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joelsgreys · 5 months

Text

safe and sound

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Your daughter has a nightmare—her daddy makes it all better.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. set in Jackson. slight canon age deviations (Joel is 56, Ellie is 17) READER’S AGE IS NOT SPECIFIED. she’s a child bearing adult woman so do with that information what you will. established relationship, reader and Joel have a toddler (her age is not specified in fic but she’s 3 ish years old), reader has NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION and neither does their child except she has Joel’s eyes and his dark curls, no mentions of her skintone. Joel and Ellie are fine bc he deserves it, Joel’s an overprotective girl dad, reader is the chill parent. implications of a toddler being told about clickers, bad dreams, almost smut, Joel and reader get cockblocked, SOFT Joel who comforts his babygirl, mention of Sarah towards the end. very minimal editing.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: listen, i love me some daddy joel but tonight i needed a bit of actual daddy joel. this was whipped up last minute bc i haven’t had the best weekend and needed some comfort. also i didn’t have the mental capacity or energy to come up with a moodboard, so gif it is.

Joel looks down at the old, worn book in his hand.

Winnie the Pooh.

He never would have imagined it. This.

Reading a bedtime story to a toddler. His toddler.

He’s in his fifties—he shouldn’t have a toddler.

He shouldn’t have a teenager, either.

Yet, he has both.

The toddler has his blood, the teenager doesn’t.

But that doesn’t matter to him.

Joel still considers her to be his own kid.

Only, she’s not a kid anymore, not really.

She’s seventeen now. She doesn’t need him much anymore, not the way that his toddler needs him.

“Ellie’s not coming home tonight,” you’d said from where you stood at the stove, stirring in chunks of potato and chopped carrots into the pot of stew in front of you. “There’s a birthday party down at the bar. She’s going with Dina and Jesse.” You can feel the look of disapproval on his face and add, “I said she could go, Joel. She asked me permission.”

“She didn’t ask me,” he’d gruffed. He looked down at the little girl sitting in his lap, scribbling away on an old state map. He had given it to her along with the pack of crayons he’d found during patrol when his group stumbled across a schoolhouse. Though crumbling on the outside, the inside had remained untouched throughout the last two decades—little coats hanging over the back of little chairs, papers scattered all over little desks, little lunch boxes still stored in their cubbies at the back of the room. He instructed the group to search for anything useful, anything that Jackson’s teachers could use for the children in their classrooms. Joel knew that taking without trading was against the rules, but that did nothing to stop him from secretly slipping the box of crayons into his jacket pocket when no one had been looking.

His daughter’s squeals of delight when he’d gifted them to her had been well worth the theft.

“Because she knew you’d say no to her.”

“I would have. Kid’s got no business going to a bar at her age. She’s fuckin’ seventeen years ol—”

The little girl had gasped and stopped coloring.

“Daddy said a bad word.”

You’d turned around and glared at him. “He did.”

She looked up at him with her wide, brown eyes.

Those she’d gotten from him. His dark curls too.

Everything else?

Her smile, her nose, her softness?

That was all you.

“M’sorry, babygirl,” he apologized, sheepishly.

“S’okay, daddy.”

And back to coloring she went.

“Joel, let’s face it. Ellie’s growing up. She’s turning eighteen in a few months and truth is, she has one foot out the door.” Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the counter. “She was telling me how she wants to turn the garage into her own space.”

“There a reason she ain’t talkin’ to me ‘bout this?”

You’d smiled wistfully at him.

“Because she knows this is hard for you, Joel.”

It is hard. Because even though she isn’t his, she’s his and he’s afraid to lose her somehow.

Joel manages to snap himself out of his thoughts.

Rosemary’s now fast asleep, her well loved stuffed bunny rabbit wrapped in her arms. She’s a handful for him during bedtime—she has too much energy and most nights, you have to step in and help him. But tonight, after her bath, he had warmed a glass of milk for her to drink and it seemed to have done the trick because within minutes of him reading to her, her eyes fluttered closed.

Joel sets the book down and leans over to brush a kiss onto her cheek, quietly whispering goodnight. “Sweet dreams, babygirl.”

He switches off the lamp on the bedside table and steps out of his child’s bedroom, being careful not to wake her as he closes the door behind him.

“I still can’t believe she fell asleep within minutes,” you say, staring at him in utter disbelief. “How?”

“Gave her a glass of warm milk before I tucked her into bed,” Joel explains, tugging on a pair of faded black sweatpants. He peels off his shirt and tosses it onto the floor before climbing into bed. “Worked like a fuckin’ charm. She’s out like a damn light.”

You set your book down and raise an eyebrow.

“Joel, I brushed her teeth before her bath.”

“I brushed them again after she drank it, darlin’.”

He outstretches his arm, beckoning for you.

Grinning, you scoot closer to him, draping an arm over his bare chest. “It’s only nine,” you tell him. “I have no idea what we’re going to do with all of this free time we have. Rosemary’s asleep, Ellie’s gone for the night.” You slowly drag your hand down his chest and over his stomach, a finger skimming the waistband of his sweatpants. You hear the way his breath catches in his throat and tease, “I guess we can actually get some good sleep for once, huh?”

Groaning, Joel rolls over and pins you down to the bed as he positions himself on top of you, his eyes glazed over with lust. “We can sleep,” he murmurs as his mouth hovers over yours. He reaches for the buttons of his flannel you’re wearing and begins to single-handedly pop them open only to find you’re not wearing anything underneath. He groans once more. “Or I can make you feel good. S’your choice, baby.”

You gasp as he nips at your chin and starts trailing his lips lower, peppering kisses down the length of your body. Heat blossoms in your lower belly as he settles himself between your thighs. Hooking both arms around them, he nibbles at the soft spot that is right below your navel, the spot you hate, but he adores. Having a child had changed your body and while you two seldom had time to yourselves to do anything of this nature, when you did find time, he never failed to make you feel like you were still just as beautiful to him, if not a thousand times more.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Please, Joel.”

“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?”

His voice is low, husky.

Your hands reach down and tangle in his curls.

“Your mouth, Joel. Please. I need your—”

The sound of a teeny knock at the door makes you both freeze on the spot.

“You heard that, right?” you ask him breathlessly.

There’s a second teeny knock.

It’s then followed by an even teenier voice.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

“Fuck,” Joel hisses, scrambling off the bed. “What the hell is she doin’ out of bed?” Picking his t-shirt up from the floor, he quickly throws it on, ignoring that he’d put it on inside out. Watching you as you fumble to button his flannel, he calls, “Just give us one second babygirl, alright? We’ll be right there.”

“I’m decent,” you tell him, getting the last button.

Nodding, Joel opens the bedroom door. His knees protest when he squats down, lowering himself so that he can meet Rosemary’s tearful gaze.

“S’matter, Rosie Posie?” he asks her in a soft voice that he reserves for his girls. “What happened?”

She sniffles. “I—I had a bad dream, daddy.”

You sit on the side of bed and wait patiently.

Joel has it handled. He always has it handled.

He never stopped knowing how to be a father.

“You had a bad dream?” he repeats, frowning.

Rosemary nods, clutching her rabbit to her chest.

A single tear slips down the side of her little face.

Joel reaches out, gingerly wiping it with his finger.

“M’sorry it scared you, babygirl. Tell you what, just for tonight, how about you sleep with me and your mama in our bed? That sound good?” With a small labored grunt, he scoops her into his arms. She is getting heavier and you often tell him it’s not good for his back—he can’t care less. He’ll keep picking her up until the moment his little girl decides she’s a big girl and doesn’t want him to pick her up. Joel carries her over to the bed and sits her on your lap and reminds her, “But this is just for tonight, Rosie Posie. Tomorrow night you’re back in your own big girl bed, alright?”

“Okay,” she nods again and leans against you, tiny shoulders slumping.

“Rosie? What was your dream about?” you ask her gently, wrapping your arms around her. She hardly ever has nightmares—she’s too young to know the world outside the commune’s walls, smart but still too little to understand why she cannot go outside the gates. “What did you dream about, honey?”

She hesitates, then answers, “Monsters.”

“Monsters?” Perplexed, you glance at Joel.

He seems to be just as confused as you are.

“Who did you hear that word from, babygirl?”

“Robbie.”

Your neighbor’s unruly, troublemaker son.

Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “Thought I told you he ain’t allowed to be around her. The kid is nine, ain’t got no business bein’ around Rosemary. Little brat ain’t nothin’ but a bad influence. He’s always up to no good.” He shakes his head at you. “Said I didn’t want that boy anywhere near our daughter.”

“The kids were out playing in the snow today,” you remember. “He must have been there too. It’s kind of hard to tell who is who when they’re all bundled up and flinging snowballs at each other, Joel.” You shoot him an apologetic look. “Rosie was having a blast playing with everybody—I’m sorry. I suppose I should’ve paid more attention to who was around her.”

He bites back a sigh. He knows it’s not your fault.

Rosie’s too good of a girl, too pure and innocent to know that not everybody is her friend.

“Rosie, what did Robbie say to you?”

Again, the child hesitates.

“He said—he said monsters live outside. They bite people and turn them into monsters too. He said it happened to his daddy.” Rosemary’s eyes flit from you to Joel. “He said it would happen to you, too.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “He said that to you?”

Hands curling into fists, Joel reminds himself now isn’t the time to let his anger take over. “S’not true at all, babygirl.” He reaches over and slides her out of your lap and onto his. Like you, he wants to lie—tell her those monsters she was told about are not real, that they don’t exist. But they do exist and as much as he wishes he could keep her from finding out about all that lies beyond Jackson’s walls, Joel knows that one day, she will. “Listen to me. M’real sorry to hear ‘bout Robbie’s daddy, baby. But I can promise you, that ain’t gonna happen to me.”

She points a chubby finger at you.

“What about mommy?”

“Ain’t gonna happen to her either.”

Rosemary drops her hand, fear clear in her tone as she asks the both of you, “What about me?”

“Of course not,” you say, smoothing back her dark curls. “You’re safe here, honey. As safe as can be.”

Joel nods. “Your mama’s right, darlin’. You’re safe,” he reassured her. “You’re safe and sound.”

“I am?”

He gives her body a warm, gentle squeeze. “Mhm. Always will be. Y’know how I know that, babygirl?”

“How?”

“‘Cause. As long as daddy’s around, he will always protect you,” he promises her. “He’ll never, ever let anythin’ bad happen to you, Rosie. I swear it.” Joel kisses the top of her head, his gaze meeting yours. He murmurs his oath quietly, “On my life.”

Flashing him a small, grateful smile, you reach out and touch his forearm and he places his hand over your own.

“And mommy too?” Rosemary questions him.

“And mommy too.”

“And Ellie?”

“And Ellie,” he nods, firmly. “M’always gonna keep my girls safe. S’long as I’m around, you’re all safe.”

Rosie tiredly snuggles into his chest, yawning.

“What about you, daddy?”

“Huh?”

You squeeze his arm. “Think she’s asking you who is supposed to keep you safe, Joel.”

The little girl nods sleepily. “Yeah. Who?”

“Well.” Joel’s throat bobs nervously. He knows the moment he says what he’s about to say, there’s no going back. Not that he never planned to tell Rosie about her sister, but he’d always imagined doing it when she was older and understood death. “I—uh, I have an angel in the clouds who looks out for me. She watches over me, keeps me safe and sound.”

Rosemary’s curiosity is all that is keeping her from completely passing out in his arms.

“Really? You have an angel?”

Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. “Joel—”

He lightly shakes his head.

“S’fine sweetheart. I don’t mind tellin’ her.”

Rosie’s fighting to stay awake just a little longer.

“Daddy? What’s your angel’s name?”

Joel answers in the steadiest voice he can muster.

“Her name was—her name is Sarah.”

“Sarah,” she mumbles, her eyes closing. “S’pretty. Your angel has a really pretty name.”

“The prettiest name,” you agree, softly.

Rosie yawns again. “Daddy?”

“What is it, babygirl?”

“Will you tell me stories about Sarah? Please?”

Joel chuckles, rubbing her back. “I sure will. I have plenty of them to tell, Rosie Posie. But not tonight. I’ll save them for tomorrow ni—”

You cut him off. “Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s out cold.”

He glances down and sure enough, she’s asleep.

Moments later, the three of you are in bed. Rosie’s in the middle, curled up against Joel’s chest—your chest is pressed against her back but you’re being careful not to sandwich her in too tight in between your bodies.

In a beam of silvery moonlight shining through the bedroom window, you meet Joel’s gaze.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He chuckles. “For what? Doin’ my job and soothin’ our daughter after a bad dream?”

You smile at him.

“For being so good to her. To me and Ellie.” Lifting a hand, you reach over and cup the side of his face in your palm. “You’re so good to all three of us and I can’t even imagine what we’d do without you.”

Joel turns his face, brushing a kiss into your hand.

“I mean it,” he says, quietly. “S’long as I’m around, you girls will always be safe and sound.”

credit divider @saradika-graphics

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #fic: safe and sound

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genshxn · 8 months

Text

dan heng being bad at feelings, the sequel.

started writing this pre-1.3, so i am once again emphasizing that i am making shit up. (well, 1.3 dropped while still working on this and the TB mission was rather lacklustre, so i'm gonna half ignore it).

sorry for any typos/mistakes/whatever, most of this was written at dubious hours of the night.

contains. mild-moderate canon divergence, dubious jing yuan shenanigans, dh being somewhat down bad. i dropped a bit too much spice in, so it is no longer “mild”. take that as you will.

7.5K words. THIS IS SO FUCKING EMBARRASSING.

here's the first part in case you haven't read it. you're still not the trailblazer.

tags: @akhiran @cypunk-0 @fiona782 @seelelovesbronya @bleakqblake @xiaos-poems

this place is not a place of honour. no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here…nothing valued is here. Below 15, DNI. Go away.

the next day, you awoke to a feeling of emptiness at your side. any part of the bed that your limbs weren’t splayed upon was long cold with dan heng’s absence. you were alone, still left in the nest of sheets and pillows he arranged himself. it couldn’t have all been some kind of fever-dream, could it?

no, any such possibility was dashed when you looked at the messages on your phone. one unread, left two hours ago.

with the ellipsis and all. oh, the self-inflicted misery. (does he really consider every single person his enemy?) you sighed, swinging your feet off the side of the bed to get up. if you knew him well enough, then you already knew the next little while was going to be tricky, to say the least. it was obvious what his plan was from the beginning, with him abandoning your side at the sun’s first rays: avoidance.

and avoid you, he did. in the denouement after phantylia’s attack, he still had to be around you, but the stiltedness he carried with him was palpable. he made a point to stand as socially acceptably far from you. it was almost like he was acting like a ghost solely to you. elusive, non-communicative, only seen out of the corner of your eye. perhaps leaving you with the lingering feeling of being watched, and ultimately gone before you could even call his name. in fact, he quite literally ghosted you. he wouldn’t even respond to your messages.

once the day after the final events rolled around, you thought that maybe he would have had enough time to finally be able to face you again, but no. apparently he elected to confine himself to the archives the moment he returned aboard the express. however, this didn’t deter you from going knocking on his door.

"dan heng?" you tapped on the sealed door. your ear was right up against the frame, listening intently.

whatever shuffling was coming from within fell still at your voice.

"dan heng, i know you’re in there. i just heard you stop moving."

there was more silence, then followed by a sigh. "did pom-pom not relay my one request?"

"no, they did. told me that i’m not allowed near the archives."

"yet you’re still here…" his voice was strained, and distant from the door. he must have been sitting either at his desk or on his thin, messy futon. beyond that, it was hard to imagine what he was doing in there, or even what he looked like. it was surprising. you thought he struggled to control his form, but it seemed no problem when he wasn’t with you. so was he the regular old dan heng sitting in there? or the vidyadhara that laid next to you that night?

"you really think i’m gonna listen? i never do." you squared yourself further towards the door. "now, c’mon. we’re already talking, so can’t you just—"

"n-no, i can’t," he cut you off. "i… i’m sorry, but not here, and not like this."

"can you at least tell me why you say you can’t be around m—?" almost as if on cue, in came an angry pom-pom inbound like a squishy freight train.

"hey! what did pom-pom just say?!" they cried. "can’t you follow one simple rule for the time being?"

as pom-pom ushered you away from the archives with weak thumps to the back of your legs, you grunted to yourself. you were tempted to chuck them in the opposite direction, but alas, such a thing was not in the cards for you. after all, it would be wise to not tempt fate with the conductor. things seemed like they were going to be more difficult than you anticipated.

░░░░░░░

early the next morning, long before either march or stelle would rise, you shuffled your way into the parlor car in search of food. if it was going to be anything like yesterday, you were anticipating being the only one in the parlor car. however, to your surprise, there was another person present when you silently closed the door behind you—dan heng. he was in his regular appearance of shorter, fluffy hair and his regular attire. you sighed as quietly as you could, staring at the back of his head that leant on his wrist, propped up on the table. seeing him staring dejectedly at the food was a sorry sight.

the unspoken tradition you had with him was that when the whole express wasn’t eating together, it’d always be you two sharing your meals together. it began when you first joined the express—after dan heng himself, but before march. left adrift as a vagrant amidst the stars, you were all too familiar with the feeling of loneliness. it was always at its worst when you managed to gather together enough scraps to resemble the meals you used to eat in your old home. to you, when possible, meals were something that should be shared in the company of others. so when you first saw dan heng sat alone on your first proper morning aboard, you saw part of yourself in him. a part that you wanted gone, now that you had a new home. so you sat yourself down next to him, your own food in hand. you were met with some minor (albeit polite) resistance, but you being the stubborn ass you were, would not have it. you knew your persistence was risky, but it paid off. not long after that, he would wait until you were sitting with him.

so to see that sight left you saddened, but also vehemently annoyed. normalcy was out the window thanks to this baffling, self-imposed restriction he had against you. as quietly as you could, you stalked up behind him. moving as lightly as possible felt like it was the only way possible to get closer to him. it wasn’t like he developed a sudden allergy to your presence or something, was it?

you were successful in thwarting his pre-occupied senses as you reached the velvet couch. but maybe you were too successful, because he almost leapt out of his skin when you planted yourself down next to him. you leaned against the table and spoke. "how about us talking if it’s over breakfast?"

he did manage to calm down, but not by a lot, and not enough to give you a reply. his expression was still frazzled as he struggled to keep himself in place.

"can you please tell me if i’ve done something wrong? i don’t understand why we’re suddenly like strangers again," you said, reaching out to put your hand atop his one that was clenched at his side. but he snatched it away before you could feel the warmth of it.

"it’s my fault. you’ve done nothing," he said. "but please, i need some time before i can talk to you properly."

he turned to get up and leave, but you caught him by the sleeve. "w-wait, by why?" you trailed off, voiced far weaker than intended.

the look he gave you was weird. it was a jumble of confused emotions, but the most you could make out was nervousness. you had no idea what that light flush could have meant for you. his mouth parted to make some sort of reply, and you could have sworn you the glimpse of sharpened canines. "since when have you had fangs in this appearance?" you blurted out after doing a double take.

his eyes flared wide open and a hand flew over his mouth. "s-since never." with that, he slipped from your grasp. "please excuse me."

you watched incredulously as he walked out of the parlour car and back towards the archives as if he had wooden knees. you had no idea what just happened. rejection, you supposed. but considering how he was that night, it made no sense. nothing about this made any sense.

whatever it was, it was slowly eroding your patience, leaving you biting the inside of your lips in irritation. it’s true you were doing some type of avoidance when his alternate form was finally revealed, but it was nothing of this calibre. it was almost impossible for it to be the case with dan heng, but if this really was some kind of petty revenge, he may as well have whipped out a steel chair after you knocked shoulders with him.

░░░░░░░

your shameful failure of an interaction left you in need of recuperation. you hadn’t felt that irked and downright baffled since one of herta’s curios fell on your head. so now, you were blathering a ranting tirade at stelle and march over some snacks, all in the parlour car. "i swear to whatever aeon’s listening, he’s turned emo or something." you folded your arms across your chest, sinking down in your plush chair.

"like he wasn’t before?" stelle mumbled, not looking up from whatever gacha game she was playing on her phone.

"eh, not really. he does have his moments, though." march shrugged, grabbing a single chip. "but yeah, i’ve never seen anything like this. it’s so weird, he almost never avoids you like this!"

"hence why i’m so confused."

"things seemed to get pretty tense between the two of you after he had his magical girl transformation," stelle added while shovelling a handful of chips into her mouth, still not looking up. "then maybe… the day after phantylia, he got even weirder."

"yeah, like, he won’t go near you for some reason, but he keeps staring at you so longingly and sighing like you’re the last cookie in the jar and he’s been told he can’t have any more!" march said with the melodramatic flourish of a swoon.

"that one sounds like it’s based on real experiences." stelle cast her a sideways glance, to which march let out a sniff and wiped away a dry tear.

"just how much has he been doing that?" you muttered, unable to comprehend.

"a fair amount from what i’ve seen. he’s looked like a kicked puppy every single time," march said. "well, as much as dan heng can look like a kicked puppy."

"not that he’s particularly talkative, but i’ve tried asking him about it. was only met with howling winds of jarilo-vi’s everwinter storm." stelle placed her phone down on the table and sat back with her arms crossed. "but now, he’s just being straight up weird. (y/n), what’d you do to him?"

"yeah, i mean, he won’t even eat in the mornings if you’re there!" march cried.

your nails dug into your knees as you looked at your lap. you could feel a heat creeping onto your face as you recalled him so close to you. his words still rung in your head. if they were true, then what the fuck was he doing now? "i—i don’t really want to say, since it’s between him and i," you said. "but some pretty… significant things happened, i guess."

march suddenly drew in a comically loud gasp. "DID HE FINALLY CONFE—" she began, but you clapped your hand over her mouth before she could finish.

"must’ve," stelle said, leaning forward with her hands on the table loosely clasped in front of her.

"it wasn’t… exactly like that." your voice was low. your attempts to protect your dignity were feeble at best. it’s true, he never explicitly told you he has feelings for you in the classic format of ‘i like you’, but… who were kidding, it was a confession in all forms except literalness. you grabbed at your face, hiding the creeping heat behind your hands with a groan.

"no, it was totally a love confession. he’s been head over heels for you for a while now! even when i first met you two, it was so obvious he had a big ol’ crush on you. how’d you not notice it?!"

"cuz they’re denser than dan heng." stelle deadpanned, staring right at you.

"if you’re going to be making indirect insults about me, at least do it to my face," a familiar voice muttered from somewhere a distance behind you. in walked dan heng, eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose. he was once again in his normal appearance. stelle immediately squashed you down beneath the square table, leaving you only to look at everyone’s legs.

"oh, so the elusive dan heng finally graces us with his presence, huh?" you couldn’t see march’s face, but you knew she was making a half-lidded, unimpressed frown at him—the certified march classic.

"i’ve had a lot of information to collate and put into the archives, so i’ve been busy—" his words stopped short. from around the bend of the chair’s edge, you could see him inch closer to the table.

"been busy what? you just stopped talking." march sounded confused.

"is that… (y/n)’s scent?" his tone was far sharper, but his wording sounded unsure.

"are you calling them stinky? that’s kinda rude, isn’t it?" march frowned.

"huh? no, of course not!" he sputtered. "it’s just v-vidyadhara senses. they’re quite acute." there was the shuffling of some fabric. he must have crossed his arms.

"well i say it’s cuz you’re going heehee-silly-delulu with your big fat crush on them." march chimed in. your eyes widened as you frowned. why were they both baiting the literal dragon?

the only sound that came out of dan heng was something like an indignant cry that was cut-off at its head. "i… i do not—"

"you don’t like them? alright, keep telling yourself that," stelle said.

"…what hand does (y/n) have in this? they were just here, weren’t they?" he took a few steps towards the table. you imagined him with a strained look on his face, fighting to keep his composure like he yesterday. as he was stood right in front of you, you felt yourself shrinking back. it was maybe only seconds until ground zero—until everything hit the fan. "because that’s their scent nearby…" he changed his footing just a touch, and the second you saw the tips of his fluffy hair peak down past the table, you launched headlong into him. not by your own volition, but because a heeled boot slammed into your lower back, jetting you forward. your face collided with some part of his legs (of which was not very soft), sending you both in the same direction with simultaneous cries. there was a significant thud when dan heng hit the floor, and your head knocked into something bony.

your eyes cracked open, rubbing your forehead with a groan, but all sounds fell silent when you realized you were hovering between his knees. you stared up at him with wide eyes and a stifled breath, where he met your owlish gaze with his own. in other words, you were almost right between his legs. both of your faces lit like infernos, but neither of you moved. a grand total of two seconds passed before the vidyadhara features came out. it was quick—his horns rose from his head, and his hair spilt over his shoulders. his tail appeared behind him, laying still. even his clothes suddenly swapped out on him. his chest rose and fell as his breath seemed to quicken.

"s-sorry," you swallowed thickly. in almost an instant, he dug one of his clawed hands into his arm. he clambered to his feet, unable to look you in the eye.

"wh-what the hell was that?" his voice cracked.

"fuck, that was my bad." stelle said from behind you.

"ngh, you… please excuse me," he quickly turned and strode back towards the archives, still holding onto his arm. you hadn’t moved from the floor when you watched the passenger cabin’s door close behind him.

"what the heck, stelle?!" march cried, startling you.

"holy fuck, i’m so sorry. i did not think it’d go like that," stelle said. when you looked back over, she was leaning back and had raked her bangs back, hand still on her forehead.

"how did you think it’d go?" you groaned, unsteadily raising to your feet once again.

"i dunno, but not like that."

"why’d he suddenly change like that, i wonder?" march tapped her finger to her chin, looking off to the side.

"cuz he’s down bad." stelle looked very confident in her answer.

you almost choked on your spit.

"he’s down bad, but then he keeps running off 'cuz refuses to let himself be so."

"what kind of a theory is that?!" march huffed.

"a simple observation. mr. yang says i’m perceptive, so i have final authority on all judgements ever made." stelle crossed her arms over her chest, face seldom making any expressions. "and i say exactly what i said."

you stood with your head hanging in your hands, burning with embarrassment. things couldn’t keep going on like this. if this was the new dynamic, then how were any of you supposed to function while you’re out trailblazing? how were any of you supposed to function even just normally? that was it. you raised your head until your eyes lifted from behind your hands, a new resolve filling your blood. maybe jing yuan might know something.

░░░░░░░

managing to secure a time to speak to jing yuan was unbelievably easy. then again, you should gave guessed it’d be. over messages, he told you that since he’s been doing nothing but resting, he’s incredibly bored—someone to see or speak to is more than welcome. and so, it quickly was organized that you could stop by a planned location in aurum alley to see him.

the time soon rolled around, as long as it took. during the day, as expected, there was no sign of dan heng having any interest in interacting with you normally, much to your growing irritation and mild chagrin. even march and stelle were shaking their heads and clicking their tongues in disapproval.

it didn’t take long for you to get there. you agreed to meet him in a small, secluded area, just out of the way of eyes that might seek to pry into the general’s private business. it was a bit into the early evening. it wasn’t too hard to find him sitting at his table since he wasn't exactly the most conspicuous person out there. the golden artificial sunlight poured in from an oblique angle overhead, coating the tucked-away courtyard in a honeyed light. once he saw you approaching, jing yuan cast you one of his usual sleepy, cattish smiles.

"um, hello," you spoke, pulling out a seat next to him.

"and to what do i owe the pleasure?" there was almost a purr in his voice. "tell me, what is it you wished to speak about?" he leaned forward, resting his head on his wrist propped up on the table. "or did you simply come here to chat with me because you felt like it?" he made a closed-eyed smile laced with mischief.

"ah, i’m sorry to disappoint, but it’s because i’m having a bit of a dilemma." you scratched the back of your head with an awkward laugh. "please hear me out on this one, but it’s about dan heng."

"oh, dan heng? what about him?" jing yuan tilted his head. "as it stands, i’m afraid you might know him better than i do, unfortunately. so i don’t know if i would be able to provide the best of help for you." there was a faint, bittersweet smile on his lips, making you bite your own.

"it’s, ah, a little more about him as a vidyadhara, i suppose. i’m not sure if he has anything in common with his previous incarnation, but i thought there must be something there."

"well, i can say his obstinance seems to have certainly survived reincarnation."

"it’s thriving," you huffed, at which jing yuan lightly laughed.

"so is that the root of your problem? him being too stubborn on something?"

"that’s about it, yeah." you pressed your lips into a line. "he’s been avoiding me for… reasons i won’t divulge… and i don’t what i can do to get him to talk to me again."

"you don’t need to put it like that. i can tell he really likes you," he said, the trace of a smug grin on his face. after you coughed loudly, he continued. "he’s rather obvious if you know what you’re looking for. but anyway, what happened between you two? if i’m allowed to know, that is."

you swallowed nervously. should you really be revealing everything like this? you did it anyway. "one night, we said a few things of… i guess questionably romantic nature to each other, and he reacted in a way that i think was influenced by some sort of… vidyadhara shenanigans."

jing yuan looked at you with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. "go on."

"he hauled me off to his bed and then got uncharacteristically affectionate. he had a back-and-forth with self-doubt once he realized i was really confused by it all, but i told him it’s fine. i mean, i even pet his horns out of my own volition and stuff." it was all coming out at this point. "then he eventually drifted off and then pretty much declared his feelings in his half-sleep. but even though i told him i’m fine with him doing whatever he was doing, he still decided to run off the next morning. i’ve tried to talk to him repeatedly, but he won’t reply to my messages and he almost freaks out every time i’m in his vicinity. i don’t get it!"

"mm, that’s quite the situation on your hands there," jing yuan hummed. there was a mischievous spark in his eye, and you weren’t sure if you liked the look of it. "now, i couldn’t tell you the specifics, but if you say he got ’uncharacteristically affectionate’, then that’s definitely some old vidyadhara response. they can get very protective over the things they love."

your gaze dropped somewhere in front of your as your face prickled with heat at his words.

"but now, i’d wager he’s stuck in some sort of self-imposed battle of will against himself."

"and how would you suggest i get him out of it?"

"i suppose there is technically the option of waiting this out," he glanced at your face. you looked embittered at such an inane suggestion, making him laugh. "or you could simply make him lose the battle, since it sounds like he’s set on taking it ad infinitum, if needed."

"small issue… i’m now allowed near the archives," you sighed, leaning yourself back. "it’s hard to simply go there with both the conductor banning me as well as dan heng refusing to open his door."

"hmm…" jing yuan shifted his hand beneath his chin. "might i do something a bit uncouth?"

"uhh, okay."

"come here for a moment." he slid himself next to you, turning to face you a little more. with a slight frown, you turned towards him as well. "now, i can’t guarantee his reaction to this, but—" he suddenly pulled you closer toward him and placed his head in the crook of your neck—the same side dan heng had his. one hand snuck its way around your neck and held the base of your neck ever so gently, while the other looped around your back. you had to fight a shudder when you could feel jing yuan’s lips ghost over your neck and shoulder. "if i do this, it may be enough to knock him from this cycle of his."

"wh-what?" you strained out.

"he’ll be able to tell i’ve been with you. and by the places i’ve been in contact with you…" he said, voice low. his faint breaths were cool on your shoulder. you couldn’t suppress a slight shiver. "…it should be enough to grant you access to�� the archives, was it?"

"y-yeah." you blinked a few times. your brain had been reduced to a single cell bouncing around inside your brain like a shitty maraca.

jing yuan finally pulled back, assuming his original pose. "please forgive me for that… but you’ll likely see why i did it." he still couldn’t help but wear his usual small grin for the second part. "i’d now recommend that you find him again, and try to keep his attention long enough for him to notice you were with me. vidyadhara’s senses of smell are perceptive, so it shouldn’t be long. well now, you’d best get back then." his stupid grin was even wider and even smugger. his gaze wasn’t condescending, but read more as if he were thinking just wait and see.

"i… guess i’ll be going then. th-thank you, general." you made an awkward bow as you hustled back the way you came, hyperaware of the air brushing against your shoulder. it all felt incredibly foreboding… but that was to be expected when you were about to enter the dragon’s den.

░░░░░░░

your plan was flawless:

1. jing yuan does his shit

2. go back to the express.

3. bait with bubble tea to get the door open.

4. "talk" to dan heng long enough until he notices jing yuan was up to something

5. ???

6. profit.

just as detailed, to further your chances of getting that door cracked open, you decided to buy a bubble tea. a classic milk should have sufficed, since he tended to favour the more simple things. the chances of him actually opening the door to take it were already slim, but desperate times called for desperate measures. knowing him, he’d simply make you leave it at the door, which was a problem. so there you were, stuck on an express couch, plotting. (or, perhaps more aptly, chewing your nails in nerves). as you sat there, in waddled pom-pom, looking mighty chuffed for some unknown reason.

"hm-hm-hm! dinner of pom-pom’s own creation will be ready in just over 20 minutes!" they declared, puffing their stuffed chest. they waited for any reaction, but no one looked up at them, making them deflate with a scowl. "stelle, (y/n) you go tell everyone," they grumbled, shuffling back into the passenger cart and beyond.

"wait, what?" you looked up—you hadn’t even noticed them.

"we’re on messenger duty," stelle said from her seat. she was placed upside down on the couch, hair grazing the ground while she played her usual gacha games.

"can i try and deal with dan heng?"

"i mean, sure." she looked over at you. "but what’re you plotting?"

"my entry into the archives. i come baring gifts." you motioned towards the untouched bubble tea sitting in front of you.

"i’ll leave you to it. i’ll go tell march and the others then." she chucked her phone elsewhere on the couch and got up, wandering towards the passenger car. you followed shortly behind, offering in hand.

it was a short walk. you knew you were being dramatic, but you couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous the closer you drew to the archives. you had already weathered so many rejections, so it’s not like this was going to somehow have a worse result. perhaps it was because you put too much on this. you’ve gone to a rather large effort just to have a slim chance of getting him to open the door—speaking of, you were already there.

you raised your hand to knock on it, but before you could even lay your hand on it, dan heng spoke from inside. "what is it, (y/n)?" he was once again somewhere further off in the room, speaking with undecipherable emotions.

"um." your voice cracked, making you cringe. "pom-pom said dinner’s ready in 20."

"ah. thank you," he said plainly. it still kinda stung, being back at what felt like the stage where you were only acquaintances.

"i also got you something." you tried to cast another line.

"you can leave it at the door."

you flopped your head against the door. of course he said it. "i’d rather give it to you now. it’s some bubble tea. the ice is melting." there was no response. you couldn’t tell what he was doing. "c’mon, it’s not like you’re sick or something."

"hah, more like lovesick," stelle called as she walked past behind you.

"stelle!" dan heng cried indignantly. he sounded closer to the door. "i am not—"

"if you’re not, then open the door." she simply kept walking.

you were stood with wide, unblinking eyes and an open mouth, watching her jacket pass through the cabin door until you were left alone in the hall. the door suddenly slid open a little. you jumped, turning to stare up at him. as usual, there was a strained look on his face that he was trying to suppress. "see, i’m not—" he looked out and around for stelle, but she was nowhere to be seen. instead, he simply sighed.

you tried to swallow your heart beating in your throat, but it still hammered away. "hi."

he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the inner door frame. "hello," his voice sounded tired. tired with himself. "please forgive me for how i’ve been acting. i know it’s not fair to you. it’s just…"

"i know, you need more time. you like to say it," you muttered with a slight, strained grin. "by the way, here’s your tea. it’s just your usual order." you held it out it to him, and he looked down at it with softened eyes. as he went to grab it, his fingertips brushed over yours. he seemed more startled than you, but after a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hand back over top of yours.

"i haven’t been completely honest with you," he said. (that was certainly one way of putting it).

you held your breath, as if making a single noise could suddenly startle him back into the archives.

"i… since that night, i haven’t known what to do with mysel—" he suddenly paused, frowning the tiniest bit. he leaned forward, seeming to concentrate on something with closed eyes. once they opened again, his pupils had constricted into slits, and he was staring intently at you. uh oh.

"wh-what is it?"

"where were you before this?" he took the tea from you and placed it somewhere next to the door frame inside the archives.

your stomach flipped. was this really going where you thought it was? "um. i was wandering around aurum alley." it wasn't a lie. "why?"

"that’s not all. what else?" he took you by the arm and drew you into the archives. it was an uncharacteristic mess in there. low-lit, and with clothes, books and items were strewn all over the place, perhaps as a reflection of his state. you watched the door close behind you, and when you looked back, there stood dan heng with his full vidyadhara look on display, right in front of you. uh oh.

he stepped closer to you until you could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him, then grabbing hold of your shoulders. it was a tight grip, but not enough to hurt yet. he dipped his head into the crook of your neck and drew in a long but quiet inhale. "what were you doing with jing yuan?" his voice was low, almost with a slight growl. as he spoke, his arms had wound around shoulders, so he was holding the back of your head, just like jing yuan was. only far harsher than the other’s ghost-like touch.

yes, this was going the direction you thought it was. "we—we only met to talk about something," you sputtered out, your heart in your throat again.

"then why do i smell him on you, as if you were doing something more than just talking?" with a free hand, he took your jaw and turned your face towards him. he was only inches away from you, gazing at you with narrowed, dimly-glowing eyes. "why go to him when you have me?"

you frowned, eyes wide. "huh? what do you mean i have you? you’ve refused to speak to me normally ever since the morning after you hauled me to your bed. besides, i-it’s not what you think."

but your words were lost on him. "no, this won’t do." his voice was barely a murmur. he seemed to be living in his own version of the world. dragon-brain was back, evidently a fuller force than ever. you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t him drawing you even closer, placing his head in the crook of your neck and nuzzling. your face lit like an inferno as some kind of noise escaped your lips. it was really back to the nuzzling. only with surprising fervour, this time. he nestled his face into your neck, exhaling small sighs against you. his nose and lips brushing against your skin was almost ticklish, but you weren’t laughing when his tail snaked itself around your hips, twining itself down one of your legs.

"d-dan heng?!" you cried when he suddenly lifted you with his hands clasped beneath the backs of your thighs, assisted by the tail. he had his mouth placed right over top of your collar bone, watching where he was going from over your shoulder. "dan heng, put me down!" you had to hold onto his back and shoulders for stability.

he gave you no reply, only taking you back to his mussed futon. similar to his bed at the inn, the blanket was strewn in a way akin to the base of a nest. stray pieces of clothing made up the rest of lack-lustre structure—you could have sworn one of your own old shirts you’d forgotten somewhere was poking out from beneath a different article. dan heng sat himself down in the centre of the futon and brought you into lap. your position was a bit awkward as you sat perpendicular across from him. both your legs went one direction while your torso was turned to face him. he sunk his head into the crook of your neck again, drawing in more, shorter inhales.

