#thinking about using a specific tag for my rumblings

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Epilogue

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Word Count: 5,849

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So this is it, the epilogue, the end. I'm so sad to say goodbye to this series. I've really loved writing it, even if it kicked my ass a couple of times. I know I've said this already, but it definitely bears repeating - I'm so unbelievably grateful for the love and support you've all shown this series. Thanks so much - and I hope you enjoy this little peak into Dean and Y/N's lives a decade later. This ended up about twice as long as I'd planned. Lol! Enjoy! ❤️

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The dividers below were created by @saradika

Spring, 10 Years Later

The rumbling engine of the Impala was silenced as Dean pulled into the garage and parked Baby in her spot. The camp had eight cars now, so they'd had to expand the garage two summers before. The cars got shuffled around all the time, but Baby always kept her spot on the end. Everyone knew it was her spot.

The late afternoon sun shone in through the garage windows as Dean removed the keys from the ignition and pushed them back into his black, denim jacket pocket.

Sam was sitting beside him and shot him a questioning look when Dean didn't immediately jump out. “Dean?” 

Dean nodded and then looked over at his little brother. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

Sam sighed. He'd already answered this question from his brother, in various forms, three or four times. 

The Deerling Survivors Camp, a small camp located almost seventy miles away, had sent a message to Dean a week earlier, requesting a face-to-face meeting. Dean had asked Sam to come along and they'd stayed overnight at the fledgling camp. The pseudo-leader there, just a young kid who’d been thrust into the role, had asked them to let Deerling join Camp Chitaqua, and after seeing the shape of the camp, Dean had agreed on the spot.

Years earlier the four smaller camps surrounding Chitaqua had joined them, expanding the camp by miles and miles and raising the population by more than two hundred people. It had been a big decision, and Dean had consulted with the council for a couple days before agreeing to the expansion. 

It was a very good decision in the end, since they now had enough land to plant six, four acre farm plots. They made sure to rotate crops, leaving one field fallow every season and using it for grazing pasture. But all that fertile land meant that the campers all had plenty of fresh vegetables. Their expanded size also allowed them to enlarge their barn, so they could now house and care for four cows and a bull, two horses, dozens of chickens, a rooster, two pigs, and eight sheep. 

They'd bartered and traded with other camps for most of their animals or found them wandering around alone and unclaimed. But they bought their sheep from a farmer living in what used to be Iowa. A lot of farmers had started over there, scratching out a new life from the soil, now that the world had started turning once again.

Seven years ago they'd finally succeeded in producing a vaccine. It had taken a lot of hard work. For three years, every single person that worked on it did so with nothing more than a promise of a better tomorrow. 

It had taken another two plus years to get the word and the vaccine out to people, but now most of the population was vaccinated. The vaccine had also been carried overseas. They couldn't be sure how things were going across the pond because communication was still very limited. But they'd heard rumors that it was going well. 

Some infrastructure was up and running again; they had electricity in some places, and some cities had running water again. There were even some places that had phone lines connected - in and around the bigger cities where people were beginning to congregate.

Things seemed to be progressing quickly out west in the former California, where they'd reportedly started broadcasting some form of Television again. Not very many people had TVs anymore to watch, but it seemed comforting to people just to know something resembling their former lives was returning. 

Not everything was perfect, of course. There was no centralized government, or structured, widespread laws. Most areas had variations of camps like Chitaqua with leaders in charge, or occasionally small, internally elected governments that ran the camp. Lawlessness still existed in a lot of places, but it was being beaten further back every day as groups banded together. 

There were also still some areas that were uninhabitable because massive groups of Croats still roamed there. The researchers that had created the vaccine were working on a cure for those who’d already been infected, but thus far they’d proved unsuccessful. Croat attacks still happened sometimes, but the vaccine meant that people just had to deal with the bite itself, making sure it was healing properly - something that was becoming easier as medical stations were springing up in and around larger populations as well, as doctors went back to healing people as they’d been trained to do.

Chitaqua had a physician, Dr. Turner, who lived in the camp. The Medical Tent was no more and instead the doctor’s office and their cache of medical supplies were now housed in a big log structure that had been tiled inside to keep it as clean and sanitary as possible. Patrick was happy to be rid of guard duties these days, working alongside Dr. Turner to watch over the health and well-being of the campers.

There weren’t many tents left nowadays either. They had a bunch stored away in case the camp ended up with a big influx of new campers and temporary housing was needed. But most people lived in log cabins of varying sizes, dotted over the two and a half square miles of the camp. There were well over five hundred people in the camp now, since amalgamating the four other camps. They also had a reputation for being a prosperous, strong community, so people tended to migrate there as well - which continued to add to their numbers.

Now, after the meeting with the Deerling camp, they’d be adding another ninety-six people to their ranks, inflating their population to nearly seven hundred people. Dean was worried about the fact that he’d made the decision to absorb the smaller camp without consulting the council this time. 

The council was a group made up of eight other people besides Dean. Sam and Y/N were on it, as well as Brandy, Risa, Dr. Turner, and three other campers who were there representing the hunters, the farmers and the builders.

Day-to day decisions were still handled by Dean, but he relied on the council for other bigger decisions - taking their thoughts, ideas and opinions into account before he ultimately made a decision. Agreeing to take in another flock of people and develop another thirty acres of land was definitely one of those big decisions he’d normally take to the council, which was why, Sam knew, Dean had been second guessing his unilateral decision to say yes to Deerling’s request.

Sam shook his head at his brother as he answered Dean’s worry again. “Dean, you acted out of generosity, the council will understand. I can vouch for the fact that those campers need a lot of help very quickly. Those kids were starving, you could see that.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I know, but I just brought the camp more strain on resources with no benefits.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, there’s the land.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, unfarmable land that’s separated from us by almost eighty miles. And Brisbane camp sits between us and Deerling, and they already think we’re trying to take them over. Joining with a group on the other side of them is gonna make them even more suspicious and possibly turn them unfriendly.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I should have consulted the council.”

“Dean, there’s no way the council would have opted to just let a bunch of kids and sick people die. They’re definitely going to agree with your decision, and this way you’ve simply ensured that we can get food and medicine out to them by tomorrow instead of making them wait days for it. Trust me, you made the right decision.”

Dean grunted his response, still unsure. 

Sam slapped the back of his hand against Dean’s shoulder. “Now, I’m gonna go talk with the Doc about getting supplies together and coming out there with me tomorrow. Will you talk with Brandy later about food?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” A smile finally lit his face. “And then I’m goin’ home.”

Sam smiled and opened his door to climb out of the Impala. “Good plan. Give Y/N and the kids a kiss for me.”

Dean climbed out too and slammed his door behind him. He called Sam back as his brother began to walk away. 

“We should also figure out a time and day to have a sit down with the new leader from Brisbane, talk with her about our intentions regarding Deerling. She’s tough, but she seems more approachable and level-headed than their last leader. Maybe we can convince her we’re not looking to take anything over.” 

Sam nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Dean frowned. “What’s her name again?”

“Eileen Leahy.” 

Dean noticed his brother’s cheeks turn pink and he immediately turned back into an annoying big brother, his grin wide. 

“Right, right, you met with her alone last time. She’s cute, huh? Something we should know? Maybe you should invite her over to our place for dinner next week. We can have our little sit down conversation then. What do you think?”

Sam had already turned and started walking away. “You’re an idiot!” He called back over his shoulder. But Dean made a mental note to tell Y/N all about it later. 

With Y/N firmly in mind he started out across the camp. Their cabin was situated on top of a low hill in the Southwest section of the camp, not all that far from where their old red tent used to sit.

They’d built their cabin when they came back to Chitaqua eight years ago after helping to set up the research facility. The vaccine was still a year away, but they’d done all they could do and they were ecstatic that after two years of traveling back and forth from camp, gathering doctors, researchers and searching for other psychic kids, (they’d only found two others) and after Y/N had given gallons of her blood to science, they could finally come home for good. 

Not long after returning home, Y/N realized she was pregnant and Dean became obsessed with building them a beautiful home. It was around that time that the camps had all joined together and building homes for everyone became a priority of the camp. 

The builders grew in numbers as they took on apprentices and taught them the trade so that more people in the camp could join in the work. It took almost four years of constant building, but eventually all five hundred plus campers had permanent homes.

Gotta pull the tents out for the Deerling folks, Dean thought as he walked, his mind immediately occupied with figuring out the logistics of where the new campers could stay, and how they could join in the life of the camp, once they were all healthy.

He stopped by Food Storage and spoke with Brandy as Sam had requested. And just as his brother had suspected, when he explained the situation, Brandy was one council member who was very glad he’d made the decision he had. He felt more sure now that the others would feel the same.

As Dean wound his way through camp he got stopped quite a few times, people wanting to talk with him about one concern or another. He generally pointed them in the direction of the person or group in the camp that could help them. But he also got stopped by friends wanting to say hi and talk for a moment or two.

He was happy to talk, but anxious to get home to Y/N.

He looked out towards the large school building where Y/N still taught every day. The new building had been built on the site where the main cabin had been burned down. It was even bigger than the old cabin, with six rooms for the seven teachers that worked there now. 

Y/N was also the principal of the school for all intents and purposes; she and the other teachers taught over two hundred kids from ages five to sixteen. Theresa had finished school and immediately joined the staff as a teacher, working with Y/N every day and loving it. Brandy was so proud.

But Dean wasn’t surprised to see the building empty now, however; he knew it was a day off. He picked up his pace, weaving through the buildings that resided where the old tents had taken up space. 

They’d greatly expanded the food storage, and had an entirely different rations system now that fresh vegetables, fruit, fish and game made up the vast majority of their diet. Brandy was still in charge and was constantly innovating to make things easier and to stretch their food as far as they could in order to feed everyone. 

The former tent area also housed three large storage sheds, a small building that worked as an office/meeting space for whatever group needed to use it, and a small mill where they processed the wheat they grew - that process had included a steep learning curve, but they’d eventually made it work.

There was also a small, open area where a kind of market had popped up organically as the campers traded amongst themselves for things like homemade jewelry, homemade clothes, and other non-essentials.

He walked behind the buildings and began climbing the gently rising path that led to their cabin at the top of the hill. About halfway home he heard loud barking and looked up to see their seven year old Bernese-Husky cross, Clifford, bounding towards him, the way he usually did when any of the family came home. 

“Hey, boy.” Dean said softly, scratching him behind the ears. “Miss me?”

Clifford barked happily in answer and ran ahead and then back to where Dean stood, obviously urging him on towards home. Dean laughed and sped up, chasing after the big dog who sometimes still acted like a puppy.

As the path through the trees ended, opening up into their wide front yard, Dean sighed deeply. “Home sweet home.” He murmured. 

Even though he'd been away less than two days, he was still so happy to be home. He felt the peace that filled him up every time he stepped around the last bend in the path and caught sight of their home in the distance.

The way smoke curled lazily from the chimney and the scent of something delicious wafted through the half open Dutch door, never failed to make him ache to get his arms around his wife and bask in her light. Dean shook his head at his sentimental thoughts, but hurried his pace to get inside. 

As he drew closer however, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he turned his head to see his son walking East, coming out from behind the house. Dean figured he was heading over to his friend Freddie's, and he was about to continue on into the cabin, but then he noticed what his eight-year-old was holding in his hand.

“Gabriel Eric Winchester!” 

Dean's voice bellowed out, freezing the young boy where he stood. Dean strode towards him, anger clear on his face. To the boy's credit, even when he turned and saw his father's anger, he still walked forward slowly, until he was standing directly in front of him. 

The gun he held, however, was tucked just behind his back, as though he was hoping Dean hadn't noticed it. 

Dean held his hand out. “Give that to me this second.”

Gabe's face fell and he brought the gun forward reluctantly, dropping it onto Dean's palm. 

Dean immediately checked to make sure the small, .38 caliber, Smith and Wesson revolver was unloaded and when he saw it was, he held it in his fist, directly in front of Gabe's eyes.

“What the hell do you think you're doing with this?”

His son's eyes were wide and they got watery quickly. 

He shrugged. “I was just gonna bring it to Freddie's. Josh said he could teach us to shoot.” He said, referring to his friend’s older brother. “Just cans on a fence.” He was quick to reassure Dean.

“And did you ask your mother if you could remove a gun from the weapons chest?” Dean asked, already well aware of the answer. 

Gabe shook his head. “No.” He said quietly.

“How did you get it?” Dean asked brusquely.

Gabriel’s voice was still soft as he admitted what he’d done. “I grabbed it yesterday when mom took out a rifle to scare away some raccoons that were trying to get into the compost. Josh said he could teach us if we had guns. So when I saw it last night I just…” He trailed off as he looked up at Dean's face.

“So what you're telling me,” Dean said quietly, “is that while your mother's back was turned you STOLE a gun and planned to use it without asking either of us for permission.”

Gabe's tears spilled down his cheek at his father's disappointed tone and accurate words. He nodded and then sniffed. 

“I'm sorry.” He said thickly. 

Dean crouched down so he could look his son in the eye. “Gabe, a gun is not a toy. I thought you knew this. It's not something to mess around with or use on a whim. It is a weapon. It's incredibly dangerous. If you'd gone off and started shooting, even just at cans, you could have seriously hurt or killed yourself or your friends. Do you understand me?”

Gabe nodded but bit his lip. “But you carry a gun.” He said, pointing to the ever present gun strapped to Dean’s thigh. “And you started using guns when you were even younger than me. I heard you talking about it to mom before. And I…” He sniffled again. “I just wanted to be like you.”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Oh, buddy, I want you to be so much more than me. Your mom and I, we've worked really hard to make things better for you guys, to make the world safer so that when you grow up, hopefully you won’t have to walk around with a gun strapped to you at all times. It’s my job to protect the people in this camp. That’s why I carry a gun, and why I sometimes carry a rifle. But that’s not your job. Your job is to just be a little boy.”

Dean saw Gabriel pout a bit about being called a little boy. He smiled gently and squeezed his son’s shoulders. “Trust me, buddy, you should enjoy being a kid, don’t try to grow up too quickly.”

Gabe nodded begrudgingly and Dean pulled his son in for a hug. After a moment, he pulled back from him and stood up straight again, before nodding towards the cabin. “Go to your room now until supper, and when you come out, you’ll owe your mother an apology for going behind her back. Also, nothing but school and home for a week, do you understand?”

Gabe looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it when Dean gave him a stern look. “Yes, sir.” He said in acceptance and turned to run into the cabin.

“Gabriel!” Dean called. When his son turned back, the tear tracks on his grubby cheeks still visible, Dean spoke quietly but with conviction. “I love you and that’s why I know you can do better.”

Gabe’s face lost some of its forlorn look and he gave Dean a slightly awkward smile, lightly banging his fist against the side of his leg. “Love you too, Dad.” He said quickly before bolting for the house.

Dean shook his head and slipped the gun into his inside jacket pocket. He’d have to have a few more conversations with his son about gun safety and responsibility, but he was confident he could drill the dangers into him.

He walked up the stairs to the front door, more than ready to see Y/N and his girls. When he walked inside, however, he could hear voices coming from behind the kitchen door, and they didn’t sound very happy.

He pushed open the swinging door and saw Y/N and Emma inside. Y/N’s face lit up. “Dean!” She said happily as she saw him and crossed to the door to pull him down for a kiss. 

“Ew.” Emma said.

It was the standard reaction from all of their kids when they kissed in front of them. Emma had a hand over her eyes as Dean finished the kiss and looked over to where she stood by the sideboard that held all their plates, cups and glasses.

“You can look now, kiddo, we’re all finished.” Dean told her with a grin. “For the moment.”

Emma rolled her eyes and made Dean chuckle. Y/N frowned up at him. “Did I hear you yelling at Gabe?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, gotta talk to you about that, but you guys sounded angry when I came in. Anything wrong?”

Y/N looked at Emma and shrugged. “I’ve been telling Emma that she needs to invite her new friend for dinner.”

Dean’s brow wrinkled as he looked at Emma. “You don’t want to bring your friend over for dinner?”

Emma looked at Y/N with frustration, clearly annoyed that she’d told Dean anything. 

Dean tried again. “What’s going on kiddo, since when don’t you want us to meet your friends? Who is it, by the way? Didn’t realize any new kids had started at the school.”

Y/N shook her head. “Jeffrey’s not a new student, he’s just a new…friend.” She said meaningfully. 

Dean caught on and his face immediately dissolved into a scowl. “Oh.” He said without enthusiasm, crossing his arms over his chest.

“See?” Emma barked out, pointing at Dean, but talking to Y/N. “I told you this is how he’d be!!”

“What?” Dean asked defensively. “What are you talking about?”

Emma folded her arms, her posture and scowl mirroring Dean’s. “You get like this every time I bring a boy home, even when he’s absolutely just a friend. You scare the shit out of them!”

“Emma!” Y/N said, reprimanding her for her language..

But Dean just scoffed. “I don’t know what you mean. How do I scare them?”

Emma glared at him. “You interrogate them, Daddy, you know you do.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, if they’re too freaked out to answer a few simple questions then-”

“Simple questions?” Emma interrupted with a humorless laugh. “When I invited Timothy Sutherland over here you forced him to sit down and answer a thousand questions about his family, his background, where he grew up, what his plans were when we finished school. He ran out of here and never looked back.”

Dean threw his arms out. “Do you really wanna date a loser like that anyway? Who can’t even answer a couple questions?”

“Ugh!” Emma stomped her foot and stormed out the back door. 

Silence reigned for a moment when Emma left before Y/N turned towards Dean, giving him a tilted smile. “So, welcome home!” She said in a would-be cheerful voice.. 

Dean sighed as he pulled her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. They enjoyed the simple peace of each other’s embrace for a few minutes before Y/N spoke.

“What happened with Gabe?” She asked.

“He stole a gun and was gonna go shoot cans with Josh and Freddie Young.”

“What?” Y/N shouted, pulling back to look into Dean’s face.

He nodded. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I handled it. He’s in his room till supper and he’s grounded for a week. And I talked to him about how dangerous guns were. I have more conversations planned around the subject for the near future.”

Y/N shook her head before laying it back on Dean’s chest. “Good lord.”

