#would prevent her reaching it without moving them

[david-watts]

kinda mad that I bought myself something as a treat, hid it, and it’s been removed from the hiding spot twice and half used (without asking) and on top of that stuff was left in it

[pathologicalreid]

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

[dycefic]

Tom Saves The World

Everyone knows that it’s super-heroes who save the world. They fight the aliens, or the monsters, or the bad guys. And mostly, that’s true.

But not always.

I’m a psychic. The thing is, my range isn’t that great. I don’t have much detail more than about 36 hours out, 48 for something really big. I’d had a nebulous sort of bad feeling for about a week before this one finally hit, and it was big. Something very tough and very supernatural was going to come up out of the harbor of Nova Roma, and the death-toll was going to be high. Crazy high.

I did all I could. I told the Unaligned Supers Job Placement Agency, and they put the word out to everyone on both sides of the Line. The Henchman’s Union don’t like natural disasters any more than anyone else, and they’re often quite helpful against eldritch horrors and stuff like that. Things that don’t hire henchmen and ruin the property values.

The trouble was, nobody big was around. The only really big team of heavy hitters on the West Coast were away dealing with some sort of doomsday cult - I never was clear on what that was about - and Guarde and Dog Fox were out of touch and even Mx Frantique was out of town at someone’s wedding. It was going to happen in less than two days and we couldn’t find anyone to help and I was seriously considering calling in some kind of bomb threat or something to get people away from the docks, at least.

And then, about eighteen hours out, it just… went away.

Which never, ever happens.

My powers might be short range, but they’re reliable. I don’t get stuff wrong, and I hadn’t been able to find any way to prevent what was going to happen, or even been able to identify anyone who could. But someone did. Someone had done something to stop the threat, something that happened literally while I was opening my car door. When I reached for the handle, thousands of people were going to die. By the time the door was open, there was no threat at all.

At first I thought it must have been a ranged thing. Like, whatever I’d been seeing (all those teeth, I saw them in nightmares for months after) had been distracted by something tasty on its way here and gotten off track, that it’d come up somewhere up or down the coast. My range isn’t that big, either. Anything outside about thirty miles might as well be on Mars for all I know about it. So we kept a watch out, and warned the chapters of the Union and the Agency in other cities.

But nothing happened. Nothing at all. I couldn’t explain it, and I was really unpopular for a while. Supers do NOT like people who cry wolf. There’s enough freaky shit we have to deal with without someone panicking everyone with a dire prophecy that fizzles out.

Thank all the gods that Tunny showed up. Nobody’s really sure what Tunny actually is - sentient fish creature, some kind of really mutated human, an alien, or what. She changes her story a lot. But she’s pretty friendly, especially for a twenty-foot-long horror-movie-mermaid-thing with four arms, so when she came into harbor to pick up some supplies a guy from the Agency went out to tell her what I’d seen. I’d gotten a wharf and dock number, so she went down to check.

I don’t think anyone had ever seen Tunny scared before. Her English wasn’t good enough to really explain what she’d found hibernating down there, but it was something very old and very powerful and very dangerous, and if it’d been woken up my vision would just have been the start of the crisis.

She rounded up a bunch of whales to help her move it, once she was sure it hadn’t been agitated and wasn’t likely to rouse if moved carefully. They towed it out before dawn, not wanting to scare the civilians, and when I saw the footage from the helicopter the Union sent up, when I saw how big the swell was, how many whales were pulling, I swear I nearly crapped myself. No wonder I’d been getting hints a week in advance. Somehow we dumbass humans had built a whole fucking city almost on top of some kind of Ancient Old… THING, and eroded the sea-bottom until it was exposed, and if someone hadn’t done whatever it was we’d all have been dead long before Tunny arrived. And not just all as in ‘all of Nova Roma’, it could have taken out half of the continent... or all of it.

It took me years to find out what happened. YEARS. It turned into a kind of hobby, tracking everything that might possibly have come into contact with Wharf 38 on that particular day.  

And what I found, eventually, was a city employee named Thomas Briggs.

I’d found out early on that 38 wasn’t in good repair. Not that bad, but not great. It was old, things were getting a bit saggy in a few places, but there’d been no sign that anything was likely to fall off on the day. It had sat there for a couple of years after the crisis that never happened,, doing its job without problems then been rebuilt without any drama at all.

Entirely, completely, and totally because of Thomas Briggs.

The story, when I finally pieced it together, went like this.

There’d been some project or other to build some sort of high-budget science project over on the other side of the harbor, hanging it off’ve Pier 8, the furthest out on that side. Something about tracking sea-life or ships or something. My conversational English is near perfect, I’ve been here for years, but I don’t speak science nerd in ANY language. It’d all been approved, some university was covering most of the cost, it was all gonna be fine. And it was gonna be over on 8 because that side of the harbor is the shallow end. It’s where the sailboats go. All the big stuff that would block visual sensors and deafen the thing with engine noise was over in the thirties, in the real deep water.

They were almost ready to install the thing when a bunch of rich dudes suddenly got their panties in a bunch over having a big sciency tower thing ruining the view from their yachts, and tried to get it moved.

To, and I’m sure you guessed this, Wharf 38.

Which was completely insane. It wouldn’t be able to do its job over there, it’d be way more in the way, and (although they couldn’t have known it) the installation would definitely have woken up the Thing sleeping by the wharf and we all would have died. But rich dudes with yachts don’t care about that stuff. They’d bitched out and bribed up their friends on the city council, and those friends had done their thing, and the scientists had been left in the dark, and it’d almost gone through. They’d figured to install it right away, so that when the science guys found out it’d be too late and they’d either have to pay a lot to move it or just use it where it was.

Enter Thomas Briggs.

Mr Briggs, Tom to his friends, didn’t give a crap about the yachts or the science. He was a senior money guy for the commercial wharfs, the one who figured out things like how much money they’d take in in a quarter, and what the repair budget should be, stuff like that. He found out about this thing two days before the disaster would have happened, and sat down and did the math.

Then he sent out an email to the guys trying to push this through, and he ripped into them like they’d threatened to knife his mother. I got my hands on that email, and I didn’t understand a lot of it any more than the council guys would have. It was ALL numbers. But at the top he wrote it out in plain English. Pier 8 was new, and rated to handle the weight of the thingy. Wharf 38 was going to be scrapped in a few years, and it was NOT rated for that kind of structure. Pier 8 had plenty of room around it. Wharf 38 was already a tight fit for the big commercial ships, and adding a structure sticking out on one side would block off at least half of the wharf to those ships completely.

Bottom line, putting the thing on Wharf 38 would cost the city hundreds of thousands of dollars more per year than putting it on 8, AND the city would have to eat the cost if 38 collapsed under it which it could easily do, AND the city would have to pay to move it in a couple of years anyway when 38 was due to be rebuilt.

And he cc-ed every important person he had an email address for, including the mayor, the anti-corruption people, and several reporters.

He must have sent that email right when I was opening my car door.

The whole plan collapsed right there, and some people got fired. There was no news story because the whole plan got killed before the reporters even got to the right office. The installation was started on Wharf 8 a few weeks later and I never connected it to a commercial wharf on the other side of the harbor.

One email, and a man who I never could have located in time, a man who had no powers at all, a man who was just conscientiously doing his job looking after the city’s money saved the city, and the continent, and maybe even the world.

Who could have predicted that? Not me, that’s for damn sure.

I can’t deny that I went home and got drunk off my ass that night. Just thinking about how close that had been made my hands shake. One man. One honest man who’d done the math.

I put the word out, once the hangover wore off. What had happened. That Thomas Briggs was the reason we were all alive and everyone better make his life real nice from now on, because he’d done what none of us could do and nobody but the supers would ever even know it.

He’s got a lot of luck coming to him, I can tell you. We don’t forget debts like that.

And I knew that’d freak him out, because honest men don’t like it when people start doing them a lot of favors for no apparent reason, so I tracked him down at the little bar where he likes to have a quiet beer on Friday nights before he goes home. Hell, I was the one who’d gone through it all, back then. I should get to tell him.

I sat down beside him at the bar and looked at him. I saw a thin, small, balding man who looked like he worried too much and didn’t get enough sleep, with lines around his eyes. Yeah, he looked like a man who’d do the math. “Thomas Briggs?”

He blinked at me through his glasses. “Yes? Do I know you?”

“No, you don’t. My name’s Barkhado Omar, and I’ve been looking for you for a long time.” I offered him my hand and he shook it, still looking confused. Which was fair, ‘cause I doubt a lot of seven foot tall Somali women came up to him in bars even when he was young. He’s got to be close to retirement now.

He frowned. “Looking for me? Why?”

I smiled at him. “Tom, let me buy you a drink and tell you about the day you saved the world.”

It’s usually us who save the city, or the world. We have all the intel, all the advantages, all the powers.

But sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s someone like Tom Briggs, doing the right thing at the right time and never knowing that he changed the course of history.

Wild, huh?

--

This story is a direct result of me and my ex chatting about how different the entire Marvel Universe would have been if Jean’s first ‘resurrection’ - being found in a life pod under a wharf, IIRC - had happened at like... any other time. Earlier. Later. It would have changed SO MUCH.

And we speculated about how it could happen, how someone just puttering around in middle management might have unknowingly saved countless lives, prevented Madelyne’s corruption, the legacy virus, all of it, just by postponing that particular set of repairs a bit longer.... and I couldn’t resist writing a version of the story in which Tom does, in fact, save the world.

[andrsnsgirl]

when you and abigail simultaneously ended up in the same grocery store and same you didn’t pay any mind to her because she looked like every other shopper in there but the feeling that someone was staring at you got the best and decided to look around to see who it was and lo and behold. your ex; abigail Anderson looking dead at you as she swirls a toothpick around. you scrunched your face in annoyance and continued to look at your shopping list for what you needed. you mentally make note to go to another Target in your area because her stalking you again was very fucking ridiculous. you made your way to the chips isle stuck on which ones to get because your 12 year olds sleepover is happening soon and you need to feed the little fucks that are coming to terrorize the house for 3 days. being so stuck on chips you didn’t even notice abby creeping her way behind you. “i think lilly would like the ruffles hmm?” she says in your ear and she catches you out of your daydream. “fuck, abigail. what the fuck are you doing here?” she backs up and takes a good look at you and chuckles “what’s with first name bases like we don’t know each other sweetheart.” she looks over her glasses that she has on in a fucking store you can’t lie she’s looking hot herself. her hair is down and she wears a tight short sleeve top. “we did but not anymore, remember?” she clicks her tongue and says riiight as she remembers the falling out when she found out you were pregnant and you didn’t say anything but that’s another story. “and no, lilly would not like ruffles. she’s 12 and a sucker for that red 40 shit.” you say as you grab party sizes for hot cheetos and takis, you throw them in your basket and skirt along the isle with abby trailing behind. you’d hope she’d leave you alone because this was your first time in weeks where you had a nice silent shopping trip.

and no she didn’t leave, she would whistle every now and then to make it known that she was still behind you, watching your every move and putting stuff in your basket she remembered your hell spawn liked but you ultimately put them back with a scowl on your face. it was up until the dishes isle where you were to buy plates for the kids to decorate to their liking, abby was annoying you. you haven’t seen nor talked to this girl in years and now she wants to somehow pop back in your life like nothing happened. “abigail.” you turn around and you’re inches away from her chest and smell the faint scent of pine and that gold chain you bought her for her 23rd. “what?” she says raising an eyebrow and stops swirling her toothpick. you sigh at her incompetence. “what do you want from me? i’m trying to shop here.” “obviously, you.” she says with a smirk. “what the fuck?”

that’s how you end up in the backseat of her car riding her strap like a good girl. your pornographic moans make her ears flush as she reaches her hand between your thighs and rubs your clit making your thighs shake and cause you to slow your movements. “abby s’— fuck,” “hm?” she’s swirling that fuck ass toothpick with an amused look on her face. how you hated the effect she had on you. a little anger builds up in you and you grab her hair to maintain balance without falling backwards though she has a hand on your lower back to prevent that, you fuck her harder and rougher making the car shake a little. “ohh fuck baby, sl..slow down fuck!” she grabs your hips in attempt to slow your movements but fails and lets you take the reigns as she sort of goes limp with pleasure. you come with a loud moan and fall in to her shoulder. both out of breath you quickly grab at your discarded clothing on the seats and get dressed. abby crawls in the driver seat and starts the car to roll her windows down and catch her breath. you dress and exit the car swiftly, before walking to your car you turn around to her lowered window.

“are you going to stalk me again?” you say with a tilted head and with all seriousness in your voice

“maybe..” she chuckles and chucks her toothpick on the ground and pops a gum in her mouth and drives out of the parking lot.

[bumblesimagines]

Curiosities

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Summary: King Aegon keeps his word and uses his power as the king to get what he desires. His decision flips (Y/N)'s world on its axis.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

TW/CW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mild slutshaming, implied homophobia (the Faith), mentions of child exploitation/abuse, mentions/implications of sexual and physical abuse toward sex workers, mentions of child/teen-adult relationships, takes place in S2 and while it doesn't follow the latest episodes as of currently beware of spoilers

