#i would have given him hot headed but he's really not that angry anymore?

[feyascorner]

jealousy looks good on you

summary. Astarion realizes you're jealous after a night out at the tavern where he must gather information from another. And him being him, teasing ensues.

warnings. fluff, idk just two idiots doing idiotic things, Tav here is good oriented, sorry to evil tav players,,,

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. I love morons in love,,

You were not jealous. Especially not of that damned elf practically hanging off from his arm.

You'd encountered devils, walking brains, even the greatest of beasts during your adventures, yet not once have you felt nothing but utter annoyance. Like an obnoxious fly circling your head insistently no matter how much you swatted at it.

You'd never considered yourself possessive of your dearest companion. Sure, you were protective of him at times, but so were you with the rest of your group, especially knowing what each person had gone through in their lives. And while being lovers might've given an extra kick to that boundary, by no means were you excessively watching him like a hawk.

But now here you were, not watching him, but her.

Information, you remind yourself. You'd nearly forgotten why he was even tolerating her behavior in the first place, because even if he was flirtacious by nature, his tendencies narrowed down towards only you after your conversation at Moonrise. You knew he dreaded this as much as you, but the information that woman had was a must—and Astarion had insisted he could help out.

You were sincerely regretting even entertaining the idea now.

She has her chest pressed flush to the toned muscles of his arm, making sure he’s aware of what qualities she has to offer. With a bat of her lashes, she lets out a shrill laughter when he mumbles something, playfully hitting his chest as if it's the funniest thing in the world.

You’ll show her something really fucking funny at this rate—

Patience, you remind yourself. Breathe. In and out. This is unlike the qualities of a hero trying to save the city. Shooting an arrow at the woman would do nothing but cause panic. Why did you even want to get so violent in the first place? A little minor bump in the road shouldn't make you this angry, should it?

You seriously don't want to watch anymore—especially when he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear and she lets out that rage-inducing giggle again—so you down the rest of your alcohol and run a hand down your face.

You don't notice his eyes glancing at you every few moments, too busy calming your nerves.

A few minutes later, you hear the scrape of his chair pushing back and a rush of relief floods you when you see him stand, face content in a way that tells you the mission was successful. You thank the Gods above because any more of this and you certainly would've committed some sort of crime-

The woman takes his hand, shaking her head before giving him a sly smile. The breaths you took earlier seem to have no effect the second she motions towards the door, her fingers still wrapped around his hand like a death sentence.

You should trust him, you think.

He's had more experience in this than anyone else.

You can't see his expression, but the second you see hers drop, you're suddenly moving across the entire tavern. He whips around when he hears your steps and the relief on his face almost calms you. Almost.

“Hello, dear,” you accentuate. And though your eyes are trained on his, you're more focused on the woman from your side view. “Ready to leave? Sorry I had to catch up with a friend earlier.”

He raises a brow for a moment, and you suspect it’s because you were never supposed to even be in the plan. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze and look away, embarrassed to have let your emotions alter the mission so much—but he seems more than pleased. In fact, the bastard grins.

“Yes, my love,” he snickers, snatching his arm away from the woman and looping the other around the waist. “Let us hurry. I cannot stand another moment being unable to ravage you under such—prying eyes.”

Somehow, your face gets hotter.

Before the woman can respond (though you doubt she even wanted to), he's leading you out the tavern into the cold air of the streets for a much needed breather on your part. You're almost certain you won't be going to that tavern for a while.

“‘My dear’?” he mimics, his lips stretching wider. “I’d believed I was the one with pet names in our relationship. You'd seemed quite adamant on calling me by my given name after all. Had a change of heart?”

Your voice is a mumble as you retort. “Must be the alcohol.”

“Really? Because if I didn't know any better, and I do,” he stops the two of you around the corner of the building in an isolated spot, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’d think you were jealous back there, darling.”

“I was just worried about you,” you blurt in a hurry. “Otherwise I wouldn't have butt in and—”

“Oh, my sweet sweet love,” he laughs. “I could feel you glaring from across the building. And I'm sure I could've sworn to see you slam your goblet a few times. No need to be ashamed. Jealousy is quite normal, and I'm more than flattered.”

“I’m not—” you begin, but her face flashes in your mind again. The way she'd touched his arms, his chest, and you knew she'd never know him the way you do. But it didn't quell the annoyance flickering in your chest. He raises a brow expectantly for your answer, and you quietly lift your hand to his arm, dusting it off.

Dusting her off.

And finally, you accept it. “I’m going to burn those clothes.”

He snorts. “I’m sure there's more romantic ways of getting me naked, but this’ll have to do for now.”

“I will. Then I’ll bury the ashes somewhere.”

“Charming.”

You look at him, disappointed—not in him, but yourself. Before you can drown in your own thoughts, he lifts his fingers to caress your face, smiling. “There really was no need to be jealous, darling.”

“I know,” you mutter. “I just—seeing her practically begging for your attention pissed me off.”

“And there's the difference between you and her. If it's worth even comparing at all,” he says, planting a peck to your forehead. “She begs a hopeless cause while I beg for you.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You don't need to beg me for attention.”

“I’m aware. I know how much you're fond of me and my gorgeous eyelashes.” You sigh at this. “But I must admit that a selfish part of me is a bit pleased by your reaction to that vile woman.”

“Why? This feels horrible.”

“Well, now you get a taste of what I want to do when I see you with that damned cleric,” he groans at the thought. “Yes, I am aware you two are the giddiest of friends, but whenever she puts her hands all over you for the sake of healing—”

You burst into a fit of laughter. “How else is she supposed to help?”

“I’m sure she can heal you from a safe distance away. Preferably twelve feet. Maybe more.”

Wordlessly, you calm your smile and press your lips to his, your fingers running through white curls. He holds you like you’re made of glass, gently.

The kiss is soft, even as you finally pull away. “Stupid vampire.”

“Silly darling.”

You don't complain when he pulls you closer for one last kiss.

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #fluff #jealousy #astarion

[bimbobaggins69]

Fooled round & fell in love

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?

warnings: fuck boy eddie, afab reader, cursing, eventual smut, might drag this friends to lovers thing out as much as I can or maybe reader will end up with Randy, who knows?

A/N: this is my first fic ever so be nice 🥹👉🏻👈🏻please reblog and comment it would mean everything to me. Also, got the idea of Randy’s name from randy rhoads 🖤

Thank you @myobmaya for reading this and giving me tips before posting.

“Oh my god! Fuck, I’m so sorry!” You screeched out over the loud music playing in your best friends van.

You slammed the door, still trying to take in what you had just seen, tears forming in your eyes and that familiar feeling of jealousy twisting at your insides. You decide to not torture yourself any longer and instead of going back in to the seedy bar with the rest of your friends you start your long stride home, unlucky for you, your walk is accompanied by racing thoughts of your best friend on top of some groupie. You’re not stupid, you know Eddie is a slut, he all but brags to you about his recent conquests, but you’ve never been faced with it like this, and even though you’re hopelessly in love with him, you can’t help but feel guilty for your feelings.

You and Eddie have been best friends since middle school when he was awkward and had that damn buzz cut. You had fallen in love with him sophomore year, you two had been almost inseparable but at that time he was also gaining a bit of a reputation as a “man whore” if you will

he enjoyed sleeping with different girls but always insisted love and relationships just weren’t for him, so of course you would do everything you could to hide your feelings, last thing you would want to do is fuck up your friendship and you’ve made yourself believe having Eddie in your life in any form is enough, but you’re not so sure about that anymore.

After making your way home from the hideout you decide you need a shower and some sleep, and to just forget about all this bullshit that won’t stop swirling around in your head. But of course not even a hot shower can help you cleanse your mind of that picture. You tell yourself you have no right to be jealous or angry, you’re not his girlfriend and never will be, but it still hurts.

After your shower you throw on some pajamas, brush your hair, put your Rainbow tape in your Walkman and blast stargazer until you drifted off to sleep.

It’s been two days since you talked to Eddie which wasn’t completely out of the norm being that you’ve graduated and it’s summer you don’t see him regularly like you’re use to but this is the longest you’ve gone without hearing his voice as you usually talk to him nightly on the phone. He’s called a few times but you had your mom tell him you weren’t home. You just can’t deal with any of it right now and you know if you see him you’ll let your feelings for him slip and mess up everything. So for now you’re sitting in bed listening to music, all you wanna do at the moment is get high and forget these feelings you can’t seem to shake but you usually get your weed from Eddie and that’s just not an option at the moment, as you physically shake that idea from your head, you remember someone else that can help supply you with what you need.

As you walk up to the front door of the familiar house you’ve come to many times as Eddie re-upped on his supply.

You take a deep breathe before you knock, a little uncomfortable given the fact that every time you did come with Eddie, Rick insisted on being flirty and a little handsy with you, but you were desperate for something to just ease your mind and relax you.

After three tentative knocks the door swings open.

“Y/n?” “Long time no see, what can I do for you?”

He looks around behind you, you think he’s probably looking for Eddie since you’ve never come here alone but you don’t give it a second thought.

You walk in and notice a couple guys sitting at the dining room table probably doing a quick deal too, you recognize them from school but they had long graduated before you. One of them catches your eye, you’ve definitely seen him around, he’s got long blonde curly hair, an Angel Witch band tee on, some dark blue jeans and high top adidas. Of course you’re fawning over another metal head “what the fuck is wrong with me?” You think to yourself. But before you give it anymore thought the man turns to you and says

“hey, aren’t you Eddie’s girl?”

You physically cringe at that.

“Um, n-no I’m not, w-we’re just friends”

“Really fucking smooth!” You internally scream at yourself.

He flashes you the most beautiful smile that makes your stomach flutter

“Oh! Good, good”

You’re kind of confused with that because, why is that good? But you don’t question it.

After Rick hands you your dime bag and you hand him the money you give a quick “thanks” as you turn around and walk out the door shutting it and walking down the drive way

when you get halfway down, you hear the door open and someone call your name.

“Hey, Y/n!”

You turn around to see that same beautiful smile that makes his eyes slant a bit, you swear this man could be Robert Plant and Dave mustaine’s love child “god was he gorgeous” you thought.

You raise your eyebrows as they disappear behind your bangs with a small wave and a side smile, could you be anymore awkward?

He puts his hand out and says “I’m Randy”

You already knew his name as he was three grades above you at Hawkins, but he’s definitely gotten a lot hotter after high school.

You smile and say “yeah we went to Hawkins together, but you were a senior when I was a freshman.”

He nods “yeah, yeah I know, just wasn’t sure if you did. So anyways, I was wondering if I could get your number and maybe we could hang out sometime?”

You return the wide smile as you try your best to stay calm and collected “y-yeah, that would be cool, but I don’t have a pen.” You say with slight disappointment

“Oh shit, um I think I have one in my car” He says as he turns around heading to the red Pontiac firebird, your jaw drops for a second because holy shit, his car is almost as sexy as him!

He turns around shaking the pen in his hand, like he’s just won some kind of prize, that makes you chuckle a bit.

He hands you the pen and his arm for you to scribble your number on, when you’re finished you give him a flirty little smirk as you say “I’ll talk to you later”

You turn around to start your way back home, but as you start he stops you again.

“Did you walk here?”

You nod

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal, I don’t live too far.”

He looks you up and down and then shakes his head “Get in, I’ll give you a ride.”

“You really don’t have to” you spit out

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to” he says while nodding his head over to his car silently telling you to get in.

You decide the best way to get over Eddie is by spending time with someone new, okay maybe not the most logical idea but anything’s better than being alone with your thoughts at the moment

and Randy seemed sweet and charming, possibly the perfect enough candidate to help you move on.

It’s been two weeks and you’ve successfully avoided Eddie Munson at all costs. He’s called, he’s dropped by your house and you’ve had your mom consistently tell him you just haven’t been home much lately. Half of that is true.

You’ve been on three dates with Randy so far, and you really hit it off, he’s really sweet, and super funny but that little nagging in your brain keeps telling you “he’s not Eddie!” and “he’ll never be Eddie!” You can’t help it you’ve been in love with him for 3 and half years now, and you’re only human

but you think you can learn to fall for Randy and maybe even eventually those feelings will over shadow the ones you have for Eddie

only time will tell, but for now you just want to have fun.

So here you are getting ready for a party Randy had invited you to, it was a mutual friend of Randy and Ricks so you knew there was a strong possibility Eddie would also be there as he never turned down an opportunity to get some fast cash.

You decided you wanted to look hot, hotter than hot! So you threw on something you never had the balls to leave the house in, a long bell sleeved shirt that tied in the front exposing lots of skin, you paired it with a black pleated skirt and some black thigh high socks and some chunky ankle boots. You did your makeup natural but with some winged liner and lashes, you took your hair out of the curlers and shook your head upside down a couple times trying to elicit the most amount of body before spraying it with hairspray and finally spritzing yourself with some perfume.

You never went out of your way to get yourself this ready, but you loved it, made you feel kind of empowered in a way.

By the time you were fully finished getting ready you heard a knock at the door and since no one was home you rushed downstairs to answer it, but it was not who you were expecting.

“Y/N?!” Eddie said while looking you up and down with an unreadable expression on his face

“Eddie? What are you doing here?”

You asked wide eyed and with a slight annoyed edge to your voice

“You’ve been avoiding me!”

He says while pushing his way inside your house

“I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve been busy”

A little lie, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Busy doing what?” He looks you up and down again

“I’ve been seeing someone, and we’ve been hanging out a lot recently, he’s actually on his way here right now, so you should probably go”

Eddie looks like a kicked puppy for a quick second but tries to fight it off before you can see by putting on a fake smile

“Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”

As soon as those words leave his mouth you hear a car pull up in your driveway, you know it’s Randy and you really wanted to avoid this whole interaction for a little bit longer, but it was no use now.

You ignore Eddie and decide to just let him see who it is for himself. Eddie knew who Randy was, they were acquaintance’s at best, but never enough to call each other friends, plus Randy was older and cooler than Eddie, or atleast that’s how Eddie felt.

So when he finally knocked on the door and you answered it, he stood there with flowers in hand looking at you all bug eyed, taking you all in with his mouth hanging open. Eddie let out a low scoff, almost low enough for you not to catch but you did.

If you would’ve let yourself you would’ve overthought that scoff until your head hurt

Because what the hell is his problem? he has no reason to feel any type of way about anyone you choose to talk to, after you’ve sat back and heard him talk about girl after girl, he had no right to say anything about Randy!

“Hey Eddie, what’s up?” Randy says

Eddie just tilts his head up slightly to give him a silent “what’s up” and then turns his attention back on you

But you turn around taking the flowers out of Randy’s hand and giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“These are beautiful, babe! Thank you”

Eddie visibly cringes at the pet name.

You didn’t see it but Randy definitely did, so just to rile him up a bit more Randy tells you

“You look fucking incredible, baby! Maybe we should just skip the party and go back to my place?”

He says with a joking edge to his voice. You and Randy have gone to second base but have not gone all the way yet and you were maybe hoping tonight would be the night

You really just wanted to get over Eddie and you thought by sleeping with Randy you’d have a better chance, so you and him have talked about it and even had phone sex a couple nights ago, so what he said wasn’t completely out of left field but it made you feel weird him saying it in front of Eddie, even though you literally walked in on Eddie and some girl fucking a couple weeks ago.

God you’ve done everything you can to get that image out of your head, just for it to be brought right back

“But I’m really excited for the party!” You say with your best doe eyes.

“Oh you guys are going to Eric’s party?” Eddie interrupts while standing there looking rather awkward

“Yeah we are, are you?” You ask

“Um, yeah I was gunna stop buy for an hour or so just to sell, make some quick cash, ya know?”

Eddie says while scratching the back of his neck

You nod.

“Well I guess we’ll see you there” Randy says trying to end the weird tension.

Eddie looks at you one last time with the same expression as earlier, almost like longing mixed with a hint of jealousy. But you’re a chronic over thinker and professional self doubter so that’s probably not it at all.

part 2

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you

[barcaluvv]

Make me MARC GUIU X READER

You and Marc have already been in a so-called relationship for 2 years, ever since he started his football career and when he got famous you felt like he doesn't love you anymore, although he never showed any jealous side until..

You fought all the time and he honestly didn't care, but the way he makes you feel was more important than that.

He didnt really like physical touch, but u loved putting your head on his biceps and inhale his scent, despite he would just push you away in any given moment.

It all happened one night, you were there to support him play against athletico madrid, the opposite team is strong but marc did his best. He noticed while he was gazing from the field to the bench seeing some Athletico madrid player hitting you up, and when i tell you his face went straight, dead serious, he was ready to literally beat the shit out him for even trying to touch you.

But he was patient, waiting for the player to join the game. He player kept pushing him on the field like he was the ball, at one point whispering to Marc "Yo girl is fucking hot" with a big disgusting smile on his face. Fermin and Felix looked at eachother knowing there would be a red card facing Marc sooner or later because he started to hit him in the back of his neck, aggressively mumbling " peace of shit" repeating this several times . The teammates tried to calm Marc down but he was constant with making this moment his last one. And as expected he needed to get out of the field. Without even a single look given, he rushed taking of his shirt whipping the sweat from his hair. Cursing his way down the stairs. Moments after the trainer said "Y/n you should go check on him he does stupid things when he gets angry" you went after him without saying a word. "Marc what the fuck have you done?! Are you out of your mind?! WTF?" .

You pulled him by his arm, seconds after he immediately snaps out of your touch.

" Talk to him again and I'll snap his neck you understand, i bet you liked how he was flirting with you didn't you" you got scared and threw yourself on the first bench next to him, with tears in your eyes.

"No, don't cry baby i didnt mean to make you emotional". He pulled you in his arms, grabbing your hair and with a aggression starting to kiss you.

he started shaking your head with two of his arms, while you closed your eyes at his words.

"Youre mine, dont you forget that" .

#fc barcelona #pablo gavi #gavi fluff #gavi x reader #gavi x yn #love #marc guiu #marc guiu fanfic #barca

[jacksonlywife]

        A Kiss For A Kiss

(Jujutsu Kaisen Boys React to Their S/O Kissing them)

(GN!Reader)

TW: Suggestive, Making out, Toji being stinky...erm

Gojo Satoru:

Knowing your boyfriend was the overly clingy time and always the one to indicate any kind of physical affection between you two made you a bit shocked. You didn't want to admit it but you felt like the lazy one in the relationship. A guilt crept onto you.

