw it. Until then, he’d always tilted his head down and averted his eyes to show deference or submission in front of her. It was a tactic to make her feel safe. But now, his eyes burned, desire evident in his stare. The cut on his cheek looked black in the red light, making him look ceaselessly dangerous. He chewed his lip idly, an unconscious habit while turning over whatever sticky, hot ideas formed in his head. The steam from the mugs in front of him coiled and curled around his jaw, and her fingers envied how it brushed his skin in tender caresses.

The other guy stomped away at long last. 

“You alright?” the stranger asked, sliding her mug toward her. His voice had dropped an octave or two, and the look in his eyes remained.

“I’m fine. I know how to handle jerks.”

“I know you do.”

“And—” Reality chased back in. “Sorry about the babe thing. It was a cheap way to diffuse the situation.”

“You can call me whatever you want. I’m not complaining.” Like that first night, he took a sip of his drink while it was much too hot for consumption, and again, he didn’t flinch or even blink away from her.

Osha gripped her mug in both hands, holding her breath before exhaling slowly. She shifted in her seat so her leg was straight out in front of her and not bent awkwardly to the side.

“I’m sure working on your feet all day doesn’t feel good.” Thank god, a subject change.

“When it’s slow, I can usually get a stool, but it’s still a bunch of blood rushing to a place with poor circulation.” She abandoned her drink to rub at her ankle through her compression sock, the warmth of her hands a soothing balm to the dull ache.

“It took me a while to stand up straight for longer than a minute at a time.”

Wouldn’t you, if you had your back broken in four places?

“Does it still give you problems?”

“Whose body doesn’t give them problems?” he said with a dry chuckle. “Yes. Typically, if I sleep badly. It only hurts when I’m not moving.”

“Fighting is good for that, then.”

He nodded, and she didn’t realize his mask had slipped until it went right back on when a server brought out two steaming bowls of soup and half a loaf of bread. “Thank you!” he said, voice pitched up. His grin took up most of his face, which Osha supposed was the point of a mask. When the server left, his expression still bore threads of false delight, but it was slipping fast into what she was used to. “Odd choice for a bar, but I swear by it. Lived off this soup for years.”

She tried it, blowing on her spoon just before. From the first taste, it exploded in flavor on her tongue, all at once spicy, hearty, and smooth. He watched her eagerly, wanting to know what she thought. For a guy who held his cards close to his chest, his face always gave him away. “This is perfect, thank you,” Osha said.

The pair fell into a companionable silence. Between the drinks, the soup, and the fire, they lost the chilly winter’s edge quickly. It loosened the sharpness of their conversation in the cold.

“So, you told me you fight however you like. Do you compete?”

“In a sense.” He sat back, just tracing his finger over the rim of his mug. “The state athletics board doesn’t strictly sanction the kind of fighting I do.”

“NHB.”

“You remembered,” he said, a smile touching his lips but not his eyes. “Yeah, no-holds-barred. Street brawling made sure I was fed some nights, paid my rent, kept me clothed. High risk, high payout.”

“You still use different disciplines, ones that are built on rule sets.”

“It’s why I stopped using boxing skills. If someone’s coming at you with a knife, they’re not going to care if you think their legs are off-limits.”

“A knife?” Osha asked, frowning.

“Anything goes on fight nights. Multi-fighter brawls, armed versus unarmed, weapons demonstrations, fastest KO, the organizers are pretty creative. I think I’ve heard someone refer to it as zuffa or vale tudo or shoot fighting.”

“That sounds like a way to get someone killed.”

He shrugged. “Probably. They keep an ambulance on site just in case.”

“I suppose that’s one way to get to that bloodsong you were talking about.”

His eyes glittered with some emotion she couldn’t place. He held her gaze boldly for a few seconds before looking down and away. “That kind of fighting wasn’t what Mae wanted to do, though. I never told her about it.”

It was a relief to hear. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Did she tell you why she wanted to stop training with you?”

“No. I told her she could back out whenever she wanted, and I meant it.” His expression was somber. “I knew it was something to do with the Temple, though. She made her choice, and I won’t offer her the chance again, though.”

“Why?”

“She guessed, generally, who I used to be. My feelings about the Temple and Vernestra Rwoh were enough to point her in some direction or another. But she couldn’t prove it. And as we established, Mae never asked and wouldn’t have believed me if I told her. If she did tell anyone about me, it’s unlikely they’d find me. I prefer it that way.”

Osha turned his words over in her mind as she finished her drink. After setting down her empty mug, she rooted in her pocket for the newspaper clipping she stole from the gym. Without looking at it, she slid it across the table to him. “Then this is yours.”

His eyes softened when he unfolded it. “This is from when I was sixteen.”

“How soon after did you…” Get hurt? Leave? Get kicked out? Become shunned and exiled?

“Less than six months.” He folded the paper and arched his back, straightening his leg to get it in his pocket. The bottom of his shirt rode up, exposing just a few inches of his tummy. It derailed whatever train of thought she had going.

A low chuckle cut off her drooling daydreaming. Heat flooded her face. Caught.

“Um.” Osha laughed nervously. “Anyway, it—”

“Do you often use the gym at the apartments?”

A beat. “Only on my days off. They book me four classes a week for free at the Temple, and I’m typically scheduled to work those days, too.”

“They make you work on the same days you’re meant to train?”

A flash of irritation sparked something in her head, behind her brows. “I’m not a competitor. They’re not particularly concerned with my work-life balance. And I don’t mind, it keeps me busy.”

“Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the—”

“You’re working as hard as anybody else and you’re not up to fight competitively?”

“I mean,” Osha shifted in her seat and rolled her neck, still suppressing the rising frustration with his questions. “I’d probably embarrass them if I went back in, ring rust and all—”

“You don’t honestly believe in that horseshit, do you?” He looked… disappointed.

Osha didn’t answer. An ice-cold focus had glassed over her face into a calculating, hardened stare. Whatever he saw in her eyes wiped that disappointment from his face and had him sitting up straighter. Some vicious, clawed part of her remembered how he told her sitting still and straight felt uncomfortable to him.

The bar lights washed him out a little, but she didn’t miss the way he paled slightly at the intensity of her stare. She leaned in, folding her hands on the table.

And then he did something she didn’t expect.

He groveled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out that way,” he babbled. As he went on, he started to sound a little like the buffoon he showed everyone else—how much of that mask was false? “It’s just, you’re 26 years old. You have injuries that can get fully rehabbed, but they’re being treated like clipped wings. I’ve seen you fight, Osha. I’d love to see you fight again. Call it selfish of me; call it what you want.” His voice grew in composure from where she’d rattled him. “But you’re still a lion, as much as they want to make you believe you’re a housecat.”

He sat back, wincing a little and breathing out. She immediately felt bad for pressing him into an uncomfortable posture, but she couldn’t help sitting a little higher herself. Nobody had ever truly noticed they’d overstepped around her until him. 

She didn’t even have to kick his ass to get an apology.

“Are you trying to get me to train with you?” she asked bluntly.

His mouth twisted into a funny little half-tilt, tugging the cut on his cheek closer to his eye. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes, I can.”

