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#And that's how she cried for the first time
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Hi Inês,
Can I request a blurb with dad Lando x Matilda Norris?
Reader goes out for the evening with her friends and Lando has to help his daughter with her homework. And they both end up crying over it because neither understand what are they supposed to do.
I imagine it's math homework (but it can be any kind of homework that's worth crying over, it's up to you 😭)
Note: as someone who isn't innately intelligent, there have been many homeworks that were worth me crying over, but I went with math because that was definitely the one where I shed the most tears 😭)
"Matilda, time for your homework", Lando called from the hall, stepping into your daughter's room and sitting on the chair next to the desk, "we promised mum we would take care of it so let's get to it", he rubbed his hands.
Math had never been his strong suit, but until the third question he was just about fine, looking at the examples and guiding Tilly through it to get to the final answer, checking it at the end pages of the notebook.
"Now, for this one, you have to solve it for both y and x, so you have to choose one to go from and then stick to it before it goes about the same and there's only one letter", Lando explained as Matilda looked at the numbers on her notebook.
It was numbers and letters and she couldn't make sense of them, tears brimming her eyes as anytime she thought about doing something, it didn't go far before she had the chance to write anything down.
"I can't do it", she let out, wiping her tears with her hands, "I don't get it", she mumbled.
"Hey, sweet girl, it's okay", he cooed, rubbing her back and pulling her to him, "we will do this together, Tilly, no one is supposed to get this at the first try", he comforted.
No one is supposed to get it at the first try, and it seemed that at the fourth try, neither could Lando.
"But how did they get the 4? There's not a 4 anywhere here! I'm number four", Lando cried as he brushed his hair to let out the nerves.
"It's okay, dad, I'll just ask the teacher tomorrow, or mum when she comes back", Matilda offered.
"We should call aunt Cisca then, she's very smart - she's the brains of this family, she should know", Lando sniffled, putting his sister on FaceTime.
"Hey guys! How - why does it look like you have been crying?", Cisca said as she looked at the camera.
"Math homework", Matilda and Lando sighed at the same time.
"Turn the camera around so I can see if I can help - it must be bad if it got you to tears. I take is Y/N isn't home?", Cisca mused.
"Yes, she isn't home and everything is falling apart at the seams", Lando retorted.
"It's not like it's our fault, dad - this is hard", Matilda said, pulling an upset Lando into her and hugging him.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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afterglowkatie · 9 hours
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everything will be okay | l.w.
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leah williamson x reader | 1.6k | leah takes care of you after you tear your acl
ˏˋ°•*⁀acl mentions :( i had the base of this written when i was out from basketball for a long time with an injury so it seemed fitting to turn it into a leah fic
Leah couldn’t help but feel bad as she watched you struggle to get around on crutches. She knew how it felt and couldn’t help but feel like she was responsible for you ending up like this. You and Leah were at training, running through your usual drills when you had been running after the ball trying to stop Leah from reaching it when she gave you a little bump. That little bump where you had lost your footing slightly was all it took for a sudden sharp pain to tear through your leg from your knee. You cried out collapsing to the ground while holding your knee. Having gone through this already Leah’s stomach dropped and she was quick to get you help.
Leah was there by your side the entire time, refusing to leave no matter who it was trying to tell her that she didn’t need to be there. You were grateful to have Leah there holding your hand through every scan and test that needed to happen. Leah was there to hold you and wipe away your tears while your heart sunk and the world became a blur when you were told you had torn your acl. Leah kept you grounded
This last year you had seen many of your teammates go through this injury, and with helping Leah through it, you knew how the next year was going to go for you. Though nothing could prepare you for how it actually felt to go through it. It had been about four months since having torn your acl and nothing was getting any easier. You were convinced everything was getting harder, if that was even possible. 
You hated having to rely on those around you, even if they constantly reassured you that it was fine and they were happy to help you. And to top it all off you still hadn’t figured out how to properly use the crutches you were given. Your frustrations towards your injury kept growing but Leah was doing everything she could to take care of you and make sure you were okay. You were sure that she had stopped going out as much and seeing her friends just so she could stay home to take care of you and make sure your recovery went as smoothly as possible. 
It only added to the frustration and guilt you felt. You weren’t used to being so dependent on others. Though you never complained and never wanted to seem ungrateful because you were immensely grateful for Leah’s help. Just by being her and being around you it would make each day so much better. She was the only thing that could bring you happiness in your current state.
Today was another day that drained even more of your already quite low energy and mental strength. Another day of rehab and physio and another week of being told your recovery wasn’t moving along as fast as you had hoped. You knew it wasn’t right but you couldn’t help to compare yourself to the others that had already gone through this. Comparing your recovery to theirs and wondering what more you could be doing to be at the same place they were around this time. 
In your rational mind you knew that everyone’s bodies were different and everyone took different times to repair and recover. It still didn’t stop you from feeling like you were falling behind. Every time your potential return to even just running again got pushed back it took a big toll on you mentally. Afraid everyone was going to give up on you the longer it took for you to recover, afraid that you would get replaced and not have a spot in the team to come back to. It was bound to happen soon that you would also give up on yourself.
‘Here let me,’ Leah got out of the car once you had returned to your apartment, going around to your side to help you out of the car. Taken back when you pushed her hand off of you, not used to you refusing any help.
‘I can do it,’ Your words came out more harsh than anticipated. It was the first time you had spoken to Leah since your session and her training had ended. Leah wasn’t hurt at your tone, just surprised. After all, she knew better than anyone what you were going through. She understood how hard this sort of injury can be mentally, especially on a player at the peak of their career just like you were. Finally having made your way into being a regular in the starting eleven, to have an injury to this extent where you would have to eventually prove yourself worthy of that starting line up once again.
Leah watched as you struggled to get out of the car and inside the apartment, taking a step back knowing a little bit of space is what you needed. Though she desperately wanted to help you and make your life easier. You let out a frustrated groan as you sat on the edge of your bed, haphazardly throwing your crutches down on the floor next to you before dropping your head to rest in your hands.
‘Baby,’ Leah whispered out softly while she slowly approached you, ‘talk to me, please’ Leah was concerned. You could tell and hear the desperation that laced her voice while she gently took your hands in hers and pulled them away from your face. She had been there the whole time, seeing how you had recently started to withdraw from everyone around you. Your arsenal teammates asking Leah how you were doing since they had stopped hearing from you. Leah knew you were struggling. You didn’t want to confide in anyone, feeling like you were already enough of a burden having to rely on someone now.
You knew that Leah understood how you were feeling and it should be easy to confide in her, but somehow that made it all harder for you. You shook your head and closed your eyes tight, refusing to look in front of you. Leah sighed softly, standing up to sit next to you on the bed, wrapping her arms around you and gently pulling you into her side, ‘I’m here for you,’ You didn’t know why but hearing Leah utter those words had you breaking down instantly.
‘Le,’ You cried out softly, tears pricking your eyes as you remembered what you had been told earlier that day, ‘It’s going to take longer than we thought,’ Your voice was barely above a whisper. Dropping your head so it was laying against Leah’s shoulder looking down where she was absentmindedly playing with your fingers. The softness of her hands against yours had started to calm you down, though it didn’t stop the thoughts racing around in your mind, ‘What if I never fully recover. I don’t think I can handle never stepping onto the pitch again, never getting to be back with the team,’ 
‘Oh baby,’ Leah sighed out, a sad smile on her face, thankful that you were finally talking to her about how you were feeling, ‘You’re so strong, stronger than you think. You are going to be okay. Everything will be okay. Don’t think too much about the future and try to take each day as they come,’ 
‘I’m scared, Le. I don’t want to lose all of this. I don’t want to lose the team and I don’t want to lose you,’ Your teammates at arsenal and Leah were some of the most important people in your life. You dedicated most of your life towards football and if it suddenly disappeared from you, you didn’t know what you’d do without it. What good were you to your friends if you couldn’t play again.
‘You won’t lose any of this, any of us. You’re smart babe, if you can’t return as a player I’m sure there will be another way you can still be involved in football,’ Leah smiled while holding you close to her. Her hands giving yours a little squeeze, ‘And you definitely won’t lose me,’ Leah leaned close to give you a small kiss on your cheek, one that had your frown turning into an almost instant small smile.
‘How can you be so sure?’ Turning your head to look up at Leah, feeling your cheeks heat up seeing how softly she was looking at you. Your smile takes over more of your face the longer you both look at each other. Leah was happy to be seeing the smile she loved so much again. 
‘Love, arsenal we’re like a family and you know that. Families don’t just throw each other away just because we’re injured. You aren’t the exception, everyone loves you. Though I obviously love you the most,’ Leah gave you a soft kiss on your lips, ‘You couldn’t get rid of me babes, even if you tried,’ Leah playfully squeezed your sides while you let out a small chuckle at her words already feeling a lot better than you previously had been.
You stayed wrapped in Leah’s embrace, enjoying the way she felt comforting and safe. The day had taken a lot out of you, so much you had forgotten to eat until your stomach loudly reminded you. Leah laughing and lightly poking at your stomach, ‘How does some food sound?’
‘As long as you’re not the one cooking it,’ Leah feigned hurt at your words before you both fell into an uncontrollable laughter. 
‘Don’t worry, I have my personal chef on speed dial,’ Leah held up her phone showing your favourite restaurant's name already up on her screen. You just shook your head at her, burying yourself even more into her side. As long as you had Leah there by your side you felt as though you could more willingly accept the help that Leah and your friends gave you. You’d learn that you aren’t a burden to anyone. And most importantly, no matter where you were at with recovery even if you were to never fully recover, you would be okay. Everything will be okay.
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communistchilchuck · 3 days
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I was asked to help share Maram's fundraiser. She is a young displaced Palestinian mother urgently raising money to evacuate she and her family from Gaza. She has only raised €225 out of her €30,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!
From Maram's GFM:
‏Hi, my name is Maram. I am 28 years old. I am a Palestinian from Gaza City.A mother for 3 kids. This is my husband, Ahmed, and my children are Habiba, four years old, kareem, two years old, and Mohammad, nine months old. ‏My family and I went through very difficult circumstances in Gaza after October 7th ‏
It’s painful to say that we lost everything. But yes
we did! We lost our beautiful homeland with all its memories, we lost our job, we lost our lives and our dreams. We evacuated our house with only a small bag of clothes before it was bombed and destroyed. So technically YES we have lost EVERYTHING, from the biggest to the smallest little detail.
We have been displaced 6 times. My children left our home for the first time and moved to another home, and then we moved with the family to another, less safe home. Then the army ordered us to flee to southern Gaza, so we fled to the ground, then we ended up fleeing to a small tent and sleeping on the sand. ‏
My family suffers from a lack of food, especially ‏the children. My child, Mohammed, who is 9 months old, ran out of breast milk due to malnutrition, and the price of infant formula has doubled. Kareem and Habiba saw the simplest thing that could be available to children, which is apples, so they screamed and cried, wanting an apple, but the price of one apple reached 10 dollars or more!! ‏In addition, there was also a lack of healthy drinking water, which caused them severe stomach pain and diseases such as hepatitis A.
‏Due to the conditions imposed by the occupation, the siege, and the lack of resources, it has become difficult for my family to provide the children with basic and simple needs, such as diapers. It is difficult to provide all the needs, and due to the poor quality of the types of diapers available, my children suffered from a skin problem ‏ My family also suffers from not having a bathroom or even a shower. We can only shower once a month using a bucket due to lack of water. There is no electricity or gas either. ‏Every morning, I wash my children's clothes in cold water and spread the clothes out in the open air. If there is food, it is cooked on firewood, which is completely unhealthy and tastes bad. Me and my husband shared a beautiful life together. Our home was always filled with love and laughter. My children are the most precious thing I have in my life. ‏ Our lives were once full of dreams and hopes, but the never-ending cycle of conflict in Gaza shattered those dreams. Now our only goal is to survive. ‏ While others dream of the future, we long for the past, remembering the life we once lived before the horrors of war tore it apart.
‏I have hesitated to ask for financial assistance for several months, but the reality is that life in Gaza has become impossible in the near future. With schools destroyed and opportunities disappearing, our only chance for a better life lies beyond these borders. ‏ My only hope is to save my little family and we need €30,000 to make it out of Gaza, to start a new life from scratch. It is very difficult to leave homeland, but we are forced To get out of Gaza. Your kindness can make a big difference to us. Your donation, no matter how small, will help us escape the constant fear and uncertainty that has plagued our lives for so long. If you're not able to donate, simply sharing our campaign with your friends, family and social networks can also have a huge impact. ‏Together, we can give my children the opportunity to grow up in a world free of the horrors of war. Your kindness will help us build a brighter future and restore hope to a family that has endured so much suffering. ‏ Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your sympathy and support! Your contributions will not only change our lives, but will also provide hope to countless people affected by similar circumstances.
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presleyanswrites · 3 days
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Hey I got a request for jj
That jj is a single dad to a baby girl and he is to scared to hold because he will think he will drop her and John b everyday will try and get jj to hold her then one day jj was holding her on his chest then he takes her everywhere With him hope that make sense
Koala Care
dad!jj x fem!reader x daughter
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a/n ahh this is so cutie! thank you for the request anon, love you bunches!
desc JJ holds his baby girl for the first time
wc 1.2k
warnings cursing, grammar, fluff
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"Peaches?" JJ comes in through the back door of the chateau, carefully shutting it behind him as he walks through the kitchen to set down a box full of baby supplies.
The usual. Diapers, baby food, her favorite yogurt melts, more of his old band & surf t-shirts to wrap her up in.
He notices Aria crying her eyes out behind him in between the white rails of her bed. he must have forgotten to change her when he left. He also noticed it was pissing off John B who was trying to work on something probably useless and he caught the hint that he's been listening to her cry for at least an hour.
"Shit," he mutters, messing with his backwards hat as he turns his attention away from Aria for a split second to glance at John B. Turns out he was fixing a cooler for the boat.
"Bro." he goes over to him, kicking him in the leg slightly, "You seen Y/n? I really need her help knowing what measurements of tit milk I'm supposed to feed mini me."
John B rolls his eyes to the ceiling as he screws in the side of the cooler handle.
"First of all," he says through a gritted tone from a bolt in between his teeth.
"You gotta stop with the teenage boy, language wording shit."
He spits out the bolt and screws another nail into the bottom.
"You're like a dad now. Its your dick and your daughter, buddy. You really want your kid to go around saying, tit milk?"
JJ tuts. "Bro she cant even talk yet. Plus, I don't remember half the shit i said as a fucking baby. Maybe thats cause my dad probably beat the shit out of me where I like- lost half my cells, but i ain't changing. Plus, daddy will raise her to be the best hooker of man kind. Shes a Pogue, shes not gonna be a goody two shoes if my life depends on it."
John B turns his head around and gives him a look.
"Jesus Christ JJ, did anything click when your girlfriend popped a living thing out of her ass?" He purses his lips.
JJ points his lips downwards and shrugs.
"Or are you always gonna be known as the dad who raised a stripper?" John B rolls his eyes again, taking a weird clear plate out of his box, "Y/n is a doctor for fucks sake, she's the only hope for raising her I swear to God."
John B shakes his head, "I've told you everyday now. You haven't even held her yet."
JJ grips his hat, "Thats because im gonna drop the kid!"
John b slaps his forehead.
"You're litterally her DAD, JJ! Y/n popped a baby out of her kitty sack and you seriously didnt even touch her the day she was born." John B raises his eyebrows. "Do you remember that? Y/n cried in Kie's room FOR AN HOUR thinking you didnt want the kid!"
JJ opens his mouth to respond then stops.
"Whatever. Go back to fixing your cold box and shit," He turns his back to walk away.
John B changes the tip on his screwdriver, "You're gonna have to hold your own ass daughter eventually, dude."
"I hope you screw a nail in your dick!" JJ calls out and tuts again, mumbling under his breath, "teaching me how to handle my own kid..."
"im the one fixing this goddamn cooler so you can drink your shit ass blue moon chilled!" John b yells back, JJ opening the door and slamming it shut to try and find you again.
"y/nnnn," he groans, calling out your name, finding you sitting on the steps outside.
He kneels down and wraps his big arms around you, kissing the side of your head gently.
"Hi baby," he mutters, "How was work?"
you felt your head pulsating before forcing yourself to give a response.
"Hmmm fine. it was busy."
"Yeah?" he strokes your head, "Real quick."
You sigh slightly, "Hmm?"
"how much ti-" He stops, and clears his throat.
"How much milk do I need to feed Ari?" He says in a soft voice, knowing you had a blaring headache from your shift.
You exhale, leaning your arms on your knees.
"theres about 7 oz in the fridge."
He nods, "thank you sweets," he kisses your hair one last time before leaving you in peace to rest your mind.
He goes back inside the chateau, opening the fridge and taking out the bottle, reaching over Aria's crib and putting the tip to her mouth.
"there we are, sweet girl.." he holds the back of her head while she drinks gently, her cries settling down.
After Aria is finished, he stares at her for a moment.