Then an idea popped into your head. What if you started it? It would probably cheer Gojo up and you wouldnt feel that guilt anymore. Plus you wanted to give him affection. Look at his cute little face. (Cough) Hot looking. 

You and your boyfriend were sitting next to each other on the couch watching Shrek. (Yes Shrek do not say anything.) And you decided the best way to give him a piece of your affection would be a little ol smooch.

You leaned in as he looked at you with confusion and pecked his lips leaving a wide eyed Gojo Satoru.

“Babe what's this?” He pouts his lips out his ears a red tint.

“A kiss.” You mumble a flush creeping onto your neck.

All of a sudden Gojo pinned you down and placed his lips onto yours. You expected just a small kiss back but it turned into a heavy make out session with tongues intertwining and saliva mixing. 

You pull back out of breath.

“S-Satoru..what was that? I gave you a small peck.” You blush giving him an angry look but you didn’t seem to have minded the kiss he gave you at all.

“It's only fair if I give you one too, no?”  He smirked, licking his lips.

Geto Suguru:

Geto always gave you space when you needed it unlike Gojo. He wasn’t clingy but would be lying if he said he didn’t want to hold you. Your body fit into his like a glove as you two were out on a picnic munching on some sweets.

You don’t remember the last time you and Geto actually kissed. No you do not mean forehead kisses and cheek pecks. But lip kisses. You smirked and leaned closer as Geto looked at you with confusion.

That was quickly replaced with a look of surprise as you gently kissed his lips. He blushed lightly and touched his lips in a seductive manner.

“Oh? What's this darling?” He looks at you with a teasing small smile.

“Wanted to kiss you.” You blush and turn your head obviously flustered.

“Can I give you one in return?” He picks up your chin, his bangs tickling your forehead as he gets close. 

You were a blushing mess.

“W-well I-” You were shushed with a kiss initiated by Geto. A small delicate kiss. Romance was filled with it and it made your stomach ache in butterflies. As he let go he smiled again.

“I love you.” He ruffled your hair with a caress.

Toji Fushiguro:

Toji wasn’t one for personal space. You didn’t mind it though. He didn’t really do anything. If he did something that made you uncomfy he’d let go immediately, rub the back of his neck and apologize mumbling.

It was cute.

Toji and you were laying in bed. He was giving you a back hug, his huge arms secured around your waist as his face was right above your shoulder nuzzling into your neck at times. Even sniffing it.  You smack his head playfully.

Then an idea pops in your head. You hadn’t given Toji a kiss. Yall would kiss a lot so going even an hour without it would be weird.

You turn your body around in his grasp making him look at you with a “why did you do that” kind of look because he clearly wanted to continue back hugging you. Though that look vanished as you placed your lips onto his gently.

Toji flinched into the kiss surprised but soon pulled you in closer trying to make it passionate but you pushed him away.

“It's 7am.” You mumble giving him a disapproving look.

“Pleeeeease?” Toji pouted his lips but it made him look terrifying. (Still hot though.)

“No.” You say sternly.

“Fine.” He mumbled turning around so you couldn't see his expression.

You sigh.

“Fine. One more.” He immediately turns back around and begins kissing your lips once again.

#established relationship #geto suguru #jjk geto #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #romance #fluff #i love you #x reader #cute #i love him #i love this #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

[onyourhyuck]

Rules. | Lee Haechan (M)

prologue- “Goodnight.” + “Don’t do that. We don’t do that.”

summary: you and your boyfriend donghyuck have one rule. Don’t go to bed angry at each other. But after a heated argument and one misunderstanding, all you wanted was to sleep and not speak to him.

tw- angst. romance. boyfriend!Haechan. arguments. Honestly a healthy relationship but with ups and downs.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You’re wrong.” Haechan states as he watches you shift on the sofa. You’re mentally rolling your eyes at him, quite literally.

Lately you’ve been arguing a lot together. But this time you were on your wit’s end. Currently the conversation resolves around the party from last night and ever since then you have been on edge. You confront Haechan about it, hoping he could bring closure but all he has given to you was chaos and even more unnecessary anxiousness.

“I am not. That girl that gave her number to you has the hots for you.” You sigh out. You’d think he would take your advice, considering she literally groped around him all party and pushed you out of the picture everytime you tried to dance with him last night. Hell, even the neos were hella confused!

Johnny and mark wanted to comfort you. They found it weird. You’re not necessarily possessive or anything like that. Sure, you can get jealous. But not really possessive when other girls approach him. You are not worried. He’s literally obsessed with you from head to toe.

But this girl. This girl has added more pressure to your relationship with Haechan than anything before. Considering you have been arguing with him a lot weeks before, obviously a sudden girl groping your boyfriend and dancing with him when he was out of his blank mind drunk, was going to absolutely piss you right off the edge.

He groans out. “Listen. She isn’t into me. I don’t know what you have seen but whatever you did it’s not happened.”

“You were literally drunk outta your mind.” You point out defensively. “I know what i saw. Even Johnny said so.”

His eyes avert to the ceiling as he stands up holding out his face in the palms, walking about. Another argument. Day by day. None of you know how this has began, actually you guys cannot remember where or when it started; or about what. You don’t have the time for each other lately too, barely speak to one another and when you do speak it’s about something that annoys you both. It’s crazy. This wasn’t the relationship as it was last month. Haechan is at his breaking point and so are you.

“Johnny has nothing to do with this.” Haechan said. “It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re jealous and lately, you’ve been really annoying y/n.”

He looks at you with eyes you could not recognise. This wasn’t the guy you fell for. Just what changed? He looks the same. But he doesn’t feel the same as before. “You’re controlling.” He said finally.

“I’m controlling?” You repeat. You? Controlling? Since when in the space of time have you ever tried to take control of what Lee Haechan has ever done? You aren’t sure if what he said was in the heat of the moment. Or perhaps he lost his mind. It’s not like you told him to delete her phone number. You only told him what’s been bothering you about her. You force out a bitter laugh.

“Ah. I’m controlling. Okay then.” You sorely said, standing up from the sofa. You avoid meeting his eyes. Honestly it’s painful to even imagine looking at your boyfriend, sure what he said it isn’t true and you know it’s not but that doesn’t change the fact that those words left your boyfriend’s mouth and it hurts when someone you really love said something about you that is completely negative and untrue. So you avoid his eyes, the more your heart breaks the more you cannot take it anymore.

Silence leaves you both. Haechan felt the tension rose and somehow he found himself regretting what he said just a few minutes ago with confidence too. He felt your cold distance. He felt his girlfriend’s heart breaking as if it were see-through and made of fragile porcelain material.

You bring your voice out forcefully. “Goodnight.” You tell him as you watch the clock on the wall. It’s late and if anything was going to make you feel better, it would be sleep. You’re tired and drained, all of this makes you feel absolutely done with everything.

“Don’t do that. We don’t do that.”

He begins making you stop on your way to the bedroom as you grip the doorknob. You let go and turn around to look at Haechan. “What am i doing now?” You said with frustration. “Do what.” You repeat.

“We don’t go to bed unhappy with each other.” Haechan firmly said as he comes forward holding his hand to grab yours pulling you closer. “Listen- I’m sorry. I’m not just saying that i am sorry because you’re going to bed. I actually feel bad for what i said to you all these weeks.”

“I don’t know what’s been happening with us. Change is scary. We barely have time for each other now .” He softly told as he clenched his eyes together. You weren’t the only one breaking. In secret he was breaking too.

“You’re not annoying.” Haechan points out. “You’re not controlling either. You were right. I was wrong.”

You bring your hands round his waist as you rest your face in his chest. Haechan softly putting his hand on your head, petting it in slow circular motions. He heard you sniffle in which he brought your body closed and he bites his bottom lip, chewing on it anxiously. You broke down first, hearing you cry was enough for him to break down faster right after you. In which he cried too, silently, as he was wanting to comfort you more.

“I’m sorry too.” You start. “I’m not always right. I can be wrong too.”

“No.” He quickly responds back as he held your face in his hands now bringing you closer to his. “You’re always right in my eyes, y/n.” You wipe your thumb on his cheeks, caressing away the tears. He smiles when you softly smile back.

The two of you makeup quickly. Though all relationships have useless arguments it’s always good to cry about it together than do a bland ‘sorry’ and get it over with. You linger in each other’s embrace before he whispers,

“I think we should add a new rule.” Haechan tells and you raise your eyebrow, looking at him. “What rule?”

“Tell each other first when something is wrong. That way we can work through things together without arguments in the future.” You smile at his words and lean to tip toe, pecking his lips.

“I agree.” You reply. Haechan’s eyes soften staring at you as he holds on your waist, mauling his lips on yours. He kissed you deeply with lots of love and appreciation you couldn’t comprehend quickly enough.

Boundaries and Rules are important in relationships, you learned that today.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! REBLOG THIS FIC AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE IF YOU WANT TO SEE MORE CONTENT <33

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct hard hours #nct series #nct fic #nct masterlist #nct hard thoughts #nct scenarios #nct u smut #nct fanfic #nct dream smut #nct haechan smut #haechan smut #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours #lee haechan #nct dream fanfic #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan x reader

[secret-smut-sideblog]

A Dangerous Thing

Astarion x F! Dark Urge

18+ violence, possession, near death, implied self harm, bhaal being fucked up, injuries, fear, hurt/comfort, fingering (f!), oral (f!), sub/dom, (mild) restraint, overstimulation

Almost losing her to Bhaal's influence, Astarion wont let her out of his sight again...

-

In trance he becomes aware of an absence at his side, her divine warmth missing.

"Darling?" He mumbled, fingers searching for her. A breeze on his cheek.

Eyes flashing open to the chasm of his tent door.

Gone.

Scrambling to feet he lunged out into the night, eyes frantic.

It was getting bad, he knew. Saw the way she would freeze, muscles clenching all at once. Paralyzed as she fought for control.

Would do his best to touch her with love, speak reassured to her rigid body. Help her back into herself, though he didnt know how much good it was doing.

We're close. She had sighed. The temple is near, I can feel it. Shuddered. I feel it everywhere.

Fuck. Fuck. He ran tent to tent, looking for those pale horns, those haunting eyes.

He had gotten sloppy, losing focus. Gods why did she put him in charge?!

"Whoa, Fangs! What's going on?" Karlach called, already pulling her boots on seeing the panic in his face.

"She's gone! Hells we have to find her!" He shouted, hands shaking. Eyes everywhere, in every shadow, every space between.

"Shit!" She went to wake the others, sounding out like an alarm.

Finally he saw a sign of her. Sharp footsteps leading into the forest, the heels deep in the mud. She had been running.

No time, he sprinted after her ghost. Calling out her name in big gulping shouts. Heard the others following behind.

I think if I couldn't control it anymore. She had whispered, their hands intertwined. Laying in blissful quiet. I'd end it. Said with such certainty, eyes resolute. It would be my last offering for the world. To stop myself. To leave it untouched.

He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not when she has given him so much. Not before he can tell her he loves her one more time.

Gods let him have this, this one bright beautiful thing.

He gasped out her name when he spotted her silhouette in a clearing. Sitting on knees in the dark.

His voice curdled in his throat as he drew closer, took in the full sight.

Her arms laying limp at her side, face wrenched up to the sky. Bhaal's red lights dancing sickening circles around the crown of her head. Eyes blown wide, glowing red hot.

"Here!" He shouted shakenly to the others somewhere behind, hovering around her. "She's here!"

Terrified into indecision. Hands reaching out, he had to do something.

"Get out!" Her jaw clenching down so hard he thought it would crack. He jumped back, breath caught.

"You are not welcome here. You are not me. You are not in charge." She hissed through her teeth, speaking to something unseen, rage dripping from every word.

"I guided your hand when you spilled your first blood." A deep nauseating voice erupted from her mouth, forming words with her lips. "I have always been here. I am all of you. I am eternal."

Her face going slack into a sickening smile. "You will to say yes to me, child."

Eyes clenching shut, face twisting, pulling back into her mind. "Fuck. You." Her voice venomous.

Lifted invisible by her throat she hovered in the air, legs slack beneath her. Feet grazing the ground. Sigils burning and whipping angry around her.

"I love you." Lashes emerging across her torso. "I love you." Cracking of ribs. "I love you." Arm wrenched from socket, flopping down at her side.

"Stop," Astarion breathed, despair flooding his vision. "Stop, stop, stop!" A rising scream chanted.

Her head lolling puppeteered to look at him. Eyes wide, all radiating crimson. A horrible smile smeared across her angelic face.

"The interloper..." It sneered in her features, amused. "Tell me, little waste..." Turning her in one motion to face him, hovering far higher above the ground. Her full body weight on her throat. Yet it still it spoke.

"Do you really think you can stop her?" Leaning her head down to stare condescending into him. "How long do you think she will resist her call? To deny her birthright?"

"I molded her myself, my body, my blood. She will heed to me."

"You're just another master, another piece of shit that needs control. You dont impress me." He spat. "I've killed one of you before, and I'll enjoy doing it again."

It laughed, booming. Lifting her arms wide, sigils spinning hurricane around her.

He heard the others coming up hot behind him, a flurry of noise. Spells, arrows, enchantments soaring through the air. All hitting mute against the cyclone. It cackled, delighted at their attempts.

Suddenly she wrenched back to the surface, body twisting. "Get away! Go!" Her desperate eyes reaching his. "I can finish this!"

"No!" He bellowed, enraged. "Let us help you! For once let us be the strong ones!" Bloody tears streaming down his shouting face.

Her eyes crumpled at his words and something in the hold broke.

In a piercing wail she fought against her restraints, hair whipping around her head. Pulling her limbs with incredible force against its control. Balling into herself. Releasing them out in a deafening scream. An explosion of force leaving her, pushing them all to their knees.

Prone, he watched her fall. Thudding silent to the ground. "No, no," He begged, crawling to her unmoving body. "Dont leave. Dont leave me."

Cradling her head he stared through thick water. Searching. Desperate. Hands coaxing, pleading, for her to come back.

Shadowheart, Halsin, and Minthara appearing quick at her side, pummeling healing words into her. Lighting her up in waves of blue.

"You can't go. I wont let you." He gripped her as they shouted around him, his tears dropping onto her mottled bruised neck. "I will search every corner of the afterlife and drag you back to us."

Giving it everything she had Shadowheart shouted one last spell, her hands bracing against her still chest.

Silence. Then with a heaving, gasping cough she returned. Hand instinctively finding his cheek.

A deep wail left him, pulling her into him, inconsolable. Body shaking with great heaving sobs of relief.

"Ow." She laughed wetly. Good arm shakily holding him. Eyes bright, meeting the tear stained faces that surrounded them through the window of his shoulder. "Hi everyone."

They all rushed around her, touching her, hugging her, voices all melding into one joyful choir. Still gripping her to his body they held him too.

Karlach planting big kisses on her face. Even planting a quick softer one on his forehead. "Welcome back, soldier!" She boomed. "Dont ever do that shit again!" Yelled with the same smile.

She laughed painfully, clenching her side. "Fuck, okay. You've convinced me."

"We need to get her back to camp." Shadowheart gently squeezed Astarion's shoulder. He agreed but still had his face buried into her. Tremoring.

"Let me lend some aid." Halsin smiled, offering his arms. Waiting for Astarion to release.

Loathe to let her go but knew he wouldn't be able to carry her in this state he nodded.

The druid lifting her gently into his arms she was absent from him. She gave a little sigh into the wide chest. He trailed close, never taking his eyes off her.

She smiled gently at him, reaching out for him. Finding his fingers in hers. Gods, she was cold.

He kissed them, pressing them against his cheek.

"You're okay to sleep, love." She hushed, trailing her hand down his back. "I can get one of the others."

In her tent, made into a makeshift infirmary he shook his head. Only last night she had nearly been lost and his body was still vibrating with anxious energy. Trying not to pace.

"We've moved camp, we're far enough away from the temple now." She tried to reassure. He waved her away, back still turned.

Her hand stopped on his back. Quiet. Still.

"I'm sorry I'm the one you love." A whisper.

He whipped his head, angry. The tears on his face that he had been trying to hide from her laid bare.

"No. No you dont get to do that." Eyes alight in equal parts adoration and indignation. "I have been broken apart countless times and you are by far the best thing that has ever happened to me. The only person who could ever understand me."

Face twisting in grief, in determination. "I have waited lifetimes for you. How dare you apologize."

Catching the light her tears slipped quiet out of her eyes. Even in this state unbelievably beautiful, always catching him off guard. Neck still patches of green, purple, yellow. Arm slung snugly in a sling. One tip of her horns now notched, caught in her fall. He trailed his hand along it tenderly, never to be the same again.

"I'm sorry." She choked, hearing the heavy catch in her throat.

"Stop." He stared hard into her eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

He pulled her hard into his body. Burying his face in her hair. "I love you. I love you. I love you so much." He pressed his words into her.

"I will never regret you. I will never have something like this again. Even in a hundred years I will never stop thinking of you."

A sob wracked her chest, shaking into him. One arm gripping his shirt. Releasing her grief, her fear into his cool body.

He stroked her hair, wrapping his legs around her lower back. Pulling her fully into him. Yes, let it out.

They stayed like that for a moment, hands anchoring eachother. Her waves of sorrow striking his chest. Breathing in, out.

"When I die I'm haunting your ass so hard." She whispered raggedly, her tears finally slowing. He laughed, wiping his own wet face.

"I'd be offended if you didnt, my sweet."

Pulling back to look at him, eyes overflowing with love. "Ow, damn it." Readjusting her arm in its sling as she shifted. "How long did Shadowheart say this should take again?" She huffed. He tried to hide his smile.

"What's the point of healing magic if it doesn't get the job done..." Grumbling her frustration.

"Already thinking about the next task? Gods you're relentless." He teased.

"We have things to do!"

"Oh how could you possibly take a break, the torment you must endure." He admonished, trailing kisses along her face.

She giggled, the sound lighting up his heart. Caught her sweet mouth in a kiss. Slow. Deep.

She moaned lightly into him, hand cupping the back of his head. Pulling him in deeper.

He sighed contentedly, so glad to do this again. That they had more time. More time for him to get lost in her.

Her hand pulling the ties of his tunic.

"Wait," He breathed, to her discontented whine. Hand still trying to pull him open.

Threading his fingers in hers, he pulled away. "My sweet, slow down." Took her eyes in his. Her mouth slightly swollen from their kiss making him stifle a groan, despite himself.

"You're in no state-"

"Then be gentle." She countered.

"Darling..." He started, unsure.

"Please," She whispered, pushing her forehead into his. Threaded fingers tightening on his. "I need you, I need this."