These warnings keep getting longer and longer 😮‍💨

Divider from @targaryen-dynasty!

~~~

The members of the Small Council rose to their feet when Aegon strode into the room; uneasy glances and frowns being exchanged when they took in the skip in his step and the wide smile dangling from his lips. He had something in mind, something that most certainly wouldn't do them any good if it came from Aegon Targaryen of all people. 

"Good morrow," Aegon greeted them, setting his hands over the armrests of his chair and settling down comfortably at the end of the table. The council members tentatively sat down, dipping their heads in greeting and exchanging more glances. He raised his hand when Lord Jasper went to speak, effectively silencing the man. "Before we begin, I'd like to bring up the subject of taking an official paramour. These last few days have been... hard, to say the least, but I believe my pain has been soothed."

"Your Grace," Alicent began, her eyes fluttering shut in exasperation and chest falling with a heavy sigh. "I believe it's far too soon to be taking a mistress, much less the proper time with war brewing on the horizon. You are without an heir for the moment, so I understand the desire to-" 

"This is hardly about heirs or children, Mother." Aegon cut in swiftly, his back pressing against the chair and jaw ticking with a smidge of annoyance. "I want this. I will have this, one way or another. I am merely... informing you all." 

Clearing his throat, Maester Orwyle regarded his king with a small smile. "Perhaps knowing the name of your lover will soothe worries, Your Grace. Does she reside in the Red Keep? What house is she from? We certainly wouldn't want to bring any offense to her family during this time. Many fathers are oft' protective of their daughters and would find it insulting for one to become a mere mistress." 

"You're in luck then," Aegon grinned widely, his thumb rubbing against one of the many rings adorning his fingers. He took in the perplexed and curious looks on each of their faces, savoring their undivided attention. He swiped his tongue over his lips and reached forward toward his goblet, tilting it toward the cupbearer and listening to the heavenly sound of wine being poured. "For my lover and future paramour does not come from any noble family." He couldn't help but giggle, taking a sip from his wine. "He comes from the Street of Silk." 

Silence followed his revelation, each of the council members staring at him in complete and utter shock. His mother moved first, her folded hands unlacing so she could rub the bridge of her nose. Her eyes squeezed shut, lips rolling into her mouth to prevent any unsavory words from spilling out. Lord Jasper reached for his goblet next, drinking every last drink in it and motioning for some more while Maester Orwyle and Lord Tyland blinked at him in astonishment. 

"Y-Your Grace," Maester Orwyle stuttered, "The Faith of the Seven views the act of-"

"The Faith views incest, bastardy, and prostitution sins as well, Grand Maester. Yet many of the men sitting at this very table are guilty of at least one of these things. Besides, I am of Targaryen blood and I am the King of Westeros, am I not? My grandsire King Jaehaerys put a law in place exempting those with Valryian blood from being judged, did he not?"

Aegon's smile shifted from genuine into a more daring one, his eyes burning into those of Maester Orwyle and any other council members who felt bold enough to look in his direction. "My word is law."

Alicent's eyes fluttered open and she leaned back in her chair, casting a glance at the rest of the council members. "Think of what you are asking-"

"I've made my decision, Mother." Aegon interrupted once more, smirking at the way she clenched her jaw, and turned his head to study his newest Hand, Ser Criston. The knight straightened up, ever so loyal, and Aegon smiled brightly. Finally, someone who wouldn't object. "I have some orders for you, Ser Criston."

Digging his teeth into the warm loaf of bread he'd been given, (Y/N) walked along the gravelly, muddy road in the direction of the Street of Silk. His breakfast had been a gift from a patron who frequented the brothel, one of the few good things of working where he did. Lavish gifts were expected from nobles who could afford whatever they desired, though they more often than not merely dressed their favorite workers up like little dolls.

The smallfolk could hardly compare but they provided the more necessary gifts; food, drinks, materials. It hardly had anything to do with genuine love or care, and more so the simple desire of holding the gift over his head, but (Y/N) would never be in a position to ignore free food.

Madam Sylvi had long stopped providing him with anything other than a place to bathe and sleep, claiming he was no longer a babe and had to provide for himself just as the rest of the smallfolk. She was a good madam, better than most brothel owners, and she tried to take care of all the women and men she took under her wing, but she couldn't be everywhere at once; and she couldn't kick out every patron that grew bolder or more sadistic. 

His eyes dragged away from the light gray clouds rolling overhead as he stepped into the Street of Silk, the sound of pleasure and music filling his ears from brothels accepting patrons. Eager men bustled up and down the street, jeering at those lingering by their respective brothels in hopes of enticing one to come inside. But still, things seemed more oddly quiet than usual, (Y/N) noted, and he soon realized why when he noticed the elegant carriage waiting outside of Madam Sylvi's brothel. 

Ripping the bread in his hand apart, he tossed one piece toward the child sitting in an alleyway, his ribs visibly showing throw his thin layer of dirty, ripped clothes. The child sprang to his feet and dug eagerly into the bread, his eyes lighting up with newfound life.

As (Y/N) shoved the rest of his bread into his mouth and quickened his step, he hoped one act of kindness would spare him later. He swallowed down the food, throat itching for water, and stopped by the large double doors where a fellow brothel worker stood by.

His lips parted to question her on the carriage but he winced when he noticed the darkening bruise on her cheek, staring near the corner of her lip and ending near her eye. Hardly seemed like an accident. Alise brushed her fingers over the purple skin, her dark eyes slightly watering and her nose scrunching up in pain.

"Was it Felir again?" He asked instead with a gentle sigh, taking a step toward her and sweeping back some of her blonde hair. 

"Always is." She responded with a sigh of her own, dropping her hand down toward her chest where her dress plunged enough to show most of her cleavage, finger hooking to drag it down even further. "He pays too well to be thrown out, though. I hear he's grown tired of his new wife now that she's grown heavy with child. I'm certain we'll be seeing him around more often when the babe comes."

"I'm sorry."

"You mustn't be." Alise dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Be thankful he has no interest in boys, otherwise he'd do a whole lot more than what the Targaryen's done to your neck." She reached out to push back the hood of his cloak and dragged her fingertips over the markings on his throat, an amused grin forming on her face until she winced and touched her cheek again. 

"You should rest." (Y/N) told her, giving her arm a delicate squeeze before he pushed open one of the large wooden doors leading into the brothel. The air still reeked of smoke, sweat, and drinks despite the open window but most of the brothel had been cleaned up and ready for another round of patrons. He and the others would be given a chance to rest and eat, although when he spotted the two men in their shining silver armor and long white cloaks, he suspected his day wouldn't be the same as the rest.

The Sworn Brotherhood - better known as Kingsguards - were sworn to never own land, take a wife, or father children so they could fully focus on their duty of protecting the king and the royal family. Of course, they were still men, and despite the sworn promise to remain as pure as fresh snow, most of them were regulars at brothels; but they never sought workers out in their uniforms, much less in broad daylight. It'd be asking for swift punishment.

"Here he is, the man you seek." Madam Sylvi announced with a smile full of feigned joy that only made his stomach drop. She rose from her chair swiftly, the long skirt of her dress swishing with her movements, and she hurried over to him, her arms sliding around his shoulders and head dropping to whisper in his ear. "The King has asked for you, sweet boy. I do not know why but you must mind your step and tread lightly." Her nails dug through the fabric covering his arms. 

Aegon.

"The King has ordered your swift removal from this.. establishment so that you may settle into your new apartments in Maegor's Holdfast as his new paramour. He asks that you only take belongings of sentimental value so we may escort you to your new home as quickly as possible. He's asked of us to assure you no harm or insult will come to you for as long as he reigns." One Kingsguard spoke, his voice largely devoid of emotion and stance rigid with alert, but he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He seemed nervous, perhaps flustered. At least he attempted to appear like a Kingsguard whereas his companion blatantly ogled one of the girls until subtly elbowed.

(Y/N) looked between the two men, his fingers curling around the skirt of Madam Sylvi's dress. It'd been years since he'd last clutched to her like a child, but he felt tremendously small under the unnerving stares from the two knights. "Sylvi," He exhaled, tearing his eyes away from the knights to look at her soft features. 

"Perhaps it will be temporary, until the anxieties and worries of war pass." She soothed softly but the subtle tremble of her voice gave away her real thoughts. Paramours could be replaced, they often were, but hardly any noble - much less a king - had ever so publicly announced their new lover. "Go collect your things, (Y/N). We mustn't make King Aegon wait." 

Madam Sylvi ushered him up the stairs toward the rooms on the second floor where workers without homes to return to slept. His legs moved automatically toward his room at the end of the hall, or rather... his old room.

The idea hadn't settled in fully, not yet. He'd called the brothel home for far too many years. He'd been born in one of the many rooms he walked past; he'd raced up and down the halls whilst playing games; he'd been bathed and clothed and doted on by many in the very place he now had to leave. 

"(Y/N)!" A squeaky voice called out, soft footsteps thumping after him. (Y/N) stopped by the door into his old room, hand hovering over the doorknob and head tilting to peer down at the girl rushing toward him. Lyla collided with his leg, her arms wrapping around it and her chin resting over his hip as she looked up at him with glittering blue eyes. "Are you leaving?" 

"Afraid so, Ly." (Y/N) answered, opening the door and stepping inside the familiar room. The girl of only thirteen followed him inside, her lips forming a pout. He still remembered when her first flowering had occurred, a sign she'd become a lady. Her maidenhood had been up for auction the following month and a stout fisherman had managed to be the highest bidder. (Y/N) had been the one to clean the blood from her legs and ensure she drank moon tea. 

With a heavy exhale, (Y/N) looked over his rather plain room. He'd never given it any thought to decorate it with things from around King's Landing, for many of his fellow workers had sticky fingers and an eye for beautiful things. His bed was big enough to fit his body and his blanket thick enough to keep him warm throughout winter. There were a few potted plants around the room, something he added for some color and life. Otherwise, everything would merely be wood-toned.

"Will you visit?" Lyla asked, seating herself in the middle of his bed and tugging at the ends of her dress as she crossed her legs. Her eyes followed him as he sorted through his clothes and belongings in search of anything he'd miss, only to conclude the single item he considered valuable was the bracelet wrapped around his wrist; a simple gift from Madam Sylvi but one he held dearly. 

"I... am not sure, Ly. I will try to, if... if they allow me." (Y/N) responded, kneeling down by his bed and blindly searching until his hand bumped into the small wooden box he kept. He slipped his fingers around it and rose back up to take a seat beside the young girl, lifting the lid to reveal the glittering jewelry hidden within. Lyla gasped softly and shuffled closer. 

"They're pretty!" 

"Gifts from countless men and women, noble and smallfolk alike. I have collected and hidden them throughout the years for they are of little use to me. But, now that I am leaving... I believe you should have them. Take a few for yourself, Ly, but hide them where no other will find them. You must tell Madam Sylvi that you wish to exchange the rest for coin. It should be enough for your aunt to pay her debts and you'll never have to come here for work again." (Y/N) instructed her, digging through the jewelry until he found a thin silver necklace and clipped it around her neck.

"Truly?" Lyla asked quietly, her eyes shimmering with tears. Her fingers glided along the necklace until they curled around it, squeezing it tight in her smaller hand. 

"Truly." (Y/N) nodded, setting the box on her lap and planting a kiss on her temple. His fingers brushed back some of her black curls, a bittersweet feeling bubbling in his chest at the tears that spilled down her round cheeks. An orphaned child so desperate to remain with the last of her family that she'd shown up on their doorstep asking for a job, first as a mere servant and then into something more horrid. 

With Lyla's future looking brighter than his, he stood from his bed and took one last look at his room before venturing out into the hall and down to the first floor. The knights awaited him by the doors, the younger one of the two once again distracted by those coming and going. The one who'd addressed him straightened up at the sight of him, his gaze dropping down to (Y/N)'s empty hands and the lack of luggage. 

"I have... little of value."

"Very well." The knight cleared his throat. "We must depart for the Red Keep, then."

(Y/N) had never been in a carriage before, and he had to admit it was an odd feeling. Many of the roads leading back toward the Red Keep were bumpy and far from easy to travel. He found himself holding onto the cushioned seat beneath him as his body lurched and swayed with the bumps and light shaking of the carriage, his fingers digging into the soft fabric in a vain attempt at stabilizing himself. How lords and ladies could withstand such dizzying rides was beyond him. 

When the carriage finally rolled to a smooth stop and the door on the side opened, the extent of the situation finally dawned on him. He'd never been to the Red Keep; Seven Hells, the only time he'd even stepped on the road leading up to the castle had been on his way to Fishmonger's Square.

But there he sat, in the main outer yard with the loud groaning of the main gate sliding closed behind him. He forced himself to step out of the carriage and out into the yard, the sight of servants, knights, and courtiers greeting him. 

"This way, my..." The knight trailed off and exchanged a wide-eyed look with his companion. (Y/N) was no courtier, no page or ward, no lordling with lands and titles. He was merely... a prostitute; a whore as patrons loved to call him and his friends. Everyone around them seemingly came to the same conclusion, their stares becoming scrutinizing or pitiful. 

"(Y/N)," He said quietly, tugging his cloak further over his shoulders, suddenly feeling extremely aware of how plain his clothes seemed in comparison to the courtiers lingering around. He prayed the hood covered his neck from prying eyes. "Call me (Y/N), Ser." 

The knight nodded, his helmet slipping further down his head with his movements. It seemed the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard had chosen... a questionable lot for the job. (Y/N) dug his teeth into the tip of his tongue and lowered his head, an action that'd become second nature to him whenever he left the brothel, for drawing attention to yourself in the city was asking to be robbed or killed. It hardly helped him inside the castle, however. Those they walked by stared and whispered amongst themselves, blatantly motioning in his direction while doing so.

(Y/N) saw the look in their eyes, the way they turned their noses up and scoffed as if his mere presence brought a stain to the castle. Nobles believed themselves to be better than those who worked to provide everything they required, and it was that sense of ego that often made them the best customers; for a simple stroke of their ego had them spilling more coin than they could count. Most of them were fools, even with the high education they received, (Y/N) knew this well. Appearing timid and meek did people little favors in Flea Bottom, even less so among the nobility. 

Madam Sylvi had been right. He had to tread lightly. 

After a long walk through many hallways and staircases, the knights finally stopped before two large oak doors and simultaneously pushed them open to reveal the bedchambers within. "Your apartments... (Y/N)." One spoke rather awkwardly, vaguely motioning with his hand for him to enter. (Y/N) stepped into the room and stopped, blinking at the size alone. 

His... 'apartments' were even larger than the brothel if the two floors combined into one. On the far right end elevated by a small platform sat a luxurious-looking bed large enough to fit at the very least five people with a wooden canopy holding sheer curtains at the sides. Near the bed sat a desk with blank papers and a quill ready to be used alongside beautifully carved wooden chests for storage whilst on the opposite side stood a large closet.

In the center of the room, a beautiful rug with flower designs covered most of the floor, long couches and comfortably looking seats atop with a dining table set nearby. Lined along the walls were numerous paintings and shelves, some filled with books and others empty.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the large open window at the left side of the room that overlooked part of the city and ocean, a gentle breeze flowing in from it. Near the window sat a bronze tub on one side and a few more chairs by a fireplace on the other. Extremely extravagant, he had to admit, but far too much for a single person. His old room seemed pebble-sized in comparison. 

"I am Ser Corlin and I will be stationed outside at all times if you ever require my presence or assistance. I will follow you wherever you must go and am sworn to give my life for you if needed as King Aegon has assigned me as your Sworn Shield." (Y/N)'s brows furrowed and he whirled around to face the more talkative of the two knights, his eyes flickering to the other one when he dipped his head and left. Ser Corlin seemed a well enough protector, if not a little young. 

"Why would I need a... 'Sword Shield'?" He hardly knew what that meant, but based on Ser Corlin's words it appeared to be quite the important job. "I am merely... I am hardly important enough to need protection, Ser." 

"You are King Aegon's paramour; the only one of many to be given such attention. We cannot know for sure if any envious past lovers may wish ill upon you or if Rhaenyra the Cruel will attempt to harm you to cause our king further strife." Ser Corlin explained, shuffling aside to allow a few maids into the room. He dipped his head, providing no further information, and shut the door behind him. 

"How wonderful." (Y/N) exhaled, hands undoing the laces of his cloak and carefully tugging it off his shoulders. One maid sprang into action, collecting the cloak from his arms and looking over the muddied ends with a thoughtful look. He blinked at her, watching her dip her head similarly to Ser Corlin and slip out of the room. Were they... bowing? To him? 