Why was it so hard for him to hold his own daughter? He feels a wave of guilt floods over his spine.
He reaches his hands out, then stops.
"God damnit," He sighs.
"Okay." He stares at Aria one more time. "3, 2.."
"Fuck this."
He picks Aria up gently in his arms, his heart jumping as he does so.
"Holy shit," he breathes. "Oh my God."
He holds her to his chest, making sure to support her back, something he learned in a parenting book he found online as he feels his soul melt in his stomach.
"There we go," he coos softly, rocking her up and down gently.
"Hi love." he holds her up to look in her eyes with the biggest grin on his face.
"You have your mommas eyes, don't you?"
It's like he fell in love with you all over again. Just this time, it was a baby. And it was his baby.
He holds her to him again, hearing you opening the screen door to come back inside the chateau as he looks at you with the stupidest smile on his face.
"JJ.." you breathe, a grin full of your white perfect teeth filling the room as you jog over to him.
You rub his arm gently as you stare at Aria in JJ's arms.
"im so glad." You said, tears slightly filling the bottom of your eyes as your breath catches in your throat.
"She has your eyes," He repeats the observation he made earlier.
You nod with a sniffle, chuckling slightly.
"She has your lips."
JJ presses another soft kiss into the side of your neck.
A few days later, you noticed that JJ dorkily bought one of those baby carrier things to attach to your chest, and you had to admit it was pretty cute seeing Aria giggle with him, taking her everywhere he went.
John B was relieved her finally built up the balls to hold his kid, and if you were honest, you were relieved too.
Kiara bullied him everyday for taking Aria with him everywhere because the baby holder he chose was literally hot pink. Really hot pink.
He was so happy everyday. To be the dad that he never had. The one he had prayed and wished for everyday as a kid.
JJ was such a tough guy, tough face, tough love, tough soul.
but I guess not when it came to you and Aria. You and her were his new world and there was nothing in the entire universe that could take that away from him.
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☆ divider & gif credits to @viixcyre @baby-bearie
my navigation ♡
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nanaslutt · 1 day
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short little Kenjaku x Jin smut in honor of chapter 257... ^.^
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
Kenjaku gripped the sheets between her fingers, biting hard on her lip and Jin repeatedly bottomed out inside her, all the while shoving her head into the pillow. The weight of his body on top of hers and the pressure Kenjaku was feeling in his head due to how rough he was being was making his head spin. "You like that? Sure, are being loud." Jin grits through his teeth, his eyes rolling back in his head when he thrusts against a particularly soft spot inside his wife. 
Kenjaku smiled and nodded hastily, drool spilling from the corners of her mouth as she tried to look at her husband out of the corner of her eye. "M-mhmm." She moaned back, thrusting her hips against his ass. Jin groaned and grabbed the fat of his wife's ass harder, his eyes dropping to where the two of them were connected. "Fuuuuck." He groaned, stilling his hips as he allowed Kenjaku to push her hips back against him, fucking herself on his cock.
"Does that feel good?" She moaned, her question slipping off into a moan when he slowly started thrusting his cock inside her again, meeting her hips halfway. The man behind Kenjaku groaned, nodding his head as he stared at her cunt sucking his cock in, enthralled with how tight it felt and how hot the white ring of cum pooling around the base of his cock looked.
"So fucking good, god you're so fucking good." Jin praised, pulling his hand back only to land it harshly against her ass the next second, making Kenjaky cry out, her cunt clenching like a vice around Jin's cock at the unexpected sensation. Jin pulled his hand back from his wife's head and grabbed the other side of her ass with it, immediately starting up his brutal pace again that now felt even harsher due to him using her ass to pull back against his pelvis. 
Kenjaku felt tears well up in her eyes as she gritted her teeth, her arms shaking with how hard she was gripping the sheets. "G-god!" She cried, her jaw falling slack as her cunt pulsed and spasmed around her husband. Jin nodded and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, feeling his balls throb with the need for release. "You like it when I get rough, huh? Like feeling me deep inside you?" Jin groaned, leaning over her body, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at his wife's pretty face, screwed in pleasure.
"Yes- yes- god- Jin-" Her voice sounded the same as it did when they first met, when she called his name for the first time. Jin was delusional, he knew that, but how was he supposed to let her go when she was perfectly well in front of him like this? More than well, she was crying and screaming in pleasure in front of him. What? Was he supposed to ignore her and leave her high and dry just because she wasn't exactly the same as when he first met her? Hell no.
"You gonna cum from this, my love? Gonna make a mess all over me while I fill you up?" He groaned into her ear, wrapping his arms under her body, feeling her soft, warm, alive skin under his large hands. "Yeah, give it to me Jin, make me cum." Kenjaku cooed, rubbing her ass back against his pelvis, making his cock jerk around in her walls, his eyes rolling back in his head at the stimulation. 
Sure, he might be a little delusional, but when Kenjaku seduced him with his wife's face and voice, there was no way he was going to push her away. After all, because of Kenjaku, they were finally able to have the baby they could never have before. 
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murdrdocs · 2 days
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I just want them to beg for my touch, to have them so stupid that they would beg for even a hand job, but I also want them to look at me as if I'm a goddess as I ride them, as if I personally put every single little star in the sky (and yes, this is about the subby men)
sub!stiles stilinski; handjobs; begging; MDNI 18+ w/ STILES STILINSKI
stiles' teasing nature always melts away as soon as your hand lands on his crotch. if the roles were reversed, and you melted as quickly as he did with just the slightest touch, stiles would tease you relentlessly. he would mock you as he said something along the lines of "my girl is always so needy, isn't she?".
and it feels so good to be the one saying that now. pouting up at him almost cynically as you stroke over his boner with the lightest touch. "my boy is always so needy, isn't he?"
you don't realize just how far gone stiles is until he doesn't feed you a reply that is just as sardonic. instead, he stares blankly at you, the only signal of life existing behind those eyes being the way they flicker from your own eyes to your lips over and over again.
you drop the act just a bit. just enough to not be mean. but you're still a little rude about it. not in the way you push forward and press your lips to his. not in the way you pull his pants off and spit into your palm before circling his cock with your palm. but in the way you almost give him what he wants.
you pump his cock with perfectly crafted strokes. and just when he starts to get into it, when his head falls back and his breathing turns all labored, you take your touch away. you kiss his neck, you tap your fingertips against his leaking head.
it's surprising how you don't even have to tell stiles what to do. he starts begging on his own volition. not as sweet and desperate as you would have wanted. at least not at first. but when it comes, it's so worth it.
you're between his legs, kissing around his thighs and torso. missing the spot that literally cries thick fluid for you every single time. until up above you, you think he might cry too.
he expels his desire verbally instead of with secretion.
"please. pleasepleaseplease. i'll do anything. just touch me, please?" it would be downright evil for you to deny stiles when his begging is so pretty.
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flowerandblood · 3 days
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The Fall from the Heavens (25)
[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: angst, tension, anxiety, a lot of half-truths ]
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[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard
Author note: For the purposes of this story, Lord Rodrik Arryn had a son and an heir, who in turn has a son of his own, to whom our Lady Strong was betrothed. I invented the lullaby in this chapter, so if you think it's weird, thank me, lol.
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
After what he heard, he just vomited, unable to stop the convulsions that were squeezing his stomach, the rapid pounding of his heart or his terrified, ragged breathing. He could feel tears of despair and fear running down his cheeks as he coughed once more, panting heavily over the vessel − he felt like his whole body was twitching.
You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most.
You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again.
You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.
He felt his stomach twist again in pain at the mere memory – he leaned over the bowl, feeling the gag reflex shake his body once more, but nothing left his throat.
He cried out loudly as if he were a small child, covering his face with his hand, leaning over the table, thinking about how much he needed his wife right now.
How much he wanted to snuggle between her soft, sweet breasts, to feel her smooth, warm hands stroking his hair, her heart beating beneath his cheek.
He drew in a loud breath, reminding himself that he had left her alone and that any moment spent in this disgusting place could have been her last; he reached for the cup of wine, rinsed his mouth a few times and spat the contents into the bowl, washing his face with fresh water, trying to calm himself.
This was part of their game, he thought, feeling his terror slowly begin to be replaced by fury.
He was sure Larys Strong had made her say it because he wanted him to believe that what was to come was destiny, not his and his grandfather's plan.
They wanted to manipulate him, to force him to leave her, to strip her of his protection, to destroy her.
No, he thought.
He was no longer a small child.
He left the fortress feeling that he had again unwittingly become the cold, empty stone he had been for eight years when she had not been with him, recognising that he had to keep a cool head.
He could not allow himself to be weak now.
He knew that if he just looked at her, if he just saw her face again and remembered what that woman had said to him he would simply burst into sobs, so to her disappointment he pretended not to see her.
The journey to the Eyrie, although spent in full sun and short, was unbearable for him and dragged on endlessly; he felt that waves of thoughts, suppositions and versions of events flowed through his mind one after another, causing complete chaos in his head.
What if Rhaenyra did not agree despite his lie?
What if she agrees, but demands the head of his grandfather and mother?
Whoever he was, his grandfather was his kin, his blood; all his life he had fought for them and their rights even if he himself often despised him.
How should he behave in such a situation so as not to let her down?
To fight? Declare war on them? Let her decide for herself once again which side she would stand on this time?
He pressed his forehead to the front of his saddle, clenching his hands on the ropes he held in his fist, feeling that he was descending into madness.
As they landed in the valley below the fortress he slid off his saddle, thinking that he had to share his plan with her, lest she accidentally say something herself that might destroy their credibility.
"− uncle −" She began, walking towards him, her face all pink and sweaty from exertion, unruly strands of her hair clinging to her skin.
His heart pounded harder.
You will come back here to face your nephew and you will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.
You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.
He swallowed loudly, feeling that his vision was blank, his hands clenched into fists.
"− we'll tell them you're expecting my child −" He said coolly, sidestepping her, heading ahead, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible − he heard her draw in a loud breath as she moved immediately after him, terrified, trying to keep up with him.
"− what? − Aemond, we can't lie, not now −" She muttered, clearly terrified by this vision − he pressed his lips together into a thin line, furious that she was making this all even more difficult.
"− they must agree to our terms − I will not discuss my decisions with you −" He growled impatiently and stopped when her silhouette appeared in front of him – her palms slapped against his chest, a fury in her eyes that startled him.
"− you will − you don't know them as well as you do − Daemon can sense the lie, he will see it in your eyes − do you think that once they understand that you are manipulating them they will agree to whatever conditions you set for them? −" She asked with an irritation in her voice that he didn't like; he felt a cold sweat on his neck at the unbearable thought that she was partly right.
Fuck.
He stared at her for a moment, breathing heavily, feeling like he was about to faint, another disturbing thought flashed through his mind.
What had that whore said to her?
"− that fucking witch − what did she say to you? −" He asked uneasily, wanting to be sure she wasn't trying to manipulate his wife the way she was trying to manipulate him.
His Rheanys blinked rapidly and swallowed hard, as if his question made her uncomfortable − he felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach at the sight.
"− that we should not return to Harrenhal − that I should watch out for myself and trust no one −" She muttered, and he felt his heart stop.
That we should not return to Harrenhal.
That I should watch out for myself and trust no one.
She warned her.
Why?
He felt that he understood absolutely none of this; the woman's behaviour seemed to make no sense to him, but that wasn't the worst of it.
The worst part was the thought that perhaps she really believed what she said.
That perhaps she really did see his betrayal and what he would do next in her dream or in the fire.
He stood watching her like a small, frightened child who was afraid to tell a parent that he had stolen and destroyed their favourite book unwillingly, who was afraid to admit his guilt for fear of punishment and what it entailed.
She must have seen what was happening to him in his gaze because she walked over to him and touched his upper arms, her scent, the smell of vanilla reached his nose.
"− husband, what happened? − if you have doubts, let's discuss everything − but please don't close yourself in the fortress of your mind −" She muttered pleadingly, her voice warm and calm, soothing, as if she understood that he was afraid.
That thought, the realisation that she knew him well enough that he couldn't hide from her what was happening inside him made him feel even worse.
He thought she would loathe him forever.
He swallowed hard as she cupped his cheeks between her hands and closed his eyes, feeling himself tremble all over, focusing only on her closeness.
"− uncle − look at me − I am your ally − I always have been −" She whispered tenderly making another wave of heat and fear surge through his body at the same time, causing something inside him to crack.
"You're your parents' child too. Just like me. What will you do when one of them demands the other's head?" He asked coldly, feeling his heart pounding like mad − he felt like he could hear in his ears the fast pumping of blood through his veins.
His wife furrowed her brows, shaking her head as if she did not understand what he had just said to her.
"− I will never agree to this − despite what your grandfather and your mother did to me, I will not agree for them to be harmed if you assure me to do the same − you know that I am not driven by revenge − and you? − you are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down − yet I remain faithful to you − I chose you, uncle, when will you understand it? − when will you understand that there is no other way for me but by your side even if I come to burn? −"
She said in a trembling, angry, breaking voice from which a shiver ran down his back; he looked at her in disbelief feeling his body filled with guilt and shame.
You are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down.
She was right.
She welcomed him with open arms despite the fact that he hadn't answered her letters for eight years; she didn't show him any kind of resentment, she didn't demand an apology from him, she lavished him with understanding and tenderness when he needed it, wanting to make things right.
It was he who betrayed her when Aegon became King.
It was his mother who forced her to drink the moon tea.
He was the one who made her try to take her own life.
He was the one who kept her locked up like a prisoner.
And yet, it was he who perpetually accused her in his head of the possibility of betrayal, as if he was just waiting for it.
For an excuse to decide that this was never going to succeed.
Despite this, she was now standing in front of him, being on his side, willing to fight alongside him for a future for them.
He felt a squeeze in his throat at this realisation, at the thought that there was never any other way for him than the one that would always lead him to her, to his beloved, to his friend.
To his Rheanys.
He lifted his hand, in some subconscious gesture of tenderness and closeness placing an unruly strand of her dark hair behind her ear, looking at her pretty face, at her bright, shining eyes, at her long lashes, at her swollen, moist lips − everything that belonged to him, that he could take every night.
He felt his manhood twitch in his breeches at the thought.
"Can I kiss you?" He heard her whisper and looked at her, seeing that she was staring at him exactly as she had then, that day when she had come to his chamber as a child, holding a small book clutched to her chest in her hands.
He leaned towards her without a word and closed his eyes, sighing in relief when her plump, soft lips pressed against his in a sweet, sticky kiss; she pulled away from him, stroking his cheeks and hair with her hands, but it wasn't enough for him.
"One more time."
He moaned into her mouth and locked her in the tight, strong embrace of his arms as her lips pressed against his again, this time as if she wanted to devour him, her wet, swollen lips sucking and licking him making him completely hard; he felt the lust, the hot feeling he shared with her shake his body as his eyes involuntarily filled with tears at the thought of what he had heard.
You will take me, because you will decide that I am similar to her enough to satisfy your pain and longing.
You will put your child inside me.
But he wanted her.
He wanted his childhood friend.
His lover, his companion, his joy.
She filled his heart with herself so much that there was no room in it for any Visenya.
"I love you." He muttered helplessly, feeling the words leave his throat without the participation of his free will. "I've always loved you."
He felt her gasp loudly at his words as her body trembled in his arms; his heart squeezed tight with pain as she wept quietly.
"− I feel that some weight has crushed you, my beloved − it covers you like a heavy black cloak − but I am by your side − I am with you − trust me − I know how to speak with them, I know them −" She mumbled out looking at him with a hot gaze full of affection from which he felt that nothing mattered anymore, that he couldn't fight himself or what only she could do.
He was completely helpless against her.
"− will you be by my side even when all is lost? − even if there is nothing left but darkness? −" He asked in a breaking voice, and she smiled, so sweetly, tenderly, joyfully that his hands clenched tighter on her body.
"− yes − don't go the path I could not follow − let me stay by your side − if I am to leave this world, I want to die in your arms −" She whispered softly, and he felt that it was over for him, that whatever he had been thinking about a moment ago, it didn't matter.
"− so be it − fall with me −" He breathed out, before his lips pressed greedily into hers, his fingers digging into the material of her leather coat enclosing her in his tight embrace, their tongues colliding with each other, licking with their soft sighs of pleasure.
He thought, panting hard into her throat, caressing her with a loud click of their saliva, that he could take her now, on the grass, in front of everyone, and fuck her so hard that the whole Eyrie would hear.
This, however, did not happen.
The sight of her would-be betrothed was the last thing he wanted to see − Ronnel Arryn seemed to him to be a boastful and self-obsessed man, focused only on the tonnage of his muscles and how he presented himself.
His grin full of mockery which he threw back at him, looking at the left side of his face made him involuntarily think how pleasant it would be to just slit his throat.
He remembered why they were actually there when they walked into the circular chamber where his uncle and half-sister were waiting for them − he pressed his lips into a thin line seeing that his sister-whore dared to wear his father's crown on her head.