He laughed, eyes dropping to the table—no, he was still looking at her. Since she told him to sit down with her, his eyes had only left her when he blinked. Silence fell between them, and Osha felt acutely aware of where his gaze was, tracing the defined muscles of her arms as she leaned on them against the table. The stranger’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips in a way that felt like she’d been shot or something. His fingers traced up and down the slight curve of the empty mug in his hand.

Damn, she hadn’t been breathing for a long while. She inhaled a shuddering breath. “I think I should get home soon. Walk me there?”

“Well, since we’re going to the same place…” he said, voice tilted up playfully. “I’ll get the tab.”

He slid out of the booth and she started re-layering herself to brave the outside—

A touch to her inner wrist. Graceful fingers led to a muscled arm belonging to the stranger. She froze, looking up at him.

His face looked mildly tortured, which made sense when he said, “I am sorry. For upsetting you earlier.”

Osha wrangled the urge to give compulsory dismissals, her ingrained oh, that’s alrights and it’s not a problems. Instead, she felt pride bubble in her chest, knowing she was worthy of being apologized to, even for the small things. She nodded at him, and his thumb pressed softly on the sensitive skin of her wrist before he let go and walked to the bar again.

She was so utterly fucked.

CHAPTER SIX

[frozenjokes]

In my little analysis about the new chapter of the Mumbomaid fanfic has finally reach a conclusion within the council in my head.

I don’t think that Mumbo will do the actions of grown up (sexual/horny?) nature that Scar has fantasies about.

Mumbo knows he is big, he knows is dangerous to humans, he knows that they (Grian and Scar) are far more fragile than himself. He probably will be the more “dominant” one by the fault if the scenery did happen, thought.

But he will try his best to be the gentlest mermaid that has existed ever, since he doesn’t one to hurt the ones he loves. The kind-of aggressive and very dominant behavior that Scar told Grian is very unlikely to happened by the previous mentioned reason.

But since Scar (and Grian too) are aggressive-horny and kinda kinky, they might try to come to agreement with Mumbo that is okay to be a little aggressive sometimes, that they like it, but this would be unsuccessful since Etho would refuse to translate that conversation.

he has no penits

that’s a joke but it’s also not lmao also the idea of them trying to get etho to negotiate any of their sexual boundaries/desires is so fucking funny to me I think he would literally rather die. he’d rather run away with joel and never see any of them again. they make him so homophobic. etho is so utterly sex repulsed even being asked to facilitate that conversation would probably kill him instantly.

scar loves fantasizing for fun it is his favorite activity. ideal world for scar is getting swept off his feet by a sexy fantasy monster or just like. reading fanfiction. same affect. irl he’d probably rather not be under the threat of death <3 live laugh love. he should try writing sometime it would be bad but I support him.

anyway I have been thinking about what mermaid anatomy in this au is like for months (for reasons.) and I believe they are some kind of hermaphrodites and when it comes to genitalia or whatever I don’t think anything compatible is happening with human bodies. Though in a mumscarian endgame future (which. We’re making our way.) I imagine after all these concepts are explained Mumbo wouldn’t be opposed to participating. He likes to be around and learn things and he’s interested in human customs and activities, biological or otherwise! He has zero skin in the game but hey, his humans are really happy he’s here, and he’s just happy to be included! Even if being included is just sitting there. Maybe holding a hand. All :] about it. Just as wholesome as you can possibly get when right next to him those two idiots are being unbelievably nasty.

Though on a different note, Mumbo would at this point be learning English! I do think he and Etho would develop a somewhat close relationship, and I imagine Etho has already started teaching him some very basic tenants of English, as well as random words Mumbo wants to know so he can finally call his friends insufferable.

Etho had a bad experience learning English because Joel was an asshole about it, but I think being able to teach Mumbo something in a way he wished he’d been taught could be really cathartic for him, and might help heal over some of those bad associations he learned from Joel. It will be good for both of them. Of course Mumbo will also help smooth out some of the rough edges of Etho’s occasionally spotty mermaid speak as well. They r best friends to me. Very good pals.

More rambling, but I’d love a future where etho wants his best friend Bdubs and his best friend mumbo to meet. He wants to put his friends in a little box together so badly and shake them around. Watch them. Observe. That would require Etho to tell Bdubs the truth first though, and uhhhhhhhnhhhhhhhh. etho needs like a lot of therapy. like a lot. before that would ever happen.probably

[bullet-prooflove]

Night Terrors - Herman Kozik x Reader

GIF is not my own

Tagging: @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @words-and-seeds @danzer8705 @yourwinchesterbros @mysoulisasunflower @redpoodlern @theplacewhereallthedemonsgo @trublu2u

Trigger Warnings: Discussion of Suicide, Grief Counselling, memory of Suicide.

Throughout his time with you Kozik learns that you don’t sleep well. You stay up to all hours of the night reading, researching, scribbling things down in that A5 notebook you carry around. He jokes that you’re making good use of your sabbatical. He still doesn’t know the reason behind it, you tell him additional learning opportunities, that you wanted the ability to explore other avenues outside of the grief counselling work you do. He thinks that something must have happened before you met him, something that haunts your dreams and dogs your steps.

When you do sleep, you have nightmares. Terrifying, devastating things that leave you breathless and on edge. He doesn’t know what you’re running from but he’s there for you in the aftermath, holding you close, whispering into your hair. He tastes the salt on your cheeks when he kisses away your tears.

You’re starting to spiral, he sees it. He knows a thing or two about losing yourself, the insidious way your life starts to slip between your fingers, because you can’t process the reality of the things you’ve seen. It gets hard to feel anything at all.

He thinks that’s why you took him to bed in the first place, you needed something other than the darkness that swallows you up inside. It may have started as a distraction, but he knows it’s become more. The first time you tried to fuck him he slowed it down, because you aren’t just a girl he can tap and walk away from. He’d treated you like someone who meant something to him, because honestly you do.

He's shared a thousand mornings with you since then and he can tell it’s getting worse. You sit at his table, your chin resting on the knee you've drawn up to your chest. Your palm smooths over the newspaper, fingertips tracing over the headlines. He watches you as he waits for the coffee to brew in the french press. There’s a sadness in you, it runs so deep that even that he can’t touch it.

“You never tell me what you dream about.” He says quietly, his arms crossed over his chest.

He can’t force you to talk, he doesn’t want that. He wants you to give as freely as he does, he’s been open with you about his addiction issues, about what he saw during his time in the Marines, the shit he’s done for the club. He hopes you’ll follow his lead.

“One of my clients…” You trail off, he can tell you’re struggling to find the words, so he lets the silence sit, he gives you the space to search for them. “He killed himself a couple of months ago. I found him, swinging from the light fitting in his lounge.” You swallow hard, your eyes rimmed with red as you gesture towards your neck. “He’d used duct tape, so even if he’d changed his mind, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it.”

“Christ…” Kozik says approaching the table and crouching down in front of your chair. His face is level with yours as he clasps your cheek, his thumb tracing over the blush of your cheekbone. “You know it’s not your fault, right? Some people, they’re just in too much pain.”