"seriously, wh—what are you doing?"

"he’s still on you." he said against your shoulder, warmth breath making you shiver. there was a slight growl in his throat again.

"even after that?" as you spoke, he tilted your head away, exposing more of your neck. "hey, w-wai—ah!" you made a cry of pain when a pair of fangs suddenly bit down into your shoulder. it wasn’t hard enough to draw much blood, but more than enough to hurt. you shuddered with some ungodly, almost harrowed noise when his tongue glided over what would blossom into a bruise. his arms and tail wound tighter around you, as if you might slip away at any second. he moved on, this time toward your jaw, peppering it with desperate kisses. you tried to say his name as he trailed down in between his own rapid-growing breaths. he was panting once he reached your shoulder, his kisses sloppy. in some work of miraculous dexterity, he had readjusted your seat on him until his waist was slotted between your legs. all the while, one hand was in your hair angling your head for his best reach, the other around your back. you had to hide your face in his hair when he had began making small vocalizations, something like tiny whines.

you said his name again, this time louder when he trailed his fangs back up your shoulder. right after he left a hot kiss on your shoulder, he bit down again. you seethed in pain, trying to push his head off, but you were only met with purrs. even though he didn’t seem fully aware of what was going on, those purrs had to be weaponized against you. he shifted to another part of your shoulder, mouthing another kiss on it, but before he could bite, you grabbed his horn.

"dan heng!" you yanked his head back, surprising him. but instead of some sort of pained cry, he let out a heady moan. to your surprise, that noise slipping from his mouth seemed to restore his lucidity in an instant. his dilated eyes shot wide open and his hands flew to cover his mouth, almost sending himself backwards in the process. his face burned with embarrassment, colouring his cheeks and pointed ears in a bright crimson. you huffed, but didn’t remove yourself from your position. in fact, you anchored yourself down by locking your ankles behind his back if he were to try and push you off.

"(y/n) to dan heng, can you hear me?" you said, almost tempted to knock on his forehead.

"i-it happened again," his voice was quiet in horror.

"hey, i need you to listen to me before you clam up on me again." you brought one hand to the side of his face, gently making him look up at you. he jumped at the contact, sending his hands further up his face until they were covering his eyes.

"please forgive me," he rushed out.

"look at me," you said softly, placing one hand on top of his to move it to the side—one of his faintly glowing eyes glanced at you. "i’m more happy to make out with you, but we need to talk first."

he made a strangled groan of embarrassment in answer, moving his hand back in place again.

"are you listening?"

he nodded.

"alright, the whole thing with jing yuan was me asking about you," you said. "i thought he might know a bit about you as a vidyadhara and your behaviour, so i went to ask what i could do to get you to let me into the archives. his idea was a less than tactful, but i guess it worked. that’s why ‘his scent was on me’, as you say. he only stuck his head on my shoulder for a bit because you’d be able to tell and then demand an explanation or something."

his fingers had parted to show his eyes again, and they were staring in bewilderment.

"so, i’m sorry for doing all that to you." your voice was soft. "i just wanted to see you."

"no, i should be apologizing. i have no control of myself and i haven’t been fair to you." he lowered his hands to hovering somewhere over his chest. "i was saying before… since that night, i have been an embarrassment. all i’ve wanted to do is steal you away and… smother you in affection until you returned it. the feeling was so intense that i didn’t trust myself around you, so i hid. i thought if i waited, it’d calm down, but it really only made it worse."

your heart swooned then and there, lighting a fire in your cheeks. "o-oh… so if i did return it, then you wouldn’t act like a lovesick ghost anymore?"

"hey." he frowned, but his face soon fell back into the same flustered expression from before. "but to answer you, maybe after a while. i could also just get worse… but i really don’t want to subject you anything you don’t want." while he couldn’t meet your gaze, he still leaned his head into the palm of your hand. with a sigh, you held his jaw and angled his face to look at you again.

"how many times do i have to say i don’t mind? you can’t seem to fit that one through that thick vidyadhara skull of yours." you did actually knock on his head this time, making him wince.

"i—i don’t know, i just get embarrassed." he hid face his face against your chest, face a shade redder and his ears drooping. "you also always look so shocked. i don’t want to do that to you."

"that’s only because you tend to forget any kind of warning," you said with a light laugh. "truly, i like it—when you give me warning, that is—because i really like you too, stupid."

his breath audibly hitched, and he raised his head back up. "t-too? but i’ve never said—"

"are you kidding? you don’t need to say it when the aeons and their grandmas know. even march says it’s obvious. you’re seriously worried about that after you’ve made out with my shoulder sloppy style? by the way, what was with the bites?"

"ngh, don’t word it like that." his tail that was still tangled around you thumped against your back indignantly. "…and the bites are a weird territorial thing. i’m sorry if they hurt." he leaned his head against you, running his thumb over one of the marks.

"dragons…" you sighed with a smile. "you’re lucky you’re so cute." you pet his hair, and he leaned into your touch.

he moved his chin so it was on your collarbone, looking up at you with softened eyes. there were almost stars of reverence in them when he gazed at you. "i love you."

"wait, wha—" you began, but he swallowed the rest of your words when his lips were upon yours. he pressed himself up against you, his hands gently holding the sides of your face. as he kissed you, there was a faint rumbling and vibration coming from his chest—he was purring.

he pulled back again, leaving you a little short of breath and a lot dazed. you’d always thought it’d be you that had to kiss him first, not the other way around. he began to leave another trail of kisses starting from your lips to your jaw, this time leading toward the other side he had already been. your hands fell from their place on him and inched onto his back while his lips were on your neck. one hand slipped into his back window, and he suddenly gasped. his back arched into you, almost knocking you over. he panicked, and his tail constricted behind you like another set of arms to catch you.

"what was that?" you laughed, trying to re-steady yourself.

"your hand was cold. i don’t know, i guess i have a sensitive back," he huffed. his ears were angled down and a flush was heavy on his face. you couldn’t really articulate what it was about him, but you were suddenly overcome with cuteness aggression. you leaned your weight onto him, sending him backwards onto the futon and—perhaps somewhat out of revenge—hovered yourself over top of his hips. he stared up at you with widened eyes and a held breath, frozen and waiting for your next move.

"you said i need to return your affection, didn’t you?"

he swallowed and nodded the tiniest bit.

"so let me have some fun too, my beloved." you placed a hand on his cheek.

"wait, you heard—i actually said that?" it almost looked like steam would start rising from the top of his head at any point.

"heard it loud and clear." you smiled to yourself, leaning down and managing to get your fingertips into his chest window—only for the door to slam wide open.

"hey, it’s dinner! what’re you two even doi—!" march called, leaning her hand on the doorway. you and dan heng leapt off each other, landing on the opposite sides of his futon. march stared in silence for a long while before lolling her head back. "jeez, finally! anyway, can you two wait until after dinner? pom-pom’s ‘bouta blow a gasket waiting for you two."

"w-we’ll be there in a minute," you said, trying to readjust your collar to try and hide dan heng’s bite marks.

"don’t be long!" march said as she strode back off down the hallway. a couple beats passed and you looked over at dan heng. by some miracle, he’d managed to swap himself back to his human look, but he still looked disheveled as he went to stand back up.

he held a hand out to you and pulled you up, pausing for a moment. he glanced at the bite marks on your shoulder that still peaked out, made some sort of strained sound and then removed his coat. "they don’t need to see that," he said as he strung it around your shoulders, fixing the collar so it hid the marks from sight.

"i’m wearing your coat. march saw us before. if she learns something, it’s guaranteed to be said," you deadpanned. "they’ll know."

instead of giving you a direct response, he took your hand in his and lead you out of the archives, looking at you with what was probably meant to be a neutral expression. his light flush and knitted eyebrows betrayed him though. "can we at least pretend we have dignity?"

"i mean, sure, but it’s not gonna do anything, looking the way we do. now c’mon, don’t wanna keep the conductor waiting." you walked off with him in tow.

he only made a small groan in response again.

#sorry for the random jerma joke at the beginning #it's a moral obligation for me #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae x reader

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forwntrx · 10 months

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girls like girls (like boys do)

(reader x winter / reader x yunjin) smau series

you are the fifth member of aespa. one of the aces. loved by the public, the media, and even other idols. you were confident and assured in everything, except...your sexuality. you were so sure you were straight, just like a pin, until you met yunjin.

huh yunjin. a member of le sserafim. when she slips her number in your cookie at music bank, your whole life is thrown off balance. from that point on, she relentlessly tries to steal your heart, not knowing that winter was the one who set her eyes on it first. kim minjeong has loved you ever since she met you, but she was so sure that you could never see her that way. she lets go of her feelings and chooses to be your best friend instead. that is, until yunjin tries to make you hers. the three of you become locked in a triangle no one can escape. not without getting hurt that is.

- " i wanted her first. "

- " didn’t you ever hear second is the best, first is the worst? "

- " that’s not how that goes. "

STATUS - ongoing! not started yet but updates will come soon. my second smau so give me grace

TAGS - GAY GAY, 'unrequited' love (at first), fluff, pining, angsty a little bit i'm sorry, slow burn, slice of life, friends to enemies to friends to best friends to lovers (winter, most of this happens before but there will be flashbacks), strangers to lovers (yunjin), one bed trope hehe, fake dating, tipsy!yunjin, dorks in love, arguments, found family with aespa, !!! CHOOSE YOUR OWN ENDING !!!, think of it like a decision game where it branches out those two branches being either yunjin or winter

TAGS (PT2) - lesbian!winter, lesbian!yunjin, lesbian!reader, reader is clueless & indecisive, winter is bad with emotions and communication, she's trying her best, yunjin is the biggest flirt to ever exist, eventual winter and yunjin friendship (emphasis on the eventual), yunjin is annoying but in the best way possible, overthinker!yunjin, protective!winter, lots of fun guys

IDOLS FT. - yeonjun (txt), sunghoon (enha), jake (enha), aespa, le sserafim, yuqi (g-idle), tzuyu (twice) jihyo (twice), yeji (itzy), jeongin (skz), chaeryeong (itzy), other idol mentions most likely

CONTENT WARNING - sex jokes, alcohol, suggestive jokes, might have suggestive scenes nothing graphic and is sfw, too many pretty girls, swears, angst (sorry but only a little), very unserious sometimes, live a little, will update more later

TAGLIST - open! free! ready for whoever wants to be on it, just send me an ask

PROFILES ! — y/n's groupies | yunjin's haters | the idol club

I. FIRST ACT

music bank cookie

just me ()i-dle

canon event

room 312

exile

20 questions

oh okay

comfortable

so cute

on mine

is this your love affair?

i hate you

the jealous type

II. SECOND ACT

14. talk?

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sunfyresrider · 1 year

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Love & Ruin 2

Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra) Warnings: cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, incest, SEVERE mental illness, helaemond is canon, failed plots, a disaster wedding, just targ things, too many warnings to count honestly Word count: 10k Note: I am a bad person. Im sorry it took me so long to finish but my life is a cluster fuck of bad and worse and it is a blessing I havent yeeted myself into hell. Pt three is alr in the works unlike this one. PS Helaena's and Aemond's plan did work. I just didn't directly mention what it was...yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (if you're still interested) Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @caffein8me @llearlert @introverbatim @ladybug0095 @yazzzmints @heavenly1927 @rinirinse @aelora-a (srry it didn't let me tag some of you.)

“Be quiet,” Aegon growled into the ear of the whore he chose to warm his bed this morning. The squelching sounds of his thrusts slamming into her cunt echoed throughout the room. She stifled a moan and dug her teeth into the pillow below her head. Her voice did nothing, only reminded him he wasn’t you. Aegon tried to get girls who resembled you but none pleased him the same.

Today was an especially bad day for Aegon and mayhaps he was taking it out on the whore too much. Her cheeks were stained red from his slaps and surely her cervix would be bruised by how hard he was pounding himself into her. He had good reason though; you were returning home.

It took five years, but he almost was able to move forward with his life. You still plagued him in his dreams and there was a constant tugging at his heart everytime your name was brought up. You simply existing reminded him of the only time he was ever happy, and he clung to the memory like a baby clings to their mother's tit.

His family was very determined to keep you away. It worked successfully, he hadn’t heard nor seen from you at all. Every letter, every flight, every potential unsavory way of stalking your whereabouts was immediately dispelled. That was only within the first year, at some point he gave up. Aegon knew you would come back at some point; you were in love with him. But days, weeks, months, and years passed and still he received nothing.

The idea they had turned you against him murdered the last bit of hope he had. It was one of the many things that formed him into the ‘monster’ everyone believed him to be. The first was being born the first son yet being ignored for his elder sister his entire life. The night at Driftmark was the second trauma that seared a mark into his heart and brother's face forever. The third was the forceful marriage to his sister.

Aegon scarcely remembers that day or the night afterwards. He used milk of the poppy to ease his mind to the point he could hardly stand during the vows… he doesn’t know if he actually attended the first dance. He does remember the bedding and it makes his skin crawl.

He was forced to walk into and perform his own rape. He didn’t want it and would never want it. There was no daydream or drug strong enough to make him forget. It was awful in every sense of the word. Aegon cried during it and then he cried after it. No matter how much he scrubbed himself in the bathing chambers he could not free himself of the feeling of disgust. Then there was the overwhelming guilt that came after.

Aegon never touched her again, never really interacted with his own children. Why would he? He was an accomplice in her suffering as much as his own. She didn’t want to marry him either, she didn’t want to bear his children. He could never be a good husband, lover or anything of the sort to Helaena. She deserved it, he thought, to have someone who could care for her. Someone who could love her like a wife… not like a sibling.

But that would never be him and it ate him alive like the disease killing their father. She was too kind, too pure for him or any other man at court. She was stupid, yes, but with a larger heart than any of the women he’s met combined. Yet, he never brought himself to do his duty to stay loyal and cherish her like Alicent told him to. The only good thing he ever did for Hel was leaving her alone, it made her happy to be free of him. In truth, it would make everyone happier if the world was rid of him completely.

Maybe his life wasn’t over yet, maybe there was still a shred of hope for him left in the world. The reason he used to be happy was returning to him. Even if it was to marry another man… He could sort that out easily enough. When Aegon first heard the news, he wasn’t as calm. He

He could take back what was his and become the man everyone wants him to be… Or he’ll drag you down into his depravity with him. It didn’t matter, either option was a severe improvement from the existence he was currently suffering.

“Are you ready to be back?” Jacaerys inquired whilst trying to tame the loose curls on his head. The carriage ride from the doc to the keep had proved to be dreadfully long and boring. Luke was seeping anxiety that made the entire car tense. ‘Aemond, Aemond, Aemond, he’s gonna take my eye! He’s gonna kill me if I go back!’ The chants of a scared kid really did threaten to send you over the edge. ‘Just apologize, Lucerys... He’s not going to do anything while grandsire is alive. Nothing is going to happen, just say sorry before it does.’

Everything you said fell on deaf ears. His fear was expected, he took his uncle's eye and received no punishment. Granted, after hearing both sides it seemed inevitable for someone to get gravely injured. You still genuinely believed or at least convinced yourself a simple apology might just keep Luke alive for a few more years. “No brother, I would rather be at home,” you muttered in a near whisper.

Jace, always the obedient son, was oozing confidence completely unbothered by the situation. He learned that from Daemon, never let them see you falter, especially the Hightower cunts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

Your heart clenched, a sorrowful reminder of your childhood beginning to boil to the surface. A whirlwind of memories threatening to break you.

You learned how truly codependent you were on your uncle. Without him you had become a shell of whatever it was you once were. Your insecurities reigned supreme as you had an insatiable need for approval from everyone. That meant doing everything you were asked and then some to become the greatest version of yourself you could be. You took care of people, especially your brothers whom you felt the full burden for. You were the eldest and you allowed them into a situation that got them hurt and another child maimed.

It wasn’t just your insecurities; your moods would take a turn quicker than before. At the drop of a hat, you could be raging or hysterically crying. Sometimes you didn’t even understand why. You became obsessive over little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. For example: how your dresses were fitted, how your hair was styled, and what you ate and drank. It wasn’t in the front of your mind at the time, but you did things in the way he always preferred.

Without him, deciding on things became hard. You never needed to think before because he did it for you. Not only that but you became a chronic liar. It wasn’t on purpose, sometimes things would just slip out. You were great at denying any problems you had and chalking them up to your blood moon. You denied any relationship with Aegon and defended him more than he deserved. Especially since he so carelessly abandoned you. No letters, no visits, he left you with fucking nothing. You started to convince yourself you never loved him; it was just pity. You had a burning desire to rescue him and mistook it for genuine affections.

Four years ago, almost to this very day the invitation to the prince and princess’s wedding had just reached your doorstep. You learned that day just how much you did love him because when the letter was read you cried so much you vomited. You stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped doing all the things you love and rotted in your bed waiting for the pain to subside… Or for the stranger to take you.

The image of him touching her the same way he did you, the idea of him whispering the same things he did to you, the way she would cry out his name like you did… It made you want to rip your hair out and peel your skin off. She probably had an extremely elegant dress; the throne room was probably filled with music and guests, and they would ride their dragons together to show off their union… You tore all the clothes he liked to shreds and punched a hole in your mirror…

Originally, you never had any disdain for your exceedingly kind and misunderstood aunt but now it was pure untamed hatred. The jealousy was incredible, truly you would be confined to a prison cell if you acted on the things you thought up.

You could kill both of them and end the war before it even started. You prayed she would miscarry the twins, it didn’t happen. You prayed he would get too drunk and die from alcohol poisoning, obviously it didn’t happen. You prayed the entire keep would be set on fire and everyone within it would die burning in flames just as your father did… it did not.

You were never good enough for him. He abandoned you and left you to rot after taking something so important from you. You were a fool, a naive idiot. The fear of being abandoned personified ever more when your mother gave birth to two legitimate children. Everyone was going to abandon you and it was driving you insane. You had mastered the art of pretending, no one was able to tell what was underneath the surface.

Jacaerys was really the only person who noticed the change. He was the only one who saw through your lies and facade. And he was the only one who genuinely helped you overcome the complete insanity you had sunk into. He pulled you out from drowning in a sea of madness and kept you afloat ever since. In turn, you felt a little guilty for your wicked thoughts and desires, but you were atoning for them by good will and actions.

Still, sometimes late at night when you were alone, he would come back. The memories would come flooding in and sleep would evade you. He had burned a scar into your heart that never fully healed and probably never would. According to your mother who said the first heartbreak is always the worst and most memorable. You didn’t want to come back. You didn’t ever want to see Aegon Targaryen again.

“No, it’s because- ” You hit your head on the back of the car, knocking the air out of your lungs. The carriage came to a halt, catapulting Lucerys forward into the other seat. Jacaerys bursted into uncontrollable laughter as he rubbed his forehead from the impact.

It was a great start to a visit, a crash landing. Surely, not foreshadowing the rest of your adventure. As you unpiled from the carriage a welcome party stood there waiting for you. It was unexpected, seeing your grandsire there in decent health, you heard he was much worse.

Then there were the Hightowers, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Your eyes scanned over them one by one, Alicent wore her plastered fake smile as usual, Otto stood too stiffly and only looked at Daemon, Aemond looked ready to murder you all. He was far different from what you remembered, tall, slender, and handsome even with one eye.

Then there was Helaena… Completely disassociated from whatever was happening and mumbling under her breath. You smiled, the rage you felt before when you imagined her was gone. You had actually healed and successfully moved forward. This was good, so great you could even hug her…

Until your eyes moved to her left. The sunken feeling in your chest blossomed into a new monster threatening to devour you. Your smile faded; your heart began erratically pumping blood to all parts of your body. Your knees locked in place trying to keep your balance.

Aegon… Aegon was only ten feet away and yet there seemed to be miles between you. It was a joke, a great joke, he looked more gorgeous than he ever had. His hair was cut to frame his face perfectly, his jaw was more defined, his dark circles brought out the beautiful sea blue that surrounded his pupils.

The smile that adorned his face was larger than any you had seen him wear prior. His eyes twinkled with childlike glee. The corset you wore became suffocatingly tight and the heat in King’s Landing began to make your head spin. Your breathing was rapid, a million emotions coursing their way through your head.

Aegon took a step down the stairs, your body wanted to flee but you were frozen in time. Another step, all the air in your body left you. A third step made all the bile in your stomach rise to your throat. His feet touched the ground, and he strode towards you, the world started to spin, your mind racing with the worst possible outcomes.

You blinked, for a mere second. You reminded yourself it had been five years; he had no hold on you anymore. He was a monster, a terrible man and a worse son. Aegon was not going to get under your skin, you were not going to falter in front of him. You were better now, you moved on, you were mentally healthy…

You opened your eyes, inhaling a deep breath. He was one pace in front of you, “Niece.”

Disappointment, Aegon was riddled with it every day and today was no expectation. He was so excited his soul wanted to jump out of its skin. But no, the second he approached you passed out and all the sudden he was the villain. What could he have possibly done a foot away to make you faint?

Unless you were too excited to see him, your heartbeat too fast and you fainted. It would make the most sense, reuniting with the person you truly love would send anyone over the edge. It almost made him faint when he first laid eyes upon you.

Gods you were so much more beautiful than he could have imagined. You had grown into a gorgeous woman, easily the prettiest one at court. Your eyes sparkled like diamonds, your hair flowed perfectly down your face, and your cheeks still flushed bright pink when you saw him.

Your dress hugged your figure in all the right places and the things he imagined laid beneath made him insatiably horny. Control, he had to remind himself it’d been years and he needed that. It was hard considering the two days you’d been here he had only seen one glimpse. One quick glimpse in the courtyard before you were stolen away again.

Your chambers were only a few hallways away and he could see you anytime he wanted. And yet, Aegon had to plot when to corner you. There was not only a hoard of guards following you around every step you took but Jacaerys clung to your skirts like a lost orphan.

So, he waited and waited… and fucking waited until he was practically ripping the hair from his skull. The lack of your presence was okay on the first day, the second it was tolerable but by the third day it became suspicious. Impatient and spoiled, his mother’s words rang true more and more each day.

It was increasingly clear that it wasn’t just them keeping you from him, but you were putting extra care into avoiding him. What did he do wrong? The stalking? The letters? The gifts that were never opened. It was all obvious professions of love… Why would you be uncomfortable with that?

Aegon was nursing another goblet of wine as he sunk to the floor. His face felt wet as if he were crying… Was he crying? His body to the point of numbness he could not tell any longer. Sadly, it seemed the wine was not working to cure the ever-disheartening thoughts in his mind.

You were going to get married and forget all about him. They hadn’t given him a single opportunity to attempt to carve his way back into your heart and most likely weren’t going to. What was the reason for living at this point? The one thing he yearned to touch was so close yet so far.

He scoffed at himself. Aegon was no tragic poet, but he was beginning to sound like one. It was the alcohol, a new type probably causing his episode. He went to grasp the corner of the table to stand up, but his legs could no longer withstand his weight. The contents on the table along with his own body fell to the floor.

Not one of his proudest moments to date.

“You’re pathetic,” an irritating voice laced with superiority drew him out of his head. “Brother, have you come to visit your- I mean my children? They aren’t here.” Aemond clenched his jaw once, twice until he let out a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Aegon, there was no winning against someone fueled by pure delusions.

He would never come to see his- Aegon’s children in his room. They would be with their sweet mother far away from the monstrosity they called dad. “We’re all being forced to attend her wedding tourney.”

“When?” Aegon’s eyes lit up and the sunken expression finally lifted. “At dawn,” Aemond took a step back before the smell of wine, sweat and uncleanliness of three days seeped into his nose. “For the love of the seven take a bath!”

Hope, there was still hope left in the world! All of the sudden he had awakened, the whimpering pathetic mess he was a few moments ago was long forgotten. The gears in his brain began turning…

As Aemond strode out of Aegon’s chambers a new plan formed into the mind of the monster himself… “Little brother,” he sang with a cruelty only Aegon could possess. “Will our dear uncle Gwayne be participating?”

Aemond did not loathe his brother as much as everyone believed he did. Yes, he was jealous Aegon the wastrel was first born, and he was not. Yes, he was jealous Helaena was forced to marry the pig instead of him. No, he did not blame his brother for any of this. Solidarity was exceedingly important in times like these, future succession wars and all.

What he learned was, Aegon hated being married to Helaena as much as she did. Aegon didn’t want to be king and would gladly give it to Aemond if the time came. Lastly, as sad as Aegon could be he was fiercely loyal to his family. If it came down to it Aemond knew his brother would die for them… or take an eye instead.

“Has he stopped wallowing in his sorrow?” Even when she insulted people Helaena’s voice sounded like angels in his ear. “No, though he has come up with another borderline war crime plan.” She let out a deep sigh as she fiddled with the needle she used to sew. “Should I ask?”

“He’s urging Gwayne to kill the Fiance before they have a chance to wed.” Helaena stifled a laugh; she should be offended he would dishonor her or even vengeful since her husband dare tried to intervene on another woman’s affairs. Instead, she bit her lip from smiling, “I should be glad she is not as deranged as him or I may not be here today.”

Aemond rose from his seat and sat down next to her. His long fingers gently caressed the side of her face, pushing back the strands that obscured his view of her violet eyes. “I would kill her before she could ever lift a finger.”

Helaena gently tugged Aemond’s hands away from her face, cupping them in her lap. “Aems you are far too serious. She’s still as sweet as a rose I hear…”

There was a sudden silence between them, not uncomfortable in the slightest but eerily still, nonetheless. If Helaena was being honest with herself, she felt terribly for you. She couldn’t imagine what pain he had caused or what exactly he had done to cause you to faint at the mere sight of him.

She could imagine, Helaena simply wished not to burden herself with those thoughts. You were her savior in a weird sense of the word. Because of your existence her brother did not attempt to bed her or force heirs upon her, he did not touch her, he did not bother her unless requested of him. You kept his mind preoccupied, so she wasn’t completely trapped in a horrid marriage such as her mothers. Aegon was a good brother and only a brother… Sometimes she worried what would happen if you ceased to exist.

Still, she was trapped in a marriage. Aemond and Helaena had two vastly different reasons for wanting you around. Helaena wanted to see Aegon content, happy even if they were lucky. And if things happened the way it did in her dreams… Their marriage would be annulled and you two could wed and she could continue to do as she pleased with the father of her children. A fairytale but she was known for being the dreamer.

Aemond simply wanted his brother to get off his fucking ass and do something with his life. He wanted him to stop whoring, to stop pushing away duties, and to start taking matters seriously. The only way he was going to do that was if his favorite toy was promptly returned to him. You also kept Aegon far away from his beloved Helaena, that was merely a bonus.

If he had to choose, obviously he would have not chosen his brother to become obsessed with one of the bastards, it couldn’t be helped anymore. The seeds of whatever drug Aegon made you take to enjoy him had already been planted. The spell you used to seduce him had already begun working.

At the very least you defended them… somewhat. It was enough to make him wish you were dead even less. He had to remind himself, though you were a bastard and related to his sworn enemy, you were also just a woman. As his mother once said, ‘all women are created in the image of the mother and to be spoken of with reverence… And to be treated as such!’

Aemond let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “We’re going to find a convoluted way to help him, aren’t we?” Helaena hummed to herself for a moment, was there any way they could really help you? “Do you believe she is distant because she believes he abandoned her?”

They gazed at each other for a moment, a silent agreement. You were easy to read, at least to the dreamer herself… “Yes Aems, I think we are.”

The dress you were forced into was unbearably tight, the summer sun had seeped through the red fabric and your blood felt as if it was boiling. The royal stand was too crowded, too many unwelcome faces and bodies suffocating you. The noise of horses and knights preparing to show off for your favor made your ears ache. Unbearable, that was the best way you could describe your current predicament.

The fainting spell was enough to have your mother confine you to chambers. She knew, your brothers knew, the Hightowers knew, everyone in the entire keep could see through you both. At every single turn you were specifically swayed far away from your uncle. Absolutely no contact, especially since you were to be married.

That’s what the entire day was for, to celebrate you being sold off to a son of Dorne. If the heat in King’s Landing doesn’t kill you first, then surely the sun there will do the job. You hoped your death would come sooner rather than late.

If the day could not go any worse the sound of someone taking a seat next to you caused you to flinch. You could smell him, practically taste the wine emitting off of him. Then there was the seat to your left, the scent of flowers filled your nose. Your eyes stayed glued to your hands. You didn’t dare move or breathe…

A gentle hand that was as soft as a feather pillow touched yours. “Don’t be nervous.” Helaena, of all the people in the world you did not expect her to say such. Especially now, since you were separating husband and wife or did, they purposely do this to torment you further? “If I’m sitting in your place I can move, princess.”

You kept your head turned to her, trying your hardest to ignore the one sitting far too close to your right. Where was your mother? Your brothers? Where was your family to rescue you? “Nonsense! I purposely asked Jacaerys to let me sit next to you.” To the right, you could feel two violet eyes burning holes into the back of your skull.

“How lovely,” you muttered out trying to find your family from the corner of your eyes. How in the seven hells was he next to you? You turned your body towards the crowd, an invisible shield in your mind blocking you from turning the other way.

Behind you, your entire family was in the row above staring daggers into Aegon. Of course, he stole Lucerys seat before he had a chance to protest. The sound of trumpets blaring, and the weakened voice of your grandsire distracted you, momentarily from the hell you were living in.

A warm and soft hand was placed over your own. Dragging your nails from tarnishing the skin around them. “Afraid your husband to be is going to lose?” It felt as though a bolt of lightning shot down your back. You bit your lip, no you wanted him to lose and potentially be stabbed in a duel. You actually want to be stabbed too right now.

Milk of the poppy was your savior. That’s what had been prescribed to keep you grounded. It’s why you’re not currently on the floor unconscious. It's why you decided to engage in conversation instead of keeping your mouth shut. It's why you let his hands caress your own and bask in the warmth they provided. It wasn’t you; it was the medication.

“Why aren’t you participating in the tourney?” You could feel a smile curve onto his face, though you swore not to look. “Why would I? Do you want me to compete for your favor?” You turned to look at him, shocked by the accusation you would want him of all people competing for you. That was a fantasy of children, a dead one at that.

A mistake was made when you glanced at him. Gods, he was beautiful in the most pathetic way possible. The dark circles, the smug smile, the unruly hair, the piercing eyes and the jaw with just a tad of baby fat encompassing it. You forgot his lady wife sitting next to you, you forgot your family watching you. For a moment, it was just you looking at the pretty monster who ruined you. A shimmer of hope, a memory of childhood championship bubbled to the surface.

“No Aegon, I think you would lose,” you jested. His eyes sparkled; his subtle grin turned into a wide blinding smile. “I think I already have your favor.” Your mouth parted to speak, cheeks brimming red from the implication.

Down below the sounds of cracking shields and screams of pain stifled by armor were becoming the loudest noise. A Blackwood had just begun a duel with a Bracken and… his entrails were staining the tan colored sand a dark shade of crimson. You felt bile rising up in your throat as you unconsciously tightened your drip on Aegon’s hand. An act that didn’t go unnoticed and was quickly returned.

“Not a fan of bloodshed?” His voice sounded softer, almost kind versus his usual unserious tone. He was staring at the side of your face and his eyes shone with mild concern combined with amusement. Aegon was always one for violence, not you. By no means were you against it, seeing the insides of someone’s stomach simply didn’t suit your fancy.

“And the day grows ugly…” Helaena let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the scene below. Her voice made you quickly realize how disrespectful you were being towards their marriage. In a second, your hand was ripped out of his grasp and placed firmly on your lap. Avoid, you avoided both of their looks and your gaze moved strictly forward.

You could have sworn you saw a flash of Aemond’s eyepatch and his fingers patting at her knee. Oddly enough, you were very suspicious of brother and sister relationships considering the family you were born into. Thank heavens you were amongst the normal ones… almost.

“You’re not wrong, Hel. You’re not wrong.” Aegon’s voice had lost all its original sympathetic tone as his lips formed into a pout like a spoiled brat. “Princess! Your favor would surely help me win this tournament if you could be so kind.”

The sound of your fiancés voice made you want to sink into the abyss of your mind and let it swallow you. Maybe even feed yourself to Vhagar much like your late aunt Laena did. Aegon looked worse, enraged and annoyed to the utmost level.

His body moved slowly towards your fiancée, and you swore if looks could kill he would be dead. You didn’t flinch or falter this time. You no longer frowned at the sight of the man you were supposed to marry. In fact, you were bubbling with joy.

The second Martell son held a huge smile while he waited for you to place your favor on his lance. You did your best to make a spectacle out of it, wishing him luck as loudly as you could. Your mother was smiling proudly, surely congratulating herself on a fine match she had made.

She didn’t understand, you weren’t happy because of him. You were happy to see Aegon leaking envy from his pores with the most miserable look on his face. Now he was feeling exactly what you did and it felt fucking fantastic. You gracefully sat back in place with a smile that went ear to ear.

“Would you like to place a bet on who will win, uncle?” He shifted in place, his eyes following the black mare your fiancée rode. “I don’t intend on betting coins, niece.” An awfully smug look creeped onto his face. “What are we betting?”

Aegon leaned into you, so his mouth nearly brushed over your ear. His breath was heavy and laced with confidence. His whispers sent a shiver up your spine that glued you in place. “If Gwayne Hightowers knocks your beloved husband off his horse I get to claim you in front of everyone.”

“…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the world paused. Heat rose from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head, radiating in all directions. The drugs were no longer keeping your very unstable emotions at bay. Your cheeks were not just flushed by the idea but from the crushing reminder he was not yours to claim. He was stolen from you and didn’t mind until you showed back up. No letters, no secret rendezvous, no gifts on name days or holidays… To Aegon it was always just a game.

A game he was still fucking playing at your own expense. Could he not see he had done enough? He had ruined what sliver of self-respect you had years ago? What else was there for him to take besides your life. Your original despair turned into something hateful, “My husband will win and when he does you have to stay away from me for as long as I’m here.”

His mouth hung agape as he was trying to debate this completely unfair bet. Aegon was going to make a jest, defend himself or anything really before the trumpets blared loud enough for the deaf to hear. “Hmph,” you turned in your seat, stone faced, chin held high, completely ignoring his presence to watch the knights begin to mount their horses.

Ser Gwayne Hightower was wearing a suit of armor and a green cape. Gwayne’s helm was in the shape of a lantern… It looked completely ridiculous. His horse wasn’t stupid, it was a powerful white charger, and his lance appeared to be held firmly in his grip. From all the stories you’ve heard, he was an amazing knight. He’d won many tourneys in the past and nearly knocked down Daemon once.

Your fiancée was on the other side, and he certainly did stand out… The golden decor on his armor was perhaps a bit much and he refused to wear a helm. His horse was beautiful albeit not as powerful as the charger. It wasn’t looking very good.

You were too busy praying to the seven for mercy when the two horses took off. In a flash their lances connected, and poor Quentyn was nearly thrown off. You heard a snicker from the corner, and you whipped your head to stare at the smirk plastered all over Aegon’s face. “Heh look at that!” No fucking way, no way in the names of any god would he get to do anything with you. “Fuck you, uncle,” the venom laced words seeped out of your mouth before you could contain them. Your perfect facade was beginning to break so quickly.

“That can be arranged.” You gritted your teeth and your nostrils flared. Seeing him win in anyway made you want to snatch a sword and shove it right between his fucking…

“We have a winner!”

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and you forgot whatever your last thought was. You stood up from your seat to gaze at the ground and surely enough…

“Quentyn Martell has won the favor of the Princess!”

Heh heh heh…. You turned to look at him with a smirk only the divine could wear, “I win.”

He miss stepped, Aegon had completely misread the situation at hand. Her mind had been completely poisoned by those… those cunts! And Gwayne completely fumbled the fucking tourney. This added more layers to the issues already at hand. Firstly, her husband needed to go and fast. Secondly, he had to untaint her mind. Thirdly, how the hell was he going to keep her here with him? Aegon only had a single day and night to do it…

CRASH

Another empty goblet of wine was thrown into the wall. The small shards covered the floor like winter snow tainted by red droplets of wine. The prince was raging and drinking… ceaselessly. “For the love of the seven will you sit down!” Aemond watched unamused, on the edge of storming out himself at this display. It was getting annoying how easily irritated his brother was becoming. Aegon stomped across, “We have to kill him… Preferably sooner rather than late.”

“We could tell the truth about her virtue and have a Septon annul the marriage… avoid making any unnecessary enemies.” Aegon pivoted to stare at Aemond, face void of any signs of agreement. “Yes, and besmirch her reputation in the process… Ha! That will surely make her crawl into my bed.”

Aemond really fucking hated sarcasm above all forms of conversation. “Oh, great manipulative tactician, what exactly were you thinking?” His steps paused as he toyed with the knife he kept on belt. He wasn’t a genius nor was he overly capable of manipulation like his grandfather…

“It can only work if she is obsessed with me again.” The younger brother let out a groan, rubbing his face with both his hands. “What exactly are you planning to do?”

A wicked smirk curled its way onto his lips. His pupils momentarily turned dark, “Not I, dear brother, what are you going to do.” Aemond lowered his hands, so his eye picked through, raising an eyebrow.

—

“This won’t do,” Rhaenyra declared as she tossed another necklace laced with jewels onto the floor of your chambers. “Mother!” you gaped as the expensive piece fell to the floor. She pursed her lips together, fingers grazing the delicate jewelry laid before you. “My first born, my only daughter is getting married… Tacky crystals won’t do.” You sunk deeper into your chair, twirling your wet hair in between your fingers.

Rhaenyra closely examined a few more pieces, none of which suited her exquisite taste. She turned to you, her eyebrows creasing together. “You look more pale than usual.” You looked up at her and her eyes were laced with concern. One thing about your mother is that you could never lie to her. She knew you more than you knew yourself. The slightest bit of discomfort she could snuff out and exile it from your mind.

“I haven’t been sleeping well as of late.” Her gentle hands went to comb through your hair. “If you changed your mind and don’t wish to get married, I could always have Daemon, take care of it.” You choked up a laugh, “threatening murder on my wedding day? How very festive.”

A small smile made her lips curve upwards. She let out a breath, plucking a necklace off the counter and holding it to your neck. “Is it him?” The dragon necklace made of diamonds laced with gold details seemed to taunt you. “No, he hasn’t bothered me at all.” A bold-faced lie that your mother could see through instantaneously. Rhaenyra wrapped the necklace around your throat and clasped it in the back. “Really? He seemed to bother you at the tourney.”