After a couple minutes Y/N pulled away and poured them each a cup of coffee. They settled beside each other at the wooden table and instinctively linked fingers.

Dean took a sip of coffee and sighed. “I don’t really interrogate all her boyfriends, do I?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “Well, she’s never actually had a real boyfriend. And I don’t think that's because boys don’t want to date her. She’s smart and kind, beautiful and well-liked. So…” She shrugged. “It seems probable that the boys who like her are just too intimidated by her father - you know, the legend who fought monsters, Croats, angels, and WON - the soldier that leads the camp, wears a gun, and asks scary questions, all while donning a very good mean-face.”

Dean exhaled loudly, but before he could respond, their youngest child came bouncing into the room. She was just six years old, and looked so much like Emma at that age that it sometimes caught Dean off guard. 

But she was definitely her own little bundle of energy. Having never known hunger or hardship, she was all bright smiles and busy excitement. It seemed as though she’d been born smiling and simply hadn't stopped. Very little bothered her, and she was absolutely spoiled by the entire family, including their found family members in the camp.

Everyone loved Hope.

“Daddy, you’re home!” Hope shouted as she jumped into his lap.

“Oof.” He grunted as she landed hard on some sensitive places. “Hey sweetheart!” He said, slightly out of breath. 

“I missed you. Mommy said you might not come home until tomorrow, but I said that you would come home quick because you like to be home and you don’t like to stay away. Right?”

He nodded, trying to keep up with her racing words. “Yeah, baby, I love to be home.” 

Before his sentence was ended Hope was on to her next thought. “I saw Emmie running out the back door and I tried to talk to her, but she looked mad. She was sitting on the tree swing in the back and I wanted a turn, so I told her to push me, but she just helped me on the swing and then she left to walk through the front yard and leave. And when I tried to follow her, she told me not to leave the yard and to go inside and see you cause you were back. So, I did.” She paused for breath before asking, “Why was Emmie mad?”

Y/N answered. “It’s nothing sweet pea. Why don’t you help me make supper? You can shuck the corn.”

Hope clapped her hands. “Yes, I want to pull all the strings off.” 

Y/N held her daughter’s hand as she hopped off of Dean’s lap, and then leaned forward to kiss Dean slowly. 

“Ew.” Hope said, shielding her eyes as her sister had. 

Y/N smiled against Dean’s lips and whispered to him. “Go talk to your daughter.”

Dean nodded and stood up, bending to kiss Hope’s shiny chestnut curls on the crown of her head. “Hey, promise me something short one.” He said, continuing when she looked up at him. “Promise you’ll take a really long time to grow up, okay?”

She smiled at him, cheeks round and rosy. “Okay, daddy.”

He winked at Y/N who smiled indulgently. “She promises.”

***

Dean instinctively knew where he’d find his oldest child. She coped with stress and frustration the same way he did, the way he’d taught her to. 

He walked through the door of the garage and sure enough, there was Emma, wearing old, blue coveralls that were too big for her, and bent over the hood of the little Chevy hatchback that sat next to the Impala. He knew she heard him come in, but she didn’t say anything, just kept working. 

Dean hopped up on Baby’s hood and waited for her to be ready to talk. Eventually, she caved and looked over at him, her face slightly shuttered and a little hard to read. “Hi.” She said simply.

He smiled at her. “Hey kiddo.” He nodded at the open hood she was under. “How are things looking? Still need a new oil pan?”

Emma shook her head. “No, I replaced that last week. Risa found me one in the back of the storage shed.”

“Good.” Dean said. They were both quiet as Emma leaned back in and continued working. 

After a moment she cleared her throat. “Looks like I’m gonna need new brake pads though. Think we could go to Lowry’s and see what he’s got.” She asked, referring to a guy in Brisbane who collected car parts and often traded with them.

“Sure. I’ll be busy for the next day or so. But we can go after that. One day after school?” He asked.

Emma nodded and stood up, wiping her hands on the rag she had stuffed in her pocket. She was quiet as she slammed the hood closed and then stepped out of the coveralls and hung them up on the hook beside the door.

She wandered over to Baby and hoisted herself up beside Dean on the hood. After a moment she leaned her head onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Dad. I’m glad you’re home.”

Dean lifted his arm so she could snuggle closer, and then wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, squeezing her into his side.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, baby. Apparently I’ve been unconsciously scaring away the tons of boys who would otherwise be beating down our door. Though, if I’m being completely truthful, it probably wasn’t entirely unconscious. Cause I just know not a one of them is gonna be good enough for you.”

Emma chuckled. “I don’t think it’s tons of boys, Daddy. And I’m not interested in a bunch of boys. I’m interested in Jeffery. And I really do want you to meet him. I think if you give him a chance you’d like him. He’s really sweet and funny and just…” She sighed. “I just like him.”

Dean squeezed her again and felt his chest constrict with love and bittersweet memories, remembering how she used to crawl into his lap and let him read her to sleep. Those days were long gone, but she was still that little girl to him and she probably always would be. But he knew she was growing up and he needed to loosen his grip, at least a little.

So he sighed now and nodded. “Okay, kiddo. If you like him, I’m sure I’ll like him too. So, invite him over for dinner one evening and I swear to keep my questions to a minimum and be perfectly cordial.”

Emma laughed. “I don’t know if cordial is ever a word I’d use to describe you, Dad. Let’s just try to leave out the death stares.”

***

That evening after dinner, it was Gabe and Hope’s turn to do dishes. Gabriel washed and Hope dried with some assistance from Dean. As they were finishing up, Keisha and Julianne showed up on their doorstep asking if Emma was free to go for a walk around camp.

Y/N nodded when Emma looked to her for permission. “That’s fine. Be home before dark. Oh, here.” She said to the twins, grabbing a bag and passing it to them. “Take these home to your mom, it's the dress patterns she loaned me.”

Keisha went to take it, but Y/N pulled it back. “On second thought, nevermind. I’ll bring it to her tomorrow afternoon. Gives me a reason to visit and gossip.”

The girls all laughed and then waved as they headed out the door. Dean had to smile as they walked away, their high pitched voices and giggles floating back to them on a breeze. Some things hadn’t changed and he was grateful. 

Gabe went to his room to read, since he was housebound for the next while. Hope played with some well loved and worn out dolls for a little bit before they took her to her room and put her to bed. They tucked Gabe in not long after, and then took their coffee cups out onto their little front porch and sat in one of the big Adirondack chairs that Dean and Sam had built three years ago.

Y/N settled happily into Dean’s lap, her hands cupped around her warm mug. The late spring air was soft and warm, and the sounds of the camp drifted up the hill towards them. They listened contentedly for a little while as Clifford came out of the house and flopped down on Dean’s feet. 

They talked about the kids and they talked about the Deerling camp; they talked about Sam, and Y/N admonished Dean for teasing him about Eileen. 

“Be nice.” She scolded. “I hope he will bring her to dinner. If he likes her, I mean.”

They talked about anything and everything, and as the sun began to set, Emma came up the path and smiled as she saw her parents cuddled together in one chair. As much as she rolled her eyes and hid her face when they started getting kissy, she loved how much they loved each other. And she knew she’d never settle for anything less than what they had together. 

She told them goodnight and went inside, Clifford rising slowly to follow her and sleep at the end of her bed as he did every night.

Soon the fireflies were buzzing loudly and the camp was getting quiet, so Dean stood up with Y/N still in his arms, leaving their coffee cups to sit on the porch until morning. She laughed as her husband carried her effortlessly into their bedroom.

He set her on her feet and locked the door before he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her to him, crushing her lips beneath his own. Y/N moaned softly and immediately pulled off his flannel shirt and yanked his t-shirt over his head so she could spread her hands across the wide expanse of his still beautifully muscled torso. 

“God I missed you.” She breathed, even though it had only been one night. “I hate when you go away.”

He smiled against her skin as he stripped her down to her bra and panties. “Missed you too, sweetheart. Promise not to go anywhere ever again.”

Y/N laughed at his impossible promise as he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He continued kissing her as he crossed the room and lowered her to the bed. She wouldn’t let go of him and pulled him down on top of her. 

Dean chuckled at her hold on him and then mouthed his way down her body, licking and nipping at her skin. Ten years later she still had the ability to make him instantly hard and aching for her.

They spent most of the night making up for the one they’d been apart. In the darkest part of the night they found light and life in each other’s arms and fell asleep knowing tomorrow would dawn bright and busy - filled with responsibilities, joy, love and most of all…

…hope.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #endverse!dean fan fic series #endverse

[irisintheafterglow]

what if all i need is you? (college bsf!suguru x you)

summary: after failed attempts to find a date to a relative's birthday party, your best friend acts as your fake boyfriend.

wc: 2.8k

cw/tags: fake dating, best friends to lovers, first kiss, implied fem!reader but no specific pronouns used (wears makeup and heels), swearing, mentions of drinking and smoking, reader is kinda mean at the beginning but they're just stressed, satoru being satoru

note: back on my suguru bullshit! hope you enjoy :))

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <33

“You remember the plan?”

“Yep, I had it down the third and fourth times you repeated it.” You send him a glare out of the corner of your vision, carefully pulling the mascara wand up across your lashes. The dim car lights weren’t the ideal environment to finish getting ready, but whatever time you could waste out here was time you didn’t have to spend at the party. 

“It’s all there. $250, like we agreed,” you say without looking at him as he flips through the stack of money from the yellow package hiding in the glove compartment. “I’m not giving you more, so don’t ask.”

“Wasn’t going to,” he reassures you, watching as you tensely tap fine glitter onto the inner corners of your eyes and spread it over your cheekbones. He inhales and you already anticipate what he was going to say. “You know, I really shouldn’t be taking your money–”

“I don’t care that you don’t want the money, Suguru. It makes me feel better, so please, shut up and take it,” you state for what felt like the tenth time. He sighs in defeat, eyeing you like you were a tiger pacing around a cramped cage in a zoo. Having your best friend go with you as your fake date to a relative’s birthday party both complicated and simplified things at the same time, which made you all the more tense for what might happen. 

Date me for a month and earn $250! No commitment, no long-term relationships! Call me at (XXX) XXX-XXX for more info! is what the flyers that you stuck to the bulletin boards around campus proclaimed. It was a last-ditch effort to find a date to your grandmother’s cousin’s birthday party and a direct result of your family being too curious about your dating life in college. The plan was simple, in your head. You would find a random person to pretend to date for a month, bring them to the party, and then break up with them a week later. No harm done and no questions asked, right?  

“Any takers on that dating flyer yet?” 

“No,” you groan, letting your forehead hit the desk with a dull thud. It was harder than you thought it would be to find someone to act as your fake boyfriend. “All they want is sex or to negotiate a higher pay. They think I’m a hooker or a trust fund baby, I guess.”

“I can confirm that you are neither of those things,” he chuckles from the other side of the line. “Unless, you have some news to tell me.” You snort and shake your head, taking notice of the darkness outside your window. It must have been hours since you first started your phone call with Suguru and forced him to help you through a homework assignment, and the rumbling in your stomach was becoming a little more insistent. 

“Shit. It’s late, so I’ll let you go. Sorry for keeping you for so long.” You start to tidy the various study sheets and highlighters scattered across your desk, carefully straightening the polaroid of you, Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko on the day of your high school graduation. “Thanks for helping me, even though I’m gonna forget all of this in a few hours.”

“I don’t mind teaching you again. Have you eaten yet? Because I’m starving.” The rumbling in your stomach becomes more of a growl at the mere mention of food and you silently curse him for reminding you that all you had in the cupboard was instant noodles. “If you say no and then proceed to make those sodium bombs you call food, I’m gonna hit you with an inflatable mallet.”

“Okay,” you reply. “Then, I won’t tell you.”

“Smartass,” he mutters and you hear the clinking of his car keys being grabbed from off the hook above his desk. “I’ll be there in ten. Grab a jacket; it’s chilly out.” Twenty minutes later, you’re bundled up in a hole-in-the-wall ramen shop near campus, barely able to eat from sheer anxiety. It was a shitty situation you’d found yourself in and the only way to get through it unscathed would be to disappear off the face of the planet. Your best friend seems to notice you poke at your noodles with your chopsticks and sets down his pair with a determined look. “Alright, what’s bothering you?” You shrug and avoid his eyes, leaning back into the dark corner of the booth. 

“Nothing,” you mumble and he raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m just stressed about this stupid party thing.”

“Remind me why you need a date for this in the first place?”

“My grandma’s cousin is super old. Like, one foot in the grave old,” you state plainly and some water shoots out of Suguru’s nose as he tries to cover a laugh. “I’m serious! I’ve never known her and, from what I can gather, no one really likes her anyways.” You hand him a clean napkin with a small, amused smile while he continues to cough uncontrollably, humming at the small thank you he manages to choke out. “But, my family wants me to at least act like I have a boyfriend for the night so she can have peace of mind.” You give him a knowing look and it takes him a few seconds to put the pieces together.

“Wait, your family wants you to pretend to have a boyfriend so your grandma’s cousin can die at peace?” You nod slowly and his face contorts into something like horror and shock, unsure of whether to laugh or feel sorry for you. “Shit. Sorry, I mean–”

“No, it’s okay,” you giggle. “You can laugh. It’s fucking ridiculous. To be fair, they just told me to find a boyfriend. They didn’t specify how long we had to be together.”

“And that’s why you put the flyers up,” he concludes, “to hire someone to play your boyfriend for the night.” You nod again and he shakes his head. “You’re out of your mind.” Your jaw drops in indignance and you threaten to drop an ice cube in his ramen in retaliation.

“I think it’s a pretty smart idea,” you argue.

“What if the guy catches feelings?”

“Sucks for him. I’m not paying him to fall in love with me,” you reply bluntly and Suguru shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Is what I’m doing wrong? I’m only seeing it as a business transaction, plain and simple.”

“A business transaction that hasn’t actually transacted yet, and the party is when?” You feel your face start to heat in embarrassment. He made a good point.

“Tomorrow,” you mumble. “The party’s tomorrow night.” 

“See? There’s no way you’re gonna find someone good enough in time.” 

“Well, what do you propose I do? Skip it entirely and kill the old lady early?”

“That’s definitely not what I was suggesting,” he corrects. “What if you just…took me instead?” You freeze, a little shocked by his idea. It was true that a certain amount of attraction existed in you towards your best friend, something that you swore never to act on for fear of losing his friendship. You never bothered asking if he felt the same because you knew him too well; you knew how he was around girls he liked, even though the last one was when you both were in high school. Sure, it was possible that he started liking you once you started college, just like you noticed him in a different light during your first semester. But either way, you were resigned to letting the feelings come and go as they usually did. Except, the feelings hadn’t left for three years. “Are you silent because you’re mortified or silent because you’re thinking it over?”

“A little bit of both,” you admit.

“How so?”

“You do know my family has been wanting us to get together for years now, right?” An unreadable look passes over Suguru’s face, a look that you can’t decipher even after knowing him for so long. 

“I’m well aware. Your parents have pulled me aside several times trying to pass along family heirlooms to use when I inevitably get on one knee.” Your eye twitches and you make a mental reminder to scold your family when you see them next. “But why is that an issue?” Truthfully, it wasn’t that much of an issue if you set aside your own feelings. Having Suguru there meant that he already knew the dynamics of your family, how to handle your relatives, and had a general grasp of what to expect at the party. It simplified things, but your own harbored feelings complicated any thought of acting like a couple. It would feel too real and you knew how much it would hurt when the clock struck midnight and you went back to being friends. That’s a little too much to unpack over ramen, though. 

“I just don’t want them making you uncomfortable,” is what you settle with telling him. Something like disappointment blinks across his face, but disappears just as fast as it comes. It’s replaced with a wry smile, one that makes your head fuzzy and stomach bubbly. 

“They won’t. My only focus is you,” he promises before launching into a new conversation about his latest biochem project. Now, ten minutes after your heels crossed the threshold of the front door, Suguru was doing a little too good of a job of only focusing on you. Even though the music of the venue blares and there’s enough family and friends to stampede you like poor Mufasa in the Lion King, Suguru doesn’t seem to care about any of it. He falls into his role as your ‘boyfriend’ as easily as the last piece of a puzzle being maneuvered into place, holding your hand with a steady grip, then snaking it around your waist, and sending you fond smiles when nobody's watching. Your parents are delighted, to say the least, and drag him away from you at the first available moment. You settle in a corner of the ballroom with a small plate of pickings from the dessert table and wait for him to return from his interrogation with your parents. 

“It’s about time you two got together,” a familiar, sing-songy voice says quietly from over your shoulder and you flinch, instinct telling you to stab him with your ornate plastic fork. You turn and find your other best friend wearing a tie and a shit-eating grin, tucking a silver hors d'oeuvres tray under a lanky arm.

“Satoru! What the fuck are you doing here?” You glance around to see if anyone has noticed you recognizing a random waiter and, thankfully, everyone is too engrossed in gossiping about your fake boyfriend for the night.

“I’m Suguru’s backup just in case things go south,” he drawls and you pinch the bridge of your nose with two fingers. “Here to cause a scene if something goes wrong.”

“You’re here to sabotage my relative’s birthday party?”

“Here to potentially sabotage your relative’s birthday party.” He sticks up his index finger in emphasis and you groan, rolling your eyes and popping another small brownie into your mouth. He copies you, plucking a cupcake from your plate and swallowing it in one bite. “I gotta say, it took you long enough. I’ve been in agony watching this entire thing pan out.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you high?”

“Not right now, no, but maybe later.” He shoots you a grin even though you know full and well none of you smoke. “I’m just saying that I’m happy you’ve finally realized your feelings for each other.” 

“What feelings? There’s no feelings,” you lie straight through your teeth and he sees through it like glass. 

“I may be stupid, but I’m not blind. If you don’t see that Suguru likes you back, then you’re the one with vision problems. Sucks for you.” He shrugs and you flick his arm lightly, glaring daggers at him but unable to fight down the curiosity poking at the back of your mind. 

“You think he actually likes me back?”