Gentle, he thought. Gods did he know how to fuck gentle? Had he? Maybe some time in the past, long before.

Could see the nervousness in her eyes as well, asked for entrance to her mind.

She obliged, and he found their thoughts mingling. Not the exact same, but rhyming. Fear. Longing. Love. Pain. Things lost. Things terrified to be found.

He smiled warmly, pulling her back into his kiss. I told you. He spoke to her.

What? She thought.

You and I know eachother. I see you, you see me. See me so clearly.

So is that a yes? Could feel her cheeky smile against his lips.

He sighed, defeated. Trying not to prove his rising arousal as she gave a little squeal of triumph.

Now, how to do this delicately. He pushed them forward, laying her down onto her back. Hand bracing her slow descent. Though he focused on undressing her as softly as he could, his kiss was searing.

Her hand pulled his shirt hard over his head, he maneuvered his arms to assist her. Her leg hooking up under his, pushing it out to be straddling over her.

"Oh so only I have to be gentle..."

"Do you want me to be?" She rumbled in his ear, sending a shudder down his spine.

"Gods no,"

Pulling the last of her clothes off he stared down at her, breath taken. Both by her beauty and the state of her body.

Criss cross slashes stretching across her torso, sewn deftly closed. Bruises that veiled over her ribs. Could see the discoloration between the tight bandages holding her shoulder.

Trying not to be overcome again, he leaned down, ghosting soft kisses over her angry skin.

"You'll tell me if we need to stop, yes?" He urged.

She smiled down at him, carding her fingers through his hair. "Of course, my love."

Satisfied he continued his feather light lips down her front.

"How are you so beautiful?" He marveled.

Delighted in the blush that crept up to her cheeks. To make a bhaalspawn blush, his bhaalspawn.

"Darling this position you've so graciously put me in gives me an idea." He mused, absentmindedly swirling little circles on her clit. One leg over her hip, one between her thighs. He stood up on knees, getting a better feel. Oh this could work.

"Good thing your lower extremities are unscathed, sweet thing." Grabbing a pillow he lifted her by one plush thigh and pushed it under her hips. Heard her little aroused groan at being manhandled. "Yes this will do nicely." He preened, now had the perfect angle.

"I never doubted you for a second." She tried for teasing but couldn't hide the lust in her voice.

His free hand dragging soft up and down her entrance, joining his fingers already worshipping her hard mound. Hands busy he had the perfect view to watch her unwind under him.

Her head fell back, arching slightly. Horns digging against the pillow.

He slowly inserted two digits into her, shallowly pumping. The angle perfect to go as far as he could, but not yet. Just teasing her entrance. Fingers on her clit pushing more force. Her little gasping breaths goading him on.

Started pushing inside her with earnest, fingers curling in the way he knew made her mewl. Hand on her clit feather light.

Alternating his force back and forth between his two hands he could tell he was driving her mad. Slick already dripping down under his fingers.

"Astarion," She groaned, hand gripping the sheet.

"I'm all pointy ears, darling." He teased, switching hands again just to make her gasp.

"Gods, please fuck me already." She panted, looking into his eyes.

"Ah, but we need to be careful." He purred, smiling like a fox cornering a hen. "Nothing too strenuous, you know. Gotta make sure you're-" Both hands with pressure, her eyes rolling back in her head. "Up to it." He finished.

"You know I can kill you, right?"

"Oh we're doing threats now," He hissed, smiling down over her. "How rude."

Both hands working in a blur she was an incoherent writhing mess. Hips trying to get away. He sat his weight on her side, pinning her there. "Oh come on now, I know you can take it."

He knew she was so close to being undone as he watched. Her hot panting groans getting more frantic, higher. Hips squirming helplessly under him.

Leaning over he looked into her eyes. "I want you to come all over my hand."

Her eyes went wide then squeezed shut. Face contorting in anguished pleasure. Clenching down hard on his fingers she wailed an esctastic cry. Hips jutting up into his body, hiking him up. Shocked by the strength of her.

Moving down quickly he pushed his mouth into her, tongue working rapidly. Taking up the pace of his fingers.

She almost screamed, hand gripping his hair.

Wrapping his arms around her retreating thighs he ravaged. Groaning into her, already so much creamy slick pushing out of her. All for him.

Already on the cusp of a second orgasm he watched her through her spread legs. Suckling down hard on her clit, merciless.

"Oh gods, oh fuck," She whimpered, head craning back. Pelvis shaking.

So perfect, you taste so sweet. He thought to her, connecting their minds. Honeysuckle... Groaning into her.

Her mouth falling open in a silent scream, eyes hitching. Seizing under his mouth, head lolling. Her body an arched bridge. Sharp talons leaving his hair and ripping into the sheet.

He palmed over her overstimulated core as she collapsed, knew his cool hand would bring relief. Kissing softly below her navel. Her body still trembling, breath regaining from the drown of her pleasure.

"If I wasnt already in the infirmary.." She breathed when she found her words again.

He laughed, sliding in next to her. Adjusting her slightly so he could slot under her. Wrapping his leg around her side, straddled behind her.

She fell back into his chest, already spent.

"Damn, maybe I'm not as ready as I thought I was." She laughed, threading her hand into his.

"Told you." He murmured into her hair. Pulling their joined hands to his lips.

She got quiet for a moment, knocking her head gently into his.

"I'm going to get better, I promise." Speaking on more than her injuries.

"I know, my sweet girl."

~

Part 5

#this one got away from me ngl #possession scene Heavily inspired by ptolemaea by ethel cain (lyrics from it too) #astarion smut #astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav

[pascalsbby]

The Devil & His Brother / II

Joel x Tommy x You

Prologue / Part I / Masterlist

Summary: “Good, been staring out the window for far too long,” he said. “You can look at something prettier now. Close your eyes, bunny.”

He slipped around on the wetness of your lips before he parted them with one, thick finger.

“Stick out your tongue for me.”

AKA: Bath time with the Millers 😈

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: 18 + mndi, DUBCON DRUG USE: enemies to lovers, heavy talk & use of drugs/pills, morally grey Millers, slow-burn, angst/comfort/sex, age gap, power imbalance, possessive tendencies, major daddy issues (that’s why you need BOTH Miller brothers instead of 1). talk of death, shit-talking god & praying for the devil himself.

I feel like I'm sending out something so personal... and familiar in ways that I know aren't. Maybe that's how memories feel after a while.

God is fucking with my oblivion. If he wants forgiveness, he shouldn't have given us memory.

- Vi Khi Nao

“Can’t do it, Joel.” 

“Goddamnit.” His huff was deep and bothered by your apparent inability to do anything he asked of you.

His anger didn't sit with you, but himself. He didn't really know that, though. Doesn't feel too much beneath the thickness of his skull. Hard-headed fucker.

The scent of you hung leaden in the steam-filled bathroom. Iron. Blood. Something saccharine that made him ache as he peeled your clothes from your weak skin. Lately, his temper has been short, and unbeknownst to you he hasn’t always been this way. Even in recent years. You assumed he was always like this, further etching the lines that softened on his face (only after yelling at you), but he would argue that you were acting like a little fuckin’ brat… so his snippy remarks were justified. 

"Did all the work of carryin' you here and now you're gonna off yourself? Cause you won't let me help you bathe in the only hot bath water you've seen since you were what.... sixteen? M' not that big and scary, Bunny."

You both had your own ways of dealing with things, you guessed. Verbal expression of any kind besides small, whispered sentences had been scarce. Except for when he was angry. Except for right now.

You stopped listening because suddenly nothing seemed to matter too much. It didn’t all feel so black and white; life-ending like he was making it seem, being a real grump. 

“Are you listenin’ to m–?” 

His tuneful voice now sounded hollow as it bounced off of your blurring peripheral vision. 

You didn’t answer Joel, instead, you listened to the music in your head and wondered how it got there. How you got into his arms. 

Joel called Tommy’s name after you stumbled into his warmth. You winced at his raised voice, almost breaking you from a blissful trance. “God damnit Tommy, get in here. I can’t hold her up and wash her at the same time.” Ten minutes of Joel trying to get you in the bath like you were a fucking toddler was enough. He wouldn’t be able to hold your body up and wash you simultaneously, either. It was a two-person job to do it correctly, and gently. 

Tommy returned an hour or so earlier, saying whoever had followed them had taken another way around, but they’d seen fresh hoof marks. “It’s weird Joel,” he said. 

“Fuck, I just washed these jea-“ his voice coming from down the hallway. He turned the corner, changed into clean clothes, and was taken aback by your bare chest staring back at him from underneath Joel’s veined arm. His skin burns into yours.

“What the fuck did you give her?” He was immediately angry. 

Give me? Peace. Radiating warmth, you thought. He didn’t know that you didn’t feel a lot anymore, but you knew deep down that you felt something more for Joel.

 “She’s in pain, Tommy. Only thing she’s felt in the past nine years is pain. Help me get her in here and then take off the fucking jeans then, I don’t care. Get some towels and then get in here. Don’t know how much time we have ‘fore it wears off.” Joel growled. Then you close your eyes and let go, swimming through the low buzz in between their thrown bickers.

He’d talked real sweet to you, in hopes of getting you to take a bath. Mostly because being 'somewhere else' would be best when washing your wound, away from the water gripping at your side. Another small reason was that he didn’t want to hear you mumble, “no,” again. You needed a proper bath if you were ever going to get better. Although you didn’t seem too interested in such

That must have been the extent of Tommy’s anger, because he listens exactly to what Joel says. He unlocks his leather-backed metal belt and it hits the floor in the same instance, cling. He doesn’t mention the pills again, just takes his jeans off before he turns the handles of the running bath off and assumes his position outside of it. Joel takes his own shirt off, skin soft-looking and warm. He was sweating, skin slightly glowing from the sweat reflecting the bathroom lights. You could smell him. He kept his boxers on, still maintaining a sliver of his respect. He was willing his cock to follow the same.

He sunk himself into the bathwater with a deep groan, one of relief. Tommy walked you closer and helped you climb into the bath. It burned, felt like it was boiling. You were standing in it now, between Joel’s legs, hands still enclosed in Tommy’s as he helped you keep your balance. Joel was trying not to think about how your core was aligned perfectly before him as you stood. You turned, ass swaying as you prepared to sit on his clothed lap. They both looked away as your body was fluctuating in the prettiest fucking way they’d both ever seen. 

“S’okay baby, sit down.” You bent down to hold the sides of the tub, letting Tommy go. You were spread open right in front of Joel’s face, the back of your pussy practically calling to him as it finally came in contact with his lap. 

Tommy turns around and sighs before walking out of the bathroom to fetch towels like an obedient dog. Joel shuffled you, with what would have been awkward silence between the three of you if two of you weren’t high. If one of you hadn’t just left the room.

Joel has already swallowed his dusty piece of sanctuary. You had too, in the tea he made you thirty minutes ago. He was dangling another pill in front of you, now that Tommy was out of sight. This time allowing you a choice; rather than remain silent as it swam down your throat.

"Let me help you sum’ more, baby. Gonna give you something to help the hurt. Don’t go running, an’ don't tell Tommy. He wouldn't like that I'm makin’ you feel good."

Telling Tommy would consist of more non-compartmentalized guilt and yet another thing for him to look down upon Joel for. Another bullet point to add to Tommy’s list of Reasons Joel is a Fucking Asshole. And you needed help right now. This is how he could help you. So no, he would not be telling Tommy that he fed the girl more pills, too. She was simply exhausted and needed help bathing. She was in pain and needed him; them. Tommy would have done the same, no?

He slipped around on the wetness of your lips before he parted them with one, thick finger. 

“Stick out your tongue for me.”

He notes your lack of hesitation to open your mouth for him. He places the bitter thing there, gently. 

“Swallow.” 

He smirked as you obeyed.

“You’re a’ good little thing, you know. S'good to listen and mind.” He tucked your hair behind your ear so that it wouldn’t keep falling in your face.

His drugs were now yours. His regrets, too. And he secretly hoped that his desires were burning into your body and being met with the same inner incineration. But he wasn’t regretting it right that moment. Not as he watched your body slacken. He knew your entire being was numb when you were reaching up at him, fingers looking for feeling. 

His thumb ran across the plumpness of your bottom lip and his thighs flexed inadvertently. You felt the small jerk of his body, your eyes drawn upwards meeting his. He felt the moment your breathing became deeper, slipping through his skull and resting on the center of his lust. Then he heard the teetering of the old house as it sang. He heard chatter outside, and it all sounded happy, nothing scary around. He returned to your nose, where a little black wish sat, kissing your cheek. He moved his thumb up to brush the eyelash away and whisper his own silent prayer.

You looked around his face before resting your gaze on his lips, and he knew that you were slipping deeper too. The moment ended in a split second torn into a million, and you were looking him in the eyes. Your pupils are already blown, helpless, and in need of strong arms to hold you upright. It fucking hurt. You hadn’t been so willing without the drugs. The pit of his stomach crawled in need as your back rested against it. Your ass was scooted up, and he could feel the break between your legs, could feel the warmer skin of your pussy kissing his thighs.

He loosely assumed that you’d never been in the bath with a man before, either. Probably never been naked in front of one... or two. And he knew that it shouldn’t be something he was proud of, to have you here, safe in his arms and naked in his bath. But he was. 

“Feel something?”

“Mhmm.” 

He felt your response in the tone of your flexing abdomen. His wide fingertips sink into your cushioned fat and the softness of your stretch marks. It stung, the water, like having his presence near it set it off, simmering around his body, trying to kiss anything of him that it could. The water was pretty pink for a few moments, your body releasing the hold it had on your dried blood and the dirt accompanying it. His hands were occupied by the washcloth he was softly rubbing against your body. Then it was dark, and whenever you looked down it was harder and harder to see the end of his legs, stretching out before and underneath you, holding your body (against his) up. “Fuck me.” It was he who had released that sound.

“Good, been staring out tha’ window for far too long,” he said. “You can look at something prettier now. Close your eyes, bunny.”

You did what Joel wanted of you, and quickly you fell into the heavy light buzzing right outside of yourself like your aura was bouncing off of the smoldering color... like a blanket, maybe. One of blurred confessions and soft, radiating heat. Your arms are heavier but in a slow melting comfort, and it feels like butterflies right above your hip bones crawling right towards your cunt in a low pulse. As if the energy moved and hovered itself into your underwear and is prodding its fingertips into your soaking center, touching every bit of swollen flesh as his fingers disappear into you. But he’s sitting still, you think. He is everywhere but inside of you.

Your memories lilt against your skull, retracting from any indication of themselves. Much of who you were is gone, left in dark patches of shadow and musk. Outlines of a monster (human) ((him)) setting his jaw on your shoulder from behind, willing the air to kiss that spot right under your ear. Your own blood, his sweat. The undulating sway of his plush lips and impending jaw from below. You’d only seen him this way, from below. Like he was something holy, forever above you and rarely looking down. You reach up and feel his face, running the sensitive skin of your fingertips against his stubbly chin and neck. 

-

Most of your time was spent contently sitting in your (Joel’s) favorite chair, the one you hadn't really left or released yourself from, just assuming that it had now formed to your body. Maybe you had melted into the dirty crevices, instead. You wanted nothing more than to sink into it and become a part of the worn and well-loved fabric. No one expected anything of this chair. For it to simply exist confirms its usefulness.

A week or so ago, you had been dying, pooling blood turned your skin terian-like, how the tips of your fingers used to turn in the now-cold bath. He was right– it had been years. This death doesn't feel much different. Just slower. You had been doing better before Tommy left to check the perimeters and outward land of Jackson. They didn’t know that no one would be following you. Or looking for you… needing you. Praying for you.

Joel thinks a lot about the comfort-glaze of your eyes whenever you saw Tommy that day like you’d been happy that he was there to see you off, hold your hand as you looked into the sky and deflate into the ground. He thinks about how you’d probably rather have him here, now.

Maybe that’s what you write in your notebook, still sitting in the chair, but this time with your face turned towards your lap, completely lost under the lamp every night around 10:37.

Maybe that's what is feeding into his mood.

You would have already been in that bath if Tommy were to ask you, rather than Joel. He thinks about how Tommy’s eyes lit up when he first looked into yours, hazel. Gaze flashing as if in recognition of an importance. Joel could see a hint of the brother he once knew, before his world ended. Before all of your worlds ended. He knew in that moment that something shifted for the both of you, but for Joel, it felt like drowning.

He looked at you and he saw the torn, soft skin of a small animal. He didn’t know that the damage was on the inside. 

Joel resented the way he was drawn to you, it made him viscerally angry at himself. He was angry at how calling you baby had been so easy, the way he felt his cock thicken at the sound of your grunt in agreement. Or the smell of you, even though you hadn’t bathed in god knows how fucking long. He pretended it was the drugs, but it wasn’t. These were his secrets and the web was already intertwining with itself. He almost feels like if he were to tug on it now, even more shit would fall out, come unstuck and drag him into the ground to a place where he’s surprised he isn't lying already. 

How can you hide such a carnal want? He’s unfamiliar with the feeling. Uncomfortable with it. 

What would they say? Would Tess say? “One more pussy for you to fuck, Joel? This time it's new and fresh, betcha could teach her a thing or two, huh?” Tess had always been the jealous type, Joel clocked it the first week they met. She hid it well, but you can’t hide from someone who recognizes something in you, because they recognize it in themselves, too. Joel and Tess, Tess and Joel. The town knew there was something happening between the two of them, but no one said anything. They knew Joel was her loyal guard dog.  They knew not to disturb Mr. Miller's peace. He was a kind enough man, besides that.

He was hoping for anything other than to hear the question, "You think you can save this one, too?" He knew that he couldn't. He couldn't promise your safety. However, he could sense that you were in need of it. Perhaps not obviously at first glance; you appeared tough on the surface, but there was something in your eyes that begged him, “Release me. Let me rest.” Something calling his name. He was hearing it now, in the cadence of your voice, whispering around his head as he stopped himself from touching you. 

He knew that they, you, would get him in trouble if he didn’t stop it and try to pawn it off to someone else before it (his desire) got too bad. “Hey, look, she’s with him, not me. Now let me sit and stutter into the darkness while you take the only thing that has made you feel an inch of something in the past month.”

They would chain him up if he ever admitted the level of his desires. Embarrassed at the way he was already entirely attached to you. Something about, “I almost killed you, but let me be the savior. Love me enough to let me swallow you whole,” probably wouldn’t sit too well. 

“Joel?” you questioned, slow and small. 