The necklace seemed to be choking you though it wasn’t tight at all. It would have been something you wore if you were getting married to him instead. A golden dragon paying homage to Sunfyre… “Just playful banter. Honestly it went far better than expected.”

She looked as if she was about to contest what you said but three knocks at the door caught both your attention. It slowly creaked open revealing a maid no older than fifteen. She stood meekly in the entrance shifting eyes between your mother and yourself.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you; the king requested your presence.” Your mother raised her brow, questioning the situation at hand. You gave a nearly unnoticeable nod, reassuring her everything was all right. She clapped her hands together, “You’re not disturbing anyone! My love I’ll return shortly.”

Rhaenyra strided out the door with the confidence only a queen could possess. You envied the way she carried herself no matter the situation. You slumped back down into your chair staring at yourself in the grandiose mirror. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having Daemon rid you of your husband… If anything, he would probably take pride in having something to hold over your head.

But a war was brewing, it was an inevitable fact that no one could deny and soon it would be impossible to ignore. You needed the dornish alliance, and you were the perfect bargaining chip… Curse the seven for making you a woman.

“You look like you’re in agony. Already getting the wedding blues?” It’s no use asking how he snuck in, it’s no use asking why he was here, and it’s absolutely no fucking use to start panicking. “Uncle, I thought we had an agreement.” His steps were light, almost frolicking to stand behind your seat in front of the vanity. Aegon’s face was the ideal image of serenity, you couldn’t say the same for yourself.

“It’s your wedding day! Surely, I can offer my congratulations on this joyous day.” There wasn’t an honest way you could describe the pain within your chest. It felt as if a blade had carved a hole within your heart that refused to heal. A dark abyss threatening to swallow you whole. He wasn’t meant to be happy; you were supposed to be cheery. Aegon was meant to pin after you until he died… Not move on and get married, have children, and celebrate your own wedding.

You didn’t feel the tears quietly falling from your eyes or the way your lip was quivering. His hand moved to graze your shoulder, but you jumped out of your seat, snapping your head back to face him. “Don’t touch me!” He put his hands up in mock surrender, “W-woah…”

“Did you come here to torment me some more? Do you revel watching me be so miserable?” He stumbled back, muttering some incoherent apology that fell on deaf ears. “You abandoned me! You left me like a dog and went to go playhouse with your perfect fucking family, perfect fucking wife and two perfect children.”

One of the many things you were shouting must have triggered something within him. Aegon grabbed your shoulders with such force you almost buckled under their grip. He shook you like a child would shake their pet if it stopped listening. “Perfect? Have you become fucking delusional? What part of a forced marriage to your sister sounds perfect to you?!”

“Let me go! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You shouted in between sobs. “No! You’re telling me you’ve been ignoring me for years because you’re fucking jealous?” You swatted at his face, attempting to grab him by his hair to pull him down. Poor idea, Aegon always thought violence was exciting. Somewhere amidst the fight you ended up wrestling on the ground shouting curses at one another.

“I hate you! I would never be jealous of you!” Aegon shiftly straddled you and began fighting to grab your wrists again. To make it all the more unbearable the bastard was smiling. “Bullshit! It’s seeping off of you.” You bit down on his hand that came just a little too close to your mouth. He growled, slamming on wrists behind your head. “Seven hells will you calm down and listen!”

You writhed underneath him, albeit with less screams of curses. This rather pathetic display went on for only another minute before he forced his lips onto yours. It was rough, mainly teeth clashing together and lips fighting against one another. Part of you wished it could continue, to relive your past one more time before you were sold off.

The other part of you bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Aegon relented, a droplet of blood staining his swollen bottom lip. Whatever spell he had put on you had worked; you were quiet and unusually still. “Look at me.” You turned your head to face the wall, refusing to be trapped by those damned eyes. “Look at me!” Begrudgingly, after being shouted at, you looked at him. “My marriage is not happy. I swear on my own life I only bedded her once. I was so drunk I can’t even remember if it truly happened…”

“More lies… You have two children.” He scoffed, looking around the room as if asking the seven for patience. “Oh, for the love of- Do you really think those are mine? Just look at them!” Aegon appeared unbelievably desperate for you to believe him. His eyes frantically searching yours for any comfort…

The twins did appear more similar to one brother than the other… Jaehaera herself was a spitting image of Helaena only. “I don’t believe you…” His face dropped as if you had taken an arrow to his heart. “But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’m getting married tonight.” A foolish course of action on your part because you gave him hope. A dangerous thing if given to the wrong people and he was by far the wrong person.

He pressed his mouth against you once more, this time his soft lips caressed your own gently. The taste of wine and iron coated your tastebuds, and it wasn’t at all displeasing. It was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. He pulled his right hand away from your wrist, almost giving you time to escape. But the second your arm moved he grabbed it with his left. A gentle, almost comfortable, kiss was turning into a desperate one.

Aegon’s tongue slid into your mouth doing circles with your own. Your breaths quickened as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and then kissing it before letting go again. His hands slid down to your thighs, cupping them firmly in his warm palms and massaging their shape. You shivered when his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, it had been so long since anyone had touched you.

The wedding you were supposed to be attending today became a distant memory as he kissed you senseless. His lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his nose grazed yours again you found yourself trembling with need.

“You have missed me,” he whispered breathlessly. You wanted to say no, that your body was betraying you but when his fingers grazed your unclothed cunt all you could mutter was “ah, ah, ah~”

His tongue flicked out and traced up the side of your neck, then back down. He slipped his tongue inside of your ear, and then swallowed down all of your words. His fingers began gently teasing at your clit, sliding between your wet folds, rubbing it painstakingly slow. You whimpered into his mouth, begging him to do more.

Aegon wasn’t supposed to give it all to you so easily but… Forcing in a few fingers was far from all he could do. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of your slick folds, making sure to tease your clit each time. His eye had a wicked gleam to them watching you come undone underneath him, “you think you’ll be happy with another man? You think he’ll be able to please you like I do?”

You opened your mouth but all that came out was a muffled cry. “No one knows your body like I do. No one can ever please you like I do.” His fingers moved swifter curling up to hit the sweet spot inside of you. Your legs buckled around him as you began to moan ceaselessly. A wicked smile took over his features, “be honest with yourself everytime you try to fuck another man you’ll be imagining me, my lips, my tongue, my fingers and my cock inside of you.”

Your arms fell limply by your sides, the world spinning in circles as a delicious haze descended upon you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his fingers as he continued to push them deeper inside of you. “I’ve already ruined you, what other man could want you? Who do you belong to? Say it!”

“Y-You! Aegon! I belong to you.” You cried out in pleasure, your voice echoing through the room. He pressed his lips against you once more, swallowing all the noises you made as your cunt tightened around his thick fingers. “That’s a good little girl,” He purred as your orgasm washed over you.

“Aegon…” You breathed, your head lolling to the side as he pulled his fingers out of your quivering pussy. He sat up, face returning to its usual expression of complete nonchalant. “I’ll give you time to get all dressed up, recite vows you do not mean with a stranger, dance until your heart's content and then I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.”

He leaped off of you swiftly, lazily fixing his hair and wiping the blood from his mouth. You propped yourself up on your elbows, “What in the seven hells?” Aegon smiled at you, but it wasn’t one of genuine joy. It was sick with cruel eyes behind it. “You’ll see.”

The seeds of doubt had been planted into your mind and had already begun to sprout. The once joyous occasion was quickly turning into a fucking nightmare. To be Frank, you really wish you were dead instead of standing up here reciting vows you did not mean. It was awkward, unbelievably awkward. For five years your beloved had been pining for you and you were too blind to see it.

Or it was all a sick joke being played on you. Which one was worse you did not know. Your entire family stood there, smiling, your mother nearly on the verge of tears seeing her only daughter preparing to start a family of her own… Gods, is this how Aegon felt all these years knowing he was the disappointment? You had been completely soiled and yet here you stand with your new husband… Aegon’s scent and markings weren’t even fully off of you!

The entire ceremony was eerily calm. No random bursts of violence or protests to your union. Which means your uncle may or may not intend to murder and or maim this man tonight. Any sound of mind woman would be sick at the thought and run for aid… Obviously you were not at all that type of girl. Currently you were jumping out of your skin waiting for him to finally arrive and rescue you.

The only issue was, he never did show up. Not for the first kiss, not for the first dance, not for the speech his father was barely able to make or the feast itself… Did he intend to ignore you until it was all over?

____________________________________

Aegon was unbelievably late to the wedding celebration. It was on purpose; he had a few loose strings he needed to tie before he arrived. For once he was sober and painstakingly polite as he walked in. It is fair to mention he had the servants meticulously fix his normal disheveled appearance so he could make an impression on you.

When Aegon first entered the great hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a grand table adorned in the finest gold sits on a raised dais. The royal table is flanked on either side by rich red tapestries, ornately embroidered with the sigils of the houses respectively. If only he could burn all of the dornish banners with Sunfyre.

As he moved throughout the room, Aegon was struck by the attention to detail. Everywhere you looked, you saw the sign of the union between two powerful houses, a testament to the joyous occasion for which this room has been decked out. It was fucking disgusting and Aegon wanted to puke on it.

The throne room was filled to the brim with Lords and Ladies alike from all across the realm. In the center, just in front of the throne sat the royal table. On the opposing sides of the room were the packed tables for the highly esteemed guests. The middle of the room was cleared for dancing and eventually the marriage itself…

He wished he could throw himself into the spikes of the throne. Instead, he had to slither his way through the crowds to make way to the table. Aegon was tired of waiting, He was tired of hearing your family gawk at the well-made match and he was especially tired of doing nothing. Your husband would be dealt with in due time, but he hadn’t the patience to pretend not to be itching to speak to you, to touch you, anything but sit here and fucking watch.

He finally pulled himself up onto the podium and marched his way in front of you. You seemed stunned, miserable, in awe of his beauty. All of which were better than you being happy to be wed. "I'm insulted you have yet to ask me to dance, uncle." His lips twisted into his usual overly confident smile. “didn’t want to disturb the happy couple so soon.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it. There were stares from certain people of course, those who knew what happened at Driftmark and potentially before. You didn’t really care anymore.

For a moment, he was the perfect gentleman. Placing his hands in only the proper places and spinning you around the floor with ease. If you were a normal family, this would be a sweet interaction between relatives… But you were twisted and Targaryens. “You know, I’m putting more effort into this dance than my own wedding.” You scoffed, “Oh joy, surely no one will find this suspicious at all.”

Aegon’s face mirrored disgust as he glanced around you. “Is something the matter?” He rolled his eyes, "Your dearly beloved is gawking." You stood on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder. Surely enough, the pretty dornish prince was smiling ear to ear watching you…"Do something about it."

The mischievous look Aegon always wore as a child made its reappearance. It was quick, his hands grasping onto your face and pulling you so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You would let me dishonor you in front of all these people, bad princess.” You whined trying to lean up into his face, but he pulled back, “tsk tsk, can’t let your husband see you so needy for my affection now, can we?”

You wished he would stop referring to him as your husband. You wished he would stop reminding you of what waited for you after the night ended. “Sister… Prince Aegon.” Jacaerys appeared from behind like a thief in the night. Immediately souring any positive mood Aegon could have been in. He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Nephew.” He gritted through his teeth with a subtle bow.

“Princess, would you dance with me?” You glanced between the two and felt the humiliation of the situation beginning to seep in. Your mother was on the high podium with a faux smile and a death grip on her fork observing you… “Of course! Let’s go little brother.”

The dance was alright… But you couldn’t get your mind off of the Lannister girl who was practically drooling at the sight of Aegon. He had slept with her before you knew this much. A secret part of you kept track of the whores he buried his cock inside, at least the rich ones. What happened next was honestly a blur, you couldn’t remember a thing. Except that you may or may not have called her a whore and threatened her life if she dared to touch him… She scurried away with her hands on her and tears in her eyes.

You weren’t jealous at all, only defending Helaena’s honor.

____________________________________

“Prince Aegon, pleasure to finally meet you,” If the night couldn't get any better the man of the hour had just willingly approached the man plotting against him… “Prince Quentyn, nice of you to believe this is a pleasure.” He smirked, “Your wife looks very beautiful.” Aegon patted his shoulders, “as does yours.”

Quentyn winced, a rather noticeable scowl growing on his face. “She’ll never be yours, my prince.”

“You’ll see later tonight whose name she calls out while your cock is inside her.” He smiled a crooked grin. Quentyn’s fists balled up next to his sides, Aegon wasn’t one to directly fight, he was more behind the scenes type of criminal. There was no denying that he was strong, strong enough to crack this man’s skull. But that wasn’t part of the plan… His feet moved fast, swiftly connecting his fist to Aegon’s jaw.

The crowd erupted behind them, lords and ladies screaming trying to escape the violence. Suddenly, Aegon stopped trying to attack and let the dornish cunt take charge. He tackled him to the ground and landed hit after hit… Was this really worth it, he thought to himself as blood started to trickle down his face. “You- fucking- wastrel-” Aegon was laughing hysterically whilst getting his face beat in… All according to plan, he told himself.

“Get off of him!” You screeched in horror pulling at the man assaulting your lover. It wasn’t meant to take a turn like it did. Quentyn, not recognizing you, turned and landed a hit square to your cheek knocking you on your ass. “Protect the princess!” Some guard shouted from behind whilst dogpiling onto your husband. He stared in horror at what he had done, you were gripping your cheek mortified, and Aegon was laying there covered in blood laughing his ass off like a psychopath.

The maester was applying ice to your cheekbone as you nervously picked at the seams on your dress. “We’ll have the marriage annulled by tomorrow.” Rhaenyra paced inside the room. “On what grounds? Aegon was obviously egging him on,” Jacaerys groaned from the corner. “I could kill him and fix this entirely,” Daemon muttered watching his wife rage on.

The rest of the argument was drowned out, the only noise you could hear was the sound of Aegon’s jaw cracking. You didn’t feel despair that the wedding was ruined, you didn’t feel depressed that your husband had hit you… No, you felt completely fucking enraged.

Seeing Aegon harmed had awoken something in you. It was hateful and could not be quelled by a simple apology. He fucking beat him to a pulp in the midst of your wedding then had the audacity to lay a hand on you… It may or may not have awoken something because seeing Aegon laughing whilst covered in his own blood made your core heat up.

“Could I be given some milk of the poppy for the pain, mother?” Rhaenyra looked at you with the most sorrowful expression she could muster, “oh my sweet girl.” She cupped your cheeks in her hands and rubbed at the bruise that was forming. “Go fetch some tea for my daughter, Maester… Now!”

____________________________________

You were returning to your chambers in a rather dumbed down state. The medicine made your mind hazy, and your body feel light as a feather. It was like wine but far better with less of a hangover. The corridors were dark, all the excitement from tonight was far over. You hummed to yourself lazily, dreading the return to where your husband lay. Until you felt a hand wrap around your mouth and yank you into a hole in the wall you never knew was there.

You tried to scream but were quickly shushed by a voice that could only belong to one man. “Aegon? What are you doing?” He smiled at you, rubbing the bruise on your cheek. “Will you go out for a walk with me?” You raised your eyebrow in distrust, “To where?” Aegon grinned, almost too enthusiastically to trust, “the dragonpit.”

The most unexpected event of tonight wasn’t the wedding brawl nor the injury that befall you. It was the fact you were riding on Sunfyre again, with Aegon holding onto your waist as you soared through the stars. It was a wedding gift, he claimed. As far as you knew Aegon never let anyone touch his dragon let alone ride with him, except you.

It was indescribable, the feeling of the wind rushing past your cheeks. The view of the city and the moon shining above you reflecting off his scales. You were giggling uncontrollably the entire flight listening to Aegon tell jests you hadn’t heard in years. Whatever injury he had gained was long forgotten the second you took off. Whatever drama or chaos in the keep didn’t exist outside. In the sky, you both were completely free.

You couldn’t say how long you spent outside. Mayhaps it was an hour or two before Sunfyre descended onto a nearby beach surrounded by the most beautiful rock formations you had seen. “Is this your version of bridenapping me?” You teased while he helped you climb down the saddle. “It’s only kidnapping if you fight back.”

He grasped your hand leading you across the sandy beach, showcasing the stars he supposedly, desperately wanted to show you. “I have an actual gift for you too.” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is it a ride home on Sunfyre?” Aegon laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time since you’ve returned. He dug in his pocket searching for something… “I had it made years ago but never had the chance to properly give it to you.”

In his hand was the most beautiful golden ring in the shape of a dragon. “A ring? A Sunfyre ring?” Aegon grabbed your hand and slipped it on with ease, “I’m not that creative, you know this. it was meant to be something to remember me by when you left.” Tears were prickling your eyes once more. The fool kept the damned ring all these years and never mentioned it. “Aegon… Be honest for once with me please. Do you still love me?”

He paused, searching tirelessly for the right words to say. “I… There hasn’t been a day in five years where I haven’t thought about you at least once. There hasn’t been an hour that something has not reminded me of you. There hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept without seeing you… It isn’t normal, it’s twisted and sick and cruel just like I am. No matter what you do to others, to me, to yourself. No matter if the world ends in a freeze or we are in the midst of a war of the ages… I believe I’ll always feel this… And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until the seven hells take me.”

You sniffled; he always had such a roundabout way of saying things. “I’ll always love you too.” He smiled genuinely, pulling you into a kiss so gentle yet so firm it made you forget all the dangers of the world, the drama, the potential war, your husband, everything was irrelevant except for you two, right now under the stars.

“We still haven’t done the bedding ceremony.” You whispered against his lips. His eyes lit up, “Have you always been so needy for me?” You didn’t have time to protest before he was passionately colliding his lips against yours once more. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer into you, making sure no part of you would ever be apart from him again.

His arms slipped below your waist as he lowered you onto the ground as gently as he could. Your legs fell open instinctively and his hands began to explore your body. It was vastly different from every other time you’ve been together. It was gentle and loving, passionate and pleasurable without the pain.

Your bodies started to move in sync with each other, stripping away the clothes that hid your most intimate parts. His hands held you close to his chest, keeping you warm while you were exposed to the elements. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him passionately with a hunger you had forgotten existed.

He broke the kiss, gasping for air. You opened your eyes to see the moonlight reflected off his face, sometimes Aegon Targaryen looked more God than man. He moved to suckle on your neck as he ran his length against your slit.

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured huskily against your ear. He slowly pushed inside, filling you with his thickness. You gasped from the sudden sensation. He was so deep within you, so far reaching you almost felt like you could reach out and touch the stars.

His kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling, sucking, biting. He took his time thrusting inside of you with slow movements, appreciating every moment your bodies were entertained. He stopped mid-thrust, holding himself deep within you.

“I love you, Princess.” He whispered, his voice so tender and soft. You blushed like a child; it was silly to think his cock being inside you didn’t make you feel as embarrassed as him telling you, his feelings. “Always.” You murmured back. He kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your teeth.

You clung tight to his neck, your nails digging into his skin. He moved faster, his breaths coming in shorter and quicker. You moaned, your thighs trembling from the feeling of fullness. His fingers traced circles on your inner thigh, and then he moved to your clit.

He worked you effortlessly, eliciting soft whimpers and moans and love confessions. The world was a blur of fluorescent colors and smells, nothing mattered but you and Aegon. His climax came swiftly, almost right after your own. You begged for him to cum inside you, to fill you with his seed and he always did as you asked.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy on your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling him relax. “Aegon…” You spoke his name softly, your head resting on his shoulder. “Mhmm?” He said in a daze. “Again?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his neck. He smirked, his cock twitching inside of you.

____________________________________

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bigassmoonchild · 4 months

Text

Happy

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Simon finally comes home, and he meets his two little angels. You’re finally happy, and things seem perfect. A little too perfect.

Content Tags: Comfort, Twins (name reveal), Death, Canonical death, SPOILERS FOR MW3, Family Moments, Good Father Simon, Simon Finally Realizes How to Deal With His Emotions, Mentions of Pumping, More Original Characters (no name mentioned), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, Omega! Reader, No Use of Y/N

A/N: This is the end. Maple Syrup is done, it has been finished. Feel free to keep sending asks about Doc and Simon! I am more than happy to keep answering prompts about their life together and their family <3. It is insane. I am so proud of how far this has come, and I am so happy that you all have enjoyed it. Don’t worry, I have another fic lined up!!

Part 1 | Previous | Headcannons, Masterlist

Price isn’t entirely sure the last time he could smell something like this on Simon. He isn’t entirely sure if he’s ever smelled him like this. Not in the however long he’s known the Lieutenant. There’s words that he should find, something to get his other alpha, his Lieutenant, to feel better, yet there’s nothing. No matter how much he wants to say something, the words are lost to Price.

He knows the feeling coursing through Simon. Price himself missed his middle pups birth, and yet this all feels different.t He isn’t even sure there are words to convey what he wants to say, if he could just transmit the feeling he needs to he would. But he can’t do that, that just isn’t a thing that’s possible. Maybe in the far, far future but right now? All he needs to find are the words to help make his other Alpha hurt just a little less.

The tangy scent that fills the air of the heli almost burns his nose. It’s not something he’s ever smelled before, not on Simon. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley didn’t smell hurt, or sad. Hell, he never even really smelled anguished even when he probably should have. Price knows the pup- the pups- are here, and he knows Simon should be feeling a sense of joy. Excitement, even. But there’s nothing. No joy, no happiness, just fear and a tang of pain.

While Price knows the feeling- he missed his own middle pups birth- he can’t find the words to express to Simon that it’ll all turn out okay. That everything will be figured out, that you won’t just abandon him. Simon isn’t a bad Alpha, he might be rough around the edges but he truly does mean well. Maybe his words were a little harsh, maybe his tone wasn’t always what he wanted to convey, but Simon never meant real harm to those on his side.

The sounds of shrieking, wails and snarls coming from the other end of the phone almost haunted Price. He’d never heard his own Omega, the perfect parent to their pups, scream in such a way. Maybe it was just because it hurt, maybe because you had to push two pups out of you, but maybe it was because it was so unexpected. His omega had gone to a few classes to prepare for it all.

Christ. You’d had two pups, and Simon wasn’t there to help at all. Your own pack, the one you were born in, wasn’t even there to help you with this moment. Price knew that there was very little anyone could do to fix this, but by all the gods who knew of the green Earth he wanted to find a way.

While your relationship with Simon had definitely been through worse, he knew that it was torment. Price had been given the opportunity to slowly court his own omega, make them fall in love with him each time that they were together. He knew what it took to get an omega, at least his own, to fall in love. But neither of you were given that chance. You were just some Doctor that had been assigned to their base, just a Doctor who was sent out by your own leaders and Captains to figure out what was happening.

You were just a Doctor, tossed into a world of hurt all because of Simon. And Simon wasn’t sure if he could forgive himself for any of it. You were alone, to care for two newly born pups, all alone to give birth to them. He’d heard you snarl at one of the doctors who had come in. Just Price’s Omega was allowed in, they were the only person who was allowed near you.

Simon shouldn’t have just ran off to the mission without at least having gone and seen you first. Maybe then, just maybe, he would have had the balls to stay behind and try and fix his mistakes. Maybe then, you wouldn’t have been left alone to birth your children. God, he felt so fucking stupid. He’d missed the birth of his pups.

Maybe, hopefully, you’d forgive him. You had before, so hopefully this wouldn’t be that much different. He had to stop doing this, stop making these situations occur where he hurt you so much and had to hope to whatever god would listen that you would accept him back into your arms. He could see Price, Gaz and Soap glancing at him every now and again. Soaps nose was scrunched up, his eyes slightly narrowed while looking at him.

“You alright, L.T.?” Soap asked in the silent helo. The tension was so strong Simon thought he could cut it in half. His eyes slowly moved from staring out of the window to looking right at him. Soaps eyes didn’t move, matching his stare.

Swallowing thickly, Simon broke eye contact. “Worried, s’all,” he responded, voice slightly hoarse. A hum came from Soap, and he watched him turn to look back away where he’d been prior to it. No one else spoke for the remainder of the flight back, and Simon found himself glancing back out the window he was near and watching the ground pass by quickly.

Sometimes he wondered what other people were up to, how simple their lives might be. How they might be having a nice dinner with their pack, watching as their pups grow up with ease. He felt a pang deep in his chest, and he almost felt his eyes burn for a moment. He craved such normalcy. He wanted to curl up in your nest next to you, hold you close as you slept against him.

Take care of his pups and help you out after the birth. He barely noticed the helo land and was half conscious as he walked into the compound. People were glancing at him, their eyes following him as he walked. Simon barely noticed, though, and he felt as though he had tunnel vision on his walk to your shared room.

From a few halls down, he could smell something. It was sweet, mixed in with your own scent. Milky, almost, and slightly powdery. He swallowed thickly, as just another hall down he could hear shuffling coming from your shared room. Christ, when had his hearing become so sensitive? He heard you humming faintly, some cooing and whining from two other sources.

And he opened the door, sliding the key out of the lock as he walked in. Your eyes found him, widening just a little and the faintest scent of fear coursed through your scent. Two wails suddenly screeched through the room, your eyes darting back to the closet nest and you moved without hesitation. He heard little purrs and coos coming from you, the wails slowly dying down into soft whimpers.

His heart shatters into pieces. He feels a pain he hadn’t thought possible, the thoughts whirling through his head. His pups don’t know him, they hate him and he can’t be here. Simons muscles are tensed, ready to make a run for it. He can almost feel tears pooling in his eyes, his throat closing up as a small whine comes from deep within him.

There’s nothing he can do. Absolutely nothing. He wasn’t here when they came into this Earth, he wouldn’t be here when they left. And he hated himself so deeply. But the purrs that you gave, little coos bringing him from his thoughts. His head almost cleared, listening to you whisper soothing words to the little things. God, they’d be tiny. They had to only be a few days or weeks old at this point, but everything felt like it had ground to a halt when he’d heard you were in labor.

And he shouldn’t he absolutely should leave until he can talk to you alone but he can’t. He can’t run away again when things get difficult, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave you. He had to make things right, but he wasn’t sure how.

Simon didn’t feel like he could move. He slid his boots off, sliding them in their spot in the corner. He moved slowly, cautiously as he inched closer to the closet. He was barely peeking around the corner when you spun and growled at him. Growled. Deeply, from so far in your chest he hadn’t thought an Omega could make that noise.

Your eyes had shifted from being you, shifting into a deeper and more primal look. They softened, slowly, as your snarl faded carefully. You had remained crouched next to the two pups, your hands still gently laid on each of them.

When you growled, you could smell fear coming from Simon. You aren’t entirely sure if that’s what pulled you out of this weird and deeply defensive spot. The father of your pups, your Alpha was standing above you and looking down at you with wide eyes. You watched as he carefully slid the balaclava off, his eyes dropping down to take a look at your pups. You shifted a little, no longer crouching down in front of them.

His eyes became softer, his brows no longer furrowed so deep into his eyes that he almost looked awed. You knew they had his eyes, although a little lighter because of how young they were. They looked so similar, although your little Lily had more of your features than her fathers. Finley, on the other hand, had his stronger features but he had your hair. Maybe he had your nose, but you were partial to your pups.

You said nothing as you handed one of them to their father. Lily shifted, her nose scrunching up as she inhaled his scent up close but it slowly disappeared as she became comfortable. Her little hand grabbed at his shirt, and one of his hands moved to stroke against her hair. He held her closer to him, and you could see his nose twitch a little as he inhaled her scent.

“I want to retire,” he whispered, not looking away from the little pup in your arms. You could feel your heart stop, your eyes almost welling with tears as the realization slowly sunk in. Your pups would have their father, and you would have your alpha.

“Do you know their names?” You whispered softly, watching as he looked up at you. He shook his head and you gave him a weak smile. You still hurt, not just physically, but emotionally. He had abandoned you. And yet he was here now, holding Lily in his arm and his eyes felt so gentle while he looked at you. “You’re holding Lily,” and he nodded, his nose twitching a little bit. “Finley is down here,”

“How do you differentiate them?” You gave a little laugh, picking up Finley and letting Simon grab onto the two of them. Your big, scary looking alpha was standing there with his head ducked down looking at his pups. He seemed so gentle, his jaw was relaxed and his brows weren’t furrowed. He seemed almost happy.

You glanced away from the three of them, swallowing thickly. “Lily’s scent is a little stronger, kind of like yours. Finley isn’t as shifty and he’s a little quieter. Mostly it’s just their scent, though, but also. Other things,” you glanced away and heard Simon laugh from deep in his chest. His eyes were scrunched up, and his head was tossed back.

Genuinely, you don’t remember if you’d ever seen him laugh as hard as that. You’re not sure that you have, and it made you feel warm. Your chest hurt, but in a good way this time. You could feel your cheeks aching from the smile you had on your face, watching your little pack enjoy themselves.

For some time, the two of your stood there basking in the little family you had. Simon finally sat himself in your nest, and you showed him how to change their diapers. The two of you sat there for what felt like minutes, but had to be hours. He helped you to the toilet when the pain relievers finally stopped working as well, helping to prepare your new pad and helping you get back up.

The first night you were able to spend with him, you hadn’t woken up once. You’d stashed away some pumped milk in a little mini fridge they’d let you keep in the room just for this, and when you woke up and added some more that you’d packaged you noticed a few missing. You smiled a little, glancing at him snoring away in the bed you shared.

It didn’t take long for his retirement to become official. The two of you found a little place not too far from the compound, and he’d gotten a new job. It was pretty decent, but he also received an alright amount of money from the government for his service. You were still working in the medical field, but you found yourself leaning more towards finding an office job, one where you could actually have decent hours to be able to help care for the pups.

Raising two pups at once was difficult. Sure, Simon helped when and where he could, but it was just difficult in general. When one pup wasn’t crying, it was the other. When one needed a diaper change, the other suddenly needed one as well. You were just happy to have your mate and your pups healthy, happy and not at risk to die.

Until Simon got a phone call.

“They think Makarov survived,” he whispered to you in bed after you came back from finishing your pumping. You could feel your blood run cold, and you turned over to look at him.

“What?”

He sighed deeply, shifting his head to look at you. “They have some,” he paused and swallowed. “Evidence. They think he’s still alive, and we need to find him. Kill him,” and your heart was suddenly pounding.

“We?”

You watched as his eyes closed, his scent changing to one that confused you. “They need me to help them,” he whispered, his hand finding yours carefully. He squeezed it, and you squeezed back. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes and feeling your heart begin to slow down.

Opening your eyes, you looked carefully at Simon. Even in the dark, you could see his brow furrowed. “I’m coming with,” you whispered. He sat up straight, elbow locked as he held himself up.

“Absolutely not,” his voice was stern, almost a growl. “You will not be going anywhere near this mission,”

You scoffed, rolling back over onto your back. Your eyes gazed across the dark ceiling. “I’m coming with you,” you whispered once more. Simon shook his head, his free hand sliding across his face.

It was a week long argument. Tempers were short, and things weren’t very happy within the house. The two of you still worked together with the pups, but it was silent. He still took care of the pups at night, even though he was sleeping in your guest bedroom. You stayed quiet, listening faintly in on his phone calls. He was trying to stay quiet, you could tell.

It was mostly arguing, at least from his end. Anger about not wanting you to go with, and whoever he was talking with appeared to be arguing for your help. He was always a little angrier after finishing the call, but he stowed away with the pups while they took their naps and seemed to just stew with the thoughts for a while.

After a week, probably just a little longer, he finally came up to you with his head down. He wasn’t making eye contact, but his brows were still furrowed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment. You nodded, continuing to package the breastmilk you’d just finished pumping. “Price wants you to join, he’s worried there might be issues with medical care while we’re on the mission,” you nodded again but paused after finally registering what he was saying.

“Price said what?”

And the mission was horrible. Absolutely horrible.

The only part you truly remember about it was watching as Soap took a gunshot to the head. You watched the blood pour out of him, heard the shouts and ensuing chaos.

Makarov got away. You did what you could, but at the end of the day you had no way of saving Soap. Simon had grown silent, and the return to the compound was horrible. Price’s omega was taking care of the pups, as their own were almost finished with their last years of school. And you left the 141 alone as they spread his ashes, holding Simon close as he sobbed into your body.

His grip on you those next few weeks were incredibly strong, his arms not letting you out of bed when you needed to use the bathroom, and he was just a little withdrawn for some time.

You named your next pup after Soap. And Simon slowly grew better about the passing, the 141 was often around to see their pack-pups. Everything felt wrong without Johnny, though. No longer just Soap, it was Johnny. Even your youngest had become Johnny, and Simon was able to keep himself from being especially partial to the young one.

They grew up so fast, but it took so long. And maybe it should have felt good, but Christ were they some difficult pups at times. Lily had her first rut, as did Finley. Johnny hadn’t yet presented, so you were just assuming he was a Beta until he would present. Maybe he wouldn’t, but you loved your little pups more than you had ever thought possible.

It wasn’t all too bad. The 141 stuck around, and you found yourselves living in the same neighborhood as the other two. Gaz had found himself a mate, and they had a few pups of their own. You helped with the birth of the first, just as Price’s Omega had done for you. They were there as well, and Simon was holding Gaz back even with the shrieks.

Gaz had tried throwing the two of you out of the room, as his omega had ended up in a similar situation to you. In the middle of birth suddenly, and unable to make it to a hospital in time. Lucky bastard, the birth took twenty minutes.

But you were happy. And that’s all that mattered.

TAGLIST (finished for Maple Syrup, please let me know if you’d eventually like to be added to a general Ghost x Reader taglist, or just no longer be tagged 🫶)

Some tags are not accepted, as it won’t show your blogs when i’m tagging. i’m so sorry!!

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon @stargatenovus @cowboydisaster @josieguts @the-queen-of-england183 @littlelovebug98 @cringeycookies @averytiredfanfictionwriter @kariiiel @http-paprika @snorklingfae @lukneetoonz @wise-owl @waves-against-a-cliff @megkviss @ducks118 @404lunar @zoom-zoom77 @hollowmasque @bootabo2000 @ducks118 @bunnyvs @perfectus-in-morte @itsmytimetoodream @the-occasional-artist1125 @lunamoonbby @ghostslittlegf @teddywebby @astro-ghoul99 @vicky-09 @batmanunicorns523 @xuanzhe @tsugikatsuhowl

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serawritesthings · 6 months

Note

hi! do you take requests? if not you can discard this but i really love the way you write emotionally charged moments so i’d love your writing style on this prompt, it can be a one shot or more of a blurb whichever you like: so perhaps taking place post canon where arthur is found half dead on that cliff and reader is nursing him back to health, trying hard to stay strong and believe he’ll get better but arthur is just waiting to die any day now and wishing he hadn’t been found, until he hears reader in another room crying to herself having to see him so deathly ill like that and slowly losing hope. so he starts feeling more determined to at least try for her sake and maybe see her smile one last time. but in the end he does get better, not quite back to his full strength yet but better 🥹 hope i didn’t ramble too much, i absolutely love your work and the way you write and i can’t wait to see what you post next 🫶🏻

IN TREMBLING ARMS

Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary | While the world you had built around yourself seemed to crumble right before you, the last measures to sustain your happiness grew hard to take as the man you love fell deeper into his own despair. Tags | Angst-heavy, description of violence and wounds, fluff somewhere... :o Word Count | 11.4k A/N | Hiiii lovelies! ♡ I recently got this request that I really liked the sound of, which meant I obviously had to write it;) I hope what I wrote was in tune with what you had in mind! Enjoy! Also, thank you for the kind words♡

The pain of recalling an old life is surely something we’re all familiar with. Undoubtedly, it’s a brutal world we live in, one that sometimes takes too much and only gives small crumbles in return. You often found yourself crawling the ground to pick up these crumbs, laden with dust and dirt, just like your joyous memories are tainted in blood and pain–small glimpses of happiness amidst the hardship in day-to-day life, the tiny things that make living worth fighting for.

They were all thanks to Arthur. You’d been aware for quite a while that he didn’t think highly of himself, meaning he couldn’t possibly estimate how much his presence impacted your life. He couldn’t see that every good memory lately was in his favor–how he held your entire world in the bare palm of his hands. He could never understand, and you could tell he didn’t.

Every part of you was clinging to the last remains of a man who dropped the world’s weight off his shoulders, preparing to breathe the last breaths on this earth, alone and without you. It was so close now that you could almost taste it. You could tell by how his shoulders dropped heavily in resignation, the words that grew dull and lifeless, and his wit that never failed to bring a smile to your lips disappeared.

Even so, you saw glimpses of the man you fell for, and if you looked closely, you could find those few crumbles that gave you hope, even though they were ridden with filth. He’d still pinch your waist lightly to jest when you were in a bad mood, always putting your comfort above his own, even though he needed it more.

The burden on his shoulders was heavier than ever when he returned from being out. He was no doubt following Dutch's careless orders that, with time, became more uncaring and, worst of all, unsafe. It bothered you heavily that there was no regret anymore as he bid his orders around like Arthur wasn’t hunching down in exhaust with every step, more often than not needing a seat as coughs so rough wrecked through him, never failing to make you cringe.

Of course, Arthur could take care of himself, never stopping short of explaining that to you. But now, times were different, and you could see his eyes grow slightly more hollow every time he returned to you, and his bloodshot eyes grew into normality.

So naturally, you never stopped short when voicing your concerns to Arthur, but he was so headstrong he refused to acknowledge the toll everything was taking on his body. Deep down, you wondered if he continued since he had come to terms with his fate, putting other’s safety before his own because he had simply stopped trying.

He damned you for not listening to him, but his words held no real threat because he couldn't find it in himself to force you away against your will. So he let you stay, and through his violent coughs and wheezing, he always felt you rub his back soothingly, knowing that his time was running short. Because of this, he took every chance to bask in your gentle touches that felt more like home than anything else.

"Did you find out anything about John today?" Speaking softly, you run your fingers through his tousled hair, undoubtedly from wearing his rugged hat all day, observing his tired face as you were on his lap, Arthur sitting down as he came back to rest his aching legs.

"Mmm, we did." Thumbing at the fabric of the shirt you had stolen from him, he let the words rumble softly against you, breathing warmly against the chilled skin of your cheek.

"Abigail's real worried, you know, begged to come with us." Humming, you pondered over his words. Your dear friend has been over her head in worry as of late, the disappearance of John not doing the slightest to ease her anxiety.