“He’s liked you since senior year, idiot,” he scoffs like your question was a funny joke. “I’m not here to fill in if he gets food poisoning from the questionable shrimp cocktail; I’m here to support either of you if your feelings get in the way and your dumbasses can’t communicate efficiently.” 

“That’s…really thoughtful of you, Satoru,” you mutter and he raises one eyebrow teasingly. 

“Wasn’t my idea. It was Suguru’s. ‘In case something happens and they’re not comfortable with me taking them home, for whatever reason.’ That’s what he made me promise and why I’m pretending to be a waiter for the night.” His attention darts upward to his best friend approaching your table and he pats your shoulder encouragingly. “Speaking of. Go get your man.”

“I hate you, Satoru.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.” He knocks his shoulder against yours before disappearing into the kitchen, on his way to probably steal a bottle from the wine cellar. 

“Uh oh, looks like you’ve found my undercover operative,” he jokes as he sets a drink in front of you and steals a cookie from your plate. 

“Actually, he’s the one who found me. You should fire that guy for blowing his own cover,” you remark and the corner of Suguru’s mouth turns up into a smirk. “It’s nice of you to ask him to be here in case something went wrong.”

“I’m an engineering major. We plan for the worst case scenarios.”

“What’s the best case scenario?” His eyebrows furrow in question but you don’t relent. No turning back now. “What’s the ideal outcome of this situation, besides the money?” He thinks for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek when a slow song starts playing through the loudspeakers. 

“Dance with me,” he replies, holding out his hand for you to take. Way to change the subject. “Please?”

“You’re not getting out of my question.” You let him lead you to the dance floor, trying not to get goosebumps as one of his hands finds your waist and the other laces his fingers with yours. “Why’d you offer to do this with me, anyway?”

“What, dancing? Or coming with you to the party?”

“Second one.” That unreadable look crosses his face again, the same one from the ramen shop when he first brought up being your fake date. It felt like anything he said was just covering up a truth that you both were dancing around; but, something in the air made you want to face that truth tonight.

“Because I’m your friend,” he murmurs and you can’t help feeling a little let down by his answer. You let it show in your face, but he’s avoiding your eyes. “That’s what friends do for each other.” He clears his throat and tries to blow a stray strand of black hair from his face, going deathly still when your own fingers brush it away and tuck it behind his ear.

“We’re just friends?”

“What do you–”

“What if I wanna be more?” His eyes finally snap to meet yours and his pupils are blown wider than you’d ever seen before, deep and dark and staring at you so intensely, you’re glad he’s supporting your waist. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his gaze flicking up and down between your eyes and your lips. 

“I don’t wanna mess this up,” he whispers so quietly that you wouldn’t hear it if you weren’t inches away from his face. “I don’t wanna mess up what we have.”

“I don’t think we would be messing it up,” you point out just as softly. “If anything, we’d be making it better.” His thumb comes up to trace the outline of your jaw, sending chills up your spine.

“Are you sure that you want this with me?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“I don’t know, because I feel like I don’t deserve you and–”

“Okay, stop talking,” is the last thing you say before you tilt your head up to press your lips against his. You’re careful and frustratingly gentle, giving him ample opportunity to pull away and reject you. But, to your delight, he kisses back with more fervor than you, like he’d been waiting for years to experience this feeling. He sighs into your mouth as you grab the collar of his button up and pull him even closer, his hands holding firm at your waist until you pull away to breathe. 

“Make sure you take down those flyers once we’re back on campus,” he breathes into your ear. You let your eyes flutter shut and hum in assent, leaning your head against his. 

“Why do you bring them up?”

“Because your fake boyfriend just got promoted to real boyfriend.” You initially dismiss the single click and bright flash as the photo booth serving its clients, but are also equally unsurprised when Suguru meets you outside your 9:00 A.M with a Polaroid between his fingers of you two dancing at the party. And the caption?

First kiss! (Taken by Gojo Satoru, ultimate wingman)

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#suguru x you #suguru x reader #suguru x y/n #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff

[ceilidho]

prompt: im also thinking of a very bad fic where ghost is taken pow for awhile and it fucks him up and he’s forced to see a therapist when he’s rescued but he’d rather use her p[] as therapy instead. tags: nsfw, implied/not described violence, slight dubcon, unprofessional relationship lol

-

It isn’t serendipitous that you meet; it comes because of a lot of bad luck and malevolence. 

He’s captured during a routine surveillance mission and spends three months as a POW in some shed in the Ural mountains. He comes back different. That’s to be expected. Trauma is an insidious thing that takes root under the skin, that twists and turns even in the dead of night. It’s a tunnel that gets tighter as you walk through it. It would be concerning if he didn’t come back that way. 

You know far too many gory details to ever feel truly comfortable around him. Not because of anything he’s done but because you can’t help the way the narrative builds in your mind when you look across the room at him. Even sitting on the prim and proper little sectional in your office, his body too big for the cozy little couch you picked up from some upscale boutique with your government paycheck, you can’t help but mythologize him. 

The official story is that four men were found dead when Simon Riley was finally extracted from the shed-turned-torture-room six months ago due to a bacterial infection that, luckily, Simon was not exposed to. The story’s flimsy even to your untrained ears; you may not have gone to medical school, but it just seems too perfect, too impeccable. When you push your superior for the truth, the look you get and the quiet “leave it alone” tells you far more than your paygrade deserves. 

Even knowing what you know, he shows up day one with the skull balaclava like some bone fortress that tells you before you even try, I am unknowable. You can try to cut me up and look inside, but this is all you’ll find—bone and bone and more bone.

He’s remarkably resistant to therapy, which is also to be expected; you aren’t at the stage in your career where you’re surprised that a man entrenched in the machinery of militarism won’t acquiesce to talk therapy. 

There’s a point where you want to try a new tactic, something to get to the root of what he’s hiding from you. So, you poke at it. You ask him to give you a five-minute account of the traumatic event, something that took place in the shed. 

“Which of those events do you dislike thinking about the most?” Your pen is poised over the pad in your lap. 

He raises a brow so high up that it disappears behind the mask. “How could I pick just one?”

His voice rumbles like tires over gravel. Sometimes your leg jitters when he speaks and it’s not your fault. You shut it down though because this is not a legend in front of you but a man, and you are in this room with him for a very specific purpose that does not include finding the sound of his voice attractive. 

You ask him again: “Which comes to mind first?”

Simon doesn’t answer you, but there’s a flash like quicksilver across his eyes and you catch it not because you’re looking but because he lets you. 

He shifts forward in his chair so that his elbows are propped on his knees and he’s leaning forward, closer to you than you’re comfortable with. You didn’t think to put a coffee table between the two of you. With other vets and active personnel, it’s easier without the sense of distance; makes them feel closer to you, vulnerable because it’s just skin, oxygen, and skin. 

With Simon, you get the sense that distance might be better. 

“What comes to mind first is that it was dark and I could smell the blood. I could taste it. But I couldn’t see it.” He doesn’t blink for as long as he speaks. You try not to let your breath shorten; you feel hungry for his truth the way a wolf hungers for the moon. “And it was dark and I could smell it; it was in my throat because I knew it was the only way out of there. I realized in that room that there is no righteous path but the one you take.”

Simon leans so far forward that his body glides up to stand and the pencil trembles in your hand when he takes a step close. He’s bigger looming over you, all brawn in the way military men often are, but sleek in his movements. You think of snakes or panthers. 

He breathes in. “You smell good though, love. Do you think we could start there instead?”

You open your mouth to reply, maybe even tell him to sit down so you can approach the question from a different angle, but then he’s on you, quick as he must have been that night. One big callused hand over your mouth and one knee on the couch, his other hand reaching up to pull the mask below his nose. You feel the warm press of it into the side of your neck and try not to struggle.

His breath shudders across your skin. You shake because you feel all the bone hidden beneath his frame now.

Simon’s hand is rough when it slides up your shirt. Pretty pearl buttons go flying; one rolls under the prim and proper couch. You only struggle for the first couple of seconds before professionalism melts away like a fine mist. Like you can do anything but look at him like a revelation. You stare at the pearl beneath the couch when he fucks you, legs split around his waist and you know it’s going to hurt in the morning. 

“If I’d known that you were waiting for me while I was in there,” he breathes, sonorous and rich, mask rolled up over lips bisected by a puckered scar, “I would have torn out their throats much more eagerly.”

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod simon riley #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost/reader #ghost cod #ceil writing #cod modern warfare

[valeskafics]

"Home & Heart" - Cregan Stark x Reader

A/N: i'm so sorry aemond i still love you lmfao

Summary: An unexpected surprise awaits you at the tourney celebrating your and your brother's nameday.

TW: profanity, innuendo

Word Count: 1,907 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

HOTD Taglist (BOLD means it did not allow me to tag you): @jamespotterismydaddy @ietss @michaelcliffordbrokeintomyhouse @daenerysapologist @hopelesswritergall

When you were born to King Viserys and Queen Alicent, the realm rejoiced, for you and your brother, Prince Aemond, were twins. It was widely celebrated, the birth of the twin dragons. As you grew older, your mother often found that of your siblings, it was you she could seek comfort in. Aegon was a drunk, Helaena’s head was always in the clouds, and Aemond was always busy either trying to claim a dragon, compensating for not having one, or after the events on Driftmark, riding Vhagar. Of course, Daeron, your younger brother, is also a delight to be around, but after he left for Oldtown, it was you, her baby girl, who became her pride and joy.

And so of course when the time came, she betrothed you to your twin brother, despite your protests.

“It’s a sign from the gods,” she would smile and say, “The two of you came into this world together, sweetling.”

Your mother does this simply out of the desire to protect you and always keep you by her side. Aemond may not be an ideal husband, she realizes, but family is everything to him and she knows he will never mistreat you. And he seems to love you in his own way.

Everything is going according to plan, as far as she’s concerned.

However, she didn’t account for one very specific variable.

The Wolf of Winterfell, Lord Cregan Stark.

King’s Landing is a cacophony of merchants yelling, Silk Street ladies soliciting, and practically everyone else just bustling in excitement as the tourney in honor of your and Aemond’s eighteenth nameday approaches. This is because, just a fortnight after your nameday, the two of you are to be wed. The prospect of both a tourney and a royal wedding leaves the smallfolk quite excited.

When the tourney begins, you take a seat in the royal box, between your mother and sister. Aemond, despite insisting “he doesn’t give a shit about tourneys”, states that it would be dishonorable of him not to compete in one in honor of the two of you. You worry for your brother, of course. He is a skilled swordsman, but a tourney knight is a different breed entirely.

And then, you see him, the Wolf in the North.

He’s exceedingly handsome, you note. A strong jaw with a well-trimmed beard, the typical gray Stark eyes that seem to pierce through your entire being, and dark brown hair that frames his face. He’s tall, it’s obvious even from where you sit, and broad-shouldered. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man this beautiful in your entire life. You lean forward in your seat, hoping to get a better look at him, as does Helaena.

“What are you girls looking at?” Aegon questions, before noticing where your gaze lies and laughing, “Oh, you two should be acting more ladylike, should you not?”

You ignore Aegon and whisper to Helaena, “Have you ever seen such a gorgeous man in your entire life, Hel?”

She shakes her head, “No, little sister, I must say I have not.”

Aegon shakes his head at what he considers to be his two idiot sisters swooning over a Northern brute.

You and Cregan Stark lock eyes as the knights begin riding to ask for the favors of the courtly ladies. You know that propriety dictates that you should be giving your favor to your twin, your betrothed. It’s not your fault that the honorable Lord Stark beats him to the punch.

“My lady.”

You think you may have forgotten how to breathe. His voice is a low rumble, with a thick Northern accent. You’ve heard the most famous minstrels and bards play, being a princess. You’ve heard the sound of the bells of the sept at a wedding. But nothing compares to this man’s voice.

“My name is Cregan Stark and I wish to ask for your favor.”

He gazes up at you, his mouth set in a determined line. You heard Starks are all serious, no-nonsense people, but you can’t help but notice the playfulness in his eyes. He knows he’s about to cause a scandal by asking you, one of the honorees of this tourney and a lady betrothed, for your favor.

Before your mother can say a thing, you’re picking up your wreath and walking over to the Northerner, the most dazzling smile you can give adorning your face.

“I am Princess Y/N Targaryen, Lord Stark. I am honored to give you my favor,” you lean forward and place the wreath on his lance, “Tell me, my lord, are all Northerners as handsome as you? If so, I might have to plan on visiting.”

Cregan lets out a hearty laugh at your blatant flirting, “I should like to think I’m on the more handsome side, my princess, but I would not object to your visiting Winterfell. I’d be happy to host you,” his last words are said quietly enough so that only the two of you can hear, “Perhaps you may plan on a long stay.”

You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, “I wish you good fortune in the tourney, Lord Stark.”

“I don’t need luck, I have my lady’s favor,” he grins, getting ready to ride off, “The Old Gods and the New have smiled upon me this day.”

You watch him as he joins the other knights. You can feel your mother’s eyes boring holes into the back of your head as you continue gazing at him, not even noticing when Aemond approaches to ask for your favor. Helaena quickly gives him hers. He looks at you oddly, not realizing what is happening.

Aegon leans over Helaena and smirks at you, “Well, little sister, I don't think you’ve ever been more like your big brother than you were today. A very happy nameday to you indeed.”

You have to hold back a snort of laughter, knowing it will only dig you into a deeper hole with your mother. Before she can say anything, you turn to her and squeeze her hand.

“Mama, don’t worry. I was only being polite. It’s a tourney, after all. Didn’t you give your favor to Prince Daemon at a tourney once?”

Your mother presses her lips into a thin line. She hates the fact that you’ve made a decent point.

As the tourney goes on, you find yourself truly interested in one competitor, the object of your affections, Cregan Stark. He fights honorably, you note, but also with great ferocity. The Wolf in the North is an apt name for him, you think.

In the end, the final match up is between him and your twin. You don’t know how much more awkward this can get for you as you watch them fight, forcing yourself to cheer for your twin. Aemond is a great fighter, that is sure, but he is no Cregan Stark. The man is a force of nature, you muse as he knocks your brother from his mount.

Good. Your twin deserved to be humbled.

As Aemond stands up, removing his helm, Cregan has already been handed the flower crown to decide who will be his Queen of Love and Beauty.

You think your mother might just have a heart attack when he rides directly to you, placing the crown in your lap. You give him what you think to be a sweet smile and thank him. He gives you a warm grin of his own.

But the two of you exchanged so much more than pleasantries in that moment. When your eyes meet, it’s like you cannot bear to tear your gaze from his. And that evening, when the feasting begins? You can’t help but search for him in the crowd.

After dancing a few times with your brothers - enduring Aemond’s cold shoulder for not giving him your favor - Cregan comes up to ask for a dance.

He isn’t the most graceful dancer and he is more than happy to allow you to lead him through the steps. Standing this close to him is both terrifying and exhilarating. The two of you can’t seem to stop looking at each other throughout the lively dance. You try to use the excuse of overexertion when you return to your family, but Helaena merely giggles at the sight of your flushed cheeks.

Before the feast ends, Cregan asks if you wouldn’t mind showing him the gardens and that he has heard the Red Keep’s gardens are magnificent. You raise an eyebrow at him while he simply gives you a boyish grin. You take his arm and lead him out to the gardens.

You stay out there for hours, walking under the light of the full moon. He’s even more beautiful in the moonlight, you think to yourself.

“Thank you, Princess.”

You gasp, “Did I say that out loud?”

Cregan chuckles, taking a seat on a bench, pulling you down to sit with him, “My princess, there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I found your honesty to be quite endearing.”

“That’s not something you’ll hear around these parts very often,” you sigh, thinking of all the times you’ve been scolded by Aemond or your grandfather for being too honest.

“Well then,” Cregan says softly, taking your hands in his and raising them to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Perhaps you out to seek out a place where your honesty is appreciated.”

“Such as Winterfell?” you tease, nudging him playfully.

“Such as Winterfell,” he affirms, chuckling before meeting your gaze, “My home is yours,” he pauses before taking your hand and pressing it to his chest, whispering, “As is my heart.”

You can’t help the idiotic grin that spreads across your face at his words, “I must admit you’ve stolen my heart as well, Lord Stark, and I’m not quite sure I want it back.”

He grins, leaning in toward you, “And I have absolutely no intention of giving it back.”

Cregan presses his lips to yours. It’s clear that neither of you have a lot of experience in being this intimate with another person, but the kiss is sweet, and full of love. When he pulls away, you smile and pull him back in for another kiss, making him burst into full-blown laughter.

“My princess is insatiable,” he chuckles between kisses before his tone becomes morose and thoughtful, “I suppose this will all be over in a fortnight. When you get married.”

“I suppose,” you say quietly, sadly.

“Perhaps there’s another option.”

The two of you say your sacred vows beneath the heart tree in the small King’s Landing godswood.

“I am hers and she is mine,” Cregan smiles, holding your face in his hands.

“I am his and he is mine,” you echo, gazing up at him, resting your hands on top of his.

“From this day until the end of my days.”

Cregan takes you far from the political mess of the capitol, to his home in Winterfell. You know your family must be furious about this whole thing, but you cannot bring yourself to care. You adore your husband, and he adores you. The two of you are ridiculously in love, and it’s plain for anyone to see.

Years later, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen crowns Lady Lyanna Stark his Queen of Love and Beauty, despite her being betrothed, he is inspired by the story of The Wolf in the North and his Dragoness.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #hotd #hotd fic #hotd x reader #cregan stark #cregan #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan x you #cregan stark x you #cregan x y/n #cregan stark x y/n #my writing #cregan oneshot #targaryen!reader

[thefallennightmare]

One Night: Noah's POV-two

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: lots of smut(mask play, spit play, bondage, anal, fingering, oral(m/f receiving), choking, unprotected sex), swearing, angst, fluff.

Summary: Noah's POV of his one night with Reader.

Authors Note: As previously mentioned, this is basically the same storyline as before just in Noah's POV! As of right now, it'll will be in three parts but might change.