“That’s the thing.” You laugh, it’s bitter sound that tears through him because he knows how much this fucking hurts. “I was ready to sign him off. There were no red flags, I thought he was doing better, handling his shit and then he left me this voice message, telling me I was a great counsellor, that I’d done everything right and I just knew…” You trail off because it’s too much, you’re back in that place.

You see Tony’s shoes hanging two feet from where they’re supposed to be, the kicked over stool that he used.There’s two photographs propped up on the coffee table facing him, his wedding picture with Tricia, and the one from Mother's Day with her and all three of their boys.

It’s Kozik’s voice that brings you back to the present, his thumbs wiping the tears from your cheeks as he looks at you with eyes that show a depth of understanding that comes from a lifetime of pain.

“You know this is killing you right?” He asks you, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “That if you keep going down this path…”

“I know where it ends.” You tell him.

“I don’t want that for you.”

There’s a sincerity in his gaze. He hasn’t said it yet but he’s in love with you, he has been since you turned up at his door asking for your ball back, but he can’t fall back into old patterns, seeing you continue down this road will kill him, send him straight back to shooting up coke.

“I need you to promise me…” he tells you, his thumb ghosting along the line of your jaw. “I need you to promise me you’ll get some help because I can’t be around this if you don’t, and I want to be here for you…”

“I know.” You whisper, your hand coming to rest upon his shoulder, squeezing it. “This helped, talking about it… I haven’t been able to do that, not since it happened.”

Kozik has seen it before. Some of the guys he was deployed with, they survive that shit, they make it home and they don’t talk about what happened over seas, they let it eat them up until there’s nothing left and they’re staring down the barrel of the gun, with a bullet in the chamber and their finger on the trigger.

“It has a way of isolating you.” He says knowingly. “Of becoming this thing that’s too big to even think about because when you do, it’s like tearing open the wound all over again. You have to take it piece by piece, day by day, make it manageable. Isn’t that that what you tell people the people you work with?”

You’re surprised by how closely he’s been listening to you, how much he’s absorbed, he can tell. He thinks you aren’t used to having somebody around that you can lean on, that actually cares about you and the things you say.

“You think you can do that for me?” He asks you, his vivid blue eyes studying yours. “Talk to someone about it, break it down into little pieces, take it a day at a time?”

“Yea.” You tell him, giving him a shaky nod. “Yea I think I can do that.”

Love Kozik? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cptbites]

Shadow Creature Graves and Captain Price

Price’s reaction to finding out how old Graves really is! Maybe with an explanation of Graves knowing he’s immortal and how he’s “tried to die” before

-Captain

this was so fun to write genuinely :3c warnings - graves talks about someone hurting him, not graphically but idk it's there and general talks of death (obv)

🎏

It wasn’t a surprise to wake up early in the morning with the sun just barely rising. It was a part of Price’s job and he expected nothing less. There was a new addition to his routine that he’s been trying to adjust to, which was Graves. Though, the creature was nowhere to be found in the room. With a groan, Price got out of bed, as per usual, and did his morning routine that he has done for the many years. Make his bed, use the bathroom, brush his teeth, get dressed, exercise, shower, change out and go into his room for some downtime.

When Price got back to his room after finishing his cool down stretches, he was welcomed by the smell of savory food and his beloved little shadow creature eating a bowl of greens and vegetables whilst sitting on his bed. In front of Graves was a tray full of plates of sausages, eggs, bacon, and a cup of black tea.

Graves perked up, “oh, you’re back.”

“Good morning,” Price replied, placing the cup on the drawer and sat on the opposite end of Graves.

“I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed but you already got out when I came back,” Graves said as he forked some lettuce in his salad.

“Should really get better at time management,” Price said playfully, grabbing his own plate and eating.

Graves pouted, “not my fault that I don’t keep track of time. It all becomes a blur when you get older.”

“Speaking of getting older, Soap’s birthday is next week.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, didn’t really notice until I checked my calender.”

Graves hummed, “how old is gonna be now?”

Price shrugged, “don’t know. I don’t really care to know as long as he’s still alive and breathing. Thinking about what kind of gift I’d give him.”

“I’m sure if you gave him a party popper he’d be delighted.”

“Maybe.”

There was a comfortable silence as utensils collided with their dishes. Price bite off a piece of slightly cold sausage before a question spawned in his mind.

“Now that we’re on the topic, how old are you?”

Graves laughed before answering, “I don’t know,”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know my age,” Graves shrugged. “Contrary to popular belief, we immortals don’t count the years on how old we are. Just know that I am older than you are. Much older.”

“Well, if you had to estimate what would be your number?”

“I don’t know, probably a couple centuries.”

“And you call me old,” Price joked before he took a bite out of his food.

Graves made a nonchalant gesture with his hands. “I just follow the script of what everyone else says,” he said with a smile.

“Immorality.”

“Yes?”

“What’s it like?”

There was a pause in Graves’ physical language. Then his eyes lowered down to his platter as if the vegetables were telling him something, digging deep into the history book of his mind. Price could feel the shift of the atmosphere in the air, silently hoping that he didn’t accidentally push a button he wasn’t supposed to. The last thing he needed was to worry about Graves when he had to go work in less than an hour.

“Paradise for humans is usually to live forever, but many don’t realize how double-edged the sword is,” Graves started. “Immortality is very traumatizing.”

“What’s your earliest memories?”

Graves placed down his platter on the tray, his hand brushing over his lips as his eyes drew themselves in a concentrated manner. There were a few beats of silence before Graves slightly perked up again.

“I remember being in a forest.”

Another beat of silence.

“Then I remember running away from a man. I don’t remember who he was or what he looks like but I remember— I remember I was running away because he knew what I was,” Graves’ turned his head slightly so his hand could lightly brush over the scar on his face.

Price intently watched Graves. The eyes of the creature in front of him looked so similar to ancient stars. Aged and refined with hints of eyebags and wrinkles around the end of the corners, but still beautiful as the day he had found them. Price studied him, wishing that deep down, he could capture this moment of how Graves looked despite the inappropriate topic that clashed the adoration of feelings.

“I got caught,” Graves said, lost in thought. Maybe a trance of looking through his memory. Price could only guess. Graves didn’t look smokey, but there was something hidden underneath that felt like there were chains and locks on it, keeping him out.

Graves’ hand then lowered down to his neck as he recalled events, “he tried to hang me. Tied me to a tree and left me there for a while. I don’t remember much, just remember that I hated the feeling of not being able to breathe and that it hurt like a bitch.”

Price could see scarring on his neck, something that was always covered by hoodies or his gear.

“And when he came back and realized that I was still alive, he made the noose tighter.” Graves tore himself away from the memory, blinking a couple of times before he shook his head lightly and smiled, “then Maurie found me and she was horrified. I mean, like, I don’t blame her, especially if there was this small kid just suffocating choking from a rope tied around his neck,” he forced a laugh.

“You’ve mentioned Maurie before,” Price said.

“I have?”

“Mhm. Talked about her briefly once.”

Graves hummed, “she taught me how to be human. I don’t know why she took me in or why she wanted to help me because she definitely knew what I was but she taught me how to pretend to be human. I vaguely remember she was worried about the bleeding from how bad the noose rubbed my skin raw, and how it might become infected.”