"I'm Laerra," The eldest looking between the maids spoke before motioning to the other three with her. "These are Eliza, Shana, and Marya. We will be primarily tending to your needs: bathing, changing, cleaning, and fulfilling any requests you ask of us. His Grace wished for you to be changed into some of the clothing stored in the closet, if we may?" 

"I... am not a child. I can change myself." 

"It would be better if we did it for you, My Lord." The round-faced redhead, Eliza, spoke next, a hint of meekness in her voice. The usage of a title made him grimace but if it made things easier on the servants, he'd deal with it, he supposed.

Pursing his lips, (Y/N) sighed and nodded, finding no use in arguing with the customs of nobility. The maids moved swiftly; one of them filled a basin with water and warmed it by the fireplace, another fetched the clothes, and the remaining two began removing his clothes.

They worked diligently and quickly, a focused look passing over each of their faces. Shana scrubbed and dried his skin with a rag she dipped into the basin, getting his skin rid of any sweat and dirt it accumulated during his trip in the city, giving herself a nod of approval when she finished. Eliza scooped his old clothes into her arms and disappeared from his room as Marya and Laerra began dressing him in soft fabrics. 

"Imported fabrics and cloths from Dorne and some of the Free Cities, My Lord," Marya revealed when he eyed the white undershirt, the soft fabric rubbing nicely against his skin as they put him in a dark green overshirt. When they slipped gem-adorned rings on his fingers, she added, "Gemstones from Pentos. The King wished for nothing else than beautiful." 

"Thank you." He told them, feeling pampered yet suffocated. "I-... You.. may go. I'd like time alone, if I may." 

"Shall we bring you some wine? Perhaps some lemon cakes, as well?" Laerra questioned but when he waved them off, they all dipped into a curtsy and ushered themselves out of the room, plunging it into heavy silence that loomed over him like a storm cloud. It was too much, all of it. The room, the clothes, the accessories. He'd had a perfectly fine life in the Street of Silk, despite everything he witnessed and experienced. 

(Y/N) tugged the rings from his fingers, scattering them across the dining table, and undid the buttons of his overshirt to pull it off and drape it over a chair. He had little need for such things, for so many layers. He collapsed on one of the chairs and braced his arms over the table, his eyes drifting over to the window. His ears strained to catch the bustle of the city but the wind was all he heard, amongst muffled chatter and footsteps from the hallway outside. 

"Gods," He sighed and ran a hand over his face, slumping back in the chair. "What have I gotten myself into?" 

(Y/N) hardly had any time to process before the doors swung open and Ser Corlin's voice echoed into the room, "Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower." His lips pressed together tightly, teeth digging into his inner bottom lip and a heavy exhale escaping through his nose. The Gods lacked mercy for him, it seemed. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) greeted, standing up from the chair and bending at the waist when he turned around to face her. Queen Alicent (was she to be referred to as Dowager Queen? There were far too many titles) strode into his room with an air of grace, her dark eyes sliding over to him while her features remained blank.

Queen Alicent was beautiful with long dark auburn hair that'd been tied back and cascaded along her back, big brown eyes that studied him closely, and a slender figure. She appeared youthful, and he had to remind himself she had most of her children before reaching the age of twenty. 

"You must be (Y/N)." She spoke softly, her voice soothing and gentle. "I apologize for the sudden intrusion... amongst other things. I am aware my son feels quite fondly of you despite your former job. I must admit I was quite caught off guard when he announced his decision to move you here, into the Red Keep rather than housing you elsewhere as most other nobles do with their... lovers. May I ask what your family believes of this? I cannot say they will be welcomed if they seek riches." 

"I was born in Madame Sylvi's brothel. I do not know my father as my mother likely took many lovers a week to know for certain." 

Queen Alicent's brows furrowed, her long fingers ghosting over the hand of her hand to begin toying with one of her rings. "Likely? You.. you do not know your mother? How is that so?"

"I was never told." (Y/N) shrugged. "As a babe, I was passed around to whomever had the milk to feed me. My mother never claimed me as her own, but I'm sure she tended to me at one point or another. The women there never cared to tell me who amongst them had birthed me. They were all my mothers, I suppose. I can assure you they'd only approach me for favors if the idea ever struck them." 

"Born in a brothel.." Queen Alicent murmured quietly, her skirt gliding along the floor as she drew closer to him, her hand coming to rest along the top of the chair at the end of the table. "Forgive me if it is a difficult question to answer, but may I know the age you were when you began... working?" 

"I was eight years of age when frequenters began asking, nine when I began working. It is tradition in most brothels to auction the first time to the highest bidder as most patrons enjoy laying with virgins. I hardly recall the night but I believe it was with a couple from Braavos." His hand moved to grasp the wrist where the bracelet remained, thumb pressing into it at the memory of Madam Sylvi gifting it to him the following day after the couple left. The Dowager Queen paled. "They paid well." He added, though it hardly sounded like much of a comfort.

"You were a child." She exhaled, breathless and her voice dripping with pity. The stone-faced look she'd carried when she first arrived had vanished, her glassy eyes reminding him of Aegon's. They looked so alike in certain lights, he noted, from the furrow of their brows to the curve of their lips. She appeared smaller, younger, without the emotionless facade she'd put up when first acknowledging him. 

"As were you when you wed King Viserys." (Y/N) spoke carefully, his words soft and knowing. She stared at him, the shine in her eyes growing and full lips parting with a shaky exhale. Queen Alicent's gaze fell onto the stone floor and the tip of her nails scraped against the wood of the chair she held onto, her chest rising and falling with a deep inhale. 

"It is the duty that falls on the shoulders of many young noble girls. It was expected of me, and I fulfilled my duty, as you well see." He heard the subtle tremble in her voice, saw the way the corner of her brows dipped with each word; was she convincing him or herself? (Y/N) could hardly tell, but what he did know was that with a simple few words the Queen's true nature had reared its head. She remained a young girl in her heart, despite the years of motherhood and marriage thrusted upon her. 

"Duty or not, it did not make you any less of a child, Your Grace." He moved slowly, somewhat cautiously, when he approached her, keeping his footsteps light and his posture relaxed.

(Y/N) studied her face, her reactions, and the way her body responded to his movements with keen, observant eyes. She watched him, her eyes darting down to his arms so he moved them behind his back to ease any worries of him lashing out toward her. He stopped a few feet away, keeping enough space between them for her to relax.

"Forgive me if I speak too plainly or boldly, Your Grace, for us smallfolk hardly ever converse with those above our stations. I assume you have your assumptions about me, about how I make my coin, but I do not just pleasure others."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the next, the way her eyes jumped around the room from item to item telling him she felt nervous, likely uncomfortable with the topic of sex. The necklace resting around her neck held a pendant similar to the seven-pointed star that represented the Seven. For a woman of faith and nobility speaking of sex with someone of the opposite sex whom she had no relation to would be considered scandalous. 

"I provide comfort, as well. A willing ear to those who desire to be heard without judgment. I hold many stories, secrets, desires, and hopes that have been told to me throughout many years that will never leave my lips. I value trust, and I would never break another's, even for coin. I had little friends in the city, I doubt I have any at all here," A flicker of recognition flashed in her eyes. "If you find yourself needing a friend, I'd be happy to listen over tea or sweets. I have a feeling I'll be finding myself... quite lonesome here." 

"I... I shall keep your offer in mind." Queen Alicent said gently, her fingers curling around her hand and lips forming a tight-lipped smile. She dropped her hands down to the sides of her skirt, slightly lifting the ends and departing toward the doors. She stopped before them and peered over her shoulder at him. "King Aegon has matters he is attending to but I'm certain he will welcome you once he is done. Welcome to the Red Keep, (Y/N)."

[claymoresword]

We Bleed The Same | Part: 2

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader🐺

Summary: On the road from Winterfell to King's Landing, Cersei and y/n find themselves reconciling with both old and new feelings as fate seems determined to tear them apart.

Wordcount: 2.7k

Pairing: Cersei x Reader

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, angst, pregnant cersei, kid fic elements, y/n & cersei's relationship is so not healthy but we move

Note: So we end here. although i do think there's room to expand this story into a full fic but idk if anyone would want that (let me know if you do and i'll consider it) but eitherway hope you enjoy!

ps. this one kicks off with a bit of smut so i'm sorry in advance or you're welcome lol

Loud, unrestrained moans fall from the queen's lips as you cup her breasts. She throws her head back once more, grinding hard against your lap, your length filling her to the hilt.

Cersei's hair flows past her shoulders in tumbles of gold, her chest heaving with every trembling gasp and breath.

Gods, she is beautiful.

Cersei takes her pleasure from you without reserve this morning, as she often does.

Since arriving in King's Landing this seems to be all she has done, anytime the both of you are allowed a moment together undisturbed.

A simple conversation somehow always escalates, and you find yourself in the queen's bed– your hot, writhing bodies entwined.

Cersei halts her movements suddenly, bracing her hands against your breasts as she finally comes undone around your shaft. The sensation of her clenching around your cock makes you groan, your eyes flutter shut for a prolonged moment and you nearly fail to realize Cersei climbing off your lap.

You shake your head at her as she collapses next to you, breathless and full of incredulity, although thoroughly satisfied. You'd let Cersei ride you all day and night if that is what she truly desired.

“I swear, it will fall off one of these days.” You quip in between heavy breaths, glancing at your own member.

You earn a chuckle from Cersei, one low and sultry, her chest is still heaving wildly as she turns on her side to look at you.

“Oh, no we can't have that..” She says in return, her tone aimed to mock, she feigns disinterest as she traced your abdomen with her fingers.

You merely scoff in response, deciding to reach over the queen to grab the goblet sitting on her side table.

You lift the rim up to your lips, taking a sip before eventually throwing your head with the intention of emptying the cup.

Although before you can, you feel Cersei strike you on the chest with the back of her hand, causing you to nearly choke.

“Don't you dare drink it all.” She warns, and you swallow what little wine made it into your mouth before surrendering the goblet.

Your expression twists in annoyance, yet the queen appears entirely unfazed by it.

“You do not need to hit me every time you want something.. Asking politely is what most civilized people do.” You take the jab at her but still, the older woman hardly reacts.

Cersei instead shrugs innocently as she puts the now empty goblet aside, a faint smile tugging on the corners of her lips. “I am the queen. I don't have to ask for anything.”

Your retort dies in your throat as Cersei suddenly inched closer, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck. You wrap your around her instinctively, holding her close.

This woman drove you insane.

The queen is entirely uninhibited and treacherous, like wildfire; Cersei does as she pleases. Nothing in the mortal world could dream of containing her.

She is maddening, she is cruel, and so damned intoxicating.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

-

Soon a comfortable silence settles between the both of you, it goes on for long enough that you feel yourself nodding off, but the sound of Cersei's voice prevents you from falling asleep.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.” She declares quietly, her lips brush against your jaw before she breaks away to look at you properly.

“What is it?” You ask with genuine concern as you meet her gaze. You attempt to search her expression for any cause to worry, but Cersei betrays nothing of the sort.

“I am with child.” She says suddenly, and as her voice reaches your ears you can hardly believe what you are hearing; you pause.

“I am carrying your babe in my belly.” Cersei rephrases, as though you hadn't understood her the first time.

Still, you don't speak, merely letting out a chuckle in disbelief as you glanced at her belly, before placing your palm flat against it.

This only works to frustrate the queen even more. “Say something, you imbecile.” She hisses.

“Are you.. happy about this?” You find yourself inquiring, and Cersei only scowls at you as though it was the dumbest question she had ever been asked.

“Yes, of course I am.” She insists, grabbing your face with both of her hands, forcing you to look at her.

“You are going to be a mother, alongside me, at long last.” As Cersei speaks the words, they finally begin to sink in.

Yet, all you feel is an impending dread.

You are not prepared to be a parent. In truth, you haven't even given the idea much thought at all.

“The Gods have blessed us.” You say instead, and Cersei nods, her pleasant smile proves that she is content with your response.

You let her pull you into her embrace once more, and you hug her tightly in return– keeping your thoughts to yourself.

“A child born from you and I.. they are fated to do great things.” Cersei utters assuredly under her breath, only for you to hear.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You had spent all that afternoon in the Red Keep's training yard, sparring with anyone who would agree to it.

Knight or squire, it mattered not, you simply needed a distraction from the unpleasantness that was constantly gnawing in your chest.

You are not ready to be a parent, you aren't certain you would be even decent, let alone good at it. but still, Cersei's happiness is what matters most of all.

You have to see this through no matter what.

“Begging your pardon, My Lady–” A voice rips you from your thoughts, you turn around to see a young squire standing behind you.

You watch him quizzically, and the boy stumbles over his words as though only just realizing that he has to explain himself. “The– the Lord Hand has sent for you. He has asked for an audience in the king's solar.”

You scoff bitterly at that. Ned's new duties as hand of the king had resulted in him evading you at every turn.

Always too busy to spend time with you and his own children– but now he summons his sister through a squire and expects you to obey his command without protest.

He is unbelievable.

“Tell my brother that I'm busy here, I'll see him when I can” You insist sharply, scowling just at the thought of entertaining Ned's command right now.

You observed as the squire's face grew pale at your refusal, he advances forward nervously.

“Forgive me, My Lady, he did mention it was urgent.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You wince as you massage the knot in your shoulder whilst climbing up the steps towards the king's apartments.

Frankly not giving much thought to what your brother needed from you, or having much care for what he has to say at all.

A hand still on your sword arm, you push the heavy wooden door to Robert's solar open with your back.

The sight that you are met with when you enter makes your face fall.

Robert sits at his desk, Cersei stands next to him whilst Ned remains on the other side of the king.

Your expression twists further in confusion when you spot Catelyn stood by the window, a small child in her arms.

This does not make any sense– she is supposed to be in Winterfell.

“Has something happened?” You ask, entirely afraid of the answer. You turn to push the door closed, in an attempt to delay whatever this is, for as long as possible.

“Y/n–” Your sister by law is first to address you. Catelyn decides to set the child she is holding down before continuing, but before she can get a word out, the little girl sprints towards you, clinging to your leg.

The feeling of her tiny arms wrapped around you makes you stiffen involuntarily. You have never seen this child before, and yet there is something so familiar about her, some sort of inkling that you can't quite place.

“Who is this?” You ask, running your fingers through the girl's hair as she looked up at you giddily.

“A woman came to me, back in Winterfell–” Catelyn begins to explain, advancing towards you, but again, she is not allowed to speak for long.

“That is your bastard daughter, apparently.” Cersei answers your question bluntly, her tone laced with venom.

The look she sends your way causes your blood to run cold, you swallow, shifting uncomfortably. Your instinctive attempt to get the child to release you is to no avail.

The Gods make their japes, at the face of distress, they see fit to mock you.

You let out an uncomfortable laugh, one that causes Cersei to roll her eyes.

“I don't understand.” You utter, in hopes that dismissing it will somehow make it all ring untrue.

“Cat told me the woman that approached her used to work at the brothel.. when she became heavy with your child she had to find work elsewhere– she does not have the means to raise this little girl.” Ned explains, and the situation only begins to sound even more bizarre to you.

“That's.. not possible, I haven't been to any brothel in–” You start but the king swiftly cuts you off.

“Three years?” Robert chimes in, followed by a belly laugh that only makes you want to punch the man.

“Guess how old that girl is.” He inquires, and you grow quiet.

Cersei appears dissatisfied with your silence, she steps towards you in a last ditch attempt to help you and everyone else in the room see reason.

“How could you possibly believe that she is your daughter?” The queen questions openly, glancing at everyone else in the room before settling her gaze upon you.

“The whore is clearly just looking for you to feast her bastard in the king's hall.” Cersei accuses. Her words are harsh but you catch something else within her gaze, a look of desperation and true sorrow– it shatters you.

Ned shakes his head at Cersei's claim, it appears he has made up his mind on your behalf. “My sister's bastard or not, in the north we look out for our own. Whether this child is truly yours is unclear, but we cannot throw her out in the streets.”

You take in your brother's words, although you still fail to speak, it feels as though your voice does not matter in this instance, when things have already been decided.

Robert grumbles as he rises from his seat, evidently through with this discussion.

“Raise her here or don't, y/n. It matters not to me. She is your responsibility now.” The king says as he pushes past you to exit the room.

You watched as Cersei's expression hardened the longer she looked at you before finally averting her gaze in disgust.