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @malice-ov-mercy @thebadchic @niicoleleigh @lma1986 @dsireland86 @bellaboo967 @cookiesupplier @whenthesummerdies @bngurngheart @laurpartyprogram @thisbicc @lyinginbetween @princessmarshmallowx @loeytuan98 @cncohshit @lacktoesandtoddlerants @notingridslurkaccount @calleyx13 @jessiskyee @mrscevans @spicywhenspeaking @myownthoughts12

I leaned back into the couch with my arm across the back, my fingers so close to Y/N’s shoulder. I could feel the heat radiating off of her and I could still taste her on my lips and tongue. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Y/N ran her hands over her thighs; one, two, three, four times. Every time.

A long sigh left my lips as I turned towards her, face giving away nothing of what happened between us.

“What?” Y/N asked as her eyes landed on my face.

“Why are you nervous?” I asked while nodding towards her hands.

“I wonder why,” She muttered before turning her attention back towards Britt.

Deciding not to press her more, I heeded Jolly’s direction about us getting ready since we were minutes away from our set starting. As I stood, my fingers crazed over the back of Y/N’s neck, her shivering under my touch. Just as I slipped into my jacket, Britt’s voice echoed in the room and I raised a confused brow towards the two girls who were having a hushed conversation on the couch. Y/N’s eyes flashed up to me before giving me her back.

Once dressed in all of my stage gear, I noticed Y/N standing off towards the corner of the room, away from curious ears and eyes, so I stalked up behind her breathing down her neck. She slowly turned on her heels and gazed up through me through lashes, her breath hitching as she caught sight of me in my mask. I analyzed the way she shifted on her feet and her tongue darted out to wet her lips before pulling them between her teeth.

My cock twitched as I let out a low cough. “So, did you think more of my idea?”

“Um, kind of,” Y/N took a small step back to give us more space. “I still have a few questions.”

I raised a brow. “Which are?”

She licked her lips again, and I wanted to drag my own teeth across them.

“Where would we do this? Just because I’m considering spending the night with you, doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with you in my apartment.”

“We’re staying in a hotel tonight.” I let out a soft chuckle. “We can spend it in my room.”

Y/N’s eyes dragged up every inch of me, lingering on my face for a few seconds too long.

“Do you like the mask, Y/N?” I questioned while cocking my head.

My voice came out low, full with desire, as I drank in the sight of her when she nodded, lip still caught between her teeth.

I leaned forward, my warm breath brushing over her ear. “I could wear it tonight, if you’re a good girl.”

A soft moan fell from her lips which made my eyes darken. Our gazes locked and the longer we watched on another, the thicker the sexual tension built between us.

“What’s your next question?” I asked while towering over her now, staring down at her small form; like prey stalking its next victim.

Y/N blinked while stuttering. “Uh-Is there anything off limits tonight?”

“You’ll have to be more specific, angel.”

I noticed the black choker around her neck and my cock pressed against the confines of my briefs when I hooked my finger around it. Y/N’s face was red as she cast her eyes down at her feet, her face so quiet I had to strain my ears to hear her.

“I’m into some things that others might think is weird; with sex.”

A low noise rumbled deep in my chest, the thought sending an electric shock throughout my body, With past partners, I could never express my secret desires because they were too afraid. But it seemed with Y/N, she was ready to give in to me.

“You’re not the only one,” I admitted.

A blush covered her face, and I marveled how cute she looked, the dark thoughts I had of her tied to the bed being forgotten for a few seconds.

“If I feel uncomfortable or want to stop, would you?” She asked.

“The second you ask me to, I will,” I answered without missing a beat. “Would it make you feel better if we had a safe word?”

Y/N raised a brow as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “How far are we going to go that we need a safe word?”

I sighed, tired of being too far from her and my arms around her back to pull her into my chest. I noticed how fast she was breathing as she avoided my gaze, peering over my shoulder to see if there was anyone with us.

“Angel,” I gripped her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “I keep thinking about all the things I get to do to you tonight if you say yes.”

She whimpered, eyes fluttering shut.

It was true. From the second she walked into the room, Y/N took my breath away. Even though she was quiet at first, clearly feeling out of place, she began to slowly break out of her shell. There was this aura encased around her that continued to pull me in; needing more of her.

“What would the safe word be?”

Her wavering voice broke me out of my thoughts, and I gently squeezed her hips. “Mercy.”

“Okay,” Y/N eventually agreed with a slow nod.

But before I could bask in the excitement of tonight, she spoke again. “One last question. Well, more of an agreement.”

I urged her on with a nod.

“Can we agree no feelings are to come out of this tonight? I just got out of a long relationship, the last thing I need is another one, especially with someone who is on the road a lot.”

My stomach dropped, but I did my best to hide my feelings underneath the mask.

“I’m not going to force you into anything, Y/N,” I reassured me.

“Okay.”

Y/N sprawled her hands over my chest and I knew she could feel how fast my heart was beating underneath her touch.

I was still in his embrace and sprawled my hands over his chest. His heart beat rapidly underneath my touch.

“Is that a yes?” I wondered, almost bouncing on my heels with anticipation.

Before she could answer, Jolly knocked as he entered the room, guitar strapped around him.

“You ready?” He directed towards me.

My eyes darted from Y/N to Jolly. “Yeah, sorry. I’m coming.”

“Britt is already waiting on side stage,” Jolly smiled towards Y/N as she stepped out of my embrace.

“Side stage? We’re not watching in the crowd?”

I let out a few deep breaths to center myself something I always did before walking out on stage.

“The crowd can get kind of crazy. Plus, you’ll be able to watch better from side stage,” Jolly spoke to Y/N.

Right before we walked out of the room, I gave Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze, one she returned; almost as a silent answer to my earlier question. With my hood pulled over my eyes, I winked at her before leading her out of the room.

“Thank you, we’ll be right back,” I muttered into the microphone as an instrumental version of Miracle played, leading us into our two-minute break in our set.

Throughout the last handful of songs, I kept peering over towards the two women on side stage, almost making sure Y/N was still there. Even though she never gave me a physical answer, part of me worried she would have left. It could have been because of my trust issues from past relationships or having the people I cared about leave me behind, but I couldn’t stop making sure she was still there. This entire agreement between us could end one of two ways: Us parting amicably, neither of us hurt with saying goodbye. Or us walking away with lingering feelings that would destroy us.

I never was one to pray so instead, I tried to think of all the positives way this could end not the negatives. My mind never stopped working whether it was personal or work, I couldn’tstop the gears from turning. Meditation usually helped but at this moment as I gazed at Y/N as she smiled at me, I knew that she already had her hooks in me. The pain of releasing them would not be soon forgotten.

I walked up to her wiping the sweat off my forehead and took the water bottle she extended with a smile; drinking half of it in one go.

“Having fun?” I asked breathless.

Y/N nodded with a huge smile. “I’m glad I stayed.

“So am I.” I admitted while leaning down to her ear, only for her to hear. “I can still taste your cum on my lips.”

I was running back on stage before even giving Y/N a second to register my words.

Throwing a hoodie over me, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. “I’ll meet you guys at the bus in the morning.”

Jolly raised a brow at me. “You’re not coming with to the movies?”

There was a late night showing of some Japanese movie at the local theater. While it did sound something that I would enjoy especially going on Reddit afterwards to see what everyone else was theorizing about the movie, I declined. There was something else waiting for me; hopefully.

“No, I’m going to head back to the hotel; rest up before tomorrow.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to fix it.

“Right,” Folio snickered. “This has nothing to do with Y/N?”

My heart stuttered at the mention of her name as I shot my own accusatory gaze at him. “Isn’t Britt waiting for you right now?”

He gave me the finger before grabbing his things, leaving the green room. Nick was next to leave, not before making plans for us to grab breakfast before the bus left in the morning. Jolly, however, hung back to give me a look; one that I knew all too well.

“I know what I’m doing, Jolly,” I defended while clutching the strap of my bag.

His brows creased together. “Maybe but I don’t want you to wake up in the morning regretting this decision.”

“I won’t.” I answered simply.

Eventually, Jolly nodded, and we talked for a few more moments before I met up with Folio in the parking lot as we walked towards the two bodies waiting for us. My heart hammered hard in my chest as I saw Y/N standing next to Britt, her arms wrapped around herself for warmth. When our eyes locked, it was as if time slowed down, only the two of us mattered in the universe. I wasn’t one for that cliche type bullshit but couldn’t deny that’s how it felt every time I locked eyes with her; marveling at how different she looked than others as I analyzed parts about her.

The way her hair was pulled back in a tight braid showcasing the freckles that peppered her nose and cheeks. How bright her eyes looked under the moonlight as she gazed up at me as I stopped in front of her. The smile that made something twinge in my gut, catching sight of the one dimple in her left cheek.

“Ready?” Folio asked Britt once we were in front of them.

She nodded while lacing fingers with him then looked back to Y/N. “Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”

I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into my chest and felt her body shift in surprise.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

Britt winked. “I’m sure you will, Noah.”

Just as we were about to say goodbye, Y/N held up her hands to Britt.

“Nope. You know I fucking hate that word.”

I stared down at her, still in my embrace, with a quirked brow.

“Anytime someone leaves that I plan on seeing again, I refuse to say goodbye. To me, it’s always see you later,” she explained.

There was something lingering there in the air, something she didn’t want to say, so I nodded as we waved towards Britt and Folio.

“You never gave me an answer,” I said once alone, pulling her closer into my chest.

She looked up at me under her lashes. “I think me staying here waiting for you was answer enough.”

A mischievous smile spread across my face before I lead her towards the hotel; explaining my decision when I noticed her pulled lips in confusion.

“Aren’t you worried about fans following you?”

I merely shrugged. “Most of them have left. The ones that are waiting around are hanging out on the other end of the parking lot. They won’t see us.”

Silence fell between us as we continued the short walk to the hotel, my arm never leaving her shoulders. It surprised me at how calm she was, not once fearing her safety while around me, so I chalked it up to being because Britt knew me previously and must have put in a good word for me.

I didn’t dare say thank you, not yet, since the last time she tried to set me up with someone it ended drastically.

We turned a corner, and the hotel came into view. It was late, nearly midnight, so there weren’t many people in the lobby as we entered.

Seven hours.

“Are you hungry?” I questioned once we stopped in front of the elevator.

She shook her head. “I’m okay.”

Once we both were in the private confines of the elevator, it slowly riding up to my floor, I wrapped my arms around Y/N from behind to burry my face in her neck, breathing her scent. She rested her head against my shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

“Last chance to say no,” I muttered against her skin.

“I need this,” her words gave no pause or uncertainty.

I hummed before pressing light kisses from her neck to behind her ear. “Promise me something?”

“Depends on what it is,” she chuckled lightly.

I breathed, arms going stiff around her, this mere thought not sitting well with me. “Promise after tonight you won’t go back to that asshole?”

“As long as you don’t go back to whoever cheated on you,” Y/N shot back quietly.

Now anger festered for a completely different reason. Jolly mentioned it to everyone earlier that I found out about my ex cheating on me which didn’t bother me at first but it was the excessive posting online about our relationship that I didn’t like.

“Trust me, that won’t happen,” I grunted.

Y/N turned in my arms to wrap her arms around my neck, her fingers grazing through the ends. I almost let my eyes close with the calm feeling.

“I have one rule for tonight,” She started but halted, almost unsure with her words.

“Besides not catching feelings?” I joked with a crooked smile.

“Fine,” Y/N sighed defeated. “I have two rules. No feelings and I think in order to help that rule, we shouldn’t kiss tonight.”

My face fell, along with my heart, at hearing that because all night I couldn’t stop thinking about the way her lips would taste. Would they taste like the chapstick she applied during our set?

“Alright.” I nodded finally with a neutral face. “No feelings and no kissing. But remember what I said, no second thoughts or no regrets.”

The doors opened behind us and without turning her around; I led Y/N towards my room which was only two doors door from the elevator. Her eyes stared up at me, a small smirk playing on her lips as I was meters away from them, my breath fanning across them. I wanted so fucking bad to taste them; they looked so pink and full.

Sliding in the key card, the door clicked open and darkness encased around us once the door to my room shut. The silence that enveloped us was deafening. There was a golden glow radiating behind Y/N from the streetlamp outside and my breath hitched at how ethereal she looked.

A literal angel.

“Nervous?” My voice was quiet as I asked my question.

“No,” Y/N’s voice wavered, dropping her gaze from mine.

“Then why are you rubbing your hands on your thighs?”

She clasped her hands together then began bouncing on the soles of her feet.

“You need to relax, Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you,” I muttered while pressing her against the wall next to the door. “Unless, you want me too.”

I watched intently as she swallowed, stammering over her words. “Ye-yes.”

Fuck.

My dick was throbbing, aching for a release with the thought of Y/N’s lips around it.

“Do you remember the safe word?” I cocked my head to the side, predatory eyes drinking her in.

All she did was nod in return.

“Good,” My finger traced down her neck, over her collarbone.

My hand wrapped around her throat, gently at first because I didn’t know how much she could handle right off the bat; the pad of my thumb pressing hard against the pulse point. I could almost hear her erratic heartbeat in the silence of the room.

“Lay on the coffee table,” I ordered, voice suddenly turning dark with the sudden image that popped in my mind.

Spread open wide for me.

Y/N blinked rapidly “Wh-what?”

“Strip out of your shit and jeans then lay on the coffee table,” I repeated, mouth salivating with the thought of tasting her.

I fell to the bed behind Y/N, exhausted but yet so full of energy, and wrapped an arm around her bare waist, bringing her against my bare chest. Minutes after swallowing every last drop of me, my cock was already begging for more. I left a small kiss to the back of her shoulder while his hands ran up and down her hips, my eyes catching sight of the discarded mask on the floor.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wear that mask again without picturing Y/N on her knees for me, hands tied behind her back with my belt.

“Ready for some more?” She teased when she felt my cock twitch against her ass.

I hummed while one of my hands slide up her stomach over her breast, my fingers pinching and pulling her nipple which caused her to lean her head back against my chest.

“So perfect,” I mused into her back

With one hand on her breast, I dragged a finger against her clit and began rubbing it in small circles. Y/N jerked with my touch and rubbed her ass against me.

I groaned as my cock brushed along her slick folds, almost slipping inside.

Y/N looked over her shoulder at me. “I thought it would be good to know that I have an implant. You know in case you were worried. I mean, we could still use a condom.”

The corner of my lips curled up in a hint of a smile with how fast her words left her lips; the ones I wanted to kiss so bad. Halting my movements on her clit for a second, I buried my face deep into the crook of her neck.

“I’m clean.” I assured her with a kiss.

It was true. With the women in the past, I used a condom every time. But with Y/N, something was different; I couldn’t explain it.

“So am I.”

“Good, because I want to feel everything.” I bit the skin behind her ear causing her to let out a low hiss.

I gripped her hips tightly to lift her slightly, my cock pressing against her pussy, my breath stuttering in my chest once I was completely inside of her; her walls pulsating as it adjusted to my length. Her moan echoed off the walls of the room while I lifted her to her knees so I kneeled behind her, never letting go of my grip on her hips as I made her sit on my lap. I didn’t move, simply enjoying the way she felt and how warm she was.

“Angel,” my breath came out strangled against her back as I tried to keep myself together.

“Please,” Y/N begged moving her hips. “I need you to move, please. Don’t worry about hurting me. I need it.”

Not wasting another second, knowing we were already pressed for time, I snapped my hips into her with no falter. Y/N rested her head against my shoulder, her hand immediately finding my hair, as I pulled myself almost all the way out, just leaving the tip inside of her, before slamming the full length into her. I did this a few times, Y/N almost falling over so I wrapped an arm around her stomach to keep her flushed against me. Our breathing were synced in short and shallow breaths.

“Oh yes,” her moan dragged on with sheer pleasure.

I rubbed at her swollen clit; up and down then side to side.

His finger pressed against my swollen nub and rubbed up and down then side to side.

“This pussy is mine tonight,” I grunted, enunciating each word with a thrust. “Say it.”

She pulled my hair, and I hissed with pleasure. “Yes, Noah. Yours, it’s yours.”

My thrusts stilled for a moment as I dragged my teeth across the skin of my back. “Fuck, I love the way you say my name. Say it again.”

Y/N did, over and over again, as she gripped my cock in almost a vice-like grip and I knew she was close.

Quickly, I switched our positions so she was on her back while I towered over her, setting her legs over my shoulder. I gave her a sly smirk as she whimpered when I didn’t slip inside her again.

“Don’t worry angel. I just want to see your face when you fall apart on my cock.”

With one quick snap of my hips, I spread Y/N open again, and she groaned out in pleasure. This new angle made me feel every inch of her and I let my head fall to her chest slightly.

“Your pussy is clenching around my cock, fuck angel. You’re going to cum,” I smacked the swell of her ass.

When I felt her clench again, I slapper her ass one more time; then three more after that with the fourth slap being exactly what she needed to finally cum. Her shout came out mixed with a groan of sheer pleasure while I fucked her fast through the aftershocks until my eyes shut, hips halting slightly.

Y/N brushed a thumb over my bottom lip as they parted, trying so hard not to cum; not yet. I didn’t want this feeling to end.

“Cum for me, Noah.”

Our eyes locked before I dipped my head towards her nipple so I could bite and suck then with one hard thrust, I grunted as I spilled myself inside of her.

“Y/N,” I breathed against before collapsing on top of her, her hands brushing back the hair from my face.

I hummed low, finally deciding to let the both of us rest for just a little while; we only had five hours left, and I didn’t want to waste it.

With a start, I woke and gazed up to the body I was lying on, heart thudded loudly. Y/N was asleep, lips parted as a soft snore fell from them. I rested my chin in my palm as I now looked down at her, fingers trailing up and down the tattoos on her arm. She didn’t have nearly as much as me. I didn’t miss the way as she analyzed almost every one of mine, curiosity filling her wondrous eyes.

Fuck, she was beautiful.

Strands of her hair fell along the pillow like a halo and it was then that I noticed she had one mole on the left side of her jaw. I pressed a soft kiss to it and as I pulled back, hovered over her lips. We were so close, and I wrapped my hand behind her neck, tilting her lips closer towards mine; brushing them together. It wasn’t a full kiss but just enough to send a shock throughout my entire soul.

“What have you done to me, angel?” I breathed while letting her head fall back to the pillow.