“Maybe because you were just a kid.”

“I was only what creature equivalent to human 12 year olds are.”

“You were still a kid.”

“Didn’t feel like it.”

“What did you do after she passed?”

Graves looked to the side, his hand reaching to his lips as his brows lowered. There was a moment of silence before he spoke, “I don’t exactly remember. I just remember it had something to do with water, found out I was immune to both suffocation and drowning.”

“Are you immune—”

“Yes.”

“Everything?”

“Everything. Tried everything whether by choice or not.”

Price paused, his platter of food on his lap felt out of place as Graves maintained eye contact, “by choice?”

“There’s not a lot to live for when you’ve already lived for everything,” Graves said calmly. “Don’t take it personal, Captain.”

Price felt estranged from Graves. The conversation he treated like it was simple everyday talk while Price was still wrapping his head around the many possible ways that Graves may have try to die. There were many ways that Price has seen people die, shootings, stabs, blood loss, suffocation, decapitation, burning, many more. It only brought more questions to his mind, especially if Graves knew many more than him.

“Did they hurt?” Price asked.

“Of course they did,” Graves shivered. “Broken bones, mangled limbs, severe burns, even having your head chopped off. Everything always hurts when you’re constantly conscious. Never gets any easier, just grows more familiar.”

“I’m sorry you have to—”

“Don’t.”

Price closed his mouth. He had already dug deep within Graves’ feelings and vulnerability. He knew he shouldn’t pry no matter how curious he was on the inside. The conversation landed on silence as Price continued eating as much as he could before he had to attend to his duties. Graves wasn’t upset, but rather looked calmer. Before the captain had to leave, he gave his creature a forehead kiss before leaving the room.

[just-b-wilde]

Part of a scene from the latest chapter of Beyond the Apocalypse

Honestly, I can imagine their conversation would have been similar if they had the chance.

"Were you ever planning to tell me about this?" Diego finally asked.

"About what?"

"Everything. If I hadn’t noticed your bracelet—" he glanced at her wrist, where she was still wearing it, his lip curling slightly, "—would you have told me what happened, or was it meant to stay your little secret?"

"Diego," Lila sighed.

"What? Don’t I have the right to ask?"

"Of course, I planned to tell you, but not at the front door of our house, and definitely not in front of the entire family during the holidays. I wanted to talk to you calmly, just the two of us, when I’d had a chance to process it myself."

"So, it’s my fault, then? For catching you off guard?"

"I’m not saying that, but you didn’t exactly give me a choice. If I’d said I didn’t want to talk about it, you would’ve pushed harder and accused me of who knows what."

"And rightfully so. I had a feeling something was wrong, and I was right."

"Yes, something happened, and I told you how it happened. But you’re treating it like some fling from the last week, while for us, seven years passed, Diego."

"So, you slept with him," he said, almost hurt. It was as if he’d been holding on to some shred of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t come to that.

Lila sighed again, but before she could respond, Diego pressed on.

"How many times?"

"You’re joking, right?"

"I’m not."

[ Full chapter | First chapter ]

[virgo-mess]

Silver Thread Chapter 6 part 3

I'm sorry this took me so long to write. I'm launching right into Part 4 as I post this, so I'll hopefully have the next part up in the next two days. And we'll finally get to her surprise in that part. I'm not fully satisfied with this part and could end up editing bits for my sanity, but it shouldn't change anything plot wise. I didn't want to leave you waiting any longer 🥲.

TW: Mentions of Neglectful Parents, Consensual public fondling, heated kissing, some fluff, some humor, Veda and Terry just being adorable, mentions of spunky redheads and teen girls that circle in on Terry like a pack of wolves

Veda’s Pov

Veda wasn’t sure how she didn’t notice that what she was feeling for Terry was love but something in the way he said those three words to her put everything into perspective. Everything clicked into place, and it was like her whole world made sense again. She now knew why she wanted to spend all her free time with him, why she missed him so much when he was away from her for more than hour, why he occupied all her thoughts and dreams, and why she desperately wanted to know all his thoughts and dreams. It’s why she feels so warm, so safe, so happy, so content whenever Terry is with her. It’s also why she feels so much empathy towards him and why his mildly predatory kinks don’t bother or scare her anymore. She supposed the reason she hadn’t noticed she was truly in love with Terry was because she hadn’t felt anything like it before. Up until now she had been under the impression that Dutch was her first love, but it became apparent to her that he was merely her first boyfriend and what she felt for him was fake love. She couldn’t recall ever actually enjoying being with Dutch because everything with him came with a price, a condition, a hurt. If she dared to cry in front of him about “joke” he made at her expense, he’d yell at her telling her she was too sensitive and couldn’t take a joke. He made her feel like everything was her fault constantly, if he hit her it was he fault for making him mad and when he cheated it was her fault for being a prude. Whereas Terry just gave her everything he possibly could without expecting her to be anymore than she already was. He didn’t try to change her and had her feeling like the most beautiful woman in the world and he treated her as such.

Veda and Terry strolled through the Natural History Museum clinging to each other as Terry opened up to her about his family and his experiences in the war. Veda listened intently feeling nothing but endless waves of warmth, empathy, and love as he told her about his troubled relationship with his father. As they stood in front of one of the displays in the dimly lit African and North America Diorama hall, a warm amber glow dancing on the side of his face as he spoke to her quietly. Veda couldn’t help but see him as an unsung romantic hero as she began to understand some of the more callous tendencies he had in the beginning stages of their relationship. The warm amber lighting made her feel like they were caught up in a movie.

“My dad and I have just never really gotten along; I don’t even think he really likes me he just likes having someone to control. I only enlisted during Vietnam to get away from him for a while, he wanted me to take over Dynatox because I didn’t think that’s what I wanted to do. I thought it might make him respect me a little more since I was pretty scrawny back then. All it did was make him resent, he still forced me to take over the company, and then the war just made living really hard for me after that, you know. I saw some unspeakable things,  I did some unthinkable things to survive and sometimes I relive it. It’s not so bad now that you’re around though, you keep me calm and make me very happy baby girl. Don’t know what I’d do without you, you’re the most important person in my life and I love you so much” he said with a genuine smile, Veda blushed feeling her heart flutter at his words leaning up to pull him into a brief tender kiss.

“I’m really sorry your dad is so hard on you all children deserve to feel loved by their parents, the state of your relationship isn’t your fault, Terry. I will be more than happy to chew him out on your behalf no questions asked just give me a time and place and I’ll set him straight the Jersey way.” Veda said kittenishly with an impish grin. Terry bit down on his lip looking at her with lust swirling in his eyes pulling her closer to his chest. Veda felt her cheeks flush at the action her mind reeling back to that day in his office weeks ago; part of her really wanted to feel him grip her that possessively again. The lighting really was doing wonders for them right now, all they needed was a delicate piano score swelling around them.

“You don’t know how much I’d love to see that baby girl” he murmured huskily leaning down to place opened mouth kisses on her neck. Veda let out a breathy giggle feeling a wave of arousal wash over her, she glanced around to see if anyone was watching them happy to see they were the only ones in the large hall at the moment. Veda nudged Terry slightly waiting for him to remove his face from her neck, Terry instantaneously pulled back probably assuming she wanted him to stop. He gave her a soft smile as Veda gazed up at him sheepishly before leaning in to whisper in his ear even though no one was around. Feeling incredibly shy because she’d never asked someone to touch her in this way before. Terry sensed her nerves and ran his hands in soothing circles on her back.