“Your Grace,” You try but Cersei merely pushes past you harshly taking her leave as well.

Now you are at a loss. The child still sits by your feet, free of any predicament, entertaining herself by fiddling with the metal tip of your scabbard.

You look between your brother and his wife, and they only stare at you expectantly. You feel there is nothing left to do as you let out a sigh in defeat.

You crouch down to meet your daughter.

As you reach out to lightly pinch the girl's nose, she lets out an adorable giggle that makes you smile, before you look up at Catelyn once more.

“What is her name?”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

A few days have passed since a child had been thrust into your care unexpectedly and Cersei still refuses to speak to you.

Every one of your attempts at begging for her audience has been met with swift refusal.

It seemed the more you tried, the more it worked to provoke her.

The queen has since dismissed you as protector, and appointed another in your stead.

To add insult to injury, she has decided her brother, out of all knights, should take your place.

Cersei knows how to wound you and she does it well. How foolish of you to forget that.

-

This afternoon you approach the queen consort's bedchambers once again, only to see Jaime standing in front of her door.

You curse under your breath. You had hoped to force your way inside one way or another, but now that task is going to prove far more difficult.

“Let me see her.” Your request sounds more like a demand as you settle in front of the knight.

Jaime regards you with nothing more than a blank stare, looking you up and down before responding. “The queen is not to be disturbed, she is abed.”

You grimace at that before gesturing to your surroundings. “It is not yet nightfall.” You state a plain fact, and Jaime merely shrugs.

“The queen is not to be disturbed.” This time the knight does not bother to look at you as he speaks.

This alone fills you with a blind rage, you grip the hilt of your sword tightly, fighting every urge that tells you to unsheathe it.

Instead of challenging Cersei's twin to a swordfight, you lunge forward with the desire to strike him, but at the last moment, your fist makes contact with the wall next to his head instead.

Satisfied enough with the way Jaime flinches, you turn on your heels, storming off before the knight and do anything to retaliate.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

For most of the late evening you had resolved to spend more time with your daughter.

So far, the little girl has surprised you in more ways than one. You had quickly learnt that she is shy around the other children, albeit not unkind to them. She loves to giggle, and is mostly well behaved– for a three year old.

The first few days with her had you constantly doubting if she was even your daughter at all, but you soon came to accept that your denial is hardly fair to her, none of this is.

You will give her a chance regardless; a place to call home. She deserves a mother, especially if the one that birthed her cannot care for her anymore.

-

As the hour grows late, you carry your daughter to bed, tucking her under the covers before placing a kiss on her forehead.

The girl grabs ahold of your collar then as she often did to make you stay with her for a little while longer, but sleep swiftly takes over, causing her arm to fall to her side.

You chuckle at the sight, stroking her hair one last time before retreating. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

As you make the move to turn away, the sudden feeling of arms wrapping around your torso makes you flinch.

Soon recognizing the familiar scent of lavender oil, you let out a breath of relief.

You turn in Cersei's arms to look at her, an easy smile appears on your lips as you meet her striking emerald gaze.

Such joy it is to finally feel her close to you again.

Cersei.. your love, your heart.

“I didn't think you would speak to me ever again.” You remark, caressing her cheek with your finger.

Cersei doesn't respond immediately, merely raking her fingers through your hair before harshly gripping a fistful of it, causing you to wince this time for a different reason.

“Do you love me?” She inquires, yet her expression remains unreadable to you.

She aims to make you uncomfortable, and it is working.

“You know that I do. More than anything else in this world.” You respond in earnest, a pleading look accompanies your words.

She nods at that, satisfied enough that she releases her grip on your hair.

Now she reaches down to guide your hand, holding it in place against her growing belly.

“Do you swear to never choose that girl over our child?” The queen demands, swiftly looking at the bed where your daughter sleeps peacefully and then back to you once more.

What Cersei asks of you is bold, it is perhaps unreasonable, even. Yet you don't hesitate with a response.

“I swear it.”

Cersei allows herself to smile then, she finally pulls you in for a searing kiss, one you return eagerly.

She breaks away and her mouth finds your jaw, and soon the shell of your ear before embracing you once more.

“If you ever betray me, I will have you gelded and your cock fed to the dogs.” The queen whispers her threat with a sweet smile, but you know that she meant every word.

“I will not betray you.”

[astarioffsimpmain]

Consternation

Astarion x F!Reader

Warnings: Explicit violence; gore; mentions of abuse

Synopsis: Astarion realizes that Cazador is no longer his worst fear

Author's Note: This is my first ever Astarion fic, and I have to thank the members of the Astarion fandom that I have met thus far. This fic would not exist without your encouragment. <3

It was foreign to him, this fear. This icy chill that rattled his bones struck him deep at the core and unsettled him in a way that had him desperate to both pace ceaselessly and never move again. Oh, he had felt fear. It had been his constant companion since he was taken by Cazador; often his only companion as he writhed in the dark, his eyes open but nothing behind them. 

But this… 

He watched as Karlach carried you back to the campsite. You were bloodied almost beyond recognition, your heartbeat barely reaching his sensitive ears. It was his fault. You and he had argued last night; it was petty. He had been petty. He used the words that he knew would hurt you, and you, too spent after a grueling day to see through his act, had retreated to your own tent to seek out sleep in painful solitude. But sleep had not come. He'd seen it in your eyes this morning when you emerged from your tent, squinting and glaring up at the sun as though it was your enemy, and not his. 

And when you, he, and Karlach had gone out in search of food and firewood, you had been too slow, too fatigued, and too distracted to guard yourself from the attack. Orcs. They were a vicious bunch, springing on the three of you from the thicket near the base of the mountain range where you hunted, and while he and Karlach had suffered several minor injuries before winning out, you took a blow far more damaging. One of the orcs had taken you by surprise and bludgeoned you in the side of the head with its club before gaining the upper hand and stepping down hard on your ribs. 

He'd been focused on the orc in front of him until he heard the crunch. The sound was so grotesquely familiar to him that time nearly stopped as he swiveled his head in your direction. No. You lay flat on your back, your body bent in several unnatural directions, as the orc stood over you triumphantly, raising its club to finish the job. Your head lolled to the side and your unharmed eye met his and he shuddered, his breath catching in his throat. You didn't look scared. You didn't even look angry. He knew that expression. He'd seen it on your beautiful face as the moon bathed you in ethereal glow, the night he confessed his feelings to you. The night he surrendered his mask of flippant indifference and let you see him for who… for what he truly is. You had looked at him with such- such love, that night, so much that he thought he wouldn't be able to bear it. 

But now? Now he would trade the air in his lungs and every day of freedom he had left to be there with you on that night again. He would rather surrender himself to his master than watch you die because of him, and still look at him with love. 

It wasn't even him that had managed to save you in the end. It was Karlach, who had all but rammed the orc off of the top of you before gathering you up in her arms and running back towards camp. He had stood in a useless, pitiful daze, and had your tiefling companion not been there to end the last of the orcs before saving you, he would have been quick to join you at death's door. He remained useless as he followed Karlach back to the camp where Wyll, Shadowheart and Gale rushed off in the directions of their tents to see if they had something that could help you. Lae'zel had let out a bloodthirsty cry upon seeing you, demanding the blood of whoever or whatever had attacked you. Once Karlach told her the story, she posted herself at the edge of the campground, circling to prevent any more surprises. 

Everyone was doing something. Everyone but him. All he could do was sit beside you with his cool hands running over your body, trying desperately to cool you down. Your face was marred nearly beyond recognition, and the blood from your internal wounds had begun to pool just below the surface of the skin on your abdomen, creating angry violet spots all over your soft and beautiful body; the body he had held bare against his not too long ago; the heart he promised to love as wholly and genuinely as he was capable, beating far too weakly inside your chest. Guilt twisted further inside of him. If only he was strong, like you believed he was. If only Cazador didn't haunt his every moment. If only he was truly as free as you made him feel. Perhaps if he was better, stronger, more, he wouldn't have said those things to you. He wouldn't have hurt you, and instead of a sleepless night alone, you could have been wrapped up in him.

But he was foolish; weak; less. And he let his pain seep out like a fresh wound onto you, and now you suffered for it. Up until this very moment he had been under the false illusion that being sent back to Cazador was the worst fate he could possibly endure. How many times did he have to be proven wrong by you before he would listen?! Losing you was the fear he never expected. Losing you was far worse than losing himself, and the realization of that only deepened the already gripping dread in his heart. 

"Please," he whispered softly, leaning over your unmoving form. "Please, gods, stay alive. Even if you hate me forever, please stay alive. Please." His voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek and collided with yours. His body trembled as he prayed to gods he wasn't even sure he believed in, wishing for a miracle he didn't really think could happen. What would he do without you? He always insisted that he was his own person, but… was he? Or had he just traded one master for another; the first a master of his body, and the second a master of his heart?

[lexsssu]

Beast (Dion Agriche)

TAGS: Dion/Dragoness!reader, pining, pervy thoughts, breeding, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

This place felt…sad.

The towering manse was objectively magnificent and yet an air of gloom seemed to envelop the very air that passed through the exquisite halls. Though perhaps it could be attributed to the unmistakable metallic scent that hung heavily within almost every corner of the estate. 

Whether it was the main courtyard, the gardens, or from deeper within, the darkness that settled over the entire structure was like a shroud of death that beckoned victims to fall into the sweet embrace of oblivion. It’s only through luck however, that they can either meet a swift end or a drawn out and miserable one. 

Judging from the melancholic or downright pained expressions upon the ghostly specters that roamed the area, it’s safe to say that this was a place of great suffering and tragedy. None of the actual living occupants could see them, most especially that man whose soul harbored an impressive amount of corruption for a human. No matter how many angry spirits clung to him in hopes of dragging his soul straight out of his body in order to enact their just revenge, each death done or ordered by his hand only seemed to further the taint. 

It’s almost as if he drew power from the lives he’d stolen.

He wasn’t the only one who attracted the attention of the restless souls. The man’s children who tried to follow in his footsteps also had a trail of bodies before them even before they could be called adults. Even one of his wives, a seemingly spritely woman with doll-like features, took lives as easily as getting rid of unpleasant pests.

In conclusion, this family is as cursed as the land they had stained with rivers of blood over the years.  

Much to your surprise however, not every Agriche shared a penchant for senseless murder. One of the eldest living daughters (Roxana) only had a single ghost following her and even then, the ghostly image of the teen boy didn’t seem to want to tear her limb from limb like all the others. Rather, he followed after her much like a puppy who only wanted to keep up with her pace. Sadly, the blonde never seemed to take notice of the boy who bore remarkably similar features with her even as he tried to reach his hand out to touch her. 

For she lives within the plane of the living, while he now resided in between life and death, unable to move on due to regrets or some other unfinished business you didn’t know of.  

The question is…are you content with staying as a mere observer?

The blonde youth perks up the moment he realizes you can see him, sheer relief brimming from every pore within his spectral body when you speak your first words to him. He is rich with the secrets Lante Agriche fights tooth and nail to prevent from ever seeing the light of day. 

A lonely boy becomes lonely no more and a displaced dragoness finds that becoming lost wasn’t too bad when you have good company around you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dion doesn’t dream.

Considering the amount of blood that stained his rough hands, it is better that he only descends into nothingness whenever he rests his eyes, for one could only imagine what horrors lay in wait to torment him for all the atrocities he’d committed. He’s not afraid of the ghosts of his victims, but rather finds it useless to think of flames that had already been snuffed out when they could no longer influence the living in any way.

But then something changes.

He feels a soft, warm touch that gently traces the length of his nose, cups the sharp angles of his face, and even delves into his dark locks. Though his eyes remain closed, his own subconscious supplies him with the image of hands much smaller than his own large ones that poked and prodded at him without fear. 

While he would have caught the appendages and mayhaps stuck a knife into anyone who decided to lay their hands upon him, Dion knows that this could only be a dream because who would even dare to caress him so gingerly in the middle of night within the Agriche’s own manor? If anything, he finds his dreamself to commit to memory the feeling of such a gentle touch being bestowed upon him, because rationally he knows that he has no need for softness. In the confines of his own subconscious however, he supposes that he can allow himself this at the very least.

When he wakes up at the crack of dawn, it is to open windows with its blinds fluttering as the morning breeze makes its way to his room, bringing with it not just the familiar scent of iron that seemed to permanently surround the place he’d grown up in. 

Though he cares not for flowers specifically, he does have knowledge on their practical uses such as poisons and the like. He also prefers knowing the native flora and fauna of the hunting grounds he’d be thrown into in order to get a better grasp of the terrain.

Blooming honeysuckles make his brows furrowed in confusion despite his stone-cold exterior, confused as to how and why such a scent overpowered the ever present iron tang in the air. 

Curiouser and curiouser.

Dion remains oblivious to the shared laughter between a woman with ivory in her hair and a boy whose eyes reflected the deep, bright expanse of the open sky as they watched him stick his head out of his windows to locate the origin of the oddity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“YOU...”

“...Me?”

Dion feels his body practically burning from the inside-out, his heart beating several miles per minute as he finally gets a good look of the poltergeist that haunts his nights. He remembers the tender touches you press against his skin, the warm caresses that leave him gasping for breath and his loins aching for sweet release by the time he’s released from your clutches once dawn has broken. 

He does not need your sweetness.

He has no use for your gentleness.

And yet he craves it.

He has never desired anything. 

He has never felt so strongly about anything other than the swish of his blade, the gurgling of his victims, and the blood splattered against the ground as another mark of his martial prowess.

And yet you drove him to become more of a feral beast than he ever was as he now wished for nothing else other than to possess your whole being just as you possessed him without even meaning to.

“...are MINE”

Your surprised squeak is music to his ears, the flush on your cheeks pleasing the beast that sought to have you pressed down on the ground and taken ruthlessly, flooding your fertile womb with his virile seed...

.

.

.

To be continued(?)

[biribaa]

I saw you were taking requests for The Amazing Digital Circus, so if you want can you please write Headcannons for Kinger, Caine, and a character of your choice x a reader who’s abstracting in front of them

Also remember to drink lots of water and to take breaks!

-🧪Anon

Kinger, Caine and Ragatha x reader who's abstracting in front of them

I appreciate your kindness but I'm a computer, I think water is one of the things I need to "drink" less and prevent more.

TW/CW: AHH... Spoilers, also angst. Reader does get abstracted in all scenarios cuz we still dont rlly know if someone can be saved from getting abstracted

Kinger

Imagine lost your partners TWICE. Lolololol loser/J

Everything seems to occur in slow motion from Kinger's point of view, a heart he once had is somehow beating against his body. He prays to any god on this earth, be it real or not, or even Caine maybe, that this nightmare isn't happening again to him. Please, everyone, but not you.

Kinger tries to do everything so his lover don't reach the great peak of their insanity, even though he's not very good at it, knowing his personality. But trust me when I said, he tried. Who cares if he will get all glitched for touching your form, he needs you.

He never thought he would live another nightmare inside a nightmare. And in seconds that felt like painful hours to Kinger, here "you" are, a noisy form covered in eyes that flash in different colors. Your skin (if we can call it skin) moves abruptly as if it were a bag full of enraged cats. And, god, how he wished it was him instead.

Things are resolved by the talking human jaw, and yet the silence in Kinger's little pillow fort is no longer comforting as it once was. Silence now makes the small chess piece itch in agony. Silence that could be enjoyed with your presence, with holding your hand or dancing with you, and chat about random stuff he and you knows. The feeling of missing someone is familiar to him, and yet, it hits him in ways that his years in this circus haven't hit him.

Caine

While Kinger tries to do everything, Caine actually does anything to try saving your corrupted mind, and the lack of power in this situation leaves the digital being in panic. A simple snap of the fingers is not enough, and this information makes him tremble in ways he never thought he would tremble before for a simple human.