I kissed my way down her neck, in between her breasts, over her navel, then stopped when I reached her clit. There was a fiery hunger festering deep within me, something that started from the moment our eyes connected for the first time in the green room, but no matter how many hits I took of her; I feared it wasn't enough.

I don’t think it’d ever be enough.

The tip of my tongue flicked against her, almost not expecting a reaction, but when I sunk two fingers deep inside her, Y/N’s body jerked awake with a soft moan; the noise going straight to my cock.

“Hm, this is a great wake up call,” She moaned while arching her back off the bed.

After biting her clit, I leaned over her while my fingers still pumped in and out of her in a slow, meticulous pace.

“I couldn’t stop myself. You looked so fucking beautiful laying there.” I admitted.

Y/N tried to hide her face into the pillow which made me grasped her chin with a forceful touch.

“Don’t hide from me, angel,” I demanded while looking directly into her eyes.

We both held each other's gazes as my fingers earned her body yet another release, this orgasm not as loud or nerve ending as the others. I knew she was exhausted, her throat raw from all of noises she previously made, but her body ruined, regardless. Y/N watched me with fire in her eyes and I brought my fingers wet with her arousal to my lips, licking them clean. I hummed in approval, the taste tasting sweet but tangy on my tongue.

I’m going to miss the way she tastes.

“I think you’ve wrecked me,” she exhaled.

With one swift moment, I pulled her into my chest and wrapped her leg around my waist; us being locked in place.

“We slept for an hour.”

My fingers tangled through the long strands of her hair as I stared up at the ceiling, other hand propping my head up. Her gaze was hot on my skin as she accessed my tattoos once again. I let the silence fill the void, my thoughts running rampant. It was hard to shut the doubt out; it always was.

No one knew what would happen in less than four hours when the curtains called the time. I thought about asking her to stay longer but knew that was a line she didn’t want crossed. We both agreed that this was only to last one night and to ask her to stay only for my own selfish reasons was wrong.

“Did this hurt?”

Her soft voice broke me from my thoughts and I realized my fingers were tracing the tattoo on the back of her shoulder while her own fingers were dancing across the tattoo on my neck.

“Like a bitch,” I admitted.

“Which one is your favorite?” Y/N wondered while looking up from tracing the tattoo on my stomach.

To be honest, I didn’t think I had a favorite but at the moment; I propped my thigh up to show her my Naruto tattoo.

She smiled, even though she was confused at the design. “Which one is your biggest?”

I couldn’t help but wiggle my eyebrows at the innuendo which made Y/N smack my chest. “I mean tattoo, you perv.”

Sitting up in bed, I held her thigh close to my hips as I showed her the Jesus tattoo on my back; her shocked breath tickling my ears. The size of the tattoo always shocked people before the design actually did.

I turned over towards her and leaned over her while her hands wrapped around my neck, our lips almost ghosting over each other; fuck, I wanted to taste them so bad.

“Do you want to be a good girl for me?” I questioned with a low voice.

When she nodded, I motioned to the door that let out to the balcony of my hotel room. “Go outside and wait for me.”

“What?” Y/N’s brows furrowed. “It’s the middle of the night. What if someone see’s us?”

I shrugged while brushing my nose along her jawline. “You said it yourself. It’s the middle of the night, no one will be out there. Now, get your perfect ass outside and wait for me.”

Crawling off of her, I dismissed her with a swift pat on the ass, her squealing in delight while she scrambled from the bed. My eyes burned as I watched to make sure she was outside before rummaging through my suitcase. I couldn’t explain why I ended up packing lube but there was something in the back of my mind telling me I needed too. I had no plan on having sex with anyone this tour but just like with everything else, Y/N ended up sneaking her way past the walls I built to protect myself.

With the lube in my hand, I was ready to walk outside when I heard my phone buzz from its spot on the coffee table in the room. I snuck a glance towards Y/N, who was resting her elbows on the railing, gazing down at the street below. I found myself getting lost in her presence yet again until my phone buzzed for a second time so reluctantly I reached for it, thinking it was one of the guys.

Instead of my background on my phone, I was staring at something else entirely different. It was an artist drawing of a girl with feathers in her hair and wolf escaping from the back of her neck.

“Sick,” I muttered, realizing it must have been Y/N’s phone I grabbed and was ready to set it back down when a text popped up on screen.

UNKNOWN: Hey baby, it’s Jacob. I got a new number. Call me in the morning, maybe we can go out for breakfast.

I swallowed thickly as I tried not to think too much of this. It wasn’t any of my business what Y/N did once she left here but the mere thought of her meeting up with him made my fingers twitch around the phone.

UNKNOWN: I hope you’re not with that guy from earlier. I bet he can't even show you a great time. Not the way I have.

Rolling my eyes, I set the phone back on the table and let out three long, deep breaths to help calm my anger and center myself. It would have to do since I didn’t have enough time to open up my Calm up for a meditation clip. Once I felt my heart rate ease to a slow, steady pace, I finally walked outside, letting the cool night air chill my heated skin as I walked up behind Y/N.

“Keep your legs straight but bend over the railing,” I rasped into her ear.

I smirked as she obeyed, pressing her ass into my semi hard cock, and I kicked her feet farther apart. My hand dragged along her spine before stopping at the tight hole between her ass; Y/N freezing underneath my touch.

“Has anyone ever taken you here?” I breathed against her neck while I loomed over her back.

When she shook her head, I spread her cheeks farther apart, the thought of being the first making my cock twitch with excitement and heart swell with pride. I had every intention of taking her this way, as long as she let me, but after mistakingly seeing those texts on her phone I needed it more than ever.

Y/N squirmed in my touch. “Won’t it hurt?”

“I’ll go real slow, angel. And I have lube,” I left a gentle kiss on her cheek before showing her the bottle in my hand.

Her curious eyes darted from the bottle to my face before nodding slowly.

“Okay.”

My cock jumped as I popped open the bottle, squirting the liquid down her ass.

“You’ll have to relax. I’ll be able to slide in easier if you’re not tensing, okay?” I spoke softly, hoping my voice would ease away her tension.

When she nodded, I eased her tight hole with one finger, going about knuckle deep before a hiss fell from her lips. I eased my finger back until she almost whined, pressing her ass deeper against me. Slowly, I worked her open even more by adding a second finger. Y/N’s head was turned to watch me as my gaze was locked on her ass, watching my fingers pump in and out of her until I pulled out of her completely, spitting in my hand.

My eyes snapped up to hers. “Safe word?”

Y/N gave me a warm smile. “Fuck my ass, Noah.”

I groaned. “Anything for you, angel.”

As the head of my cock pressed into her hole, Y/N tensed up under my hands that were gripping her hips. There was still some slight resistance, but the lube had clattered to the floor out of my reach so instead, I spit between her ass cheeks; the moan that crawled out of her throat were the ones that made your body shiver with delight.

“You like it when I spit on you?” I asked while pressing a little deeper inside of her.

“Yes,” she hummed.

Once completely sheathed inside of her, I rested my forehead against her back while I thrusted against her ass in long and deep thrusts. The tightness on my cock was nearing me closer to my orgasm, it burning at the base of my spine. The tension in my stomach was unbearable, almost as if I couldn’t breathe.

“Touch yourself,” I rasped, gone in my ecstasy.

Y/N obeyed by pressing two fingers against her clit, and I freed one hand from her hip to wrap it around her throat, pulling her flush against my chest; the new angle making me see stars.

“Such a whore for my cock.”

My grip around her throat was tight but not enough to cut off oxygen; just right.

“Yes, Noah.” She agreed.

I dug my teeth deep into the skin of her neck, leaving yet another bruising mark. All night, I’d been leaving marks across her neck, back, chest, and hips to mark what was mine.

Yours? How so?

“My whore. My angel,” I grunted, ignoring the thoughts in my mind, and my hips stilled when the orgasm ripped through me, exploding in a white haze of ecstasy.

“Yours,” Y/N called out before falling limp in my embrace.

With a yawn, I threw on a sweater while slipping into my slides and stared down at the sleeping form of Y/N. She laid sprawled out on the bed, sheet wrapped loosely around her lower half as a leg stuck out to hang off the bed. Her bare back was to me and I drank in the side of the various bite marks and scratches.

It was nearing 4:30 in the morning and as she slept; I planned on walking over to the twenty-four-hour diner across the street from the hotel to grab us something to eat. Even though our time together was dwindling down, I wanted to make sure Y/N ate something. We were using a lot of energy the last few hours; she needed to gain it back somehow.

After our time outside, I dragged her back inside and threw her onto the couch.

Y/N gave me a cheeky smile. “Your stamina is extremely hard to keep up with.”

“What?” I teased while pulling her down to my lap as I sat. “Giving up on me, already? We still have four hours left.”

With her straddling my lap, Y/N eased down on my cock and my head fell back against the couch. My neck exposed to her, it was her turn to leave various bites along my pulse point as she raised herself most of the way off of me before sinking down complete.

“Shit, angel.”

I went to grab her hips, but she held my hands along the top of the couch, keeping them in place so I couldn’t touch her.

Y/N rode me in such a steady, erratic pace, that my orgasm was nearing its crest, cock pulsing inside of her, and she hummed in satisfaction. Her tits bounced with every rise and fall of her hips and I desperately wanted to grab them in my hands.

“Just watch,” she said in between breaths.

Easily I could have overpowered her, but I liked how gorgeous she looked like this; tits out, head titled back in pure pleasure, and my cock spearing her open.

Y/N made a soft noise in her sleep as I shook my head from the memories of less than an hour ago to stand there for a few more moments, watching her sleep. Her hair covered her face, so I gently brushed it back to leave a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I’ll be back soon, angel.”

Two bags of food in my hand, I exited the elevator with new found worry and I neared my hotel room. I was only gone for thirty minutes but as the clock on my phone practically screamed at me 5:00 A.M. I knew that there was still so much left to do in two hours. As I shut the door behind me, the sound must have woken Y/N because she slowly stirred while sitting up in bed.

“Hi,” I smiled while setting the food on the table. “I grabbed us some food.”

She stiffened a yawn behind her hand before running it through her hair. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Fuck, even her sleepy voice turned me on.

I shrugged while setting out the foam containers full of pancakes, waffles, and scrambled eggs with toast. Then I grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and placed them on the table as Y/N sank low into one chair, bedsheet clutched tightly to her chest.

“Feeling modest now?” I joked while setting a little of everything in front of her.

She mocked me by laughing. “No, it’s cold in here and I feel weird being naked while you’re dressed.”

I sat across from her as we ate in silence for the first long while, both of us scarfing down almost all of our food. Once I finished, I placed some of my hair in a bun while resting my chin in my hand, watching Y/N as she picked apart a loose thread on the bedsheet.

“What’s on your mind?”

She jerked slightly at my voice. “Uh, nothing important. Just work.”

I could see past her lie but decided not to press too much into it. “What do you do for work?”

“I-uh-I’m an author.”

“Why the hesitation?” I noticed.

Y/N shrugged. “Every time I tell people I’m an author they give me the typical that’s not a career look. But it’s the only thing I love to do. I’ve tried other things and hated it. But not writing, it’s never let me down.”

I couldn't stop the grin that pulled at my lips, completely understanding where she was coming from.

“That’s how I am with the band. Music was the only thing I knew growing up. I remember downloading this mixing program on my grandparents old ass computer and I thought for sure I’d get in trouble when they found out,” I smiled at the old memory.

“Did you live with your grandparent?” Y/N asked while she pulled her knees to her chest, sheet still clutched against her.

I swallowed before nodding, easing back into my chair. “After my dad died, I stayed with my mom but our relationship wasn’t the greatest so I bounced back and forth between the two places; when I wasn’t staying with my friends.”

“Uh,” she shifted in her chair. “I lost my parents a few years ago; car crash. That’s why I hate saying goodbye.”

Not wanting to go into further detail about my own parents' death even though we related somehow, I remembered back to last night when we said goodbye to Britt and Folio, Y/N refusing to say goodbye. Suddenly, it made sense. She didn’t want to say goodbye in case it was the last time she saw someone.

With my finger pressed to my forehead, I changed the subject by telling Y/N all about how Bad Omens first started, her watching with a fond smile. She reached for my hand at one point, trailing a finger over the letters I had tattooed on the side of it; my shoulders going rigid as she spelled out the letters.

“K. E. A. T. O. N.”

I let out a low cough. “What is this? A spelling bee?”

She playfully narrowed her eyes before linking our fingers together. “Shut up. You also have Pierce tattooed on your other hand.”

“Yeah, Keaton Pierce. He was one of my best friends, he passed away last March. He also was the vocalist for the band Too Close To Touch.”

Her lips parted. “Oh, shit. I knew it sounded familiar. I’ve heard a few of their songs. I’m sorry, Noah. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

Since our hands were still linked, I pulled her from the chair as I stood, wrapping her into my embrace. “It’s alright. I don’t mind talking about him.”

“He must have meant a lot to you if you have his name tattooed,” Y/N had one hand pressed to keep the sheet against her while the other played with the string of my hoodie.

“Losing him was one of the hardest losses, I think. Besides my parents, and grandfather.”

She sucked in a breath and I knew what was coming: Oh, no. You’ve lost so many people. I’m sorry.

It was the same bullshit that everyone said anytime I mentioned all the people in my life that died.

“Well, I wonder what he would have had to say about our little arrangement tonight. Think he would give you advice on how this could have been a stupid idea?”

I snorted, almost shocked she didn’t go the typical route. “Keaton would be fucking proud that I got a girl like you to agree to spend a night with me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes while smacking my chest, a red hue crossing her features. “I’m nothing special.”

I lifted her chin with my knuckle, tired eyes gazing up at me. “I don’t agree with that.”

“Uh,” she swallowed. “We have less than two hours left.”

Deciding not to bring up how fast she changed the subject, I nodded while pulling her towards the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

I led her into the large bathroom and motioned for her to sit on the bathroom counter. “I’m going to run us a bath.”

“Oh, how romantic,” Y/N smirked while letting the sheet finally fall to the floor and propping herself up on the bathroom counter.

Dark, hungry eyes, watched as she spread her legs wide to show me the slickness between her legs. Not removing my eyes from her, I felt for the faucet of the tub and set the perfect temperature after plugging the drain.

“Spread them wider, angel,” I ordered while crawling over to her.

Y/N bit her lip at the sight of me but obeyed with hands on her knees, keeping her legs spread wide for me.

My fingers dug deep into the skin of her thighs as I dragged her closer to the edge, the sound of skin on cool granite echoing in the room. Without anymore hesitation, my tongue darted out to lap at the wetness pooling between her legs and I hummed in delight.

“Taste better than breakfast.”

She rested her head against the mirror while running a hand through my hair, guiding me back to her pussy. Her mewls of pleasure and moans of praise made me work harder to bring her to euphoric bliss once again. My teeth grazing over her clit after my tongue speared inside of her; over and over.

“No-Noah,” she said through gritted teeth.

I hummed against the inside of her thigh.

“Can you suck on it?” She asked breathless. “I love when you do that.”

My eyes snapped up to her, catching the most angelic sight; Y/N was rolling a nipple between her fingers with her free hand, the other still tangled in my messy locks, while her head fell back with parted lips. Doing as she so gratefully asked, I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked until her moans of an orgasm rang beautifully in my ears, arousal coating my lips and tongue.

I rose to my full height, towering over her with my hair falling into my eyes as I ghosted my lips over hers, so desperately wanting to taste them. I needed it more than fucking oxygen at this point.

Y/N’s hands clawed at my clothes, muttering one word under her breath.

Off.

Hastily ripping off my sweater than sweat pants and briefs, I stood in front of Y/N again, under her accessing gaze.

“Fuck, Noah,” she breathed. “You’ve completely ruined any other guy for me.”

Pride filled me as a cocky grin pulled at my lips. “That was the plan, angel.”

Y/N jumped off the counter and pushed me to sit on the edge of the tub, me almost stumbling over my long limbs do to the force.

“I want to suck your cock, Noah,” she practically begged.

My cock stood straight up, little beads of pre-cum gathered at the small slit, and I ran a finger through it before spreading it over Y/N’s lips as she kneeled in front of me.

“All of it,” I demanded, sticking my finger deep into her throat.

She hummed as she sucked the entire length of my finger, eagerly swallowing my arousal down her throat. A loud pop echoed through the room when I removed my finger and grasped the back of her head. With one hand tangled in her hair, the other grasped the base of my cock and I forced her down towards it.

“Fuck,” I strangled a few other curses when the head of my cock hit the resistance of the back of her throat.

Y/N didn't even twitch or gag, simply bobbed her head up and down, taking my balls into her hand to squeeze. My hands grasped the edge of the tub, the water slowly rising to the edge, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to me was this beautiful girl on her knees, mouth stuffed full of my cock.

“Angel, right there,” I grasped her chin to keep her locked in place, her tongue flattening against the underneath of my cock. “Be a good girl and keep in place while I fuck this pretty little mouth.

Tears stained her cheeks, makeup running down her face, when she gazed up at me to nod. With a groan, I began fucking her throat, Y/N gagging quietly but never once stopping me. She made the comment earlier about how every other guy is ruined for her but little did she know any other women that tried to get my attention wouldn’t matter. My heart belonged to her more than just tonight. If she wanted it, she could have it.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” I rushed out, the feeling of a burning orgasm wrapping itself around me, encasing me with the sudden rush of heat.

Y/N did the best to nod with my tight grip in her hair, my hips continuing to fuck up into her face, and I hissed out in pleasure when her nails dug deep into the skin of my thighs. I could hear now her choking over the running water and I froze momentarily.

“Safe word?”

Quickly she shook her head then urged me to continue with a gentle smack to my thigh. So taking that as permission to continue, I forced her head all the way down on my cock so she could swallow every single inch of me; my balls resting against her chin.

Her name came out in a choked moan as I finally spilled myself deep inside of her throat, her humming in delicious delight as she drank every last drop.

Twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes until this girl would leave my life, not knowing the ramifications it would entail for me. But that’s what we agreed to; one night, no feelings, no regrets, and no kissing. Much to my dismay, it’s what Y/N wanted and I couldn’t deny her that.