“What is it baby, you know you can ask or tell me anything” he said reassuringly, placing a tender kiss on her temple. Veda found her body relaxing but still stuttered getting the words out.

“Can you um, do what you did in your office, you know when you carried me in there. I uh, actually liked that…” she trailed timidly, turning her head to look up at him as she placed her cheek on his chest. Terry’s eyes softened as he looked down at her reaching to stroke her hair.

“You don’t have to be shy sweetheart” he said leaning down to give her a sweet kiss on the lips, Veda let out a content sigh feeling instantly comforted at the action as he pulled away to look at her. “Which part did you like, the pat or the squeeze” he cooed, Veda bit her lip slightly.

“Both” she said coyly watching as Terry’s lust filled eyes lit up, pulling her in for a more passionate kiss as he trailed one of his large hands to her ass to do exactly what she requested, alternating between firm pats and squeezes. Veda let out a soft sultry moan against his mouth feeling her clit throb as he hardened against her stomach, Terry let out one of his pleased rumbles before parting for air never letting up on his firm grip. Glancing over her shoulder for a moment.

“I’m really glad you like this baby girl because your butt has been driving me crazy” he crooned, placing kisses down her neck and shoulder, Veda giggled nuzzling her face against his shoulder before pulling back to look at him with rosy cheeks. Suddenly remembering that they strayed far away from their initial conversation, she reached up to cup his face stroking his cheeks with her thumbs as she looked deeply in his eyes. Terry’s eyes softened again as he placed his forehead against hers.

 “I’m sorry you felt like you had to enlist to prove yourself to him, I know that must have been really hard for you, people didn’t treat the soldiers coming home with the amount of grace or compassion they deserved. I know was just a kid when it ended but I remember seeing how the ones returning home to Jersey being spit on and being called baby killers. I can only imagine how that felt for you but I’m glad that you’re as happy being with me as I am with you, I love you too Romeo” Veda said with a tender smile, Terry beamed back at her before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. Veda giggled scrunching her nose up intentionally because she knew he adored it.

“You’re so sweet, my angel. Maybe we should head over to the science center, people are starting to pile in here. You know USC isn’t far from here we could go take a peek at the campus if you want” Terry coaxed with an alluring smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes, Veda narrowed her eyes at him playfully.

“Are you hoping that taking me to see the campus will entice me into accepting your outrageous offer, Mr. Silver” Veda said playfully rolling her eyes at him, Terry put his hand over his heart in mock offense and looked down at her with big innocent puppy eyes.

“Now why would I ever do that baby girl, I just thought you’d like to admire the Romanesque Revival style buildings, they’re beautiful. Not that CalTech isn’t prettyish” he said with another alluring smile. Veda shook her head at him playfully before grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers.

“I’d rather see the space shuttle and then get some food in my belly. I’m hungry” she said quickly changing the subject, hoping Terry wouldn’t press her further on the matter. Terry had already spent so much money on her in the last couple of months and she still felt a bit guilty for accepting any of them. Veda still felt like she wasn’t worthy of his grand romantic gestures to some degree they just reminded her they weren’t on the same level. She still had that lingering fear Terry would come to his senses and drop her once they took their relationship to the next level; him assuring her he loved her unconditionally gave her a bit more confidence in the nature of their relationship.

Veda pulled Terry out of the museum with her, gripping his hand a bit tighter at the thought of their relationship ending. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to pick herself back up if it ever did end. She felt Terry start drawing soothing circles on the back of her hand on their short walk over to the Science Center.

“Are you okay baby girl?” he asked, placing a kiss on her cheek. Veda looked up and gave him a soft reassuring smile as she nodded her head, she felt this conversation was better suited for another day they’ve had so many heavy conversations today. Deciding just to give him the short version for now and leave the heavy stuff for later.

“I’m okay, I just need some more time to think about USC Terry. I’ll let you know how I feel closer to the end of fall term, last day of classes is December 1st. Then I can make sure I end the winter and spring terms on a high note” she said with a coy smile, Terry beamed at her pulling her in for a passionate kiss that left her feeling dizzy. Terry pulled away and took a moment to pepper her face with adoring kisses. Veda giggled at his at his adorable display.

“I didn’t mean to sound pushy baby girl I just want to take care of you. Seeing you happy makes me happy so lets head on in and see that shuttle so we can get some food in your stomach” he said placing another kiss on her forehead before tugging her into the museum.

After leaving the Science Center they shared a quick intimate brunch cuddled up in a booth being as lovey-dovey with each other as ever. Veda sat on Terry’s lap as usual and he insisted on feeding her again but wouldn’t let her return the gesture, reminding her that today was all about her being treated like a princess. By the time they were headed back to the car Veda was quite full and slightly drowsy, leaning into Terry slightly as they left the restaurant.

“Do you wish to be carried, birthday girl” he cooed in her ear, Veda giggled rolling her eyes at him, the car wasn’t even that far away. Although she loved him doting on her so much today.

“No the car isn’t that far, where are heading next Romeo, my surprise perhaps” she trailed battering her eyelashes at him, Terry chuckled catching on to her trying to get information out of him again. Terry opened the car door for her like usual, shutting the door gently before hopping in the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

“No, your surprise isn’t until tonight Veda and I’m not telling you what it is because then it wouldn’t be a surprise would it. We’re heading up to Beverly Hills now to check out the Virginia Robertson Gardens, LA County Museum of art, and the La Brea Tar Pits before checking into the hotel. Unless you want to go to the hotel first and rest for a bit baby girl, you do look tired” Terry said giving her a warm smile as he placed a hand on her thigh, Veda gave him a warm smile in return.

“I appreciate you being so attentive and thoughtful my love, but I should be alright. What hotel are we staying at?” she asked, placing her hand on top of his and drawing circles on the back of it. She let her head rest back on the seat deciding she might just doze off for the twenty or so minutes it would take them to get there.

“The Beverly Wilshire, in the Wilshire Presidential suite sadly the Beverly Hills Hotel was all booked. I thought you’d look so pretty sat up in Marilyn Monroe’s bungalow in one of your cute little sets or nighties” he said pouting, Veda looked back at him with wide eyes in disbelief. “You’ll look just as pretty at the Wilshire of course baby girl” he crooned.

“Are you crazy Terry, those are the most expensive hotels in Beverly Hills I would’ve been just as happy sleeping in the car, you know” she said with an exasperated sigh and a yawn. Terry chuckled rolling his eyes at her.

“I thought we established that I am crazy Veda, crazy for you my sweet girl, so I will continue spoiling you regardless of what you say. You are never ever sleeping in a car, do you not watch the news the Night Stalker is still at large, we really need to talk about moving you to a safer area. I get so worried when I leave you there alone” he said looking at her with genuine concern swirling in his eyes, Veda tightened her grip on his hand in reassurance as she looked at him lovingly.