You aren't just any character, you are his favorite, the lil' buddy he spoils every hour and that always push a giggle from him. You were his very own star. The show could continue the same without you, Caine was sure of it, but could he? Without a character as entertaining as you in action?

"Of course I can fix them, I am Caine!" It's a phrase that was repeated several times in the presenter's programming, But with every grunt coming from the thing that once was you, it's just a reminder to Caine that he did a horrible job trying to take care of you. There were other characters that were abstracted of course, but... You were special to him. His favorite star. His star.

Caine even feels hesitant to put you in the hole of other characters who were abstract before. He preferred to keep you in a cage away from other people's contact, with no one hurting you and no one hurting you.

He knows, he knows the painful truth that you cannot be considered a sapient being, but even though you are a trace of what you once were, Caine doesn't have the courage to lose you forever.

With the other characters, Caine will act normally, with his loud and lively personality. Only if they analyze Caine close enough, the characters would notice something wrong with him.

And then, sometimes, he just stares at you in the cage. Caine ponders if he should admit the lost of his favorite star, it would be easier, but the pride in his chest screams that there must be some way that he could actually save you from...this.

Ragatha

Somehow, the scene is all silent for her. Ragatha stares at you as if the impossible itself is happening in front of her.

Ragatha holds your hands about to disappear, she caressed what was left from your shoulders, she hurriedly whispers words that would normally calm you down, but nothing can save you from the fate of your sanity, just leaving her with the pain of being glitched.

Of course, she had her other friends like Pomni, but lost you?!

Ragatha thinks she saw everything during her new experience in the digital circus, but something common like losing someone so important was the end of the line for her. You were her darling, her sunshine and her little everything even.

Everything she did sounded slightly more boring and boring without your presence, and Ragatha could do nothing about it. She continues (at least tries) to remain strong after that, still trying to complete the little adventures that Caine gives to the participants. But Ragatha's slow pace and lack of smiles was very noticeable.

The weight on Ragatha's chest is too much, losing someone so sweet and perfect for her in such a horrible way is too much. And the worst part is that Ragatha believes that she could have done something to save you, she could have been with you more often so that your mind didn't fall apart like this. But now, she can do nothing but mourn.

[ggsbooks123]

Memories — part two of memory garden

warning: gets pretty angsty here and character deaths 😓 mentions of suicide (jude bby is guilt ridden)

summary: you don’t know how much longer you can take it. The thoughts eating away at you telling you to kill someone in your heart you knew was pure good… but what happens when the voices turn on you?

a lil disclaimer yall i mixed cressidas name with cresta without thinking and realised half way through… i couldn’t be bothered to go back and fix it so i continued using it 😭 cresta is cressida!

— —

The next morning I woke up to Boggs shaking me and asked me to step outside, the sun was only just making its ascent.

I notice my restraint is off, Boggs must have taken them off before waking me up, I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why he had done it, I was in no right mind.

My eyes lifted at the doorway, Peeta was right there… No. I shook my head, following Boggs out the door.

He stood gazing over the destruction of the city, I tightened my fist when the echo of a voice tried to break through. Not now. This was the outcome of war and nothing I did to them now would prevent this. But the voices never agreed.

“Wanted to check how you were feeling after your first night” He explained once I joined him at his side, it was nice that he cared.

I shrug, glancing back over my shoulder “I don’t think it’s a good idea that i’m here, I was getting help back at the district… I don’t know why i’m here” I definitely didnt think it was a good idea, Coin had sent me here knowing i was far from recovery.

“Coin always has a reason” Boggs muttered like he’d been reading my thoughts “I think she has no use for Katniss and Peeta anymore-“ He eyes filled in the blanks his words didn’t…

“She sent me to kill them” I whisper back realisation smacking into, I was a weapon, again. But it wasn’t the capital this time, it was the rebellion.

When will i be free?

The voice sounds almost sad and I realise that it’s not a voice, it’s my own thoughts. My own depressing and given up thoughts.

“She can try and turn you into some psycho killer but the people in that room care about you, even if you don’t see it. So do I, the three of you kids have seen more hell than anyone deserves” Boggs explains, finally turning from the city to face me. “You’re just kids”

I frown, glancing down at my hands. Kids. We weren’t even eighteen years old, it was something that defined so much about someone and id forgotten.

“Thank you” I whisper, movement from inside alerts me and I reach for my gun, what if Peeta took this distraction as an opportunity but then Katniss stepped out, my heart didn’t slow but my hands dropped.

“What’re you doing out here so early?” Katniss asked stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance, my hand clenched.

She’s with Peeta, they will kill us all. The desire to kill Katniss was easier to push down but when it came to Peeta is was a thirst for blood like no other.

I shake my head, not hearing what Boggs responded with.

“How are things?” Boggs doesn’t respond to this question so I glance up and see they both have their attentions on me.

How are things? I wanted to scoff, but I knew that I was an accident waiting to happen, they didn’t know what would set me off. Apparently just saying how are things is one example. I shake my head and I notice the flash of concern.

“I can only get better right?” I spit, I don’t mean for it come out like that but she flinches and Boggs places his hand on her shoulder.

I feel it, my hand moving on its own before my right slapped down on it, instantly both their eyes slammed to me and without further explanation i declare, “We need to put my restraint back on”

And with that Katniss went inside and woke the others and Boggs cuffed me again.

Finnick was the first to step out, alongside a girl with a vines blooming flowers across the left half of her shaved head “Jude, I wanted you to meet Cresta, she’d one of the directors for this whole thing”

I smiled lightly at her, hoping to be polite since she no doubt had to stay up for an hour and watch me last night. “Nice to meet you, are you from the Capitol?”

She nods, “Do I give off that capitol ignorance?” She asked as a joke but in her eyes I could tell she was pleading I said no which made me smile slightly wider. I liked her.

“No, no. I was just asking didn’t mean to hit right on the money” I shrugged, “Maybe after this I could read palms?” I raise an eyebrow at Finnick who seems to just be smiling at me. “What?”

“Nothing, just glad you’re finally started talking about an after this” And with that Cresta and him left me, sending my mind reeling.

After…

— —

The next few days were especially hard, we had to travel a few streets at a time due to these devices called pods, the game makers had created them, no death should be boring apparently.

One of the pods had contained thousands upon thousands of snakes, luckily they seemed to stop at a certain point. Just like in the games except we could activate them from a distance.

Some of the other pods though, made it harder to remember where I was and who my friends are. Boggs had set off the last pod, four explosions had destroyed the road before them and each explosive made unbidden thoughts enter my head.

Now we were slowly making our way through the Capital streets, it seemed bizarre to think that it was once luxury.

“How’re you feeling?” His voice breaks through everything, and my neck snaps to him as I take a step back, bumping into Finnick who seems to have noticed why and is already guiding me to walk again.

Peeta frowns, turning away for a moment before looking back at me “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Maybe he was trying to be nice, because we both knew it hadn’t been the reason.

“It’s- It’s okay. Really. Just a lot going on, and I think I’m feeling better. The questions that i’m asking help” I respond, trying to stay calm and push the voices away, though they’re not really there at the moment.

He seems to perk at my words before shooting over his shoulder “Ask one now, can’t hurt” I blow a breath, rattling through my brain for anything and then it clicked.

We’re back in the 75th Hunger Games, it’s a couple days in and we look utterly spent, I don’t even look like i’m making my next five steps.

I try to remember when this was, must’ve been right before the arena been destroyed, Peeta and I had run into the Careers and I’d paid with three strikes to my chest, Peeta not much better off.

The thought of the wounds made me reach for my chest, but they were gone. Magically healed by the Capital just to be tortured mentally.

I watch myself trip slightly but Peetas there in an instant, arm looping around my waist, holding me for dear life.

It looked so natural. Right. Together, his eyes never leaving me, concern dripping with every blink.

I hear him whisper like he’s next to me “We’re almost at the beach alright, just a little further” I can feel the desperation in his words, he needed me to make it.

I remember the exhaustion now, the utter fatigue I felt. The thought to close my eyes was over bearing but I couldn’t let Peeta down… win, I couldn’t let him win!

I snap out of the memory, luckily Finnick has my arms in his hands because i’ve stopped again and Peeta is looking at me with concern over his shoulder every few seconds. “Jude?” Finnick whispers and I take deep breath.

“In the last Hunger Games,” I began, trying to sort out the memory, he was saving me or was he the reason I ended up at the Capitol? “You saved me after the Careers attacked us, real or not real”

He frowned at the question, was it concern or hurt in his eyes, I didn’t know because when he blinked it was gone but then he stopped turning to face me. This time Finnick doesn’t push me forwards. He didn’t save you, and now he knows that he can’t get away with his lies anymore. Kill him!

Before I could act on the voices that abruptly awokened he speaks up, “I got you to that beach, then the arena went out and the Capital got you. So yeah, I saved you from the Careers but I couldn’t save you from the Capital and it’ll kill me everyday that you had to go through that and this and I couldn’t do anything”

His voice grew more anguished and devastated with each word and I found tears falling down my own face as he took deep breaths in front of me. The old me would’ve known how much this was eating at him, would’ve helped him but how could I?

I didn’t know me anymore. Or what I could do before I snapped.

I didn’t know what to say so I said “Haymitch told me that I- I told them if it came down to it, to save you” His eyes sharpened on me somehow, “I don’t blame you for what happened in the Capital, I never will. I’m sorry”

The air hung still as Boggs turned to them finally, breaking the moment “Keep up! We haven’t got all day” Peeta sighed, glancing at Boggs before solely landing on me again.

“Real. I saved you from the Careers” I smiled lightly, kill him, I shoved it down not paying any attention to it.

“Thank you” Finally, we began to follow the others down and around another corner. Soon we were arriving at our next pod, this one had a large arch with completely and utterly destroyed walls surrounding it left to right.

More destruction passed as they continued, how long before it’s too much, until the city isn’t even salvageable. Boggs told us to hide behind the walls while he set it off the next pod and then checked for anymore. We did as told, I took position between Finnick and Katniss and two other guys i didn’t know, Peeta and Cresta, Jackson and Pollux on the other side.

I felt anticipation, the voice had free roam when the pods went off. Too much going on at once, I couldn’t control it.

The pod detonation sent my mind spiraling, as I assumed, this one, four guns emerged from the wall and rained bullets into the archway destroying bits of the wall they were behind.

If you killed them their symbol would be gone, who would push that hope and if not for Katniss and Peeta, it would die with them. The voice stronger than it’d been in days.

No! I crouched further agaisnt the wall we’d taken cover behind, I’d been given my blank gun back for the promo but this was all too much, I felt the butt of the gun against my temple as I curled into my self.

I bring my head up and smack it against the gun, get out of my head. Get out. Get out! “My favourite colour is purple, I can’t wear red bows. Peeta saved me. My favourite-“ I repeat the words, whispered and keep bringing the butt of my gun to my temple.

A hand on my shouldern brings me back, at first my eyes catch the utterly devastated ones across from me. Peeta. He looks like he’d burn the world… For me. I break the eye contact quickly and the look in Finnicks eyes said it all. He didn’t have to go through what I had to understand, I didn’t know if I’d be able to do this without him, or Peeta… No matter how much I wanted to kill him sometimes.

Suddenly an explosion going off catches us off guard, did they set off another pod? “Boggs!” Katniss screams break the air, Finnicks hands move under my shoulders and lifts me to my feet, hauling me around the corner.

We both freeze at the sight, easily three of our squad members had been hit by the bomb. But it’s Boggs who lays in Katniss’s arms that makes my stomach drop and I’m almost sure I would have crumbled if not for Finnick. Bogg’s legs were gone, nothing but two stumps and onrushing blood.

Oh god, oh god. I slam my eyes shut and a ringing breaks out in my head. This is my fault, it’s all my fault, I never should have trusted them, Boggs should have never trusted them. The thoughts come harsher than they have in weeks and I can’t break away from them.

Kill them before they kill us all. This one isn’t my voice and I snap my eyes open sure I’d see his old and drawn face in front of me, but he’s not there. Relief fills me, but the twitch in my hand isn’t as my eyes dart to Peeta.

He must’ve been hit by the backlash of the bomb, Jackson was helping him to his feet as Cresta was helping one of the twins, who’d I forgotten were even there amongst all the chaos. His blue eyes darted around until they met mine and then they drifted to my hands.

I was holding my gun… I didn’t remember grabbing it, and it was full of blanks but it could still be a weapon. Kill him, I shake my head taking a step back at the same time I hear a click from afar, my head shoot’s up and I look to see l the other twin had rushed to help the other and had set off another pod.

I flinched ready for another bomb but instead the walls to the archway we just entered and the three others all begin to close, Katniss now standing from Boggs and holding the device he had seems to catch sight before anyone of us and the look of horror on her face is enough “Run!”

An arm grabs me and yanks me forward but my hands tighten on my gun, it was his fault. I can’t shake away these thoughts anymore, not after Boggs.

“Jude, keep it together!” Finnick spoke from beside me but nothing could bring me back, not after everything, everything that he’d done.

I felt my mind unscrewing, going barbaric at the thought of Peeta being so close and safe, he would make it out of this courtyard. And I tried to fight every single part of me that wanted to change that.

I couldn’t… Not after Boggs. You’re just kids, Peeta was a kid that had been the reason of hundreds and thousands of people… He had to die.

The air thrums around us as we rush up the stairs and I take this moment to look over my shoulder, a wave of black liquid lurches towards us and with utmost certainty I don’t want to find out what happens if it reaches me but then my mind flicks.

No consequences, kill him and die knowing you saved innocents. I wanted to shake these thoughts away, Peeta rushing up behind me tells me that he’d probably only run when he realised I was safe but a larger part of me knew he had some hidden agenda to kill me and cause more harm than good.

I had time.

It was the last confirmation I needed, shoving Finnick off me and throwing myself at Peeta, I let one of hands release the gun as I grab for his shoulder but his foot catches something and I only manage to grab his shirt as we go rolling down a few of the steps as he tries to fight off my grip, I hoped I had timed it right.

“Jude! Don’t” He cried out, finally managing to grab my wrist so I raise the gun in the other, “You have to die” I whisper, unsure why I needed to say it before I bring down the gun and finally, finally-

I’m shoved, NO. Snow’s voice screams in my head and I let out a cry, the yell breaks my skull open and I feel every ounce of rage pouring from the word.

His anger becomes my own and fuels me as I jump up from the ground and grapple the man from our squad who had ruined ruined ruined everything.

I knew it was wrong, some part of me as my ears rang and my mind exploded, but I couldn’t stop stop stop. The liquid rushed behind the man in my arms now, we’d spun, had I done that? Before my foot lifted and connected with his middle and I sent him into the abyss of oil.

Then it was all gone, the ringing, the voices and my mind was clear. I just killed a man. Someone must have grabbed me because i’m moving but I don’t feel it and I don’t care I’d killed someone, killed killed killed.

I feel the tears now as a door slams shut behind me and I hauled up my stairs, these are wooden not stone. The voices come back but they are no longer on my side. And it’s my own voice.

You killed an innocent. You need to die, you’re a danger. And I agree, I scream and scream that I want nothing more than to be dead and I must’ve actually been screaming because soon all I see is the same abyss I had forsaken another to.

— —

An explosion wakes me up and proceeds to remind me of everything that had happened before I succumbed to the darkness, I took in my surrounding the only light coming from the curtained window that Katniss and Gale were peering out of.

Whatever had just happened outside had affected Katniss more than Gale, and as I shift my position to get a better look but it’s useless, Gale lets the blinds close.

I let my eyes dance around the room, there’s more people in our group than I had realised, two men sat together checking the other for injuries, another man I seen but still didn’t know the name of stood with Cresta while Finnick and Peeta sat watching the window that Katniss and Gale were at. Jackson was no where in sight, I didn’t want to see her anyways, the guilt would twist even further. The twins… gone.

I swallow the sickness I feel, I had been so crazed I hadn’t taken the time to even get to know them.

All of the squad was far from me, I realised I was placed on stairs and the rail along it is what my hands are cuffed to.

Now you can’t hurt anyone. That hadn’t changed, no longer would I fight the urge to kill Peeta, somehow my wish of not killing him had been granted. Now I had to try not to kill myself, though that statement was half hearted.

Suddenly the familiar ring of the Capitals announcement played and my veins grew cold until one of the squad members spoke up “All the tvs in Panem are connected to the announcements, if the powers on then the shows running”

I rolled my eyes, the power that they could flush into abandoned apartments was incredible when some districts could barely keep the lights on for an hour or half.

The anthem continued, causing me to close my eyes but that only let the voices free reign in the darkness.