“Noah, what are you doing?” She giggled as I carried her from the bathtub to the bed, water dripping from our still soaked bodies.

I tossed her onto the bed before climbing over her, spreading her legs apart with a forceful knee. “I want one last orgasm from you, angel. Think you can do that for me?”

We both were spent, body aching and screaming, but we couldn’t deny each other this. One final time.

I wrapped her leg around my back then lined my cock against her entrance, brown eyes locked hers as I slipped between her folds, the familiarity almost making me cum right on the spot.

Fuck, I would miss this. And her.

Y/N arched herself off the bed, her chest pressing against mine and with this new angel, I slowed to almost a stop, wanting to savor these final few moments locked together. I flicked my tongue over her nipple teasing at pulling with teeth before shifting over to the other one mimicking my actions. The pad of my thumb teased at her clit as I pulled most of the way out of her, Y/N’s arousal glistening on me in the light of the rising sun.

“Noah, I’m going to-.”

“Look at me, angel,” I grunted when I noticed her eyes were screwed shut. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

When she did, I stared down at her with so much adoration filling my iris’ and when our lips brushed lightly together, I couldn’t hold myself back any longer; I needed to know what they tasted like. Our lips finally crashed against each other, both of us moaning into each other's mouths. I didn’t miss a beat, our tongues dancing together in perfect harmony. Y/N’s lips molded perfectly against mine, almost as if we were soulmates separated at creation. It was a desperate kiss, teeth smacking against each other, and I bit down on her bottom lip as my thrusts became erratic then with a shuddering scream, we both fell apart together.

We lay there in our post daze of bliss for a long moment of silence. My forehead resting against hers. Just as I was about to steal another kiss, the alarm I set for seven a.m broke the glass of the house we created to protect us from reality.

Regretfully, I rolled off of Y/N to shut off the alarm, mentally building back up the walls I let down for her as I stepped into a pair of sweats, opting to not put on a shirt. Turning on my heels, it almost shocked me to see how fast Y/N dressed, almost walking towards the door. My heart sunk low, realizing she had her hand resting on the doorknob.

“Seven a.m.” I nodded.

Y/N bounced on the soles of her feet. “Yep. I don’t know if I should say thank you or something.”

I couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from my lips. “Trust me, angel. You helped me just as much I did you so there’s no need to thank me.”

She nodded, an uncomfortable silence falling between us for the first time tonight. I wanted her to stay, to say fuck it for our rules. None of that mattered anymore. She could stay for a few more hours and we could discuss things.

Discuss what? You heard her, Y/N doesn’t want a relationship. She only wanted sex.

“Did you need me to call you an Uber or something?” I asked, blocking out the negative thoughts.

“Already taken care of,” Y/N held up her phone.

See? Clearly she wants to leave; let her.

“So then,” I coughed. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

Y/N didn’t answer me right away, instead opened the door and when she looked back over her shoulder at me, my dulled eyes almost begging her to come back inside. The word danced on my tongue.

Stay, please stay with me. We’ll figure it out.

“Goodbye, Noah,” she shook her head before slipping from the room, the door closing slowly behind her.

Now alone for the first time in twelve hours, I let my eyes flutter shut, a broken sob crawling its way out of my chest.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens reader

[readershewrites]

show me what mercy feels like

As someone who struggles deeply with body image and self-talk, I wrote this to fulfil my longing to be seen and be treated with fierce love. Deeply inspired by the works of @kneelingshadowsalome​. Specifically “Love Is A Heavy Weapon”, her sequel to “Man-Sized”, and her recent drabble also dealing with body image.

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x f!OC

Tags: Explicit sex, light LIGHT choking I guess, passionate sex, body image, mirror sex, tongue-licking, a smidge of knife-play, a waft of dom Simon

Trigger Warnings: OC is struggling with body dysmorphia/body image

She’s used to these feelings. They’ve come and gone intermittently through her life - beginning in teenagehood and lasting until now, so she’s become accustomed to the routine. Rumination, despair, rebirth. The endless cycle, never triggered by the same thing, never predictable.

This week is about the fourth or so day of these feelings. Her jeans feel different, her shirts and blouses feel different, and it’s not so disastrous as to enact any drastic change yet she feels burdened by the weight of the feelings and disheartened by the oncoming storm.

Loving herself has always been a conscious effort, and like most people there are dips and troughs as well as highs. Often the highs are brought with or by her lover, Simon. She was on her way to self-acceptance and self-compassion when he stepped into her life, and proceeded to shove her face-first into a sea of love and feeling so deep she felt like she had never been alive before him.

Simon loves her well, and she is sure of that.

But her feelings towards herself are distinct, and today she really can’t shake her sadness no matter how much she is in need of it.

This morning she stands a moment longer in front of the mirror, dismayed by what she sees. Her heart constricts when she thinks of the beautiful woman she walked by the evening before, resplendent in velvet and dripping contentment. She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye before it can fully form, and quickly looks away.

She opens the bathroom door and there is Simon, sitting on the side of the bed, knees parted widely and hands resting on his thick thighs. His dark, observant eyes are already watching her when she raises her eyes, and the moment their gazes meet she is undone.

Her eyebrows pinch as the hot sting of tears burns her eyes, and Simon sucks a deep breath in. He sits still, hands betraying tension in the fingers pressed firmly against his knees, and only releases his grip when she dives into his body.

She doesn’t really sob, but the ache is deep and well rooted in her soul.

“Talk to me.” Simon’s gravelly voice rumbles through her last defenses and she trembles slightly as a few tears slip down her face.

She presses herself harder into him, and he receives it all.

“I just-... I just can’t bear the way I look sometimes. I don’t like the way I look, I don’t understand the way I look, and I’m tired of fighting to keep positive about it.” She squeezes her eyes firmly shut as the exhaustion hits her.

“I don’t want to accept my body as it is. I don’t care about gratitude and compassion and all that stuff and yeah I know it’s right and good and all that stuff but I hate that I have to put the work in to like a body that doesn’t look good. I just hate it so much! I hate that I look like this.”

Her voice shakes terribly and her nose is clogged up with snot and emotion, but Simon is steadfast. This is what she loves about him - he asks for all that she thinks and is never critical of how cruel she can be.

“I don’t want other people to tell me I look good because I don’t believe them and I never have and I worry that I never will. I worry that people are lying when they say I look nice and I hate that I can never take a compliment and I hate that I’m too insecure to be gracious and above all I hate that I look like this!”

Simon readjusts his grip on her, one thick arm wrapped tightly around her torso and the other fiercely clutching her head to his chest.

“I don’t want to have to consider what colours suit me, what stupid body type I am, what glasses or haircut or– or– or what length my dresses should be. I just want to wear what other people wear and look like they do.”

She’s done, and she has a headache. She has aired her grievances and shown him her valley of sorrow, but in the wake feels defeated and tired.

Nevertheless, the cycle is familiar to her and she knows Simon will be there. He is her lighthouse when she is at sea.

She lifts her head from his neck and sees his shimmering, pained eyes staring back at her. Wordless and strong, he draws her into a kiss full of intent with his dry, warm palm resting firmly at the base of her throat.

“Go to work,” he murmurs, eyes tracing over the shape of her lips. She wills herself to stay still though she feels nude under his stare. “We will recalibrate tonight.”

She gives him a nod, throat still under loving hostage, and pulls away.

-

As she pulls open the front door and toes her shoes off, she meditates over how the day has gone. She had tried not to let her mood affect her work, but had nevertheless been more withdrawn than usual. She was grateful for having two excellent friends at work who knew her propensity for turning inwards and were kind and warm but not intrusive.

Padding steadily to the bedroom, she feels the familiar mix of nervousness and anticipation waiting for her.

“Recalibration” is to Simon a sort of potent mixture of sex and therapy. Every time she has a wobbly moment he takes her apart piece by piece and guides her into the recesses of feeling that she is afraid of. He shows her that they may be her demons but that they exist in a corner of fear and loneliness that he won’t let her get lost in.

Even so, even after all the times he has done this with her, she is afraid.

But she trusts him to guide her ahead with his sober seriousness and unflinching determination to love her.

She opens the bedroom door and there he is, sitting in the same position as this morning but facing the door.

She looks to the wall opposite their bed and sees that he’s moved the large gilded mirror that normally resides above their fireplace to rest against the wall. From the angle she’s at she can’t quite see the reflection, but knowing how directly she will see her nakedness sparks a kindling of stress in her.

“Come ‘ere.”

Simon beckons her with his hand and her feet move without her even knowing it.

He reaches for her once she is in his space and lifts her so that she is straddling his wide hips.

“Si–”

He hushes her with a squeeze of her thigh. “How do you tell me you’re okay?”

Her mouth dries and her underwear grows damp. “Two taps.”

“And your safeword?”

“Apple.”

Simon’s hand travels from her thigh to the crease where it meets her hip.

“Are you ready?”

She nods firmly, gaze still locked on him.

“Good girl. I love you.”

Her eyes prick with tears and the sight of her wet eyes, Simon’s own turn hard.

Her cunt clenches at the way he regards her now. Soft, sympathetic Simon is gone. This version of him is determined, relentless, and dominating.

“I’m going to take your clothes off,” he says, finally dropping his eyes to her chest where her nipples have pebbled to hard, sensitive points.

He releases her thigh and methodically unbuttons her blouse, taking it off and dropping it to the ground as his focus turns to her singlet. He draws a calloused finger along the line of her throat, traces the mole he loves to bite, and slowly drags it down to circle her right nipple.

She releases her breath - not having realised she was holding it - and watches the seriousness of his brow as he leans close and licks the light shape of her hard nipple over her bra and shirt.

At first he’s gentle, kissing it and licking it as though it were the first time, but then his arms are at her back and pushing her into him and all of a sudden he is biting ravenously at her nipple and wetting her tank top and holy fuck she can feel his saliva through the thick cotton of her bra.

Her heart is thundering at her chest and she desperately wants to feel his tongue on the skin of her breast, but the rule is that tonight is for Simon to enjoy her body so she allows it to continue, all the while aware of the growing warmth and wetness of her crotch.’

Pulling back ever so briefly, Simon is breathing hard and releases an arm from its grip around her to pull the strap off of her right shoulder and gently pulls her breast out. She looks down and he is staring right at her, staring staring staring as he takes her nipple between his teeth and rolls it.

She can’t help the whine that leaves her lips, and the moan that shatters the air when he pushes a small amount of spit just over her nipple and then closes his mouth over it and sucks.

Her cheeks are hot and her heart is pounding furiously and Simon still hasn’t broken his penetrating stare. He reaches for the other strap with his other hand and pulls it down and her left breast is engulfed by his hot hand and she begins to rock over his crotch as he continues with the agonisingly slow pace of his suckling.

She registers distantly that he is hard, but focuses on burning the image of him at her chest into her brain.

A moment passes, and Simon reaches behind him. She looks and he has a combat knife in his hand, and brings them to the front of her shirt. The cool blade glides lightly against her skin and they both watch in fascination as her skin erupts in goosebumps.

Hand confidently gripping the handle, Simon turns the blade to lie flat against her skin and slides it under her bra and the bunched up top. He pulls the knife towards his own chest, then turns the blade and slides it up and down only a few times until the material gives way and her chest is exposed and they can both watch her breasts move up and down from the thrill.

She complies as Simon peels the cut cloth from her body, lifting her arms obediently, then settles her hand in his thick, rough hair.

Simon lifts her slightly so that she is holding her own weight above him, and curves his right knuckle as though he is holding a pen. Then he presses his hand against her crotch, adds pressure and languidly strokes back and forth against her.

She leans forward to kiss him, but he pulls away with a grunt.

“Tongue out.”

She sticks it out, panting slowly but deeply. Simon’s eyes twinkle darkly as he leans forward to lick her tongue with his, and she just about ascends to heaven.

He brings her back down with a shockingly firm hand clutching her throat, and she blinks furiously at him, tongue still out and heart racing wildly.

Simon ignores her surprise and licks her tongue twice more before leaning in, enclosing his mouth over her tongue and sucking hard.

She squeals at the sensation and her thighs quiver dramatically.

He chuckles lowly and she is - for a brief moment - embarrassed, but is distracted by him unbuttoning her jeans.

“Take these off,” he says, “then get down in front of the mirror.”

She clumsily shuffles off his lap, looking longingly at the bulge in his pants, but obeys.

She wriggles out of her jeans and slides her underwear off, but stops short of turning to the mirror. Simon watches her carefully in the middle of taking off his own clothes, thick and scarred chest moving in motion with his breath. She stays facing him even as he takes his own trousers and pants off, his juicy cock bouncing, pink and wet.

“Love.”

Lowering her gaze, she turns to the mirror and kneels. She doesn’t want to see herself. Then, she leans forwards onto her hands and stares right at the rug under her palms. Seeing, but also not seeing the pattern she had chosen for their room.

Simon’s hands settle on her shoulders then bring her back to her knees and she meets his burning gaze in the mirror with difficulty.

His erection is pressing hotly against her back, but she’s not sure anymore whether the goosebumps are from arousal or discomfort. She stubbornly locks eyes with him and thinks, I don’t want to look at this.

Simon’s nostrils flare and there’s just a beat of silence before his big hands flex and then his right hand settles haphazardly over a breast and the other at her belly and then they both grab, hard.

The action takes her breath away and her eyes blow wide before he growls lowly, “I want to always be able to grab handfuls of you.”

With a firm knee he nudges hers apart and pushes his forwards until her crotch is sitting back against his thigh.

Like the good girl she is, she begins to rock, and Simon grunts approvingly. The hand at her belly relaxes, only to reposition slightly and grab her tummy again. The hand at her chest slides to pinch her nipple and yep she is definitely back at full arousal and can’t help the wail that leaves her when he yet again opens his mouth to let warm glob of spit drip down her chest.

He tucks his head into her neck and bites down firmly before using his hand to smear his spit along the skin of her breast.

“I want to always be able to bite you.”

She closes her eyes and lets out a sob of want.

He uses his hands to push her down harder against his knee. She tries desperately to angle her hips so that something will touch her clit, but he holds her steady. This is just the beginning.

“I want you sticky and wet and naked.”

He abruptly releases her and she lets out a sharp yelp and catches herself with her palms before she can face-plant. She finds him smirking at her in the mirror. Mouth twisted and teasing but eyes knowing and warm.

Back on your knees.

Behind her Simon pumps his pulsing cock with his right hand, reaching down slightly to collect her juices and then smearing the warm wetness over his cock and even down to his balls.

She lowers herself slightly by bending her elbows so she can watch the delicious scene. Her bear of a man. Palming himself over her spread legs. The thrill that she gets from watching him stare at her puffy and ripe cunt is the definition of addiction.

He leans forward slightly and guides the head to her opening, and she sighs in relief. Simon is silent, but the sweat beading at his forehead and the shine of his chest reveals the strain on him.

He pushes in slowly, drawing it out to the point where she wants to scream. She lets out a weak whine and rests her head on the ground.

“No.”

A hand fists her hair and pulls back on it. She gasps as her head is wrenched back so that she is once again staring at her own blown pupils, wet chest and red face.

“You’re gonna watch today,” Simon says, buried to the hilt but also totally still, “Don’t care if ya watch me or yourself, but don’t even fuckin’ think of taking those beautiful eyes off the mirror, ‘kay love?”

“Okay”, she chokes out.

“Mmph.”

Pleased, he pulls out slowly and then pushes back in.

She can feel his cock all the way up in her throat. Each measured thrust punches the breath from her lungs stops time for just a second before he grants her peace and pulls out.

But the pace he sets can’t be called peace at all. In fact, he isn’t even quicking at all.

“Si,” she says, fingertips turning white as she grips the carpet.

“Si,” she chants as he smiles and tightens his fist in her hair.

“Si,” she sobs as he runs a covetous hand down her sweaty back.

“Please…”

“Don’t think so,” he laughs, relishing in his power.

“Fuckin’ hell love,” he says, “wish you could see the view I’ve got ‘ere.”

She closes her eyes at the sweet torture just for a moment–

SMACK!

She shrieks and clenches down furiously on his hot cock.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet you’re creamin’ on me. Fuuuuuuck, darlin’.”

The tremor in her belly spreads to her thighs, and she can’t bear that he’s talking such sweet words when he won’t. let. her. come!

A dark chuckle bounces from Simon and reaches her burning ears. Her looks up wetly at her lover and cries quietly as he slips out from her completely.

Simon ignores her tears and pulls her torso up and against his chest. They’re breathing heavily and out of sync, and both of them are shaking slightly from the tension of a drawn-out fuck.

Simon then manoeuvres his right leg so that his foot is planted on the carpet and his knee is facing the mirror, then he drags her shaking right leg to drape over his and nestles her close to him. She can feel his pubic hair pressing against her ass and the right side of her body is slightly compacted by the position, but she knows this is going to be a delicious experience.

He wraps his left arm around her body and waits for her to dig her hands into his muscular forearm for support. It’s a challenging position as they’re both balancing their weight on their left sides, and he’s got her right leg propped up on his, but they both can’t resist watching the way it spreads her cunt wide open.

He especially eagerly watches the way her juices slide down her left thigh. He dips a hand to catch the drip and sucks loudly at his fingers.

“Put me in.” He commands.

She enthusiastically complies and he allows her to tilt forward slightly until he notches in at the right angle and slides smoothly into her tight cunt.

His right hand smooths lovingly over her thigh as his eyes bores into hers.

“Here we go love.” He warns, and then begins their carnal dance.

He pulls his fat cock from her walls and then generously shoves it back in, watching as her thighs flex and the cries begin yet again.

She is clawing at his forearm, unable to stop watching his beautiful manhood make use of her the only way she wants to be used.

Distantly she looks at the rolls of flesh on her right side and is momentarily distracted and disturbed by the observation, but, as astute as ever, Simon notices immediately and his lustful, loving monologue begins.

“Look at you, fuckin’ hating yourself like that.”

He slams his hips into her with extra frustration.

She weeps.

“This body was made to love like this, can’t you see?”

His right hand grazes over her clit and she yells out in pleasure and frustration when he moves away.

“No one else can take me like this.”