His skin rises instantly, stunned by your sound and the touch of your body. “What did you–?” he softly shhh’s you because suddenly, the way your body hums into his when you speak is too much. Your hand continues to fall slowly against the thicker hair near his jaw, ghosting over unsaid words and lips. His breathing was becoming too heavy for someone who was just there to be a savior. 

“Gettin’ clean feels good,” his heavy thumbs pinching deeper into skin, voice far away and muffled under yearning, drowning, “don’t it, pretty?” 

You let your arms hit the water, too tired and blissed out to hold them up longer. He chuckled and it rang through every inch of your nude being. The water splashed, and the roundness of Joel’s lower belly retracted quickly from your back, startled by the closeness of your body. You hadn’t felt it before, his whole self pressed firmly against you. The thickness of it. Your thighs oozed over his lap, completely covering him. Your feet ended at almost his mid-leg. He stretched further out in the bath ahead of you. 

Joel didn’t need a verbal response from you. Knew you couldn’t give him one anyway. He knew that he should, that’s the right way to go about this. But he had just carried you over his lap for a week, bleeding out on him, screaming. He would help you relieve yourself, too, when needed. Couldn’t pee by yourself the first couple of days. Didn’t bother him much, not after what he’d seen. He’s had much worse cross his hands. He knew the whole ride back that if you were conscious enough to know that you were still alive, you’d be embarrassed to hell that he would help you off the horse, pull your pants down, and hold you. He couldn’t understand why that had shuffled something inside of him. The point is, he’s seen it all anyway. All of you, physically at least. Now he was simply just helping you out some more. Until you could tell him to stop. It's the least he could do if he really did shoot her.

He watched as they pulled the bullet out of your side, Tommy pale-faced in the corner, shrinking. 

Joel knew you were out from the pain meds they had stuck into your veins, but that wasn’t a good enough promise that you would sit still through it, that it would be painless. 

When you hold more weight, you need a little more. 

He slipped you a little something extra before all the men got there that night to see and help. Your body was lying on his kitchen table, sweating and tired, dying. But you– you were asleep with a soft smile on your lips. He held you still, just just in case, hands pushed down into your cushioned stomach. The other was around your wrists, positioned just above your head so that the ‘doctors’ had room to move freely around your side. It was hard not to stare at a body that looked well-fed and healthy, in a world like this. Your breasts were moving softly with every movement of your body from other hands. Your hair under your arms was dark and visible in the way he was holding your hands above your head.

No one dared speak upon your body with Joel around, especially since he was the one that dragged you in here, meaning you were his property, Miller property, now. 

-

TOMMY looked away upon entering, watching Joel retreat from where he was whispering into your ear. He could hear the bass of his brother's voice, slowly echoing in the hallway. He would pretend, for the sake of his sanity, that he didn’t know exactly what was happening before witnessing it. Especially after Joel had mentioned a couple of times that you seemed closer to his age, meaning keep an eye on this one, brother. “She’d probably like ya more anyway, younger n’ more capable. Bigger name in Jackson, too.” This coming from the mouth of a man who even went as far as to say, “Coulda’ made a good wife,” three hours after shooting her.

People all deal with things differently, he guesses.

It wouldn’t be the first time that he secretly craved something that his big brother was dangling in front of him, knowing that somehow he had the advantage. But then Tommy felt guilty thinking that way. Joel had been through so much and lost too many people for Tommy to get in the way of whatever look took over your body as you sat against his chest, halfway immersed in water and looking up into Joel’s face. You looked more peaceful now than you have at any moment since stepping into this house.

“Come and try to get her, Tommy.” 

But of course, he won’t show that he yearns for you, too. It feels wrong. That Joel was the one to kill you but you were staying with him; that he was your primary safekeeper and healer. You were sitting on his lap, nipples hard and body at attention, peacefully asleep with your cheek pushed up against the hair on Joel's chest, resting in the arms of the man who nearly succeeded at killing you. 

If he were to say anything else, it would be, “I know you fucking drugged her, Joel. N’ you didn’t even give her a choice.” But he didn’t want to wake a sleeping bear, not right now. Not when you looked so peaceful and pain-free for the first time since they grabbed the world from underneath your feet. Not when the very thing Tommy could not stop thinking about was lying on the bear’s chest. 

-

YOU can feel yourself between your legs. It’s the kind of absentee pulse that you almost want to stop, but it feels too good. Light fingertips brushing the hair on the back of your neck. Like that of knowing a lightning storm is crawling its way across the night sky. Or hearing the neighbor roll their trash can down their road, unable to tell if it’s thunder or an earthquake in its deep humming, only to be relieved that it is in fact another human existing in close proximity to you. Although not something that you remember too well now, just the feeling. It’s surprising and suspenseful at the same moment. It’s love and then what comes after. 

There’s always an after. 

Then you feel the drip running from right inside of you into the hot water, against the fluttering of your thickening lips. 

Please. Kiss me here. Hard, hurtful, and sinful. Strip me to my bones and then use them as your toys. Then tell me I’m a good girl and run your hands through my hair. Tell me I fought good and hard and then let me lie here for a while. 

Chanting like a prayer. 

You remember the smell of his lap, much different than the smell of his neck, but still devastatingly carnal. You cradled into the warmth of his neck; in the burn of his embrace and you sat there, teetering between consciousness and the bliss of finally being held. You had always been afraid that you would leave the world and not even be able to wrap your own arms around you. But someone was holding you before the ground will be—  forever. This didn’t feel like dying through. 

This felt like something else. Similar, but different. 

You sat on top of Joel’s lap in the bath for at least an hour, resting your head on his shoulder, turning and resting it against his chest, too. They both washed you, silently eating you up. Tommy stood outside of the bath, combing your hair after Joel ran his gruff hands through it, pawing at your scalp and rubbing the dirt (hurt) from your scalp. No one talked, everyone inside their own thoughts.

Joel was stuck thinking about the small bags of things you had lost grasp on whenever you fell (were shot). It looked like time-worn items that meant something, from before the world was this way. One is an old driver's license- your smile, happy, content, young. Your name, now repeating in Joel’s head over and over, and over and over, coating every inch of him. He still hadn’t heard it come from your lips. 

9 years ago, this all started. You, now in your mid-20s. How long had you been all alone? No one had come running to your corpse. 

They had come to the conclusion that you were doing well on your own. You weren’t skin and bones like most of them who are lucky enough to survive and find their way to Jackson. You were thick, and heavy in the most beautiful way. Heavy meant healthy, able to hunt, and useful. It meant maybe being able to carry children. It meant handfuls of skin and whispered praises. It meant more to wash, to take in, and try not to touch. It was too much for both of them. The only difference is that Joel knew he was a weak man. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if he kept feeling this way. 

After they removed you from Joel’s lap, they towel dried you and you slowly became more aware of how different four large hands felt grasping at your body, taking care of you. Helping you.

An hour or so had passed and Tommy was lying in bed next to you, reading something. Joel turned the corner and leaned up against the doorframe. 

“Tommy.” There was tar in his throat, dripping down the back of his tongue and settling in his chest. He was a million pounds and his legs could no longer bear the weight of her. Of you. Of his guilt for slipping your drugs and undressing you in his bathroom. 

He looked into you, bounced off the sides of your mind, and then straight into the bed you were lying upon, sleeping so peacefully next to his brother. Tommy sees the pain in Joel's eyes, hung lower in embarrassment. 

He did this to you. He took the life of someone who had the rest of this fucked up world ahead of her. And it was a slow and painful death, too. You were someone’s daughter. It’s fucked up how the world works like that, huh? It wasn’t enough losing his own daughter- he had to kill someone else too. Does your dad, husband, or mother, feel you slipping from the world? Do they hear hushed whispers in the night of your name leaving something tongue? 

Joel stopped believing in God a long time ago. He was slipping from his grip, facing the fall, and Sarah’s last moments solidified his feet on the ground. Almost under. Still surprised it’s not under. 

“I’ll take her, Joel. In the mornin we’ll pack up some things and go back to my house.” He said softly, nodding and looking down at the ground in an unspoken, “I know.” 

It's Tommy who steps forward, taking charge and offering to care for you. He can sense his brother’s connection to you, why he wants to save you so badly. So much so that he can’t. He doesn’t trust himself for what will happen if someone else dies under his watch, because of him. Someone innocent. “I know she’s sleepin’ but can we have a moment?” Joel asks. 

Tommy doesn’t question him, he marks his page, sets down his book, and carries his body from the bed to the hallway. Joel waited a moment and assured me that you were tucked in well, warm from the bath. He sighed, one of pain. 

“I’m so sorry,” his voice was stern in the way that held back his tears. “You have to believe me,” he whispered your name, the first time it left his tongue and he wanted to say it over and over again. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have done that to you without askin’.” He caressed your face, watching as your body reacted to his touch, stirring, before the bed creaked with the weight of his body leaving, and then he was gone. You had heard everything, felt him leaving. The room felt entirely too empty.

The Devil was begging you to forgive him, and you wanted to. You wanted to bring your palms together and whisper his name through the cracks, hoping he would hear your silent prayer. “Let me stay here, with you.” 

Tommy entered the room again and sank under the covers. He moved his body closer to you and you decided to bask in it, instead.

-

You wake up, unclear but clean. You don’t remember last night in great detail, or at least a few hours of it, at all. He slept peacefully despite the world’s end, cocooned in a haven his mind crafted. Your mind was far less forgiving— or maybe you still hadn’t learned how to ‘deal with it’. You always felt like everyone dealt with It better. The room lay shrouded in darkness, your thoughts raging, Joel’s words echoed in your mind, etching against the soft inside of your head, deeper with each repetition. His guilty confession and desperate plea for forgiveness replayed. But forgiveness was no longer something you believed in. The world had ended, shattered, and reassembled without remorse. You are sober now. You fall back asleep. 

Your eyes opened again to Tommy caving the bed closer to him, moving your body closer, too. You closed your eyes quickly, away from him, and pretended you hadn’t been awake and listening to the lull of his deep breathing, trying to gain your standing. You felt comforted, waking up next to his freckled shoulders. The hazy light of morning was trailing in from the window and laying out on the carpet, stretching itself in the morning confusion.

There was one thing you were absolutely-fucking-sure about, and it was that Joel Miller had drugged you, and it had secretly awakened something unknown inside of you. It tickled, but it was shoving its way up your stomach and relentless, neverending in its pursuit of something. 

Tommy Miller had saved you. At least he had put you to bed, it seems. And with him, too, rather than the one who seems to be dissolving into his own. Your hair was wet and you smelled like Joel, but you were shrouded in Tommy’s clothes. Slightly more fitting, and better kept together. 

You’d never slept in a bed with a man before. And then all of sudden there were two, interchangeably. Brothers. One that smiled above your eyes and one below. Ones that rocked the bed differently each time their body swam through the damp covers. 

You’d never taken a bath with a man either. Never had anyone's brother ever pulled your sinking body out of bathwater. You remember the inward push of the water and the hands that followed, reaching through it, pushing you forward to Tommy. 

There’s a quick assessment you’ve always done, automatically but unintentionally, “Would this one stop if I asked him to?” Most are ‘no’s. Tommy was a yes in your mind. He would put away his soft, white wings and free you from his divinity if you were to ask.  

~

He was sipping his coffee, dressed in his usual, alone at the table. He had opened the blinds he made sure three times he shut last night. The smoke billowed from the base of the cup into his face and hair, mixing with the silver tuffs. They shone against the darkness at the nape of his neck and the bottom of his chin from the emitting light. 

He looked calm sitting there, as content as a devil could. He felt you before you had even turned the corner upstairs, but he didn’t say anything. He never really did. 

That being said, you can't remember much of anything besides wondering if it was indeed your body that rustled the ground that day. It was, and then you felt a man. A few days could have been weeks, and suddenly you were sitting in a town. A word that didn’t mean too much for a long time, but it did again; sitting at the breakfast table of a man, undulating under his gaze and between the blank spaces of your memory. 

An animal caged inside itself looks for relief in any way it can. Even if the relief is a different kind of pain masked as want. It meant throwing away your expectations and doing what it took to survive. 

You intended on speaking first. Rather, you reached the bottom of the stairs and tucked Tommy’s red flannel across your sparsely clothed body, and suddenly heard, “Shouldn’t be half-naked when Ellie’s here. She’s a kid.”

He didn’t even take the time to move his attention away from his coffee cup. That would be too much effort given to you. You ignored him, wanting to scream, “Was she here last night when you played with me like I was your little fucking doll?” You didn’t give him what he wanted, but still hoping he would give you what you did. 

You had watched the back of your eyelids dance with the small red and green dots for two more hours before getting up, willing remembrance. And oh, did it come.

“Got any more of those?”

“Of what?” He spat, eyebrows lowering in pretend interest in his hot coffee again… into his fuming lap. He knew exactly what the fuck you were talking about. How dare he take advantage of you and then throw it to the side like nothing happened. He was embarrassed. Embarrassed that he got high and took you with him. 

“This is feeling’ a lot different than last night. Those little round things that kept me pliant an’ dead enough for you to press yourself into my naked body? – Joel, do you think I’m not payin’ any fuckin’ attention? The second I tasted the salt on your fingertips, I knew it was you shovin’ pills down my throat. I knew it. And the way you were talking to me, calling me babygirl and sweetheart? Then I didn’t know anything, for a while. Not really. But Tommy,” you were raising your voice now, “Tommy was there too, then I woke up in his bed with his clothes on instead of yours— just tell me what the fuck happened Joel!”  

“Lower your voice, right now.” He was pointing at you, and his body moved closer to yours. “You… you wanted it Bunny,” He growled, “You practically drooled across my palm.” He sighed, gathered the lies from his web, and prepared them. He had already prepared his own cocoon, years ago.

He hadn't been the only one whose high wore off far too early in the night. 

“You didn’t say you didn’t want ‘em and—“ 

Then you spoke above the sentence he was starting to dig deeper into the ground, to his surprise, in a softer tone. One that had a hint of sweetness to it, of want. 

“Sweethear–”

“Do it again. Felt good.”

You liked it. Wasn’t the only thing he wanted to shove down your throat, either. No, no, no. Shaking the thought from his head. 

He removed his eyes from the creases in the wood floor and sewed them into your gaze instead, eyebrows cresting. He wanted to make sure he heard you right. He wanted to hear you repeat it.

“Say that again?”

“Said feels good when you touch me like that. When I’m melting into your flesh and sinking down your bones. That’s what the water felt like. First, it felt like fire, perfect for a Devil, and then it felt like a calm warmth. Then your hands were touchin’ me and, no one has ever touched–

a pause, “like—“

“No one has ever touched you, bunny?”

“No, Joel. And I hate you so much for making me feel this way. For showing me something I can’t continue to have because it’s wrong and, for being so sweet to me and then eating me up like I'm a burden because you couldn't just fucking kill me when you had the chance... and…I can barely even fucking walk. I am in so much pain but you took it away for a while last night. You took everything bad away. Why didn’t you just ask?”

“Hate me, huh? Thas’a strong word for someone who is depending on me, wanting more.” Good. This is how it needed to be. He needed to take care of Ellie, himself now. He promised her that he would.

“Depending on you? Sorry, I forgot we hadn’t got to that part of the conversation yet, past the one where you drugged me. You dropped me into your brother's arms as of last night, didn’t you? I remember it, you musta popped one too many, huh?”

Your attitude and his lack of sleep were making it easier to will the words off the end of his tongue. 

“He seemed better suited for someone…” he looked you up and down, “like yourself.” 

You didn’t have anything to say to that, and he was immediately sorry after speaking about it. 

“For being such a big bad man in this town, you don’t have your fucking shit together,” returning the look he gave you, “do you?”

You were out of breath, releasing too much of yourself into his anger, knees weak and side-splitting in pain. You weren’t going to tell him that you were awake when he begged for your forgiveness. That you heard every word he whispered and repeated it back to yourself as if it was a passage pulled right from the pen-marked Bible your dad used to shove into your hands nightly. 

He thought you had been listening to everyone talking, in the mess hall and whatever drama Ellie had brought home. Maybe even Tommy had told you about the real Joel. The real Joel will tear you apart. 

You sat down on the sunken chestnut couch and the pillows lifted more of his smell into your space, settling and trying to get comfortable. You both remained silent, stung. It made you even more mad that he had the ability to stick straight into your anger like that. So you wished for a way to really hurt him like you were some kind of child.

You weren’t done yet. You were angry. So fucking angry at everything you have endured. And he was standing there, pity and disgust in his eyes–but he was looking, seeing… listening. 

“Tess.” Her name stung like the sound it ended with, for a reason you didn’t know, but inherently felt after last night. The hurt that flashed into his dark pupils spread through the tightness in his jaw.

“Don’t you fuckin-”

“Oh. Shut. Up. Joel. Heard ‘er talking to Tommy last night. Came knocking on the door around 1:30 am, asking for you. Tommy went to your room and you weren’t in there. Went back downstairs and said he couldn't find you, seen you only a couple of hours ago. She was throwing her hands against the door like it was hers to tear down. Guess she didn’t know I wasn’t with you,” you took a deep breath, trying to relieve the pain so you could continue, “Have you seen him? N’ that girl? Tommy, she's a fucking kid. Ain't right for him.” You mimicked her concern. You knew immediately who she was asking for. “Maybe I should go ask Tess if she would give me a few, she seems like she’d like to know what’s going on.” 

His jaw was flexing, his eyes burrowing into you, biting the inside of his lip. You continued, 

“Feels’good being numb for a’while. I’m always fanning off another fire but it always finds the loose thread and kisses it ablaze anyway. This feels like sinking... like I don’t have to fight anymore.”

His deep breath stifled the fire on his chest.

“Know it’s good,” his tone falling deep, low, and warning, “But you don’t need anymore.”

“Don’t I? You were the one who fucking shot me. The least you could do is slip me some pills. I’m in pain, Joel. I’m hurting.” He knew that you weren’t just talking about the wound in your side, that he put it there with his own split metal. He wanted to take that hurt away, get you curled up tight against him and high, painless, protected yet free– from a world you were too young to be living in alone. But how could he protect you from even himself?

He didn't even save her. Nothing has changed now besides the fact he finds it harder and harder to get out of bed every day. That he’s running low on whiskey and that's what keeps the bear inside. The pills keep it sedated. How could he admit that he was not fit to be your protector, and the only other person in town who it could be, was Tommy?