“I was just joking about sleeping in the car, Terry and you don’t have to leave me alone. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted to stay in my shack, you should be happy I chose to get an apartment anyway otherwise we would be cuddled up in a dorm room with little to no privacy ” she said teasingly the lack of privacy was really the only thing she was trying to avoid. Babysitting Daniel for most of her life left her with very little alone time, those first couple of years their dad was gone Daniel clung to whoever he could. He never really did grow out of it he simply substituted Veda and their mom with Mr. Miyagi. Veda was really happy Daniel finally found someone to look up to but she missed the close relationship they used to have before they moved to LA. They hadn’t spoken much after everything that went down between him and Cobra Kai because Daniel was very vocal about his disapproval about her dating Dutch. Veda knew it was coming more from of place of concern, Daniel became very protective over her and their mom after their dad’s death. But often times his concerned lectures bordered on humiliation sometimes she felt like he underestimated her intelligence. He didn’t seem to understand that anyone can fall victim to a toxic relationship. Veda was pulled out of her inner thoughts by Terry letting out a soft chuckle, glancing over at her with an amused glint in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t call it a shack it’s really quite cozy I wouldn’t mind staying there if you wanted me to, but you know, you’re always welcome to stay at my place, you still haven’t come to see it” he trailed with another one of his alluring smiles, Veda giggled rolling her eyes, she hadn’t been over there yet he was rather tight lipped about what his house looked like and just insisted she had to see it. Veda often wondered what kind of house Terry would chose to live in, he very clearly liked having extravagant things.

“Do you live in a castle; you strike me as a man who lives in a castle. How big is it, I probably should’ve told you I won’t date anyone with less than 3,000 square feet to their name” Veda quipped with a teasing smile, Terry chuckled again giving her thigh a gentle squeeze.

“Well it’s a good thing my house is 6,000 square then, it’s also not castle, we can take a peek at it when we head up to Griffith Observatory and make a stop at Shakespeare Bridge tomorrow if you want” he shrugged nonchalantly with a slight smirk on his lips. Veda’s jaw just about dropped open at hearing the square footage of his house quickly assessing that the house he was talking about was in fact the Ennis House. She hadn’t got a chance to stray up towards Los Feliz or Hollywood since they moved but she had mentioned Shakespeare Bridge in one of their fleeting conversations. Terry really did remember everything she said no matter how insignificant she thought it was.

“I get to see Shakespeare Bridge and the Ennis House” Veda gasped excitedly; Terry gave her a bashful sort of smile as he turned off the expressway.

After spending a few hours between the beautiful Virgina Robertson Gardens, the Los Angeles County Museum, and the La Brea Tar Pits and Museum they decided to check in to the hotel. Moreso Terry decided to check into the hotel after Veda took a tumble down an incline when they were walking near the tar pits, scrapping her knees and forearms, after her wedge got caught on something. It hurt for a minute but she was okay though you wouldn’t know it by the way Terry panicked and flew to her aid, insisting on carrying her back up to the museum to get patched up before heading to the hotel.

“I’m fine Terry, just a couple cuts, I can definitely walk though. You don’t have to do this” Veda giggled as Terry wrapped an arm around her back and his other behind her knees. Terry shook his head placing an affectionate kiss on her cheek that made her heart flutter.

“Nope, the ground is too uneven for your shoes and you’re bleeding don’t want you in pain for your surprise later, so grab on baby girl” he said in a firm tone that left no room for discussion. Veda sighed rolling her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck, Terry scooped her up with ease as he made his way back up the hill and out of the park, back into the museum lobby. Veda giggled under her breath finding his display sweet but quite dramatic though she didn’t really expect any less from him.

“I really appreciate you doting on me this way Romeo but don’t think you’re being a little dramatic” she said teasingly, giving him a peck on the cheek and nuzzling her face into his neck despite her feeble protests because she still liked the feeling of  being cuddled up against him. Terry chuckled softly to himself.

“See your mouth is saying no, baby girl, but you’re not acting like you really want me to put you down” he said amused, Veda looked up at him to stick her tongue out at him playfully.

“It’s not like you were going to put me down if I asked you to anyway Terry. So, I might as well enjoy the ride and the view from up here while you’re at it” she shrugged playfully leaning her head back against his shoulder. Terry let out another breathy chuckle under his breath as he walked further into the busy lobby. Veda chuckled at the little kids peering up at them with wide eyes.

“You know me so well, doll. We’re going to get you patched up then head up to the hotel so you can unwind, get the full princess spa treatment and then head over to the place where your surprise is” Terry said being intentionally vague knowing it would get her asking him questions again. Veda decided to entertain his idea to distract her for a bit.

“Why do I need to be all dolled up for the place we’re going, hmmmm, are you throwing me a surprise party Mr. Silver as long as the music isn’t mind numbingly loud and I’m free to be a wallflower for some of it I’ll accept it” she said with a bashful smile. Terry shrugged his shoulders at her playfully, they were interrupted by the receptionist before he could answer her.

“Oh, is she okay, do you guys need anything” she asked with a concerned look on her face as she came out from behind the desk, Terry nodded swiftly walking closer to the desk in a few short strides so the girl could see all Veda’s life altering “injuries”.

“Yeah, we need a first aid kit, she fell down the hill by the tar pit hurt herself pretty bad, see” Terry said holding her like she could fall to the floor and break into a million pieces with one wrong move, Veda let out a soft exasperated sigh as Terry sat her on one of the benches gingerly. The receptionist nodded disappearing back behind the desk quickly.

“No really, I’m okay Terry. I only skinned them, they don’t even hurt that much” Veda said with a reassuring smile, toying with the end of his ponytail softly. Terry gave her a kiss of the forehead, pulling away to grab the first aid kit from the receptionist who walked closer to Veda, grabbing her arms gently to fully survey the damage.

“No, Miss he’s right we don’t want you catching an infection, some of these are actually quite deep, I don’t think you’ll need stitches but you’re defiantly going to feel this tomorrow. You’re lucky to have such an adoring husband, you know” she said before walking back behind the desk. Veda felt her cheeks tint at the comment and Terry gave her a smug looking smile as he opened a few alcohol wipes.

“Have you noticed everyone always assumes  we’re married, this is going to sting a bit, my sweet girl, I’m sorry” he said sincerely as he pressed a wipe to each one of the gashes on her knees and forearms, Veda let out a soft hiss of pain at the feeling the cuts did hurt a bit more than she let on she just didn’t like Terry being worried about her that way. Remembering how his demeanor changed when he brought up the possibility of the Night Stalker ever getting to her. Veda thought the chances of the Night Stalker being the one to take her out were slim, if it was anyone it’d probably be Dutch. She hadn’t kept in touch with too many of her friends from Pasadena so the likelihood of him knowing she was seeing someone else were slim but never zero. She was anticipating an angry voicemail from him any day now but since it hadn’t happened yet she didn’t feel the need to tell Terry that this might be a possibility. She’d survived much worse than scraped knees before , but Terry seemed adamant about her never getting so much as a papercut while he was around.