His hand grabs her jaw so their mirror-gaze breaks and she has her neck twisted to look up and behind at him.

The proximity forces her to flutter around him, and Simon ups the pace.

“I fuckin’ love you. You know that?”

“I luh–”

“Uh-uh” he commands, and she shuts her mouth. “I’m talking.”

Her eyes leak tears and her cheeks are just as wet as her cunt. Small squeaks come out her mouth at every push of his hips.

“You make my life.” He grunts, mashing his lips against hers. She warbles against his mouth and her entire body clenches.

Simon wrenches his head from hers and then forces her back to face the mirror. The speed is more frenzied, and there’s no containing her volume now.

“Ah–ah—-hah!... Si! Yes!”

He grabs her right hand, intertwining their fingers, and leads her down to her clit. He ensures that both their hands are touching her engorged, sensitive nub and begins to furiously work it.

“Uh- yes!” 

“Fuckin’ sick of you hating yourself like you don’t have me wrapped around your finger.”

“Ohhhh! Uh–uh—uhh— yessss please Simon,” she sobs, crying and crying but still looking directly at him, “Please. Please!”

“You don’t know how much I want you always.” He huffs, pace manic. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore.

“I want to be in you all the time. This cunt is heaven.”

She’s close, and he’s right behind her.

Refusing to lose control, Simon lowers them to the carpet as carefully as he can manage. Her breasts and his arm are pressed against the rough jute material and he waits a moment to release her right leg to the ground and allows her to shift her left to a more comfortable sprawl.

This fucked iteration of the froggy position is tight on her legs and more than a tad uncomfortable, but at this rate she’d rather die than complain.

He brings their intertwined hands back to her clit, brushing lightly against it to test her readiness and at her cry of please please don’t stop Simon licks his lips and resumes his relentless drilling.

“Your body is my endless heaven. You are my dream. You are my dream.”

He repeats the second time with fluttering eyes and she cries unabashedly into the carpet, mouth open and drool and tears and sweat dripping onto the floor.

“I’m coming! Si I’m coming I’m co--”

Her scream almost drowns him out, but she feels his words against her neck anyway.

“You make me want things. A fuckin’ baby, your belly huge and tits full of milk and fuckin’ soft everywhere.”

The mental image is so horrifyingly clear in his head that Simon is hurtled into his own orgasm, his speech ripped in half by a loud moan. His grunting accompanies hers as she bucks and wails and thrashes beneath him, milking him to the point of near-madness.

Her left ear is ringing and the ache in her hips is more than a little painful, but by the time their highs are over she’s a mess underneath him, and sobbing openly into the carpet. This has been by far the most visceral ‘recalibration’ they’ve ever had, and her heartache has more than been met by intimacy and affection.

She feels such grief and sadness but the feelings are crushed by waves of love so fierce she can’t do anything but weep.

Above her, Simon shifts and smooths a hand down her sweaty back.

“Shhhh,” he whispers against her sweaty head. He repeats it over and over as she expels her anguish and is overcome with lust, adoration, feeling.

“I’m here. I’m here.”

#Simon Ghost Riley x OC #Simon Ghost Riley #COD MW2 #Simon Ghost Riley smut #Simon Ghost Riley angst #Simon Ghost Riley fluff

[viking-raider]

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT > PART TWO

Summary-> It's a lovely first morning for Alexa and Henry, as they continue to learn about one another, and filming their new marriage gets serious.

Pairing-> Henry Cavill/OFC (Alexa)

Word Count-> 3k

Parts-> I

Warnings-> PG: Arranged Marriage, Language, Banter

Inspiration-> Nick and Vanessa Lachey’s Love is Blind on Netflix.

Author’s Note-> My apologies if any of the information on Alexa's T1 is incorrect. I'm willing to take advice. But there’s not many to do. I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

– The Honeymoon –

Stirring, Alexa no longer felt the engulfing warmth of Henry's body against her back and rolled onto hers. Looking to his side of the bed, she found it empty. Casting her eyes out of the mountain of blankets, she discovered her husband's silhouette against the sparkling sun, standing on the veranda and enjoying a cup of coffee. A sleepy smirk pulled across her lips, sitting up and brushing the loose strands of snow-white hair out of her face.

“Morning.” Henry said with a low rumble, coming to stand in the open door.

“Good morning.” Alexa greeted him back, stretching and sighing, feeling a bit jet-lagged from their flight, but nothing that would affect their day. “How long have you been up?” She asked, glancing at the clock on her nightstand, reading it was almost noon.

“An hour or two.” He answered, taking a deep swallow of his coffee. “I've just been enjoying the nice weather, until you woke up, so we could have breakfast.”

“You've been waiting for my lazy tush to get out of bed, to eat breakfast?” Alexa gasped, looking at him with surprise.

“I have.” Henry smirked, amused. “I don't mind. Besides, Riah called not long after I woke up, to tell me they'll be here at two, to start filming us.”

“Lovely.” She gulped, looking down at the blankets pooled around her waist, chewing on her lip for a moment. “Well, I'll get up and dress, while you order us breakfast!” She said, sliding to the edge of the bed.

“Do you want anything specific?” He asked, cocking his head at her, sensing an odd energy from her.

“Um, if they have oatmeal and whole-grain toast, definitely bananas, and a fruit smoothie, soy-milk.” She rambled off, heading into the closet for her clothing.

Henry smiled, amused at her appetite. “Will do, love.”

“Oh!” Alexa gasped, popping back out of the closet, stopping Henry on his way out of the bedroom. “No strawberries! I'm super allergic to them. Like, we'll spend our honeymoon in the hospital with anaphylactic shock.”

“Definitely no strawberries.” Henry shook his head, blue eyes big with concern.

Alexa nodded at him, then disappeared back into the closet. Henry came back a short time later, to find her sitting cross legged on the closet floor, a kit unfolded before her.

“What are you doing?” He asked, frowning down at her.

“I'm reapplying my insulin pump and glucose sensor.” She replied, frowning up at him, before recalling Henry hadn't been in the room nor awake, when she checked her levels. “I have Type One diabetes. I was diagnosed when I was eight years old, after getting sick. I'm sorry, I didn't tell you. I should have, but it's such a part of my life, wearing my pump and sensor, or pricking my finger and using my insulin pens, that sometimes I don't think to tell new people in my life I have it.” She explained to him, gulping.

“Unless it's someone that needs to know.” Alexa added, quietly.

“And your new husband isn't one of those people?” Henry asked, moving to squat in front of her, looking over everything she had laid out. “What if your sugars dropped and you got sick or something? I'd have no idea what was wrong with you. I'd have no clue how to take care of you. What dose to give you. What to tell the emergency doctors, when I rushed you to the hospital.”

The look of terrified worry on Henry's face formed a small, nauseous lump in Alexa's throat.

“Well, I can show you, if you want?” She said, smiling softly at him. “I just started this.” She told him, motioning to the equipment.

“I'd like that.” He replied, nodding and sitting down with her.

“All right.” Alexa grinned, wiggling in her spot. “So, I use this-” She held up an applicator between her fingers. “This is my Dexcom G-Six, glucose sensor and applicator, it pairs to my phone via Bluetooth.” She picked up her phone with her other hand, showing Henry the screen. “And an app I have on it. Through that, it checks my levels every five minutes. It tells me what my levels are, where they were and are heading.”

Henry nodded his head, listening intently. “All right. Where does it go?”

“It goes right here on my arm.” Alexa answered, using the corner of her phone to tap the back of her arm, before setting it down to pick up a single-use alcohol swab. “I need to clean the spot I'm going to put the sensor in, obviously.” She explained, ripping open the swab and cleaning the meaty area at the back of her arm. “While I do that, you want to do something for me?” She asked, cocking a brow at him.

“Of course, what do you need?” Henry asked, perking up.

“In that little pocket of my kit, there are over-patches—they'll help keep my sensor on my arm, they're different patterns.” She told him, with an amused smirk. “Why don't you pick one for me to put on it.”

Henry smirked back at her. “I can do that.” He nodded, pulling the five or six sealed patches out and filed through them, looking at the designs. “This one seems appropriate.” He decided, holding up a patch with cartoon-ish, blue, gray and black whales.

“Excellent choice!” Alexa agreed, picking up the applicator and pressing it to the sterilized area of her arm, hissing softly. “It's as simple as that really.” She said, setting the applicator aside, rubbing her finger around the edge of the initial adhesive. “Other than holding down on the button for a few seconds, to make sure the sensor and my phone pair.” She added, pressing down on it for a moment, then held her hand out for the over-patch, taking it from Henry and removing the clear film, to carefully seal it around the sensor.

“That one is done!” She giggled, wiggling her brows at him.

“I'm guessing you also have dietary needs.” Henry said, watching her fiddle with another device.

“I do have several things on my do not eat list, yes.” Alexa nodded, eyes on her task.

“Strawberries being one of them.”

“That's one of them, on the longer list.” She chuckled, looking up at him. “I'm generally on a low-carbs diet. A lot of sugary items and fried foods. Fruits, veggies, whole-grain, etc are great for me.” She listed off for him, watching the wheels of his brain turn through the blue of his eyes. “So, this is my insulin pump, Omnipod. It's a tubeless insulin pump that gives me three days worth of insulin, before I have to change it. My Dexcom and Omnipod talk to each other, so it knows how much insulin I need, without me having to do much of anything, besides making sure I'm eating and drinking right, and staying active.”

“That's great.” Henry nodded, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth as he watched her.

“So, this is a bit of a process.” She told him, opening a fresh Omnipod package. “I need to fill this syringe with about a hundred and thirty units of my insulin for the next three days.” She instructed him, opening the box with her Humalog insulin vial.

“You need to draw it straight out of the bottle?” He frowned, watching her use a alcohol swab and clean the top of the vial, before taking a syringe that was provided with her Omnipod out.

“Yes, unfortunately things like this aren't customizable.” Alexa answered, carefully twisting on the needle part of the syringe, drawing the plunger back, inserting the needle into the vial, then proceeding to draw the amount of insulin she needed into it. “Maybe, someday in the future.” She said, looking up at him, a small glitter of hope in her eyes. “Now that I have the insulin in the syringe, I just insert it here, into this little hole, and push it in, filling the pod for the next seventy-three hours and we wait for it to prime.”

“Where do you put this one?”

“I can put it on my arms, like my Dexcom, but on the opposite arm it's on. My thighs or my stomach. I usually prefer to have them both on the backs of my arms. But since we're on our honeymoon, I'm just going to pop it on my stomach.” She told him, tapping the screen of the Omnipod's control screen, recording where she was placing it, then stood up.

“It's easy standing.” She told Henry's expression, cleaning the spot on her stomach and securing the pod over it.

“Is that it?” Henry asked, as she sat down again, but leaning back slightly.

“No, now I need to let the Pod know it's in place, so it can insert the little tub that'll deliver my insulin.” She answered, tapping the control screen again, causing a couple soft clicks to fill the space between them, before a sharper one and her small jolt. “Now, it's done.” She smiled at him, taking an over-patch and securing it around the pump.

“That is quite the process.” He commented, shaking his head. “And you've been doing this since you were eight.”

“Mmhm.” She nodded, sighing softly. “Just second nature now. It's gotten easier over the years. Especially, with the new medications that have come out and the technology. So, who knows what science will come up with next!”

“A cure, hopefully.”

“That would be lovely.” Alexa nodded, a dreamy look on her face. “But I don't see that in my lifetime.”

“You never know.” Henry cooed, winking at her.

“True, I never thought I'd get married, and here I am.” She giggled, tucking away her equipment and zipping up her kit, before picking up the rubbish.

“What about your pens?” Henry asked, looking up at her.

“Oh, I don't need those, unless I'm not using my pump or my levels drop too low for it.” She answered, moving around him to exit the closet.

“But,” Henry climbed to his feet, following after her. “Why didn't you wear them yesterday, when we married?”

Alexa sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I didn't want them to be seen through my dress.” She confessed, biting her lip and looking at him over her shoulder. “So, I took them off and just monitored my levels though finger pricks and my pens.”

“And our flight home?”

“I was too tired to go through the process of putting them on.”

Henry sighed, cocking his head at her, a tender expression on his face. “I wish you had said something. I would have helped.”

“I know.” Alexa whispered, smiling at him. “I'm learning you're quite the attentive person, Henry Cavill.”

“I love taking care of those around me.” He replied, reaching out to touch her cheek with his index finger. “Especially my wife.”

“Mmm.” She blushed, nose wrinkling cutely.

The doorbell sounded, reminding them that breakfast had arrived for them. Henry opened the door for the room service butler, while Alexa headed out onto the veranda off the kitchen, making herself comfortable at the table there. Facing towards the glittering strip of beach and ocean, the call of seabirds as they swooped down for their own breakfasts.

“Isn't it lovely out?” Henry asked, coming out to join her.

“It really is.” She nodded, reclining in her seat and casting an eye over the trolley the butler was bringing out. “You picked quite the spread.” She commented, feeling her stomach rumble, looking over the plates of food.

Henry blushed slightly, taking a seat across from her. “Yeah, I get a bit of an appetite after jet-lag.” He admitted, nodding appreciatively at the butler, who stopped the trolley beside the table and excused himself. “That's a Mango and Banana smoothie from their menu, that I ordered for you, with your request of soy-milk.” Henry explained, motioning to the glass on the cart.

“I hope that's all right?”

“That's more than fine.” She assured him, grabbing her toast and oatmeal with a couple of banana slices in it. “They're both good for me.” She commented, picking up the cool and sweaty glass, taking a sip of the soy-milk smoothie and hummed with approval. “I don't remember the last time I had a mango, but that is delicious!” She smiled, setting the glass beside her bowl, then fixed her arctic-blue eyes on Henry.

“So, Husband, what do you want to do today?” She asked, picking up her spoon to dig into her oatmeal.

“I'm not sure.” Henry hummed, pausing in eating his fork full of his ham and cheese omelet. “We could just go about and check out the island.” He suggested, taking the bite and chewing, before sitting back for a moment. “You mentioned yesterday there's a lot of good walking trails and sites to see. Like, waterfalls.”

“Yeah.” Alexa nodded, mulling it over, nursing her smoothie. “We will have the film crew following us around, like lost puppies as well.” She reminded him, biting the corner of her lip. “Give us the moment to get used to them practically stalking us.”

Henry heaved a sigh, picking up the coffee pot and poured himself a fresh cup. “That's also true.” He replied, dumping a single sugar into it. “I'm used to a camera only following me around in a studio or a specific location. Not all day, every day. For every moment of my life.”

“For any entire year of our life.” She added, cocking a brow at him.

“Mmhm.” He nodded, sipping his steaming coffee. “Let's find a trail.” He said, digging his phone out of his pocket and pulling up Google.

Alexa slid her chair over closer to Henry and cocked her head over his shoulder to see his screen, watching him scroll through, best hiking trails in Tamarindo. “Oh, that one has a waterfall and a hot spring we could swim in.” She commented, pointing one of them out. “Be a good place to relax for a short bit, before we head back.” She suggested, looking up at Henry.

“I mean, I have to make sure my husband's old bones can make it back.” She teased, an impish smirk curling up the corners of her mouth as her blue eyes sparkled.

Looking at her, Henry pressed his lips together, his eyes both roguish and cool. “Ha-ha.” He replied, carefully knocking her with his shoulder, but grinned as Alexa giggled at him, resting her chin on his shoulder and hugging her arms around his torso.

Henry stared into her eyes, feeling his throat tighten with her body pressed against his, her smiling face close to his. Licking his lips, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, cutting off her giggle with soft and surprised gasp. Alexa's eyes flared, staring into Henry's, that were still open and looking at her, measuring her reaction to him kissing her. But she had done the same thing as she did on the altar the day before. Alexa returned his kiss, her hand twisting up the fabric at the back of his tank top and tugging him closer to her; her eyes fluttering shut.

Sighing softly, Henry's hand lifted to grip the back of Alexa's neck, pulling her against his body and holding her there as they deepened the kiss, lips moving slow and gentle. But it didn't last, as Henry got a creeping feeling of being watched and cracked an eye open, finding Riah stepping out onto the veranda with them, a broad grin on her face.

“The doorbell broken?” He asked, moving away from Alexa, feeling a protective bubble form in the pit of his stomach, resting a hand on her back, seeing Alexa's face flush bright red, hiding away from them, until she got control of herself.

“No.” Riah answered, unperturbed. “I used it. I just guess the two of you were too distracted to hear it, so I let myself in.” She explained, holding up a spare key to their villa. “Nice to see the two of you are getting comfortable with one another.”

“You can say that.” Alexa rasped, turning back towards the conversation, licking her lips. “So,” She looked down at her watch, then cocked her brow at the other woman. “You're early.”

“Yeah, we figured we'd come over and start setting up. Go over a few things.” Riah told her, unbothered as the cameraman from yesterday appeared from behind her. “This is Jesse, he'll be the cameraman following you around for a majority of your year together, unless something should come up.” She explained to Alexa and Henry, motioning to Jesse, who gave them a small wave and nod. “A large portion of the time, it'll just be Jesse filming you. Wherever you go, he'll be with you. Until you get home, that is.”

“Then, we get privacy, I hope.” Alexa commented, under her breath, picking up her smoothie to finish off what was left.

“Not completely.” Riah retorted, arching a brow at her. “We'll have at least one camera in all the rooms, but the bathroom, for obvious reasons. They'll roll until a certain point, then will be shut off and the footage will be edited for your privacy and the show's content.”

Henry glanced over at Alexa, hearing her quiet groan. “I suppose, it's what we signed up for.” He said, trying to sound confident.

“It's exactly what you both signed up for.” Riah reminded them, looking between him and Alexa. “So, what are the two of you doing today?” She asked, folding her arms. “Other than sucking face.” She added with a quip.

“We decided,” Henry replied, clearing his throat. “to go on a hike. There's a nice trail with a waterfall and hot spring we want to check out and enjoy.”

“Marvelous.” Riah grinned, excited to film the two of them on an outing. “Jesse will get set up and the two of you can just go about as if he's not even here.”

“Right.” Alexa nodded, staring into the bottom of her glass, before looking up at Henry, finding him gazing at her.