He said nothing.
As his wife threw herself into her mother's arms, he glanced at Daemon; his uncle stood back leaning lazily against the wall, his chin lifted slightly in some sort of challenge, a lazy, mocking smirk on his face.
"Let's sit down." He heard his sister's voice at last, but he had no intention of obeying her orders; so he stood, looking at his uncle, who also had not moved from his place, stroking the handle of his Dark Sister thoughtfully.
"My husband has conveyed to me that my brother-usurper wants to pact over the succession of the throne he himself has unlawfully taken. I must admit that this is a quite ridiculous situation." Rheanrya began, and he rolled his eyes, feeling frustrated and impatient. His wife threw him a quick, frightened glance − he, however, just looked at her, letting her speak.
He decided that he would trust her.
His niece grunted loudly and looked at her mother, adjusting herself in her seat, tense.
"My uncle, Prince Aegon, had no choice. His mother is deeply convinced that her husband, my grandfather, and our King, revealed his final will to her before he died. She mentioned to my uncle about the Prince who was promised, about Aegon's dream. I think she misunderstood him, mother, I…" She paused as Rheanyra looked quickly in Daemon's direction − he and his wife exchanged quick, shocked glances between themselves.
He furrowed his brow, feeling discomfort in his pit, wondering what they knew that might have escaped his attention.
Her mother looked at her again, some strange glint in her gaze.
"Mother?"
"Aegon the Conqueror's Dream. A Song of Ice and Fire. This is the prophecy my father spoke to me about. Whatever Alicent heard, it did not apply to her firstborn son." She said in a trembling voice, as if it was obvious to her.
He felt rage at the thought that their father had shared with his daughter some prophecy, a future that was to befall their lineage, but did not consider them, his sons, worthy of the privilege.
Humiliation, shame and anger surged through his body making his words involuntarily leave his lips.
"You mean to say that our father only conveyed the contents of this prophecy to you, but you don't believe my mother that he could have passed on to her that he changed his mind regarding the succession?" He growled, his sister and uncle throwing him quick, warning glances.
"Calm down, nephew. You are speaking to the Queen." Daemon reminded him, and he looked at him with rage.
"She is not my Queen." He hissed, his hand sliding down to the hilt of his sword when he saw Daemon's fingers tighten around his Dark Sister.
"That's enough. We have met here because Aegon realises, as you do Mother, that his and your children's rights to the throne will be challenged, and the war will not end with your death." His wife interjected, startling him as did the rest of those gathered, his heart began to pound like mad.
What?
"Are you undermining Jace, my firstborn son's right to the throne?" Her mother asked in a trembling tone, clearly not believing what she was suggesting.
Her daughter drew in a loud breath and swallowed hard before answering her.
"He's a bastard, mother. Like me, Luke and Joffrey, he cannot inherit the throne. Will you cut off my tongue for those words? Will you deprive me of my head, father?"
He looked at her with his lips slightly parted, feeling that his mind was not yet able to comprehend fully what she had actually done.
She continued, however, as if the words were pouring out of her like a river.
"We just lie and lie and lie until in the end we ourselves don't know where the truth lies, but it is there somewhere, always, and sooner or later none of us will be able to deny it even if we beheaded all the men in the Seven Kingdoms."
He felt a surge of satisfaction and warm affection shake his body at her words, at her proof that she understood him, understood his pain, understood why her brothers could not be heirs to the throne.
How could he ever doubt her?
Her mother and stepfather seemed as shocked as he was, unable to get a word out.
"How dare you say such a thing? Your father, Laenor Velaryon, has recognised you and your brothers as his heirs. He gave you his name, he recognised you as his child in the eyes of the kingdom." Her mother muttered, clearly heartbroken that her own daughter was challenging her words.
"But the whole Kingdom knows, mother. Even if Jace were to sit on the throne after your death, his lineage will not be forgotten. Are you prepared to die knowing that neither he nor his children will ever be safe? That, like my uncle's coronation, his coronation would also be challenged by lords across the Kingdom?" She asked in pain, as if she herself could no longer bear what was happening, how far they had gone in pretending what was the truth and what was a lie.
He thought that he himself would not have put into words better what he thought and acknowledged with pride that his wife was a great speaker.
That even he would have hesitated and reconsidered what she had said if he had heard the arguments spoken in this way.
"I know what humiliation you experienced, mother, and how much suffering you endured. Believe me that I did too. I, too, do not believe my grandfather would change his mind on his deathbed. I did not and do not recognise Aegon as King, nor have I ever called him that or given him the honour he deserves.
However, if we do not find an agreement, war will break out not only in the Realm, but in our family. This is what King Viserys wanted to prevent at the last supper before his death. Mother, after all, you are siblings. Your brother, though a traitor, extends his hand, he is ready to relinquish the crown he stole from you."
An awkward silence fell; Rhaenyra looked over her shoulder at her husband, apparently seeking his advice. His uncle stared at her with clenched lips, clearly believing that she should fight for her rights no matter what − even at the cost of war.
His half-sister looked at her daughter again and swallowed hard.
"I can consider the terms my husband has conveyed to me, but I also have my conditions. I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.
You and your husband will share the power of the Kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.
In addition, my husband and I will sit on the Small Council, and deprived of their seats will be your grandfather and Alicent. In addition, Otto Hightower will be stripped of all other functions and privileges and will reside under our oversight in King's Landing.
Jace will inherit Dragonstone as my first-born son. If no male heir is born to you, the official heirs will be the children from my and my uncle's marriage, pureblood Targaryens."
He stared at her wide-eyed, feeling the cold sweat on his back, his heart pounding like mad as his mind tried to quickly analyse what he had heard.
I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will only become ruler-regent if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.
You and your husband will share power in the kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.
She wanted the kingdom to be ruled by two kings.
She wanted him and her daughter to have the same title, the same privileges.
He saw his niece look at him, her eyes big with terror, filled with fear of how he would react.
No, he thought.
She was no longer her daughter.
She was no longer a bastard.
She was his wife.
When he had covered her shoulders with the cloak with his family crest she had officially taken his name, and who her father was no longer mattered.
Although he knew that the name her mother had given her was different, to him she was Rhaenys.
Rhaenys Targaryen.
His childhood friend, a woman he trusted, respected, loved, whose opinion and letters he had held deep in his heart for years, whom he would have consulted if he had become king-regent anyway.
The thought that she would stand by his side, that she would help him carry this burden, that she would be like a second, necessary pillar to support the whole crumbling structure that was their family, filled him, to his surprise, not with frustration but relief.
He nodded his head.
His wife sighed quietly, looking at him with hope, turning her gaze to her mother. Rhaenyra's eyes welled with tears of grief and sorrow as she nodded, sealing her decision.
She had agreed.
Gods, she agreed.
"Pass on my words to my brother. Let him know that this is not just about my pride, but about the welfare of the Kingdom and our family. That I respect my father's will and hope that he will do the same." She said dispassionately and he nodded, feeling his whole body quiver with emotion, his hands clasped behind his back clenched into fists.
"You are surely exhausted. My cousin has prepared chambers for you where you can rest to set off on your return journey as we will tomorrow morning. Let us have supper together. I have been separated from my one daughter for too long." She said matter-of-factly and he swallowed hard feeling that he had completely frozen.
No.
None of them could stay here.
He couldn't propose that they fly to King's Landing knowing that they would surely disagree, so in desperation he proposed something that shocked everyone, including himself.
"No." He said coolly. "We'll spend the night in Dragonstone."
His niece beamed all over, her cheek blushing with happiness, as if she didn't believe his words.
"Do you mean it?" She asked sweetly like a little child to whom he had just given a wonderful surprise.
He felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought.
"Yes." He replied calmly, glancing at his uncle, who was squinting, watching him intently. "As an expression of my goodwill."
Daemon tapped the tip of his tongue against the wall of his cheek and hummed under his breath, a tense silence fell between them.
His wife was right.
He had the feeling that his gaze was piercing him to the core.
He muttered under his breath and looked at his wife − Rhaenyra, like his niece, seemed shocked by his proposal, but also pleased at the prospect of her daughter returning to her family home, if only for a while.
"Well���I see no objection. Daemon?" She asked her husband, who looked at his daughter. Apparently, something in her pleading gaze made him decide to remain silent for the time being, as he merely nodded his head in wordless agreement.
He closed his eyes and sighed quietly in relief, feeling a huge stone fall from his heart.
He stepped back, allowing Rhaenyra to leave, just behind her the room left Daemon throwing him one vigilant, mocking look telling him that he knew there was something more behind his words.
His wife, however, overwhelmed by excitement and joy, seemed not to notice it − she ran to him and snuggled into him, clasping her hands on his back, his arms immediately enclosing her in a tight, secure embrace.
He hadn't betrayed her.
He would never betray her.
So why did he feel so guilty?
"There are no words in which I can describe my gratitude to you. "She whispered, burying her face in his chest; he sighed heavily, pressing his lips to the top of her head, stroking her soft hair and neck with his fingers.
"I'm proud of you." He said calmly wanting her to know that he admired what she had done, the calmness in which she had presented his side's reasons while showing understanding and respect for her mother's rights and heritage.
He thanked the gods that he knew when to shut his mouth.
She looked at him and smiled shyly, as if his words surprised and embarrassed her. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, pressing her soft lips to his, and he murmured low, feeling a tightness in his throat.
He should tell her, he thought with pain, but he didn't know how.
He didn't want to spoil this beautiful moment.
So he kept silent, but the guilt, the fact that he was hiding something from her, pressed down on his shoulders like a huge burden, through which he could experience neither relief nor satisfaction that Rhaenyra had agreed to their terms.
He never expected to fly through the skies beside Larax, Caraxes and Syrax, to ever see Dragonstone, to propose a journey there of his own accord.
He felt shame filling him.
As he and his wife stepped inside their fortress, where their children were already waiting for them, an awkward silence ensued. Jace and Luke stood behind a large stone table that resembled the shape of all of Westeros, looking at him in disbelief and horror. He shuddered when he saw that Rhaena was the first to rush ahead, sidestepping him and her father, enclosing his wife in a sincere, tender embrace.
"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice – his niece stroked her back with a smile.
"Me too." He heard her whisper.
After a moment, Baela joined them, throwing him a cold, warning glance along the way, from which he only rolled his eyes. He looked again at Luke, who swallowed hard and lowered his gaze, clearly unable to bear his presence.
He felt disgusted at the sight of them, two boys with cheeks flushed from shame, who knew full well that they did not and should not have any claim to the throne.
He grinned involuntarily at the thought, seeing how pale Jace was, that he understood for certain that their presence meant he would officially cease to be his mother's heir.
Satisfaction as sweet as poison coursed through his veins at the thought.
Jace drew in a breath at the sight of his grimace, his hands clenched into fists as if he felt like lashing out at him − he flinched when Daemon stepped in front of him, standing between them and shook his head.
Jace swallowed hard, furious, lowering his gaze to the stone floor beneath his feet.
None of them came up to greet his niece; only little Joffrey ran up to her and burst into tears screaming that she had left them alone.
They resented her for the side she had chosen in their minds.
She was the only reason they were both still alive, he thought with a sneer.
His half-sister, seeing the look on his face and sensing the tension that reigned around them, decided to take pity on them and suggested that they make themselves comfortable in the chamber that had previously belonged to his wife.
He accepted her words with relief.
As they stepped inside he felt a squeeze in his throat − her quarters were modest, filled with her scent, the windows of her room facing the open sea, the sound of which he could clearly hear. He walked deeper in, looking around her chests of drawers and wardrobes, her wooden bookcases filled to the brim with books, before his gaze finally settled on an ornate oak desk.
He swallowed hard imagining her seated figure bent over parchment.
"− is this here? −" He asked casually, running his fingers over the table top, noticing with a pained heart that it was dusty.
A sign of how long she had not been here.
His niece looked at him surprised and blushed, as if the mere mention embarrassed her.
"− yes −"
He sat down in the chair she sat in every time she wished to convey her thoughts to him, to put them on paper, which then flew all the way to King's Landing to reach his hands. He glanced towards the windows, wondering how many times she had deliberated on choosing the right words while observing exactly the same view.
He thought he was touched.
"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said softly, her voice trembling with excitement and joy.
She couldn't believe she was home again.
He nodded, not knowing what more he could answer.
He had felt the tension all evening; his wife had shown him various books she had read over the years, which she had told him about in her letters. He tried to listen to her and nod, stroking her arm with the tips of his fingers as she sat beside him, flicking through page after page of one of the volumes, looking for the quote she had mentioned to him. Her question pulled him out of his musings.
"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −"
He looked at her horrified and swallowed with difficulty − he only grunted, not knowing what he should answer like a child caught in the act.
"I'm tired." He replied acknowledging that this was partly true. She nodded in understanding, he closed his eyelids as her hand gently stroked his cheek.
"Let's go to bed."
He wasn't going to fight her.
He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible and get away from Daemon's disturbing gaze.
His wife pressed her lips together, seeing that he had put a dagger under his pillow before he lay down − however, she said nothing, knowing he might trust her, but certainly not her family.
He lay down beside her, sighing heavily, and closed his eyes, figuring that perhaps when he woke up the next day and realised that tragedy had been avoided due to his decision, his conscience would have a little more mercy for him.
He murmured contentedly as he felt her arms embrace him, cuddling his face between her breasts, the warmth of her body, her scent filling his entire lungs. He tightened his hands on her back, trying to focus only on the touch of her hands, on her fingers combing gently through his hair, on the lullaby she hummed softly under her breath, and from which his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
When the moon rises
over the dark sky
When you hear from afar
my bitter cry
Know that I long
Know that I long
Know that I long
When the sun rises
over the bright sky
When you hear from afar
my joyful cry
Know that I'm home
Know that I'm home
Know that I'm home
And then sleep fell over him.
His lips clung to her soft, long neck, sweaty from exertion, heavy, drawn-out sighs full of pleasure left his lips as his hips with sure, deep, quick thrusts pounded again and again into her hot, fleshy interior.
"− forgive me − I've missed you − oh, my sweetest −" He breathed out, quickening his pace, sinking his nose into her dark curls, her moans muffled by the pillow she was cuddling her face into. Her body, though different, was just as warm, her scent, though different, was similar to hers.
It didn't matter to him, because she was there for him, because she had forgiven him.
"− I love you − oh fuck, Rhaenys −" He muttered, clenching his eyes, coming inside her at last, experiencing such immense relief that he cursed for another moment, rocking his hips inside her. He swallowed hard, worried that she wasn't saying anything, his fingers took strands of her hair from her face wanting to see her eyes and then he saw it.
Green irises, luscious as grass.
"− is it true? − is she carrying your child? −" He heard her voice as if from afar and suddenly he was standing in front of her in his chamber in King's Landing, feeling his heart pounding like mad, a cold sweat running down his back.
He felt a strong gag reflex and held it back with the remnants of his strong will.
He couldn't get anything out of himself.
What had he done?
"− answer me − is she carrying your child? −" His wife, his Rhaenys muttered in a voice breaking with pain and despair, her cheeks red from tears, her eyebrows arched in rage, in her gaze something he feared most.
Disgust.
"− I − I don't know −" He mumbled, trying to remember what had actually happened, how he could have done it when, after all, he had promised himself it would never, never happen.
He thought about how he hadn't touched her in so long, how he had missed her so much.
When she discovered that he had hidden the truth from her, what his grandfather had planned, that he knew what could have happened to them in the Eyrie but hadn't told her, she hadn't slept in his chamber, hadn't eaten supper with him, hadn't spoken to him or looked at him even though he had tried so hard to please her.
"− don't you know? − don't you know if you put your bastard inside her? −" She mumbled and burst out into a loud, miserable sob, hiding her face in her hands − he looked at her, panting hard, shaking all over, not knowing what he was supposed to say, what he was supposed to do.
"− HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!? −" She almost screamed, falling to her knees as if without strength, whining loudly like some kind of animal, her whole being trembling and twitching in convulsions − he approached her quickly, kneeling beside her, trying to touch her, but she pushed him away.
"− my beloved − please − I was possessed by madness, I swear − I − I thought it was you −" He muttered, not knowing how he could explain such a betrayal, such humiliation she suffered because of him.
"− you thought it was me? − you fucked another woman and thought it was me? − gods, Aemond, don't touch me! − don't touch me −" She howled, her voice at once enraged, full of pain, suffering and grief, her eyes red with tears, her whole body quivering.
He was the reason for this.
He had done this to her.
"− my Prince − my Prince, quickly, your wife! −" He heard someone shout – he shuddered as he sat by the fireplace, gazing in horror at the figure of the guard who had rushed into his chamber.
As he stepped out into the corridor he heard someone's loud sobs and screams tearing at his heart; as he ran inside he froze noticing the figure of Rheaenyra kneeling on the floor, covering her mouth with her hand − his wife, and her daughter, was hanging from a rope tied to the frame of her bed, which was tightened around her neck, her dark hair covering her bowed head, her feet not touching the floor.