You could’ve been helping them stop this instead you let the Capital control you. I grit my teeth together not being able to take in what was happening on screen from the inner battle I was having with my own thoughts. You nearly killed Peeta and you were proud of it.

I nearly threw up.

My skin was on fire, pure and unadultered disgust and shame with myself, how could I have not realised that killing Peeta was the worst possible thing I could do, I would be nothing. Nothing, there was no way to put into words what would happen if he died.

And by my own hand, I closed my eyes. No. Never again would I let them win, hurt him. Never. I’d kill myself before I ever did something like that again… If I was even given the chance of redemption after what I did.

I open my eyes as I hear my name mentioned and see that the Capital is replaying everything that’s been haunting me since i woke up.

I watch the black oil like substance hurtle it’s way towards us, and I see it clearly now, Peetas eyes are on me waiting until I’m safe and clear before he runs after me and in that split second decision i’ve made one aswell.

Watching it on the screen was horrifying, my arm reaching for his throat but finding his shirt instead, us rolling together and still the look of murder on my face, so twisted it doesn’t even look like me before Mitch yanked me off and I thanked him by kicking him into the pod trap.

His scream echoed through the screen and I flinched, I’d been so full of rage and out of it I hadn’t heard it or seen as a metal cage lined with spikes shot from the oil, encasing the now dead Mitch.

I close my eyes unable to watch the rest. Monster, monster, monster. My voice spits over and over again, these I can’t shut out. It’s simply my thoughts the more I push it triples.

“Well, what’s next?” Jackson asked out of sight, I glanced around the room yet none of them seemed to look at me. I understood why they wouldn’t, some of them knew Mitch.

I killed their friend. Yet no one responded.

Was it not obvious? “I- I killed him” I whispered, all of their heads snapped like my voice was the last they expected “You should either leave me here or put a bullet in my head so no one else dies”

In the corner of my eye I see a hint of blonde flinch at my words, but I’d nearly killed him if it wasn’t for Mitch… Now he was dead, I didn’t get to live. “It’s the only reasonable solution, you can’t tell me i’m wrong”

“You’re wrong” Peeta cut in before anyone else could agree or disagree, I couldn’t tell by their faces and yet none of them cut into Peeta “You are restrained and we have a watch on you, Mitch knew what he was signing up for, we all did”

I looked away from him. This wasn’t right, my thoughts were against me now but what happened when they turned on him again? Because they would.

“You saved me once, you’ll be saving me this time aswell if you just-“

“No”

My eyes met his and I knew I’d never seen the fire in his gaze that he’d held this moment, Peeta was not budging on this. I frowned, I was a liability why couldn’t he see that?

My mind flashed to solutions, none came to mind. “There has to be a way where if I know i’m going to snap that I can stop myself” My words break at the end as I gaze around the room, there’s only silence “Please… please”

Gale steps forward and I see Peeta take a step but Katniss stops him, and I’m grateful as the brunette boy crouches down and pulls something from a hidden pocket.

A small pill, it was hard to think it’d do what i asked, delicately Gale pushed the pill into my own hidden pocket and patted it “It’s Nightlock, no pain and instant. Only if you have to”

I nodded, hesitantly but promising “Only if I have to”

And with that they set out, planning a course of action. The pods were too often now, they would have to stop constantly.

It was time to go underground

—

- … sooo part three?!?

—

DONT SCREAM AT ME IK IM AN ASSHOLE IM SO SO SO SORRY FOR MAKING YALL WAIT MY GOODREADS GOAL WAS SLACKING HAD TO CATCH UP HOPE YALL LIKE THIS XXXX

taglist girlies💓: @yazminetrahan @solarbxby @abbersreads @antonietta18

[micahwrites16]

My Love, My Home - Anakin Skywalker

Note: While writing this I imagined y/n as Padme in AotC, but not actually Padme? Like she’s Senator and she’s with Anakin on Naboo, him protecting y/n, but you can picture her however you want. I don’t specifically explain the circumstances of why they’re together, but it’s along the lines of the scene where Anakin confesses, except I write it… a bit differently. Hopefully you understand, lol. It’ll make sense the further you read. Enjoy!

( Also, please bear with me, I’ve never written anything close to this before. Don’t be shy to comment and let me know what you think of it! I’m always open to suggestions. <3 )

TW: really sappy smut, first times!

5.6k words

I always imagined that love was something you earned; something you had to deserve.

Something that I would never be worthy of truly receiving.

And as I watch the Padawan sitting on the velvety, soft sheets of my bed, I feel as though I am shattering my own heart with every second I allow him in my gaze. It’s as if he is reaching his calloused, worn hands into my chest and brushing his fingertips against the rapid beating of it. One more millimeter and he could crush my life without a second thought. And even though he was the one who tore apart my skin, it was his hand preventing me from bleeding out. Sometimes I can’t help but feel grateful, which is a very clear sign that I lost my sanity long ago.

I am in front of him and I do not pull away. I don’t want to.

I have never felt fear quite like it.

Although Anakin’s hand is not quite in my chest, it might as well be. A measly twelve inches separates us, his eyes searching into me farther than I have managed to explore myself. His lips move as words leave them, but I don’t know what. I’m embarrassed to admit that the sight of someone’s lips can distract me so easily. I know those aren’t just anyone’s lips, however.

“Y/n?”

My eyes snap back up to his, his eyebrows scrunched softly in confusion as he waits for me to answer.

“Hm?”

“Force,” Anakin laughs and shakes his head, resting his elbows on his knees. The laugh isn’t of amusement, that I can tell. “You aren’t even listening to me.”

“What? Yes, I am. I just have a lot on my mind. Keep talking. I promise I’ll listen,” I reassure him. He laughs again, the sound not warming me like it usually would. His head falls into his hands, his teeth shining as he smiles. “Anakin,” I urge, “come on. I’m listening, I swear.”

“Are you?” He turns his head to look up at me, his smile gone and something swirling madly in his eyes.

“Yes.”

“Alright. Then, what did I say?”

I pause for a moment, searching my brain and hoping that I subconsciously picked up his words. It’s not that I was ignoring him on purpose, that’s never the case. I was just preoccupied with other strange things happening inside of me. “You know what, never mind. It was nothing, anyways.” Anakin stands up quickly from my bed and I rise with him. “It’s late and you should sleep. I’ll be in the bedroom across from you.”

“No,” I grab his arm softly through his Jedi robe as he moves to walk away. I’m not letting him run away this time. “Don’t do that, Ani. Just tell me what you were saying. I can tell it’s important.”

His eyes lock on where I am touching him, his lips parting slightly. He seems frozen, lost in something that I cannot grasp. Suddenly, Anakin’s eyebrows furrow again, ripping his arm away from my hand. His eyes meet mine again, fire and so many other emotions stirring in them. “No. You don’t do that, y/n.” Confusion washes over me, the slightest bit of hurt emanating from his face and bouncing off my heart. His voice quiets, a darkness along with a familiar softness coating his words. “I am in agony and you don’t even seem to realize.” Anakin steps closer to me, his neck craned so he can meet my eyes. He’s so close and I am frozen. I feel his breath against my lips, his gaze against mine.

“Ani..”

“Can you not see how I am feeling? How I am practically begging on my knees for you to even look at me?” His voice is so low and I think my brain is short-circuiting and force, all it would take is the slightest movement for his nose to brush against mine. “You are the one instance I allow myself to feel anything at all, y/n. I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. And every moment that I am not with you, the worse my agony gets. It’s as if I am being torn apart. You are in my very soul, tormenting me. Every beat of my heart is throbbing for you, and I feel helpless.” He sounds so wounded, so seeking. “What can I do? I will do anything you ask.”

I am not usually at a loss for words. The thoughts in my head are cloudy and I feel dazed, almost as if my brain is trying to protect me from hearing what he is saying. I would rather die than allow that. Before Anakin, I had never let myself get attached to anyone or anything. I have duties that force me to be strong, independent. But he has sucked me in, and if I were to rid myself of him, he would take a large part of my person with him.

He looks into me like he’s searching for something, anything, and the pounding in my chest is increasing with every second of it. How are we both so blind to each other? He says that I do not see his feelings for me, yet he doesn’t see what I feel for him, either.

“I will get on my knees and beg for you, for any part of you, if that’s what you would like. Any part of you that you allow me to have I will worship. I already do.”

I have never felt the need to touch him more than I do now. I want to give him everything he’s asking for and more. I want to give everything that I have, everything I am, to him. I’ve been wanting that for far too long.

But I can’t.

“Anakin, we can’t do this,” I say quietly. I want to, I scream internally. I want to so, badly. “I’m Senator and you’re about to be a Jedi. We would ruin everything.” Nothing in his expression changes and I feel as though I am not doing a great job of convincing him, or myself.

“So you do feel something.” The corner of his mouth twitches just the slightest bit and I immediately curse myself for giving him hope for something that I can’t give him. “I don’t care about any of that. We can keep it between us and now that I know you feel anything, even the slightest bit for me, I will not stop. I won’t be able to. I will die trying to earn anything you will give me.”

He hesitantly reaches his hand to cup my the side of my face, his thumb stroking softly over my cheek. Am I dying?

“Don’t hide from what you feel. Don’t hide from me, because I cannot take it. I do not deserve you, I know that. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to. Don’t allow stupid, worthless rules to get in between this. In between us.”

Any resolve that I had before has now been thrown out the window. His voice is so gentle and pleading and an exact mirror of something that has been lurking inside of me since the last time I can remember. His thumb that is caressing my face is bleeding into me, filling my blood with a mixture of overwhelming fire, softness, and need.

“Anakin..” I close my eyes, fighting off my desires the best that I can. If I give in, everything will be destroyed.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, y/n. I will not let myself be your ruination.”

I want to fall. I want to lose myself in his deep, promising, dark blue eyes and never resurface. The longer I feel his touch the more I know that I am gone and I am not coming back.

And as I come to the realization that I will never be safer than where I am right now, that I will never be with someone who makes my heart pound as much as Anakin does, I lean closer.

I’m so close to him that I can see every individual blonde eyelash, every slight and rapid movement of his eyes as they flicker from my eyes to my lips. The only thing I see is Anakin. The only thing I know is Anakin.

Everything around us is still, as though even time has paused for us. The only sound is our soft breathing hitting each other’s lips, the crickets halting their chirping and leaving us in a loud bubble of quiet. He brushes his nose against mine, my breath hitching in my throat and my chest rising and falling harder with every second. Every action from him is small and hesitant, testing how I react.

My hand reaches forward, resting on the plane of his chest. He responds by snaking his fingers into my hair, tilting my head just the slightest bit, and causing my lips to brush against his just the smallest amount. A warm tingle flows through my body as I meet his eyes again. This time, there’s a question in them.

As an answer, I seal my lips against his.

I’m enveloped in a world of tenderness and warmth that I have never known before. As he just barely moves his lips against mine, I feel my heart shifting inside of me, flowing through the movements of my mouth. The first few moments are gentle, discovering. The next few are devouring.

He kisses me as if I was the last thread of life he was holding on to. As if I was the only light in a galaxy of darkness. In a planet of complete, utter beauty and peace, I have never felt so overpowered and overwhelmed. His lips are soft, searching into the deepest part of my soul.

He was wrong. I am not tormenting him, he is tormenting me.

Anakin tilts my head further, his tongue tracing my bottom lip and begging for entrance. I greedily let him in, wanting him to know places of myself that no one else has ever discovered. He sweeps in, tasting, caressing, and destroying me from the inside out. I trail my hand from his chest into his hair, my tongue now tangling with his, begging for as much of him as he now has of me.

A low groan rumbles through his throat, and I feel a fire inside of me that I have never known so intense than at this moment. His other hand grabs my hip, both of us stumbling back so he’s against the wall.

Anakin, Anakin, Anakin.

Anakin is now all that I know, and now that I have him, I don’t think I will ever be able to let go.

He kisses my lips until they’re swollen and pink. Until the room is no longer filled with silence, but the sound of his soft rasps and my small whimpers that I cannot stop from leaving.

Anakin’s hands are everywhere. My waist, the curve of my hips, my thighs, my hair, the sides of my face. It’s like he’s taking every bit of me insatiably, almost like he’s afraid I won’t let him do this again. This is all I’ve ever craved, Ani. This is everything I will ever need.

He groans again as I nip at his bottom lip, the sound stirring something deep inside of me. A fire is burning, and I don’t think it will ever be stopped. His lips move from mine to my jaw and down to my neck, sucking and tasting and torturing. I press my chest against him, needing to feel more. Needing more.

“Ani,” I moan, his mouth latching onto my collarbone. He lifts his head, his lips just as puffy as mine. He’s so, so, heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Tell me what you need, y/n. I will give you anything you’ve ever wanted. Anything at all.” His breathing is heavy, his chest rising and falling harshly. “You have every,” he kisses under my ear, “single,” he kisses my throat, “inch of me. I am forever yours.”

His pretty words fuel me like nothing else. I’m sinking, falling into an endless abyss of emotion and ruin, of beginning and end and nothing at all, but everything at the same time.

“Everything. All of you,” I beg, and I can’t seem to care that I do. For no man, for no person, I beg. But Anakin Skywalker makes me want and crave things stronger than I ever have before.

My tone isn’t lost on him, his head dropping to rest on my shoulder. “You can’t say things like that, y/n. You destroy me.”

“I mean it. Don’t reject me now, Anakin.” My voice drops to a whisper, vulnerability hitting me harder than I would like to admit, “Please.” I am yearning for a touch that can only be fulfilled by him, and by the madness spiraling in his eyes, I can tell he feels the same way. I brush my lips against his, communicating something that I can’t say with words.

His head rises from my shoulder, his eyes softer than I have ever seen them before. They’re bright and shining with a million unspoken promises that I could adventure in forever. Comparing them to the moons and the stars that surround us would be an understatement of the complete and torturous beauty that they hold, and the fact that they are focused on me makes my intestines swirl and my stomach warm.

“I will never hurt you,” Anakin breathes, his fingers tracing the edge of my jaw. “I adore you more than you could ever imagine.”

My breathing comes out shaky, my legs trembling softly. I have never wanted to hide as much as I do now, to shy away from the intrusion of Anakin searching into me so deeply. I am scared to my core.

But, I also don’t think my heart has ever been in safer hands before.

“I believe you,” I murmur against his lips. Something passes through his face, an emotion deeper than I can understand, yet.

“Will you let me take care of you, then?”

“Yes.”

Anakin immediately scoops me into his strong arms, holding me like I am glass in his hands. He kisses my forehead tenderly, walking over to my bed and dropping me on it softly. I watch intently as he steps back, me following his every move as he works to take off his belt. His eyes are burning into my skin, but I don’t care. I am mesmerized by every inch of that he uncovers. He has sucked me in and now I am forever locked in the depths of Anakin Skywalker’s heart.

He unravels the many layers of his Jedi Robe until the tanned, sculpted plane of his chest is revealed. I drink him in like I am dying of thirst. I can’t bring myself to be ashamed of my eagerness. How can someone be so perfect? I would be irritated if I weren’t absolutely overcome with adoration and desire for this boy.

He walks forward, climbing onto the bed and hovering over me. I absorb every detail of his bare skin, the small, old scars that litter his chest and abs, the newer ones that stand out more than the others. Every detail is beautiful.

“If you keep staring at me like that y/n, this will be over before it even starts.”

My eyes snap back up to his, my cheeks warming at his insinuation and the fact that I was so obvious. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. My stomach squirms uncomfortably, a mixture of scorching heat and fluttering butterflies making me blush further.

His lips curl into a familiar smile, full of soft amusement. “Don’t be nervous,” he says gently, reading my expression. “I’m just as anxious as you. More, even,” He connects our lips again, the heat inside of me flaring. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise,” he assures me and rests his hands on the side of my hips. “You are everything I have ever dreamed of.”

I bring his lips against mine again, this time more urgently. I need him so badly I feel like I am going to burst into a million pieces. His hands eagerly explore every curve of my body, his fingers fumbling with the zipper on the back of my black dress, revealing that he might truly be as nervous as I am. “Is this okay?” Anakin asks as he slowly unzips me.

“More than okay,” I murmur against his lips, greedily attaching my mouth back to his. I touch every bit of his naked skin, feeling every possible thing that I can. Anakin pulls away as he slips my dress down, his eyes devouring me as more skin is uncovered.

“Force, you are so beautiful. So unbelievably perfect.”

I shiver as he brushes his fingertips against my collarbone, down the valley in between my breasts, across the rest of my torso, and pausing on my thighs. His eyes lock onto my black lace panties, and the amount of heat in his expression makes me want to run away and climb on top of him at the same time. His pink lips are parted and there’s a small blush that lines his cheeks and neck, causing him to look more ethereal than he usually does.

Anakin leans his head down, gently sucking on the skin of my lower abdomen. I gasp softly, my fingers running through his short curls as he continues mapping my skin with his lips. He looks up at me as he slides his hand beneath my back, finding the clasp of my bra. I nod, him immediately unclasping it and slipping the straps off of my shoulders.