“Well, we have been married for three years and together for five don’t you remember” Veda said jokingly watching Terry plaster more Band-Aids across her wounds then she really needed , an amused glint in her eyes as he blushed at her comment. Veda loved seeing him flush like that for her and she wished it would happen more often. Terry quickly went over to hand the receptionist the first aid kit back, Veda took his distraction as an opportunity to rise to her feet, scurrying quickly towards the doors before Terry had a chance to scope her up again.

“Veda Noelle, you stop right there” Terry chided as he took off after her, Veda giggled at him trying to sound like a scolding parent, weaving her way through a group of school middle school aged kids swiftly, some of whom were as tall as she was. Veda glanced back to see him trying not to step on little feet, noticing a group of preteen girls circling around him, finding it hard to move out of his way as they gazed up at him rosy cheeks and bashful smiles. Completely ignoring their teachers demands for them to move out of the way. Veda couldn’t help but laugh at the sight as Terry looked at her with pleading puppy eyes.

“Excuse me” Terry said politely, giving them all one of his dazzling smiles which only made the girls break out into a fit of nervous giggles and whispers. Veda chuckled finally deciding to come to his aid feeling fully amused because she honestly didn’t blame them at all for swooning over him like that.

“Come on, Romeo” Veda cooed, reaching out to grip his hand, the girls parted for her but let out soft disappointed groans as Veda laced her fingers with his. Veda tried her best to stifle her laughter until they made it out of the museum. Terry rolled his eyes as she broke out into a fit of laughter, taking the opportunity to scope her back into his arms and head towards the car.

“Why would you try to run away from me like that baby girl, sacrificing me to the pack of teeny boppers in there. I just wanted to hold you” he pouted jutting out his bottom lip at her as he walked down the stairs, Veda looked back him amused leaning up to place multiple kisses on his cheek.

“I’m sorry I was only messing with you honey, I didn’t know they’d circle in on you like a pack of hungry wolves. You really didn’t help yourself any by giving them that charming smile of yours though, Romeo, I didn’t know teenage girls were so frightening for you. You could’ve gone the other wayyyy” she giggled, gripping and pulling the car door handle so Terry could just set her on the car seat gently. Terry chuckled rolling his eyes, taking a second to buckle her seatbelt for her, pulling her in for a sweet kiss before hopping in the car.

“I tried to, but that spunky little redhead looked like she was going to pounce on me. I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you baby girl, she looked like she was plotting your downfall when we were leaving” Terry chuckled throwing the car in drive. Veda let out an exaggerated sigh before dramatically plopping her head on his thigh.

“Oh, woe is me! I can’t compete with a spunky redhead; I fear my Jersey girl mystique won’t be enough to spare me from such a dismal end, Romeo. So, I’m afraid you’ll just have to appease her spunky demands while I shack up with some troubled possessive cop who reminds me of you” Veda let out another dramatic sigh as she looked up at him in mock sadness. Terry looked down at her amused as he reached down to stroke her hair.

“That’s oddly specific, baby girl. How many troubled possessive cops do you know who look like me. You are so precious, my angel ” Terry chuckled as he pulled out of the parking lot.

[grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks]

I’ve had this little oneshot in my drafts for ages, and I’ve been going back and forth about posting it, thinking “Oh, I’m not sure if this is complete enough for AO3 but maybe I could post it just to tumblr...” Anyway, now seems like a pretty good time to post a tumblr-only fic, so here you go: 

(CW: references to suicidal ideation)

Nights at the safehouse were the hardest. During the day, Jon and Martin had settled into an unspoken routine of simply not talking about it. They kept their conversations light,  traded jokes and kisses and good-natured arguments over whose turn it was to do the washing up, acted for all the world like a normal couple. But in the dark and silence of the safehouse’s sole bedroom, the facade of easy, uncomplicated domestic bliss fell away, and they were reminded of all that had brought them there.

That is to say, Jon had gotten used to their late-night conversations tending toward the weighty. Still, he wasn’t prepared for Martin to break a silence so long that Jon had half assumed he’d fallen asleep with,

“I’m glad you’re alive.”

Jon laughed and curled closer to Martin. “Thanks, I think.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s kind of a given, I just - I realized I never got the chance to tell you. After you woke up.” That froze Jon in place, hand stilled halfway up Martin’s chest. He knew how much he’d needed to hear those words six months ago, and he tried to savor them, let them soothe that old ache, but it was like putting a band-aid on a wound that had already healed and left a scar. “You don’t know how much I wanted to see you, when I found out you were awake. It took all my restraint not to sprint down to the hospital as soon as I heard.”

“Why didn’t you?” Jon didn’t mean it to be accusatory, but he couldn’t help it. Waking up to find that six months had passed, his friend was dead, and not a single person seemed to care that he wasn’t… it had hurt. It still hurt. 

He also didn’t mean to let the slightest thread of compulsion into his words, but he felt it as they left his lips. When Martin answered, his voice was not fully his own.

“Peter was the one who told me, you know. He was obviously testing my loyalty, waiting to see what I would do, I knew that, but I didn’t care. I didn’t say a word to him, I just grabbed my coat and walked out. I was going to go to the hospital, and I was going to see you, and talk to you, and you were going to respond, because you were awake! Honestly, I think I was going to tell you that I loved you right then and there, because fuck it! I got halfway out the building before I started thinking about what Peter would do.

“When I made the deal with Peter, I didn’t care about his end of the bargain. I didn’t care about anything, really. Tim was dead, and my mother was dead, and I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up, and I just couldn’t care about anything left in my life. I wanted to keep the others safe, I did, but I think mostly I just wanted an escape from it all. I figured either the Lonely would take me, or Peter’s plan would get me killed, and either way, I wouldn’t have to deal with all of that grief.

“And then suddenly, you were awake, and I cared so much, and I needed you to be safe. Peter had already vanished two people, I didn’t want to know what he would do if you ruined his plans. And to be honest? I didn't think you’d care. I mean, I knew you cared about me, at least a little bit, but I also knew you didn’t feel the way I did - or I thought you didn’t, at any rate - and it’s not like being apart was going to be as hard on you as it was for me. And if keeping my distance kept you safe? Then I’d do it. I just didn’t expect you to keep tracking me down.”

Like a string being cut, the compulsion that had held them both in place snapped, and the two of them set to frantic, overlapping apologies.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown all that at it you, it’s not like it was your fault-”

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn't have- I shouldn’t have Asked, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, it’s not like it was anything I was trying to hide, I just… I might not have gone into so much detail-”

“I’m glad you did,” Jon said, then corrected himself quickly, “No, I’m not glad I violated your privacy, I’m so sorry - And I’m sorry that you went through all that alone, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

Martin huffed a wet, quiet laugh. Jon reached out instinctively and cupped Martin’s cheek in his hand, finding it damp with a few stray tears. “You apologize too much,” Martin laughed.

“I- What? No, I don’t.”

“I’m pretty sure you just apologized for being in a coma.”

“Well.” Jon didn’t have a good answer to that, so he just snuggled closer, burying his face in Martin’s chest as though he could communicate everything he wanted to say through sheer proximity. “I am sorry,” he whispered against the fabric of Martin’s shirt.