That's why today was the last day you'd be slamming down his stairs. Your footsteps were a reminder that the hurt animal had made its way into his house. A reminder that he was the one who hurt it.“‘M not given’ you anymore. So don’t open your mouth about it again. Got it?"

As always, please let me know if I missed any warnings / want me to add you to the taglist: @worhols @sarap-77 @mishasminion360 @justagalwhowrites @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @romanarose @milla-frenchy @bandluvr97 @alwaysdjarin @hellfyreroz @northernbluess-blog @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pr0ximamidnight @morgaussy @n7cje @theywhowriteandknowthings @gracie7209 @pedritoferg @twirl731 @k-ra @gintheginger @obscurexsorrows @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @ours-is-a-strange-fate @rayslittlekitten @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrotonin @bluetattoos @sscorpiiio @joeldjarin @faggotinie @justlulu

#READ THE WARNINGS #DUBCON #TW #drug use #tw drugging #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel x tommy x you #smut #the devil and his brother #tdahb #dark!joel miller #pervy!joel miller #perv!joel #carnal #fic recs #a03 #pedro pascal x you #pedro x you #ellie williams #joel x tess #plus size #pedro pascal x plus size #Joel x plus size

[fieldofdaisiies]

Maybe could you do one where azriel gets really mad at you and feels really bad afterwards and you're being stubborn??? Thank you for all the amazing work that you do :)

oh thank you, you are so very welcome, here you go!! Hope you like it :)

Azriel x Reader | Distrust

type: angst  warnings: none word count: 907

*all rights reserved*

You were so very angry. Once again jealousy had gotten the best out of Azriel. He once again had misinterpreted a situation, had accused you of cheating or drooling after Balthazar when the Illyrian male had just wanted to help you with dagger handling. Azriel had nearly thrown hands—you had been the one to stop him before winnowing away thoroughly annoyed and disappointed in your mate. But you had not left before telling him those very heart-shattering words.

“Hell, I really can't do this anymore.”

Why could he not simply trust you? It was not that you had been mates for years…

After leaving Azriel and the others you had taken a bath, trying to sooth your body and clear your mind. You loved Azriel more than anything but you also knew you could not continue a relationship with him when he always acted like that.

His bitterness reached you through the bond and you knew that he had not immediately followed you as he had realised that he had messed up greatly and that you needed time. 

And you also needed to make a decision—staying with him or leaving him for good. It would rip your heart apart but his constant jealousy and territoriality was not cute or hot anymore it became simply annoying. 

You hated that he just could not trust you fully—the fundament of a relationship was trust after all. 

You somehow hoped he would not come to your shared place the whole night—hoped he would give you time to overthink everything, to get your head clear. 

Well, your wishes weren’t fulfilled. 

"What?" you snapped, lower lip quavering, you head buried in the pillow and the blanked pulled up to your chin. The door fell shut after your mate had entered. Shadows skittered towards you, climbing up your body and smoothing over your cheeks. 

"Don’t be grumpy now, please."

You pushed the thick wool blanket of your body and got up from the bed. With quick steps you made your way over to Azriel—your mate. The audacity. 

"You really think that I am grumpy, Azriel?" you questioned, your voice increasing in volume. 

"I am fucking disappointed and sad. Sad that you think I would do something like that. Disappointed that you don’t trust me. We have been mates for four years now—"

Your voice broke, throat burning and tears starting to fill your eyes. It hurt so much—yes, he was territorial, but you never gave him any reason to distrust you. You had only been faithful and honest to him, still he always found some way to question your loyalty.

"Y/N," Azriel whispered, pleading lacing his voice when he reached his hands forward to grab yours. You quickly pulled yours back and crossed your arms.

"Nothing, Y/N. We have this stupid conversation nearly every week now. It is getting tedious."

"Y/N, please. You know how I am. I am—"

"Yes, I know how you are. But you also know me. Better than anyone else. And you know you can trust me. I have never given you any reason to distrust me."

Azriel lowered his gaze to the ground, jaw clenched. "I know."

"Apperently you do not. Otherwise you would not freak out like that everytime a male just gets close."

"Balthazar di—"

You threw your hands up in dispair. "Azriel! He helped me hold my dagger, that was it. Gods, what is up with you?"

Groaning, you moved back to your bed and let yourself fall onto it, covering your face with your hands. You only removed them when you heard the rustling of wings and the light cracking of bones. Azriel knelt in front of you and the bed, hands on your knees.

His bitterness and pain reached you through the bond and you sat up, moving your hands over his. "Azriel, why can you not trust me?"

"I am just so afraid of losing you…I don’t even know myself. I know you would never be betray me, I trust you, but I don’t trust the males."

"You can trust Balthazar. And apart from that he knows I am mate."

Azriel swallowed thickly and shook his head. "When I wanted Elain I did not care about her mate one single bit."

Now your throat worked on a swallow, something bitter and very much like jealousy rising inside of you. 

You squeezed his hands. "Right. But you know I would not leave you for anything. Nothing in this whole entire world could take me from you." Taking his hands into yours, bringing them to your mouth and kissing his knuckles.

"You are my mate, my home, my world. The only person I will love until the end of the world and until the end of our immortal world.”

Azriel exhaled loudly when he tipped his head back to meet your gaze. “I am sorry. I trust you. I am sorry for behaving like this.” You dipped your chin, removing one hand out of his hold to brush it over his head. Then you leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“Forgiven. But this was the very last time. I can’t do this another time. It breaks my heart when you make me feel like I am disloyal or unfaithful.” Azriel closed his eyes for a long moment and inhaled. He kissed your palm and nodded. “I will never happen again. I promise you that.”

tags: @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbitxh (sorry I forgot to add you to the list)

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar #acosf

[ladymarycrawley]

Baby please come home - John Stones

Request: can I pls request a John Stones fic where your family have moved abroad and you’re going to see them for Christmas but John can’t come so you’re quite sad you’re missing your first Christmas with him but what you don’t know is he’s surprising you when you land and you have the most amazing Christmas with him and your family?

Warning: sweet, sweet John (sth like one of those Xmas rom coms)

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover @stonesyy​ @johnstonesfc

Christmas is such a special time, not just for the magical atmosphere given by all the lights, the shopping to get some good presents and all of that but also because it usually is the time you get to spend with all your loved ones.

Among all those loved ones you would've like to spend the so called most wonderful time of the year there was also another person that, during this last year, became pretty important to you, that one was John. That would have been your first Christmas together and, Needless to say, you were really looking forward to it: getting him the perfect presents, even that being rather hard as he already had everything he could ask for since he had enough money for all of that, picturing him interacting with your family and all of them getting along, him complimenting your mum for the delicious food she cooked…the only thing that could spoil that perfect scenario was him missing all of that. And that was exactly the turn things took: when everything was set for him to come and spend his first Christmas holidays with your family, he came and said that he couldn’t do it anymore due to an intensive training schedule his manager decided to submit the squad to as a “punishment” for their latest losses.

When your boyfriend told you that news you were hoping you didn’t have to listen to, your heart broke into a million pieces and you were sure he could have heard it from the outside too.

"But you promised you would've come"

"I know but it's work and it doesn't depend on me"

You got so angry the night he called all your plans off you were this close to a fight but instead you just kept it all inside and let him cuddle you all night, trying not to let him see the hot tears that were staining your face.

The next day he woke up before you to go training as you had to finish preparing your suitcase ready to take the flight home in a few hours. That morning he tried to make it up to you by whisepring sweet nothings into your ear as he would place lingering kisses against your cheek and by leaving your breakfast ready (including the last chocolate muffin you would usually argue for) with a note saying he was really sorry abd that he loved you so much. As much as you would've liked to play the part of the strong girl that doesn't need these useless things, that sweet gesture caused you to smile from ear to ear, taking your phone in your hand to write him a thank you text, adding you loved him more than ever.

As soon as you arrived at your parents' you facetimed John to let him know you were home safe, as he kept sending you texts asking you how were you doing.

"Yes, I'm entering my bedroom in this very moment" You sighed, leaving your suitcase at the side of the bed and abandoning yourself on what was would have been your bed for those upcoming days.

"Good, how was the trip?" He asked as he was lounging on his bed, with his arm propped on the bed holding his head. The weary smile curving his lips mase your heart flutter, you would have loved to kiss his tiredness away and cuddle next to him.

"Okay, it's so damn freezing outside I just wanted to get home and drink this hot cocoa my mum just made for me"

You were literally gladly to have that steaming mug in your hands and a soft and warm bed to realx on, you were feeling like a child and that made John's smile grow even wider.

"You look like a happy baby"

"I am indeed!" You two shared a little laugh before asking him how was training.

"I'm kinda tired you know, with the cold and everything it's getting kinda hard"

He let out a loud yawn, rubbing his hand over his worn out features. He looked like a baby too in that moment, needing all the cuddles in the world.

"I miss you" You whined, pouting and wrapping your blanket tighter around you.

"You look so snuggly with that blanket on" John smiled softly at your face reflected on the phone screen.

He missed so much seeing you wandering through the house wearing that pile thing around your shoulder as if it was a cape. 

"We could have been here together, snuggling under this soft and warm blanket but you preferred staying there, in cold and rainy Manchester"

"You know I would've loved that but Pep decided is a good time for us to work on some tactics"

"Pep, it's Christmas for Christ's sake, go eat some sweets and let these poor men go!" You rolled your eyes, sighing in distress "I should've been your manager"

Your exasperated reaction made him chuckle out loud.

"Yeah, we would've had so much fun…especially me" He wiggled his eyebrows in a flirty way.

"Nope, you wouldn't have gotten anything" You playfully snapped back, him being the one to pout this time.

"I miss you too" He confessed, wanting nothing but to run his long fingers over your face and kiss you.

You looked at each other in silence for a couple of minutes, just getting lost in each other's eyes.

"Mum was really looking forward to meet you"

"Me too, I'm so sorry to be missing all of that"

"And now I'm about to face a long family dinner without you"

"Hey, I already said I'm sorry, don't make me feel guiltier"

"I love making you suffer from time to time" You said, sticking your tongue between your teeth.

He chuckled before waving you goodbye and sending a kiss your way, not after hearing you say how much you loved him.

-

"Someone rang the door!"

"I'm coming!" You shouted in answer to your mum.

That morning you were adjusting the Christmas tree your mum lef you to do as someone rang the door.

As you opened the door and you realised who was the one person standing at your parents' entrance, you gasped and let the glass bauble you were holding to put on the tree fall to the ground, breaking it into a million pieces. 

"JOHN??"

"Happy Christmas baby" You jumped in his arms, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala.

He giggled, his lips pressed against your head.

"What the hell are you doing here??" 

"Well, if you don't want me anymore I'm going back to Manchester"

"Don't you dare!" You both laughed as you cupped his face to give him a long, needed kiss on the lips. The contrast between your warm lips against his colder ones made you shiver while he let out a pleased moan, enjoying the warmth you were radiating as he spent the last hours out in the cold.

"Oh he made it in the end!" Your mum exclaimed seeing you in tears in John's arms.

"What does it mean?? You knew it?? For all this time!" You gasped pointing a finger against your mum, guessing she knew everything from the start and probably talked to John to arrange the surprise. But how was it possible? They didn't know each other personally.

"Well, I unlocked your phone and searched for her number telling her about the surprise I had in mind" The City player explained you, as you couldn't quite believe what was happening right in front of your eyes.

"You two…you have been playing with my feelings all this time...that's not fair"

"But we succeeded in surprising you so we won" He smirked, kissing your forehead. 

Everything you had in mind finally happened: he met your parents, your sister and had dinner with you all, including him appreciating your mum's cooking skills.

“So this is our room?” John asked wiggling his eyebrows mischievously as you showed him upstairs.

“No, it’s mine. Yours is just here on the right”

“Oh come on, I don’t wanna sleep all alone in a new house” He whined hugging you and hiding his face in your neck “I’m scared”

His stubble tickled the highly sensitive skin of your neck, making you giggle and squirm in his arms.

“John, we can’t do anything as far as my family is here”

“I don’t wanna do anything! I just wanna sleep. What do you have in mind, you cheeky girl?” He smiled mischievously.

“The same thing you have in mind, you naughty boy” You pinched his cheek before kissing him softly.

“The heating doesn’t work properly though...I’m so cold”

“John stop it” You couldn’t stop giggling as you tried to push him out of your bedroom. You would have really liked to sleep next to him but you didn't want your family to make some comments or anything about your private business.

"You can't leave me out in the cold!"

"I'm not! You have a hot bed waiting for you"

The day after, when you were strolling hand in hand with him through some Christmas markets, you realised how lucky you got: with him by your side you were feeling as if you had just won the lottery. That thought made you squeeze his hand firmer, drawing his attention. 

"What?"

You gazed up at him: his curls perfectly styled, his slender body wrapped in that black wool coat you insisted for him to buy instead of those puffers he would use at City, his cheeks slightly pink due to the cold weather, making his cerulean eyes stand out.

"Nothing, I just love you so much"

John smiled back at you, meeting your smaller figure standing on your tiptoes ready to kiss him.

"Even after having played that prank on you?"

"Even more"

"You said that! Don't complain then"

You playfully hit him on his toned arm.

"It doesn't mean go on, play pranks on me whenever you want to!" You warned him jokingly.

John trapped you in his arms, engulfing you in his embrace which felt so perfect.

"I really am the perfect girlfriend, you know?"

"Pff, don't flatter yourself, I am the perfect boyfriend"

"This coat your perfect girlfriend made you buy is what makes you the perfect boyfriend, nothing else"

"Oh so you're with me just for the looks? I'll remember that"

He pinched your hips from underneath your coat, making you squirm. The cold air and the never stopping smile making your cheeks hurt but you couldn’t care less.

"I have another thing or two that could make me an even better boyfriend…" John smirked teasingly, muttering that kinky words in your ear, adding some red to your already tinted face. He took your hand in his to start walking together again. That was really the most wonderful time of the year.

#john stones #john stones x reader #john stones x y/n #john stones x you #john stones fluff #john stones imagines #john stones fics #john stones fanfictions #christmas fiction #john stones xmas #mcfc #manchester city #manchester city imagines #manchester city fics #premier league #premier league imagines #premier league fics #england nt #england nt imagines #england nt fics #football imagines #football fics #football writing

[clarepreed]

Scorched

Story Summary and Content - 5,716 words. Will discovers Melanie has succumbed to heat stroke on her run. Hyperthermia, seizure, cardiac arrest. On-site resuscitation, Stryker LUCAS 3 device, ambiguous ending.

--

Will

“Are you sure?” he murmured, speaking close to her ear. Strands of her corn silk hair stirred with his breath. “The guys will be absolutely fine if you play disc golf with us. And maybe you shouldn’t get too hot. We started a lot later than we meant to.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. One more time to try to get to know them before I give up.” Melanie made a face, her freckled nose crinkling. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I don’t blame you,” Will said. For some reason, his friends Avery and Meegan didn’t seem to get along with his fiancée. Granted, he thought most of it was Meegan, with Avery not speaking up out of a misguided sense of loyalty.

We’re all too old to behave like that, he thought, angry and frustrated that he couldn’t fix the situation.

He didn’t understand how they couldn’t like Melanie. He was biased, of course, but she was wonderful. One of the kindest people he knew. That understandable statement about “giving up” was one of the strongest things she’d ever said against someone.

Will leaned in to give her a hug. Her skin was already damp and warm, her cheeks flushed. Petite and on beta blockers for migraines, the heat often got to her before he even noticed the temperature was unpleasant. “Drink plenty of water, find some shade, and I hope you have fun. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Love you,” she said, stretching up to kiss him.

Melanie 

She was lost.

After almost ninety minutes of thinly veiled disdain from Meegan and silent discomfort from Avery, Melanie really had given up.

She’d run out of water forty-five minutes prior and was obviously not close enough to the other women to ask for some of theirs. Nauseated and headachy, she didn’t think she could stand the two of them another minute.

“I’m going to head back to the parking lot,” she’d told them, leaning down to rub her cramping calf muscle. “I don’t feel very good.”

Avery stirred at that, asking: “Are you okay? You look like you’re getting a sunburn.”

Before Melanie could answer, Meegan made an annoyed sound and tossed her hair. “Let her go if she wants to go, Avery! Jesus!”

Melanie looked at Avery. “The two of you will be okay?”

“Obviously!” Meegan barked, making Avery blink at her rude tone.

Melanie shrugged, sighed, and left, fighting back self-pitying tears as she ran down the trail. Running was difficult and painful with leg and side cramps, but she knew she’d need to get back and drink some water before that would get any better.

At some point, however, she’d taken a wrong turn, or multiple wrong turns, and now she was lost, the sun beating down on her every time she emerged from the canopy and the humidity overwhelming her when she ran back into a wooded section. She wasn’t even on normal trail anymore; she’d ended up on a paved section that she kept expecting would terminate at the parking lot and yet somehow never did.

Melanie ran down the hill and stopped in the patch of shade at the bottom, dragging her phone out of the deep pocket in the side of her navy blue leggings.

Sweat made it hard for her to grip the phone. It poured out of her, dripping off her nose, trickling down her spine. She couldn’t get her thumbprint to read on the device, and then she realized she still didn’t have any service anyway, so unlocking the device didn’t matter. She shoved the phone in her pocket and shook her water bottle before remembering she was out of water and had been out for a while. The bottle slipped from her hands without her even noticing, dropping into the dead grass with only the quietest of sounds.

“I think there’s an intersection of trails up ahead,” she muttered, squinting through her smudged sunglasses. “And hopefully legible signs.”

The last signs she’d passed were too faded to read.

Heaving a sigh and feeling queasy, Melanie took off at a jog. The sun beat down on her shoulders and stung her scalp. She was sure she’d long since sweated off her sunscreen. The bottle was back in the car along with her day pack, since the plan had been to stay out fewer than two hours. Fair-haired and freckled, Melanie knew she should have known better.

She also should have known better than to be out there at all. The fact that she was the only one walking the cracked, paved trail told her everything she needed to know. Melanie increased her pace, hoping to get to the next intersection soon. 

If there had been anyone else out there, they would have noticed that she was all over the place, struggling to keep herself upright and moving forward.

Will

He was so shocked he repeated himself. “She just ran off?” He’d already checked his phone; no messages or calls from Melanie.

“Ave, you’ve been gone… hours!” Loren, Avery’s boyfriend, exclaimed.

“She doesn’t like us and she didn’t feel good so she said she was just going to come back here.” Avery shrugged, though she had the grace to look concerned. “I thought she knew how to get back! I did ask her if she was okay.”