He ran to her trying to lift her, trying to pull her down, but he knew, felt, that it was too late, her body cold, numb, empty.
His face sank into her flesh covered only by the material of her nightgown muffling his loud, desperate scream.
"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!"
He opened his eyes and pulled himself up to sit down, panting heavily, feeling his heart pounding like mad – he could see nothing through the tears that one by one ran down his face, his body twitching all over in convulsions as if it had gone into a state of absolute panic.
"− easy, my love − breathe −" He heard someone's voice beside him, her voice – he looked at her as if he didn't recognise her, her eyes wide in terror, her hand stroking his shoulder reassuringly.
"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled out like a small child calling out to its mother, bursting into sobs of relief and terror that shook his body − he snuggled into her breast, clasping his fingers on her back so tightly that she hissed in pain – however, she did not push him away and her arms enclosed him in a tight, secure embrace.
"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She whispered, again and again placing warm, moist kisses on the top of his head, combing her fingers through his hair.
For a moment he merely wept and quivered, unable to catch his breath, trying to calm himself, listening to her whisper, breathing in her scent, enjoying her closeness, the touch of her hand.
It seemed to him that it was hours before he began to breathe normally, before he realised that all he had seen was just a nightmare, that he was lying with his wife in her bed in Dragonstone.
That all was not yet lost.
He swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut.
"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −"
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days
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Just Friends?
Eddie is your older, sexy next door neighbour. You're instantly smitten with him but with the countless women that you see leave his trailer dreamy eyed and lovestruck, you don't have a chance with him? You're just his friend right?
Warnings; Older Eddie, minors shoo, fluff, jealous Eddie. Friends to lovers, Comfort, Pet loss (anon who sent me the request to write about this, I'm sending you all the hugs and positive vibes in the world ❤️)
💌🎀❤️
Eddie Munson is your older, gorgeous neighbour and you're pretty sure he could never be interested in you. He dated beautiful women all the time, you saw when they left his trailer dreamy eyed and already hooked on him.
You'd hear the giggles and their moans every night while you sat on your patio and tried to ignore the noises, ignoring the tightness coiling in your gut and the envy you felt.
How you wished that it was you that held Eddie's attention. The two of you did talk a lot and you had been over to his for a beer quite a few times but he wasn't interested in you romantically.
He had been such a good friend to you since the two of you met. When you first moved here, about six months into your stay your sweet kitty had passed away.
She had hidden herself away in a corner of the room, wouldn't come out no matter how much you tried and it devastated you.
Eddie had seen you in tears one day and you had poured your heart out to him about Missy, he was kind and so sweet with you. For a little bit he just listened as you cried, then he pulled you into a big hug and told you everything would be okay.
"It will be okay sweetheart, I promise you. Every day the hurt will get a little bit better. You'll still miss her but she's here with you always, in your heart and in your memories" you managed to nod through tears and the words had given you hope.
Eddie helped locate Missy who had sadly passed, he was there for you as you through every step, from taking Missy to the vet, to receiving her ashes in a little wooden box that you kept on your nightstand with a picture of your sweet kitty.
Every day Eddie helped you smile even if it was just for a little while, gave you hugs when you needed them and had even drawn a portrait of Missy from one of your photos of her. Something you could remember her by.
The drawing was beside Missy's picture and her ashes and you treasured it. One small act of kindness but it had helped you heal a little bit of your heartache.
Through all of that it was then you realised you had fallen for Eddie.
Eddie who only saw you as a friend.
Eddie who pops his head around your door as you cook some dinner that night, he smiles warmly at you and it flusters you.
"Something smells good princess, can I join you?"
Fuck, he was sexy. His hair was in a bun, he just came home from work and he's in his overalls, there's a smudge of grease on his cheek that you'd love to wipe off.
You fight the urge and heap the pasta into a bowl for him, add the homemade garlic bread and some salad. He lets out a small contented sigh as he settles down and begins to eat.
"I picked a movie when I was coming home from work, want to watch it with me sweetheart?" he suggests to you and you nod. He always picked the best movies.
Once food is consumed you follow Eddie into his trailer and wonder if he had a date tonight? Wouldn't he rather be with them then hanging with you?
Then again he wouldn't have invited you if he thought that. "Don't you have a date Eddie?" You ask curiously and hope you're not prying too much.
"Nah, thought I'd rather hang out with you princess, see some friends" you nod. Of course, friends. That's all the two of you were. At least you definitely know where he stands now.
Maybe it was time for you to have some fun. You deserved to have some fun and it's not like Eddie was ever without attention from women. Maybe he would be protective if you dated someone as a friend.
You watch as Eddie laughs at a certain part of the movie, his dimples on show and his eyes lighting up. He was so perfect it hurt but if he only saw you as a friend then you'd be the best friend he ever had.
💌🎀
Due to your decision you find yourself going to a party that your friends invited you to. It wasn't often that you left the comfort of your home to go to a party nowadays but you figured if anything would help you get over Eddie it would be getting yourself out there.
You're dressed up for the first time in ages and feel really good. Eddie is relaxing with a beer and talking to his friends when you head out of your home.
He chokes on his beer a bit and it flustered you, "Do I look okay?" You ask anxiously and Eddie's big brown eyes are wide as he takes in your appearance.
"Okay" he chokes out and Steve rolls his eyes and smiles at you. "You look beautiful honey" thanking Steve you wave goodbye to Eddie and you're pretty sure his eyes are on you all the way.
💌💞
You wake in the morning with a slight hangover and the hot guy from last night just leaving the shower. His name was Jerry and he was exactly what you needed at the time, just one night where you didn't think of your god of a neighbour and who he was with.
Jerry doesn't stick around and to be honest you don't want him to. Last night was fun but you weren't looking for a repeat performance. You follow Jerry to the door, saying goodbye but startle when you see Eddie outside your door and looking pissed.
His eyes narrow as he looks at Jerry, his big brown eyes flash with something you can't place. You can't help noticing how unbelievably gorgeous he looks but then he opens his mouth and ruins everything.
"You know I couldn't sleep last night because of you and the lover boy here" you frown confused and your heart skips a beat. Was he jealous?
"Um..." You don't get to say much more because Jerry hastily makes an exit and Eddie's vicious gaze follows him.
"Pussy" he mutters and you scowl. What was wrong with him? He speaks again before you can question him and it sends annoyance pulsing through you, once you hear what he has to say.
"All night I heard you and that idiot all over each other, people do have work and shit you know" you reel back from Eddie stunned. The two of you had never traded cross words and now he was giving you shit for doing something he did most nights?
No fucking way.
"Are you serious Eddie? I hear countless women and their moans and giggles all through the night and I've never said shit about that...yet you have the gall to bitch to me when I bring a guy home?"
His pissed looks melts away just a tiny bit and you walk towards him seriously annoyed at this point, "Let me be clear Eddie. You don't get to give me shit when you've driven me nuts for weeks" he blinks startled then grins. He actually grins.
"You're beautiful when you're angry you know, I mean you're always beautiful but I like seeing you all fiery" this disarms you for a second but you soon wave it off.
"Don't you try and charm your way out of this Munson, your pretty eyes and sweet talk don't work on me" well the pretty eyes did but you wouldn't tell him that.
"I was telling the truth" he replies seriously and you hide your smile. Damn him.
"The only woman I've ever wanted to notice me was you princess" he finishes that sentence and then tugs you to him and kisses you deeply. Your brain short circuits for a few seconds before you kiss him back.
Then you pull away and shake your head. Nope, no way were you being some notch on his bedpost.
"I'm not doing this Eddie. I'm not being another woman that you just conveniently forget about after you get what you want" he looks exasperated and gently tilts your head up to look at him.
"You aren't listening to me sweetheart. I'm totally fucking crazy about you. I don't want anyone else, just you" oh.
Despite the joy you feel you can't help but be a bit frustrated. "You have a funny way of showing it Eddie" he nods and his eyes soften as he squeezes your hand.
"Didn't think you felt the same. I should have asked I know, I'm an idiot". Fuck, you thought that Eddie didn't feel the same about you. Both of you were idiots.
"Well, maybe you can make it up to me later? Your famous Mac and cheese and maybe..." You trail off and find the courage to kiss him this time. He responds eagerly, pulls away to kiss your forehead and beams.
"It's a date princess"
💞
Tag list @whysodelirious08 @ali-r3n @lilrubles @yourdailymemedelivery @marvelcasey05 @melodymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @sadbitchfangirl @mylovelycrazyworld @exploding-bonbon @deamours @costellation-hunter
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grimm-writings · 3 days
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watching a lot of stardew videos lately (despite having the game) and daydreaming a lil...
"laios i need some copper, can you head to the mines?"
laios, who's already been in the mines since dawn: wgat
chilchuck isn't too into the game at first but once he sensed Themes coming from the existence of joja mart he was determined to see the empire topple.
marcille wondering where falin is this time (she's foraging somewhere and passed out on the way home). she probably also cries when every bachelor(ette) rejects her for the flower dance and she just had to WATCH.
senshi would be so goated at the game though... how is bro this efficient.
izutsumi is the cat marnie gives you actually. that's her role here.
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faerygrant · 2 days
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Heya i didn't know how to make a request but would you maybe consider doing a carmy x reader situ where donna meets their baby/toddler Valentina for the first time after not knowing about the pregnancy etc super angsty but with fluff/comforting smut at the end w/carmy
sunday
summary: Sunday lunch with Carmy and Valentina goes south when a certain Berzatto makes an unwanted appearance. [reader meeting Donna for the first time: here]
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Apprehension did not even come close to describing the feeling Carmen Berzatto felt when he’d found out he’d be a father in 9 months. 9 short months. He’d be responsible for a tiny human being, who he feared in some way he’d let down. He was fucked, from his childhood all the way into adulthood, he was fucked. Thanks to his mother and his father and in some way thanks to his brother.
He didn’t want to scare you, so he tried to play it cool when you’d first broke the news to him. But that afternoon when he’d kissed you goodbye and got to work, Carmen headed straight for the stockroom where he locked himself inside and cried. He didn’t care about you seeing him vulnerable, if anything you were the only person he was okay being vulnerable around, it was just that he didn’t want you to feel like you’d done anything wrong, that you’d inconvenienced him, because you hadn’t. He wanted this, in some way. I mean he’d been the one to constantly tell you he wanted you to have his babies, the one who pumped you full almost every other night, the one to whisper pleads asking you to be the mother of his children and his wish had finally come true.
So Carmen wiped his tears dry and decided he wasn’t going to repeat the same cycle that his parents had. He had you and you were going to be a great mother and that’s how he knew there was no way your kid would ever be fucked up like him. He had Pete as an example, hell even Richie and he was going to take a page out of their book to try and be the best dad to this kid.
-
If Carmen thought those nine months had flewn by, he wasn’t ready for the first year of Valentina’s life. She’s grown so fast that at times he almost couldn’t believe it. Hit so many milestones he wasn’t even aware babies could. Her first little smile that she gave the two of you after her bath time, the first time she picked up her head all on her own, the first time she said dada, which had literally left him a crying mess. Some nights were sleepless, some miserable but everyday that he got to hold his baby in his arms and see that gummy smile of hers, he knew it was worth it. Carmen couldn’t thank you enough for making him a dad and everyday that he couldn’t put another one in you drive him nuts, but he understood that you were still adjusting to motherhood. You’d been such a trooper and Carmen never failed to tell you how proud he was of you, and he meant it.
Today was a Sunday, meaning the restaurant was closed and Carmen had insisted to take the two of you out for a little lunch in the neighbourhood, a treat for you since you’d been cooped up at the house with Valentina all week. Valentina was sat in a little high chair, face round, her chubby cheeks covered in strawberry as her tiny fingers played with the fruit on her plate. Carmen watched in awe of his little girl before he’d turned his head to take a peek at you inside the restaurant. You’d gone to grab napkins for your messy toddler and Carmen couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest man ever. You were smiling at the female attendant as you stood there in your little sundress, hair tied in your usual mom ponytail with your signature pink ribbon. Just as he watched you make your way back outside he watched as a random woman had approached you.
The woman had held onto your hand but you were quick to pull your hand back and quickly shuffled out of the restaurant. Carmen was confused to say the least, as he couldn’t make out of who it was from behind. Just as you made your way to the table, Carmen could tell by your face that something was bothering you.
“Who was that?” He asked, watching as you took your seat and started to wipe the fruit residue from your daughter’s face.
“Carm I- it’s no one.” The hesitation in your voice was alarming him and his anxiety was already starting to creep up on him.
“What do you mean no one, tell me?” He insists.
“It was…”
“CARMY?!” Donna Berzatto’s off putting, grating voice sounds from behind you and the only thing you can see is the way your husbands face falls at the sight of his unruly mother. Her hair was shorter than normal, her usual eyeliner was smudged and he could tell by the look on her eyes that she’d been drinking.
“Ma, what the fuck are you doing here?” Carmen’s face completely drops, his face is tainted red and you can see his hands instinctively reach for your daughter’s tiny leg.
“I was just getting a drink what are you do-” Donna’s sentence isn’t complete when she notices the tiny baby sitting in the highchair. The baby that was half you and half her son. For better or for worse, her granddaughter.
“Wh- who is this Carmy?” She points towards Valentina who was now growing agitated in her chair at all the attention and commotion.
“Ma not right now okay, I’ll call you.” Carmen tries to cut off his mother, reaching for Valentina who was now crying due to the unruly stranger who had intruded on her lunch.
“Wha- is that my grand baby, you didn’t tell me you were having a baby- or had a baby?” You’re sat there in embarrassment, not wanting to even think about where this conversation was going, part of you was also annoyed that she’d ruined your lunch and startled your baby.
“And for good fuckin reason, you’ve made Val cry now, some grandmother you are.” Carmen seethes as he rocks Valentina in his arms, trying to calm her.
“No one loves me in this family, my own son hides my grand baby from me and you, you little whore, I always wished he’d married that nice girl Claire instead. You stole my son and then withhold my grand baby from me?”
“Donna, you’re making a scene right now, please stop this” you finally say but Carmen is passing Valentina to you and grabbing his mother away from the table. Onlookers from the restaurant all murmuring and whispering, the embarrassment killing you on the inside.
“This is the reason why you couldn’t know about her, you disrespect my wife everytime you’re given the chance to come around and then cause a fucking scene. You’re never going to be in my life, let alone my fucking kids life.”
“Carmy please, it’s your mother you’re talking to. I love you, it’s just her trying to turn you against me.”
“Enough already, it’s not her Ma it’s me. I don’t want you anywhere near me or my wife or my kid, because everything you touch you destroy and I won’t have you fuck up any other person that I love. What Mikey killing himself wasn’t enough? Destroying Nats self esteem not enough for you? Fucking me up for good? You wanna do it to another kid?” Donna’s eyes fall in realisation and before Carmen can get in another word she’s running from the restaurant.
-
“Vals down for the afternoon, knocked right out” You say softly, making your way to Carmen who was sat at the edge of your bed, hands in his head as his arms rested on his knees.
“S’good, think she’ll remember any of that?”
“Carm she’s only 1, she can’t even remember what she ate for lunch, no way she’ll remember that.” You rub his arm softly and he places his head into the crook of your neck, his curls tickling you.
“God, I just don’t want to fuck her up, I’d never forgive myself” he lifts his head to look you in the eye and you can’t help but pity him.
“Carmen there is no way you’d ever fuck her up, you’re such a good daddy, you’re literally Valentina’s whole world. She lights up at the sight of you, her first word was literally Dada.” He laughs at that, finally cracking a smile for you, those beautiful blue eyes gleaming.
“Thank you baby, you’re a good mommy.” He kisses your forehead, his big hands cradling your head.
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pascal-princess · 2 days
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[ playing dangerous ]
a/n: this is my first ever fic so pls be kind!! also not proofread so any mistakes i apologise.
— warnings : dark fic (18+), joel isn’t what you think in this, domestic abuse! (not joel), drugging, dom!joel, big!joel/small!reader, age gap (not mentioned but it’s there, around 26 years), kidnap if you squint ig. + plus tommy.
“Joel it’s all kickin’ off next door man”
Tommy’s voice filled his ears through the phone as he sighed… not again… surely.
“What this time?”
“It’s that dude, I ain’t gotta clue what his problem is but she’s gettin’ the brunt of it yet again” Tommy’s eyes scanned through the blinds that were peeled apart by his fingers, peering into your window trying to get a good visual of what was going on.
This had been going on for the past few months, your boyfriend Rick had a bad gambling addiction… and based on his results you’d either get pounded brutally into the bed as his victory celebration, despite your cries. Or… like today; a hissy fit which every time without fail, resulted in bruises and tears, as his anger at his loss seemed to be all your fault.
This time; tommy could hear the heavy thuds of furniture being thrown across rooms, and twinkles of glass that smashed beneath your feet. He could hear the soft whimpers and sobs that left your body as Rick practically screamed at you.