Martin pulled away just enough to press a kiss to Jon’s forehead. “I’m sorry, too.” Martin pulled Jon back into the embrace, holding his head against his chest. They lay in silence for a while, the steady, soothing rush of Martin’s breathing the only sound in Jon’s ears.

“For what it’s worth,” Martin said eventually, “I forgive you for everything.”

“Everything?” Jon whispered, “That’s… that’s quite a long list.”

“I know,” Martin replied, and that was that.

In the morning, they would fall back into their routine. They would talk about cows, and chores, and the weather, and whether or not it was time to return their library books, and neither of them would bring up the previous night’s conversation. Instead, they let their forgiveness hang in the air, another thing left unspoken.

[averylegacy]

continued

@iwanttheromance

Jackson always tried to be honest, Even if the truth hurt. He tried to be loyal until you gave a reason to walk. When it came to his marriage with April; he can admit now he had his own role into how we fell apart. It was easy to blame her; to blame April for leaving. For Jordan; for us losing our first baby. But I also didn’t fight for her; for us. I waited until she was ready to come home, I realized now I had disrespected her needs; what she needed for herself. Yeah I wanted to be in her corner. I wanted her to need me, the way I had needed her. Instead of holding her; of telling her we’d be okay I had ripped the rug out from under her. 

I decided it was over; and truth was it was my biggest regret. I felt I walked away too soon, that I had given up on us. That the repairs were too broken. But now in the last few months I saw I’ve been lost since our diovice. Since we signed those papers; I haven’t been the same. I might not believe in her warship of god, but when it counted Jackson had to admit God had his back. Each time he prayed when April was pushed into this situation stuck to a hospital bed fighting for her life; god had helped her; helped us. We might have our differences, but we also had a whole lot of love for each other. 

Matthew; I wasn’t defending him, I was just trying say I understood why he couldn’t get past the first marriage. If I was in his shoes; I’d walk. Being forced to see the guy that stole my almost wife the first time we went down the alter, being forced into a weird relationship with the dad of his step daughter. I had to be realistic. I wanted the redhead to feel better; I wanted her to stop blaming herself. This fallen marriage wasn’t her fault; it was doomed from the start. I wasn’t going to say the words; but I was entailed to think it. Matthew I believed did love April; but it was kinda mirable he was able to forgive. I can only offer a hand; a shoulder for her now. I wasn’t going anywhere. 

Hand locked in hers; I had inched myself closer to the bed as our hands were laced together. Thump had traced small circles around her knuckles as I heard her remark about her track record with marriages. I could brush it off with a cute quip remark but this might be the right opening for a real conversation; about our own history we both held close to our hearts. 

“ You know our marriage, we both played a role in why it didn’t work out. I.. I’m sorry for hurting you when I decided it was over. I just.. I was hurt and I just I didn’t want to feel the pain anymore. But seeing you here like this.. Even before I can’t help but wonder if I jumped the gun..” With us; but I held my tongue shut on that one; not wanting to make it awkward if this was a internal battle with myself; and not a can April wanted to open. 

Green eyes lifted to meet her gaze, teasing; it was a habit. But I was the best looking guy she’d ever dated let’s be honest. A low chuckle emitted through bare lips. “ I think someone still has the hots for me huh..?” A joke; a light hearted joke; it was easy to fall into old habits with each other. We could always count on each other. As for her release date; I had to glance to the doorway; where I did spot Bailey still lingering; probably to drop news if I allowed her to. Arching head forward I thought about the arrangement in my head; but did it make sense for us. 

“ I may be able to talk Bailey into releasing you by the weekend but only if you stay at the penthouse with me and Harriet. I don’t want you to be alone.” A sense of care in his voice; as if it was easy. He’d take care of her; Jackson didn’t trust anyone else to ensure her safety regardless of the female’s answer.

[nerves-nebula]

on this blog u talk a lot about complicated family trams and shit like that so i kinda want to tell u an experience I’ve had so feel free to ignore/delete this ask if u want. (cw: near death experience) when i was around 10-11 i was at a pool with my twin brother, my friend, and her mom. the mom was trying to tell my brother something but he was underwater so i tried pulling him up but i ended up unintentionally holding him under. when he came back up he was kinda pissed and went back under so i did it again thinking that this time i wouldn’t make the same mistake but i did and when he came back up there was this look on his face of pure rage for a lack of a better descriptor, it was a look that he’d give a lot and my parents where able to handle but i was just a kid.the next think i know he jumps onto me, his legs atop my shoulders and wrapped around my neck forcing me under the water as I struggled trying to reach the surface again. It was terrifying, i needed to breathe but i could cus i was held under and in that moment i didn’t even know if I’d get it again. My friends mom was the one to pull me out and idk if i ever thanked her for that and maybe i should. my brother was remorseful and i forgave him but it still pops in my head time to time. i talked to him about it somewhat recently and he seems to think that i hade some malice when i unintentionally did what i did to him and wouldn’t listen when i tried to explain (he could have been joking though but it’s hard to tell), it almost make me feel it was my fault and i deserved it even though its not true. I find his anger to be scary a lot of the time and i feel guilty admitting that cus i love my brother and i know he’d be hurt if he heard me say that. There where 2 instances last year where i even locked myself in my room cus of it and one of the times was afraid he was plotting to kill me even though i knew rationally that it wasn’t true.

i find literally everyone's anger scary regardless of circumstance so idk i feel like if it hurts his feelings to know that that's kind of.. not really your fault?? like that would suck but i think it's reasonable to be afraid of people's anger.

anyway thats wild. i almost drowned a few times too but thats another plate of cookies for another glass of milk

[strangerays]

hey hey I only wrote 444 words tonight for nano - but I did write almost 1.5k yesterday so I’m still on track to win!

anyway- here’s a little excerpt I wrote from a chapter in which Ray and Lonan share a phone call about arsonists and Ray’s new crush:

“You might be right but trust me. Jude never wants to speak to me again.” “You really believe that?”

“If something bad had happened it would have been my fault, Lonan.” I dug my nail into my thumb, trying not to imagine the disappointment on Jude’s face when we saw each other next. I didn’t want to see her again. I didn’t want to be the person she’d rather avoid.

“You can do what you want,” Lonan said, “but I honestly think it’d be wise to check in on her.”

“Why? Are you worried about me?”

Saying this was meant to be a joke, but Lonan’s silence made me feel as though I’d laughed at a funeral. The fact of the matter was that I knew he’d been worried about me all day, and I sounded like I didn’t care at all. Like all of this was a prank or something. Actually, among everyone, everything, Lonan’s opinion was the one I valued the most. I don’t really know why this is. It wasn’t as if I needed to impress him – I think it was a deep need to keep him close. He deserved to know how lost I’d be without him.

“That sounded mean, didn’t it?” I asked.

Lonan didn’t respond instantly. “No – I honestly just think it couldn’t hurt to talk to someone who also knows what you’ve gone through. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, just… I want you to be safe.”

My chest caved with disappointment at myself. It occurred to me how hard Lonan had worked to move to Ivy Coast and be a good college student. But he still put me first. Sometimes, I knew that I could be a bad friend. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

writing the end of this chapter almost brought me to tears ngl.... it’s just because I used some words that have actually been said to me and they just hit different