Will ignored the comment about Melanie “not liking” his friends and reached up to grab his topknot. It was a nervous gesture. “She wasn’t feeling good? In what way?”

“It’s really fucking hot out here,” Meegan replied in an exasperated tone, fanning herself with her hand as she sipped water. “She was hot like the rest of us!”

“We should have come back with her,” Avery said, giving Meegan a What’s wrong with you? look. “She had leg cramps and said she was nauseated. Her skin was really red. She, uh, ran out of water really early, too.”

Will spat out a quiet curse and then said: “She’s on medication. She gets hot fast… what the hell, Avery!”

Avery paled, looking at her boyfriend.

“What do you want to do, Will?” Loren asked, shaking his head.

“Look for her! If the girls beat her back, something’s wrong or she got lost.” He gestured toward the parking lot. “I’m gonna load my pack up with water.”

“I’m sure she’ll be back any minute,” Meegan said, her tone saccharine and dismissive. “You shouldn’t have to give up your second round. I’m sure she’ll call.”

“None of us had service out there!” Avery protested.

“It’s too hot for a second round anyway,” their friend Bruce said.

Will slung his backpack of discs onto his back and jogged to his station wagon. Opening the back hatch, he dumped his discs in the car before filling his bag with Melanie’s sunscreen and water from the cooler. 

“Avery and I are coming with you,” he heard Loren say. “Just give us two minutes.

“Alright.” Will closed the back hatch and slung his bag over his shoulders. “And the others?”

“Bruce, Meegan and Doug are staying back in case she shows up here. Also, because Meegan is a bitch.”

“Melanie doesn’t have a problem with Avery and Meegan,” Will said, his tone harsh.

“I know. It’s just ‘cause Meegan wants you to bone her.” 

“That’s ridiculous.”

Loren shrugged and called out: “You ready, Avery?”

The three of them ran down out of the parking lot and onto the main trail. Will noticed the pavement shimmering ahead.

“Shit it’s so hot out here.” He cringed at the way the hot air burned in his chest.

He felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach.

 

Melanie

She wasn’t going to be able to keep up her current pace.

The sun continued to beat down on her, drilling into her skull and giving her a throbbing headache. And she was running out of steam; whatever energy she’d had earlier had drained away with the sweat.

She looked into the distance. The sky farther out was dark, looking very much like a thunderstorm was headed her way. She hoped it was moving quickly; in addition to the heat, the air was humid, and breathing felt a bit like sucking on the steam from a boiling pot of water.

She tried to remember the max length of the paved trail, but couldn’t. One arm eventually connected to the municipal Greenway. 

That thought made her stumble. She snatched her sunglasses off her face, tried to wipe them off on her shirt.

“I’m not on the Greenway, am I?” She muttered, looking around her for any markers that would identify where she was. There was a bench ahead on the right, but that didn’t help her locate herself; they were all over the place. “Dammit…”

She felt strange. Her heart was beating fast in her chest, and it was hard to catch her breath. She staggered to a stop.

Melanie’s eyelids fluttered, and the world around her canted dangerously to one side. Her right leg folded, and she fell over, landing hard in the broken asphalt running along the edge of the trail. Her legs burned with a series of scrapes and cuts, and she rolled onto her back, flinging an arm over her eyes to block the glare. 

Moving around like that made the nausea build and her mouth tingle. She laid there for a while, thinking the nausea would subside. Instead, it built, making her stomach pulsate.

Gagging, she pushed herself upright and tried to spit into the dirt. Her mouth was too dry, and she couldn’t pull together enough moisture to spit. 

Can’t stay here. She had a niggling feeling that something might be wrong with that thought, that embarking on what already felt like an endless search for the right trail might be a bad idea. She didn’t have the wherewithal to examine the thought further.

Melanie forced herself to her hands and knees, then wavered there for a long time before she gained her feet. She’d stopped sweating at some point, and her skin felt tight and hot. Standing took her several tries, but eventually she hauled herself upright.

Thirsty…

Hot.

She shuffled downhill, her thoughts a useless, whirring pinwheel. 

Will…

Melanie panted, feeling like each breath was incrementally harder, desperately trying to suck in another.

Her last truly coherent thought was that this had all happened faster than she would have guessed.

Momentum carried her down the slope until her legs gave out, and she muttered “Oops” as she landed hard on her knees. She tipped over, dumping herself on the hot asphalt. She hit on her right side, giving her temple a glancing blow, then sprawled on her back, eyes closing against the bright sun.

Will

“We’re going to have to split up when the trails do,” Will said, anxiety making his tone more commanding than usual. They’d been running for fifteen minutes so far with no sign of Melanie. “We don’t know which way she went.”

“How do you want to—”

Loren was interrupted by Avery, who came to an abrupt stop, nearly causing her boyfriend to run right into her. Before he could speak, she burst out: “Is that her?! Straight ahead and up the hill?”

Will squinted. The asphalt was still shimmering, and he didn’t see what she was talking about. He was about to call whatever she was seeing a mirage, when he blinked and the glimmering mirage coalesced into an identifiable shape. There was a small person laying in a crumpled heap on the hot pavement.

“Oh my God!” Will took off at a sprint, his feet slamming the pavement. “Melanie! Melanie!”

When he reached her, he threw himself down, his bare knees making contact with the hot asphalt. “Ah! Fuck! Mel?!”

She was sprawled on her back, eyes closed. Her face was so red he could hardly see her blonde eyebrows. He could hear and see her breathing fast and shallow. She’d been sweating heavily at some point, based on the stains in her shirt and the way the fine hair around her face stuck to her skin. When he touched her, however, her skin felt hot and dry.

Loren and Avery stopped close by, and he heard Avery say: “Oh my God!”

Will gathered Melanie’s limp body in his arms and staggered to his feet, carrying her a few meters away to a shadier spot in the grass. Loren helped him lower her to the ground, supporting her neck and saying: “Will, it looks like she hit her head.”

Loren was right; he could see an abrasion along her left temple.

“I’m running back for help,” Avery said. She held a sweating water bottle out to Loren. “That was frozen this morning, it’s still really cold. I’m going back to where I have signal and calling 9-1-1, she needs an ambulance!”

“Please,” Will said, shrugging out of his back pack. “Tell them she has heat stroke, she’s unconscious and breathing fast… She takes propranolol, it makes it hard for her to regulate her temperature!”

Loren cracked open the bottle of icy water as his girlfriend took off downhill.

“Melanie!” Will called, giving her arms and hands a quick squeeze. Loren poured water in her hair and over her neck. “Melanie, please, open your eyes! Dammit, we shouldn’t have even come out here today! Melanie!”

They soaked her clothing and tucked bottles still cold from Will’s cooler underneath her arms, hoping that would help.

“We can’t give her any unless she wakes up,” Will said. He was patting Melanie’s face, lightly slapping her. “Wake up, honey. Melanie!”

“You’re right.” Loren leaned back on his heels. “What else can we do?”

“We just need to keep her from getting worse while we wait on the ambulance.” Will watched her pant for a while, then slid his thumb up to her eyelid. He pried them open one at a time, but he didn’t know what he was looking for. Her light eyes stared up and through him before each lid slipped closed again. “Melanie!” 

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Jesus, I can’t tell if she’s cooled off at all. Do you remember what happens when someone has heat stroke?”

Loren crouched by Melanie’s head, looking almost as worried as Will felt. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t. Just… if someone is red, dry, and unconscious, you call 9-1-1.”

Will grasped her shoulder and shook her. “Melanie!”

“Huh.” Melanie let out a grunt, and Will saw her eyelids flutter.

“Melanie, hey, open your eyes. It’s Will. I’ve got you and help is coming. Just open your eyes.” To his immense relief, she did. Her blue-grey eyes shifted restlessly, never quite focusing on him. She was still breathing fast and shallow, and he rested his hand on her chest, his touch feather light.

“Take a deep breath for me, Melanie. You’re breathing so fast, I bet it’s making you dizzy.”

“Wh… where…?” she whispered. He could feel her heart beating, so rapid it was hard for him to discern the individual beats.

“You’re still at the park,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. He pressed two of his fingers into her neck, feeling around until he found her pulse. “Just relax, Mel. Take a deep breath.”

“Unh…” Her eyelids fluttered, her face slackening.

“Keep your eyes open, Mel.”

Her eyes closed, and for a long moment all he could hear was the rapid pants of her labored breathing. As he watched her, her body stiffened, back bowing and a strange cry tearing from her lips. The whites of her eyes showed as her lids opened to slits. The panting sound stopped.

“Mel! Melanie!” He put his hand back on her chest. “Breathe! Can you breathe?”

She went briefly limp, then her body started jerking. He heard her breathe again, whistling through her clenched teeth.

“She’s having a seizure!” Loren exclaimed. “Like when my nephew had those fever seizures!”

Will wanted nothing more than to make it stop. He smoothed her blonde hair back from her forehead. She was making little grunting sounds, and a small amount of sticky white saliva frothed up between her lips. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay…”

The seizure didn’t last long. Her body relaxed, jaw unclenching. She was taking short, shallow breaths, though now they were much further apart. 

Will wiped the saliva off her face with the bottom of his shirt and then opened her mouth, trying to make sure she wasn’t going to choke on something inside. As he leaned close, she took a breath. There was a long pause, then she took another.

She let it out, and he waited. 

And waited.

“Melanie.” Will shook her shoulder hard.

“Did she just—”

“Melanie, take a breath!”

She remained unresponsive, her chest still. Will’s eyes darted across her face, looking for any signs of movement.

“No, no, no—” He leaned over and grasped her jaw, then pressed his mouth to hers and blew hard. He felt air escape her nostrils and belatedly pinched her nose before blowing into her mouth again. This time, her chest rose, one of her small breasts brushing against his arm.

He was at an odd angle, so he moved perpendicular to her body, tipped her head back, and forced another breath into her lungs. Her chest rose, but otherwise she laid motionless.

“Does she have a pulse?” Loren asked as Will was breathing for her again. Will pressed his fingers into her neck, felt her pulse flutter under his touch.

“Yes, but it’s so fast…” He kept breathing into her, watching her chest rise and fall. Her mouth was over-warm under his, and her skin beneath his hands felt feverish. “Take a breath, Mel. Come on, please.”

To his shock, she did, her chest rising out of sync with the breaths he’d been giving her. She exhaled, and another breath followed a few seconds later.

“That’s right, baby, just keep breathing in and out. Help will be here soon, and they’ll get you cooled off…” He clasped her hand in both of his, feeling her engagement ring against his palm. “In and out. In and out. You’re doing so good. In and out. I love you…”

Will scanned her with his eyes. Her lips looked dusky.

“Does she have any health problems?” Loren asked.

“Just migraines, but the medicine makes her kind of temperature sensitive. Fuck! I shouldn’t have brought her here today, and I should have called for help when she didn’t come back! Melanie!”

Her breaths seemed fewer and farther between, and he released her hand so he could tip her head back and rest his other hand on her chest. “You have to keep breathing, Mel. The ambulance will be here soon and they’ll make you feel better. Please, baby.”

He looked up at Loren. “How long do you think it will take them to get here?”

“It shouldn’t be much longer,” his friend reassured him. “There’s a hospital not too far from here!”

Melanie sighed, and he waited.

Several seconds passed and Will realized she’d stopped breathing again. He bent over her and pinched her nose, blowing a breath deep into her lungs. Then he pressed his fingers into her neck.

He adjusted his positioning once, twice. Waited.

“No…” The word was like an exhalation.

“What is it?” Loren asked, his voice sharp. “Will, what—”

“I think she just died.” His voice cracked, shock running through him like a jolt from a live wire.

Loren was silent for a few seconds, and then he burst into action, crawling around to her other side. “Will, if you mean she doesn’t have a pulse, then we have to do CPR!”

Will watched his friend bend over Melanie, hands clasping together before he pressed them to her sternum. His arms were straight and he rocked his shoulders over his hands, pressing down hard. Melanie let out a huff of air and Loren started counting, his compressions forceful enough to make her head rock and her feet sway.

“…four, five, six, seven…”

Will reached down and took Melanie’s hot, limp hand, squeezing it. Then he released her fingers and grabbed one of the water bottles tucked against her, already warm from her body and the air. He poured the water over her scalp, his hand making a gentle dam to keep the water off her face.

“…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!” Loren stopped pressing on her chest. “Will! Give her two breaths! Quick!”

Will dropped the empty bottle, noticing that Loren picked up the other. As he leaned over her and forced air into her lungs, Loren emptied the contents of the bottle over her chest.

“If we keep oxygen circulating, the medics might be able to revive her,” Loren said. “They have medication, and a defibrillator, and—”

He stopped speaking so he could start compressions again. “One, two, three…”

Will picked up his empty pack and used it to fan her, hoping the breeze on her wet skin would cool her off. He was trying to decide how long it would have taken Avery to get back to the parking lot, given she was headed downhill and not checking out any side paths. 

“…twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty! Breathe, Will!”

Will complied, watching her chest rise with each breath and blinking back a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea. Loren started compressions again, her shoulders twitching each time he forced her sternum down. Halfway through the set, Will heard a crunch, followed by a gagging sound from Loren.

“What was that?!” he gasped.

Loren was breathing hard and just shook his head. “…twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty! I think it’s normal, either way we can’t stop, Will!”

Will gave her another two deep breaths. It was disconcerting how warm and soft her lips were, even though, as far as he could tell, she was dead. He let his hand rest on her forehead, his thumb smoothing the fine hairs of her eyebrow. He thought he’d understood that anyone could die at any time, but looking down at her, thinking about all of the plans they’d made, he realized he hadn’t truly believed it. She was supposed to be invincible.

His head ached with regret and grief.

“…thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…”

“Please,” he whispered. “Come back. Melanie, please come back…”

“…twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…”

He ran a finger down the bridge of her nose. She had a small nose with a straight bridge and the faintest of wrinkles near the tip from repeatedly scrunching up her face. Usually to laugh at something he’d said.

“Thirty!”

He pressed his lips to hers again and gave her his breath.

“One more round and then we need to switch, my arms are getting tired!”

Another breath. “Okay. You’ll let me know if I’m fucking it up?”

“Yeah—two, three, four, five…”

Close as he was, he could hear spurts of air escape her lips each time Loren shoved his hands down into her breastbone. The pressure made her throat click.

“…fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…”

“Please, please, please don’t die, don’t die… Please don’t die, Mel.” He made himself shut up and took a deep breath, tears pricking his eyes and a wave of dizziness rolling over him. She couldn’t afford for him to lose his shit.

“Thirty!”

Will leaned over to give her two more breaths, and then he shifted down her body, clasping his hands together and pressing the heel between her breasts. Loren reached out and pulled him forward so that his shoulders were over his hands, and then Will shoved them down into her sternum. Her chest gave to the pressure, and he felt a sick chill roll through him. He popped back up and then pushed her chest down again, noticing as he did so that her stomach bulged slightly with each thrust of his hands.

“…three, four, five, six, seven…”

“That looks good, Will. I think we’ve been doing it right, helping her right…”

“…fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen…” What am I going to tell her parents? I’m supposed to protect her.

What am I going to tell MY parents?

“…twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!” Will leaned back, panting more from emotion than exertion, watching as Loren tipped Melanie’s head and gave her two rescue breaths. Her chest rose and fell with each, and then it was Will’s turn.

As he started the new round of compressions, a sound pricked his ears. A siren.

“…two, three… Loren, is—”

“That’s the fucking ambulance!” Loren shouted. “Keep going, don’t stop, they’ll tell us when to stop—”

“…twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, if you can hear me, baby, help is coming… God…” He could feel himself starting to shake.

Loren cut in: “Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…”

Will took a deep breath and continued counting for himself as his hands forced her ribcage to flex. “Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!” 

Loren’s breaths inflated Melanie’s chest, and then Will went back to compressions. The sound of the ambulance siren energized him, and he made himself compress her sternum hard and fast. 

“One, two, three, four, five—”

“I see it!”

“…seven, eight, nine, ten…”

The ambulance came to a halt on the path beside them. Will glanced up long enough to see Avery jump out of the passenger seat, her eyes huge as she realized that Will and Loren were performing CPR.

“Oh God, she stopped breathing?!”

“…twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five…” 

Someone touched his shoulder. “Sir, we’ve got her now. You did a good job.”

He glanced over. A dark-haired, female paramedic crouched beside him, already leaning around to press her fingers into Melanie’s neck. Will lifted his hands and then scrambled backward. When he tried to stand, he stumbled. A tall paramedic grabbed him under the arm, steadying him until he could stand on his own.

“Are you alright?” the man asked.

“Yes, I…” He felt like he was floating. His head pounded and his stomach throbbed, something that he hadn’t allowed himself to notice before. Everything started to spin and shimmer around him.

The medic squinted at him. “Let’s set you down.”

Will let the medic help him to the ground and then waved him off. “Help her!”

“Got another one, need to get them both in the air con…”

Loren crouched next to him, looking worried. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I went over for a second to check on Avery.” His girlfriend hovered at the tree line, her loud sobs cutting through the sound of everything else.

The female paramedic was giving Melanie compressions now, her back to the tree line. This meant he could see the effect the forceful thrusts had on Melanie’s body. She seemed to cave in around the woman’s hands, over and over again in a rapid assault.

The tall paramedic kneeled by Melanie’s head, opening packets and laying things out beside him. Will watched him grasp Melanie’s head and carefully thrust her jaw forward. He slipped something metallic into her mouth that turned on a light when he cranked it open.

The third paramedic, a stocky younger man, was starting an IV.

“Hold compressions,” the tall medic said. He threaded a tube down the length of the metal device, then retracted the device and connected a bag to the end of the tube.

The medic who’d been doing compressions pressed the bell of her stethoscope to Melanie’s chest while he squeezed the bag, then nodded and immediately started compressions again. The tall paramedic secured the tube with tape, then reached down to pick up a cold pack, activating it with a firm squeeze of his hands and shaking it. 

He tucked the pack under Melanie’s arm, then reached for another.

The paramedic with the IV began to apply electrodes to Melanie’s chest, working around the medic performing compressions. He connected the leads to a monitor and a high-pitched whine filled the air. Will heard someone say: “Asystole. Pushing epinephrine.”

More cold packs were applied to her body. The paramedic performing chest compressions switched off with the tall paramedic and started squeezing the bag.

Will clutched at his head, his breath coming fast. The paramedics were working quickly, but nothing they did seemed to change anything. The monitor whined. Melanie’s lips stayed ashen. Her body continued to limply accept the abuse, her shoulders twitching, small breasts trembling. The tube between her teeth swayed.