“it’s all your fault you fuckin’ bitch, you make me do this”
“Joel what do i do, man? I can’t jus’ leave er’”
“Stay where you are, I’m comin’ home”
Joel hung up the phone and got into his pick-up truck and began the short drive home; he knew you were a sweetheart, a soft innocent angel who wouldn’t hurt a fly. You always smiled at him and even once baked him cookies, which he admired for a good few days before throwing his diet out the window, consuming the gooey chocolate chip delights you made. He couldn’t understand why you stayed, why you let Rick treat you the way he did. He also couldn’t understand how Rick could treat you such a way.
Maybe you were secretly an awful person, he thought… or hoped. Because the thought of someone as kind and caring as you receiving the exact opposite just because of the fact that you won’t fight back killed him inside. He refused to admit the feeling of jealousy that ached inside of him; but he often thought of what it’d be like to hold you at night, to be the man to make you smile, to wipe away your tears instead of being the dick that caused them.
His anger grew more and more as he approached his driveway, speeding up a bit as he swerved in and pulled to a halt, the tires screeching against the concrete. He threw open his door and made the short walk to your front porch, knuckles thumping against the wood as he waited for a response… that was when he realised… silence.
He banged again and called your name this time, willing you for a response. You could’ve heard a pin drop, and it was scaring him.
He was just about to kick the door down when he heard the lock of the door flick, and watched as it slowly peeled open, too slow.
“Joel?” your cracking voice called his name and he could’ve burst into tears himself.
“Sweetheart, ya’ alright?” he pushed open the door a little more to get a view of your face, and god he wished he hadn’t.
“Honey” He sighed, eyeing the swelling bruise that imprinted itself onto your cheek, the redness of your face from crying just intensifying it.
“Joel, please just go” you kept yourself hidden, yes, Rick was gone. He walked out as soon as he was finished releasing his stress, with the words “i’ll be back later” but you still felt the quivers of fear make their way through your body.
“I can’t do that, you know i can’t” His hands were placed on his hips as he scanned everywhere he could for more marks, and all he could see was bruises, old and new, littered across your arms. Even the softness of your feet covered in dried blood from stepping on the glass.
When that caught his eye he knew you needed attention.
“Right, you’re comin’ over so i can get ya cleaned up” He reached for your hand but you pulled back abruptly.
“I can’t, Joel. I can’t leave”
“Then i’ll carry you”
“You don’t get it!” you raised your voice a little louder to get the message across.
“You’re right, I don’t get it. But I ain’t gonna leave you alone right now so you either move, or I move ya myself”
You sighed, knowing he wasn’t gonna let up, so you made the brave decision to step outside… wincing as your feet made contact with the hard stone below you. Joel was there right away, scooping you up into his arms and hoisting you on one side of his hip as his other hand closed your front door. He eyed you for a moment, making sure he wasn’t hurting you before making his way over to his house.
All the fear coursing through your veins dulled as you felt joel’s touch, he was much bigger than you which at the start intimidated you, but now all you wanted to do was crawl into his embrace and let him take care of your problems.
Joel was one of your favourite people; when you moved in you two immediately hit it off, becoming very quick friends. From what you heard from Tommy, Joel wasn’t the type of person to be overly nice to everyone he meets, but you were different. He would always help you out when you had issues with the plumbing or gas, as Rick was never interested in doing any of that. He would bring over leftovers for you as he knew you struggled to eat after a particularly bad fight. Basically anytime Rick wasn’t there, Joel was. Insisting on taking care of you when things went wrong. Helping you get out of bed, and brushing your hair for you on the worst days.
Tommy was already waiting with the front door open, allowing Joel inside as he carried you through the threshold.
“She alright?” Tommy asked and Joel nodded slightly, taking you through to the kitchen and perching you up on the counter, picking up your leg and inspecting your foot for the first time.
“You gotta’ start wearing shoes, sweetheart”
You gave a slightly amused breath at his words but he wasn’t laughing in the slightest. He was angry.
Angry at me? you thought
He moved to one of the cupboards, pulling out a first aid kit and making his way back to you, pulling a stool over and sitting in front of your legs, pulling your feet into his lap and getting to work with the antiseptic.
“ouch!” you winced as the stinging made its way through your body.
“I know babygirl, m’sorry. i’ll just be a little minute more and then you’re done, m’kay?”
That was another thing that was unusual with Joel, his affection towards you. It was clear that he cared about your feelings, maybe it was just because he knew that you didn’t get much at home… or maybe… just maybe…
“All done, sweet girl” you were pulled from your thoughts as he placed the bloodied cotton pads onto the counter beside you and you winced internally at how much blood there actually was. He picked up a thin bandage and began to wrap each of your feet. making sure the cuts were covered.
“Thank you” you spoke quietly, even when he was finished he still held your feet in his lap, the warmness and softness of his jeans bringing you comfort. It made you yawn and made your limbs stretch slightly.
“You tired?” he asked. You shook your head, you knew he’d have you sleep here if you asked but you didn’t want an excuse to stay any longer, on the off chance that Rick was already on his way home.
“I better get going” Joel’s hands held onto your hips as you slid down off the counter, your feet feeling way better touching the floor than before.
“She ain’t leavin’” Tommy’s voice interrupted the both of you, you turned to face the younger brother who was standing in the door way, essentially blocking your exit.
“I-I have to”
“No frickin’ way!” Tommy protested, raising his voice a bit.
“Tommy” Joel warned.
“No, absolutely not! You think we’re gonna let you go back there after everything that sick son of a bitch has done? You’re fuckin’ crazy”
“You don’t understand” You spoke softly, a whimper caught in the back of your throat.
“No you don’t understand! You wanna fuckin’ die huh? You got some sorta death wish?” Tommy was stepping closer to you, not with the intention of intimidating you but out of pure frustration with you.
“Tommy! Back the fuck off” Joel stepped forward now too, both brothers exchanging looks that told you this had been more than a one time conversation. You couldn’t help the tears that burned your eyes, begging to be released, your lip wobbling with every breath.
Tommy was an incredible friend to you, but he was the harsher one out of the two brothers when it came down to you. Joel was better at hiding his true feelings but Tommy, wouldn’t let you hear the end of it.
“What if one day we ain’t there huh? what’s she gonna do? who’s she gonna run to? If she ain’t already dead by that point” his words were harsh and brought all your emotions to light.
“Stop it! please!” you burst into tears, chest tightening as your sobs began to wrack your body.
Joel was immediately at your side pulling you into his embrace tightly and running his hand through your hair, whispering sweet words.
“M’sorry, honey. But you ain’t leaving tonight and that’s final” Tommy spoke before disappearing into the hallway.
“He ain’t tryna be mean sweetheart” Joel whispered as you clung to him.
“I-I know” you spoke hiccuping through your words.
“He’s just worried about you, and so am I”
You pulled away from Joel’s embrace, wiping your eyes. Of course you knew it was wrong, Of course you knew you could get seriously hurt or end up dead. But if it was that straightforward you would’ve been gone a long time ago.
“Can you at least stay until i get some painkillers in ya’?” Joel asked, and it wasn’t a big ask at all… but to you it felt like a hefty question. But it wouldn’t hurt right? You could take the painkillers then head straight back home as if nothing happened.
You nodded and Joel gave a soft smile, and took your hand, leading you through the house and up the stairs.
“I keep everythin’ in my bathroom cabinet, jus’ better that way” he seemingly answered every question you had without you even having to ask.
He led you to sit on his bed as he went into the bathroom, rummaging for a few moments before returning with little white capsules in his hand, he reached into his night stand and grabbed an unopened bottle of water, twisting the cap and handing you both items.
He watched you carefully as you took the pills, swallowing them with water and taking a few more chugs of the water as you didn’t realise how thirsty you were. You handed the bottle back to him and he placed it back on his nightstand.
His room was so cozy, you had never been up here before. Shades of grey and black accented the room, lights dim and sheets soft, his bed big enough for 4 people never mind just him. You could tell this room probably wasn’t his idea as Joel wasn’t one to prioritise his own comfort. It was so cozy that your eyes began to droop, and your head began to sway.
“Lay down, babygirl” Joel instructed and even came to your side to aid you but you pushed him off.
“Nuh-uh I can’t, have to go home”
“Just lay down for 5 minutes, c’mon i don’t want you passing out” he insisted.
“M’kay, 5 minutes” He helped you lay down as you got comfortable on his plushy sheets, it was almost unusual how sleepy you were. You felt your eyes begin to shut against your will and felt your breathing begin to slow. You were falling asleep, but no matter what you did you couldn’t stop it from overcoming you. Your body drifting into a deep slumber before Joel’s eyes.
If only you’d of seen the bottle of sleeping pills sat out on his bathroom counter.
-
When you woke, it was way darker outside, an ambient light flashing through, you squinted for a minute until you realised it was police lights. You searched your surroundings realising you were wearing a t-shirt and bottoms that did not belong to you, and you were also laying on joel’s pillows, the covers atop of you. You threw the covers off and began to stand up, your sleepiness still coursing through your body. how long did i sleep?
You padded towards the window, looking out and gasping at the sight of Rick being pushed into the back of a police car, his protests actively ignored by the officers, you began to start panicking but something caught your eye, or someone.
Tommy stood on the front porch, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he watched the car drive down the street, the officer driving giving him a wave as they passed… they know each other?
“You’re awake” your body jolted as you spun round to face Joel, who stood in the middle of the room holding a mug of what looked and smelled like tea. He motioned for you to take the mug but you ignored him, eyeing him with a look of betrayal.
“I know you didn’t want this sweet girl but i-”
“Didn’t want this? Joel do you have any fucking idea what you’ve just done? He’s gonna get out and he’s gonna come straight for me, do you understand that?” you ran your hands through your hair, pacing back and forth and contemplating all of your options.
“Hey, hey, hey” Joel sat the mug down and walked over grabbing a hold of your shoulders and pulling you to him. “He ain’t gonna hurt you no more, understand”
You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pure sureness in his eyes.
“He comes anywhere near ya i’ll kill m’ myself”… again, the sureness… but something else lurked in his irises, something dark.
“You’re not killing anyone Joel” you pulled out of his grip and began to walk away, searching for your lost clothes, rummaging through his wardrobe and under his bed.
“Where’s all my stuff?”
Joel sighed and walked over to you again.
“It’s in the laundry, why are you so desperate to leave? He’s not here anymore” You heard the frustration in his voice but why was he angry at you, it meant you could go home peacefully.
“Because it’s my home, Joel”
“This is your home” He said plainly, which in any other circumstance would’ve been sweet but you couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.
“That’s kind Joel but I really gotta-”
“You think now that i’ve got you i’m just gonna let you go?” He chuckled.
The air shifted as you looked into Joel’s eyes that seemed to have nothing but pure lust for you, he had been drinking.
But it wasn’t until your eyes caught the little orange pill bottle sat open on the counter that it finally clicked. And he noticed when it clicked. His eyes followed yours and he sighed at his mistake, before giving a slight scoff.
“Sorry, probably shoulda’ put that away before”
“Joel?” You grew more and more frightened as the seconds grew by, this wasn’t your Joel. This Joel had something dark and malicious about him.
“Hey, it’s alright sweetheart” he came up and held your face in his hands…
“I’m gonna take care of you now”
-
a/n: please let me know if you want a part two i’d be happy to write one! any comments and reblogs are so greatly appreciated thank you so much for reading.
love, mila🎀
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dogbites-puppylove · 2 days
Text
Apple seed cyanide
TW: description of yandere mentalities and actions (obsession, possessive tendencies, stalking, etc)
Tags: Yandere! Joker x reader, Yandere! Harley x reader (platonic)
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If you want the honest to god truth, Harley knew that the Joker was spewing saccharine filth from the start when he reached out with promises of a sweet little life, one with a darling family of their own. She knew because, after years of watching him pant after the trials of Batman, she saw he had no room other than his obsession left in his heart. But like a moth to firelight, she flutters dutifully back into his arms attracted by promises already broken
Imagine her surprise when shes greeted at the door with a bright smile, almost sane enough to trick her. He ushers her in with a sweet note in the air and a “surprise waiting for her” in the living room. Bound and gagged a couple is crying out on the floor, shaking their hands in a pathetic plea, and attempting to crawl away, and usually, Harley would be all for making a joke or two, but instead, all she can see is you. Your little presence floods all of her senses, sitting perfectly pacified on the floor. Behind her, she's aware of her partner's sick laughter, but she can't shake off the trance she's in.
You couldn't be older than 3, still without proper motor skills and a morbid curiosity stopping any critical preservation instincts that might have had you crying. This becomes more evident when instead of screaming, you giggle as the clown prince of crime crouches down to haul you up into an embrace, even bouncing you up into the air a few times to pry out more laughter. She can barely hear the shrieks of your old parents as the Joker finally deposits you safely into her arms, and as she cradles you close to her chest that aches for you. It's a physical hurt that almost overwhelmed her, the need to crawl inside you and live there, or for you to do the same, and it is in a stranger's house that Harley falls in love again.
“Sweet as honey ain't they?” the Joker coos and cackles at you, waggling a few fingers in front of your face, grinning even wider as you grab at them. “Full of curiosity that one is, a real riot!” but Harley can barely hear him much less acknowledge him past the roaring of blood in her ears. Her heart beating out of her chest she thinks it might just spill open to accommodate the organ trying to crawl closer to her darling. For the second and last time in her life, Harley is chained and leashed to another's will, a fate of coming to their beck and call, your will, her darling wrapped perfectly in her arms.
To the Joker's credit he does love you, or as close to love as he can get. He hushes your cries, indulges you in sweets behind Harley's back, and she's even caught him humming silly little tunes as he dances with you wrapped up in his arms. You bring clarity to him, a surety in his life that he doesn't feel unless pulling Bats along in another joke. You were going to be his perfect legacy, proof that he cannot truly die, you're a part of him in this way. Of course, you’d need a quick little dip into a vat of toxins to truly make a perfect legacy but you needn’t worry, he still loves you. You just need a little preparation first.
Every week he takes you on little daddy-darling outings, he tells Harley your going around to sightsee, and he lets you play a lot of fun games until the sun sets. And he's truthful because his warehouses are far and in between, and every mutilation he leads you so lovingly through is a fun little joke. His little comedian, hell coo as he leads your hand tightly clasping a knife against the throat of one of his own boys who had tried to run. Isn't this fun sweetheart?
He underestimates, however, just how devoted Harley is because while she was fully delusional when they had first gotten into a relationship Harley cannot spare you as collateral damage to her own fantasies. She is painfully grounded as she takes in everything about you 24/7, your expressions, words, actions anything she can she takes to covet away in her mind forever. As much as she is a monster she is your mother and she loves you, you are anything she's ever had and everything she'll ever have. He doesn't realize that she obsessively checks over you, even spotting the smallest flecks of blood, how when she kisses you goodnight she can see the thin sheen of apathy take hold of your gaze.
The final straw comes in the form of a huge argument, she comes home early from work eager to see her little baby, when she finds the Joker cooing into your ear, goading you into doing your best as your hands wrap around a familiar gun. Like the devil on her shoulder, she can't even scream as you pull the trigger, eyes momentarily twitching but no other expression as your former parent's brains paint the windows. And she realizes as you turn around to smile at her sweetly with blood on your teeth and tears that seem so foreign streaming down your face that you need to leave, she has to get you away.
That night she takes you, just 9 years old, and runs. She has no real destination, just a desperate notion to get away, to save you from all that she knows the joker is trying to make you. She can't, she can't let you go through what she knows will force you into the type of person you never wanted to become. Because she can see herself in the mirror and can mourn normal happiness and stability, and she has watched the joker bleed himself dry until he has nothing to himself but an old laugh track repeating over and over again. It's a life of agony and you don't deserve that, not you, never you.
Of course, her body ends up leading her to Ivy’s place, and the woman can only stare in shock as her best friend who had gone radio silent all those years back collapses at her door holding a kid so close she might be trying to meld into one. “Please, please not my baby” Harley begs and any anger that Ivy could have had melts.
For a while it's paradise, the Gotham sirens all corralling once again in their glory, and with their very own new member, you. Selina takes to you quickly, cooing about how her kitten is just the most clever thing in the world as you quickly work through her little trips. (Privately she will worry to Harley about the lack of awareness you have for your own health, the way your eyes glaze over when a plan takes place, and the brutality you exhibit.) Ivy also takes to you quickly, teasing you with little nicknames (how can you be a sapling when you're a human?) and she teaches you how to nurture, how to care for plants and love them as they deserve. (And she will confide to Harley how you seem to take to poisons particularly well, how you are able to craft things more disastrous than she can dream, how your curiosity always leans to the morbid.)
Harley herself takes great energy and care into trying to undo what the Joker has done, it's laughable how Gotham's greatest villains all sit in a circle every week and preach about morals and empathy. But to their credit, it works, and though you may not be able to feel the full existence of motion, though you can't seem to feel it as deeply as others your heart still throbs with what must make you human. You learn consequences and cling with desperation to these little lessons that prove you aren't your mentor. (not father, not anymore)
And yet Harley can still see how your apathy takes hold in the face of curiosity, how you prefer crowbars over teddy bears, and how despite your hardest efforts empathy is always a little too easy to push away in favor of hard-earned apathy. (and she knows, she knows that as long as that bastard is still out there doggedly searching the ground for you, you won't ever truly be safe) so she makes a deal.