"We'll get him back." You weren't sure if you were reassuring Arthur or yourself, but then again, there wasn't much you were sure of anymore. It seemed unlikely that anything you would say would comfort him, but that didn’t mean you didn’t try–every chance you got, you wanted to make him see reason.

Bringing you closer, he breathed heavily into your shoulder, throat whistling slightly from the strain, as his hands gripped your waist firmly, sighing in contentment when you hugged him back.

"How are you feeling?" you whispered, earlier taking notice of his eyes that had grown redder than usual and the slight blood stain he hastily wiped when you approached him, hoping you didn't get the time to spot it.

"The usual, I guess." Nodding slightly to appear positive before you, he let out a heavy sigh.

As the silence stretched, he kissed the top of your head lovingly after a while when you nuzzled your head further into his shoulder, savoring the moment since you hadn’t seen him much these past days.

"Tomorrow, me and Sadie thought about goin’-" You didn't give him a chance to finish, lifting your head from his shoulder as a frown appeared. God, you knew it was coming, but you had hoped he would still see reason and not do something stupid like that in his condition.

"Couldn't someone else go with Sadie? You not-" Catching yourself before you said the words you knew would get him riled up, you sighed slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about you, Arthur. About everything."

"Hey." Cradling you closer, he softly grabbed your chin between his calloused fingers, beckoning you to meet his warm gaze. "What did we talk about, hm? I'll be alright."

You grabbed his cheek and stroked your thumbs against the scarred skin. He was so beautiful to you, just like he had always been, and you were sure he would scoff at you if you voiced your thoughts. But it was true. That face had seen you through the most challenging times of your life, and never had they been the reason for your tribulations and sadness.

"Now you're just lying to me to make me feel better." A long silence followed as you stared at each other, both stubborn beyond means, until the corners of his mouth raised slightly, a low chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but smile against your will, trying to keep your previous frown on your face.

His eyes, often weathered and wise, turned into soft pools of warmth and affection as they gazed at you. The world’s weight seemed to lift every time, even now, leaving only the tender vulnerability of a man deeply in love.

"Now, now," he spoke, words growing into his usual teasing tone as he grazed his hands along the fabric covering your sides, a wicked smirk growing on his lips. There’s an intoxicating allure to how his lips curve, never stopping short of making the butterflies in your stomach go haywire. "There's that smile I've been looking for."

Slightly tickling the sides of your stomach, you gasped as you tried peeling his hands away when a giggle left you from the unexpected sensation. Damned be Arthur and his refusal to let you worry about him, always trying to lessen your pain when he was severely worse.

"No, Arthur! Stop it!" Laughing merrily, he placed small kisses in the small crevice of your neck, relentlessly tickling your sides as you squirmed in his arms, an ugly laugh leaving you as you found it harder and harder to breathe amidst his torture. He snickered audibly at the sound leaving you, always finding humor in the strange quirks he loved so much.

The moment didn't last long, though, for the gut-wrenching coughs that left him amidst your banter made the cheerfulness of the moment quickly grow into a distant memory. Arthur would tell you he was okay and that all he needed was a few moments, just like he always did, but you both knew the disease was growing more severe as time passed.

Your precious memories grew less and less, though, and as time passed, there were hardly any crumbs left for you to pick up. The ugly paint of power, distrust, and hatred covered them. A hatred that grew so deep in every single being that surrounded you, and even in yourself. Hostility from one’s upbringing, misfortune, and wrong-doings. Bitterness for striving towards a goal that doesn’t have a finishing line, only a no-return sign at both the start and end.

A selfish disdain, it is, and oh so human. How could you possibly find the end where everyone could make amends when they had no will to change? How could you save him when he didn’t want to be saved? His only interest now was to get everyone away from the gang that he could for the time being. It had been apparent for some time now that whatever this was, it was over.

Because of this, Arthur told you to leave some time ago. He had begged you on his hands and knees as the blood he coughed up dripped like rain down his paled, gray skin. A beautiful tragedy it was, one that would leave people in a theater with tears glistening down their cheeks as the sight before them clenched at their hearts. That wasn’t how you experienced it, though. It was more like someone cutting through your numb skin and laying your heart down on the table to unfold every crevice and nook to prod at every part that hurt so terribly with a knife.

It made you wonder if hearts could bleed. You weren’t sure, but somehow you knew yours did as every strained cough from the man you love caused the tears that fell from your eyes to turn into a deep red, mingling with his on the ground.

As he begged, you could only stare at the ghost of a man you once loved: the warm skin turning cold under the palm of your hands, calculating and mischievous eyes growing vulnerable and exposed, and strong arms that once held you tightly, weak and skinny. They gripped your skirt for dear life like the sullen fabric covered with filth kept his weary body alive. And god, how you tried, despite the pitying looks thrown your way and resistance from Arthur's side, you wanted to keep him alive.

You had hated no one in your meager, seemingly insignificant life, but you hated Arthur. You hated him passionately for trying to make you leave behind the only thing that made you feel even the slightest bit of happiness. The only reason you had stayed with these people for so long was him, only him, and now he asked you to leave so he could spend the rest of his short time either getting shot or dying from his disease?

“You go now, or I’ll drag you on that train myself and tie you to the seat.” Silence had followed his last attempt to push you away, thick with a wave of heated anger from both of you as the remnants of your love grew shrouded in an unwillingness to understand. You didn’t want to recognize his worry, for you knew it would be the end for you and him.

“I ain’t got much left to lose now, so I must do this. You have to understand. Go.” The bitterness in his words grew colder as he spoke; the conversation that started so filled with passion grew harsh.

“Don’t get much to lose?” Your meek voice was choked up with frustration as you felt your heart drop to the ground. “What about me?!”

Everything hurt deeply, like he had set your whole body alight and then stomped on the remaining ashes. You had tried so hard to keep your head straight for Arthur through these challenging times, following every step he took loyally, never once questioning his decisions. Him telling you to leave had been the final straw. For him to expect you to give up everything you had done for him made you wonder how much you were worth to him.

“You can’t just tell me to leave!” Broken sobs left you when you spoke, hands trembling where you tried to rip his hands off your skirt, anything to lessen the tightening in your chest. When he didn’t ease his grip, your hands hit his chest as tears flowed down your warm cheeks. He closed his eyes from where he sat, the grip on your skirt turning his skin ghostly pale as you tried to create some distance, refusing to let you back away.

In your head, he was supposed to want you with him until the last second, and you could not dare imagine it any other way. Because of this, it wounded you deeper than he could imagine.

The hands that never once had grown harsh with you only pulled you closer, letting you bat tirelessly at him while your eyes grew heavy with a furious sadness gnawing at your insides. The surrounding air had become thicker than it usually was in the confines of Beaver Hollow, so it left you gasping for air as the distress wound its way around your throat.

His eyes were as warm as they always seemed when looking at you, and you damned him for it. Even when Arthur broke your heart, he rendered you entirely at his mercy the way he kept this gaze reserved for only you–like he understood you.

“I hate you.” Growing weak, you sank to your knees and rested your weary head on his chest, letting him hold you as you trembled in his sickly arms.

Soon after that, it seemed everything had reached a breaking point, and it couldn’t have been late enough. Arthur put you behind Sadie on the tall horse, making her promise to get you somewhere safe while he went and risked his life. Risk it for what you thought, kicking and screaming at him as he lifted you. Sadie was trying to comfort you, her hand on your waist as the worry for you and Arthur filled her mind.

"Let me down!" Tears were falling from your bloodshot eyes, filled with endless pools of agony and sorrow as the man before you avoided your gaze. "You're not sending me away!" You attempted to swing your leg over the saddle as you spoke through the hiccups that wrecked through you, fighting against Sadie’s hold.

"Please, sweetheart, come on." Broad arms caught your waist hastily, lifting you to put you back behind the worried woman. "Go with Sadie, now; she'll keep you safe." His voice grew distressed as you resisted, a deep worry for your safety that he always kept as a priority clouding his thoughts when you didn’t comply.

Not listening to him, you shimmered down the horse and threw your arms around Arthur's familiar embrace, burying your head in his shoulder as you breathed in his familiar scent. "Don't leave me here; please take me with you."

You knew now that his death was inevitable, an end you had refused to acknowledge as possible ever since you first set your eyes on him. Despite this, the love you kept for him made everything pale in comparison, not wanting to spend the endless days of the remaining part of your life without him. If he would find his solace in death, so would you.

He didn't answer you, instead wounding his arms around your smaller frame as he hugged you tightly against him, trying to map out every part of you into his mind so that even in death, he could remember the feeling of you forever.

"Don't go." You begged him without shame, holding onto him tightly as your tears darkened the material of his shirt. "I'm begging you."

You felt a pair of hands cover your cheeks, the blue orbs you knew so well staring reassuringly into yours, hiding the endless anguish taking cover behind its facade.

"I love you, sweetheart." His voice shook as he spoke, gazing with a terrible agony into yours. "I love you so much, you hear me?" Shaking your head slightly as he said, you could only weep as you realized your attempts to save him were useless.

"I love you too, Arthur," you said through sobs. Arthur was stroking the tears from your eyes as he pulled you in one last time, face scrunching together from having to leave you as he kissed the top of your hair.

So, in the end, he watched you leave as you stared after him in disbelief when Sadie set off, your body growing numb as he disappeared between the forest trees, hugging the woman as sobs wrecked through you.

"God." Crouching down, he panted as coughs broke through the silence surrounding him after you departed. But it didn’t seem to be the only thing rendering him on his knee as the dirty ground prodded at his knees, the all-to-consuming thought of never seeing you again clamping at his heart something so fierce he thought he might heave.

He had never been a stranger to heartache, having lived a life full of gut-wrenching memories and stories that were not for the faint-heartedly. But this, this was something entirely else. All these years of fighting, never knowing where he would rest his head the next night, and for what? So he could be free? He had been angry, so very angry at the world.

It all felt meaningless now, the constant blood on his hands, the pain he had brought others that might as well have been him had he chosen another path, the choice to drag you with him to the gates of hell instead of taking your hand and running off so he could keep you forever.

And in the end, as he lay there on the mountain, bleak eyes staring at the rising sun, he could feel an unfamiliar peace crawl up his feet, relaxing the very troubled muscles that had never rested up to his chest where a heavy weight had been present his whole life. In it, the heaviness had torn a big hole in his chest that pulled every good thing that had found him in his life into the prolonged darkness.

But somehow, a relief was spreading in his mind as he figured peace was closer than he thought, slowly and surely beginning to unfold in front of him. Darkness spread around him as the last lights reached his eyes before the tired lids grew shut, the now ever-so-strong memory of you branded into his mind.

–

You were no stranger to the rain. As a child, you reveled in the droplets that fell from the sky when the clouds formed. It was so simple, yet a memory so strong that it stuck with you throughout your life. Now, though, the rain that clung to your clothes only made the numbness grow worse, unable to feel your fingers as you rode on the muddy path that stretched before you, slippery and treacherous. It was no longer comforting, raking through your body like ice, chilling you from tip to toe.

Although not sure of your actions, there wasn't a single regret in your body for leaving both Sadie and Abigail when they found John, taking the first chance to head back the way you came from, the glimmer of hope that you would discover Arthur alive pushing you on, even though it dimmed with time.

When John returned, he could only look at you sadly while shaking his head, the look in his eyes enough for you to understand that Arthur hadn’t come with him. But you knew, of course you did, that he wasn’t coming back to you; his words and your knowledge of his ways are telling enough.

You had calmed down now, thinking more logically, but you preferred how you felt before instead of the hole beginning to form in your chest. It consumed you, growing bleaker and bleaker with time, making you wonder if you would ever find Arthur.

You found him eventually, but the torment of seeing him lying lifeless as the warm, lingering evening sun glazed over his skin beat at your bruised heart. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looked so small, like his body was cowering against the ground, seeking shelter from the cold breeze and a world that had grown so cruel, so malicious.

If the anguish following his departure was anything to go by, the sheer pain that shot through you after your bewildered moment of silence could only be likened to a thousand times worse. What you had feared the most seemed to be reality now, and it couldn’t have hurt any less.

Your aching feet, sore from climbing the far way up the mountain, ran the muddy path up to him as your hands enclosed his cold cheeks–swollen and purple with bruises as dried blood covered the majority of his skin.

“No, no, no!” You mouthed the words since you couldn’t get a single sound to leave you, a force so firmly clamping at your throat. You grabbed his clothes, shaking him as if it would make a difference and show a sign of life. It didn’t work, so you could only wrap your trembling arms around his neck, wailing out his name while begging the heavens above to bring him back to you, for the pain was too much to bear.

How would you continue life without him? The thought was too heavy to consider, your distressed mind refusing to believe he was gone. He’d always rise back up the moment something brought him down, so strong mentally and physically that you sometimes wondered how he was real. Why couldn’t he do that now and spare you all this hurt?

“Do you remember when we first met, how you always told me we would run away, just you and me?" Grabbing his hand, you placed small, lingering kisses on the battered knuckles, intertwining his fingers with yours as your voice trembled fiercely.

There had been a magnetic pull in the way his gaze had lingered on you when he spoke of his deepest wishes as if every word was a silent vow etched into the very fabric of your relationship. It’s something you both said of often when everything grew heavy, like an escape from reality to what things could be.

“How can we do that now if you’re going to leave me?” Sobs wrecked through you, gazing at his closed eyes while you internally begged for them to open. “Why are you leaving me?!”

Resting your head on his chest, you breathed in the scent solely your Arthur as he flooded your senses. Your guttural cries of anguish filled the air until your voice broke, eyes growing heavy with strain while you could only lay there with him, imagining he was alive under you.

Your head had grown empty after that, laying upon the body you had so many times before. You remembered the moments of complete and utter peace when he held you in the confines of his tent, warm hands always managing to find sanction around your waist no matter how exhausted he was.

The thought made you smile, remembering how his heartbeat would pick up as you intertwined your fingers. He was in many ways stoic, rarely sharing how you affected him, but you knew. In secret, of course, you knew, and you would kill to feel that again.

But when he fell asleep underneath you, the beating pattern would cease and instead follow a slower thud, never failing to bring you to sleep. Just like it beat now, you felt the lids of your eyes that were still wet with tears grow heavy under the comforting thudding of his heart, lulling you closer and closer to sleep.

Your eyes shot open so fast that you almost got a whiplash, raising your knees in disbelief. Arthur was lying still even now, body still beaten and bruised, but as you put your fingers on his pulse, you could feel it.

There it was, the slight thud of a pulse buried deep between the layers of skin and flesh, keeping Arthur alive despite the turmoil that had rendered his body almost inert. Grabbing the sides of his face, you shook it slightly, hope now filling your mind even though he didn’t move a single muscle.

God, he was alive, even though barely. The air got lodged in your throat as you felt puzzled, having been dead set on having to bury a corpse.

“Arthur, can you hear me?” Not a single indication left him as you spoke, wiping the hair covering his eyes so you could get a better look at him. A slight fluttering of his eyelashes could be seen as your voice broke through the stillness of the mountain. The more you grabbed his body in disbelief, the more movements you saw from him: fingers twitching slightly, small intakes of breath, and brows furrowing in small motions.

Raising on your feet, you sat down with his head in your lap, stroking his cheeks gently before you started tapping at them briskly, anything to wake him up. It didn’t work, so you started calling for him loudly, hoping it would reach him wherever he was.

“God dammit, Arthur, wake up!”

That did it. Unfocused eyes began to open up from underneath you, though Arthur found it difficult because of the swelling around the eyes. Seeing him so beaten up hurt you heavily, but you put all your energy into making him regain consciousness, forcing the turmoil far away from your mind.

“Hey, look at me. Can you see me?” The slightest motion of a nod could be seen, and you thanked whoever above that he responded to you.

Although through blurry eyes, he could see a slight indication of you hovering above him, wondering if he somehow had ended up in heaven to be able to gaze at you one last time. But maybe it was hell after all, the torturing fire replaced with you, barely in reach where he couldn’t touch you, which was the worst kind of torture he could conjure up.

You could see his fingers flex slightly, in your mind trying to show signs that he heard you, but in his stretching so he could reach out to you to touch the softness of your skin with his sinful hands.

“I need your help, Arthur. I can’t carry you alone, so you need to try, okay?” To be quite honest with yourself, you had no idea what you were doing, never mind if it was even possible to get him to move to the state he was in. But you had to try, at least. You weren’t leaving him here to fend for himself in search of help, pondering if those few moments could lead to his death. It was the only way.

“I told you to leave.” Amidst his close-to-death confusion, Arthur had grown more conscious, managing to speak as his eyes closed again. He realized you weren’t conjured up; instead, you were as real as could be as you prodded at his exhausted limbs.

You ignored his hurtful words, putting your arms under his head so you could assist in getting him to raise. He wasn’t light, that was for sure, but still, you tried until he was sitting up, although his head was hanging low and his back was arched forward in exhaustion.

“Come on, Arthur, I need you to help me.” Amidst your tries to keep him upright, you felt the all too familiar flood of tears threatening to flood from your eyes when the challenge felt impossible. You never felt so weak as you did right now, the possibility of helping him stay alive fading against the man's heaviness and your weary muscles.

“Honey, go. You-” Arthur slurred out as he almost dropped. “You shouldn’t be here.” Yelling in frustration as he once again fell towards the muddy ground, you put your hand over your face as the dam of tears broke.

“I’m not leaving you here to die, Arthur!” Taking a deep breath, you bent down again to try once more. His eyes were barely open now, staring at you in pain. “Please, just try.”

A loud grunt left him as he raised again, hands gripping the soil underneath him, damning your stubbornness. Although weak, you managed to get him to stand, leaning most of his weight on you. It was hard, no doubt, to feel his body supporting your smaller one, but it worked, for now. The breaths leaving him were awful, and he gasped out loud as you stepped forward slowly.

“This ain’t gonna work, honey,” Arthur mumbled, not a single hope left in his body to survive the long way to safety.

“Yes, it is.” You refused to listen to him, mind set straight on getting him to the horse.

Far back in your mind, you remembered a place Arthur used to take you, always going on about a man he used to hunt with until your ears bled. He had told you of its location when the poor man had died, bringing you there once. That should be fine, you thought. Hopefully, it was empty. If not, you have another problem on your hands.

The way back to the mare was challenging, with both of you falling countless times as the ground underneath you was uneven and riddled with stones. But your stubbornness wasn’t in vain because, after some time, you saw the familiar black coat of the horse appearing in front of you like an angel.

Not a single sound left him, eyes now almost closed as coughs left him then and again, both body and mind tired. He was taller than you, so he got on the horse much faster than you initially thought possible. Soon after, you swung your legs over the saddle in front of him, letting him lean his weight on you as you circled his arms around your waist so he wouldn’t fall off.

“Stay awake, Arthur.” Glancing back when you didn’t get an answer, you only met a tuft of hair as his head fell on your shoulder. “Come on, I can’t do this without your help.”

The road to the house you barely remembered was long, and you couldn’t ride too fast, worried about the grip on you that grew less by the minute. Thankfully, he had managed to stay awake the whole ride, but you felt his breathing grow more unstable and shallow.

The weather on that mountain had been forgiving, like time and space had stopped moving in sorrow, the warm sun covering you in its blanket. Now, though, the howling wind surrounding you made your surroundings bitterly cold, arms held in front of you to see where you were going.

Many times, you tried to speak to make sure he was still with you, but your voice grew muted against the forceful wind, so you gave up, hoping his weight on you meant he held some sort of consciousness.

As time passed and darkness began to spread around you, a small house by a lake appeared behind many trees and foliage. It was different from what you remembered, but still, somehow the same, staring back at you like some sort of angel, the promise of comfort egging you forward.

Not a word was exchanged as you helped him down the horse, a solemn resignation making him follow your will without a complaint, or maybe he was too tired to complain; you weren’t sure.

Stumbling through the doorway, it felt just as cold as outside, shivers shooting through you. It felt strange just barging into a dead man's home, but you deemed your selfishness just, Arthur’s health at the forefront of your mind. Empty of life, it was, and it made you relax slightly, not having to worry about someone else taking refuge here.

Soon, you could rest your heavy arms; you thought as the bed in the right corner of the house appeared before you like a halo. With the door closing behind you with a slam, you waste no time pulling Arthur with you in clumsy steps, letting him lay down on the soft mattress with a huff, dust flying around you as the bed creaked audibly under his weight.

Glancing at Arthur, his face was still contorted in pain as it had been since you found him. You carefully lifted his legs on the bed, removing the filthy, wet shoes from his feet and throwing them to the floor. Leaning over him, you touched his freezing cheek, finding him already passed out.

Hastily, you removed the wet clothes from his shivering body, laying them by the foot of the bed as you hurried to drape the sheets as well as some pelts you found over him to warm him up. Looking around, you tried to get your hands on some firewood to warm up the house, thankfully finding some not too long after your search. Your arms complained, though, from the weight already spent from the strenuous day–blisters on your fingers only worsen it.

The room soon filled itself with an orange glow, bouncing in heavy shadow on the walls, and your whole body huddled close to the fire as you warmed your hands for a moment, not realizing amidst your frenzy that you, also, were almost freezing to death in the chilly night.

It only lasted for a moment, though, the reminder of Arthur making you rise on your tired feet, rummaging through the cupboards and various wardrobes to find some supplies. Luckily, it appeared that the veteran kept quite the supplies on him, which you thanked him for under your breath. Some bandages you were sure you could still use were pushed into your arms, a few tonics that could lessen the pain, and, best of all, coughing medicine.

Walking back on the creaking floor, you dragged a side table closer to the bed and placed what you had found in your search, running outside quickly to get the water pouch hanging off the mare.

It wasn’t easy tending to Arthur; the number of hits he had taken was noticeable. Some kicks to his ribs, it seemed, amidst the various other bruises that loitered his skin. Stopping in your tracks, you wondered who could have done this. You hadn’t thought about it until now; your worry for his safety has been on your mind this entire time.

Micha.

The sudden thought of him sullied your mood even further, making you realize that no Pinkerton would leave him at the brink of death like that. Undoubtedly, they would have finished him off or taken him with them, another way to get to Dutch, for sure.

Cringing deeply at every purple bruise you dragged your finger over, hatred for the man laying his hand on Arthur grew. It was more fierce now than ever, the persistent name-calling and teasing he put him through when the disease started taking its toll not nearly as severe as this. You knew Micha was capable of this; deep down, you had known.

And where was everyone else, you wondered. Thinking logically, everyone had most likely run away the second things went downhill, but Dutch and Charles? Javier? Had they lost Arthur as they escaped from Beaver Hollow? And why did John not return with him if he had been alive?

The questions were running wild in your mind, but you had to put your questions aside for now; there was enough time later to wallow in contempt and confusion. Instead, you focused on cleaning the rest of Arthur’s bloodied face and bandaging the more gruesome gashes on his body. You knew getting him better wouldn’t be easy, but you weren’t ready to give up.

Sighing audibly, you put your head on your knees when you had done all you could and dragged the sheets over his shivering form. Gods, you were tired. It felt like your whole body had been running on spurts of adrenaline until now, and now that you got the chance to sit down, it rushed over you like a tidal wave. The whole ordeal, by any means, had felt like a fever dream.

No, more like a nightmare, you concluded. It was strange, and everything had happened hastily like the time had been fast-forwarded. Quite the difference from now, as the only thing audible was you and Arthur’s breathing and the slosh as the water hit the bridge just outside, time seeming to stand still in the tiny house by the lake.

It felt nice, though, you concluded as your eyes grew heavy. It was like the air around here cleared your sullied head slightly from all the months of stress and worry–gaining some distance even though it wasn’t by much. You could see why the man who had lived here chose to stay, finding the landscape calming yourself.

Often, Arthur would tell you about the man. Hamish, you believed his name was. A veteran, he said as he stroked your hair, telling you about the days he spent with him, softly lulling you to sleep. You had always found their relationship endearing but were only met with a scoff from Arthur every time you voiced your thoughts about their camaraderie. The idea made you smile.

You turned your gaze toward him, gazing thoughtfully. The swelling on his face was severe but not yet rendering him unrecognizable. You admired him for a moment, the rugged masterpiece under the purple bruises that the harsh strokes of life had always weathered. Yet he had always seemed to have been carved with a pen so beautiful everything it created couldn’t be anything less. Every scar, like poetic verses, had always added to his allure.

In many moments, Arthur’s gaze had been a haven for you, a refuge where you could peer into his most profound thoughts when he kept himself away from you. It was a place where you could find solace amidst all the chaos, a silent dialogue–a gaze that showed what he never said. But now they were closed, and the thought left you sadder than anything.

–

You had tended to Arthur many times before, and even though the scrapes had been nasty, this was something entirely else. His disease only worsened the state of his injuries, taking you ten steps back every time you thought you could see a flicker of consciousness in the following days.

Yet, he remained motionless on the bed for days on forward, awful coughing episodes making him shoot straight up from the mattress. Succumbing to the relentless coughing, it echoed in the room with harsh, hacking sounds. Each one seems to wrack his body, the force evident in how his shoulders tense and his grip tightens on whatever’s within reach, the strain etched on Arthur’s face, lines deepening with each cough.

Your hands reach his back to reassuringly rub the warm skin, feeling helpless. Unable to stand his pain any longer, you retrieve the cough medicine you put on the side table, the label on the glass bottle promising relief.

Too out of it to register what you were doing, he only lays there as you pour the liquid down his throat, and as soon as his sore throat swallows the last drops, his eyes flicker close, body relaxing in resignation on the bed.

“You would hate me if you were awake right now.” A breathless laugh left you, hand stroking the hair away from his face as you pondered how long he would stay like this. It seemed that’s what filled your days and nights now, constant worry as you sat plastered by the side of the bed, holding his hand tight as you prayed for whoever would listen to give him back to you.

Rarely did you take the time to open the various cans loitering the cabins, filled with canned food and other things that would fill your stomach well? Instead, you grew nauseous at the thought of it. You took the chance to spoon Arthur some soup, though, the small moments between sleep and wakefulness, hoping it was enough to give him some energy.

Some nights, when the pain was too much to bear, you would wound yourself around Arthur like a snake, being mindful of his injuries as you rested your head on his chest. You would listen to the slow thumping of his heart that had grown steady, slowly falling into a deep sleep, letting your heart rest, if even for a moment.

–

You were unsure how much time had passed in that house, endless days bleeding into each other. Most time was spent looking after Arthur, and when you weren’t, you were perched on the wooden steps of the house, gazing into the flickering water of the lake. Your bleak eyes always stared heedlessly at the scenery before you, and although beautiful, it did nothing to lighten the intricate knot growing in your chest.

Despite trying to keep your head straight, doubts always come to mind whenever you don’t have your hands full. What if you had been wrong all this time, and Arthur wouldn’t get better? The possibility was big, but you couldn’t imagine doing it any other way as you thought more of it. But all this chaos and energy you put into keeping the very soul of him alive, what if it wasn’t enough? What could you do that would be enough?

You walked down the porch steps with light steps, bending down on the bridge to wash your face, hoping it would ease your mind. While it didn’t, seeing your drained face and bleak eyes greying your features worsened it. You could only sigh as the sight of your exhaust reflected in the water.

“God.” You said, sitting back on your heels as you stared into the distance, horrified. No wonder you hadn’t taken the moment to care for yourself in the drastic days of apprehension, having been too wrapped up in the horrifying complications. With closed eyes, you rinsed your face, refusing to give yourself another lookover as you walked back towards the house.

The sight that you saw when entering through the door made your heart rise your throat. Blue eyes you adored so much were staring back at you, and although laden with fatigue, they were halfway open, gazing at you indescribably.

Quietness followed your surprise, and after a moment of contemplation, Arthur mumbled out under his breath. “Why'd you come back?”

His question hung heavy in the air; the only answer you could provide him was a face of bewilderment, mouth dry like cotton.

“I can’t-” As Arthur closed his eyes, a sluggish arm came to rest over his eyes. “-can’t save you now.”

You motioned to speak, but the words were lodged somewhere deep down where you couldn’t bring it up. Instead, you stepped closer to Arthur with small steps, like he wasn’t real. He couldn’t be; you hadn’t been given that hope for the longest time. But he was breathing before you now, moving.

You were so quiet at this moment you even surprised yourself, but as you crawled your way beside Arthur and draped your arms around his neck as you had done so many times before, you found that the bridge holding your tears at bay had blocked the words so they couldn’t escape you. But the bridge overflowed, tears now running freely down your cheeks as the feeling of his arms finally circled your waist.

He held you in that cranky, old bed for a long while, drowsy, sunken-in eyes closing in content regardless of his earlier concern, basking in the warmth your body provided his shivery one as his hands memorized you. The sunlight mirrored its way on your skin, the feeling now warm and tender, unlike the cold and empty touch it grazed with you before.

Arthur’s raspy voice pulled you closer in his embrace as he consoled you, tears wetting the skin on his neck as you gripped the strands of his hair tightly in your grasp.

“Hush, now.” He murmured out, voice so comforting it only increased your sobs.

"Breathe, sweetheart, breathe." Whimpering into his shoulder, you gasped for air between your snivels, breathing erratic that grew somewhat more stable as he ran his broad hand over the small of your back, hushing soothingly.

Things seemed to ease up from that day onward, and now that Arthur grew more conscious, you didn’t feel the draft of loneliness waft through you anymore. Still, he wasn’t up on his feet yet, heavily bedridden as the slightest movement could set off his coughing.

While his recovery gladened you something immensely, you could tell it put a heavy strain on his confidence; not used to being so weak and counterproductive. You could see how his eyes faltered when you tended to his wounds and how he avoided your gaze as you helped him eat, a deep confliction noticeable.

In these moments, he grew quieter than he usually was now. It was like he was waiting for something–something that was just out of his reach, putting a distance between you that wounded you deeply. You had to tell yourself many times to give him some time, to provide him with some peace of mind as he recovered from the trauma to both his body and soul.

So, you took the struggles daily, and as you stayed with him, you could see a glimmer of the Arthur you knew–the stubbornness, the humor, the fierce loyalty. But they are fleeting moments, overshadowed by the weight of his conviction that he is destined for a different path that doesn’t intertwine with the life you could offer.

“You know,” He told you one night, surprising you as you were plastered on the chair beside his bed, stroking the back of his hand while deep in thought. “I always felt at peace out here, like the air is different somehow.” He only got a hum as your eyes were locked on his fingers, intertwined with your smaller ones.

“It’s something I always imagined for us.” He murmured, staring at the ceiling as he searched for the words to voice his thoughts rightly. “Well, when times grew hard, I thought about it quite a lot.”

After some time, a small smile graced the corners of your lips, never having heard him be so open with you. You often voiced your wishes to run away together, towards something more fulfilling, something that would ultimately be safe. An ordinary life with Arthur was more than you could ever ask for, always opting to tell him about it late at night when he was too tired to react fully to your words.

It wasn’t possible; you both knew it, so it was only decided as wishful thinking. Also, Arthur always shot the idea down when you steered the conversation that way. He was too loyal to Dutch, finding your words unthinkable, constantly shaking them off as nonsense. Now, if it was because he felt that way or finding the thought hurting too much, you didn’t know.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” You spoke quietly, meeting his warm gaze as he stared at you, lifting your hand to his chest, where he placed it against his heart.

“Mmh. Well, every time I passed here, I thought about you.” He smiled slightly at you, continuing as a rumbling chuckle left him mid-sentence. “Hamish asked about you quite a lot, found you fascinating, he said.”

“Me?” You raised your eyebrows, half-endearingly for the thought that Arthur talked about you and half-suprised that you made an impression on the man. “How come?”

“He wondered why a woman like you stayed with someone like me. Said you were doin’ charity work or somethin’ like that.” You rolled your eyes slightly in jest, bringing his hand to your lips as you placed a nimble kiss on the coarse fingers.

“Well, I happen to like doing charity work,” you mumbled against the skin, breath warming the cold tip of his fingers, finding Arthur gazing at you indescribably.

But some days, he let the words that he pondered about day in and day out be heard, and those moments were the hardest for you.

“I don’t understand you.” He would mumble as his head finally began to clear. You told him that John, Abigail, and Jack had likely gone to safety. It made his mouth’s corners chirp slightly, content they got on alright. But as matters turned to you, he suddenly became cold, eyes crinkling when his eyebrows screwed together.

“You get the chance to go and live your life to the fullest, yet you go back to try and save a man that already died a long time ago.” It appeared impossible for him to wrap his head around the thought, looking at you as if you were a scientific experiment.

“You’re not dying.”

“YES, I AM!” You gasped slightly as his voice grew loud suddenly, yelling out the words as his hand pointed at you, eyes wide open where he lay glued to the bed.

“And all I want before I die is to see you safe, and you can’t even give me that!”

He had never yelled at you like this if he had even yelled at you at all. Arthur had always tended to take the image of the rugged, unforgiving brute, but never had he been that way with you. It was always tender touches, calculating glances, and a sense of utter contentment when you were around–acting like you would break if he didn’t keep calm and collected.

It differed from now, the usually calm sea of his eyes now a stormy whirlpool, harshness lining the edges, and it was pointed towards you. You pulled your hands against your chest nervously, wishing to shrink into the ground to avoid his, to you, unjust fury.

“Stop.” Your voice grew quiet as the air in the room seemed to lessen, eyes shooting towards the ground.

Groaning, Arthur raised his arms, gasping when he had to support his weight on it. Stepping forward to help him, you were only faced with his palm begging you to stay away.

“Of course, I couldn’t leave you,” you reply gently. “Besides, I had to know what happened to you.”

“Stubborn woman, didn’t I tell you to go? It ain’t safe anymore.” You backed away, not wanting to listen.

“Now I don’t know where the hell Dutch is, where Micha is, which means this is far from over. That’s why I’m sayin’ you shouldn’t stay!” He tried to reason with you, make you realize that your part in this was over.

He felt conflicted. Whenever he thought of you, he struggled between being selfish and thinking of what was best for you and what he needed to do to keep you alive through all of this. On one side, he longed for every part of you to remain with him, but on the other side, he couldn’t stand you being hurt on his behalf more than you had already been.

He knew he crushed you in the process, it was undeniable, the cries that left you when placed behind Sadie before telling enough–but it had to be done, despite how much he despised himself for putting you through this. You were always so calm and level-headed that he couldn’t be anything more than heartbroken when you called after him that day, the distress so unlike you.

Arthur didn’t like it, which fueled him to push you away even further when he realized you didn’t see reason, deciding that the only plan left was to show you what kind of man he was, or rather, what kind of a man he was to everyone else.

“This isn’t you talking, Arthur.”

“What do you mean it ain’t me talkin’?” His face grew red with strain as he spoke, alerting you as you bent down to meet his gaze, placing your hands on either side of his cheek. He scrunched his eyes together, heart pleading to give into you as your ever–so-gentle hands closed around him.

“You're sick, Arthur, and you’ve been beaten to a pulp. Now, I don’t know what transpired on that mountain, and I’m not sure finding out would do me any good, but I thought-'' Stopping in your tracks, you closed your eyes. “I thought you had died, Arthur. I, I cried for you, thinking I would never see you alive again.”

“I ain’t less than a ghost now, darlin’; you should have left when you had the chance.” He stared tiredly into your eyes and then turned away from you. “You have to accept that. It’d gone much easier if you left me on that mountain.” His heart beat as he voiced the reality of his thoughts, knowing it would hurt you, but the statement was also true.

Silence followed for a long time after that, the turmoil inside you breaking, seeping like blood from the cracks of your heart as you were left staring at the side of his face.

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Arthur, but it has never felt like I’ve known you entirely.” While he gazed at you, the fury still raced deep in the blue orbs, coloring them darker with pain.

“You have a barricade around your heart that I can never breach. And I tried; believe me, I did. For the longest time, I tried to be there for you, be something for you to come home to, to ease your mind that always was off somewhere else, somewhere I could never follow!” Your tone that started quietly grew loud as you spoke, heart racing inside your chest as the words fell like liquid out of your mouth.

“I can’t-” Your voice hitched, angry tears falling unwillingly from your eyes. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me in!”

“I don’t need your help!” You could see Arthur close off from you even more, pushing you away as the harshness of his voice cut you like a razor. “I never had!” His voice broke as he yelled, panting as he sat on the bed, hunching forward as frustration rose.

“Arthur!” You felt anger grow in your chest, finding him unbelievable as you swatted at his chest lightly, standing up to put some distance between you, seeing him trailing after you. “I’m done with you telling me to go when all I live for is you!” Fiery and consuming anger flared within you, setting your cheeks ablaze as you spun around to face him.

“Well, I’m over you being so stubborn all the time! Never listen to me when I only want to see you off safe, caring for me like it’s a glimpse of hope that I’ll survive!” A scoff of disbelief left you, staring at him as you almost laughed in shock.

“Me!? Stubborn!?” Your palm found your forehead, voice laced with anger-filled frustration. “That is very rich coming from Mister. I never listen to anyone other than myself!” You paused before you yelled. “Ever!”

“Because I know what’s best, alright!? And I know that you should be far, far away from me!” A fire started to show in his voice, but it also crept into your bones, warmth spreading on your cheeks.

“Oh, and what?! Find some boring, middle-aged asshole who’ll tie me to the kitchen and make me have tea-party with some lifeless, dreary, pompous, old ladies?!” Your breathing was hectic as the words spilled out in a heated rush.

“Yes, that’s what I want, ‘cause that would mean you would be safe!” He stalked closer, cornering you at the door.

“I’d rather die, Arthur,” you said. “I’d rather die with you than face the long, bleak years of this world alone! You backed away, feeling suffocated when he didn’t give you any space to breathe.

“The only place I feel safe is with you, Arthur!” Your voice broke slightly, gripping his shirt to shake some sense into him. “It’s with you I’ve always felt at home!” Gripping his stubbled cheeks in your palms tightly, you pleaded with him as he gazed into your eyes. “I’m not leaving you; get that through your thick, dumb skull!”

“Stop being so goddamn unselfish and think about yourself for once!” He met your gaze, dark as he stared at you from underneath his brows. “Get out the hell out, leave!”

You only stared at him, cold shivers like freezing water wrecking through you, backing towards the door as his shadow grew more prominent, stepping unbalanced on his feet towards you. Grabbing your shoulders in his broad hands, he stepped so close that all you could see were his eyes blaring into yours.

“Come on!” He yelled, shaking your body as if to shake some sense into your stubborn mind. “GO!”

Choking on your tears in distress, you were left gasping for air as you tried to breathe, feeling his body falter above yours. The coughs that now raked through him made you sink on the floor with him, and as the blood splattered on your dress, covering your chest in a deep red that contrasted the ivory fabric, you sat on the dirty floor, a man devoid of the will to live anymore laying in your trembling arms.