“Pulse check!” The medics all reached in, one pressing fingers to her neck, the other her wrist, the third pressing his gloved fingers next to her groin. After ten seconds, he heard: “No pulse, continue compressions, unpack the Lucas!”

The stocky paramedic got up and jogged to the ambulance.

“What?” Will asked quietly, glancing over at Loren. “What did they say?”

“They said they were going to ‘unpack the Lucas,’ but I don’t know what that means.”

Avery had stopped sobbing, Will realized. She was sitting much like he was, with her hands gripping her head, her eyes staring hard at Melanie’s lifeless body.

The stocky man ran back with a plastic case and set it beside Melanie. He quickly opened up the case and pulled out a yellow plastic board, which he laid on the grass above her head. Will saw him pull other equipment out of the case, but he didn’t have any context for what any of it was and he didn’t want to delay the medics by asking questions. 

The tall medic stopped compressions and the female medic slid an arm under Melanie’s back. She lifted, propping Melanie’s unconscious body upright. She was only sitting up for a short time, just long enough for the stocky medic to slide the yellow board under her back, but Will saw her face before her head sagged backward. Some of the red coloring had faded, but instead of red she was going purple-gray.

He would never be able to express what it was like to watch the woman he’d planned to marry flop limply as the paramedics laid her dusky, half naked body back down.

As soon as they got her flat, the tall medic started compressing her chest again and the female paramedic reattached the bag to the tube, squeezing it regularly. The stocky medic picked up something from the case, what looked to Will like a motor with two plastic arms that curved out from the bottom. The stocky medic clipped the arms into slots on the yellow board while the tall medic lifted his hands off of Melanie’s chest, reaching for what looked like a suction cup at the base of a piston. He directed the cup down to Melanie’s naked chest and then pressed a button on the side of the motor. The cup thumped down hard into the center of her chest, and a new sound joined the deadly whine: nn-hit, nn-hit, nn-hit. Will watched them fasten a harness over Melanie’s shoulders.

“Push another epi and then let’s get her on the bus,” the female medic said. While the stocky medic was giving Melanie medication, the tall medic took her right arm and strapped her wrist to the motor. Then the stocky medic took her wrist with the IV and lifted that arm, attaching the strap loosely and sliding his finger under the strap to make sure it wasn’t trapping the IV tubing. 

All the while, the machine pistoned itself with precision into Melanie’s chest as the remaining paramedic squeezed the bag. Will realized he could see Melanie’s engagement ring on her hand, glinting in the hot sun.

He scrambled to his feet, watching as the medics gathered up their supplies. The female medic disconnected the bag and reached down to support Melanie’s head; the others lifted from the sides. They moved her onto the waiting gurney.

Watching them move her, looking so small and vulnerable underneath the machine, Will felt something let go inside of him. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. His eyes struggled to focus. He raked his gaze across the tree line, over Avery, then back, his eyes finally settling on Mel on the gurney.

Loren reached toward him, his blurry face contorting. “Hey, you—”

Will collapsed, the world around him fading to black.

He woke an indeterminate amount of time later in the air conditioned back of the ambulance, to the sound of a piston and a high-pitched whine. Bright, artificial lights stabbed him in the eyes, and he tried to sit up, only to find that he was strapped down.

“Will? Just lay there and rest for me, alright?” an unfamiliar voice said. “We had to strap you to the backboard so you didn’t fall off. I put an IV in your arm and you’re receiving fluids. You got a little too hot and passed out on us.”

Melanie…

“Mel—” he twisted, looking toward the rhythmic noise to his right. 

“The Lucas device is pumping her heart for us.” The tall paramedic from before leaned over him. “We’re cooling her down and keeping her blood circulating so the doctors at the hospital can help her.”

Warm and dead, Will thought, shuddering. Did I hear that on television?

The paramedic seemed to be trying to block Will from looking, but he caught sight of her anyway. He could just see her profile, with the tube protruding from between her teeth. Further down, the device pumping her heart. It arched over top of her torso, rocking slightly. The suction cup punched into her sternum over and over again. He could see her breasts wobble and her stomach roll with each forceful, mechanical compression. Her pale legs rocked with the rhythm of the compression device; they’d removed the rest of her clothing and packed more cold packs around her.

“Do people survive… if you have to use that?” he asked, shivering, his voice broken.

The medic leaned over him again and removed the cold packs that Will hadn’t even noticed were tucked under his own arms.

 “Sometimes,” the man said, resting his gloved hand on Will’s arm. 

The paramedics continued to move about the small space, checking the monitor and administering more medication, even speaking directly to him, but all Will could hear was the whine of Melanie’s still heart and the relentless nn-hit, nn-hit, nn-hit of the machine pumping her chest.

#cpr resus #female resus #resus writing #medical drama

[decarabiandivorce]

Ive been thinking about RHW pledging loyalty to the 'prince' ALL DAY.... im so unwell about it.. RHW about to publicly announce loyalty to the "traitor" leader of the rebellion so they get mad at him instead of carmen: parry this you filthy casuals

I like to think his will was the hardest to break. He was used to being the strong stoic one. He was a leader! He was a warrior!

But now Carmen was in his arms sleeping soundly and none of that matters anymore. Fuck... he looks so small? It must be true... he did lie about his age and was younger than him. All this time he thought that it was just genetics, but being in such an environment in long flowy clothing really exaggerated his youth.

He feels so angry, at both his rebels and at Decarabian. He hates that despite being their Leader, Carmen was treated kinder by his enemy than by his fellow street rats.

He tries so so hard to come up with ways to leave the tower. With ways to assassinate the king and bring peace to the land...

But Venti might die if Decarabian dose also.... his wounds still not fully healed.

He wants to know more about anemo magic. He wants to know more about how being faithful makes gods stronger. Was it from love or was it from loyalty.

Because if it was based on the love a nation had for their leader... then he shudders to imagine what Decarabian would be like if he was at max approval

Days turn into weeks as he is shown The Truth by Decarabian. The king smiles as they go for a little trip down south- "You wanted to take my sons and wife here, right?"

He shows them what godly decay is. How when a being like him perishes their lifeforce will curse the land. How even if he were to slay something that could be intangible, that they would be forced to take on this and the blizzards from the wolf god.

They stand in the ruins of some destoryed city for a long time. Its warmer here. So warm. He feels like he wants to take off his cloak but he didn't want to show weakness to his tormentor.

The sun is so hot....

His head feels dizzy as Decarabian continues to talk. He is burning, yet the god looks undisturbed.

Where was his water? Oh right.... he has been living in a place where it was automatically given to you for weeks... he hasn't replenished his flask in days....

Its hot...

He can't show weakness! He can't!

Its...

The cool winds of the anemo god comfort him as he sits down on a rock. He would never admit it, but he lays his head against the king's shoulder.

"You care for my son, don't you?"

He is too exhausted to be sneaky, so he nods.

"I think he would be safer if you were by his side, maybe I could let him walk around town. I am... worried... some of his old companions would get frustrated at him."

Giving Carmen a speck of freedom? Walk around the perimeter like they used to do? Stay by his side?

He weakly nods along to the tyrant's words.

Decarabian smiles. The next time this pesky knight gose to the library, he should arrange a different sort of reading material for the young man. Of loyalty to princes and other such tomes.

Yes... his son will be so happy to have his friend be by his side til the end of days.

#steel text #found family deca au #red headed warrior #decarabian #todays freindly reminder to not wear fur and black clothing in hot areas without water for hours at a time #WHILE CARRYING A CLAYMORE #also remember to fill up your flasks before you go anywhere :)

[whump-me]

Martyr, Chapter 28: Not Over Yet

Chapter 28 of Martyr, a novel-length sci-fi whump story about a captured Martian rebel with a secret and the renowned interrogator who has waited a decade for the chance to break him. This series is best read in order. Masterpost here.

Contains: whumper POV, restraints, interrogation, aftermath of severe injury, verbal sparring, emotional whump

---

Isadora

“Then your rebellion meant nothing to you?” Isadora asked, testing him, even though he had given her the answer she had expected. “You would abandon it so easily?”

“You’re the one who just got done telling me how stupid it would be for me to go back.”

“Well, yes, but you rebels tend to have more conviction than brains. I’ve talked to a lot of you over the years, and the way you tend to talk, you’d think you were all champing at the bit for the chance to martyr yourselves.”

“The way you did, you mean?”

Why did this man, even now, have the power to ignite a flame of hot anger in her cold center? “Even if I were foolish enough to chase death based on an ephemeral emotion, I have enough brains to know staying alive to fight another day would be far more effective.”

“Oh, really.” Half his lips twisted on one side in a faint, bitter echo of his old grin. “You mean to tell me you haven’t given up anything of yourself for what you believe in? So you were born this way, huh?” He shook his head. “You must’ve been a strange child to raise, if that’s the case.”

The flame of fury grew. She ruthlessly tamped it down. She took a deep breath—in for four, out for four.

She knew why his words got to her the way they did. At this point in the game, it was pointless to deny it. He wouldn’t have been able to get under her skin this way if he weren’t right.

She loosened her hands around the arms of her chair. She hadn’t realized she had tightened them. “We were talking about you,” she reminded him. “If anything you said in our first real conversation was true, you’ve been with the rebellion from the beginning. Even if you’re not as eager to sacrifice yourself as your compatriots, could you really walk away from something you’ve devoted your life to for so long? Was it really only ever about the pull he had over you?”

“That’s a complicated question,” said Wraith. There was no artifice in his voice. Strange as it seemed, she had the impression he was giving her question the consideration it deserved.

At last, he continued. “It wasn’t just about him,” he finally said. “I watched people die, the same as a lot of us did. I was angry. But not everyone who was angry took the route I took. Even before I knew I loved him, I was trying to be what he wanted. If I had, maybe I would have taken some brief futile revenge and flamed out quickly. Or maybe my anger would have burned bright and hot for a while, and then faded away as I let myself forget about those early days. Would that have been better? I don’t know. I’m proud of the work I’ve done, no matter why I did it.”

“You’re proud of the people you killed?” Isadora couldn’t resist cutting in.

At that, he graced her with a cold smile. “I may not be a true believer, but I still take satisfaction in justice. Not to mention revenge. So yes, I am.” Then the smile faded from his face as he continued. “The rebellion would be better off with me, I know that for certain. But let’s be honest—that’s not an option for me anymore, no matter what I want. Even if I were to walk out of here today—and we both know how likely that is—you people would track me right back to them. Back to him. I can’t let that happen.”

“Only if you let them,” Isadora pointed out. “You haven’t kept yourself alive this long by being easy to track.”

He acknowledged her words with a half-shrug. His face showed how much that simple movement cost him. “I could go back. It’s what a true believer would do; it’s what he would do. What you would do, I’m sure. But me? I’ve spent half of the last ten years trying to be everything he wants me to be, and the other half keeping him and everyone he cares about alive by being everything he can’t be. I wouldn’t mind being selfish for once. I’d like to figure out if there’s something else I can love the way he loves the cause. Something—someone, maybe—that would love me back.” He lowered his head. His hair fell across his eyes. “Or at least not break my heart.”

His lips curved in a wry smile. “Not that it matters, because you and I both know I’m going to die here. I’m going to die for him, just like he planned—just like I planned. It’s a shame we only figure these things out after it’s too late, isn’t it?”

An unexpected burst of laughter, sharp and jagged as the shards of ice she could feel snapping loose in her chest, left her lips at that. Wraith’s head jerked up. His eyes went wide. For a second, before he covered it up, pure panic shone in his gaze.

He smoothed out his expression a second later, but a dark glimmer of fear remained. His ragged breathing filled the room, breaking the silence left in the wake of her outburst.

Of course he had reacted that way—he probably thought she was losing control again. And who could blame him? After all, it wasn’t as if he was wrong. The only thing that had been holding her together—the image of the noble crusader she had clung to for so long—was gone. Even she didn’t know what was left.

Wraith stared deeply into her eyes. Whatever he saw there, it intensified the fear on his face, creating lines of tension where none had been a moment ago. But his voice, when he spoke, was weary and resigned. “Get on with it,” he said. “But do me a favor and finish the job this time, will you?”

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’d rather not damage you all over again. It was hard enough healing you up the first time.”

Wraith didn’t answer for a moment, but the look on his face broadcast his skepticism clearly enough. He watched her without blinking, as if looking away for the slightest fraction of a second would bring her fists raining down on him all over again. Her gut tightened with shame.

Then she took a deep breath, and released the tension with her exhale. The time for shame was done, along with the time for self-deceit. Today, she was trying something new.

A sharp pain shot through her chest as another crack erupted in the ice that had held her together for so long. The pain was all in her head, she knew, but the felt real enough. Under the ice, dark water surged, rippling with emotion she didn’t understand. Was it a good feeling or a bad one? Was this joy she felt in her heart, or dread, or blind panic? Maybe some mix of the three. Maybe it didn’t matter.

“If we’re done talking about the future I’ll never have,” said Wraith, “how about you tell me who won your little game? You did beat me nearly to death. And you’re probably going to do it again. That’s a pretty clear victory for you, I’d say. On the other hand, I made Isadora Pope lose control, which has to count for something.” Unexpectedly, a flicker of his old grin played across the corners of his mouth. “Besides, you didn’t get what you wanted from me. And you won’t.”

“You’re still capable of your old bravado,” said Isadora. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Are you kidding? I don’t have the energy for that. I’m just telling you the truth.”

And she had to acknowledge to herself that it was true. She had never failed to make a prisoner talk— and yet, looking into Wraith’s tired eyes, she knew she would never get the information she wanted from him. Even if she destroyed him utterly, the way she had once planned to. He would take his secrets to his grave.

She wondered how it would feel to love someone like that. Did he feel about this leader of his the way she felt about her duty to Mars? Or did it feel more like the alien surge of emotion that ran through her body when she thought about the thing she had really wanted when she had demanded to come back to this place?

Because it had never really been about saving this benighted rock. It hadn’t been about about preserving Mars’s exports for Earth—who in the world had ever chosen to sacrifice their life for exports? No, she had sacrificed herself for the chance to be more than just one more grunt guarding a factory door. To fight for something greater than herself, like she had dreamed of when she had put on the uniform for the first time—even though back then she hadn’t had words to put to her desire, aside from some impassioned declarations about freedom and justice that made her cringe now. But the underlying desire had never faded.

Huh. Even as empty as she was, it seemed she could still feel something after all.

And yes, she decided as she looked into Wraith’s eyes—what he felt for his leader had to be something like that.

Despite what he had said, despite what she had thought, it looked like the two of them weren’t so different after all.

She didn’t share that thought with him.

He was still watching her, waiting for an answer. “I can’t answer that question,” she said, “because the game isn’t over yet.”

---

Tagged: @straight-to-the-pain @soheavyaburden @gala1981 @whumpacabra @sacredwrath @suspicious-whumping-egg @sonder35 @decahedron-crabclaw @seasaltandcopper @tremendousenemyhideout @bloodinkandashes @whumplr-reader @whatiswhumpblog @delicateprincepaper @sunshiline-writes

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#whump #whump writing #whump story #whump novel #my writing #my writing: Martyr #sci-fi whump #interrogation whump

[tadpolesonalgae]

Azriel x reader: part 2 - Rhysand breaks your heart

A/N: these can be read solo but might be confusing in places ^_^

Synopsis: You’d been in love with Rhysand for nearly two centuries. A relationship had flowered between the two of you UTM, but you were sent away in the fifth decade. It’s Starfall, your first time seeing him since Amarantha’s fall, but he’s got his eyes on someone else. Heartbroken, you run from the building, the Shadowsinger unable to stand by and watch follows you outside to offer some form of comfort.

He spotted you, crouching at the entrance of a dark alleyway, tears dropping down onto the cobbled streets.

Approaching slowly, but loud enough for you to hear, he stopped a few feet from your hunched figure.

You looked so sad, so alone, curled over yourself, tremors shaking your delicate body as you sobbed into your palms helplessly.

All that training. A decade of waiting for him, of getting stronger for him, and he had found someone to replace you. He didn’t need you anymore.

But you still needed him. Still ached whenever you thought of him, your heart surely turned a permanent bruised purple.

All that training, and you were still weak to your emotions. Still so easily defeated by him.

You realised the Spymaster was stood behind you when you heard footsteps approaching and some shadows scooted past your vision.

“Go away, Shadowsinger,” you bit out. You never really used his name, anyway. Even ‘Spymaster’ or ‘Shadowsinger’ were rare.

“You’re upset,” he spoke softly. Much softer than you had ever heard him.

“Did you know?” You managed, trying to calm your sobbing. “Did you know he had found someone else?”

There was silence on his end.

You sniffed, wiping your eyes before tilting your head to look up at him.

There was a small trace of guilt in his eyes as he met yours.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as your lip curled, “why didn’t you say anything?” You snarled, eyes hot, and wet.

“It wasn’t my place.” He tried, giving you an almost sympathetic look.

“You mean you didn’t care.”

More silence.

You got to your feet, wiping your wet palms on the dress you had found - one of the first Rhys had given you, maybe two centuries ago.

“None of you do…” you muttered beneath your breath as your brows scrunched and the corners of your mouth tilted downwards.

“That’s not true.” He spoke, “we do care.”

You shot him a look that told him you called bullshit.

“You’ve all been distant these past few months,” again you wiped your eyes, trying to stop your tears, “guess now I know what caused the silence.”

“We haven’t-”

“Yes. Yes, you have. Don’t even try to pretend.” You snapped, too upset to realise the tone you were using on him. “You especially.”

A growl rumbled in his chest, a shard of guilt lancing through yours. “I’m leaving, not that you’d care,” you bit out, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you lifted the hem of your dress up, the ends slightly muddy from crouching.

He gripped you by the wrist. “We do care, if you would just listen—”

“Shut. Up, Azriel!” You raised your voice, pulling your wrist away as he looked at you, taken aback. You’d never raised your voice around them, at any of them.

You’d never used his name either.

He knew he should be more concerned over your sudden actions, but gods, the sound of his name on your lips was a heaven he hadn’t known existed.

“Just—let me go, okay?” You added, overcome with fatigue, eyes feeling sore from crying. They were definitely going to puff up.

You began walking away then stopped, making a small light of hope spark in his chest.

“I won’t be coming to training for a while,” you mumbled, back to him.

The spark went out.

He waited, desperately, for you to say anything else, but you didn’t look back, continuing walking away from him. Leaving him behind.