The phone rings and Bruce can only raise an eyebrow at the untitled phone number, he doesn't make a habit of giving out his number so uselessly so after the third ring he picks up.
“Hello? This is Bruce Way-”
“Hey Bats.” Alarm shoots through the roof at a voice he hasn't heard in years, and yet still so closely relates to his arch-nemesis.
“Harley? How did you get this-”
“Listen, listen I know it's gonna sound real bad but I- I need you to hear me out. A favor, I need a favor. I'll go back to Arkham, stay there for the rest of my days but, I” she breathes and it's far too shaky for the woman he knows her to be. “My baby” she sobs “You gotta keep my baby safe, he's out there Bats and he won't leave em alone as long as their alive.”
Through his confusion, Bruce manages to calm her down, and wrangles a short story out of her, how she and Joker had played family until she couldn't bear to see you break anymore and how she knew that she alone couldn't keep her darling safe. And maybe it's the boy staring at the corpse of his family in Crime Alley that speaks instead of himself but he finds himself reaching out to help. (he can't let another family split, not when he can help it). As long as Harley doesn't kill, no more lethal tactics, and as long as she reports everything she knows about joker, and works with him against him, she can stay outside of Arkham walls. And as for you?
Your tenth birthday hits and Bruce Wayne steps into your living room with a strangely calculating gaze and a warm smile.
“You must be Y/N? Ah, nice to meet you officially, my name is Bruce Wayne, and ill be your foster family.”
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Author's Note: Another reupload. ALSO! I HAVE GOTTEN THE ANON ASKS!! I AM JUST A SLOW WRITER I’LL GET TO EM I PROMISE!!
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ysrjune · 2 days
Note
sam monroe smut with chubby reader🙏 PLEASE
She hates her weight but sam loves it and one day she’s crying because of a remark smby made and he comforts her :’)
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Sam held you in his arms while you cried about something some girl said about your weight at school earlier. “Come on, beautiful, stop crying. You shouldn’t care about what that bitch has to say about you, she’s just mad she’s not as gorgeous as you.” He tried comforting you while rubbing your arm.
“But she’s right!” you continue to sob. “I try so hard to feel good about my body and stuff, but people just keep on commenting on it.” Sam could break into tears hearing his sweet girl talk bad about herself. He hated hearing about how much you hated your body because he loved it. He loved resting his hand on your tummy. He loved to squeeze your rolls.
To him, all that wasn't disgusting at all. He loved his chubby girl. The way your cheeks were so full, too, melted his heart. Especially when you'd smile. “Well, I don't think anything negative about your body. God, your body is literally worth worshipping, baby.” His hand trailed down to your plushy thighs.
You knew that. You knew Sam was obsessed with not just your body, but everything else about you. Even before you two were dating, he never made a negative comment about your weight. That was one of the reasons you started liking him in the first place. Every other guy you were friends with before Sam would say something atleast once about your body.
“That's real sweet of you, Sam, but I don't think so.” You hold his hand, sniffling. Your boyfriend shakes his head and forces you to lay on him. “Nah, I mean it. Just cause you have a tummy and a couple of rolls doesn't make you any less attractive, angel face.” He kissed your forehead and sat up against the headboard so that you were sitting on him properly.
“So cute, could just eat you up.” He quickly states and started sucking on your neck, leaving small kisses as well. “Sam—” You giggled at the sensation of his lips on your neck. “Stop, that tickles,” You try pushing his face awah from you, but he wouldn't budge. He did stop eventually, thank goodness. You look at your phone to open the camera to see how many hickeys he had left.
“4? Really, Sam?” You give him an unamused look even though you thought it was kinda funny. “You don't get it, huh?” His hand went down to your breast, holding onto it gently. “Just cause a couple of people tell you things about your body doesn't mean others don't find you attractive. I've seen a couple dorks check you out. Even when you're with me.” He rolled his eyes at the memory of it.
“Starin’ at your ass and thighs.” He says as both his hands travel to your ass. “‘least they know they can't have what's already mine.” He smirked, giving your ass a squeeze. “Ugh, you're such a pervert.” You reply playfully but also gently, slapping him. “Yeah, you like it, though. First time we fucked was because I was being a pervert and it turned you on.” He reminds you, sliding down your shorts.
“That didn't mean anything..” You blush at a little bit, feeling the way his fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts to pull them down. “Then what's happening right now? Are you sure you're not already soaked by me doing the bare minimum?” He whispers, looking up to you with those pretty blue eyes that were smudged with eyeliner.
You didn't want to answer that. He already knew it, so why is he asking? How could someone not get so turned on by a hot emo guy. Especially one that knows how to use his dick. He wasn't just good at using that, though. His fingers and his mouth were great, too.
Though, at first, he wasn't exactly as good as he is now. The first time he fingered you, he had no idea what he was doing. The first time he ate you out? He didn't know lots about that either despite all the porn he watched. It took him a couple times to get it all right, and by the 4th time he tried fingering/eating you out, he was real good at it.
The first time he stuck his dick in you, he came almost immediately and was so embarrassed about it, but that didn't stop him from continuing to thrust in and out of you. You wouldn't ever forget that moment cause once he came, he made the cutest little whimper ever. His face was flushed, and his eyebrows were pinched together, moaning and panting.
That was the first time he ever had sex, too. It felt so good, he didn't wanna stop even after cumming 3 more times. He was also just so obsessed with the wet noises your pussy would make with every thrust. Every moan you let out gave him less reason to stop.
“What, cat got your tongue? Can't tell me that your panties and practically stuck to that pretty pussy?” He snaps you out of your trance. “Mm, no.. was just thinking.”, “About what?” By this time, he already had you in only your bra and underwear, taking in the sight before him.
“The first time we fucked..” You admit to him, feeling his boner. “Fuck, you had me feelin’ so good that night, princess.” You help him out of his shorts, revealing his hard cock since he had no boxers on underneath. You rubbed the tip, making his hips jerk up a little bit. “Moaning your name like a little bitch ‘n shit.” He moved his hips against your fingers.
He shifted himself to where his dick met the fabric of your panties. Sam started thrusting against them, letting out small moans. “Please let me feel like that again, babe. please please please let me fuck you. I've been waiting so damn long.” It had been almost a month since you've had sex with him.
You thought of riding him so you could see his pretty face get all scrunched up when hes about to cum, but you remembered how much of a thing he had for you arching your back for him. “Should blow my back out.” You kiss his cheeks while he still thrusted against your clothed clit. “Mm, I'd love that.”
So, here you were. Moaning out his name into a pillow, but also hearing those cute noises of his. “Shit, shit, shit,” He moaned, smacking your ass and watching it jiggle with every thrust he made. “Yeah, mhm, you're so pretty, sweet girl. Mm, could do this forever.” He suddenly flipped you around and placed his hand on your tummy.
“You're so soft, oh my God.” He squeezed it a little, then moved his hand to your puffy cheeks. “So pretty,” He whimpered, letting you know he was close. “Uh—fuck. ‘m so close. Oh, you're so good.”, “So. Fucking. Good.” He thrusted with every word.
“Sam, Im gonna cum!” You hold onto his arm. “Gonna cum? So do it then, baby. Cum all over my cock, beautiful. Can do it, come on.” He led you on until he felt you tighten around him and release yourself onto his dick. It took him a few more thrusts to cum, but once he did, he pulled out and lay on you, hands grabbing onto your titties.
“Fuck, princess.” He panted and slid down to kiss your tummy, thighs, and everywhere that you were insecure. “Don't ever call yourself unattractive. I'd rather have my cuddly, chubby girlfriend than any other girl.”
Your boyfriend was truly the sweetest.
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance
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Chapter 13: You Made a Plaything Out of Romance
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter thirteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 7.3K (And every word hurts, except the beginning the beginning is nice and then it goes downhill)
Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+. This one is sad guys. References to sex, Implied Sex, Nudity (lying in bed with someone the morning after), Brief explicit sexual encounter (it's like one sentence), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: This one took me a while to write, because it was painful. I can neither confirm nor deny that I cried when I wrote it. But I hope y'all hate it as much as I do.
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1984
Soft light from under your floral curtains kisses your face as you wake from sleep, your arms tightening around Ben with a happy sigh as the memories of the night before blanket you in a soft cocoon of love and warmth. You had imagined that night many times over the years you'd been with Ben, but none of them compared to the real thing.
A dull throb of pain coats your limbs and body, that serves as a gentle reminder of exactly how you spent the late hours and the early hours of the morning with Ben, but it was a happy reminder. The memories of last night were passionate and more wonderful than you could have imagined. All thoughts of leaving him wiped away by one night filled with love that was all you wanted for so long. Because now there wasn’t a point in leaving, now that you had the one person you’d wanted since you were eight, you’d never leave him ever again.
You can feel the soft drag of Ben's hand against your back, coaxing you into a peaceful glow of contentment. You were laying on his muscular chest, your head directly over his heart, listening to the steady beat, your arm wrapped in an possessive hold over his body and you never wanted to leave. You wanted to exist in this moment the rest of your life, laying here with the man who'd had your heart for so long, finally at peace and finally allowing yourself to show him how much you loved him and how much he meant to you. Apart of you couldn't believe that this was real, and was worried that you'll wake up and the bed will be cold and Ben will be gone.
"Good morning." Ben's voice rumbles up through his chest. He moves his free hand to push back some of the hair that has fallen into your face, a content smile gracing his perfect lips as he allows his hand to brush over your cheeks.
"Good morning." You smile, leaning into his touch, before you press a kiss directly over his heart. "How long have you been awake?"
"Not too long."
"You didn't want to wake me up?"
"No." He murmurs, his hand still stroking your back in a soft smooth motion, that trails sunshine down your spine. "You're cute when you're asleep.
"Only when I'm asleep?" You tease, propping yourself up so you can look in his eyes, your hair tickling over his chest and you're sure that you must look ridiculous, but you don't care.
He looks better this morning than usual, you decide, noting the sweep of his dark hair over his brow and the sleepy haze in his eyes. His lips are a little red and swollen from when you kissed him and you assume your own look the same.
"No." Ben shakes his head, slowly, smiling down at you, and you can't help but kiss him, brushing your lips against his and letting him set your nerve endings on fire. Ben's happy smile against your mouth makes you want to melt into him and never leave, to curl up inside his heart and let yourself be filled with the glow of his love. “How are you?”
“Good, better than good.” You tighten your arm over his chest. “Just a little sore-“ You smile against his lips.
You hadn’t meant it like a bad thing, if anything, you liked it a little bit,  but judging by Ben’s reaction to those words you understood that he took it the wrong way. 
Ben’s eyes widen, his own smile faltering. He grabs the blanket wrapped around your waist raising it, so his eyes can trace your body to look for bruises. “Did I hurt you?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours once more, voice tinged with worry in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.
“No you didn’t.” Your hand gently falls on his cheek to reassure him. “It was perfect.” For a second you're afraid you said too much, but then Ben’s crooked smile breaks something inside of you.
“Yeah, it was.” He whispers, turning to press a kiss to your palm.
The look in his eyes is soft, filled with so many unspoken things that it makes you dizzy. He’s never once looked at you like that and you know you’ll never get used to it. Because he’s looking at you the way you saw the elderly couple look at each other all those years ago, when you longed for the same thing to happen to you, longed for a man to look at you that way. And you’re sure you’re looking at him the same way, because now it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to hide how you feel about him. There’s no more frustration or anger, there’s only love that crashes over your head and pulls you out to sea with Ben.
 “And It’s a good sore.” You smile sheepishly, cheeks blushing under his gaze. “I wouldn’t mind-um-getting used to it.”
“Oh really?”
You nod, hand still cupping Ben’s cheek.
“Huh.” Ben's smile turns into a mischievous smirk.
All of a sudden he flips you over so that you’re on your back with him hovering over you, smirk more pronounced than it was a few seconds ago. As he does so, your bed makes a terrible creaking sound and shifts to the right precariously on its last leg, literally.
You snort, pressing your lips together, body shaking with stifled laughs. Ben presses his head to your shoulder laughing too, the rich sound of his voice sending tingles down you spine. His eyes shine with laughter as he leans down to kiss you again.
“You owe me a new bed.” You mutter against his lips.
“I think we are both responsible for breaking it.” Ben's hands stroke along your sides, before he drops back down to kiss you.
“Well as slutty as you are I’d think that you would know how to avoid breaking one.” You tease raising a hand to brush his dark hair out of his eyes and Ben leans into your touch. You loved how he responded to you, it reminded you so much of how you felt whenever he touched you, like he couldn't get enough and he never wanted it to stop.
“Did you just call me a slut?” He pulls back with a frown.
“Yes. I did.” You laugh at his sullen expression.
Even when he frowns he's handsome. How did I get this lucky?
"You're lucky you're so cute." Ben sighs. “I’ve broken a few, but I will say I had the most fun breaking this one.”
His words make your heart thud madly in your chest in understanding. It confirms the thing that you had been thinking since you woke up, that last night meant everything to Ben too, that it wasn’t just sex for him. That he wanted to be there with you. And it made you smile wider.
Ben’s eyes are locked with yours, so much love and care slipping through his gaze that it makes you dizzy. “Next time we can break my bed. Just so we’re even.” He finishes capturing your lips with his, the words next time circling on your head on repeat.
You kiss him back eagerly, wanting to be lost forever in the warmth of the two of you together, because it’d finally happened, you’d finally gotten your Ben.
Your fingers scratch against the back of his head softly as you gaze up into his bright green eyes. You couldn’t believe it, after all these years he was yours, your best friend and now the man you love with all your heart. Your entire chest soars with emotion, smile stretching across your face so wide that you knew it probably wasn’t attractive but you couldn’t stop. You were so blissfully happy for the first time in years and you wanted to share that happiness with him the rest of your life.
“What?” Ben smiles down at you almost tenderly, so different than the way he looked when it wasn’t the two of you. One of his hands strokes the curve of your hip to bring your leg up to wrap around his waist the other brushes your wild tangles from your face, tracing the dips and curves of your cheek and jaw with a fingertip as if he wishes to commit each one to memory. He touches you with a reverence that you’d never imagine possible, a gentleness that is so different than Soldier Boy that it takes your breath away, like you’re a marble statue and he wishes to understand your beauty.
You move both of your hands to cup his cheeks feeling the wonderful scratch of stubble against the smooth skin, smile still firmly in place. And you finally say the three words that have haunted you since you were children. “I love you.”
Ben blinks. “What?”
“I love you Ben.” Your heart thuds madly in your chest remembering the past 24 hours when he made you feel special and loved, just how you’d imagined it so many times.
You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop smiling, ever be able to stop feeling so warm as if you were catching fire.
Ben doesn’t move, his muscles tensing.
“Ben?” You’re still smiling, hoping that he’ll say it back, expecting that. Because how could he not? How could he not and be so caring and attentive? How could he make love to you like that, hold you close, take care of you after, dance with you, buy you a thoughtful gift, and take you out for your birthday each year and not love you? How could he look at you like you were the only person in the world and not feel the same way?
“I-“ He looks at you earnestly eyes soft in the morning light, his touch warm against your cheek, as if drinking you in. "I-" But then the softness in his green eyes is gone replaced by a familiar hardness that makes the warm feeling evaporate in your chest. Ben glances at the alarm clock on your bedside table. “Fuck is that the time?”
“What?” You ask confused by the change.
“I have a meeting with Legend.” He rolls off of you, pulling his face from your hands, and out of bed making it buck and shudder, not embarrassed by his nakedness. It was like he suddenly needed to be as far away from you as possible, and it was like someone dropped a bucket of ice water over your head.
You sit up, clutching the blankets to your chest in confusion. He moves around the room trying to find his clothes where you practically ripped them off his body last night.
“You do? I thought you just had the premiere tonight?”
Ben never scheduled things the same day as a premiere. He liked to spend the early part of the day drinking and imbibing in whatever he wanted so he didn’t have to be sober when he got there. He didn’t like to deal with the reporters, fans, and other people sober. Honestly, you didn't either, but you'd rather acquire a buzz while you were there, rather than before.
But today was different. You were hoping that this time it meant you and Ben would spend the next hours together enjoying one another before you had to go, spending as much time together in bed as possible. Hoping that at the premiere maybe you could announce your relationship, not that the press deserved that, but after all these years you wanted people to know that Ben was yours and you believed that he would be happy to say that you were his. Especially given what he had said before taking you to bed.
“No. I’ve got to talk to him about some shit for that thing in Nicaragua. That fucker Stan is gonna be there-“ Ben walks around the room picking up articles of clothing and refusing to make eye contact with you.