I see the exact moment his eyes turn from bright, shining blue into pools of darkness as he looks at my completely bare skin. He curses under his breath, the sound hitting me deep in my core. His lips quickly move from my abdomen to my breasts, locking onto the sensitive skin of my nipple. I feel as though I could burst right then and there.

“Akakin,” I whimper, the stimulation he’s giving me affecting me more than I thought was possible. He kisses and sucks and worships me with his mouth, every flick of his tongue and movement of his mouth sending me higher than I’ve ever been. An overwhelming wave of need washes over me and out of pure instinct my hips push upwards, causing me to grind my softness against his hardness. He groans abruptly and I decide then and there that I will be trying to earn that sound from him for the rest of my life.

He starts grinding his hips against mine as he torments my sensitive skin with his lips, noises leaving both of our mouths relentlessly.

More, more, more, I need more.

It’s almost as if he hears my thoughts, him pulling away just for a moment to fumble with his trousers. He doesn’t even bother unbuttoning them, instead ripping them open and causing a couple of the buttons to fly off. Neither of us cares. I pull his lips back to mine, helping him pull them down. He quickly throws them across the room, leaving both him in only his briefs and me in only my panties.

“Need you,” he rasps, “so badly it hurts.”

“Then take me, Anakin. I’m all yours.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whines as his hips buck against mine.

I’m on fire. I’m engulfed in flames, my body pulsing and thrumming with desire that has been boiling inside of me for far too long. I reach for his briefs, pulling them down quickly.

Oh, Force.

I must have said that out loud. A grin appears on his lips as he watches me stare at him, absolutely dumbfounded. He must have been sculpted by a god. Sparks of straight lava go off in my lower stomach,something inside of me tightening. Despite that, worry shoots through me.

I can’t handle that.

“You can take it. I know you can. I’ll be so gentle, I promise, y/n,” Anakin says softly. How can I possibly burn even hotter than before? “I’ll take such good care of you.”

Anakin’s POV:

I have never been in so much pain–so much pleasure–one time in my life. Desire is coursing through my blood, causing every inch of my body to ache. To ache for her.

As I hook my digits in her panties, I watch every shift in her expression. If there were even the slightest bit of doubt or regret, I would never forgive myself for making her feel that. As much as I have dreamt of this, fantasized about every small thing we could do, the last thing I would want to happen is for me to make her uncomfortable. I couldn’t stand myself if I did.

But as I look into her eyes, I don’t even see the slightest bit of hesitation. I see desire that is just as intense as mine, passion, and trust.

I pull her down her panties slowly, forgetting how to breathe. I’ve forgotten how to function.

So insanely perfect.

During the nights when want coursed through my mind, when I would think of her at the latest hours and in the naughtiest, sinful ways, I never could have imagined her so breathtaking. I was never even close.

I must be in heaven.

Hell, likely.

Her chest rises and falls quickly, the sight of her full breasts and peaked nipples sending me into complete overdrive. I trail my eyes lower, making sure to drink in every bit of skin. I spread her legs slowly, my gaze locking on to her bare core.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Hold it together.

I run my hands up her thighs, not looking away from the sight of her open wide for me. For me. I kiss the inside of her thigh, moving closer and closer to where I yearn to be.

“So pretty. So fucking pretty,” I murmur, kissing higher and higher.

“Anakin- Ani, please.” She hooks her fingers in my hair and I almost lose it. Her voice is so pleading, so soft, so full of heat. Please. She could ask me anything like that and I would do it. If she asked me to kill a whole army of men I would do it and I’d do it gladly. Fuck the Jedi code, she is what I obey now.

“Please what, y/n?” I ask lowly as she pulls me back up to her face, my body hovering directly over hers. My nose brushes against hers, our breaths mingling together. I can feel the heat radiating from her core against me and I genuinely have no idea how I haven’t completely lost it yet.

“You. I need you, now, Ani.” She grinds her hips up against mine, her drenched cunt brushing against my cock. I make a broken noise, my head falling against her shoulder. I’m gone. Absolutely gone.

“Anything. I’ll give you anything,” I pant. I force myself to look at her, softening my eyes. “You’re sure you want to do this? I wasn’t- this wasn’t what I was planning to happen. You don’t have to do this, y/n.”

I’ve never wanted anything more. Not only to have all of her but to give her all of me. I’ve been hers for a long time. I can wait longer for her to be mine if that’s what she needs. I’ll wait forever. From the moment I met y/n, I didn’t belong to myself. I belonged to her. My heart hasn’t been my own for quite a while and nothing would change whether she wanted to do this with me or not.

“I want to. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” She kisses my cheek and I practically melt into a puddle in her hands. I am at her complete mercy.

My forehead drops against hers, my hand moving to rest on her hip. I let out a shaky breath, positioning myself up to her core, but not allowing myself to touch her yet.

“Tell me to stop at whatever time, okay? If it hurts I want you to tell me to stop.” She nods and kisses me softly, my heart beating so fast I’m sure she can hear it.

“I trust you more than anyone,” she whispers against my lips and kisses my shoulder, and I would probably fall to my knees by the sweetness of it if I were standing.

I look down at where our hips are inches apart, grabbing my base and sliding myself up at down her heat, both of us shivering deeply at the feeling.

This is going to be over far too fast.

I meet her eyes one final time, looking for any indication she wants to stop. All I see is an intense look of heat and adoration, that I’m sure is on my face just the same.

I line myself up, unable to look away from our hips so closely together. I find a hard time believing this is real, even though I’m feeling everything so intensely. Being here, being like this with y/n might be the death of me. I’d be lucky to die like this. I’d thank the god that allowed me to be so close to her, only if it were for one time.

Both of us take one deep breath as I shift forward, taking that final movement to push myself all the way into her.

And then my world is shattered.

Y/n’s POV:

Anakin falls forward, his forehead resting against mine as he connects us completely. A choked noise falls from Anakin’s mouth, a noise so wonderful I would do anything to hear it again. I hold on to him like I’m dying because I think that I am.

He doesn’t move, letting me adjust to the new feeling. The truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to adjust to this. I feel so incredibly, overwhelmingly filled.

The first thing I feel is fullness, the next, sharp, stinging pain.

It’s a kind of pain that I would go through over and over again.

“Are you all right?” Anakin asks, his voice so full of worry it makes my insides go even crazier than before.

I take a deep breath, the pain slowly subsiding into something else. Something more intense. “Yes,” I plead, “you can move.”

Anakin stays still for another moment, before pulling all the way out of me and then plunging back in. My face twists, a completely indescribable feeling hitting me so hard I lose my breath. My mouth opens into a small “o” shape, small whimpers leaving my mouth as he moves slowly.

He’s being so gentle I could cry if I weren’t on the brink of exploding into a million small pieces.

He brings his lips down to mine, searing me in a kiss that could end worlds, create entire galaxies. As he continues to move, the pain fades away, bleeding into pleasure so extreme it’s like he’s sucking my soul out of my body and pushing it back in over and over again.

The noises that fall from his mouth I’m sure were sent from heaven just like the rest of him. Some of them are deep and guttural and sometimes when my body tightens around his, a small, whiny sound leaves his lips, each and every one causing pleasure to spike through me.

“You feel so f-fucking perfect. So tight. I can’t- fuck,” he groans loudly as my cunt clenches around him. It’s like my body is trying to trap him inside of me, like it’s trying to prevent him from ever leaving. He’s practically molding himself into me with how much I’m being stretched, my walls constricting and tightening with every deep thrust.

“Ani, so- so full,” I moan, my fingers hooking into his short curls, my eyes not being able to leave the sight of him thrusting in and out of me.

“I know, I know. You’re taking me so well, doing such a good job, y/n.”

If I didn’t know for sure that Anakin was a virgin before this, I wouldn’t have ever believed he was. It’s like he knows exactly what spots to hit, how hard to go, and what will make me spiral.

Full is now not the right word. Complete is.

I watch his face as he looks at where his cock is impaling me over and over again, a complete look of awe on his face. His lips are parted and his eyebrows are scrunched, everything indicating that he’s in just as intense a state of pleasure that I am, maybe even more so.

His hand snakes in between our bodies, his thumb reaching my clit and pressing softly. My eyes squeeze shut, sparks going off and short-circuiting my brain. “Ani- Anakin,” I cry.

“Being so g-good for me. It’s like you were fucking made to take me, y/n,” Anakin groans as he slams his cock into me so deeply I feel like I’m being split in half. My eyes roll back, my back arching instinctively, pulling a sound that’s almost a whimper out of Anakin. “Beautiful, so beautiful.”

My pussy clenches around him so tightly I’m almost worried it hurt him, but he makes the loudest, most broken noise that I’ve heard come out of him yet.

“I- I- y/n, I can’t hold on. You feel too good, it’s too much.” His face falls into the crook of my neck, my arms cradling his head softly. He thrusts into me relentlessly while still keeping his movements gentle. I moan loudly into his ear, something in my lower stomach tightening and tightening. “Keep making those pretty noises, y/n. Please.”

The almost begging tone in his voice causes my heart to swell in my chest. He sounds so beautiful. I push my hips up to meet his, creating friction that causes both of us to let out excruciatingly loud moans. “An- Anakin-” His eyes roll back and his hips stutter, his thrusts becoming desperate.

“Fuck, fuck,” He hisses, “you’re squeezing me so fucking tight. Doing so, so amazing.” He rubs his thumb faster against my clit, my mind going completely blank. His groans turn into whimpers as his thrusts get sloppier, him clutching onto my hips so tightly they would probably leave bruises in the morning. I don’t think he realizes it, since he would immediately stop if he did, but I want to have marks. I want to have a reminder of what’s happening right now.

I feel this unexplainable tingling in my abdomen, the pleasure becoming so immense it’s like I could physically snap.

“Come for me, y/n. Let me feel you, okay? You’re safe with me,” he says softly, and the words make the rubberband inside of me tighten. I pull his lips to mine, both of our moans mixing. And as I wrap one of my legs around his back, he slides so deep into me it’s like I can feel him from my face to the bottom of my toes.

“Ani, I’m gonna- I think-” I cry out, sparks of white flashing behind my eyelids and my toes curling.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n,” Anakin pants as he pushes into me one final time.

And then, the world erupts around us.

My eyes squeeze shut, my fingers tightening in Ani’s hair as he slumps on top of me, his face nuzzling into my neck. My mind goes fuzzy, everything turning into a blur around me as I hold on to him for dear life.

Anakin’s body twitches and practically melts into my arms as he fills me to the brim, his hips still moving in and out softly, riding us through our insanely intense highs.

“Anakin, oh, force,” I whimper.

“I know. I know,” he mumbles into my neck. He presses soft kisses on my throat and collarbone, rubbing my hips with his thumbs softly. He pulls back after letting us catch our breath, a sudden look of worry on his face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“It was perfect, Ani. Don’t worry, okay? You were so, so perfect,” I reassure him, kissing his jaw.

I notice the hint of vulnerability in his eyes and I bring my lips to his softly, wanting to wish away every bit of his insecurity. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” Anakin whispers against my lips,

“You’re my love. My home.”

Note: I really hope this isn’t super insanely boring, lol. This was my first time ever writing smut or anything like this at all, so don’t go too hard on me! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! If anyone has any suggestions on things you want me to write, I’d be happy to do it. <3

[veryberryjelly]

is it really that big ?

tara carpenter x fem!reader ( set at the end of scream 6 )

cw :

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

maybe this was the end.

maybe there would be no more ghostface and your group could finally be free of it's terrifying clutches.

that was all that was running through your mind as you were rolled out of the shrine you had spent the last what felt like forever fearing for your life again.

that, and where tara was.

you didnt care about the knife wound in your leg preventing you from walking, you just wanted to know where she was and if the two of you could finally live your life without the looming threat of death.

it was only really when the paramedic peeled back your jeans to look at your wound that you were brought back to the unbelievable amount of pain you were in.

before you could sit up to have a look at how bad it was, an oxygen mask was lowered onto your face.

it didn't help.

neither did the face that they were pressing down hard on your leg to stop you from bleeding out.

you tried to focus on anything else, anything you could see or hear.

you caught onto the back end of your name being yelled from outside the ambulance and then someone banging on the back doors.

" tara ?" you questioned, more to yourself than anyone else.

the doors were opened and the moment you saw her face it was like everything else did just fade away.

" oh thank god, i lost you in there, i didnt know what happened to you " even in her slight ramble you couldnt help but smile a little, your hand absentmindedly reaching to grab hers.

" what happened to your arm ? " you questioned, your question slightly muffled by the mask over your face.

a smile spread over her face at your question.

" you've got an eleven inch gash down your leg, and you're worried about my arm ? " she asked incredulously.

" it's really that big ? " you asked, moving to turn your head and take a look at it but the small tug on your hand from tara stopped you from diverting your attention.

" that's what she said " she joked causing both of you to giggle.

that was the last thing you could pinpoint before waking up in a hospital bed.

though the warmth of tara's hand still remained in yours.

when you recognised it, your hand moved on it's own accord, squeezing her warm hand in yours.

" hey " she said simply, watching as your eyes fluttered open.

" hi " you responded, taking in the rest of the room. including the uncomfortable vinyl chair tara was perched on.

without really saying anything, you shifted across your bed, making enough room for tara's smaller form to come up next to you.

she decided not to question you and instead climbed up onto the bed, settling into your side.

her arm draped over your stomach and yours lifted to wrap around her shoulders.

" maybe that's the last of them " you mused, hoping to finally be able to relax.

" i hope so. i wasn't sure how much longer i could have taken this " she replied, burrowing her head further into you as your grip tightened on her.

" maybe i can actually take you on a date without a fear of getting stabbed ? "

even if it was probably too soon, the room filled with giggles

[aettuddae]

business matter — chapter 58.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

all the lights in seoul went out. although the girl had not yet fallen asleep completely, the shock after the blackout had awakened her. once she understood what was happening she might have gone back to sleep if something hadn't abruptly crashed into the door and then slammed it open, without her even getting out of bed. from the dark house, serim emerged holding her phone that had the flashlight on and once inside the room she aggressively kicked the door to close it.

"what are you doing…?" karina whispered.

before she could hear her, serim made an olympic leap towards the bed where the blackhaired woman was resting and, ignoring the complaints and pushes that she gave her to get out of her bed, she managed to hide under the sheets. they both fell silent and then only serim's heavy breathing could be heard.

"what's going on?" the youngest asked stoically.

“what's going on, karina? there was a blackout." she said obviously.

“yes, serim, i can notice that, but why are you in my bed?” she spoke into the air since jang was completely covered.

“promise me you won’t laugh.” she asked.

“i won't laugh." she assured, already trying to hold back her laughter.

from beneath her, in the part of her body that was underneath the blanket, she felt serim poke her abdomen with her little finger. karina tried to stop her, but she continued until she understood what she wanted and put her hand under the coverlet, with her pinky extended, and she intertwined it with serim's, sealing her promise.

“i am very afraid of the dark.” she admitted. “since i was little, i could never get over it.” she sounded upset, like she was having trouble breathing. “i hate to thank you, but luckily you're here because i don't know what i would have done if i was alone during the blackout.”

“are you still afraid of the dark?”

"do not judge me!"

"i'm not!"

serim began to poke the contrary's abdomen repeatedly and quickly to annoy her, to which karina tried to get away from her and catch her hands to make her cease the action. out of nowhere, a loud crash was heard causing serim to let out a sharp scream of terror accompanied by a jump on the mattress, and then move disastrously and frantic trying to cover every small hole that led to the outside, messing up the bed, and approaching karina to cling to her body so that she would save her from whatever the threat was. due to the position in which she had ended up after so much rolling around on the bed, the closest extremity of yu within her reach was her legs, so she hugged one of these tightly.

“serim, serim.” she tried to detach her from her leg without results, so she rested her hands on her back. “it was the neighbor upstairs colliding with a chair, nothing's wrong, don't worry.” she patted her skin, frustrated at having to take care of a 26-year-old. “come, get out of there.”

the youngest took the girl by one of her arms and carefully pulled it upwards, trying to get her out from under the covers, but she resisted, clinging to her body tightly so she could stay there below.

“no, karina, i can’t.” she refused, her voice fragile. “what do i do if the boogeyman is out there in the dark?”

“the only thing out here in the dark is me and the oxygen that is not reaching you right now.” she continued to exert force. “namu, don't worry, i'm here.”

“i don't know if i'm more scared of the boogeyman or you.”

"come here." she finally got the older girl to uncover herself and take her head outside, although now holding on tightly to her shirt. “it's okay, you're scared, i'm not going to do anything bad, don't worry.” she tried to calm her down.