He was angry with his brother.

Angry, but happy that he had found someone. Conflicted.

Rhys had hurt you, broken your heart, but he had begun healing his own. How could he be mad at his brother for living?

“You’re more silent that usual,” the High Lord observed from across the library.

Azriel remained silent, not sure what to do. He had an opportunity.

“You should clear things up with her, Rhys.”

From across the room, he could feel his brother tense. Hear the High Lord shift to look at him. “Who?”

Azriel’s grip turned white on the book he was holding, calming himself before he returned the book to its shelf.

“(Y/N).”

Azriel watched grudgingly as alarm passed over Rhysand’s features.

“I thought she would have moved on…” he began slowly, processing this information.

“Well, she hasn’t,” Azriel spoke, a little tighter than usual.

“How do you know?” He asked, beginning to fill in the blanks.

“She saw you.”

The High Lord’s eyes left the Shadowsingers momentarily.

“Last night, she saw you and Feyre, on the balcony,” Azriel’s jaw was tight, painfully.

His released a heavy sigh, “I see.”

“You need to clear things up with her, otherwise she’ll just end up overthinking everything and blaming herself.”

The High Lord’s eyes flicked up to Azriel’s, a little surprised by how much attention he had paid. Also noting his tense shoulders and the slight anger in his eyes.

“You…” he began, suddenly understanding his brothers unusual reaction.

“I…?” Azriel challenged, crossing his arms.

Rhys sighed, bumping his palm on the surface of the table, “I’ll be on my way, then,” he murmured, moving past the Shadowsinger on silent feet.

There was a knock at your door.

You hadn’t left your home since the night before, remaining cooped up in layers of blankets, crying relentlessly. Playing and replaying his expression over and over in your mind. Had he ever looked at you like that?

You stayed silent, not feeling like obliging whoever was there, especially not in your current state.

“Anyone home?”

You jerked forward, a fresh wave of tears spilling from you as you instantly recognised his voice. The first time you had even heard it in ten long years. It hurt more than you expected.

“(Y/N)?” He called, knocking again, slowly.

You covered your ears with your hands, trying to block out the sounds, trying to forget him. Trying to forget his voice, his scent, his smile.

Your bottom lip trembled as you got up, moving toward the door but not opening it.

“Go away,” you called hoarsely from the other side, knowing your voice would break if you used his name.

“We should talk,” he spoke softly from the other side of the wooden door.

“Go away,” you repeated, he probably already knew you were crying. There was a silence, as he thought about what to do next, how to get a response.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, softly. Your heart broke again as you heard him place his hand on the door.

“I said, go away, Rhysand,” just as you had expected, your voice broke on his name, not being able to handle those two, dear, syllables. “Leave me alone.”

Another silence, longer as he waited outside.

“Please, (Y/N). Let me in,” he asked softly, so close on the other side of the door. “Please, just let me talk to you. Let me explain it.”

Your brows curved upwards, his voice sending pain wrenching in your chest.

“Your affections have clearly changed, what could you possibly need to explain further than that?” You heard the bitterness in your voice and didn’t mind it, not one bit.

“Please,” there was a note of desperation in his voice, making your heart wrench.

You sighed, defeated as another set of tears tumbled from your eyes at how weak you were for him, how easily you came apart.

The blankets dropped to the floor, leaving you in the same dress you had worn the night before.

Opening the door slightly you peered through the crack, violet eyes staring back at you.

“What is it?” You mumbled, keeping the door close enough so that he could only see your face, not what you were wearing.

His eyes scanned you over, most likely noting the red puffiness and the messiness of your hair.

“Let me in,” he asked, worry in his voice.

How sickening kind he could be. He had broken your heart, left in pieces, yet still concern shone in those beautiful eyes of his, like he wasn’t the one who had caused you to become such a wreck.

“I can hear you just fine,” you managed, wiping your eyes, trying to become somewhat presentable before the male who held your heart.

He gave you a look, brows curving downwards slightly, knowing the reasoning behind your adamant refusal.

“We need to talk properly, I can’t explain it with you hidden away like this,” he argued, so softly, still so kind; considerate.

You hated him for being able to work you like that, knowing what to say, what to do to get you to comply. Not that you were entirely unwilling on your part.

His eyes traced yours as you looked away for a second, considering. “Fine.”

Stepping back from the doorway you pulled a long blanket back over you, hiding your clothes, not sure you would be able to face him if he saw what a mess you’d become.

He pushed the door open, stepping in and shutting it behind him, following you further inside, allowing you to lead him to the kitchen - not the living room.

“What is it?” You asked, sitting in one of the chairs, reaching for some tissues that were placed conveniently on the counter top.

The High Lord sat down in the chair opposite you, bracing his forearms on the table. “I’m sorry.”

You dabbed the tissues to your eyes, refusing to look at him - as if that would preserve even a shred of your already crumbling dignity.

“I thought you would have moved on since then,” he started, his voice soft but steady, “it’s been a decade.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to allow the sob to slip from your lips. “We were together for four,” you managed, “four decades, and you thought I would just forget about us?” Your bottom lip trembled.

“There isn’t an ‘us’ anymore,” he spoke, firmly and you nearly screamed at him. “That’s over. I’ve moved on, and you should too.” He took on a more gentle tone.

You bit your lip in a mixture of frustration and regret, “it’s her isn’t it?”

His shoulders tensed, fingers lacing tightly on the table top.

“The former human - you love her.” It wasn’t a question. “I saw the way you looked at her. I was there last night, and I saw the two of you on the balcony.”

The High Lord nodded stiffly, already aware of this, a bit alarmed over how easily you figured his emotions out.

“You’ve known her for less than a year, Rhysand,” you couldn’t bring yourself to shorten his name, to use the familiar version. It would feel too intimate.

“Was i—” you swallowed your tears, trying so hard to keep them down, “was I not good enough?” You choked out, voice sounding raspy from crying.

“No,” he replied quickly, “no, it wasn’t you,” he assured. Or tried to.

“Then why, Rhysand? I thought— I thought you… that we…” you couldn’t manage it, hands fisting in the blanket. “If it’s not me, then why?”

He swallowed, the only sign that he was also finding this taxing, “Feyre is…special, to me.”

Your gaze snapped to his, unable to stop the rapid tears that now streamed down your cheeks as you pieced it together.

“She’s your mate, isn’t she?” You could barely think, slumping against the back of your chair. “I never stood a chance,” you murmured.

If you hadn’t been crying, you would have noticed the shock in his eyes again at how easily you figured it out.

“Please, leave,” you murmured quietly.

“(Y/N)—”

“I’m not going to say anything to her, Rhys,” you snapped. “When would I have the chance? Even if I did, do you really think so little of me that I would reveal something like that?” You had started that thought angry, but by the end you could feel the empty pull coming from within, the hollow pain as you realised he did think that. He really thought you may have told her out of petty anger.

“I’m sure you have other things to attend to, High Lord,” you muttered, standing up, telling him you were done with this conversation - that you couldn’t take it anymore.

He looked like he was going to protest but held his tongue when he saw the look in your eyes, instead following you to the front door.

“I waited for you,” you whispered as he passed, him stopping outside, back to you. “I never moved on, never even looked at anyone else that way. I knew you’d come back.” You sniffed quietly, “I just thought it would be to me.”

His shoulders rose as he took in a breath. And walked away.

That was it then.

It was really over.

All in under half an hour.

You shut the door on the bright city of Velaris, removing your blankets and chucking the dress to the back of your closet, throwing yourself onto your bed and shoving your head into the pillows, teeth clamping down on the soft fabric to muffle your screams of utter agony.

#acotar #Rhysand #Rhysand angst #acotar angst

[noxsoulmate]

13 from the hand holding prompt for Tarlos pleasssssssse

💜💜😘💜

Did this suddenly turn out really, really long for a quick prompt? Maaaaybe 😁 and obviously, I had to combine it with the @tarlosweeklyprompts bingo

Please remember that these aren’t beta-read. I might hand these to my beta one day and then put better versions up on ao3, but until then you’ll have to live with my mistakes 😅

Tarlos Weekly Prompts Bingo

Square 7: NSFW: Makeup Sex

Hand-holding

13. linking hands together during sex

TK was so incredibly tired. He hadn’t slept well in a few days, and he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the reason was. Well, no, that was a lie. He kinda knew what the reason was but there were so many factors that it was hard to point out just one of them. 

… and maybe even that was a lie because it all came down to this: Carlos and he had gotten into another fight. Another one that could probably be solved quickly if they would just talk.

They did talk, that was the terrible part of it. They talked – well, texted, to be fair – about the necessities of life; what was needed from the next grocery run, the laundry that had to be taken care of, a reminder to call a mutual friend whose birthday it was that day. They talked – but they hadn’t yet talked.

TK’s mind was scattered and it showed in the way he couldn’t really focus. He wanted to talk to Carlos but of course, right after their fight, their week-long stretch of mismatched shifts had begun. They’d promised each other to never go to bed angry and to not leave the house in a fight, and in a way, they’d kept that promise. They’d agreed to put a stop to the topic – a thing that was usually almost impossible for a hot-head like TK. But this was Carlos, this was the love of his life, so of course, he would make sure to not let him leave for a shift while still angry. 

They’d stopped fighting, but they hadn’t solved the issue yet. 

And they hadn’t slept in the same bed since that fight six days ago. Which was always the time when they would really talk, would open up, would meld into each other, and forgive. They had forgiven each other, in a way – but the whole topic wasn’t solved yet. But TK was ready to just let it drop for good. Meld into Carlos’ arms and tell him it was okay, that he wasn’t angry anymore… because, yes, for once, it wasn’t TK’s fault they’d been fighting. For once, it was because of Carlos. 

Not that TK really cared anymore. These six days had been hell. And he knew it wouldn’t have dragged out for so long if only they’d had time together. But they hadn’t. It was a miracle if they even saw each other, but usually, it was in a way that one would come home while the other would be leaving. Just enough time for a quick kiss and a, “Stay safe, I love you.”

Theoretically, TK knew this didn’t really count as fighting anymore – but it also wasn’t solved and that was the worst. It was an in-between, and it showed in the way their text messages stuck to the important things instead of endless rows of emojis; it showed in the tense lines of Carlos’ shoulders and his worried gaze whenever he would come home and TK had to leave. Was Carlos seriously fearing the worst? That TK would run again? Well, given his track record, Carlos probably did worry – but he had no reason to. Which was one of the messages TK sent him, telling him that they would talk once they were finally both back home but that he loved him and that Carlos should stop worrying. But he knew his man better than that and knew it wasn’t enough. 

Mostly though, the unsolved issue showed in the way TK couldn’t find any sleep, neither at home in their empty bed nor at the station. And judging by the dark lines under Carlos’ eyes, it was the same for him.

So when TK got home that night – the last one of their alternating shifts, with Carlos already home alone for a few hours and both of them having the next few days off – he simply let his bag drop to the floor, not caring about it for the moment. All he could see was his fiancé, standing in the kitchen, cooking; looking up at him the moment he got inside, the insecurity written so very clearly, very deeply in his gaze.

He knew they needed to talk, needed to get this whole topic out of the way. But for now, all he could do was drag his tired body over there and basically slump into Carlos’ arms. His fiancé was surprised, TK could tell, but it didn’t take long until he was hugging him back, squeezing him tight when he noticed that TK wasn’t going to pull away.

“I love you,” TK murmured into his ear. “So fucking much. So please, could you please stop worrying that I’ll leave you over a little fight?”

Carlos sucked in air, drawing back from the hug. Not far, just enough to still be in each other’s arms but able to look at each other.

“I wasn’t thinking that–”

“You were,” TK interrupted softly, lifting one hand to smooth out one of Carlos’ worry lines. “And I’m so sorry I wasn’t this blunt with you sooner. Or that we couldn’t find a quiet minute.”

“We agreed we were good,” Carlos argued, but it was weak at best and TK only needed to lift one eyebrow for him to sigh. “Okay, yes, you’re right. Maybe I was a bit worried. But… not really, you know?”

“You mean,” TK began, strengthening his hold around Carlos’ waist. “Your brain and your heart knew I wouldn’t run, but those dark little voices still reared their ugly heads?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Carlos confirmed, resting his head on TK’s shoulder. “God, that was stupid, I know–”

“Yes, and no,” TK assured him, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Yes, it was stupid, because I didn’t put that ring on your finger for nothing. I’m done running away. But also, no. Your feelings will never be stupid, least of all to me. I care about all your worries.”

When Carlos leaned back up, their lips found each other in a comforting kiss, one that spoke of all the feelings that were so alive between them, all the want and all the love and all the devotion.

“What would you like to do first?” Carlos asked when the kiss ended. “Food? Shower? Bed?”

“Yes, please,” TK groaned, “In that order, and with you never further apart than an arm’s length.”

Carlos chuckled and pressed one more kiss to his lips, then turned and continued preparing their food. It was delicious as always, even though TK had to eat with one hand, refusing to let go of Carlos’ for even a second. After cleaning the kitchen together, they shared a shower, spending more time hugging and kissing than actually getting clean.

Not caring about how tired he’d been when he got home, TK was unable to let go of Carlos when they stumbled into their bedroom. It was then that he realized, it wasn’t that they needed to talk about the whole topic once more. They didn’t need to discuss it into oblivion, didn’t need to even agree on the topic.

No, all they really needed was this. A moment just for them; a moment in which they could get lost in each other again, making sure to remind them that a little fight, a disagreement, would never again be strong enough to separate them. They didn’t need to talk… at least, not with words.

Instead, they let their bodies do the talking, reassuring each other that they were still one, that they were still a team. That they still loved each other, no matter what. TK made sure to write it into Carlos’ skin with every brush of his fingers, every touch of his lips, every nip of his teeth, and every lick of his tongue. And Carlos returned every message in his own way. By rolling on top of TK and pressing him down into the sheets – just like he liked it. By caging him in with his body, surrounding him fully, leaving not one part of him that wasn’t in contact with Carlos’ skin – just like he craved it. By linking their fingers together, lifting TK’s hands over his head, leaving him completely at Carlos’ mercy – just like he loved it. Every single time. Their fingers stayed linked together no matter what, neither of them letting go as they took each other apart, only to put each other back together in the end.

And as they lay there, together, catching their breath, fingers still linked, TK pressed a soft kiss into Carlos’ heated skin. “I love you more than life, babe. You’re never getting rid of me again,” he promised, and when Carlos pressed a kiss against his lips in return, TK was sure that even the dark voices inside his fiancé’s mind had finally gotten the message.

Yes, still slowly working my way through all the asks, thanks for being patient 😘 if anyone wants to, feel free to

Send me an ask and get drabbles in return 😊

(credit to @creativepromptsforwriting for the prompts as well as @tarlosweeklyprompts for the bingo board)

#noxy writes #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #angst with fluff #hand holding #makeup smut #fluff #wip game #wip weekend #911 lone star #tarlosweeklyprompts #tarlos weekly prompts bingo

[polizwrites]

Tensegrity

This is a fill for today’s  @februaryficletchallenge Day 8: “This is the last time I bail you out!” as well as my  @tonystarkbingo S5 - James “Rhodey” Rhodes and  @avengersbingo  A1 - Vulnerability  squares.

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Tony Stark x James “Rhodey” Rhodes Rating: Teen Tags: MIT era, mutual pining (unresolved), Rhodey POV Word Count: 620

“Tensegrity is a structural principle based on a system of isolated components under compression inside a network of continuous tension, and arranged in such a way that the compressed members do not touch each other.”

“This is the last time I bail you out!” Jim hissed through gritted teeth. He’d dragged Tony out of countless parties just before things got bad, acted as scapegoat when Howard called his son out on the carpet and even helped with frantic last-minute assignments (Tony HATED writing essays), but this time it was just too much.

Tony had been minutes away from being caught in a compromising position with a clearly willing young man and Jim had never been so angry at his best friend. Not for the reason everyone would have suspected - that Tony had turned out to be gay. In fact, it was something like the opposite. Jim hated the fact that Tony’s half-naked partner hadn’t been him.

The realization had hit Jim like a punch in the gut. He cared about Tony, sure - they’d been best friends for years. But Jim wasn’t gay; he’d never felt any kind of attraction toward any other man. But that apparently didn’t apply anymore when it came to Tony.

“Aw, c’mon, Rhodeybear!” Tony slurred as Jim picked up his discarded shirt with one hand and tugged at Tony’s arm with the other, steering him out of the back door of the frat house. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

Jim could tell that Tony was either drunk or high, or possibly both, which was yet another reason Jim had swooped in and broken up the party; he couldn’t be sure Tony had given consent and wouldn’t regret his actions in the morning. “It’s just, well, he was so damn hot!” Tony continued, his words still blurry, “Besides, he reminded me a little of you.”

“What?” Jim froze in his tracks on the sidewalk; this in turn made Tony stumble forward, as Jim was still holding his arm.

“Oh shit -- did I say that out loud?” Tony’s eyes went wide and he clapped his free hand to his month.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” Jim replied, his mind reeling at the possibility that Tony might actually want him as more than just a best friend.

The next morning -- well, nearly afternoon -- Tony grunted a monosyllable greeting in Jim’s direction as he made a beeline for the coffeemaker. Jim had left it half-full and prepped it for the next pot while he was waiting for Tony to regain consciousness. He’d also put Tony’s favorite mug out, and filled it with several generous spoons of sugar.

It took most of that mug before Tony spoke a coherent sentence. “How badly did I fuck up last night?”

Jim shrugged. “Almost getting caught making out with another guy in a frat house full of macho assholes isn’t one of the smarter things you’ve ever done.”

“And I’ve got you to thank for hustling my ass out of there, don’t I?” Tony shook his head. “I swear, I don’t know why you put up with me.”

“You’re my friend, Tony.” And I love you, Jim ached to add, but didn’t dare. Not even after what might have been Tony’s drunken confession the night before. Jim was still too shaken by his own self-revelation to be able to figure out what to do next.

Tony gave him a long, searching look, his deep brown eyes rimmed in red. “And I’m thankful for that, really I am.” But there was something in Tony’s voice that didn’t sound thankful at all; rather it was almost forlorn. “I don’t deserve you.”

Jim didn’t think so either; Tony was going to change the world and needed someone socially acceptable by his side who could make sure that happened. “You know what we both deserve? Cinnamon rolls from the bakery down the street. Put some shoes on, Tones. I’m buying.”

#writing stuff #fanficlet #FFC 23 #mcu/marvel #IronHusbands #tony x rhodey #Shameless self promo