“Are you sure? I thought we could go to that diner on the corner and get some breakfast.“ You try to catch his eye, but Ben turns away as if he's looking for his shoes, hard to believe given the fact that they were sitting in the opposite direction. "You really liked it last time-"
“Sorry baby I can’t.”
The nickname “baby” is like taking a bullet to the chest.  Ben never called you that, Sweetheart yes, Doll, yes, but never baby. It was reserved for the other women. The endless cycle of women that Ben bedded and then never talked to again. It was his way of putting distance between them and him and you knew that better than anyone. And the fact that he called you that made uncertainty pulse in the back of your throat. You try to shake it off and try again.
“Oh well. You’re still picking me up for the premiere right? We always go together-“
“I’m not sure how long the meeting will run so I’ll see you there.” He won’t meet your eye as he pulls up his pants, the harsh sound of his zipper like a slap in the face.
“But Ben-“ Your start to say, your heart sinking.
“I gotta fucking go.” Ben snaps.
“Oh, Okay.”
He looks in your general direction one more time, not quite meeting your eyes, and not apologizing, but then he turns and leaves the room, not even taking the time to put on his shirt or his shoes.
What just happened?
When you finally force yourself to get out of bed to go to the bathroom, you see your reflection in the mirror, hair a tangled mass, lips bright red and swollen from Ben, and the prominent mark he left behind in the shadow of your jaw that marked you as his.
As you stand there examining your reflection, the pain of his rejection hits you all over again, causing you to crumble against the counter, hands tightening so hand in the marble vanity that it comes apart in your hands.
You weren't sure if it was a rejection, rather it was the abruptness of how he left that scared you. How easily he slipped back into the façade of Soldier Boy after spending the entire night with you and making you believe that every moment was special.
The memory of last night sends a wave of warmth through your body, goosebumps prickling against your skin. But this time a cold shock of the way he left strikes your heart.
Maybe he really did have a meeting. But then why did he have to leave immediately after I told him that I loved him?
The memory of how happy you were in that moment makes you cry harder, when you told him the one thing you'd longed to for so long, while he looked at you with so much love that it made you feel more happy than you ever had.
You knew that Ben had a difficult time expressing that and feelings in general, but the way he acted last night at dinner and after when he made love to you, spoke greater than that. He had to love you, had to care about you.
Didn't he?
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"Indigo over here!"
"Indigo who are you with tonight?"
"Indigo what do you have to say about the rumors of you and Noir being in a relationship?"
The questions are coupled with flashes of brilliant light as you wave and force a wide smile on the red carpet. Tonight Legend had insisted that you wear the new supe suit he had designed for you, the one that didn't require a hood and the only thing that hid your identity was a black eye mask that looked suspiciously like the red one Countess wore.
But you weren't focused on that, or the reporters, all you could think of was Ben.
He hadn't called and hadn't answered any of the three phone calls that you placed to his apartment at the time you guessed he would be home getting ready. You even left messages, but he still never called.
Each minute you stayed away from him you could feel the crack in your heart growing wider and wider. You still didn't understand why he did that, why he left as soon as you said the words you wished to for so long.
You had felt like a weight had lifted from your chest when you said them, wanted to live in the warmth that followed as you gazed up at the man you loved finally able to let him know how you felt.
And then he'd run away.
You'd spent the rest of the time before the premiere trying to convince yourself that it was a coincidence, that maybe he really did have a meeting with Stan and Legend about Nicaragua. But you wondered why you weren't told about it.
Stan had been making such a big deal about it, about what it meant to finally have supes help in the military. Not to mention Stan usually liked having you at those kind of meetings, because you were able to keep Ben calm.
So then that begged the questions: Why did Ben lie? Why did he run away?
As you weave your way through the crowded lobby of the movie theater you spot Ben up ahead, his back was to you, but then you freeze halfway to him. His muscular arm is wrapped around Countess's waist, pulling her into his side so tightly that her free hand is resting on the front of his supe suit in the middle of his chest where you had pressed a kiss to hours ago. He leans down to whisper into her ear and she laughs, before whispering something back that makes Ben's hand squeeze her hip.
All of a sudden you're transported back to your 16th birthday, when Ben showed up with Missy Callahan, who flaunted him right under your nose. But this is worse.
It's worse because you can't think of anything else but last night, when Ben kissed you, held you close, made you feel more loved and appreciated than you ever had. When he made every moment you spent together feel special, when he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.
Tears build behind your eyes as you stand there staring at them, all the other patrons passing by in shades of multicolored dresses and suits, with the sound of Countess's laughter echoing in your ears.
When Ben and Countess walk towards the theater you follow, hoping to catch his eye, wishing that he would look at you. They choose their seats in the front row, Countess sitting down on Ben's left, and just as you try to sit on Ben's right, Gunpowder slides into the seat on Ben's right, your usual seat.
"I was actually going to sit there." You say, and this time Ben looks away from Countess to see you for the first time. You wait to see some kind of recognition in his eyes, see some semblance of the man you woke up with in your bed, but you see none of the warmth he had earlier.
He looks indifferent, and the frustration and anger makes tears burn behind your eyes, but you keep them down.
"Sorry Indigo. The director told me to sit here because I'm in the movie." Gunpowder shrugs, but he doesn't quite meet your eyes.
Each time this had happened in the past Ben would shove either Gunpowder or Countess out of the seat so you could sit next to him, even though he hated that you usually mocked whatever movie it was endlessly. But this time Ben does nothing, only sits there.
How can he do this? How can he act like nothing happened between us? How-
The next thought is lost in another wave of emotion that crashes over your head, but you refuse to cry in front of Countess, who is the only one really looking at you. Ben's eyes are on you, but they're cold, unyielding, nothing like the soft clover they were last night when he took you to bed and made you feel special.
"Ben can we talk?" You ask.
"I don't want to miss the premiere." He replies, taking a swig from the glass full of scotch in the cupholder between him and Gunpowder.
"I think this is more important-" You begin to say.
"You should find a seat. The movie is starting." Countess interrupts with a smirk, running her hand up Ben's muscular arm where it lays on the arm between their chairs. You watch the drag of her hand and you feel like the sixteen year old girl in the monstrosity of tulle watching the boy you loved dance with another girl, who made you feel ugly and fat.
You hadn't felt like that girl in a long time, especially not in the last 24 hours when Ben made you feel beautiful and sexy in the best way. The memories of the time you spent together flash through your mind. When each time he moaned your name made you proud to know that you could do that to him, that you could cause him to fall apart, that you could leave your mark on him, make him be lost in you the way that you were lost in his every caress.
Ben doesn't say anything as the commercials begin to play behind you on the large screen, only sits there allowing Countess to touch him.
"Um- yeah. I guess I should." You whisper, swallowing the ball of emotion before shuffling away to find a seat. It's several rows back, in the aisle away from them, next to someone who smells like they've bathed in whiskey.
And damn it all it does is remind you of Ben. Your eyes don't leave him and Countess where they sit and each time you watch them whisper and hear her giggle you feel yourself sink lower and lower into the pit of despair.
Finally when the movie is over you try to chase after Ben, to corner him because you want to know why he's doing this, why he's acting this way, why he's finally allowing Countess to have him the way that she always tried to in the past. The exact thing that he and you mocked her for late at night when the two of you were talking at your apartment. Ben hated her almost as much as you did, or you thought he did.
But he expertly avoids you, like he knows you're following him, given his super-hearing it didn't seem that far from the truth. You follow him through the theater and into the banquet hall where the afterparty is occurring, ignoring the clinking of glasses, the soft music from the band on the stage, and the laughter coming from the people around you who are too drunk already to remember any of this.
Something you wish you were, drunk that is. You didn’t want to forget last night, you just wanted to know why Ben was acting this way. You didn't want forget the way he touched you, the way he felt, the way he made everything else melt away so that it was just the two of you, exactly what you had longed for. You wanted to understand.
Because maybe I did misjudge what last night was, but I couldn't have. The memory of this morning before he left blankets your mind in a cocoon of warmth all over again. You don't look at someone like that, hold them close like that, agree that last night was perfect if it was just sex.
The thought made you irrationally angry.
"Indigo." You hear someone say and touch your arm.
"Huh?" You turn to see Dr. Vogelbaum. He was wearing a dark blue suit, perfectly tailored, with a red tie. Very patriotic, but also surprising. He had never seemed the type to want to come to one of these premieres. "Dr. Vogelbaum, I didn't know you were here."
"I thought I'd come and see what all the fuss was about." He smiles tightly. "Would you like to dance?"
"Um-" You look over the crowds of people dancing in the center of the room. You didn't feel like dancing, you still wanted to corner Ben, drag him away to another room where you could ask him what the hell was going on. He'd never done anything like this before, never iced you out even when he was really pissed off, he'd always find you.
So why was this any different? Was he angry? Upset by what I said? Why would that upset him? You think about how happy he looked when you were laying on his chest and how he leaned into your touch. I thought he’d be happy. He was happy up until I said “I love you.” So why would that change anything?
"I don't really feel like dancing-"
"Please, oblige me. A woman as beautiful as you shouldn't be here alone." Vogelbaum smiles as he pulls you onto the dance floor, ignoring your protests.
You begin to sway back and forth to the song, but everything feels wrong. It makes you think of last night, when Ben held you close and finally kissed you for the first time while your song played. And now this entire night feels like a mistake, last night feels like a mistake, everything that's happened the past forty years feels like a mistake.
He spins you away from him, and as you turn you see Ben. You didn't realize that he was standing on the edge of the dance-floor watching you and Vogelbaum. His arm is still wrapped around Countess, who is practically attached at the hip, talking with another woman in a long blue dress in front of her. You watch his jaw tighten as he takes in Vogelbaum’s hand placement, a dark look flashing in his eyes, but just as you try to identify it, Countess drags her hand up the front of his suit, grabbing his attention, and goes on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear.
How could I have been so stupid?  You think to yourself watching him drop his gaze to her and smile. The thought makes tears burn against your eyes. You couldn't understand, couldn't understand why he was doing this, ignoring you and getting friendly with Countess. And you couldn't understand how he could shift from hot to cold so suddenly, how he could act like you were the only person he saw to not even looking at you, refusing to speak to you, acting cold and indifferent. Ben had never once done that to you, had never once acted that way, even when he was mad.
Vogelbaum pulls you back into his chest, but the way his body feels against yours is wrong. "He's quite the flirt isn't he?"
"Huh?" You look up from his tie.
"Soldier Boy." He's watching them over your head, but you don't want to look at them anymore, you don't want to watch Ben with Countess and feel ugly, feel like you weren't enough, feel like the girl who only had one friend and a mother she could never please.
"Yeah." You mutter.
"Legend mentioned that you were thinking about retiring." He continues oblivious to your current state.
The mention of your plan to leave makes you remember it. You hadn't thought about it since Ben picked you up for dinner the night before, when you had been drinking and finally decided to leave, to walk away from everything and do something for yourself.
And now you wished you had. You wished that you had slammed the door in Ben's face when he came to get you last night, wished that you had told him that you were leaving, and wished that you had been strong enough to say no to him. The memories of last night come back to you, how it felt to kiss him for the first time, how happy you were because you believed he loved you as much as you loved him, how he cared about your first time being special-
The tears are so close to falling now that your jaw is  clenched together so tight that you think you hear the crunch of your teeth cracking.
"Yes. I'm retiring." You respond.
"Well, if you're looking for a change of pace I might have a job for you."
"I'm not really a scientist-"
"It wouldn't be a science job and I think you should come to the lab this week-"
"The last time I was in a lab, all this supe shit started." You snap before you stop yourself. "Forgive me for not wanting to have that happen again."
"It's not an experiment." He continues to sway the two of you back and forth. "I've been working on a project with Stan and we both thought that you could help us."
"How?"
"Well we've been focusing on the next generation of supes and what that will look like-"
"Next generation?"
"Yes. And I know someone that might benefit from meeting you. I've been working very closely with him and he needs a strong figure in his life, you have some things in common-"
"I'm not interested in being a babysitter."
"Why don't you just come by this week and meet him? I'm sure you'd hit it off-"
"I said I wasn't interested." You pull yourself from his arms. "I'm done with all of this."
"Indigo-" He reaches for your wrist.
"If you touch me again, I'm going to rip off your arm." You force a smile knowing that the cameras are still flashing, and say it low enough so that he is the only one that can hear.
Vogelbaum immediately moves back from you, putting as much space as he can and you turn back to where you saw Ben standing a few minutes ago, but he's gone.
You stand there in the middle of the dance floor for a minute, not sure what to do, so you decide to go to the bathroom to collect your thoughts. And you immediately regret your decision.
Before the door of the bathroom opens all the way you know, call it a feeling or a psychic premonition, but you do.
You wish you were wrong, but you knew Ben better than anyone, or at least you thought you did.
You can feel it in the air, hear the rapid beating of their hearts and the loud moans, smell the sour odor of sweat, but you're still not prepared for what's waiting for you. Countess's hands are braced on the white marble of the sink in front of her, Ben's hand fisted tightly in her hair, pulling her head back to where his face is buried in her throat, her own face contorted in an expression of pure ecstasy, with each snap of Ben's hips as he crushes her against the sink.
The bathroom door slams shut loudly behind you, drawing Ben's gaze to where you stand, your hands clenched tightly into fists, the skin pulled tight over your knuckles. He freezes and for a moment you think he looks sorry, but then it's gone, fading into the hardened expression he's had since you told him that you loved him.
You don't know what to feel, anger, frustration, heartbreak, and rage all form a white hot ball in the pit of your stomach. You have the sudden urge to throw up and also burn the entire building down to the ground, but you can't move, can't look away from where they stand.
"Baby why'd you stop." Countess gasps, reaching back with a hand for Ben, but he steps away from her, to zip up his pants. Countess finally looks over at where you're standing and smirks. "Oh hey y/n. I didn't know you were here."
Her face is flushed red, almost the same color of her hair as she reaches down for her pants and drags them back up her body. The proud look in her eyes makes you snap your jaw together to fight the urge to rip her in half.
“There are private rooms for that.” You keep your voice as monotone as possible, pushing down the heartbreak and the anger that burns against your skin.
“It’s much more fun when anyone can walk in. Don’t you think so Ben?” Countess reaches for Ben, but he shrugs her off.
You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you taste blood, trying very hard not to lose control. You prided yourself on that, you hadn’t lost control in all your years as a supe.
Ben doesn't say anything.
“Get out.” You snap.
“I don’t think I will. We were in the middle of something-“ Countess's sultry smile widens. "Maybe you should leave so we can fini-"
Her body flies forward towards you, until her throat is clutched tightly between your right hand. “I’ve never liked you Countess. Other than a flash of light you're pretty worthless. Your powers the only thing that make you special, and I know that you need both of your hands to use them, right?" Your hand tightens on her throat and you know the next day she'll have bruises.
I should just kill her right now. Who would miss her?
She gasps for air, clawing against your hand, eyes wide. She'd never seen you lose control before, never seen you use your powers quite like this, and the fear in her eyes makes you feel better.
“So I suggest you get out. Before I rip them off and make you eat them.”  You snarl before throwing her in the direction of the door behind you. She stumbles forward a step, placing a hand against the bathroom door as she catches her breath. When she turns back to look at you, her eyes are flashing with malice, but you can still see the pride under it all.
“Well I’ll see you two later. Hopefully we can finish what we started.” Countess smirks at you, recovering as she saunters out.
It takes an amazing amount of willpower not to drag her back into the room and rip her head off.
Ben adjusts his suit, not meeting your gaze. And for a second you think he looks guilty, but it’s gone as soon as you see it. His ridiculous helmet is laying on the floor next to him, probably took it off before-
Your jaw clenches together remembering what you walked in on.
“Ben why are you doing this?”  You say, composing your voice as much as you can. You force yourself to look him in the eye, you want him to see how hurt you are.
“Doing what?” He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow.
"You’re pushing me away, avoiding me, and acting like last night didn’t mean anything-"
"It didn’t.” He states. Ben's jaw is clenched tight, shoulders tense, as he begins to slip back into the façade of Soldier Boy that he adopted after you both got the serum.
Tears burn against your eyes at his sharp tone. You let out a shaky breath. "I don’t believe you. You don’t act that way, kiss me, hold my hand, make love like that and then pretend it never happened.”
“We didn’t make love, we fucked.” He snaps eyes blazing. “Don’t turn this into something that it’s not.”
 “I’m not just talking about the sex. I’m talking about dinner, the dancing, remembering my birthday, getting me pearls because you remembered I lost mine, the fact that you had them play the song we danced to when we were 18-“
“So?”
“Why are you acting like you didn’t do any of those things?”
“I’m not saying I didn’t do them. I’m saying that you’re being damn hormonal and reading into it.”