After that, you only felt his lips that sought yours, entangling your limbs together like snakes in a snake pit–not a gentle surrender but a clash of hunger, a collision of lips borne from ages of holding back the reality.

Bloodied lips against bloodied lips met in a fierce urgency after taking a quick breath, fueled by the unspoken desires and the acknowledgment that, despite your disagreements, the love you kept for one another was deeply engrained in both of you, hearts unable to stand the hate you felt.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping as if seeking reassurance as the world blurred. Anger melted into a raw vulnerability, frustration giving way to the unspoken plea, and the desperation grew more considerable than it ever had–and as you both pulled away, breaths heavy and gazed locked, the air crackled around you as he instead hoisted you up in his arms so you could fall into each other’s embrace yet again.

Your tears now rubbed their way down Arthur’s cheeks, your breath hitching as sobs still found their way through you. His broad hands pulled you tighter against him, the inner fight that took place in his mind showing as he wanted to push you away, only to draw you closer to his dying limbs.

“You know I ain’t a good man, honey. That ain’t going to change, ever.” His gaze was gravely and serious as he stared into your eyes, an uncanny vulnerability etching them deep down. “This life lives within me; I can’t escape it. I can’t escape the sins that I carry. I’ve done horrible things, things you couldn’t even dream of.” Sighing, he closed his eyes. “You know that.”

Your eyes softened as you saw the wrinkles in his face release, finally hearing something real coming from him. “You’re not your sins, Arthur. And even if you were, I’d carry them with you, lighten the burden.” Stroking his cheek with the tips of your fingers, he opened his forever lonely eyes, now staring into yours.

“God, I tried, honey. I tried to get you to leave, talkin’ to you in ways I’ve promised myself I never would–everything to get you to leave.” He pushed your head against his shoulder, resting his head on yours in defeat. “It was harder than I thought, see you cryin’ like that.” Sighing heavily, he continued. “But somehow, you always stay.”

“I’m not leaving.” You mumbled against his skin.

“There’s no mistaking that.” He chuckled, stroking your back. “Everything I do is to keep you safe; you’re so stubborn not to realize that.”

“I’m safe when I’m with you, Arthur.” He didn’t answer you for a while, holding you comfortingly. He felt the strings that held his will up loosen, giving up on trying to push you away, the sight of you sobbing tugging at his heart.

“I feel like all I do is make you cry lately.” Staring at your smaller arms that hugged him, the doubt that he still wasn’t good enough for you clouding his mind.

“You make me cry when you push me away,” you admitted, your voice steadier now. “It hurts, Arthur.” He sighed, fingers still entangled in your hair, twisting your hair strands with his fingers.

“I know, honey,” he murmured, a concession to the unspoken ache.

“Then stop.” He lifted your head to make you look at him through wet eyes.

“Stop hurting me; I can’t handle it anymore.” He felt like you had shot him right in his chest as you begged him, staring through vulnerable eyes he rarely saw. He had done countless horrible acts in his life, but this was indeed to be pivoted as the worst, never having felt the pang of agony quite so brutal.

He couldn’t tell how long he would live now, down to his last breaths, but he didn’t have the power to keep you away from him any longer, not when you were so adamant about staying. Had you been angrier at him, he was sure you would take your things and leave him, but there was a part of you he so adoringly loved, a part that always seemed to care too much, love too hard.

Somehow, he praised whoever made you that way because were you not, he would no longer have the light of his life in his arms, even if his time was running out. No longer would he be able to feel the graceful touch of your fingers on his skin and the sparkling in your eyes as you stared up at him in mischief, making him feel more alive than he had ever felt in his miserable life.

Hugging you closer to him, he captured your soft lips in his, feeling the ache only increase as he basked in the way you sighed, relieved. You felt the promise of not pushing you away anymore lingering in the corner of his mouth, dragging you closer to him as hope finally seemed in reach.

–

“And as the last light of day shone through the window, he realized how it felt like to hold the world in the palm of his hands, for her eyes were the window to everything he wishes for, and more.” Glancing mischievously into Arthur’s eyes through the pages, you conclude. “The end.”

Pushing the book’s pages close with a loud bang that echoed through the sunlit room dramatically, you presented him with a toothy smile.

“I never took our dear friend for being such a romantic, Arthur.” Raising from the bed, you spun around to face the man who seemed reluctant to let you go, bending down to stare into his eyes cheekily. “Are you sure you went hunting together? With all these books, maybe you spent your time cooped up here reading romance?” A giggle left you as you walked towards the stove, checking on the stew bubbling deliciously, the smell making your mouth water as it passed your nose when you opened the lid.

Behind you, you could almost hear how Arthur’s eyes rolled back into his head, arms still outstretched towards you. “Sure,” he drawled, staring at you warmly as you teased him. “Our favorite pastime. How did you know?”

His sarcastic tone reached you as the warmth of the cooking burned your tongue slightly when you tried to get a taste, hissing as you dropped the spoon back into the pot.

“You can’t fool me, Arthur; I know you’re a true romantic.” Pushing your finger against the sore part of your tongue, you turn to face him, resting against the counter.

“It’s something I always imagined for us.” You mocked slightly, puffing out your chest as your voice grew into his familiar southern drawl, imitating your earlier talk with him some time ago.

Scoffing at you, he suddenly rose from the bed, the book falling from the floor as he stepped towards you. Perking up at his motion, you found yourself stuck as his arms encased around you, the warm scent of him mingling with the food as he stepped closer.

Cowering slightly under his gaze, you giggled nervously as you leaned back. “Have you ever heard of personal space?” He didn’t answer you as you jested with him, palms finding each side of your face as his eyes observed you tenderly.

God, he loved you like this. Ever since your fight, every obstacle that hindered you from growing closer to each other was breached. Every time you laughed, it filled his heart with warmth, finding the life he once fell in love with reaching you again as you settled; the hardest of times now passed.

He couldn’t help it as he pressed against you, sighing deeply as your lips found his in a loving caress, smoothing over one another as the sound of your slight humming broke through the silence.

It felt like a blessing to have Arthur close again. Some time ago, you feared you had utterly lost him as he remained a shell of who he once was, shielding himself from you and everyone else. Although at ease now, the heavy shadow of his disease still lingered over you like a cloud, most times reminding you of the sad realization that all was not well.

Despite this, you could see how much better he was faring, now both up on his feet and with a sane mind–much more like the man you fell for. At times, the anxiety still clawed its way into your mind, wondering if all of this was too good too last. Although, since both you and Arthur realized that relying your thoughts and fears on one another was fatal if this was going to work, he always kissed your worries away, driving the somber mood gone with his hands.

“Where did you go?” The words rumbled quietly against your lips as your eyes lifted to gaze into his wondering ones, feeling him push your hair behind your ear. You gave him a small smile, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“Secret.” You whispered when you felt him lean closer again, the tension growing in sparks around you.

“Oh, I see. We keepin’ secrets now?” Raising his brows in fake mock, you felt his hands circle your waist so he could lift you around his torso. An innocent smile covered your lips as he hoisted you up, slightly pinching your waist so you let out a breathless laugh.

Stalking back towards the bed, you realized his only plan had been to bring you back all this time, giving Arthur a knowing look. “I am allowed to have some secrets, you know.”

“Are you now?” He smirked at you, kissing your nose before laying you on the soft bed, hovering above you. “I think I know a few ways to get you to speak.” Crawling up your thigh was a hand filled with sinful intent.

“Well, I won’t tell, you brute!!” You laughed as you squirmed against him, wishing his hand away as they traveled further.

“Oh, I’ll show you, brute, darlin´.”

All the wounds and hurt weren’t healed by any means, but as time passed, it started to mend the damage it created. The crumbs that once were so few grew larger and larger, now swapped out with a special love that you were sure was destined just for you and the man who always had it in the palm of his hands–only the need to accept himself in order to let it reach you.

And while this story certainly isn’t over, the worry about Arthur’s health and the glimmer in his eyes he still kept for the life he had lived and would never escape still existed. You could tell he was aware you saw it, noticing him staring longingly into the wild, fingers flexing with anticipation.

But those were thoughts for darker days. For now, as you lay with Arthur’s arms wound around you and the sparkling of the fire cracking into the silence, you would bask in it for as long as you could. With the soup long forgotten—you realized you would follow him to the ends of the earth if he asked you, even if it meant your death.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #red dead redemption imagine

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crystalflie · 1 month

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐡..𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐰..

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 -> 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 (𝟏𝟖+)

Tags: Porn with Plot, Two Shot, Female Reader, Canon Divergence, Getou is a teacher at JJT, Rough Sex, Office Sex, Almost Caught, Crying, Filming, Degradation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Making Out, First Time, Dirty Talk.

Word count: 5200~

[Cross-posted on Ao3]

Description: Getou sees how whipped his best friend was for the cute new office assistant. It's too bad that his best friend was also a total idiot when it came to romancing, so it's not Getou's fault if he got to fuck her first..

Romantically..

Over Gojo Satoru's desk.

————————————————————————

Getou pulled your hips down until you felt his own press into your ass, the unmistakable hardness beneath his pants telling you he was just as affected as you were.

“Or..you can beg me to fuck you silly, right here, right now.”

You blink up at him, not knowing whether to focus on ignoring the unbearable slickness- arousal pooling in your lower half, or on the audacity of this man, for making it seem like it was your idea, that you were the one that asked him to kiss you and touch you and make you like this.

“You’re fucking crazy..”

You decide that for better or worse, you were not about to defile your boss’s poor desk with his literal co-worker. You use the remaining strength in your arms to shove Getou’s chest, hoping to at least throw him off a little so you can get up. However, he hardly budged, chuckling under his breath about how adorable it was that you think you can do anything to him.

“Ohh.. am I now?”

You huffed in frustration, at how all you were doing was further humiliating yourself in front of the insufferably sexy man, and how your currently impure thoughts kept lingering on said man’s rock-hard chest underneath his office casual shirt, which you copped a good feel from during that brief moment of contact.

“Yes-”

Getou rolled his hips, the motion grinding into your dripping cunt, juices practically turning your panties translucent. It was nothing more than a flimsy piece of fabric now, and you wanted it off. Not that you can voice your requests, when you were busy moaning under Getou over a pathetic amount of friction.

“You shouldn’t be talking doll, not when you’re acting like a total slut, and we’ve hardly done anything yet.”

He smiles, a deep shade of rose dusting over what otherwise would’ve been a charming expression, dimples and all.

“Ah, I know. It’s cause you're used to Satoru already fucking his dick miles deep in you by now, right?”

Unholy images flash through your mind for a split second.

“S-Stop talking like that! It’s not true..”

Getou took the time to let his hand roam slowly up to your chest, cupping one of your breasts in his palm and gently giving it a squeeze.

“What isn’t? Hmmm?”

You turn your head to face away from him, with your cheek squishing against the wooden table as you stare forward at the blank wall to your right.

“I-I was just joking.. I didn’t sleep with Gojo-san.”

While you didn’t exactly see how the man reacted, you did hear his breath hitch as you both stilled.

“Listen Getou-san, it-”

The next thing you felt was him gripping your chin, turning your head over to catch you in another messy kiss. This time, it was a lot more aggressive, with Getou forcing his tongue inside to invade and dominate your mouth. He didn’t shut his eyes, holding your helpless, teary gaze threatening to droop, and proceeded to have a long taste of your sweet saliva, which escaped over the corners of your lips. He groans into you at some point, fondling the breast he held in his other hand. You felt nothing short of lightheaded, trembling beneath him as the hand suddenly reached the buttons of your shirt and tugs.

You knew what was coming, Getou made no indication of letting go of your mouth and stepping back to let you slowly take your clothes off. Of course, of course the way you're going to lose your best white collar shirt is from utter horniness.

“Mmph!”

You tried to protest against the man still holding you captive with his mouth, but a ripping noise along with the sound of buttons popping told you it was too late. However, Getou does finally part from your swollen lips.

“Holy shit..you really aren’t wearing a bra. I mean, I could kind of tell, since your cute tits got all hard before I even started playing with you..”

He smirks and then dives down again to flick his tongue over one of your nipples, the action causing you to whine, making you realize how sensitive your chest is.

“W-what! are you..doing?”

Getou looks at you but instead of responding first, he begins licking and sucking on your flushed breast. You gasp but then close your eyes, brows furrowed as you unintentionally indulge in the new sensation. It was wet..and warm, with Getou swirling his tongue and grunting every few seconds or so.

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but everything felt so, so good.

“Ah..!”

Getou lets his teeth dig into your soft flesh, and he sucks harder after hearing you cry out. Your hand finds its way up into his head to grip on the dark locks, accidentally tugging off the band that previously held his hair together. Getou lifted his face from your heaving chest at the feeling of his bangs falling over his eyes. He stares into you and cleans the residue of saliva on his lips with obscene slurping noises.

“Ugh..you’re gross..” You try to avert your gaze to block out the sight of him acting so vulgarly.

“Yeah yeah, keep talking while you still can.”

You huff, which gave him even more pleasure in what he was about to do next. The pads of Getou’s thumbs graze over both sides of your hips, slipping under the cotton fabric of your underwear. He chuckles when you freeze, shooting him a threatening look.

“Do not. Rip these.” Your voice had as much bite to it as a growling puppy, trying to pretend you weren’t desperate for him to hurry up and stop teasing you.

“Relax, I won’t.” At those words, he surprisingly slips off your panties gently, over your legs until it rests in his hand. A wolfish grin takes over his smile as he observes the wet patch on the fabric, then, to your bewilderment, he slips them into his pockets.

You blush harder at that than over the fact that all your parts were completely exposed under him. Getou drags his eyes over your plush, dripping cunt, while you lie uselessly on the desk, waiting for him to make the next move..

“Are you a virgin?” He asks and you stutter, until he cuts you off again.

“Depending on your answer, I may or may not be nicer..Probably.”

You said nothing, only reluctantly nodding, praying that he wouldn’t take the opportunity to make fun of you and just get on with it.

“Oh no darling..” Despite his words, you saw his eyes gleam as you felt his hands creep in between your plush thighs, so close to where you needed him to touch but going no further to your frustration.

“You probably imagined your first time to be all romantic with your patient and loving boyfriend, but that’s too bad.. Sorry baby.”

You didn’t even care that he was just spewing some nonsense to patronize you, but when he retracted his hand from your legs is when you whine at the loss of contact. Through your clouded gaze, you see Getou step back from the desk. You were confused, hearing a little squeak, realizing that the motherfucker plopped himself on Gojo’s chair.

What was he doing?

You annoyingly lift your back off the table to silently glare at him in your sitting position. Getou ignored your grumpy look to take in your exposed and disheveled appearance, skirt rolled up above your hip bones to display your pussy, shirt half off your shoulders and doing nothing to hide your pretty tits. The only thing that was still properly on was your stocking, still hugging onto your thighs.

He wanted to take a photo so badly, and maybe he will. Later. After making more of a mess of you.

“Don’t just glare at me. Go on, prepare yourself.”

Getou propped his elbow on the arm of the chair, waiting for you to move.

“What?” You were stunned. Is he saying what you think he is?

He sighs dramatically, almost imitating how Gojo would.

“I’m telling you to fuck yourself open with your fingers. You have touched yourself before, right?”

It was way too humiliating. There was no way you could do that in front of him, while he..just watches. You cross your arms.

“You’re just going to watch?”

Getou tilted his head, amused.

“What? You want me to get some popcorn too?” He smirks and starts to stand up, causing you slight panic that he might actually leave, but he paused and sat back down again after seeing the cute worry on your face.

“Just kidding..but you better put on a show if you don’t want me to get bored.” Getou himself knew that he was never going to leave this room pitching a tent in his pants, but the bluffing seemed to encourage you.

“Fine..”

You spread your legs wide open, wrapping one arm beneath a thigh to lift it up to your chest, giving the man an eyeful of your twitching cunt. You slowly trail your other hand down until it reaches your sopping pussy, and you bite back a moan at the first touch. You used your index finger to rub a few circles into your aching clit, sighing at finally reaching some proper simulation.

“Don’t hold your voice back.” You hear Getou command.

You couldn’t even look at him right now, only focusing on yourself to forget the spectator that made you slick up even more. You continue to play with your dripping folds, whining at how much your pussy was throbbing. However, the pleasure didn’t make the embarrassment go away, knowing that Getou was burning the image into his mind. The squenching sounds you were producing didn’t make it better. But the thought of him watching..made warmth pool at the bottom of your stomach. You begin pushing a finger into your slit, whimpering at the intrusion, trying to wiggle the digit into your tight walls. After a little work, you were able to fully sink your finger inside, using it to try and loosen yourself a bit more. The second finger went in with a struggle, and you pant as you started trying to scissor yourself, stretching your cunt around your hand. It didn’t hurt too badly as you practically lubricated yourself with your own juices, and you pulled your fingers in and out, the lewdness of the entire situation making you tremble. What’s worse was that you felt your orgasm approaching, your breath becoming unsteady at the building pleasure. Getou must’ve been able to tell as well, as he groaned and you looked up to see him wearing a pleased expression.

“Are you going to cum?” He breaks the silence, eyes still focused on your hand.

You squeak at his voice, fingers stilling inside your pussy as you mutter a quiet yes. Getou hummed, his next sentence making you freeze.

“Take your hand out.” He got up from the chair and walked towards your shaking form, your teary eyes, along with a pout showing how betrayed you felt after all the effort you put in.

You didn’t pull your fingers out yet, but you didn’t dare move them against Getou’s word. Getou stared down at you with a pretend frown, wasting no time in grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand out himself.

“W-Why?” You ask brokenly, not wanting to wait any longer. You were so close, you just needed a little more to go over the edge, your pussy was fluttering around nothing and you were so, so empty.

“You can’t cum without my permission. Ask nicely, and I might let you.” Getou’s grip remained on your wrist.

You swear that you hate him. But apparently not enough to hold onto your dignity. You were too needy and too horny to care, you needed to cum now or you were going to burst out crying.

“P-Please..” You manage to squeeze out.

“What? You gotta use more than just one word, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

You really wished he wouldn’t make you spell it out.

“Can I..can I please cum? Please Suguru..” You knew that using his first name was going to rile him up, but what you weren’t expecting was for him to trap you between his arms against the desk, like earlier, hiding his face in your neck only to growl out,

“I change my mind, the only way you’re cumming is on my cock.” He pressed one last kiss on your throat, and pulled back to undress. You focused on the wall behind him, brain still trying to catch up on what he said and what he was going to do, when you heard the rustling of Getou taking off his belt. You were ashamed to get so excited at the noise, but you wanted nothing more for him to finally fuck you like he promised. Your eyes dart down when Getou unzips his pants and pulls out his erect cock, standing tall with a few pearls of pre-cum on the tip.

You almost did a double take at his size, definitely way bigger than you expected. You didn’t have low expectations either, and you started to get a little nervous wondering how it was going to fit.

Getou hisses as he gives it a few strokes, then catches your eyes flickering toward his length shyly, unsure of what to do at that moment.

“Don’t act coy now, you can touch it.” He said as he took your hand into his, and wrapped it around his stiff cock, your soft palm driving him insane. Getou guided your hand up and down, shamelessly moaning while relishing in your slightly scandalized expression.

“It’s not going to fit..” You whispered.

“Yes it will.” He asserted, continuing the ministrations until suddenly pressing a thumb on top of your lips, pushing until you let him in.

“Mmph..?”

His index finger followed, the long digits stuffing to the back of your throat.

“Get them nice and wet for me princess, or I can’t promise this is going to be pleasant.”

You did your best in sucking and using as much saliva to cover his fingers, and when Getou was satisfied, he pulled them out to stroke at his cock again. You watched as your shining fluids covered his dick, anticipating how he was going to fill you with that monstrosity.

“Lay down.” His voice was strained, clenching onto his cock while eyeing your pretty, inviting pussy that begged to be fucked.

Your back met the cool surface of the wooden desk, glancing at Getou who situated himself between your spread legs. He roughly grabbed onto both your thighs, pushing them to press against your chest until the heels of your feet touched his shoulders. He then took his cock, sliding it against the lips of your pussy, not yet entering, but teasing you. His hot length felt agonizing against your cunt, and you whined at the delicious friction.

“Hurry..” You rushed him, Getou’s slow movements were making you more impatient. He only tsked, shaking his head at you like you were a naughty child.

“Didn’t I teach you to be polite?” The annoying bastard still had it in him to wait, which made zero sense to you as his eyes were nearly feral staring down at you. You didn’t have the same self control though.

“Please! Please, just fuck me already..”

“As you wish.”

It wasn’t hard to convince him this time, and if Getou hadn’t started to press his tip into your entrance, you would’ve thought he enjoyed cockblocking himself. Your breath hitched as he slowly sunk in, having a little difficulty although you made sure to stretch yourself as thoroughly as possible.

“Holy shit, you are tight.”

He was surprisingly gentle, softly rocking into you a few times to fit the rest of his pulsing cock. Your hands scramble for something to grab on, but there is only paper surrounding the desk with some pencil holders.

“Hold on to my shoulders.”

You obeyed without hesitation, attempting to grab onto his broad shoulders, but a sudden hard thrust had you shrieking, latching onto the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. Getou hushed you, whispering that it was going to be okay and little apologies for what he did. There was a stinging pain but also a feeling of satisfaction after all you’ve done to reach this point. Your thighs trembled around his hips, and the overwhelming full feeling confirmed he was now completely sheathed inside. Getou’s hands grabbed onto your waist harshly, enough that you were sure it was going to leave marks the next day, and he grinds into you as you both consecutively moaned. He begins moving a little when your breathing steadies, making sure not to go too fast at first.

“Fuck.. you’re clenching me so well..it’s hard not to destroy you right now.”

You whimpered at his words, feeling Getou drag his cock in and out, brushing perfectly against your pussy walls. Soon enough, the pain had melted away into hot, burning pleasure, and you were unable to stop the tiny, slutty noises escaping your lips. That only seemed to encourage him to go faster, his hips slamming into your squelching cunt, producing slick that smeared on his pelvis. The sensation was mind-numbing and the downright dirty act had tears streaming down your face, feeling so guilty of what you were doing on Gojo’s desk, but so good you almost wish he was here to see you debase yourself as nothing more than a filthy whore.

“What are you thinking about, hm?” Getou asks without stopping, fucking you at a beyond leisurely pace.

You let a few more moans, unable to form a single coherent word, eyes glazed over and mind far gone. But to answer his question, you were thinking about nothing but dick. Dick that you had and dick that you wish you did. You hear Getou laugh, and one of his hands leaves your hips to fumble around in his back pockets. You didn’t know what he was searching for until he pulled out his cell phone, unlocking it with a quick swipe. You should’ve been embarrassed and even concerned, but you just didn’t care anymore. All that mattered was that he continued to fuck you with his thick cock.

“Last week. I heard..fuck, that you and Satoru went on a little movie date.”

You were confused, why was he bringing this up? It didn’t matter that Gojo just happened to invite you to the movies since he said he had extra tickets, nothing mattered when Getou was here and the one fucking your brains out.

“I was really upset you know, that I wasn’t invited.”

You babbled something in response about how it was just on a whim, and that it wasn’t a date.

“B-But.. It looks like this time..Satoru is the uninvited one.” Getou leaned his upper body over yours, unintentionally pushing his cock further in, to prop his phone up against a framed photo with three people, which you had learned from Gojo it was from his high school days.

“Ahn..!”

Getou’s eyes trail down on your face to shoot you a mischievous look, before gripping your hips again to begin to pull out. You had thought he would begin moving again, so it confused you to no end when you suddenly felt fully empty. You let out another noise in protest, about to question him, but you don’t get a chance as you are flipped over on the desk , having your chest pressed against the smooth wood and ass held up by Getou. Your eyes flicker forward, blinking towards how you were positioned aligned to the entrance of the office, in perfect sight to anyone that could walk in and see you getting railed from behind by your boss’s best friend. However, that wasn’t the only thing that caught your eye. Diagonal from where you were lying, you see Getou’s phone resting on the framed photo, with your messed up reflection staring right back.

“Y-You’re recor– A-ahn!”

Your voice cuts off as Getou sunk his cock back into your pussy, from this angle it hits so much deeper than before and so, so much more sensitive against that one spot. Your mouth falls open with an unexpected moan, your body frozen and trembling and utterly struck with a sensation that slapped all the thoughts out of your mind.

“Oh? Here?” Getou starts moving to confirm his thought, and he was right as the sounds you made pitched higher and higher, your arm failing back to try and grab at his hold on your waist. Your efforts were dismissed easily as one of his hands gripped yours, pinning it back on the table

“Nope, be good and look cute for the camera.” Getou began plummeting his cock harder through your hungry cunt, drawing wails from your reddened lips. The sound of skin slapping on skin, decorated by wet, slick noises was absolutely lewd and you were able to see how your face twisted in pleasure, adding onto the heat coiling in your tummy.

“S-Since I wasn’t invited before, I think we should just make our own movie..fuck–, and make Satoru watch alone this time..”

It took you a bit to catch up to what he was referring to, the thing you were talking about earlier, right..your ‘date’ with Gojo. The logical part of you was screaming no at the thought that Gojo could possibly see what you’ve done, but the you with pussy stuffed to the brim only clenched at Getou’s comment, getting him to hiss and thrust harder into your inviting warmth.

“Oh shit..you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that..fuck-” Contrary to his words, Getou continues fucking into you like a wild animal, too clouded by the feeling of your gummy walls enveloping his hard cock. You were perfect in his eyes, soft skin with curves in all the right places, sweet lips and an even sweeter cunt. You fit around him just the right amount to overwhelm your pretty little head while you try to fuck him into your sweet spot. It was so adorable how you didn’t realize what you were doing, only mindlessing chasing your own high looking all ditzy, with drool escaping the corner of your mouth following shameless gasps. You felt all tingly and hot, your nipples pressed on the desk adding extra friction with how hard Getou was rocking the furniture. You wanted to touch yourself so badly, to finally bring yourself over the edge, but you couldn’t move with his body weighing down on you. Getou could tell that you were about to cum by the way your pussy began squeezing down on his cock, attempting to milk his release as well.

“Don’t, not yet.” He grunted, and you cried out weakly in response, mewling as he gradually slowed down again. You felt more tears prick up at being denied, and you were fully prepared to beg as much as he wanted if only Getou would fuck you like you deserved. You were so patient and obedient, but you just couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Hey don’t cry–”

Two strong knocks came from the door.

Both of you consecutively paused, complete silence falling between your connected bodies. Fear douses your head in cold water and you say nothing, waiting for Getou to make the next move. You couldn’t see him, with his face cut off through the recording, but your eyes widen when you felt him eventually shift, twisting you around while you were still pierced on his cock. You bite back a moan when Getou’s palms slips under your ass and halts you off the desk, your legs instinctively wrapping over his hips and your arms circling around his neck.

“W-What are you doing?” You whispered.

He lets out a throaty laugh, proceeding to calmly walk to the door as the knocking gets louder, the person outside calling out.

“Gojo-san. I got the report.”

Recognition flashes in your head, that voice..

It was Nanami, the helpful blonde man that you’ve encountered several times when you got a little lost on campus. You panic when Getou continued carrying your practically naked self to the entrance, but your little fuss didn’t phase him, only stopping when you both were inches from the door.

The knocks resumed again with Nanami’s tone rising.

“I heard you inside. You’ve been asking for this, so don’t ignore me now.”

Nanami was so close, the door being the only barrier that protected your exposed tits and dripping cunt from his view. You wouldn’t know what to do if he came in and saw the indecency you were committing in a professional workplace.

Would he be disgusted?

Would his stoic persona finally break?

You were scared..but also dangerously aroused. Getou groans feeling you tighten around his cock, knowingly massaging your ass in his grip. He pinned your back against the door, not being subtle at all when a thud noise resulted in Nanami’s knocks seizing.

“Come. Back. Later.” Getou growled out under his breath, thrusting up into you as your head fell back, releasing a high whimper.

It was over. There’s no way Nanami wouldn’t be suspicious now, hearing a voice that clearly wasn’t Gojo’s. Your nails dug into Getou’s back, unable to hold back your little moans as he moved fast and harsh inside of you. He showed no sign of stopping or slowing down after holding back on you so many times, and you were able to feel deep within your stomach every time the head of his cock hit your best places. The amount of wetness and precum that you collectively gathered was gushing around where your pussy connected with him, obscene noises once again bringing a cherry flush to your ears.

“Ngh..h-he’s outsid-”

Getou was busy ramming into the delicious cavern of your cunt, ignoring your comment and how his junior was probably able to hear everything that was happening. He didn’t care, you belonged to him and Nanami can fuck off or bear witness to him fucking your stupid brains out. You were just too sweet, eagerly clamping down on him and offering your tight pussy to him for your first time. Him, and nobody else. Not Gojo, not some other unworthy guy, but him. And he was going to give you the good fucking you deserve after giving him all those looks the past few weeks you started working here.

Little gasps and stutters in your voice tells him that your orgasm was close, and fuck he needed to see you make a mess of yourself and have you sob pathetically around his cock as you do.

“Cmon baby, touch yourself for me.”

You felt so relieved, you reached a hand down before he changed his mind, shaky fingers gliding through your sensitive folds. You panted against Getou’s chest, feeling the tension in your stomach building with every thrust he sends deep within your pussy. The added stimulation from your fingers sent quivers over your lower half, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer. Clouded in pleasure, your sight was blurred by tears as you said something unintelligible to Getou about needing to cum and needing it badly. He chuckles, leaning forward to press a kiss along your jawline.

“Go ahead, be a good girl and cream on my cock.”

Getou’s hips speed up, and not even a second later, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you gasped, an intense wave of pure white washing over your twitching body. You whined, muttering Getou’s name in meaningless rambles as he continues fucking you through your high, feeling your slick gush down your pulsing cunt and escape every time he pulls back.

“Oh- fuck..you’re so fucking tight..” Getou’s thick length was quickly beginning to overwhelm your overstimulated pussy, and your noises of protest had his grip on your ass tightening.

“Hush..s-shit, just a little more..” His cock pounded impossibly harder, abusing your soft, plush walls to the point where you were wailing and scratching at his arms, trying to form a coherent sentence to tell him to slow down. Lucky for you, it wasn’t long until Getou’s head tucked into your neck as he released a low groan, filling your pussy with his hot cum. Warmth spread throughout your stomach and you sighed, rubbing your cheek against Getou’s. His movements were slowing down, but he made sure to fuck his spent into you nice and well, milking his cock for all its worth. You were trembling all over and way too tired to try and stop him, so you allowed him to handle you like a doll till he was satisfied. Your head was spinning, and whether it was the comfortable buzz or just pure exhaustion, you were ready to pass out in place. Getou eventually pulls out, making sure to support your hips and legs as he temporarily sets you on the floor. Your back leaned against the door as you blink tiredly at the ground, unaware of the mixed fluids escaping from the confines of your pussy. Rustling came from where Getou stood above you, he must've been fixing himself up, which made you realize he hasn’t actually taken any of his clothes off fully. Compared to you, he looked as put together as he was this morning, and you didn’t care to cover your body, only basking in this nice tingly feeling with your mouth slightly agape. Footsteps traveled across the room, and then Getou appeared in front of you kneeling, one hand holding some tissues and the other his phone.

“Hm..it’s a shame that we didn’t get everything on camera.” He mused as he took one of the tissues to wipe the remaining tears off your face. You scrunch your eyes and then yawn, to which Getou laughed, taking another tissue to clean between your thighs.

“Uhm..are you going to tell Gojo-san?” You voiced a concern that has been on your mind since the beginning. You didn’t know if he was being serious about showing the video to his best friend or if it was all just sex talk. Should you be concerned? Well.. it was a little late for that.

Getou’s hand brushed against your leg, now trying to rid the floor of any excess residue.

“How do I put this..he might already know.”

His statement didn't make any sense, how could Gojo know?

“Unless he actually isn’t here, but I’m pretty sure he never left campus. I can still feel his cursed energy present.”

You suddenly shot up straight in your sitting position, looking helplessly confused.

“How..? Even so, he isn’t here s-so..”

Getou shook his head, a guilty smile crossing his face briefly.

“Satoru sees everything, as ominous as that might sound. But maybe if he happened to be wearing his blindfold and shades at the same time then-”

The door supporting your back started jiggling just then, frightening you to scramble and fall forward into Getou, who caught you in his chest. Your eyes flicker to his in panic, whispering

“Did..Didn’t Nanami leave..?”

The voice that came from outside, however, was a much worse possibility than Nanami at the moment.

“Open the door Suguru.”

————————————————————————

AN: yes i will make a masterlist soon to organize my stuff.. but i am lazy

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #geto suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you

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sleepy-gee · 1 month

Text

🦋 desolation - avox!coryo au - snowjanus week day 2

🦋 day 2: canon divergence 🦋 “All snow melts under heat, dear boy. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now, hold still..”

🦋 trigger warnings/tags: gore, blood, dark fic, mutilation, starvation, dehumanization.. the whole nine. dunno what you'd call it but coryo is put into a market system and sold so warning for that too. vomiting.

🦋 a/n: this is for you, avox!coryo nation

“Tell me, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul hummed, running a gloved finger along the edge of her blade. Coriolanus’ mouth went dry. Any second now, that blade would silence him for eternity. “Was it worth it? Your little plan to save your songbird?”

Coriolanus didn’t answer yet, dropping his gaze to the marble floor of her lab. Highbottom’s taunts echoed in his head on repeat like a scratched record– “You hear that, boy? It’s the sound of snow falling..” He couldn’t have failed. Snow’s don’t fall. They pull through. Always have and always will. He bit his tongue to hold back some of the tears that threatened to slip. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry.

“I urge you to speak now, young man.” Dr. Gaul took a step towards him. “I fear you won’t have the chance to again for a very, very long time.”

“.. What do you want me to say?” He croaked. “Do you want me to beg? To plead for your forgiveness and mercy?” Coriolanus glanced up at her, gaze as venomous as the snakes she loved to toy with.

“If you did, I fear you’d make a fool of yourself.” She grabbed his chin harshly. “You knew the consequences and yet you still cheated. All for some girl you barely knew.”

“She wouldn’t have stood a chance if I didn’t..” Coriolanus stuttered, trying to pull away from her grasp. “It’s not right.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart now. It’s much too late for that, Mr. Snow… You say you won’t beg for mercy, but in a way, you are. A convict on trial, saying whatever he can to get himself out of the death penalty.” Dr. Gaul laughed, a horrid sound. “Predator turned prey.. Isn’t that funny? You climbed your way to the top of the food chain, only to get forced back down to the bottom of it.”

The tears in his eyes finally gave away. The taste of iron filled his mouth, no doubt from the abuse of his poor tongue. Sick as it was, he relished in it. Relished in feeling the weight of it in his mouth, every little thing he could taste in there. Death would’ve been better than this, he thought. But weren’t they the same thing? He’d be reduced to nothing. A hollow shell unable to speak or express himself. Trapped in silence forever. The fear he felt made it nearly impossible to breathe, too.

“Aw..” She wiped one of his tears away. Coriolanus pulled back like he had burned her. “All snow melts under heat, dear boy. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now, hold still..”

...

A cruel memory, one he tried to block out. Filled with panic and broken screams. Blood pouring out of his mouth onto his lap, a waterfall of consequence settling into a pool on the ground beneath him. He tried and tried to plead for help, begging for her to stop, but she never would. Sadism used to taste so sweet, Now it was cold and bitter. Served cold just like her revenge, she said. Revenge for what, he wanted to ask. For ruining her games? For giving her the show she wanted?

Was it all a mistake?

The Dean’s confrontation was playing on repeat in his head. If he had said something different, done something else..

“President Ravenstill has left your form of punishment up to me. I talked amongst my fellow colleagues and we believed that being sent to the districts as an anonymous, peacekeeping grunt might’ve been suitable.. But then an Avox walked in.. and I had another one of my brilliant ideas. I thought, if he’s anything like his father– Which he is– Then having him go to the districts would be just as bad as having him walk free.”

“Still..” He stammered. “Don’t you think that’s too far?”

“Like I said, anyone caught cheating will simply have no future at all. You made your bed, Coriolanus. Time to lie in it.. I think a good night's rest will do you some good. It’s the last you’ll be having for a while.”

Then, he was sent home to spread the news to his family. But the second he got home and saw the hopeful looks in his family’s eyes, the words got stuck in his throat, and all he could do was sob. They sent a van to take him to Dr. Gaul’s office before the sun was even up the next morning, leaving him with little to no time to say goodbye or get things in order. Somehow, he’d managed to fit in a little nap on the way there– It’s not like he could do anything.

His last (coherent) words, officially, were “Don’t fucking touch me-!”. At least that made him sound stronger than he actually words. He’d never live it down if he spent his last moments with the ability to speak sobbing and pleading.

After the ordeal, they left him for around ten minutes– Alone, bleeding out, but God did it feel like eternity. When they did return, they loosely patched him up and left him alone again. Coriolanus spent most of his ‘recovery’ period sleeping.. Because what else was there to do? When he wasn’t sleeping, he was staring at his mangled reflection in the little mirror one of Gaul’s assistants had left.

A week later, they tossed him out into the market. Coriolanus wasn't aware the Avox market could be so bustling, but it was.. And, God, was it miserable. Chained and pulled around like a circus animal, put on display.

The things people said made him sick.

"You sure are a pretty one.. But I'm afraid I'm out of room."

"Why is he marked up so high? I know he's a Snow, but geez.. 5k for an Avox is too much."

They talked about him like he was a fucking dog. A dog. He was a Snow, for fucks sake. A Snow! Scratch that, a real person. A person with emotions, thoughts, feelings..

He was sick to his stomach. This was the government he had advocated for?

...

Coriolanus stayed on the market for about a week or so (he couldn't tell. Time was a fucking blur) until someone finally decided to "buy" him. He was loaded into the back of another van and dumped into another basement.

This.. Is my new forever, I guess.

...

He'd fallen asleep again. What else was there to do? He was told he had two weeks to recover before they'd put him to work. At least they had a little humanity. He was the only Avox in the house too, apparently, so he knew he'd be overworked.

Oh well. Nothing I can do now.

Coriolanus was attempting to fall asleep for the millionth time when the door to his room opened, and a stream of light came pouring in..

Followed by a voice he thought he'd never hear again.

"Hey, Coryo. I brought you some soup.."

Sejanus fucking Plinth.

Coriolanus sits up quickly, blinking away the tears. The Plinths are the ones that bought him?!