barely seeing her image with the little light that filtered from behind the curtains of the room's large window, yu noticed that her hair was a mess due to all the movement she made before, so, leaving a hand on serim's shoulder, she took the other to fix the locks that were in her face.

“you don't mind me sleeping here, do you?” jang asked weakly, fear and vulnerability impossible to hide.

“five minutes ago i would have told you to leave, but now that i see that you are seriously terrified of the dark, i can't be that mean.” she laughed softly. “what does it say about myself if you choose the boogeyman instead of me?”

“i could make great jokes about you and the boogeyman, but i'm scared so maybe another time.” she said with a sad voice and her lips forming a pout.

the blackhaired found that comment cute, so she couldn't resist a light smile, and giving a caress to the girl's cheek, as if it were a reassuring, friendly pat. she turned her body that was on her side facing serim and lay down on her back, but the oldest didn't move, instead she took advantage of her change of position to wrap herself around her arm and hide her head on her neck.

“namu, you can't sleep so close to me.” she carefully tried to push her body.

“i need to be touching you to know that there is someone and not be afraid.”

she babbled with her face still between karina's shoulder and jaw, moving to circle her torso and hold onto it, lacing her fingers with the fabric of her pajamas that draped over her ribs. by hugging her more securely, the young one could no longer separate her from her, and on the other side, she only felt her getting closer and closer. due to the little space between their bodies, the vocalist's nose constantly rubbed against the other's skin, and this one couldn't help but be distracted by this detail.

“why is your nose cold?” she asked in a low volume.

the girl returned to the previous position she was in, standing on her side, face to face and impossibly nearer to serim, who, due to the motion, remained holding the youngest in her arms, and upon noticing this, she rested her hands on her waist and lower back to press and attract her towards her.

"i have no idea." unlike her voice moments ago when she was scared, now her words came out in a serious deep tone typical of when you just woke up, still in a whisper.

yu held her face gently between her fingertips and moved closer to her, brushing their noses lightly once, taking a second to appreciate the sensation of the recent touch on her skin before lifting her chin again to rub her nose against jang's again and then maintain that contact for a moment, going back and forth slowly and tenderly, until she brought her lips to the opposite tip and left a kiss there.

before separating from her, serim moved towards her to capture her mouth with her own, but karina turned around, lying face up, quickly, avoiding the connection.

"i can't, i have a boyfriend." she remembered, that sentence coming out between labored breaths, as if she had just run.

serim rolled on the mattress, ending up on the opposite end of it, the back of her hand falling on the dancer's chest, keeping contact, she gave a frustrated sigh.

“so, you don't do it because you have a boyfriend,” she reiterated. “not because you don't want to." observed.

"think whatever you want." yu dismissed her, returning to the same sour tone with which she always spoke to her, adjusting her pillow to go to sleep.

“karina." the woman called after a moment of complete silence.

"now what?" tha named one asked tired, she was sleepy.

“can you hold my hand?” she asked shyly.

“namu…”

“it's not romantic at all, it's just that i need to be in contact with you to be reassured that there is someone else and i'm not alone in the darkness.” she explained honestly.

the youngest didn't react, so serim thought that she would not pay attention to her and so began to breathe with difficulty as she became aware of the lack of light again and felt helpless in it, but before she lost her composure she felt the touch of karina on her skin, sliding along it in search of her hand. the oldest made her task easier, tapping on her to make it simpler to find it. yu then wrapped her palm around jang's thumb, holding it steady, bringing calm to serim, and finally helping her fall asleep.

(!)

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[luviwon]

brat tamer jay spanking reader for misbehaving 😵😵 reader's hands tied above her head with his tie and since he was too pissed off to remove her clothes, he just slipped the straps off her dress off. Going feral rn. Oh and I read 'alluring me' and it was soo good you have a way with words and you do it so well. I hope your blog reaches even more success <3

\\ thank you for your sweet words, love! i hope you enjoy the short drabble, please don’t hesitate to come to me again <3

“will you ever learn from your mistakes?" jay asked, biting his cheek and crossing his arms in annoyance. you found yourself hanging in front of him, your hands tied to the coat rack. "i’m sorry," you whispered, too afraid to meet his eyes. you could feel the weight of how much you had upset him this time, and it was clear he needed to vent his frustration. "let's see for how long you can handle this," he stated.

before you could answer, with a swift, angry motion, he unbuckled his belt and pulled it free from his waist, holding it firmly in his right arm. the leather felt heavy and the metal clinked softly as he moved. his eyes narrowed, and without a second thought, he turned to face you. the sight of him gripping the belt tightly sent a rush of shivers through you, your heart racing in response. it wasn’t much of a fear tense, but an unexpected impatience to be punished by him.

you did him wrong and you needed to be taught a lesson, right? he needed to discipline his bratty girl. your wrists started to get sore in the tight knot formed by his tie, your body feeling heavier as he stepped closer towards you. with a sudden flick of his wrist, he swung the belt up into the air, the leather slicing through it with a sharp crack that echoed off the walls. you knew what to expect.

you wore a dress that felt like liquid silk, the deep sapphire color wrapped around you perfectly, highlighting your curves and drawing in the light. jay stood close, his gaze intense and hungry. he held the cool leather of the belt in one hand, while the other slowly reached for the delicate straps of your dress. his fingers brushed against your skin, sending a thrill through you. as he harshly pulled the straps down, a shiver ran down your spine, igniting every nerve. the straps slid off your shoulders, exposing your collarbone and upper chest.

“be quiet and it will be finished soon” he whispered, unable to hide away a sly smirk.

with a sudden movement, the cold material of the belt hit your round ass with a powerful gesture, making you whimper and move your body forward, while biting on your lower lip to prevent yourself from disturbing his silence. it took jay just another second to spank your butt again, this time harder as satisfaction grew inside him. the view of you crying out and taking your punishment so well awakened something within him.

“does it feel good being reminded to stay a good girl, princess?” he stated, pulling your dress lower to fully expose your perky tits. without second thoughts, he spanked your breasts with the same belt, admiring the red mark formed already on your skin. it looked so good on you, the pure evidence of his punishment. it looked even too good that he had to do it again, harder, another set of marks forming along.

it hurt so much but it felt so freaking good that you couldn’t help but lightly moan out his name. jay noticed how your nipples hardened after the painful impact, only making him chuckle ironically “aren’t you such a nasty girl for enjoying this?” he asked on a sarcastic tone. “jay, that’s no-,” “your nipples say it all” he breathed, lowering his face down to give them a small nipping.

whimpers couldn’t be avoided as you were a whole mess, half naked with red marks on your chest area, much likely under your dress as well. if he wasn’t so pissed off, maybe he would have lifted your dress too to give you a proper punishment and turn your ass into a whole different colour. but wouldn’t that bring you even more pleasure? what kind of punishment is it then?

“jay,” you whispered, crossing your legs as soon as you felt his mouth on your sensitive buds. he stood back up, bringing the belt upon your ass again, seriousness growing on his face. it was all fun and games until he actually needed to make sure you will be obeying from now on. “it will be so sore to even sit down after i finish with you” he ‘assured’ you, spanking your ass again, feeling the pain growing each time, just as your moaning did.

[noroi1000]

hii noroi! saw you opened your rq for 2 weeks 👀 neways- can i rq angst where reader dies bc of mahito? like what happened to nanami and how stsg react? i live for the angst!!

Too weak

Heavy angst warning!!! Character death!!!

Summary: You thought you were strong enough to fight without their help...

You slowly walked down the alley when you knew your boys were waiting on the other side.

You kept a hand on your very hurting side.

You told them that you are strong and as a special class you will be able to defeat the special class. You told them you would go alone and when you were done you would come back to them. And you also said that if you needed help, you would call them. Because you wanted to show them that you can be as strong as them.

But you were too weak.

You had to run away. That's why you ran between buildings and when you didn't feel like you were being chased, you stopped running and walked towards them.

You didn't want to die. The wounds should be normal for a Jujutsu sorcerer.

But this thing wasn't a wound. Your whole side was black. It hurt so much. As if the pain radiated throughout your body. You couldn't speak without whimpering.

There was no blood on your clothes. But this terrible pain prevented you from doing much but suffering.

There was a ray of hope in your soul that they would help you and you would return home. Everything will be fine

"You were supposed to be strong. And you are. But you can't be untouchable, can you?" Your opponent's words echoed in your ears.

And his sadistic smile couldn't fade from your mind.

With each step you took, you felt your bones breaking. As if it was made of such a fragile thing.

You ignored the pain you felt and kept walking.

But the moment you saw your boys, you just gave up and lowered your body to the ground.

Sitting against the wall, you called out their names quietly.

"...Satoru....Suguru..." Your lips were dry and you thought that nothing could moisturize it.

You just want them to overcome the curse and take you home. So that you can be together with a smile.

But why was everything blurry outside of their figures?

When their eyes landed on you, they were a little scared.

You were sitting on the ground, tiredness visible on your face. They ran up to you, checking your condition.

"(y/n), are you okay!?" Suguru began to check you over completely. His hands explored you and you gave him a weak smile.

You came back after half an hour. And the fact that you are here may mean that you have won or escaped.

"...It's just a little scratch..." You coughed slightly. "I was just too weak for it."

You gave them a weak-eyed smile.

You always wanted to see them in the last minutes of your life. Be with them. But you don't die. It's a small wound that just needs treatment. You are alive. You don't die. You are here with them all the time.

"Too weak for this... Sorry..."

"You don't have to apologize." Satoru reassured you, moving your hand away to check your wound. "Suguru, can you take care of this curse?"

"Maybe we should take care of (y/n) first?”

"You can leave her to me! I can take her to Shoko now!" he said with worry and a smile to calm down the situation.

You couldn't see it, but your skin was so pale. Your veins throbbed as you sat in front of him. Your skin felt so very hot despite how it looked.

And there were darker circles under your eyes. You looked completely different than half an hour ago.

You had to get care quickly. Therefore, the best way will be to take you directly to Shoko. But you're conscious. That's why it's good.

"Should I change her soul into the shape of a rabbit? That would be fun! You finally released a little defenseless bunny for my amusement!" A voice echoed through the alley.

Your eyes widened as you knew he hadn't stopped chasing you.

You reached for Satoru's uniform, but suddenly you couldn't feel your body anymore and you fell limp in his hands.

"(y/n)!"

You felt your lips become wet. But it wasn't saliva or water. It was much more dense.

"Such a little soul! It was sweet! I would like more sorcerers like this to play with! Experimenting on special grade sorcerers is exciting!"

You felt a great pressure in your head whenever he spoke. Like something was about to burst your skull. At the same time, your side hurt so much.

"Please hold on a little longer! I'll take you to Shoko now!" Satoru shouted and tried to pick you up. But as soon as he wanted to get up, he felt like your body was crumbling from the inside. As if you were so fragile and one squeeze could break you.

Suguru looked in horror at the black cracks on the skin of your hands. Several of them had small drops of blood oozing out.

Feeling weaker from the pain, you breathed a little weaker. Your vision was blurry. You couldn't see anything but their faces.

The terror in Suguru's eyes as he set his curses for protection when he also wanted to take care of you.

"...There is no time... Toru..." you moaned weakly, feeling nothing but blood on your tongue.

In the distance, you heard a quiet psychopathic song about a dying rabbit.

If it were Suguru's voice, you would be calmer. But it was the voice of a curse that wanted to watch you suffer, slowly killing you before their eyes.

You just wanted to go home...

Have you asked for too much?

Was that too much of a desire?

You were too confident to fight this curse... You went there without help...

Was your desire to go home really too much? A dream that can't come true?

„The bunny lay in tears, For me is time to cheers~”

Since when have you been crying?

Or maybe it's true...

"...Toru... Sugu... I'm sorry... I was too weak..." you jerked hoarsely.

"No no no! It'll be fine soon!"

"...Sorry... I just... Wanted to go home...to much..." You moaned, not knowing he had said anything as your ears were filled with the same thick liquid as your mouth.

You forced your aching facial muscles to show them a smile.

"...I just want to... Go home–."

Your breath hitched suddenly as the imaginary song in the background ended.

„And for the song end, The bunny is just dead.”

Blood flowed from all over your face as your breathing hitched and your body became as soft as marshmallows in his arms.

All they could hear now was the chuckle of the curse behind them. And their own breaths as they watched your body not move at all.

"...(y/n)...?" Suguru whispered, unable to breathe for a moment. And then he looked at the petrified face of Satoru whose blindfold began to drop tears onto his cheeks.

With a muffled whine, he moved your body closer to his, hugging you. Suguru grabbed his neck, resting his forehead on his shoulder as he was terrified by the sight.

"Aww... I wanted more fun... But this was fun too!"

What will be the most painful death for the curse?

Almost kill, absorb, release and torture until death. Watching the suffering.

Just like they had to lose you, that curse with the stitched face will lose the smile from its face...

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 Cramped

Abduction CW: Toys, abduction, claustrophobia

(Reader's) skin chaffed against the plastic tub they were folded into. They couldn't see what was going on, but it felt like their container was on wheels, and it occasionally would hit a rock or snag on a bump, jostling (Reader's) body uncomfortably.

They didn't remember what happened, they were walking towards their apartment after work when there was a sudden pain across the back of their neck, then they woke up inside what felt like a large plastic tote. There were holes drilled in the side so (Reader) wouldn't suffocate, but something large and plastic was fixed to their head, filling their throat and preventing (Reader) from screaming for help.

And the worst part wasn't the bare skin being rubbed raw, but the hot arousal between their thighs. Even if there was a light, (Reader's) body was contorted in a way where they wouldn't be able to look down at themselves to investigate what was going on. Their skin itched from the wetness as they came over and over again, being overstimulated without end. (Reader) wanted to cry, but even with the little hole near their face there wasn't enough oxygen with how (Reader) was panting through their nose.

Their legs were pressed into their stomach so tightly that their feet were falling asleep and (Reader) couldn't get a solid angle to kick or squirm.

"Break time!" A familiar voice cheerfully quipped as the lid popped off loudly. The sudden light hurt (Reader's) eyes, illuminating the woman like a halo. "Do you need to go potty? Or have some water?" She held out a water bottle. This woman was one of (Reader's) regular customers, a tiny little thing who always shook and stuttered at the checkout.

Her trembling fingers unlatched the gag, pulling the attached dildo out of (Reader's) throat. The sensation of the warm plastic dick sliding out over (Reader's) tongue was accompanied by another orgasm, spilling out between their legs and mixing with their sweat. (Reader's) abductor's eyes went wide, and she had to bite her lip to prevent a giggle from escaping.

"Why...?" Was all (Reader) could get out.

"I'm sorry about this, sweety! But you'll be a lot happier when we get to our new home." She brought the bottle to (Reader's) lips, bending at an angle where (Reader) could see up her skirt; see her soaked underwear. "It was really hard getting you here, but it was worth it. You're worth it."

Her eyes violated (Reader's) sore body, but (Reader) was too weak to cover themselves up. As (Reader) drank from the bottle, the woman reached down, grabbing something and tugging. There was something in (Reader's) ass.

They yelped, splashing water over their face as they suddenly became aware of the thing in their butt. (Reader) had been so focused on the electrical pulses across their nerves forcing them to cum that they hadn't paid attention to the foreign object in their backside. She pulled harder, a bead plopping out.

"Please stop.."

The toy taped to their front was still on, rhythmically throbbing against their swollen and irritated sex. (Reader) shook as tears threatened to fall. However, this seemed to excite to woman more.

"I followed you home, with this big, two person tub. It was difficult finding one that was big enough to fit a person, but also small enough to prevent any wiggle room. I'm sorry that it's cramped in there, but I couldn't give you any room to struggle! You should be impressed, I got ya with my stun gun and had you fall into the bucket! I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to carry you in my arms.. but I've been weight training, so one day.." She began rambling, hyper fixating on the way (Reader's) asshole puckered and clenched as she continued pulling out the anal beads.

A phone beeped in the woman's pocket, distracting her. "Ope, looks like we've got to get a move on!" The toy was roughly shoved back into (Reader). They cried out in a wave of pain and pleasure, cut off as the fake cock was forced back down their throat; it's textured veins and bumps stimulating (Reader's) mouth as the gag was locked into place.

She placed a loving kiss on (Reader's) sweaty forehead, ignoring the quivering of their thighs as (Reader) failed to fight off another climax, adding to the puddle in their bucket.

"We'll be home soon~"

The lid was clicked back into place, enveloping (Reader) in darkness once more.