“I’m not being hormonal!” You snap. “Are you really telling me that you did all of those things just to get into my pants and that you don’t feel anything for me? That what I said to you this morning meant nothing to you? After everything we’ve been through-“
“Everything we’ve been through?” Ben spits, suddenly angry. “All I know is for the last 40 years you’ve been getting in my way. You think I care about you? I don’t care about anyone! I’m Soldier Boy. I’m America’s first fucking superhero. And I could never care about someone like you. You’re pathetic. You’re always here, fucking with my decisions, following me around like a fucking lovesick puppy, standing in my damn way with those fucking stars in your eyes, trying to remind me of who I was before and I wish you would just fuck off!”
Your own anger surges up to push away the heartbreak at his harsh words. “You say that I’m always here, but it was your idea for us to do this. You did this to me Ben. I’m here because you wanted me to be, because you needed me. And it’s you that keeps showing up at my apartment. I don’t make you come over!”
The memory of the night he asked you to come with him rises at the back of your mind. You remember how happy you were to go with him because you thought it was as close as he would get to admitting that he loved you, and you had hoped that if you went with him it meant that he wanted to be more. You were not remembering wrong, you remembered exactly what he said that night, you knew that he acted like he needed you. So why was he lying now?
“I never wanted you here.” He takes a step forward, green eyes hardening. “I don’t fucking need you or anyone else. I’m not a pussy. I’m a man.”
Your teeth clench together in anger and frustration. “I don’t believe you. You say that you know all my tells when I’m lying, but I know yours too. So just tell me the truth!”
“That is the fucking truth. Are you too stupid to understand that? I don’t care about you, I never have!”
“Then why did you kiss me?”
Ben freezes.
“I didn’t initiate that kiss, you kissed me! You were the one that started whatever the hell happened last night!”
“So?”
“You’ve heard me talk about what I want. You addressed it at the table last night. You know that I want more than one night, you know that I want love, that I was willing to leave to find those things. I was ready to walk away from all of this Ben and then you fucked with my head. Did you kiss me and do those things because you thought it would keep me here with you? Because you can’t stand the thought of being alone?”
“I wouldn’t give a single fuck if you left. If you want to go then go. I won’t miss you and I’m not stopping you.”
 “I don’t believe you and I don’t understand why you’re doing this, why you’re trying to push me away and act like you don’t care about me-" You shake your head in frustration.
Ben advances on you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly you know there will be bruises. Ben never touched you when he was angry, sure he’d stare you down, but Ben never did anything to harm you. It’s why you were never afraid of him, because Ben didn't want to hurt you. Even this morning you remember how worried he'd looked when you said you were sore, when he thought that it mean he hurt you. Ben cared about you. You knew he did.
But for him to do this was shocking and you can’t fight the shudder of fear that creeps along your spine.
“You mean nothing to me.” He growls. “You’re just another woman with a warm pussy. That’s all you are. I fucked you because you needed someone to and I thought it might as well be me. I don’t care about you. I never did. And I could never love some one like you. So get the fuck out of my way.” Ben pushes you from him so harshly that you fall back against the wall.
The memory of what your mother shouted at you the night you told her you were going with Ben settles over your mind.
“You really think that disappointment will ever love you? Care about you? You are nothing to him, just another plaything. And the day he finally tosses you away, don’t bother coming back here.”
Your mother's words were harsh, cut to the quick. You hated to admit it, but she was right. You understood that now, understood that the last forty years and all the years of your friendship had been a lie.
Ben didn't care about you, probably never did, he just saw you as a tool for his own amusement, and his harsh words were enough to make you realize that the boy you knew was gone and enough to jolt you into the new harsh reality.
Your hand flicks and Ben's body flies into the concrete wall on the other side of the bathroom hard enough to crack the solid cement. You find your feet, rising to your full height, hands glowing bright purple. The entire room trembles with the force of your anger, the mirrors shatter on the bathroom wall, raining down glass and metal onto where Ben sits stunned on the tile that has begun to crack and split with your display of power.
“That night you came to me I chose you. I chose you, Ben. I left everything behind for you because you asked me to. And I regret it. I regret every moment I have wasted caring about you and taking care of you. I have made excuses for you my entire life. To my family, to society, to your damn team, and to myself. I have stood by you through all of this and I never complained because you were my friend. I was here before and after you decided to take the serum, when your father broke you, when your mother died, when you needed someone to sit with you because you couldn’t take the silence alone, but not anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t be the voice of reason or your fucking babysitter and I can’t be your damn conscience. I shouldn’t have to. You are a man after all, so do it yourself.” The tears are falling freely now, searing against your skin as they trickle down your cheeks. “I tried to cut you some slack because you were my friend Ben, and I loved you.” Your voice breaks when you use the past tense. “But maybe that’s my fault, I romanticized you. I shouldn’t have but I did. I ignored so many things because I loved you but now, I’m fucking done.” You reach up to grab the pearl necklace around your throat, the one that you thought was ridiculous to wear with the supe suit, but the one you kept on because you wanted to remember last night and rip it off, sending the pearls rolling in every direction.
Because now you just wanted to forget it all, forget your friendship, forget the years you spent together, forget all the nights he spent in your bed, forget last night, and forget him.
Ben stands from the ground, brushing off his supe suit and for a second you think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t.
“I can’t do this with you anymore. I can’t stand by and watch you do this to yourself, embrace whatever the fuck kind of person you are now. I won’t. I never want to see you ever again. And the next time you touch me, I’ll kill you.” You turn to go, but then you stop short of the door. “You once told me that you never wanted to be your father, you wanted to be better than him. Funny. After all this time you still became him.”  You spit.
You throw open the door and storm out as the mindless drone of people talking, glasses clinking, and buzz of music settle over your ears. But you don’t hear it, all you hear is the harsh words of the only man you’d ever loved and the feeling of your heart breaking in your chest.
*******************************************************
A/N: Well this one was very sad and I hate myself for putting the reader through this. Let me know what y'all think :)
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know :)
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mulligans-tavern · 6 hours
Text
https://www.tumblr.com/doomed-to-wanda/747617028751474688?source=share
Inspiration above
TW death, grief
---
Five Funerals
They lose Fig first.
Comes with the territory when you're an archdevil - somebody's always looking to take your spot. "Don't worry about it," she says, opening a Planeshift to the recording studio. "It's just the usual rebellious fiends. Icythorz and Bolhondrus and the rest. I'll be back before you know it." She looks resplendent in black leather, the Unfaithable Bass slung across her back, riding the fiery Daymare surrounded in jagged red shards.
Adaine knows before everyone else, but can't believe the vision to be true until she learns that Ayda is gone, too. She scratched every memory of Fig out of her notes before starting over - it was too much pain to bear. The five of them know how it feels.
---5---
It's a few years before they take another hit. Another mission to the Mountains of Chaos, another world-ending calamity to be stopped because Who Else Is Going To Save The World? A small misstep, a miscalculation (six where there should be five, they're only five now) and suddenly the routine becomes deadly.
Riz takes the fall. "It's easier this way," he says, in his last moments. "I'll still see you." And he does. Agent Gukgak Jr., now, with some extra responsibility. But he still comes by. Sometimes. Every so often. Often enough.
---4---
Kristen is next. Only one thing could bring down the most gifted cleric of the age - sacrificing herself for her friends. Third time's the charm when it comes to death, it turns out.
Gorgug is the most hopeful that she'll come back, that she'll find a way again, like in the Nightmare Forest. But Adaine knows this is the end. Even Arthur Aguefort agrees. He quotes Alanis Morissette at her funeral. The followers of Cassandra pull out all the stops.
Adaine, Fabian, and Gorgug have their own ceremony at Ashgrove, next to the Gukgak family plot. It's quiet. Bucky cries into Ragh's shoulder. Aelwyn, Jawbone, and Gertie collect flowers. Tracker stays for a few minutes to say goodbye.
---3---
They quit adventuring after Kristen's funeral. And they don't lose anyone else for a long time. Riz still visits, every few years. They talk about the good old days, how silly it was that Baron was so terrifying when at the end of the day it was an honest conversation that finally did him in. There's rumours that Kristen has ascended to goddesshood herself - Adaine doesn't buy it. She's not the type to be revered.
They come out of retirement for the only reason they would - to bring back one of their own. They finally found Fig's soul, trapped in a ruby in the darkest levels of the Abyss. They can't ask anyone to come with them - it's too dangerous, it's too personal. It's missions like this that kill people.
And when it's all over, when Adaine carries Fabian's burnt, unconscious body back to Morded Manor, they have another funeral to plan.
Gorbag and Roz have already passed, and Wilma and Digby are too old to make preparations, so it falls to Jawbone to organize it. He knows they don't want a lot of fanfare. It's at Ashgrove again, just Adaine and Fabian and the Thistlesprings, and Aelwyn and Ragh. Sandra-Lynn is back in Solace - she sends Adaine a heartfelt text saying she appreciates the invitation, but she can't bring herself to come.
Riz doesn't show for the ceremony - he's desperately scouring the heavenly realms, trying to make sure Gorgug ended up somewhere he wasn't afraid of. Orcish heaven doesn't have him, he reports, and neither does Cassandra.
If he's trapped in the Abyss with Fig, at least they have each other.
---2---
Adaine sees Fabian's death the night of Gorgug's funeral. She needs to prepare, she tells herself. She knows it's going to be hard. She needs all the time she can get, and she needs to know which goodbye will be their last.
They grow old together. Not romantically, although some speculate. Fabian becomes a multiclass advisor at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. Adaine works in Bastion City as an archivist, with occasional trips to Fallinel for Oracle services. They go for vacations sometimes, but never for too long. The memories find them no matter where they go. Sometimes Adaine wishes she could be Ayda, scrape off the old wounds and start fresh. Arthur talks about her sometimes. She's never had the same spark as that one lifetime, he says.
Adaine watches the wrinkles grow beside Fabian's eye, watches his hair turn grey, watches the Future of Dance become its Mentor. He trades his Battlesheet for a cane-sword, then a regular cane. He takes to wearing the Gregorian necktie to classes, no matter how much it clashes with his outfit. They both wonder how many of their own teachers lost party members.
Adaine holds Fabian's wrinkled hand on his deathbed, in his old room at Seacaster Manor. He grins, flashes the same perfect teeth as on the first day of Freshman Year. "Bet you didn't see this one coming, did you?"
"I did," she whispers, tears streaming down her young elven face. "I knew it would end like this. But I always hoped it would last forever."
They're the last words he hears.
It's not the first funeral Adaine organizes. All the Bad Kids held one for Buddy Dawn, back in high school. She and Fabian worked together on the services for Jawbone, Ragh, and Chungledown Bim - who finally caught up to Fabian in both of their old ages. It is the first funeral she has to organize alone.
Some of Fabian's students attend. Arthur Aguefort gives a short speech, and a few students hear the story of Kalvaxus' return for the first time. Adaine sits with Aelwyn in the front row, a few seats down from Hallariel. Gilear records the service to show Telemaine later. Riz is somewhere deep undercover - he maybe hasn't even heard yet.
She always knew she'd be the last. She didn't expect it to hurt so much.
---1---
Adaine stumbles through a few years before she finds herself again. They pass so fast without a mortal lifespan to hold up against them. She drifts between Fallinel and Bastion City for the most part, with occasional return trips to Elmville. Aelwyn always has a place for her to stay. Seacaster Manor was turned into a dormitory for Aguefort students who needed a place to study, or sleep, or stay away from home for a while. Tracker converted Morded Manor into a temple/bed-and-breakfast for worshipers of Galicaea. Strongtower Luxury Apartments was demolished soon after Fabian started teaching at Aguefort. It seems like everything is different now.
Adaine visits Leviathan once, on a whim. The Compass Points hasn't changed a bit. On a chance meeting in the stacks, Ayda looks at her with a spark of familiarity.
"Adaine Abernant?"
"Yes... you remember me?"
Ayda shakes her head. "There are mentions of you in my journals. I leave journals for when I regenerate-"
"I know. I remember."
Ayda looks intrigued. "I wrote that you were a great wizard, and a good friend. I hear from other sources that you are the Elven Oracle. Perhaps you can shed some light on why the pages around yours are torn to shreds or redacted to the point of unreadability?"
Adaine places a gentle hand on Ayda's shoulder. "I don't know if you'd want that. You lost someone you cared about, so much that you thought it was better to forget her than to bear the pain of losing her."
Ayda considers this. "Is it better to forget?" she asks. "Would you give up the memories of those you lost, in order to keep a logical mind?"
"No. Not for anything."
"Then we should talk."
Adaine smiles. "I'd like that."
---2---
*end
Thanks for reading all the way through! I wrote most of this at 2am and the conclusion the next morning. Please take a reblog to share with your friends or drop a like to let me know you enjoyed - or hated - the story!
Ask me anything about it, please, I love discussing these kinds of theories!!!
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rimunagenius · 2 days
Text
Bear.
ʚ paring: Kate Martin x reader
ʚ word count: 877
ʚ warnings: RPF!! , otherwise none.
ʚ rimunagenius speaks: here’s the first one shot to the series ‘And They Were Roommates’. thought i should post this while part 4 of the series is being written…This is how Kate got her nickname ‘bear’. Hope you like it!!
One Shot
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The sound of your keys jingling, as you tried and failed to stifle any extra unnecessary sounds due to your pounding headache, made the pain ten times worse. The soft clicking of the lock even made you feel pain all the way in your ears.
You had test after test, shift after shift, and you just couldn’t wait to get home. The migraine coming on the second your second test today had started. You had fought tears all day long, your eyes burning from the resistance.
Finals week was no joke for a working college student. You had to study in between breaks and shifts at your different jobs. During any off time while the woman’s basketball team was practicing.
Finally kicking your shoes off in the middle of the living room, reminding yourself to pick them up after when ever you decide to get up so Kate won’t have to.
You don’t know how long you’d been there, lying on your couch. The relentless pain after you took the max limit of painkillers, and your migraine still wouldn’t go away. Fighting and resisting the urge to cry it out all day, in fear of being judged and the pain multiplying, you couldn’t take it. You just cried.
You were laying on your back, staring at the one spot on the ceiling you and Kate seemed to stare at whenever you were struggling while on the couch, and just cried.
You couldn’t even stop when Kate had walked through the door. “Hey, I was thinking I could make spaghetti for dinner tonight, something eas—you okay?” The concerned look on her face you couldn’t see as your vision was blurred through the actively falling tears.
At this point, you hadn’t realized you were still crying. Your head pounding so hard you couldn’t even feel them anymore. “Hey, sunshine? Are you okay?” Kate approached slowly, crouching down next to you. She moved hair out of your face, you instantly leaning into her touch.
“My head hurts…so fucking bad. I can’t…make it stop.” You talked quietly, in fear of hearing your own voice will make the pain worse.
Kate wiped the tears that were still falling, knowing how tough this week had been on you. That’s why she kicked off her shoes, removed her phone and keys from her pocket, placing them gently down on the coffee table behind her, and pushed the upper half of your body off the couch so she could slide in ride under you.
She gave you time to turn your body around, so you were laying flat on her chest, resting on your stomach. She rubbed her hands up and down your back, pushing your hair behind your ears, occasionally wiping more tears that fell down your face.
“You’ll be okay. I’m here.” She cooed as you just continued to lay there. “I’m sorry you had a rough day.” It was her turn to stare at the spot on the ceiling while you two just layed there, her providing whatever comfort she could.
“Spaghetti sounds nice.” You whispered, blinking so you could atleast see out of your eyes. “I’m starving.”
“That’s probably why your head hurts, sunshine. When’s the last time you ate anything?” You now realized that skipping dinner last night and opting to not eat anything all day today, mixed with your lack of water intake over the last two days, and little to no sleep because of studying, was a horrible idea. You were just so busy and stressed you said you’d get to it and you didn’t.
“I don’t remember.” You whispered back, resting your chin on her chest, so you could look at her. Her eyes softened and she rubbed your back.
“Alright, i’ll make dinner when your ready, sound good?” You nodded softly, giving her a grateful small smile.
“Thank you, Kate. You’re the best friend on this god forsaken planet.” You wrapped your arms around her, atleast what you could since you were on top of her on the couch.
“Your welcome. I’ll always be here.” She hugged you back, her arms firm yet so comforting. She was warm, soft, and so gentle. A stark contrast from what she looked like when she was playing basketball. Who knew the tough and rough Kate Martin could be such a sweetheart.
“Your oddly soft. Who would’ve thought?” You hummed softly, a sudden wave of drowsiness hitting you like a truck.
“What?” The blonde chuckled, adjusting her arms on your body.
“I said, your soft…and cuddly. Almost like a teddy bear. Makes me feel safe, and warm. And sleepy.” You mumbled, half yawning while your voice started to grow quieter; sleep slowly making you succumb to it.
“Thank you?” Kate didn’t know what to say, all she knew is it was the nicest compliment she’s ever gotten. You liked her hugs and she made you feel safe.
“My own personal teddy bear.”
“Okay, get some rest, sunshine. You need it. I love you.” Kate stroked your head while you snuggled in closer.
“I love you, bear.”
You both stayed right there. Eventually taking a nap. It called for a late dinner, but neither of you cared. Just too comfortable and safe to care.
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