"Take it easy.." Sejanus sat next to him, holding a glass bowl filled with delicious smelling soup in his hands. "I know you're probably confused.. And scared. I wouldn't blame you."

What the fuck am I supposed to do? Coriolanus wanted to say. He felt his mouth move out of habit. But there was no tongue to move.

"We, uh.. Caught word of what happened. So I begged my parents to buy you.. I think it made my Pa happy, letting him spend some of his money on me." Sejanus stirred the soup with a spoon. "I couldn't risk anything happening to you."

Coriolanus gave him a small hum of acknowledgement. Great. He's going to live out the rest of his days as a servant to the Plinth family? District scum? Ugh.

"Pa put me in charge of taking care of you, so.. We'll be spending a lot of time together, eh?" Sejanus tried to cheer him up with a smile. Stupid boy. The smile faded. "I.. Got you some soup? I dunno how well you can handle food right now, but I didn't want you to go hungry.. You look like you need it."

Sejanus held up the spoon to him like he was a toddler. This is what I've been reduced to. Hesitantly, he opened his mouth and let the soup pass. The vibrant taste he was expecting- Courtesy of Ma Plinth- was let down by the taste of nothing. That's odd. Ma's creations are normally delicious–

... Oh.

Another thing. He'd never taste again.

Coriolanus swallowed the soup awkwardly, grimacing. It hurt, but it was better than nothing.

"There you go.." Sejanus hummed, continuing to feed him. "I'll get you as good as new in no time.."

He finished the bowl rather quickly, finding himself disappointed when Sejanus set it to the side. Shouldn't there be more? He's barely had anything in weeks. Refeeding syndrome is a very real thing, but he's gone off of less for longer and eaten more right after.

Sejanus placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're safe now. You're troubles are over, Coryo. I'm gonna make sure of that."

Coriolanus glared at him. You're wrong. They've just begun.

taglist: @officialelioperlman @on-plvto @runningfrom2am @theirgayyourhonour

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosbas #thg #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #sejanus plinth #snowjanus #coriolanus x sejanus #sleepysnowjanusweek #avox au #avox!coryo #dark fic #whump #dead dove do not eat

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ghost-bxrd · 4 months

Note

Okay so I know this wasn’t the intention, but I read the most recent part of Owl Song and now I can’t stop thinking about Ivy, Jason, and Dick.

Like, in canon she fought both of them as Robin (I think??? I’m pretty sure she was around for Dick’s Robin) and she’s one of the better Rogues in terms of motive and morals. She probably cared for both of them somewhat, so how do you think she (and the other semi-decent rogues) took it when Jason died?

Ah I see how it is, we’re unpacking the good questions now!!!

So at first Ivy probably didn’t notice. Let’s be real, she’s got better things to do then play “keeping up with the batfamily”, and yeah, sure, some of her plants have been getting agitated the more days went by without sightings of either Robin or his loyal shadow (either Batman or Talon/Nightwing), but eh, maybe they’re on vacation or something.

But then Batman is back on the streets and it’s BadTM. Even simple thugs need to be hospitalized, more than one comes close to actually dying (one even flatlines for a moment) and Ivy gets suspicious. Not enough to raise any alarms just yet, still, odd. And still no sight of Robin anywhere.

And then the Joker keeps being found. All over Gotham. Her plants her agitated, they keep whispering about the child-from-the-clocktower and the-one-who-is-cold. And even Ivy can’t keep turning a blind eye.

At first she checks in with Harley, but her girlfriend she doesn’t have any insight either having just returned from a mission with the Birds of Prey (timeline? What timeline). So, dead end. And Crane is a no-go because the Bat hospitalized him with way too many broken bones just the other day.

Two-face it is, but Harvey (both sides of him) are equally as disturbed by the Bat’s sudden volatility as Ivy and he is now on board with trying to find out just what made the Bat snap.

(At this point she’s having a veeery bad feeling about this. Especially because even weeks later Robin is still suspiciously absent from the streets, and there are only whispers of Talon/Nightwing and even her plants can’t seem to pin down either of them.)

Next up is the Riddler, who is already neck-deep into investigation (because how dare Batman not appreciate all his carefully laid riddles and instead punch in faces of low time criminals! And also he may be a teeny-tiny bit worried about the sassy sidekick but SUE him, the kid grows on you like a particularly stubborn case of the pocks ok!?) and immediately agrees to a temporary ceasefire.

So now we have part of the rogue gallery joining forces to find out just wtf is going on, and their next bet is the elusive Catwoman.

And let’s say Selina doesn’t know who Batman is but she’s got soft spot for the big burry anyway so she’s CONCERNED ok? It doesn’t take much persuasion to join forces with the rest of the rag-tag group of high profile rogues to figure this out, and her next proposition is this: grill the Penguin for information.

Oswald Cobblepot is SO not prepared for the joint forces of Catwoman, Two-Face, Riddler, Harley, and Ivy and before long he’s telling them what little he knows about the Joker and his excursion to Ethiopia.

And they all just kinda— freeze. Because— what? No, Robin can’t be dead. Robin is magic. That spunky little kid who’d throw pebbles at Riddler, the one who’d always try to pick-pocket Catwoman, the one urging Harley to leave-the-Joker-he’s-an-ass, the one who always drives Harvey insane with his prime numbers, the one who’d stalked all the way into Robinson park just to ask Ivy how to save the little potted plant he’d been gifted—-

No, no he can’t be dead… right?

But he is. And the talon who’d always kept him safe? That one is gone, too. Nobody knows where he went, but Batman is unspooling, and unspooling fast. And the rogues… well, for once they keep quiet. they don’t give Batman any additional grief (god knows he’s got enough) and instead now make it a point to keep kids out of their business in silent solidarity.

From that day forward any and all people who try to associate themselves with the Joker get taken down by them with extreme prejudice. You think Batman is bad? Try spouting some Joker loving bullshit in front of Ivy. She doesn’t even have to ask her plants to gut you and hang you from the carousel at amusement mile like a Christmas ornament. And god forbid you say anything negative about Robin.

#listening to Batman audio adventures really made me appreciate Harvey #and also Catwoman #and also riddler he’s hilarious #but I have a SOFT SPOT for Ivy #always #the rogues loved Robin in their own way #at least some of them #they also hated his guts #but still #that was THEIR Robin #how dare joker take him away #and where is the talon?#owl song #ghost talks #jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #bruce wayne #robin

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weirdthinkingdragon · 9 months

Text

Tails Of Embrace (Fic)

half dragon Dan Heng X reader X half dragon Zhongli

Sorry, had female reader in mind while letting the idea flow through me. If anyone wants, they can make a male version or gn version their way. Be sure to tag me. I’d love to see your take on it!

Not proofread

Warnings: a bit of talk of different dragon-like anatomies, oral (reader receive), non-canon biology of both characters, praise, some swearing, growling, double vaginal, pet name “my dear”, multiple orgasms, fingering, overstimulation, tail fucked, biting, marking, no protection

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

The relationship somehow starting was odd enough. But yet it’s a thing you, Zhongli, and Dan Heng wouldn’t have any other way.

Over time, them having their tails around you started to quickly become even more common than how often Asta impulsively buys something online.

Their tails are constantly within your proximity if they can’t be on or around you for one reason or another. They’re rather clingy and Zhongli has a bit of a violent streak when several things have tried to cause you harm in the past before. Oddly enough it’s Dan Heng that gets him back to himself enough to get restraint over his ways again. They seem especially bad the past month or so. The others are getting used to it by then and just letting it happen (Himeko finds it rather amusing/entertaining). Welt doesn’t seem to show any problem with it. March finds it extremely cute and has a possibly concerning amount of pictures of you three falling asleep on the couch together stored in her camera.

Dan Heng and Zhongli also almost always seem to have a crazy amount of understanding and respect between each other and know how to take turns in a way. One time while you’re all sitting down, Zhongli’s tail will be wrapped around your torso while Dan Heng settles with wrapping his tail around one of your legs, and the next time they switch.

It took some time to start sleeping together, but it grew to be sort of the same way. You try to not think back to how awkward it was at the beginning. Thankfully Zhongli is good at smoothing things over with how many years os types of experience in talking he’s had on his world. The only difference is one gets to keep their tail between your thighs for the time.

This time it was Zhongli. Lying down on the bigger bed Asta more than willingly bought for you three has made things a lot more comfortable. Before it was just Dan Heng’s little space area on the floor, but he finally accepted to come to the room with you and Zhongli. Himeko couldn’t have been happier about that day.

It’s been about half a year of being together. Zhongli knew what was starting to happen to him a week ago, but has somehow forgotten to ever bring it up. He had hoped leaving Teyvat would be what would cancel out his dragon ways, but being around you and Dan Heng made him realize especially now that his idea was fruitless.

The deep burning desire was just way too hard to shove away no matter how hard he tried and wanted to not do so, especially if you and Dan Heng aren’t ready yet.

But he just… he can’t help it or hold it any longer. Your now heightened smells to him mixed all together are driving him absolutely mad.

He still tries to hold himself together while you and Dan Heng enjoy the physical contact with each other and him yet again.

You and him laying on your right sides while Zhongli is on his left, facing you. Dan Heng laying behind you with his incredibly long tail wrapped a few times around your left leg by your ankle. He teasingly brushes the tip of his tail to tickle your leg from time to time.

Zhongli doesn’t even notice he starts doing it, but his tail between your legs starts to rub at your pussy, earning a surprised squeak from you louder than the one that comes out with Dan Heng suddenly brushing his tail tip against your leg.

“What was that sound for? I didn’t tickle your leg this time.” His voice asks from behind. It is still so rather monotone that if you didn’t know him better you’d probably think he wasn’t curious, yet you could tell he was.

“Zhongli! What was that for?”

It was only then that he noticed was his tail was doing.

“Ah, well… I was hoping that leaving Teyvat would help stop what is happening now, but I suppose one’s nature is going to follow them wherever they go.” He takes his tail out from between your legs, though he really doesn’t want to. The warmth feels so incredibly good. Being so close just makes him want to indulge in even closer proximity.

“It’s with me being a dragon from my world, essentially. To put it simply, I’m going into a heat.”

Your mind stalls when taking in that information. It’s something you never really thought about until now.

“Your kind has those in your world?” Dan Heng asks.

“Yours don’t?” The slight change in his tone made it known he was quite curious about the other world’s different customs.

“Not really. A rare few seem to, but most don’t. At least not anymore. It’s something that changed over a very long period of time.”

“Oh?” He involuntarily rubs his tail between your legs again. “It seems we’ve much to know of each other as of yet then.”

His tail rubbing you felt good. Possibly too good. You hold in a groan that tries to slip out.

Upon looking at Zhongli now, he has a very strong blush on his face. He’s so flushed he almost looks drunk. In a way, he is. He’s solely drunk on you even though almost nothing has happened yet.

You’ve thought about the more intimate things that might come later in the relationship with the two of them, but you weren’t expecting quite this soon. Your mind starts to wander and run wild with the thoughts of what might happen soon. You’re more than ready and want to further the relationship of you three, but are unsure of Dan Heng’s thoughts on it.

Little do you know that now Dan Heng knows what Zhongli is going through, it’s also starting to affect him with the idea of mating you. To make you fully and truly only theirs to mark and give insurmountable pleasure.

Also, with how close you and Dan Heng are, he can also slightly feel Zhongli’s tail rubbing on his dick.

Dan Heng wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer, trapping the tip of Zhongli’s tail between your ass and his slightly starting to bulge dick.

It was like a silent agreement between the three of you that you all want to go on.

Dan Heng decides to check to make sure the door to the room is locked. The last thing needed is someone trying to come in for one reason or another. He gets up and goes to check the door while you and Zhongli sit up. You grab Zhongli’s tail and start slowly yet gently rubbing your hands up and down the sides of it, making it twitch in your hold and eliciting a deep groan to come out of his throat. That groan alone set you and Dan Heng off more.

He comes back and sits behind you again, pulling you to sit up with him, which makes Zhongli sit up as well.

Zhongli kneels and reaches for your shorts. Before you can even blink, he temporarily loses control and rips your shorts and underwear off in one go with his hands that are growing sharper into much more like claws.

It makes you let out a sound of surprise.

Zhongli did truly feel a bit bad if he scared you. “A-ah, I do apologize. I seem to have gotten a bit… carried away. It’s so hard to control myself around you, especially right now.” He glances down at your pussy, knowing what he strongly wants to do before anything else. Taste you. Really taste you. Smell you. Make it feel like there’s no escape from your scent. Not like he’d ever want to be away from it in the first place.

His pupils turn more into slits, and his face changes to show an extreme amount of lust and sheer need. His eyes almost look like they change to a faintly glowing liquid gold.

The lustful expression is radiating so strongly that you can feel his intentions even without thinking about it.

He lowers himself to his stomach to be at eye level with the most sacred part of you. Who is he kidding? Every single minute detail about you is sacred to him and Dan Heng as well. He grabs your thighs and places your legs over his shoulders, surrounding himself with you. The burning desire searing through him already becoming insanely uncomfortable.

Just looking at your unmarked thighs has his mind going absolutely wild thinking of leaving his bite marks all over. He caves and does start biting your thighs. The teeth marks left on your thighs right by your pussy makes him let out a pleased hiss and a small grin on his face.

Dan Heng cages the rest of you with his legs. He pulls your sleep shirt up to take it off. You lift your arms with no objections.

However, once the shirt is off, you try to cover yourself feeling a bit embarrassed.

Neither of them was having that. Dan Hang makes your arms go down and wraps his tail around your stomach, keeping your hands trapped as well. Knowing you can’t move your arms turns you on more than you think it should.

Zhongli takes a deep breath in. “Fuck- It’s hard to hold back. I can’t. I need to taste you, my dear.” And with that, his more slender tongue slips through your folds without much resistance.

His deep growl of approval of your taste sends a shiver down your spine. He pushes rather firmly on your clit before going down and pushing to move around your G-spot before coming back out and rubbing your clit rather firmly again. Your body tries to jerk, but it has nowhere to move with a tail being snugly wrapped around you, your legs being over shoulders, and your thighs being carefully held by clawed hands.

The only thing you can do is grab his horns that were within reach of your small remaining window of possible movement. You clench your hands around his horns tightly.

Zhongli lets out a chuckle. "If we knew you had such an obsession with our horns, we would have more than gladly allowed you to touch them, you know?” He teases.

Dan Heng gently grabs your head to turn towards him a bit more and kisses you deeply, having his hands wander from the top of your shoulders towards your chest, cupping them then running his thumbs over your nipples, turning it into rubbing them. He asks for entrance of your mouth by running his tongue over your lips. You gladly allow him access.

He slips his tongue in and swallows every moan you let out, enjoying your muffled sound and vibrations of your own mouth on his.

You can feel Dan Heng’s dick quite quickly bulging more and pressing more on your ass with each minute that ticks by, but that gets harder to focus on as the pleasure becomes overbearing and the only possible thing you can think about. That coil is becoming close to coming undone and your body heating up exponentially.

Dan Heng knows you’re close as your body tries to jerk more harshly than before. He grabs your nipples between his fingers and pinches them rather harshly, bringing that wave of pleasure to burst and come crashing down.

You cum hard all over Zhongli’s face. It was the most intense orgasm by far that you’ve ever had in your life.

Zhongli lets out another deep growl of approval feeling your juices get all over his face. Your scent being all around him now makes him want to fuck you so badly. His pants are super tight and very uncomfortable. Probably also soaked with a lot of precum. He has to hold himself back from taking you right there though. You’re not quite ready yet. Plus, he also wants something else in you to help stretch your pussy for him since he can’t exactly finger you right now. His tail tip flicks in anticipation.

He locks eyes with Dan Heng. “Would you mind helping me prepare her?”

Dan Heng doesn’t have to be asked twice. He gives a final grope to your left breast and slowly trails his hand down to your stomach, to slowly down in front of your pussy. Giving Zhongli a little anticipating show on the way.

He watches with great interest as Dan Heng’s two fingers slowly go into you, splitting open and moving around to let out loud wet squelches that are like music to his ears.

Dan Heng slowly pushes them inside you up to his knuckles, opening his fingers to show deeper inside you as well as stretch you a bit, then closes his fingers and twists them to your g-spot.

He hungrily watches Dan Heng repeat his movements and gets to watch your facial expressions this time every time his hand moves in a way you like.

Dan Heng eventually adds a third finger, making you arch your back into his hand.

He doesn’t quite let you reach your peak into another orgasm, making you miss feeling something in you immediately when he pulls out his fingers. It was at that moment you knew what you wanted.

They wait for a moment to let your body calm down a bit from you looking like there’s something you want to say.

You manage to collect your thoughts. “I… I want both of you at once.”

Zhongli and Dan Heng share a concerned look with each other before looking back at you. “Are you sure?” Zhongli asks.

You nod. You do desperately want both no matter what. They’re your everything. And neither deserves to be left out.

There’s a slick mess all over your lower body, and it just keeps coming out. Zhongli moves his tail to your opening and swipes up some of your juices before pushing a bit inside. The feel of his tail is a bit strange, but not unpleasant. The stretch of the rest of it makes you focus more on that though.

Zhongli cups your face and leans in to kiss you deeply. And just like Dan Heng, you gladly give him access. He’s almost panting with how hard he’s restraining himself, but he knows waiting to the end will be the highest reward.

Dan Heng goes back to playing with your nipples and leans down to nibble on your neck. His hot, uneven breath shows how needy he’s getting as well. He also can’t hold it any longer and brings the tip of his tail down to be with Zhongli’s. He wraps his with Zhongli’s making them both shiver and pushing his inside to join Zhongli’s.

Two tails being inside you give a bit of an uncomfortable stretch. You all three moan. Them from how tightly your pussy is clenching their tails and how warm you are, and you with how full their tails alone are making you feel.

They slowly move around to fully stretch you as much as possible. Your pussy tightening around them making it rather difficult.

Dan Heng goes right by your ear. “It’s alright. Just- ngh. Just let go.”

“You’re doing a fantastic job so far with us. You feel phenomenal, my -ngh, my dear.”

They do a few light thrusts from time to time and still try to move around a bit inside you. However, their last remaining patience is waning very quickly. They strongly just want to be in you, to embrace you at the same time.

Dan Heng reaches down and rubs your clit harshly until another orgasm is ripped out of you, greatly tightening around their tails.

They let you catch your breath again for a moment and think you’re finally ready and slowly pull their soaked tail tips out.

Dan Heng finally lets you out of the rest of his tail and takes off his clothes. So does Zhongli. Being able to see their fully naked bodies for the first time sends you into an overdrive of need you didn’t even know you had.

They are no better as they fully get to stare at you as well. It doesn’t take long though as Zhongli pulls you to stand up and hoists you to wrap your legs around his waist. You feel his large dick right against your pussy.

Zhongli is in absolute bliss being able to feel only your full skin and body heat against his. “You ready for us, dear?” He asks still a bit out of breath.

You nod and that’s all he needed before he couldn’t wait any longer and slowly started to press his dick against your pussy until it easily went in. He kept pushing in until his dick was fully sheathed and let out another very satisfied sound of what somehow sounded like a mix of a hiss and a moan.

One dick alone made you feel rather filled. But that’s not what you or they want. You want to be fully filled. And they want what you want.

Dan Heng comes behind you and helps you stay on Zhongli by giving a bit of back support. His dick also near your entrance. He grabs your hips and slowly presses his in for you to slightly adjust.

They both suck in a breath through their clenched teeth at how tight you are with the both of them and how they feel being pressed against each other inside.

It’s a bit more unbearable than you thought it would be, and they both can sense your discomfort. Even after they stretched you out with their tails, that was nothing in comparison with their dicks. It honestly hurt quite a bit never having double so large in your pussy.

Zhongli brings up one of his hands to your face and brings his forehead to lightly press against yours. You can feel his horns press against your head. He stays like that to try to comfort you.

“It’s okay, we won’t move until you tell us. Just try to ease your body. We’ll take care of the rest.” He kisses the left side of your neck.

It does take a little bit, but the pain and the discomfort soon becomes nothing but pleasure and a delightful fullness.

You grab onto Zhongli’s horns again.

Zhongli would gladly admit it if asked, but he absolutely loves you grabbing on his horns. Only you though. No one else ever can, except Dan Heng. But he doesn't think Dan Heng would unless asked. “Can we take that as the go-ahead?”

You let out a nod. “Y-yeah.”

They quickly set a rather fast pace. Zhongli more so for finally being able to give in to his heat. Almost at a brutal pace, but neither you nor Dan Heng mind it.

Dan Heng feels so good that instinctively his much longer tail wraps around you and Zhongli, sandwiching the three of you closer into the same movements.

Your pussy is never left empty as one pulls out to thrust back in, the other is already in to pull out and thrust again.

Their cocks rubbing against each other making it feel even better in your already tight pussy to you and to them.

Dan Heng quickens his pace not too long after to partially match Zhongli’s as well. His tail tightens around you and Zhongli a bit more, making your chest rub against Zhongli’s with every thrust, making him go even deeper into his heat craze.

Zhongli can feel himself getting close fast. Dan Heng and your’s moans and sounds, the wet squelching of your pussy with both of them, and both of your skin against his is driving him mad to breaking point.

He leans down and sinks his teeth into the right side of your neck and lets out a muffled roar as he cums. His cum almost seems endless as it just keeps flooding into you. Much of it falling to the floor. His hips jolt with every rub of Dan Heng’s dick rubbing against his, but he refuses to pull out though his dick is now sensitive.

The extra warmth and lubricant of Zhongli’s cum brings Dan Heng to his end sooner than later. He’s getting really close so he brings his hand down to your clit yet again and rubs rough circles.

Your hips buck greatly too, clit still sensitive from the previous orgasm and clit rubbing.

That coil unravels and yet another earth-shattering orgasm is ripped out of you. This one is even more powerful than the others.

You cumming and clenching around the two of them makes Dan Heng cum as well with a loud moan that he managed to stop by biting the other side of your neck.

The three of you stay in place to catch your breaths.

Dan Heng can’t remember ever feeling this way. He’s glad that this won’t be a one-time thing.

Just looking at you and Dan Heng this way was making his dick hard again. He hopes you and Dan Heng can handle a few more rounds. It will take more than that one time for his heat to go away.

“After you both rest a bit… ready for another round?”

You and Dan Heng can feel him hardening again.

It’s going to be a long night apparently.

Well, heats sure are fun.

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

An- A second fic of Zhongli giving oral to reader. I am not sorry >:-) I also tried my best. Idk if I’m very good at NSFW yet lol. Sorry if the view thing was a bit confusing, still trying to figure out writing things not in first person pov.

tags: @satosugumyfuckingbeloveds

@iruiji

@esthelily

#genshin #x reader #genshin impact #zhongli genshin x reader #dragon zhongli x reader #dragon zhongli #x you #dragon dan heng x reader #dragon dan heng #dan heng #star rail x reader #honkai star rail #inbibitor lunae #dan heng bibitor lunae

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ghostsvacuumcleaner · 10 months

Text

Shades of Red - Chapter II | 4k

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three ao3 | masterlist ✦ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x civilian f! reader ✦ Summary: The sole survivor of a terrorist attack that killed over a hundred. The soldier responsible for saving her. He wants to help you, but his own trauma make him withdraw when he wants to get closer and intoxicate when he wants to remedy. He kisses your scars and hopes you’ll runaway. He wants you to run away. But you won’t. ✦ TW: NSFW, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, canon typical violence, mentions of abuse and trauma/PTSD, bit of gore, mental illness mentions, slowburn;

✦ Chapter TW: slightly obsessive behavior hehe.., just a hint yet; mentions of trauma and violence

A/N: Dropping chapter two because I'm excited to start the real deal of this story! Also, chapter three might take a little while to come out cause I'm working on a request I received; hope y'all enjoy! If anyone's interested in getting into a tagslist just lemme know!

Chapter 02 - Survivor

The hospital room you were in was pleasantly cozy. A large bed in the center, a considerably large television right in front of it and the big window to the left, whose blinds were closed for the time being. There were a few empty chairs next to the bed - you were sure that at some point in the last hours, someone was sitting there, as there was a small vase of flowers resting on one of the chairs. Although you could not see the world out there, you knew it was raining by the sound of the raindrops hitting the window; the sound echoed through your ears in an almost hypnotic intonation as you dissociated.

Your daydreaming was abruptly cut off when someone opened the door to your room. A lady, a nurse, whose name tag said Doris. You shook your head and quickly looked in her direction, your eyes no longer as confusing as before, but equally expressive.

“You’re awake, finally.” She pointed, as she approached her bed with some caution. “You’ve been sleeping for at least fifteen hours since you came here. I was starting to worry,” she said, sounding somewhat caring.

You raised your eyebrows briefly.

“Fifteen hours? Fuck my life…” You whispered, and her face turned into a little grimace in response.

“Language, lady.” she joked, as her hands caringly wrapped your nearest arm and began to remove the tapes that covered your venous access. “How are you feeling?” She asked in a murmur. “I don’t expect you to say ‘well,’ for God’s sake.” she pleaded.

“Well, I’m not feeling any pain at least.” you said. For the first time in those twenty-four hours in which you were silent, your mouth bitter in the metallic taste of blood and the horrible feeling of a cake in your throat, you began to speak. There was still a lot you wish you could say, but felt like you might never get to do it. You could never take the weight you felt on your back, the unsaid words, the pain that grew restless in your mind.

“That 's good. Means the medication is working; you hurt yourself pretty bad let me say,” she commented, still trying to sound as caring as possible. The care that emanated from her made you feel a little better, you had to admit. “but you will be fine. Can you move your leg?” She finally asked, finishing by skillfully exchanging your access without causing further pain.

You looked into your legs, and felt that bitter taste invading your mouth again. Fuck. You didn’t stop to think about it: that wound on your leg, previously partially buried by concrete, was well, very extensive.

After breathing deeply, you concentrated your energies into the hurt leg. Your face shrugged in a strenuous expression, you were giving your best; your leg began to tremble and the rest of your body too, by the effort. It was as if that concrete block was still there, preventing its movement, causing you to suffer in stuckness.

“It’s okay, you can stop now.” she said, but you were negative and shaken your head with all the strength you could, small tears forming on your red face as you tried to move.

“No. I can do it.” you grumbled between your teeths and closed your eyes.

“Dear, no-” she tried to say, but nothing seemed to be able to change your mind right now.

A little move was all you got, and then the relief. Your breath accelerated, exasperated and relieved by victory, but still concerned by the fact that all you could achieve was almost equivalent to a spasm. Doris sighed.

“Why can’t I move straight?” You asked, your eyes ran into hers with some despair and impatience. "Will I lose my leg’s movements? Will I need to amputate?” You asked anxiously.

“God, girl. No!” She assured you, striking with her head and placing a new tape on your arm. Doris then walked to the end of your bed. “No one will amputate anything. Just see, well,” she started, and pulled the blankets that covered you from the waist down.

Your expression relaxed, perplexed as you looked at the scarring on your leg. Almost like a crack, in your thigh — it started near your hip, and went up to almost half your thigh in a diagonal angle. It was a red, ugly wound, a crack in your now imperfected shell. It was sewn with the help of so many stitches that you could barely count. “you hit a nerve. It didn’t break, of course, or could barely move this leg, but it hurt and badly. It will take some time for you to recover from it. But you will.” she said.

“It’s horrible,” you whispered, your eyebrows scratched in a sad expression. “I’m horrible.”

Doris looked at you, to the tears that formed in your tired eyes. Her lips were compressed in a line.

“Oh, dear... You’d never be awful, don’t say that,” she whispered. “A scar won’t make you any less beautiful. Got it? It’s your survival mark.” she said, trying to encourage you a little.

You wanted to curse her. You felt angry at the kindness she offered you, for trying to make everything seem less heavy than it really was, but it didn’t seem fair. You knew that this should be some reaction of your mind poisoned by the depression you felt now.

It would not be fair to discount your frustrations on the only person who had offered you some comfort so far, would it?

No.

Your face formed a smile so weak that maybe it only made her more worried than she was already, but that was all you could do for now. Doris covered you again, fitting the blankets around your body in a very comfortable way.

“I’ll bring your lunch. You’ll need to eat enough to get some energy for your recovery now.” she commented quietly by changing the IV from the support over you. Your eyes followed the whole process attentively.

Although you were grateful for the treatment you were receiving from the hospital, there was only one thing surrounding your mind. The Ghost.

The man in the skull mask who had saved your life. He was nowhere to be seen, you knew that you might possibly never see him again, but the idea that you didn’t even have time to thank him correctly tormented your mind. He was in your dreams while you were unconscious, standing there looking at you, glaring at you with those dark eyes of his. The curiosity of what was hidden behind the mask was hitting you hard this time, the need to see something human in him; the way his eyes seemed to present him as nothing but a machine. He seemed unbeatable, but when he took you in his arms, gently as he could be, like he was holding porcelain - you could only see a human being. And you wanted to see it, you craved for confirmation, that there was a human beneath the mask and that this human was just the way you pictured him to be. Or perhaps the complete opposite. You liked surprises, and fairly - you just wanted to see him.

“Where are the soldiers? You know, those who took me out of the building.” You curiously asked, cleaning your throat. The nurse's eyes wandered around the room in search of the small window that turned out to the hallway, she could not see anyone there, a confirmation that they might have been there before but not anymore at the moment. “I didn’t have time to thank him.” you whispered.

“Ah yes. Of course. Captain Price said he would call you when you were feeling a little better. Do you want me to give them a call?” Doris asked kindly.

“Yes, please,” you agreed.

━ ⟡ ━

Soap was watching the news on TV in the town hall of the headquarters. His eyes were attentive, his ears well opened; he heard the television reciting for the thirteenth time that day those words that echoed in his mind, "hundred and two dead." The news anchor was saying something about the intelligence’s inability to detect the terrorist threat before the bombing occurred. Massive criticism of the military staff responsible for national security; people were in panic. How would you feel safe after that?

After the 141 left the building back to the headquarters, the British intelligence team searched the ruins of the disaster looking for any indication of association of some terrorist group known to the incident. At first, nothing. Bombers usually leave no traces but a blast of blood and human flesh everywhere.

But then, an agent left the building with a piece of semi-destructed cloth in his hands. It was almost incomprehensible but soon they discovered a symbol in it. And to the most absolute disappointment of all, no soul even recognized the symbol in question. A new terrorist group.

Fuck.

While the population was hiding in fear, the press was rendering a disgrace to society and introducing even more chaos by spreading information that should be confidential. Soap was too distracted with their babbling to even listen to Price and Ghost’s conversation in the background.

“She will need physiotherapy, and a good time to recover.” said the captain, releasing some smoke from his cigarette into the air. “She apparently suffered a nerve injury.”

Ghost had his arms crossed, resting on the wall behind himself, facing Price. His eyes were fixed on the ground, as if he was thinking of something.

“I can imagine.” he whispered, with a head nod. “I hope it goes well. What these guys did there...” he closed his eyes and snorted, seeming nervous.

“Yeah... The press won’t give anyone no peace now. I get nervous just to think.” he grumbled as he threw his cigarette butt into the ashes. Ghost only shook his head negatively, in disapproval; in accordance with the captain’s speech.

The silence that followed Price’s last words did not last more than five seconds before he spoke again.

“She asked about you.” he said, raising his eyes to Ghost. He was looking back at him this time. It was as if his words had caught his attention now. “Said she wanted to thank you personally.”

“She doesn’t need to. I just did my job.” he argued, pulling his back off the wall and pulling one of the available chairs around. As he sat down, he grabbed a piece of a disassembled rifle that rested on the table, and went on with his work to clean it.

“I know that, but work sometimes involves accepting a bit of gratitude from other people for what you did for them, Riley. In this situation specifically.” Price raised his eyebrows, and watched the gun as Ghost cleaned it, his concentration quickly diverted from the conversation to the work he was doing. “You should go see her.”

“With all due respect, captain, I think the job of talking to the victims is anyone else's but mine.” he replied almost instantly.

“Maybe, maybe. But she wants to talk to you.” Price insisted.

Ghost released an annoyed, almost annoyed breath.

“She doesn’t have to thank me. I know she’s grateful,” he tried to argue again, but the captain seemed irreducible for the moment. “Bloody hell, Price, hire a psychologist for once. She needs help, not to talk to me.” he continued, receiving nothing but silence in response.

“She wants you.” Price said, simply, unfazed by his upset behavior.

Ghost immediately stopped what he was doing and left the gun aside, the hand

supported on his knee, once again an uncomfortable breathing leaving his nostrils in a surely irritated mood now.

They would not understand. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you; there would be no reason for it, no. Ghost didn’t want to see you again. He followed the whole moment the ambulance left you in the hospital along with the rest of his crew, was informed of your situation, and like all other soldiers, he was discharged after that.

His job was to rescue the victims who survived the attack. Not to talk to a victim, sketch some sort of feeling – even if it is false. He would need to say something, comfort you, or at least try to look positive. He would have to face the idea that getting in touch with your trauma could remind him some more of himself, could bring back past memories he wanted to bury. There was no good in it, no. He wasn’t a therapist, wasn’t built for it.

Although he wanted to, he couldn’t feel compassion for you. He couldn’t feel sorry – He thought it was an extremely illegitimating, invalid feeling. Affirming that someone was worthy of pity was almost like treating someone like garbage, no; he would rather die than have others pitying him, why would it be different with the people around him? He wasn’t the right person for that.

As if the universe laughed at his face, the moment the conversation between the two became silent and he raised his eyes to the television, the image of the building's debris was replaced by one of the only survivor of the attack; a recent photo you had taken in London, two months ago. You were smiling, you could still do that at that time. The screen displayed your name, while the reporter was now talking about you.

“It’s her; poor girl.” Soap said, turning a little to observe them, and turned up the volume. The news said something about your success in keeping yourself alive: you were treated as a great achievement, called a ‘miracle girl'; they were talking about you as a poor little girl, about how clever you were, in college studying to become a prestigious doctor. Ghost squeezed his jaw, his teeth gritted in a bitter taste inside his mouth. There was no miracle in what happened to you.

You were lucky. You were in the right place, at the right time.

Two hundred people did not have the same luck.

A hundred and two people, men, women and children, were now dead. You had eternal marks engraved on your skin and soul. A miracle? He felt offended as if he were with himself — as if they were calling him a miracle for having survived all the painful events he had experienced so far.

“How dare they say this kind of thing?” he grumbled lowly. The other two shrugged their heads in denial, in disagreement.

“Fucking vultures.” it was Price’s turn to complain.

━ ⟡ ━

You had turned off the TV the moment you heard your own name. There was no reason you’d want to know, to to hear what they had to say about you. You didn’t want to hear them treat you as a mere victim of an incident, acting as if that disaster was all about you that mattered. You hated the way everything seemed to be reduced to that now: the attack.

The survivor. The only survivor. Your name didn’t matter anymore – you had become a martyr, and everyone treated you with caution, as if you were made of glass, as though it was impossible to get close to you without the risk of breaking it.

Since the silence established itself in the environment when you turned off the TV, all you heard was the static silence floating in the air, sound of little drops that flowed through your veins. Your mind had become vague, your thoughts made room for your imagination, you slowly fell asleep. There was a long time after you felt unconscious - you weren’t sure of how much exactly. Maybe two, maybe three hours. You had asked Doris to open the window before she let you rest alone in your room, and the wind was hitting your skin, still sensitive due to the excess of meds; the subtle cold you were feeling was making you feel alive.

The lights were off, and as soon as it became dark, the lights of the city reflecting through the window were no longer enough to light up the room belongings.

In that intense darkness and in the most absolute silence possible, the ghost that haunted your dreams was standing, tall as always, at the end of your bed. Haunting you. Silent like a snake approaching a possible victim, even his breath seemed to be controlled enough not to make a noise. His eyes, behind the mask, fixed on you; you slept quietly in a heavy sleep that was obviously the result of the strong medicines you were taking. He approached the bed a little, your hand was laying in your body side by the bed. So small.

Drop.

The sound of the drops of IV falling through the bag invaded the environment as if it were the sounds of a giant walking. The big night silence had this effect on small sounds – it enlarged them. You heard the sound of the window closing inside your dreams, but that didn’t seem to wake you up. The cold wind no longer hit your skin, and you began to warm up.

How long has passed since the sound of the curtains closed you could not say; but what awakened you knew: it was the sounds of the door opening. You instinctively frightened and adjusted your posture in bed a bit abruptly, until you realized that the man who was entering — now unarmed though still dressed in his combat suit — was him. The Ghost.

He watched you in silence for a few seconds before shaking his head.

“Did I wake you?” He asked, the same serious and rough voice, the loaded British accent, different from your American one. “Forgive me.”

“You’re all right.” was all you could think of answering in the first moments. His eyes looked at you altogether; he was so tall that only his presence there made you feel intimidated, even if that was not his goal. “Don’t you want to sit?”

“I don’t intend to delay myself much.” He responded quickly, getting a little closer to the bed and sitting on one of the chairs next to him just to match your heights a little, imagining it should be uncomfortable for you, bending your neck to look at him standing. “Do you need something?”

“No. I’m fine now,” you whispered, sitting down. “I just wanted to thank you personally. I didn’t have time before, I- I just don’t think I was in good senses for it.” you admitted, holding your hands together on your lap.

“I just did my job.” he nodded, a serious air to his words. Ghost seemed like a man of few words, of few feelings too. His tone was monotone, always serious, seemingly stern sometimes. Made you feel like it was perhaps due to his habit of giving orders; he was a tenant, as Price told you. You knew little about the military hierarchy you had to admit, but the little knowledge was enough for you to know he did give orders.

“I know, but... What you call ‘job’, to me was saving my life.” you seemed to try to remind him as if it was something obvious. “If I have any way to reward you for that, please tell me.”

Ghost closed his eyes for a moment and stretched his neck, shooking negatively.

“Again, I just did my job. You don’t have to reward me for that.” he said, looking at the flower vase that rested on the headboard table for a moment.

Simon noted that although there were thousands of gifts and tickets on the outside, sent by ordinary citizens in support of your situation - there were no balloons or any indication of a family or friendly gift inside your room. Only those flowers.

They were addressed to Anthony Miller. He assumed it would be your boyfriend.

“You don’t get it, Ghost. It’s not about needing, it’s just something I want to do. It doesn’t have to be right now, you can tell me in the future if you need a favor or something like that.”

“I don’t usually need favors.” he assured, snorting at your insistence, but trying to stay as polite and friendly as possible. He didn’t want to end up making you worse, did he? You were already sad enough.

“Everyone needs favors. I also used to not need many before yesterday’s events.” You admitted, raising your eyebrows quickly and turning your gaze away.

“I didn’t do you a favor. I helped you, those are completely different things.” He shook negatively, irreducibly. “Any other decent soldier would do the same. You owe me nothing.”

“Yes, but it was you. If it had been someone else then I’d like to thank this person.” you argued, and your stubbornness began to irritate him; he gave in compassion to your state and only sighed deeply.

“That’s all you have to treat with me, miss?” He asked, turning his head a little, and you corrected him; do not call me lady, you murmured, and instructed him to call you by your name.

You watched him in silence for a few seconds, before breathing deeply.

“Actually no. I have a request.” you said, in a whisper, and he shrugged his head as if giving you a positive one. “Can I see the face behind your mask?” You asked curiously.

“Negative.” He answered, almost immediately, without even giving you a chance to try to refute or argue. “I can’t show my face, and if it relieves you if anything, it’s not a nice image to look at,” he continued, rising up.

You were a little desperate for his sudden rising, hoping he would stay a little longer. Of all those people with whom you had talked so far — Price, Doris; he remained the one who seemed to please you into a conversation the most. You wanted to talk to him, because, unlike others, Ghost did not treat you like a porcelain doll.

He was treating you like any other person.

“No, wait — you think you’re ugly, is that so? I don’t care.” you assured. “I doubt you’re ugly, to be honest.”

“I didn’t say that,” he raised an eyebrow, seeming to have your commentary somewhat amusing. You raised an eyebrow in response and laid your body on the pillows behind you.

“Wouldn’t you open an exception for me?” You asked, and he shook negatively. You closed your eyes, in a frustrated but accepting sigh.

“Well- you get well soon. Hear me, girl?” Ghost gently said, and walked a little further to the door, and stopped in his steps before leaving. He looked at you for a moment. “Are you here alone?”

“Yeah, I am. Why is it?” You asked curiously.

“Because your IV is running out, and without those pain meds, let me tell you...” he raised his eyebrows quickly. “Should I call your boyfriend or a nurse?” He asked, glaring at you.

“Wait- my boyfriend?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows for a moment, and he remained silent. His hand stood up and pointed to the flowers next to the bed, as if he mentioned that the person who sent them should be your boyfriend. You eyed the flowers and let out a soft laugh.

“Ah, that... No, it’s not from a boyfriend.” You explained.

“Well, I’ll call some nurse then.” he said, his hand leaned on the door knocker and his fingers danced in unison, in a thoughtful expression. He looked at you again. “Stay safe.” he said, before his huge, broad figure disappeared through the door and the long hallway of the hospital leaving you once again lost to your thoughts, and alone.

Your eyes looked at your own hands for a few seconds, and you realized that they were pleasantly warm. You looked out the window, closed.

How strange was the fact that you didn’t remember having closed the window, thought to yourself.

It could have been Doris. But your intuition said no.

#simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #ghost cod #ghost x f!reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #shades of red

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bp-zb1fics · 1 year

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Something cute with Zhang Hao where the reader became close with one of the boys (Jiwoong maybe?) and he's jealous because poor boy has the biggest crush on reader :( with a cute lil confession? 🥰

A real kiss~

pairing: jealous zhang hao x long time friend reader ft. jiwoong as the cause of drama (jk)

pronouns: none used

genre: canon au, fluff, humour

tw/tags: introvert things, nicknames, jealousy lol, jiwoong giving hands-on acting lessons (maybe a lil too hands-on for hao but he’s just being nice y’all), woong best wingman (yes he can sense the tension), kdrama mention, flashback, kissing, confessions

wc: 1175

summary: maybe hao’s a teeny little bit jelly of how well you get along with jiwoong.

a/n if any of you saw this earlier than scheduled, it's because tumblr hates me and likes to confuse me constantly~ anyways thanks for the req anon, this was really cute and i enjoyed writing it very much, a little content note: xiào xiào is a nickname used for kids who are like happy or smiley but hao calls mc that bc they make hao happy shdsd ok if any better mandarin speaker would like to correct me or suggest another nickname, just lmk~

check my pinned for more fics!

Zhang Hao likes to think he’s a fairly laid back person.

Or at least, that’s what he likes to think when you’ve been deep in conversation with Jiwoong for the past hour and not spending time with the person who actually invited you over (him).

Okay maybe he isn’t being fair. You’ve also, over the past hour, checked in on him and tried your best to involve him in your conversation. It’s just that Hao is an introvert and today is one of the days where he doesn’t feel like making it a three way conversation. Also they’ve mostly worked it out but he and Jiwoong still have their awkward moments so there’s that too.

“You alright Hào hào?” Well at least he can enjoy the fact you’re using the nickname that only you call him. (Because absolutely no one else is allowed to call him that ever).

“I’m fine, Xiào xiào.”

You had joined Yuehua around the same time, Zhang Hao as an idol trainee while you were preparing to go into acting. To say you were close would be an understatement. You clicked immediately, the other Yuehua trainees would joke that you were Hao’s co-parent with how often you would come over to their dorm with food.

Hao spent every free day he had off the program with you if both of you weren’t busy. Sometimes you’d even accompany him to visit his subway ads, obviously sporting a mask and hat and keeping it lowkey so as not to draw attention to yourself. While you’ve been an extra or had a line or two for a few drama gigs, you haven’t exactly made your public debut just yet.

It just so happened that you’d be working with Jiwoong on your first minor supporting role in The Good Bad Mother, alongside your actor sunbaenim in Yuehua who had the starring role. The eldest hyung also happened to have quite a bit of experience in acting and you happened to have questions. While your company sunbaenims and teachers were helpful, they were also quite busy and you didn’t want to bother them too much.

“So for kissing scenes-”

Suddenly, Hao’s full attention is on you as you ask his bandmate how one goes about filming such scenes. He’s not dumb. Hao knows once you start getting bigger roles, you might do scenes like that. But dammit, he wants to be your first kiss, not some actor who’s playing your love interest.

“You’ve never been kissed before?”

It’s one of those moments where you’re too tired from the hours and hours of PR training, Hao preparing for Boys Planet and you for the eventual conferences and public appearance you’ll make once you make your acting debut.

“It’s not that.” You sink into the sofa of the little room you’ve been in for hours, learning how to avoid getting a bad edit on camera.

“It’s just that none of them really meant anything, you know? It was for fun, for a dare or some shit like that. To figure out whether I liked boys or girls or both. I just don’t think it’s a real kiss, you know?”

“What’s a real kiss then?”

You’re quiet for a bit and Hao’s about to move on with the conversation when you speak again.

“With someone I like. I’d be nice to kiss someone I like. Someone who likes me too.”

I like you, Hao thinks. I’d like to kiss you.

He could do it. He could offer. But he’s shy and your friendship is only a few months old and he’s going to get shipped off to this Mnet program soon. So instead he says:

“That sounds nice. I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“Maybe because you’re the type to go around kissing everyone, Mr. Campus prince.”

You tease.

“Hey! I wasn’t like that at all.”

Hao protests. You grin mischievously and your conversation devolves back to light, playful back and forth.

But Hao doesn’t forget.

Maybe that’s the day that he decides to try and become the someone you like.

Jiwoong’s hands are on your shoulders. Zhang Hao’s not sure when that happened but he does know that he doesn’t like it.

“So my hands should go here?” You ask, patting Jiwoong's rib cage. He nods, expression completely placid and wholly focused on teaching you how to manoeuvre yourself.

“You can also put it on their waist, the director will be giving you instructions and you can monitor yourself on camera between takes as well.”

You nod thoughtfully, tentatively placing your hands on him. Zhang Hao’s fingers twitch, just a little. Most of the members who had been filtering in and out of the room seemed to have disappeared. It’s just him, you, and Jiwoong.

Which is why you decide to lean in, your face just about a few inches away from the eldest ZB1 member.

“So I just go like this?”

That’s it. Hao’s had enough. He can’t do this. He can’t watch you anymore.

“Xiào xiào?”

Hao’s careful not to show how happy he is when you pull away from Jiwoong and look at him. His hyung must have sensed it anyway, standing up and saying he’s supposed to meet Seobin soon. You thank him for the help, he says you can text him anytime (Hao’s not sure how to feel about that one) and then he leaves the two of you alone.

“There goes my acting teacher.” You pout a little and Hao can’t help himself.

“You came here to spend time with me, not take lessons from Jiwoong-hyung.”

“Awww, is Hào hào jealous?”

“I miss you.” He says instead of answering, hugging your side like he usually does.

You hug him back, and in a small voice, you admit.

“I’ve missed you too, Hào hào.”

There shouldn’t be anything special about the moment. You’ve done this before, hugged like this before, said things like this before. But this time, he just-

Hao pulls away, his arms still wrapped around you loosely. It’s just enough so he can see your eyes, looking at him, he can’t read you too well, he swears his heart’s beating so loudly that you can hear it. But you don’t pull away. He leans in.

His lips are soft against yours, you can feel the slightly sticky sensation of the lip balm he uses, taste a little of the tea he was drinking a while ago. It’s warm and nice and it feels perfect.

His arms slide to your waist and your fingers circle around his shoulders, holding onto the fuzzy knit fabric of his cardigan. You can smell the perfumed lotion he uses, pleasantly floral and addicting. He keeps kissing you. You keep kissing back.

Hao only stops when his heart feels like it’s going to give out, catching his breath and looking at you with your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He can’t help but ask.

“Was that a real kiss?” I like you so, so much.

“I think it was, Hào hào.” I like you too.

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fang-and-feather · 8 days

Note

Congratulations on your follower milestone!

Can I request Theo and the prompt "If you solve this I'll buy you lunch" prompt?

Thank you!

Thank you!! 🥰 I didn't expect getting here, but I am glad to celebrate with you!

Ikemen Vampire - Theo x Reader

Words: 3,577

Summary: The biggest proof Theo could give of trusting you were right about Vincent's safety when you tried reassuring his worries. But proving him you were right and could be trusted was a great responsibility, and the architect of such mystery wasn't making it easy for you? Or was her? And was this needed proof the only secret you were about to uncover?

Tags: Some Canon Divergence, Fluff, a bit of Romance at the end, Getting Together, First Kiss

Request from my 100 Followers Celebration. Prompts for it were from @anyfandomfluffbingo

Not planned as a birthday fic for Theo, but posted just in time for it so: Happy Birthday Theo!

(it was in fact planned to be paired with Vincent's birthday fic - and I finished neither in time - so the fic timeline is off for Theo's own birthday)

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

It wasn’t often that you had the opportunity to just sit in the dining room and enjoy a peaceful breakfast.

You always had an early, and sometimes rushed, breakfast, either before helping Sebastian serve breakfast as the other residents woke up or, most often, because Theo was in a hurry to leave for work, to which he often took you along.

Maybe you would take advantage of the beautiful day, find a nice spot in the garden, and finally read the books Vincent’s girlfriend left with you.

Or maybe you would head to town, do some window shopping, and stop by the cafe you had been meaning to visit for a while now. And maybe you could bring one of the books along. It was from Comte’s library, but he wouldn’t mind, would he? As long as you were careful with it.

But a dark cloud thundered on the horizon, threatening to rain over your sunny mood.

The name of that cloud was Theo, and by the thundering footsteps, loud enough even on the carpeted floor, his mood was as dark as the rain clouds, and with Vincent having gone out and Arthur busy writing, the problems that soured his mood would certainly rain over you.

And you had a good idea of what these problems were. The woman who had shown up about a week before, and whom Vincent introduced as his girlfriend. Apparently, they had been dating for a while, but it had been the first time Theo had ever heard of his brother having a girlfriend, and he immediately distrusted her.

Of course, he didn’t dare complain in front of Vincent. Not after his first few warnings were shut down. So it was you who had been subjected to his angry outburst the first time, until you calmed him enough to remind him that if Vincent had really fallen in love, that was a good thing.

Besides, although you had not dared say so to him then, you really thought Theo was exaggerating and being too quick to judge. Maybe because, for overprotective Theo, nobody was good enough for his brother, and anyone who dared try was targeting him because Vincent was an innocent angel that could see no evil in anyone.

You thought Vincent was more than capable of discerning bad intentions. He just chose to trust people. And his girlfriend was a little suspicious, yes, but whatever she was hiding seemed to be personal. Maybe something about her past or family, but not anything that would pose a danger to Vincent. You had yet to find a way to prove it to Theo, though.

And now you were likely in for another round of playing therapist.

Maybe listening to the same signs as you, Sebastian stepped out of the kitchen almost at the same time as Theo stormed in.

“You are quite late, Master Theodorus. I will have your breakfast ready in a moment.”

The only acknowledgement Tho gave Sebastian was a short grunt. You weren’t given even that as he roughly pulled the chair next to yours away from the table, and sat down, making the wood creak.

Finally opening the other hand that had been balled into a fist the whole time, Theo tried to roughly smother the crumpled piece of paper over the table.

By the way Theo glared at the paper as if he could set it on fire if he stared hard enough. It seemed to be the source of his foul mood, but when you peered at it, all you saw were lines.

Was it a sketch? A rough draft of an abstract painting? The lines were delicate and full of small curves and details, but they didn’t seem to form a definite shape. Or maybe you just weren’t looking at it the right way.

Theo looked equally stumped by its form or meaning. But maybe it just wasn’t finished. Why was he so determined to figure it out and so angry that he couldn’t?

You leaned over the table and closer to him, greeting in a loud, cheerful tone.

“Good morning, Theo!”

“Do you have to be so loud first thing in the morning, Hondje?” Theo groaned, rubbing his temple.

“Sorry, but you should rest if you’re not feeling well. Stressing will only make it worse.”

“Why shouldn’t I stress when Vincent didn’t come home yesterday? And I found this in his room, with my name written on the back, but that’s not Vincent’s handwriting. This must be a map to where she took him.”

You didn’t even need to ask who was “she”. There was only one person he would be so suspicious of, although you were also used to Theo being very rational. You forgot that, when it came to Vincent, Theo was a different person.

“So you think Vincent was kidnapped?”

“Why else would he just disappear without saying anything, or at least leave a note?”

“They left this. I think they just went out on a date. I mean, it’s Vincent’s birthday. Isn’t it normal to want to take your boyfriend on a date on his birthday? Maybe his girlfriend just signed the wrong paper by accident.”

In fact, you knew Vincent had gone on a date. You caught him leaving, and he made you promise not to tell Theo. But it wasn’t a problem if Vincent was already at his destination and Theo thought it was just your guess, right?

“Someday all that trust will get you into trouble.” Theo sighed. You were about to protest when he added in a softer tone. “Maybe I should really put a leash on you to keep you out of it.”

You used to complain about those kinds of comments, even if you knew Theo was joking, which led you to bicker a lot in the early days. But you knew how to read between the lines by now. And not only was he telling you that he cared enough that he wanted to keep you safe, but also, by the way anger seemed to slowly leave him, that he trusted you.

Could you be more in love with that man?

At first, you thought he was insufferably rude but, as he dragged you around to work, you started to see his inner kindness hidden by his harsh manners, as well as his passion for art and his loyalty to the people he loved. Only to start naming the things you discovered to love about him.

And he was handsome, to boot. While the house was full of pretty guys, you had to admit that, by looks alone, Theo was the one who caught your attention the most.

Theo had slowly made his way into your heart, and by now, he had taken permanent roots there. Yet, you were uncertain if he could feel the same way about you. At best, you wanted to believe the two of you had become friends.

And you would enjoy what you had while it lasted. You had to go back to your own time pretty soon, anyway. You just wanted to believe you could make Theo’s life a little better until then.

“Hondje!” Theo called loudly, and heat quickly rose up to your face as you realized you had been staring while lost in thought.

“Sorry. What did you say?”

“That little hondjes who don’t pay attention to their masters get punished.” He gave you one of his usual devious grins, and all you could think about was that he must have gotten back to his usual self, which was great.

“It wasn’t that!” You protested.

“I said that, even if you’re right about the date, this paper still holds some sort of secret. Vincent wouldn’t just leave without saying anything. And since you are so sure of yourself, then you should solve it. You two seem very close. ”

The paper was almost shoved in your hand as Sebastian set a plate piled high with pancakes in front of Theo, besides a big bottle of syrup and a glass of Rouge.

You cast a tense glance at Sebastian, your accomplice in Vincent’s little escapade, but the amused glint in his eyes informed you he had been listening and he was not going to be of any help.

As happy as it made you to know Theo trusted you enough to feel like Vincent was safe when you said so, you had no idea what these bunch little lines had to do with anything, and you didn’t think you could extract any answers from them.

“Theo, I…”

But you were shut off by a forkful of pancake drenched in syrup being shoved in your mouth.

“Do I have to keep that mouth of yours full for you to stop barking, Hondje?” He asked in an amused tone before using that same fork to feed himself, making your cheeks feel even hotter. “But fine. I won’t leave you without a treat. If you solve this, I will buy you lunch. If you do so before lunch, that is.”

Now that was a tempting offer. Going out for lunch with Theo sounded almost like a date. He’d taken you to eat out before, but it was always because he thought you were hungry or deserved a reward after work. You had never gone out exclusively for this.

You knew that was not how Theo meant it, but you could dream for a while, right? It would be a nice taste of what could have been. A precious memory to carry back when this place became nothing but a sweet dream.

“You know, it would be so much easier to figure something out if you hadn’t crumpled it this much.” You grumbled, trying to smother the paper.

Why did he ever think you could solve this, anyway? In fact, it was most likely that, now that he wasn’t worried anymore, he wanted to enjoy his pancakes in peace.

Should you leave and study this somewhere else? No. You would enjoy the company unless he told you to leave.

Your second impression of the mysterious paper, now that you could examine it up close, was the same as the first. The lines were too well done to not have a purpose, but at the same time were made of random patterns and didn’t seem to create anything discernible.

But not all art was straightforward, so you refused to let that be your final verdict.

You ran to your room to grab some supplies. You used a pencil to ‘color’ the areas between lines to get a better view of what you were dealing with. It made the picture look like some sort of pattern, which was some advance, and also served to highlight the form of the lines, making them look even more suspicious. Who drew patterns with such random lines?

The most telling result, though, was that it highlighted a few weirdly blank spots that looked like small arrows, indicating some form of direction around the pattern. At first you thought these were just flaws from the paper being all crumpled, but there were too many and all of them had roughly the same shape and were always close to the line.

Casting a side glance at Theo, you realized he had taken this time as his turn to stare at you, with a mix of amusement and… was it pride, in his gaze and smile? But as soon as you tried to get a better look, he turned back to his pancakes as if nothing had happened.

Now using the magnifying glass Theo had gifted you to take a closer look was a different story.

Whoever drew that knew what they were doing and wanted to complicate the life of whoever tried to decipher its mysteries.

It was easier to identify individual patterns like this and where they were repeated. They looked almost like letters now. It looked somewhat familiar, but wasn’t any language you knew.

That was too hard. Why would the person who left this for Theo - you were basically agreeing with him that it had been Vincent’s girlfriend - wouldn’t have left some sort of clue for him?

You closed your eyes and let out a small sigh, and Theo turned back to you.

“Giving up already, Hondje?”

“No. It’s just difficult. At least you were right. There is some sort of message here. I just need to find some context to start.”

What did you know about your new friend?

Nothing much, to be honest. You bonded through books. That was all it was.

Then something clicked in your mind. Books! What if the clue wasn’t left with Theo, because she expected for someone else to solve it for him? That person was you, and the writing looked familiar because it was in the books she left with you.

Running back to your room one last time, you quickly sought the books, finding similar writing on the first few introductory pages of the first one. Pages you had looked through just yesterday.

You hadn’t thought much of it at first because everything surrounding this house was strange and mysterious. These were books from the future, but it wouldn’t be the first time one such book made its way into Comte’s library. It currently housed all of Dazai’s books, who technically wasn’t even born yet, and Leonardo had told you they just showed up one day. The only difference was that the author of these wasn’t one of the residents. But who could prove there weren’t more books like these in the library? Maybe Leonardo, if you asked him, otherwise, you doubted anyone could know the full contents of a library that size without some sort of catalog.

But now that you thought about it, she had said something that had given you pause when you received the books. Something about you already having formed an opinion on reading it or not. As if she knew you had seen these particular books before.

You did read it before, in your time, and knew where to find answers.

You picked a new paper and, using the arrows to figure the order it was written in, started to translate it.

Curiously, it was written in English, adapted around some parts that didn’t translate well, which made it difficult to guess some words, but you were confident in your accuracy, given the context of the words you were sure of.

“I thought you had given up and ran away, hoping I wouldn’t catch you.” Theo spoke, leaning against the doorframe.

“Why do you sound like you wanted that to happen?” He smiled and so did you. “But I actually solved it. And it’s definitely not a ransom note.”

“What does it say, then?”

You weren’t sure you wanted a part in this game between Vincent’s girlfriend and Theo. Was it better to let him read it on his own?

“Spit it out, Hondje.”

Whatever. Not like the resulting translation was your fault, and Theo would understand that. So you took a deep breath and read it aloud.

The note basically complained about Theo’s obsession with Vincent, as it informed him that, because of it, she had decided to sneak out so they could go on a trip together. It didn’t explain why the cryptic message, but it informed she had left a more normal note. Theo just found this one first and got too focused on it.

To you, it sounded like she wanted him to find this note and give him a little of trouble, as some sort of revenge prank for the way he was acting.

And she had handed you the books with the solution, making you the only one who could solve the mystery. As if she knew, or at least hoped, Theo would go to you for help. As if she wanted to force him to.

Did she realize your feelings for Theo and wanted you two to interact more? Or was she just trying to push Theo towards the closest woman so she could have more time with Vincent without overprotective Theo getting in the way?

No. You knew little of her, but she wouldn’t just push people together without thinking there was some sort of relationship there. But it could be because you and Theo were friends, and she knew Arthur was too busy.

Theo swore in Dutch, from which you only understood the word cat, which you had no doubt he considered an insult, given his relationship with felines. The rest sounded awfully familiar, though, and although you didn't know the specific meanings, you knew they weren't exactly friendly words.

“She better not think that will get her off the hook. That’s why I don’t trust her.”

“Do you want to know what her secret is?” This little mystery had also given you a few clues for an entirely different answer, in a way that it felt like she wanted you to realize it. So there was no problem to share it, right? “Would that make you feel better?” You asked, before he could launch into a tirade of complaints about the girl. “I found something quite interesting during this game.”

“I don’t think it will help, but what is it?”

“I will tell you after lunch.” You couldn’t help grinning at him and adding: “If you behave.”

Instead of complaining, Theo grinned back, and stepped closer until he stood right before where you sat, forcing you to look up to see him, your eyes slowly trailing over his body. He was always such a great view from any angle, but there was something quite teasing and tempting from this point.

“Aren’t you cheeky today? What if I make you tell me right now?”

You gulped, your heart thundering in your ears with the way he looked down at you.

But the spell was quickly broken as Theo stepped back, his smile softening, and patted your head.

“If you wanted me to take you on a walk after lunch, you could have asked. You have been quite useful today. I will let you have it your way for now.”

Behind Theo’s typically weird phrasing, it sounded more and more like a date. Like he meant it as one, even though you knew there was no way.

“Don’t give me hope, Theo.” You thought, trying to keep your delusions to a minimum, enough so you wouldn’t give up your way home. Even though your recent discoveries were threatening to do so already.

Theo stepped back and pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you close.

“Are you doubting my intentions, Hondje? Do you think I would take just anyone out like this? That I would trust just anyone when it came to Vincent? I am only interested in owning one other dog besides King. So be a good girl and stay.”

Before you could say anything in response, Theo’s lips were upon yours, his other hand moving to the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair, as he kissed you with such urgency that it made your head spin. And you returned it with the same passion, a hand also tangling in his hair, the other around his neck, your hold on each other the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

Even at his best, Theo was powerful and relentless like a storm. One you were more than glad to be swept into the eye of. Even when he pulled away, on the brink of drowning you in his passion, the storm didn’t quiet. And you didn’t want it to. Now that you had his attention, you refused to let go of him.

But Theo released you and stepped back. You sighed, struggling to calm the storm that had overtaken you. The smile he gave you was softer that you had ever seen, and as your eyes met his, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, but he pulled away almost immediately, a glint in his eyes you had never seen either, but that lacked the softness of his now faltering smile.

“I’m not going anywhere.” you finally replied. “As long as you’ll let me stay with you.”

“Good.” Theo turned away from you. “Now let’s take you out for lunch before I get hungry and decide to devour you instead. I’ll met you by the gate in fifteen minutes.”

As Theo left, you let your body collapse back on the bed. What an exciting day it had been. And you hadn’t gone through half of it yet.

So that was the start of his bloodlust threatening to take over that you noticed and that made him practically run away. An unnecessary proof of his attraction to you. Theo hadn’t really said he loved you, but his actions spoke it loud and clear, because Theo would never kiss someone like that without being serious about it.

You couldn’t believe it. After all the time you spent fretting over whether it was worth facing rejection or leaving without telling him of your feelings, that he returned your love.

And you couldn’t believe it took some external push for you to get to this point. You would have to do something to thank her later. But for now, you had less than fifteen minutes to get ready for your date, and you wanted it to be as perfect as possible.

Tag List: @violettduchess, @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya, @eventinelysplayground, @2-lines-and-a-circle, @specters0rd, @vampiricpancake

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, even if it's in specific contents, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

#Fang's 100 Followers Celebration #anyfandomfluffbingo #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo #ikevamp #fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic

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nexysworld · 1 year

Text

Guardian Angel 🖤 Part 4.1 🖤

Read on AO3 - Requests are Open - Masterlist Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | 4.1 | 4.2| 4.3 A/N: Thanks for the support and patience for this chapter. Tumblr wouldn't actually let me post it in one or even 2 parts no matter how I tried to split it, so it's split into three parts (though you can read it as one chapter on AO3.)

Chapter Summary: In a an attempt to get reader to open up to him, he starts giving in to a change of scenery and other requests for her. Leon even allows her a special friend before he leaves on a work mission, leaving the reader home alone for the first time.

🖤Pairing: Yandere!Leon/Fem!Reader

🖤Tags (not all apply to all chapters): NSFW, Masturbation, Dubcon, Sex, Gaslighting, canon typical horror and gore descriptions, probably eventual kidnapping or kidnapping like behavior, use of pet names like bunny. Leon induces some PTSD like flashbacks on purpose, general things of that nature. Unwanted creampie, etc. Probably treat as dead dove. Inappropriate use of animal collar. This chapter contains sexual content. Threats of animal abuse (though none occurs and it's not descriptive.)

As always this was inspired by @hxllfiredoll 's story Something Permanent. If you like Yandere!Leon please go give that a read along with @dollrxst's story Lovesick and @gigabyte-flare's story There's no Escape. Also wanted to add @lipglossanon because I love their work and you should too. While not explicitly yandere! it's adjacent and their works are awesome.

Weeks passed by in a haze, Leon had to guide you from task to task like a well controlled sim. “Yes Sir’s” and “Ok Daddy’s” slipped from your lips habitually, never allowing your brain to focus on anything outside of that. It was the only coping mechanism you had now, as allowing a thought to cross your brain opened yourself up to feelings you were not capable of handling now. Your mind had failed you, so you didn’t need it.

The first week you woke with terrible nightmares, screaming, crying, clawing at nothing. Leon would grab your wrists and pin you down to the mattress before pulling you into a sensory hug, wrapping your arms around yourself, not letting go until your outburst stopped. Submitting to his strength surprisingly made you feel safe, despite all that had occurred. If there was one thing you were sure of, Leon wouldn’t let anything, well, besides himself, harm you. He’d coo at you, petting your hair. “It’s okay baby bunny, I got you. I got you. Nothing bad will happen to you while I’m here.” It was at least enough to lull you back to sleep.

During the day it was a different story. The shadow man was always there. Always . Those red eyes watching you from every corner of the home, sometimes hiding in your peripheral vision. No matter what you did, he wouldn’t go away. Every day it felt like he was getting louder, closer . A constant reminder of someone who never existed - yet whenever you heard the voice your heart would pang with fear and guilt. Your only waking comfort was Jasper, winding through your legs before disappearing. Purring by you even when you didn’t see him.

Leon kept insisting to you no one was there. You could tell he was getting more and more upset by the day. “What’s rule number 2 Sweetheart?” “Always listen to you?” “That’s right. Do you want to go back to timeout?” “Please, no.” “Then look me in the eyes and tell me no one is there.” “There’s no one there, Sir.” “You know it really hurts me Bunny. All I do is love you and take care of you, and you’re focused more on an imaginary friend.” He said, giving you a kiss. “I’m sorry Daddy, didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Thank you for being so good to me.” “Aww baby, you’re making my heart melt. I suppose I can forgive you.” He kissed you on the forehead and gave you a head pat.

The last thing you wanted was to be in that basement again, alone and in the dark with your thoughts. Soon that’s when you realized if you closed off your mind, things were a little better. The paranoid fear and guilt instead turned to a resounding walled-off numbness and while the man didn’t go away, he returned to his spot in the corners making it easy for you to pretend he wasn’t there. Sadly, that meant Jasper went away too - you missed the cat’s presence.

At first it seemed Leon was pleased that the talk of the man had stopped. However your zombie-esque behavior led to him being more overprotective, with a thinly veiled annoyance you didn’t care to think about. Not that you thought about much of anything anyway.

Soon the entire house was baby-proofed. All the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen were locked so you couldn’t touch anything that might put you in danger. Toddler cutlery and adult sized sippy cups were all that was allotted for you still. If you’d been in the right state of mind it would've felt so embarrassing to be taken care of this way, right now though, you didn’t have enough fight left to care,living in only the most literal sense possible.

You sat at the table, food slipping from the plastic spork for the umpteenth time before Leon would sigh and reach over, scooping up the food himself feeding it to you. “Poor baby, can’t even eat without me hmm?”

You nodded softly while he dabbed excess food from your mouth with a napkin.

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~ Leon hated this. For starters he was jealous, and he hated the feeling of jealousy. It burned in the pit of his stomach and twisted him at the core. The last time he felt jealous, he erased someone from this very plane of existence. But now, what was he going to do? You were so hung up on this red-eyed man that didn’t exist at all, and that damned imaginary cat.

Couldn’t you see what you were doing to him? How unfair this was for him? You were ruining your chance at a perfect life together. All you needed to do was give him your attention, focus on him . Be a good girl - and yet here you were chasing shadows.

There were brief times he felt guilty, he knew he’d pushed you hard in such a short amount of time. He wouldn’t lie even to himself, he had hoped to break you down further in the Bad Girl Room, but not this far and not so quickly. Leon was no psychologist but this was definitely a psychotic break if he’d ever seen one, and that was not his intention. He’d truly overestimated the capabilities inside that pretty little head of yours. He now had to work overtime to re-establish a comforting and safe environment for you. But hey, that’s what you do for the people you love.

It seemed all it took was a threat back to time out and you became so beautifully compliant. He lived for the moments he got to spend taking care of you. Slipping food past your lips while you fumbled with the too small spork, gently running a wash cloth along your body in the bath as you leaned back against him, dressing you in his oversized clothes, tucking you into your bed without a fight.

You were gorgeous when you lazily batted those long eyelashes at him - like a human doll. Once asleep he’d lay there for hours just admiring you, taking in your familiar smell, playing with your hair, committing the feeling of skin to memory.

God it would’ve been perfect . After so much time pining after you, watching you, needing you. You were his very purpose in life after all, keeping you safe and closed off from harm was his number one goal - to an outsider it may have seemed like that’s what he had now - but that wasn’t true. He had your body. He had your compliance. But you weren’t there. Now a new type of jealousy boiled within him. He was jealous of you. Jealous that you kept all your thoughts to yourself. He wanted to hear your laughter again, feel you snuggle against him like you had when he first brought you here. What he wouldn’t give to hear you ask him about his day - actually talk to him in some capacity without being forced. More than jealous he was insulted . Did you not think he was good enough anymore to share words with? How dare you think of yourself as above him when you couldn’t even care for yourself. No baby, no you clearly weren’t understanding your place. He had done all of this for you, you owed him your love and affection in return. He had been trying for a while with different enrichment activities to bring you out of your current state. After the first week he couldn’t take your nightmares anymore, they broke his heart, he’d started to drug your nighttime drink to help you get a more restful dreamless sleep thinking it would help. It didn’t, you slept but still woke up groggy with eye bags. It came to a head when he’d pulled you close to him on the couch for a movie night, you’d flopped over him like a ragdoll, but offered nothing else in return. He put what he knew was your favorite movie on. Dead silence . Not even a slight exhale out of your mouth during a funny part.

Now he was frustrated. He was teetering the line between losing his temper, wanting to just shake you into compliance, make you know your place, and worrying that he would lose you completely if he did in your already broken state of mind. No - no he could fix this. You were his Bunny, a simple creature and not hard to outthink, there was just something he was missing. He’d let both his excitement and temper cloud his mind, something that rarely happened. After several hours of contemplation Leon was drawing a blank on what exactly he could do. Without a solid plan in mind he decided at the very least to change up your view a little bit - give you some outside time. Leon had implanted you with the tracker so he could keep watch of you around the entirety of the owned property. Eventually you’d be allowed to roam, but you weren’t at that level of trust yet, and given your current mental state he didn’t particularly want you outside at all - but this was his last ditch effort. “Hey pretty girl, what do you think about taking a walk with me?”

He watched you tilt your head like the question was in a foreign language. “Bunny, I asked if you would like to take a walk with me?” “Outside?” “That’s right baby, outside.” There was a slight change in your expression at the offer. Better than nothing, he’d take it. He helped you into a more appropriate outfit and shoes before guiding you out the door. He watched your timid steps as you walked around, everything so new again after the confines of the house. “Hey baby, we can go in any direction you want. Lead the way, I’ll hold your hand.” He gave your hand a gentle reassuring squeeze.

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~ Outside felt wonderful . You’d forgotten what sunlight felt like against your skin, the warmth radiating throughout your body contrasted by the slight breeze blowing back and forth. Leon had even let you wear a sundress instead of the usual tshirt and sweatpants of his. It swished when you walked, and for a few moments you felt normal. You felt like a person again. The only reminder of your captivity was the obnoxious collar around your neck.

Outside had no corners, there was no man hiding anywhere, just fresh air and nature. Giddy . That was the best description you had for the moment, giddy. You walked with Leon through the back gate out into the plush grassy backyard.

Not able to contain your excitement, you kicked your shoes off before taking off towards the middle of the yard. Leon wouldn’t be thrilled, but God, running, moving your muscles, feeling the grass between your toes. It was euphoric. You heard a displeased noise leave him as he came towards you, but you didn’t care at that moment. You removed your hair tie so the wind could properly blow it around, before closing your eyes and twirling in a circle giggling. God were you actually giggling? Yes you were . That’s how amazing it felt to be outside right now.

Leon stopped just a short distance from you, when you opened your eyes to look at him, shock was written on his face which melted to a smile once he’d seen your laughter. You stopped to take in his form. The rays of light poked through the trees making his honey-blonde hair look even shinier than usual, his blue eyes looked beautiful against the contrasted green of the trees behind him. He looked so normal. For a brief fleeting moment you just saw Leon, your neighbor who’d been so kind to you before. You had to take a moment to remind yourself of who he really was. Maybe he can still be that Leon too though?

The idea was cut short as your head whipped to the side, hearing a noise in the distance. For a second you almost panicked thinking it was another hallucination, you didn’t want it to be, nothing would've ruined the outside experience more for you. And then there it was again, so soft and small. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what Bunny?” “Over there.” You pointed to the trees at the edge of the yard, grabbing his hand you gently tugged coaxing him to walk with you, but he stood like a statue. “No baby, not until you put your shoes back on.” “Please? The grass feels so good and I think it might go away if we don’t hurry.” Again he didn’t budge. “A little time outside and you’re already forgetting the rules? Maybe we should go back inside then.” His features cinched together into that hard authoritarian look. “No. No! I’m sorry. Look, I'm putting them on right now.” You slid your feet back into the slide sandals. “See?” You reached out for his hand again, this time he took yours and let you walk closer to where you wanted to investigate. Your eyes lit up when your suspicions were confirmed. Sitting underneath the tree was a small cat, all black, not Jasper - which meant it was likely real. It was older than a kitten but still too small to be an adult. You went to reach out a hand to coax it towards you but Leon pulled you back. “I don’t think so, Sweetheart. That thing could be feral, you have no idea it might be carrying. You can look, but stay back here with me.” Despite your disappointment in not being able to move forward, you were comforted to know the feline was in fact real. You observed the cat a little longer, it stretched from its spot and limped towards you, something was wrong with its back leg. It seemed so sweet letting out a soft mew, the closer it got you could see it was in bad condition, too thin. You felt an odd sense of heartbreak and when Leon went to pull you away you squeezed his hand softly. He could already see the cogs in your brain turning. “Bunny, no.” “Please? It’s not feral, it’s just hurt, it needs help.” The cat was sniffing at your feet now, purring despite its injuries. Leon didn’t seem swayed by your pleading or the state of the creature. “If I had a real one then you wouldn’t have to listen to me talk about an imaginary one. Please, you can’t make me leave him out here. I’m begging you.” Leon let go of your hand and you took the opportunity to bend down and pet the cat’s head. His fur was so soft, you couldn’t help the ear to ear smile that spread across your face when it rubbed into your touches. The cat moved over and nudged against Leon’s boot. “How can you say no to that little face?” You pouted, doing your best to give your saddest face, batting your eyelashes. “Bunny, don't look at me like that…” He sighed looking down at the creature. “Fine. Fine. But you’re not naming it until I take it to a vet to make sure it��s not diseased.” His words went through one ear and out the other, you couldn’t take the excitement as you flounced over and wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Daddy, thank you so much.”

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~

Leon did not want the cat. He didn’t care if it had a clean bill of health or not. One more responsibility to take care of, one more thing to pull your attention from him…but then he saw that look on your face. God you were really pulling out all the stops to tug at his heart, not to mention the way you looked twirling around the yard. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen you that happy, prior to even bringing you here, it had been so special he hadn’t even stopped you from removing your shoes or running off. So of course he gave in to his little Bunny. He’d allow the cat, if only for your happiness, but then you had embraced him as thanks? Kissed him too? His heart nearly imploded by the willing show of affection. It was such a stark contrast to the lifeless husk you’d been. He internally patted himself on the back for his decision to bring you outside today.

He watched you scoop the little feline up in the skirt of your dress, so careful to not hurt it further, cooing and doting on it. Then it occurred to him . Yes baby, that’s exactly what you needed. Something to take care of, to be needed by . Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner?

This cat wouldn’t do though. No it was too broken, too needy, might take you too far away from him. But a cat would be perfect. That night he gave you an extra dose of your sleeping medication to make sure you’d be out for a long while, he left in the early morning hours after he packed the cat up in his Jeep, heading for town.

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~

You woke sluggishly in the middle of the afternoon. It was the first time in a long time that you can remember waking up without Leon already being there to greet you – and there was a small part of you that nearly panicked. The house was silent, too silent . After the excitement of the previous day you were feeling a little better, which meant you hadn’t closed your mind off. He was back again, red eyes glowering at you through the crack in the closet door. You swallowed thickly, wishing you hadn’t noticed. Your hands shook, knuckles white as you gripped the bedding. You remembered what Leon had said, nothing would happen to you as long as he was there , but he wasn’t there, and he didn’t even believe this thing existed. You gathered up all your courage before dropping your feet to the floor, running out of the room as fast as you could like a child running for their parents after a bad dream.

As you trotted down the staircase, you heard the sound of the Jeep’s ignition being turned off. Practically plastering your face to the window, you watched as Leon pulled a pet carrier out of the side and your heart leapt. He’s here. You’re safe. He meant what he said about keeping the cat. Leon brought the carrier inside before exiting and returning with a few boxes of cat supplies. “Hey baby, you just wake up?” “Yeah. You weren’t here.” You didn’t know why you felt the need to point that out to him. “Ah, sorry for not warning you. I took the cat to the vet as promised Sweetheart. Lucky for you they patched him up and gave him a clean bill of health, just a little scrawny. Here, let me get that for you so you don’t hurt yourself.” He said opening the carrier’s locks. The little black cat nervously peeked out and you gently stroked the fur on its head with two fingers. “Jesus what the hell is that?” You asked, looking at the giant robot thing Leon was putting together in the living room. Leon gave you a knowingly disappointed look. “Bunny, what’s rule number 3?” You had to actually think about it for a moment before replying, not being on auto-pilot after so many weeks was difficult. “Good girls don’t have potty mouths?” “That’s right.” “Sorry Sir. I meant to say, can you please tell me what that is?” “Litter-robot. Don’t want you having to put too much effort into scooping nor do I want the house smelling like a cat.” “Oh. High tech, I like it, thank you.” You looked down at the cat that crawled into your lap. Now that you were looking more closely, something was off. This cat was all black, but it definitely wasn’t the one from yesterday. Tiny details were off. Besides, the other one’s leg was hurt pretty badly, this one looked totally ok. Leon caught the look on your face. “What’s wrong?” “This isn’t… what did you do with the other cat?” “What other cat?” “The one from the yard. This isn’t it.” “Of course it is Sweetie.” “But what about the leg? This one looks completely fine when the other–” “They stitched him up, small stitches you can’t see because of the fur, it’s fine.” “But I remember he distinctly had 12 whiskers, this one has 10.” The second the words left your mouth you knew you should’ve just let it go. “Bunny, are you accusing me of something?” “No, I’m sorry – “ The shift in his mood was scary. “It’s pretty fucking ungrateful don’t you think? Weeks. For weeks I put up with your nonsense about glowing eyes and invisible cats. I even put up with your lack of affection. Despite that, I let you outside, I let you have the first pet you see, even drive it to a vet. I spend all this money on the stupid thing too and you accuse me of something? Daddy’s beyond hurt and mad .” You shivered at the look on his face, he fished the remote out of his pocket and you instantly grasped at the collar on your neck in fear. “No, no I’m sorry. I’m sorry.“ “I give an inch, you take a mile.” “Please, I was wrong. I’m wrong. It’s the same cat. I must have just been overly excited yesterday. Please. I’ll be good, I’m sorry.” Desperately you moved the cat off your lap and scrambled over towards him, gently putting your hand on his, lowering it along with the remote, before leaning forward and kissing him on the lips with a few quick pecks. “Really, I’m so happy about the cat. I’m sorry, please.” His anger seemed to soften with that, he brought one hand up to tighten in your hair, pulling you in for another kiss, this one deep, slow. He held you there an extra moment, resting his forehead on yours, eyes closed, taking in the situation. “Bunny, I think that taste of freedom has you acting a little out of whack. Don’t make me regret loosening the leash a little. One more, and I mean one more slip up and I’m either going to shock the piss out of you or put you back in timeout, got it?” “I understand. I’m so sorry Daddy. Really.”

He kissed you on the cheek, letting you go so he could return to setting up the remainder of the cat items. Your heart slowly resumed its normal beat as you pulled the cat back onto your lap, stroking its fur to calm yourself down. The dull purr that it gave did put you at ease slightly. You decided to try and change the subject to something happier, something to ward off potential tears. “I thought of a name.” “Oh yeah, and what’s that?” “Lucipurr. Lucip for short.”

Leon let out a small laugh. “And here I thought I was the king of corny jokes.” Hearing him laugh felt good, rewarding to your spirit. It stirred memories of prior to all this , just like seeing him so sweetly in the sunshine.

Maybe he hadn’t replaced the cat. Maybe you were just remembering wrong. Even if he had, was it really so bad? You still had Lucip on your lap purring up a storm, Leon skillfully putting the litter box and cat tree together. Everything felt so normal for once. Even the red eyed man was left upstairs in the closet, away from you. Out of sight, out of mind. Or more like the other way around in this case. There was nothing with you except Lucipurr, Leon, and the sunlight coming in through the windows.

~♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡🖤♡~

Despite the small tiff that started, he was beyond happy to see you coming out of your shell. God you were so beautiful when you smiled, and your lips felt like heaven crashing down on him. He knew he’d have to get a hold on himself so as not to let you off too easily in the future, you still had a lot to learn and get used to. Rules and discipline were important, but every now and then letting you off the hook a little wasn’t too bad. He was honestly just cheesed to see you smile again. Yeah he did replace the cat. The other was given to a vet to adopt out, he wasn’t a monster or one of those sick serial killers who torture fluffy pets for fun. What he hadn’t expected was you to notice so easily, he’d done his best to find an exact match. It didn’t matter now though, you seemed content with the one in your lap. Honestly, he’d snapped more out of annoyance of your perception than anything. You were so strange to him, he was always either over or under expecting from you. A unique creature for him to tame, but tame he would, and he felt so close to doing so. After all, an untamed animal was an unsafe animal. Over the course of several more weeks he kept a closer watch on you. No more talk of hallucinations. Excellent . You had actually asked him to watch a movie with you, three different times. Even better . Though he could have gone without you petting the cat the whole time, you were snuggled against him willingly. Everyday he’d take you on a walk just after breakfast and another small walk before bed too, earning him appreciative kisses.

And tonight? Tonight he finally wanted to test this newly affectionate you. He craved you and wanted to see if you were really and truly opening up to him like he hoped. Sure he’d had you plenty of times while you slept, but it wasn’t the same. He shooed the cat out of the bedroom before closing the door. “Why’d you do that? Lucip sleeps in here–” “Because baby, I think you owe me.” He watched the puzzled look form on your beautiful features. “I’ve been so kind haven’t I? The cat, the outside trips. Not to mention the weeks I spent snuggling your panic attacks away every night.” There was always this small amount of panic that would cross your face when he interacted with or spoke about the cat. He committed it to memory knowing he held control over that. “You’re not going to get rid of him are you?” “Oh baby girl, not if you don’t give me a reason too. Are you going to give me a reason too?” When you shook your head, he walked towards the bed, pulling his shirt over his head while he did so. “Look what you do to me.” He cooed, rubbing the bulge that was already forming in his sweatpants. “Why so nervous Bunny, did I hurt you the last time?” “No, Sir. But –” “But what?” He raised a brow at your reaction, daring you to be careful with what came out next. “Last time you promised the morning after pill but then didn’t –” “Did I? Are you sure? I don’t remember that.” He brought his hand up to your face, rubbing your cheek. “You don’t wanna have Daddy’s baby, is that it?”

He watched your face closely testing your reaction. Your eyes darted around nervously while you fidgeted with the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing, he knew you were looking to find the answer that would appease him. Cute . “Don’t worry Bunny, we have plenty of time in the future for me to breed that little pussy. I’d rather enjoy us time for a while, unless you want me to fuck a baby into you - then I’d happily oblige.” He noticed your thighs squeezed together at his words despite your nerves, he slid his hand up one of your legs and leaned forward to lap at the shell of your ear. “C’mon baby, I’m just teasing. I’ve been tracking your cycle, you’re not going to get pregnant tonight, relax.” He kissed along your neck bringing your hand down and coaxed you to touch him through his pants. He sucked a particularly deep bruise into your neck before soothing the purpled spot by circling his tongue over it. “I’d be more comfortable with birth control or –” Your sputtered attempt at asking was adorable . “No Bunny, chemicals like that aren’t good for you. Trust me.” He continued working his way down your neck, letting out a small hiss with each rough touch of your palm against his clothed erection. “What’s rule 2 baby?” “Always listen to you, Daddy.” “Fuck, that’s right.” He bucked into your touch when your fingers wrapped around the outline of him instead of just the flat of your hand. Leon removed your hand from himself so he could more easily get your shirt off. A man on a mission, he sucked deep purple marks into your skin, trailing them down from your neck to your clavicle, holding you in place while the map of marks continued over your stomach. He stopped only at your hip to give it a nip, causing you to jolt.

“So pretty. Purple is definitely your color princess.” He dipped two fingers between your folds, swiping your slick upwards and over your clit, relishing in the noise you made. “Look at that, seems your pussy agrees, she’s so happy she’s crying tears of joy.” He took a moment to eye you up and down, he brought the hand he wasn’t using to play with you up to your neck, tapping the collar lightly. “Hmmm. I think you’d be more comfortable with it off, yeah? I’ll tell you what. I’ll take it off, and if you’re a good girl for me, and I mean a really good girl for me, I’ll give you an even better one. Sound like a deal?” Leon reached into the pocket of his sweats and pulled out a little key, making quick work of the lock and releasing your neck from its confines. He gently rubbed the red marks it’d left on your skin before leaning down to capture your lips again, nibbling and sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away, leading you to sit up and follow him to the end of the bed. Tugging his pants down, he kicked them off to the side before giving his now freed cock a few good pumps. A bead of precum began to pearl at the tip before running down the shaft smearing with the movement of his fists. “Now, I’m going to trust you to be a really good girl. No biting alright?” He pressed the tip against your plus lips, rubbing it back and forth slightly until they were coated in his precum, before he pressed against them urging you to open. He moaned as you accepted him into your mouth. “Fuck, Bunny, just like that.” He held your hair and pushed himself until he was at the back of your throat and held you there. Your tongue hung out, spit spilling down the sides of your face, eyes watering. You looked gorgeous. Right when you were on the cusp of lifting your hands to signal it was too much he pulled out, letting you gasp for air. “Sorry baby, maybe that was a little too much to start. Here, why don’t you play with it for a little however you’re comfortable – I can train your throat another time.” He gave you a moment to catch your breath before encouraging more action.

He hissed when you leaned forward to place a kiss on the tip before lapping at it, he was about to lecture you for teasing, when you swallowed him back into your mouth and began to bob your head shallowly, using your hand to grab what wasn’t fitting. “Good girl. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” Every now and then he couldn’t stop himself from bucking forwards, throwing you off your pace and gagging slightly. When he was close, he grabbed at your hair and tugged you off with a resounding pop, moving positions so he was propped up at the headboard, urging you to crawl back over to him. “Come ride me baby.” He helped you position yourself on top of him, guiding you down onto his thick length until he was bottomed out in your leaky cunt. “So good . I’ll never get used to how your needy pussy just swallows me up.” Leaning back, he put both hands behind his head to relax, allowing you to grip onto his shoulders as you bounced up and down causing obscene squelching noises. “That’s right baby you make Daddy feel so good. Show me how grateful you are for how daddy takes care of you.” Your tongue hung out of your mouth as you concentrated on your movements, the sweet whimpers you made as you slid along his shaft sounded throughout the room like his own personal symphony. “That’s it, god you ride me so well.” He let you go at your own pace, once he noticed you were tiring out opting to rock your hips vs bouncing he decided to help. “Here baby, let me do the rest.” He reached up and grabbed both hips with his strong hands. “Use one hand to hold yourself up. Yep just like that. Now take that hand and touch yourself f’me. Can you do that, baby?” Once you were situated how he wanted you, he easily lifted you up by your hips and brought you back down. His years of strength training made it easy for him to slide you up and down his cock like a personal fleshlight. For the first time he heard you squeak out words, almost incomprehensible with the way your head was thrown back while you lazily rubbed at your clit. “Daddy, I’m so close –” “Atta girl, go ahead baby..” He picked up his speed bringing his hips to slam up each time he pulled you down, groaning when your orgasm soaked everything beneath you as the muscles of your cunt milked the cum out of him. He groaned and spilled into you, slowing down as he rode his orgasm out.

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rip-quizilla · 11 months

Text

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: You realize that getting along with Eddie Munson is as effortless as breathing. Eddie sets a hard rule for himself for your burgeoning friendship.

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by When Harry Met Sally (1989), Slow Burn, Romantic Fluff, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Eddie Munson Lives, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no one dies, Reader-Insert

Part 1

Part 2

Spring, 1983

Monday morning was somehow normal, yet different at the same time.

You’d always known Eddie’s locker was near yours. You’d seen him in the hallways, usually one of the last stragglers ambling through the corridors as if he weren’t about to be late to class- but to you, he’d just as well have been in a different world. You’d never noticed how he always double-checked that his locker was closed by hitting it with the side of his closed fist before he locked it. Never noticed that he didn’t actually carry around a backpack most of the time, he just grabbed whatever ratty old textbook or fraying spiral notebook he needed from his locker and carried it to class in one hand. Now… it amazed you that you had ever been capable of overlooking Eddie Munson. The edges of every other person in the halls of Hawkins High seemed to fuzz and fade, leaving Eddie sharp and vivid, the lone focus of his own vignette. He was leaning up against the door to his locker and bobbing his head to the beat of whatever song played on his Walkman. His curls wisped forward, backward, softly brushing his shoulders and creating a shadowy curtain over his distracted eyes that glazed over while classmates passed him by-

“Are you staring at Eddie Munson?”

Robin’s voice cut you free of the trance you’d accidentally entered, and you blinked a few times while readjusting to reality. “Why would I be staring at Eddie Munson? That’s random.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and the object of your not-so-subtle staring. “I agree, it is random.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, blocking Eddie from your sight and looking at you with eyes that very clearly said ‘Spill’. “So why the random staring? Did he do something? You know, besides the normal Eddie stuff like yelling in the cafeteria and being a menace in general-”

You laughed and shook your head, reaching into your own locker to grab what you needed for your first class of the day. “I wouldn’t use the term menace… I mean he’s actually not a bad guy. You know he gave me a ride home after I finished up in the theater department on Friday? And I didn’t even ask him, he just thought it wouldn’t be safe for me to walk home in the dark-” You shut your locker door to reveal Robin Buckley’s face, just painted with shock.

“You mean to tell me that you rode home in Eddie Munson’s car,” Her voice strained to maintain a whisper’s volume, and you prayed a silent ‘thank you’ that he was wearing headphones right now. “-and I’m just now finding out about it three days later?” Robin’s hands grasped your shoulders and shook. “I need details now, what were you guys even doing in the same room together at school on a Friday night?”

Your eyes flitted back to Eddie over Robin’s shoulder, checking to make sure that he was still too engrossed in whatever he was listening to to overhear the two of you talking about him. “Cool it, Buckley, he is literally right there.” You whispered the warning sharply through clenched teeth. “It’s nothing to write home about , honestly,” you shoved your things into your backpack, shrugging as if to emphasize how not a big deal this all was. “I was finishing up some sets for the play and he was running his dragon club thing, then when I mentioned I was walking home he offered me a ride.” Standing up straight, you shouldered your bag with a curt exhale. “That’s all that happened, I’m just saying he was nice enough to give me a ride home, so he must be a nice guy.”

“Yeah, or…” Robin’s mouth turned up in a knowing smirk, “...he was making a move-” The sentence was cut short by your no. 2 pencil pressing up against her lips. “I’m gonna stop you right there, Buckley.” You interrupted, rolling your eyes at how quickly your friend was trying to play matchmaker. “He was being a friend. We are friends now, that is all.” You stressed the last syllable, praying that she got the message.

Judging by her facial expression, she still wasn’t convinced. You yanked your pencil away from her mouth just in time to save it from her teeth as she jokingly tried to bite it. You laughed, casually checking for Eddie one more time and releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding when you saw the space he’d been occupying now empty.

Robin snaked her arm through yours, walking elbow to elbow with you towards your homeroom. “Maybe you’re right,” she conceded, voice lifting in an airy sort of way. “All I know is that the last time a guy offered me a ride, he was talking to my boobs.”

“Maybe he wanted to be friends with your boobs, then.” you shrugged.

Robin scoffed, nodding in agreement. “Oh I think that’s exactly what he wanted.” She made a show of shaking as an exaggerated shiver ran through her. “Ugh. Ew.”

Eddie exited the boys’ restroom just in time to hear your laughter ringing through the halls. It caught him off guard, his headphones in hand and hovering around his head as he poised to place them back over his ears, but then he heard your laugh.

When his eyes found you, the sight melted the edges of his stone-cold heart a little bit- you were arm in arm with that tall girl from band- Buckley, he’s pretty sure- your head thrown back, eyes scrunched closed, nose wrinkling, smiling wide as your laugh bounced musically among the sound of lockers slamming shut and footsteps shuffling to classrooms. Time slowed, his heartbeat skipped- he had made you laugh a couple times, but never like that. And he wanted to. He had no fucking clue why, but he wanted to hear that laugh every day. He wanted to be the one to elicit that much joy from you, to make your nose scrunch like that, to make you smile so big that he could see every tooth.

Recognizing this as a completely random and unnecessary train of thought, Eddie placed his headphones back on his ears as he made a mental note to learn where you sat during lunch.

Not because he wanted to sit with you or anything… he just wanted to know.

***

Nothing else changed until Wednesday.

You were sitting in your normal lunch spot- nestled in the soft green grass, leaning back against the trunk of the black cherry tree behind the school. You pulled your knees up to your chest and reveled in the way the springtime sunlight filtered through bright green leaves and tiny white flowers. In a word- it was heaven. And It was yours alone.

Until the soft scent of freshly blooming flowers began to mingle with the scent of cigarettes and Irish Spring- a smell you were now beginning to instantly recognize as Eddie.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked airily, taking a bite of your sandwich as Eddie leaned against the trunk of your tree, arm dangling nonchalantly. He smirked down at you as he surveyed what used to be your private lunch spot.

“I was wondering why I never see you in the cafeteria.” Eddie supplied, glancing up at the abundance of white flower petals that dotted the branches of the tree above your heads. It wasn’t a big tree, but big enough to provide shade with a trunk wide enough that you rested against it comfortably. “Cozy little spot you’ve got here.”

You smiled to yourself, answering through your bite of cucumber sandwich. “Yeah… I love it out here. The only downside is how easy it is to lose track of time- I actually didn’t wear a watch until I started spending lunches so far from the bell.” Eddie snorted, plopping down next to you on the surprisingly comfortable patch of grass.

“I am amazed that you’ve been able to get through seventeen years of your life without ever wearing a watch.” he laughed before- to your horror- beginning to poke through your lunchbox. You swatted his hand away like you would an unwanted pest, but not before he was able to swipe the other half of your sandwich. Without pausing for even a moment, he bit into the soft wonderbread and before you could protest, he took a couple of chews then promptly screwed up his face and spat the wad of chewed-up sandwich at the ground.

“The fuck kind of sandwich is this?” Eddie practically screeched, inspecting the insides of your cucumber sandwich with the utmost scrutiny. He peeled the sandwich apart, grimacing and holding the food gingerly between his thumb and forefinger.

While you were certainly frustrated that he was currently mangling half of your lunch, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out through your words. “It’s a cucumber sandwich, it’s just cucumbers and this mix of cream cheese with a bunch of herbs and stuff.” Eddie’s grimace only grew into an expression of pure disgust with each word you said. “What,” you laughed harder. “You don’t like cucumbers?”

Dropping the remnants of your now deconstructed sandwich back into your lunchbox, Eddie shook his head and wiped his hands on his ripped black jeans. “What I like are normal American sandwiches. What do you have against a classic ham and cheese?”

You smirked, taking a bite from an apple you’d brought to accompany your sandwich. “I’m a vegetarian.”

A second ago, Eddie had been disgusted. Now, he looked appalled. “I’m sorry to break this to you, but I don’t think this friendship is gonna work out.”

There was a smile tucked into the outer corners of his big brown eyes, and you knew there wasn’t any real finality to his words.

You played along anyway. “Damn, another friend lost because of cucumbers.”

Eddie’s shoulders shook in a silent chuckle, smiling wide and leaning in closer. “Okay, well now I need to know what happened to the last one.”

“Choked on a cucumber.” you said without thinking, “It was tragic really, a devastating loss.”

Eddie’s eyes widened just the slightest bit, his lips curling upward slowly.. After a second, you realized the blatant sexual innuendo that one could easily derive from your joke, and once the realization set in you also found it difficult to hold your laughter back.

“I appreciate your restraint in not making a joke about that.” you bit out.

Eddie shrugged, throwing you a toothy grin. “It would’ve been too easy.”

You gazed up at the sunlight filtering in through the flower-studded branches and sighed, lips curling up to match the slyness of his grin. “You know what wouldn’t be easy?”

“Deep-throating a cucumber?”

Your grin grew, brightening your eyes and crinkling their corners. “Exactly.”

Eddie snorted, you cackled. The sounds were abrasive on their own, one guttural while the other sounded like the sort of laugh you only let out in front of family or friends who’ve known you long enough to refrain from judging you for how loud the laugh was. However, when combined, your mixed laughter sounded complete- like yours had been missing his and his had been missing yours, and neither had ever sounded right without the other.

Laughter subsided. Eyes met, flower-filtered rays of sun creating distorted bits of light across both of your faces. A bit of that light hit Eddie’s left iris at just the right angle, transforming brown into the sweetest honey.

Your breath stuttered, only slightly.

Eddie swiped the apple from your hand, taking a bite from the opposite side that you had bitten into only once. He relaxed into the tree’s bark, as if this were something you two did every day at lunch. Smiling, laughing, sharing food. You weren’t opposed to getting used to it.

“So,” Eddie said around the crunch of crisp fruit, “you hang out with Buckley, right?”

“Since we were kids.” you replied, a fond expression fluttering over your face. “You remember, she was there that Halloween where you attacked my bedroom window.”

Eddie’s hand rose to rake the hair back from his face, open-mouthed grin huffing out another laugh. “Oh man, that was so long ago,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That was Buckley? The bony-looking girl with the pigtails? OW!”

You gave him a jab with your elbow. “Rude! She was not bony!”

“Okay, fine, gangly-”

“She was an eleven-year-old!” You laughed despite yourself, shifting slightly to angle your face closer to his. “Everyone looks gangly at eleven.”

“You’ve got a point, you were pretty gangly.”

You sat up straight, eyeing him in disbelief. “There is no way you remember what I looked like when I was eleven. We didn’t even know each other back then.”

Eddie flopped over onto his stomach, balancing his weight on his elbows. “You always wore the same pair of red mary janes.” Eddie inspected the apple in his hand, twisting it in the light and admiring the way the sun shone on the waxy red peel.

“We didn’t exactly hang out, y’know… but I remember liking your shoes.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he smoothed his thumb over the red fruit. “They were this exact shade of red.” His eyes flicked up to yours, smirking at your expression which must have looked completely caught off-guard, because well… you were.

“I, uh… I almost forgot about those shoes.” you nearly whispered. “I loved them so much, I think I really did wear them to shreds. I remember being heartbroken when my mom made me throw them out, but the sole was literally peeling away from the rest of the shoe, they needed to go.”

You chuckled, shaking your head at Eddie’s astoundingly good memory. “How on earth do you remember those shoes?”

Eddie rolled over, one hand resting beneath his curls, the other still holding the apple aloft, letting it glint in the sun. “I told you, I liked them. Red’s my favorite color, you know.”

You pulled your knees closer to your chest, relaxing against the tree trunk with a comfortable exhale. “Did you ever have something like that? A piece of clothing or pair of shoes you loved so much, you wanted to wear it every single day, never cared if it was dirty or not?”

Eddie thought for a minute, then answered decisively, “This jacket, probably.” You inspected his jacket further, the black leather slightly faded but definitely in good condition. He obviously took care of it, the zippers on the cuffs shone silver in the sunlight, and while the material was beginning to crinkle at the elbows, the wear did nothing to diminish the quality of the piece.

“It’s nice.” you said softly. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen you without it since we started high school.”

Eddie smiled fondly, “My uncle Wayne gave it to me for Christmas one year. I must have been, I don’t know, fifteen? The thing was huge on me at first, but I’d say I grew into it nicely.” Stretching his arms up to the sky, he surveyed the dark leather until the face of his watch caused his eyes to bulge. “Shit, we gotta go, lunch ended five minutes ago.”

Frantically, you checked your watch too, cringing when you saw that he was right. Hurriedly, you shut the metal clasps on your tin lunchbox and a few seconds later, you were both on your feet and rushing toward the lunchroom doors.

“Hey, um-” Eddie said, “If you ever wanna sit inside, don’t, ah… don’t hesitate to-” you turned to look at him, a half-smile playing at your mouth at the sight of this brash boy suddenly stumbling over his words.

“You saying I can sit with you?” You supplied. Eddie smiled, his face unable to hide his relief that you’d read his mind.

“Well, when you ask so nicely, it would be a crime to deny such a request.” Eddie waggled his eyebrows to match his wolfish grin. You laughed, shoving him softly. You rolled your eyes when he opened the door for you, gesturing overdramatically for you to enter and bowing low as if you were an empress and he your humble servant.

“And I guess if you ever crave the peace and quiet of my lunch spot,” you drawled, “I wouldn’t be too inconvenienced by the company.”

Dark eyebrows drawn together by a crinkle and a sarcastically serious expression, Eddie clasped his hands behind his back while he nodded his head. “Oh and I would hate to inconvenience you.”

“I know you would.” you nodded, matching his energy effortlessly. Both of your serious expressions cracked to make way for soft laughter simultaneously. You both arrived at your lockers quickly, your steps rushed out of fear for being late to class. The two of you opened your respective lockers, and the sounds of metal opening and closing rang through the nearly empty hallways.

The moment you were sure yours was locked, Eddie called out “Hey!”, to which you glanced over your shoulder at him just in time for him to toss something in your direction, which you miraculously caught with ease. You looked down at your hand to see your apple, once bitten on each side. You quirked an eyebrow at your peculiar lunch partner.

“You can finish it, I ate more than you did out there.” you said, but Eddie was already walking away, hand in the air waving you off.

“Keep it, vegetarian, can’t have you going anemic on me.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “See you, Eddie.” He spun around, walking backwards with his hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground after flicking up to yours for barely a second. “See ya.” he muttered, and that smile that caused his full lips to quirk up to one side was starting to become familiar in a way that made your chest feel full.

Once you were out of each other’s sight, you turned the apple over in your hand, studying the bites on each side. You could see from the marks left by his teeth that Eddie had an overbite. That he must really like apples, because the bite was sizable, the opposite of tentative. You could see that the light shone a little brighter around the bite where the juice from the apple must have seeped out onto his tongue when he bit into the fruit. You felt a strange sense of warmth thinking about the flavor of this thing held in your hand still lingering in his mouth.

Taking one last look at your twin bites, you lifted the apple to your lips, adding a third bite between his and yours. The sweet juice from the apple flooded your taste buds, and you felt something within you hum contentedly as you raced to beat the bell.

***

The cafeteria on Thursday was buzzing with the noise and energy of a hundred antsy Hawkins teens. Eddie plopped his ass down at his usual seat at his usual table, reaching into his pocket eagerly to grab the two Slim Jims he’d swiped from the pantry before rushing out his trailer door that morning. He remembered to bring a lunch sometimes, but most often defaulted to eating whatever slop the lunch ladies had to offer… if it was edible. Today, he had taken one look at the styrofoam cup filled with what was supposed to be chicken pot pie (it looked more like jizz mixed with peas and carrots, complete with a square of pie crust floating on top) and knew he would just have to deal with a growling stomach until he got home from school.

He was just about to peel open the first stick of jerky when divine providence dropped a gift down on the table in front of him. He paused, surveying the shining tin lunchbox sitting on his table- black with a bright red handle, the logo for Star Wars spelled out across the front accompanied by the image of a TIE Fighter firing at an X-Wing.

Eddie’s friends were already seated with their lunches at the table, and he followed their confused expressions to see you crossing behind him to take the empty seat by his side. The entire table remained silent.

You proceeded to open your own lunch- a simple green and blue thermos that held what looked to be a mixture of beans and rice. You opened up the collapsible spoon that attached to the lid and looked about ready to dig in when you took notice of the deadly silence, as well as every pair of eyes trained on you.

You glanced at the flabbergasted teens, then raised an eyebrow at Eddie. “Didn’t tell your friends that you invited me to sit with you?”

Eddie’s eyes were wide still, but his open mouth turned up at the corners as he placed his hands on the Star Wars lunchbox, turning it this way and that under his appraising gaze. “Ignore them” He held the lunchbox up beside his face, puppy dog eyes shining in full force. “Is this for little old me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well yesterday, you pillaged my lunch because you’re obviously a starved dumpster raccoon,” you heard a snort a few seats down from you, though you didn’t look to see which Hellfire member approved of your sense of humor. “-so I made you your own. You can thank me by keeping your hands off my red beans and rice.”

“I didn’t know we’d have a guest joining us today.”

The voice came from the head of the table where Rick had just taken his seat. As the oldest member of the friend group, Rick had inherited the coveted spot at the head of the table. While Eddie loved Rick like a brother, he couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t just itching for the greasy-looking drug dealer to finally walk the stage in a couple months and bequeath that seat to Eddie. The rest of the guys already looked up to him- Hellfire was his, since Rick had never wanted any part in it, so from the moment he’d assumed the mantle of Dungeon Master last year, Hellfire had unofficially belonged to Eddie. Now, Rick was the only senior in their little group, so come next year- Eddie would be king of the table. It was small, and in the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter- but Eddie ached for that seat nonetheless.

You eyed Rick curiously, chewing on a bite of your rice and beans. “Eddie extended an invitation yesterday.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly toward the senior. “Was I supposed to fill out an application or something…?” Your tone was light, joking. Rick’s eyes took you in, and it irked Eddie a bit that Rick seemed to think he had some sort of final say about whether or not you were allowed at the table- this was just as much Eddie’s table as it was his, right? What did he care if someone new joined your group for lunch every once in a while?

Rick hmphed and relaxed into his chair, apparently deeming you worthy of keeping your seat. When he made no moves to answer your quip about filling out an application, you made a face and proceeded to continue eating your lunch. You leaned closer to Eddie, whispering to him out of Rick’s earshot “He always like this?”

Eddie smiled, toying with the shiny clasps on the Star Wars lunchbox. “Eh, he has his moments. But I am far more interested in what treasures lurk inside this box…” His thumbs flicked open both clasps, then looked suspiciously at you through his overgrown curly bangs. “This isn’t a mimic, is it?”

You snorted. “What?”

“Like, is this thing going to try and eat me when I open it?”

Judging by the chuckles from a couple other tablemates, there was some sort of joke you weren’t getting. You smiled wryly and shook your head. “No,” you laughed, “hopefully it’ll be the other way around, unless you have some kind of aversion to homemade chocolate chip cookies.”

Eddie’s eyes widened before practically ripping the lid of the lunchbox off its hinges. You laughed at the excited little gasp that escaped him when he saw the ziploc bags holding a ham and cheese sandwich, two cookies, apple slices, and a little juice box. Turning those doe eyes to you, Eddie held up the sandwich like it was a precious commodity.

“The vegetarian made me a ham and cheese sandwich,” he smiled. “Have I converted you to the dark side?”

You rolled your eyes. “I can handle touching it, I just don’t want to eat it.”

Oh. Oh that did not come out right.

Eddie’s lips pressed together, cheeks ballooning with a laugh that fought to breach the surface. You, however, couldn’t hold back a snort. You braced your elbow on the table, forehead resting in your hand as you shook your head in disbelief. “God, that one was bad.” Your shoulders shook, laughing at yourself along with Eddie, whose laughter had burst forth after you’d given him permission with your own self-deprecating humor.

Lunch flowed smoothly from there- the rest of the table fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, and you didn’t mind the jokes that went over your head, the way these boys discussed movies you hadn’t seen and asked Eddie questions about his plans for their upcoming Dungeons & Dragons session tomorrow. Before you knew it, you found yourself feeling comfortable at the Hellfire table. Eddie tore his way through the lunch you’d made him, even going as far as to moan dramatically when he bit into one of the cookies. He’d rolled his eyes back and thrown his entire weight in your direction, going limp against you as he chewed reverently on the sweet confection.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he’d groaned, a couple of crumbs falling onto his lapels. “Bury me in these cookies, I’ll die happy and regret nothing.” You’d laughed, struggling to shove him away while he made a show of dying dramatically only to resurrect, take another bite, then die again.

People didn’t usually pay attention to the “freak” table during lunch, but if anyone did happen to glance your way that day, they would hear laughter tinkling like raindrops on a tin roof; see the seeds of a friendship beginning to bud in the most unlikely of places.

A few minutes before lunch ended, you proclaimed that you had a question about last night’s homework and needed to leave a few minutes early for class. Eddie thanked you for the lunch, adding in a more serious tone that you really didn’t need to make him lunch and that he owed you for the cookies, to which you replied that he could thank you by giving you a ride home after Hellfire tomorrow.

“I was already planning on it.” he’d replied with a grin.

When you’d taken your leave of the table, Rick spoke up for the first time since your exchange at the beginning of lunch. “So is your girlfriend sitting with us going to be a regular thing now?” Other conversations at the table ceased, everyone’s curiosity piqued by Rick’s mention of the elephant in the room. Eddie Munson, bringing a girl to sit with his friends at lunch? This was uncharted territory.

Eddie bristled. “Who said she was my girlfriend?” he narrowed his eyes at Rick, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Rick leaned in, raising an eyebrow as his voice took up a teasing tone. “Oh you’re just buddies, huh?” Eddie nodded. Rick shook his head. “Nu-uh, nope. Not possible.”

Eddie scoffed, struggling to mask his irritation. He liked Rick- most of the time- but he wished his friend would just drop the subject. “Alright man, I’ll play along. Why?”

Rick smiled smugly, relaxing back into his chair and placing both hands leisurely behind his head. “Girls and guys can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.”

Jeff, a brace-faced sophomore sitting across from Eddie, muttered “They were being pretty friendly with each other-” The venomous look Eddie shot at him shut Jeff up before he could say any more.

Eddie turned back to Rick, his trademark smirk painting itself across his face as he matched Rick’s arrogant air. “What, Rick, are you so deprived that you don’t know how to be friends with a girl without trying to get in her pants?” A chorus of oooooo’s fluttered throughout the table, and Eddie felt a surge of pride when a flicker of annoyance flared behind Rick’s eyes. All it did was amp Eddie up even more.

“Unlike some men, I’m able to hold a civilized conversation with a woman without turning into a neanderthal and drooling like a dog.” Eddie crossed one leg over the other, shrugging his shoulders as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not just a man’s world anymore, gentlemen, I’m just keeping with the times.”

Rick shook his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of his faded denim jeans. “Whatever you say, man. But don’t tell me if she asked, you wouldn’t be all over that.”

Keeping his cool, Eddie shook his head and retained his cool composure. “Please,” he scoffed, “like anyone could handle all of this.” Eddie gestured to the entirety of his person, adding a hair flip for good measure. Even Rick couldn’t hold back his laughter at that.

“Yeah, you’re full of shit, Munson.” Rick chuckled. Eddie placed his elbows on the table, chin resting on his fists as he fluttered his eyelashes at Rick, who laughed even harder and gave Eddie a shove. The rest of the table also descended into laughter, and all was well now that the tension between the two oldest Hellfire members had subsided.

However, as Eddie exited the cafeteria with the rest of his friends, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Rick had said.

Girls and guys can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.

Was that true? It was such an archaic way of thinking in Eddie’s opinion, and he had no doubt that men and women were, in theory, perfectly capable of having sexless, platonic relationships with each other.

But could he? With you?

Eddie could admit that when he’d been a kid, he had felt those familiar pre-pubescent butterflies when you’d shoved him to the ground on Halloween all those years ago. But the confusing feelings of a thirteen-year-old boy and the effortless way the two of you had begun to fit together like puzzle pieces whenever you spent time together- they were completely unrelated.

Besides, Eddie remembered the conversation you’d had last week in his van. How you’d said if someone like him were to start seriously dating somebody at school, everyone would talk about it. A friendship might make the wrong people take notice of you, and if that happened Eddie would handle it… somehow. He didn’t want to see you go through the bullying he’d had to endure his whole life. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, much less someone he cared about.

It hit Eddie then… the strange fact that he did, indeed, care about you.

As a friend.

As long as things stayed that way, you could come and go from his little group as you pleased. You were free to be his friend when you felt like it, but could extricate yourself from him when it mattered. When it was dangerous to be a freak. You were safe that way; if by some crazy stroke of fate you decided you wanted more- decided to attach yourself to him publicly and seriously… Eddie couldn’t protect you from all the possible ramifications of a proclamation like that.

The decision had been made. As Eddie strode down the halls on his way to class, he concluded that he would be your friend. That you would be his, as long as that was what you wanted. And the sex part would never get in the way, because it would never even be an option. Even if he ever wanted that… he would never act on it. And there was no way you would ever want that either, so it would never be an issue.

That was that.

***

That night, you baked more chocolate chip cookies. You doubled the recipe to ensure that there were not only enough for every member of Hellfire to have at least two each during the session tomorrow, but also enough for Eddie to take the rest home.

And for some reason, you couldn’t wipe away the stupid little smile that kept slapping itself onto your face whenever you imagined Eddie biting into one of those cookies tomorrow, eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned about how good they tasted. Your cheeks warmed when you wondered if he would once again jokingly go limp against your shoulder, pressing into you with the full weight of his body.

If he did, you weren’t sure you’d want to push him away this time.

Part 3

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #friends to enemies to lovers #when harry met sally #eddie x reader #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

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