#henry cavill #viking-raider fics #Love at First Sight #HenryCavill #Love at First Sight *fic* #viking raider fics #arranged marriage #Fluff #Quasi-Slow Burn #Cute!Henry #type one diabetic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x You #henry cavill x y/n #Henry Cavill RPF

[autumnslance]

Year of the OTP - September 2023 - I Wrote This For You

("Meet the Family" has a...long draft I'm still not happy with after 2 years of Endwalker. So have some 885ish words of yearning instead.)

[A letter in nearly type-perfect cursive font, the envelope also containing a pressed white flower yet retaining its sweet scent, delivered surreptitiously via postmoogle to the top of a certain gunbreaker’s pack…]

This is not at all fair.

I toss and turn, staring into the darkened ceiling and wonder when I became so restless. So needy.

I sprawl across the mattress, too big for only myself, missing you. It’s only been hours since we parted, only last night that we held one another, but that doesn’t seem to matter.

It’s not quite an ache, but almost, and I’ve no other words to describe it, running up and down my arms, my legs. A need to be touching, to be holding—but there’s only empty air.

A very specific not-quite-heated-ache low in my abdomen, between my legs, a sensation that will not be sated except by your touch.

I roll over and bury my flushing face in a pillow.

I didn’t used to feel such things. I used to not understand what others meant when describing wants and aches and needs. It was surely an exaggeration. Hyperbole for poetry and songs.

Even when we first met, and others hurled themselves at you, insistent—even desperate—I rolled my eyes and thought they were overdoing it. Certainly, physical intimacy can be enjoyable, but so is a game of tag, or cards, or simply sitting together discussing a book. Handsome you are, but I was convinced they were playing it up to win your attention.

Then somewhere, somehow, though I didn’t mean to, along our long and winding way I fell for you. And it seemed as if my entire world shifted.

The gleam in your eyes, the crook of your smile, the gentle roughness of your hands, the steady beat of your heart in your warm chest when pulling me close. All of you is a conspiracy to rewire my every reaction.

I understand now what it means to melt after seeing the ways you look at me. You ask me to tell you what I want, voice low and rough, and the frisson it causes is not imaginary. It shivers through me now, even just imagining you leaning over my back, calloused fingers on my skin, puff of hot breath on my neck, the rumble in your voice pitched just so…

I flip over again. Still alone. 

I could never be mistaken for wanton. There’s still much I don’t understand. I still need to be coaxed and encouraged because this is all so new and a little embarrassing and a lot messy and I worry my inexperience, my need for guidance, just isn't enough to keep you.

I’ve come to realize there are times you neglect your own wants and needs to tend to mine. And while I am grateful for your attention and your patience, I need your happiness too. 

There’s my blush again, as I think about not just your happiness but your pleasure, in duet with mine. The clench of your fingers in my hair, the tension in your neck and jaw as you arch. The way you moan, or call my name.

Your pleased reactions please me. And gods, the thought of seeing, hearing, feeling them again brings a fresh wave of aching in my limbs, more heat pooling low.

I want you. I need you.

I didn’t used to feel this way.

I didn’t see you, after hours or days or weeks, and think about how much longer it will be until I can have you alone, and then in my bed. Until we’re holding, kissing, touching…

There’s so much more to us than this; after all this time, all we’ve been through together. Some days I only want to sit silently in the same room, each doing our own work or play, basking in your company, your presence in my life more than enough.

Then there are nights like this, when I realize oh no, it wasn’t hyperbole, wasn’t exaggeration. That another person, that you, can make me burn and those desires will be the most wonderful and terrifying sensations.

I miss you, though it’s barely been twelve hours since you kissed me goodbye.

And so, since I cannot sleep, here I am writing down all the ways you make me yearn.

How I am counting the time until I have you here again, wrapped in each others arms, breath catching as lips and fingers find those perfect spots we each know so well on one another’s skin, your voice rumbling in my ear, demanding I tell you what I need but it’s you, just you, moving against me, with me, in me, until we both sing.

I would never have written anything like this before you. I would never have dreamed of sending such words as a letter. But I need you to know how loving you has altered my internal chemistry, and that cannot wait until we are face to face once more.

For one thing, you know I will be too shy to say it aloud. I can see you in my mind’s eye, smiling as you imagine my blushing.

But we have ever connected over written words, so here are mine, for you to hold and read and reread and imagine me imagining you until we are together again.

#final fantasy xiv #lyn writing #lyn edits #YOTP 2023 #thancred waters #thancred x wol #wolcred #shippy nonsense #Aeryn Striker #demisexual wol still isn't sure how this happened #but she's gonna roll with it anyway

[jiracheer]

Ingo for “Here, take my blanket/jacket" please!

authors note: INGO,,,, MY WEAKNESS,,,,,,,,,,, I know you didn't specify which Ingo, so i went with warden ingo!! hope that's okay!!

I wanna give a special thank you to Lyon!! They were kind enough to proof read this for me!! <3

prompt: “Here, take my blanket/jacket." tags: fluff. It’s so fuckin sweet i felt like i was going to EXPLODE

You rubbed at your arms and blew hot air into your hands, feeling the tips of your fingers go numb at the action that was barely doing anything for you. They weren’t kidding when they said the Highlands were freezing cold.

Blinking over at the man who accompanied you to the cliffs in order to find salt for Professor Laventon, you watched as Ingo marched along with ease. He must’ve been so used to this type of weather… I mean, he did frequent here a lot with Lady Sneasler. And, didn’t he say his hut was here? You wondered what it was like to spend so many days in the cold.

But when the thought came, your mind drifted back to Irida.

“Ingo.” You disturbed the peaceful silence, drawing a hum from the odd man before you. “You know… I’ve always wondered how Irida copes with all this cold! Have you seen what she wears? Super cute… But isn’t she cold?” You picked up the pace, matching his steps and leaning slightly against him in hopes of soaking up his warmth. He felt like a furnace when you pressed against his arm, making him jolt.

“Lady Irida does have an interesting sense of fashion… but I suppose it is what makes her most comfortable. You and I both know she doesn’t cope well in the heat. Perhaps she runs at a higher temperature than we do. The whole clan probably does.” 

You nodded along to his explanation, despite finding it a bit odd. Nonetheless, you took it for what it was.

“Does the cold bother you? It doesn’t seem like it. Perhaps you should also don the same outfit she does!” A laugh sounded from you, causing Ingo to tilt his hat down in mild embarrassment. A part of him adored the sound of you laughing. It was unique in its own way and always left his lips jumping.

A rumble in his chest desperately wanted to sound. Laughing was a challenge nowadays, but at least smiling wasn’t too tough. Akari and Rei had taught him that with each and every battle they had with him. For Giritina's sake, even you got a smile out of him

“I don’t think my figure would fit such an attire, hero-”

“Y/N, Ingo. Just Y/N.” It would always bug you when he would call you ‘Hero.’ You just wanted to live your life normally in Hisui now that you were practically stuck there, but maybe, just maybe, after kicking Arceus’ ass again, you could convince the being who trapped you to let you go back home.; more specifically, to let you and Ingo go back home.

That is, if he even remembered what his home was. He seemed familiar but you could never recall who he was or what he did before Hisui.

“Ah. Yes. Y/N. My apologies.” He tilted his hat at you before readjusting it, allowing the rim to rest above his eyebrows with his hands tucking themselves on his back once more. Ingo was always so polite. “... And besides, I do believe pink isn’t my color.”

“Oh it so is! I’ll have to speak to Anthe about making you your own.” You elbowed him gently, grinning at the typically somber man. “I’ll make sure it’s modest, just for you.”

Now a grin was starting to pull at his own lips, and a huff of a laugh exited his nostrils with the shut of his eyes. “Of course, Y/N.”

And that was that. The conversation ended on a light note and the two of you continued on your merry way, stopping every so often to hit at the pink salt growing on the side of the mountain to toss into your basket. But as the sun slowly began to descend, so did the temperature. You couldn’t help but shudder and chatter your teeth as the hours went by.

Ingo was quick to catch onto this and his hand hovered over your shoulder before it would drop. He felt so awkward around you. Not in a bad way, no. He just wasn’t sure how to exactly act around you. You made him feel a certain way and it made his head hurt when he tried to think about it.

Lost in his thoughts Ingo didn’t even notice how a particularly harsh gust of wind almost blew you away, forcing you to grasp at the collar of your jacket in an effort to stay as warm as possible. Your nose and ears flared bright red, and your eyes watered from how harsh the ice particles were in the breeze. It was when you grabbed his arm for support did he snap himself out of his thoughts, almost leaping into the air when you squeezed his bicep. You stopped walking, gasping for some sort of breath.

The wind was so cold you could hardly breathe. 

“Y/N…?” Ingo supported you by grabbing your forearms, a frown forming on his face. “Arceus, you’re freezing!” With ease, he leaned back and shuffled off his jacket, throwing it over your shoulders and clasping the two buttons before drawing the collar closer to your face. “Here, take my jacket. It’ll keep you warm until we reach my hut.” His face was so close to yours. Your eyes fluttered open and met his own gaze.

The two of you just… stood there. Barely a single breath away from him, the tip of your nose brushed against his own and you leaned forward to hide your cold face in his shoulder. Your cheeks became a newfound red and it wasn’t because of the weather. He felt so firm and stable, and when your hands came to grasp at his tunic you gasped.

“Aren’t you c-cold? I can’t take your jacket!” Leaning up on your tippy toes, you grabbed more of the Warden’s clothing with a gasp. “You’ll get cold and sick, a-and-”

Gentle hands held yours and pulled them close to his face, cupping them in order to blow heated air onto them. You Immediately melted, eyelashes fluttering with a gaze that read heavily of the emotions you felt for him.

“I’ll be just fine, Y/N. Trust me. Now come, let’s get you someplace warmer… preferably with a bowl of stew.”

Keeping your hands in his, he walked ahead of you to shield you from the harsh winds. Along the easy, the two of you had the biggest smiles on your face…

… Even if Ingo was freezing his ass off.

#. 🥣 fics #pokemon #submas x reader #ingo x reader #warden ingo x reader #submas ingo x reader #pokemon x reader

[likea-black-widow-baby]

for the send me a character: Daisy Johnson!

Yes!!

First impression My true first impression of Daisy was before I watched the show. I just knew there was a character called Daisy Johnson who was Quake, she was at one point the director of SHIELD in the comics, and in one particular comic depiction she kinda looks like Rihanna. I'm not crazy I promise

Impression now An absolute legend. There are parts of the show where I find her a bit annoying (s1, s3), but even then she's usually right. Just reckless or intransigent. But that's part of her character and she wouldn't be the same without those flaws.

Favorite moment Ough there are a few. The first scene where she bursts out of the cocoon, the scene in season 4 where Hydra!May gives her terrigen and she says she's powerful enough to bring the whole place down, the hug between her and Jemma in 4x15, the scene where she goes to see Jemma with flowers and tells her she can call her whatever she wants, every moment with May.

Idea for a story Philindaisy and Daisy's relationships with Coulson and May separately are probably my favorite part of her character, so most of my story ideas regarding her feature Coulson or May. I've only ever written two MayDaisy fics, because tbh Book_Freak has that niche covered.

Unpopular opinion Probably that I think she sometimes takes her ideologies too far, and that I find that annoying to watch sometimes. I don't think she was right all the time, and there were even times when she was right and I think she went about things wrong. That's an unpopular opinion in the AoS fandom, which is mostly composed of people who think she never did anything wrong ever.

Favorite relationship Oh god all of them. But the ones I actively seek out content for the most are MayDaisy, and CoulsonDaisy. I refuse to use Skoulson because I've seen people shipping them romantically in that tag.

Favorite headcanon There's this wonderful fic by agentmmayy on AO3 where the team takes Coulson to be healed in Wakanda. It's called tell me it'll be okay and it's one of my favorite AoS hc's ever. It brings together the Wakandan characters and the SHIELD team, and takes advantage of all that technology that was obviously at the team's disposal when Coulson was dying. I guess that's not Daisy-specific, but it's great. OH, my actual favorite Daisy hc is that she purrs when she's happy. Like, her powers cause her to vibrate a little as she breathes when she's feeling content, producing that adorable noise and rumbling sensation <3

#daisy johnson #agents of shield #mundie says things #it's an ask!

[chasm-connected]

tagged by @beyondthetemples-ooc!

The rules are simple - find a sentence, or excerpt, that includes the words you’re given and paste it in, and include a link to the finished story if you want. But honestly, these are guidelines at best - do what you want.

My words to find:

Fly, Green, Independent, Fixated, Magical, Incoherent, Copy, Mental, Fire, Glowing

I’m tagging: uhhh i think everyone i know who would do this has already been tagged, please feel free to do this if you want

Your words are:

-Egg -Epiphany -Pastry -Hot -Rock -Fox -Feather -Bullet -Child -Bake

Synonyms allowed if these are strange, I don't know what I'm doing, let's a-go

LMAO I THINK ALL OF THESE ARE KETUCARI LETS GOOOO

i cheated and some of these are short blurbs that came along with an image but i made sure that i was picking ones that were a few paragraphs long at least.

Fly: Royale was watching the sky herself now. "Keep looking up at them. Soon you might feel... a pull. Let it take you up."

Royale began floating, a golden light covering her. [Airborne]

"fly" itself was in this one but this part was more interesting.

Green: I apparently have not mentioned the word green in years and using types of plants as a synonym feels like cheating.

Independent: sorry, can't find this one

Fixated: "Focus here, child," Ante spoke. An army of Deads raised their head in the space beyond space, but the cub couldn't lift his physical head by his own will. "You're safe here. Blink twice if you can hear me." [i'd encourage your smiles, i expect you won't cry]

this one is in the middle of a storyline, content warning for heavy subjects but mostly child abuse if you read that whole storyline

Magical: Riley padded forward, looking into the case. An electric violin sat there, clear and shining. Riley picked it up and the bow with it and laid back, turning it over in their fingers. They never learned proper magic, both to the chagrin and relief of their captors, and had to fight their way out with bare fists, teeth and claw. They tried to draw from some source within themself, and... nothing.

Leslie looked on, expecting.

Riley sighed, a rumble in their throat and rosin freshly on their bow. [i don't know if this one is about me or the devil]

Incoherent: I don't think I've used the word, exactly, but the word incoherent describes a good chunk of this specific lit so I'm linking it. TW for torture and mention of culling dragon children. [this ain't a noose, this is a leash]

Copy: I REALLY WISH THIS CAME UP LATER IN THE MONTH BECAUSE UH. I'M GOING TO BE DOING AN ART PIECE WITH SHADOW COPIES LMAO. IT'S PROBABLY GOING TO HAVE A LIT ACCOMPANIMENT. I can't find this in my recent/last couple of years of work though.

Mental: “He’s Talik,” Viral’s voice was a low song, so deep in his ear that it was in his head. “He gets control of your mind and makes you bet. Why do you think we keep coming back? Take him on and I’ll halve your price.”

“You’re not as quiet as you think,” Ante’s voice echoed, and the two scattered. [sell your fortune to me],

Fire: “Oh, shit,” Twe’s back arched, alarmed, and he scrambled to take off his mask. “No, you - you see, you’ve got it wrong. It’s just theatre, Your Glory. Cin’s been drenched in a chemical, she wouldn’t burn.”

“Just the forest,” Evermore averted her gaze. Kandriya could take it, but the idea of an intentional forest fire in a zone that burned so easily weighed heavily on her. [when the wine drinks itself]

Fire was in almost every piece I tried to find things in, i had to pick something Interesting

Glowing: The creature was short and stout, covered in spines and horns. They were the color of metalworking, glowing in parts like the fire of the profession itself. [what's up ghosts]

[mythandlaur]

Prompt number: 1 - "I chose you" Fandom: Warframe Rating: Teen Warnings/Tags: Discussion of brainwashing/brain upload Characters: Kepler (OC), Cephalon Ordis / Ordan Karris, other OCs mentioned (belonging to @apprenticenerd & @buraidragon) WC: 1,307 Additional Notes: Requires some knowledge of the cephalon fragments, set between Apostasy Prologue and TNW. Dear god I'm actually going to try and do this.

prompts here

--

"...How long have you known?"

It's...odd, hearing that voice coming from the orbiter speakers. It's not exactly the same as it had been in the recordings--it was still covered in layers of artificial filters, making it buzz a bit around the edges like a bad comm signal. But he isn't faking his usual voice anymore.

That's all 'Ordis' was, really. Fake. She's sure of it.

"Couple months," Kepler mumbles from her pile of blankets on the floor of her personal quarters. Her kavat sits on her feet, its head swiveling back and forth as if keeping watch over her. It's appreciated, if not necessary. "Jhia found one of the...log things. I realized I had more. We asked Glace and they told us the rest."

"I see," Ordis--Ordan--says. It's impossible to tell how he feels about it from his voice alone. "It...makes sense. Tell them I am not upset. You deserve to know."

Kepler buries her face deeper into her blankets, hoping he can't see her grimace from his angle. Ordis had told her once there was only one camera in the personal quarters, right above the door, just so he could know where she was if he needed.

Maybe she shouldn't have said anything. Ordis had been glitching badly, leading up to a slight shift in his tone he'd tried to downplay as nothing, just requiring a system reset. Kepler had blurted it out before she could think, I know what happened. I know who you are. The knowledge had been digging at her since Glace had told her about it. Though the initial anger and frustration she'd felt had faded, there was still something left, heavy and sick at the pit of her stomach.

Maybe that's why she couldn't leave the matter alone.

"...I remember now. Glace spoke of my past with me." A quiet, rumbling laugh from the deep stranger's voice. "More than spoke, in fact. Did you know New Loka found a fossil with a very...specific skeletal feature on Earth? They tried to display it. Glace stole it from them. Buried it on the Plains of Eidolon."

It's strange how she can still notice Ordis' usual tone in the voice somewhere. The way it rambles on, the ups and downs of the pitch. It's not inconceivable that it's the same voice, and that just makes her feel worse.

He lets out a sound like a sigh, a rush of static. "It is...shameful that I have hidden this from you, but it was for your own safety. I am a broken, mangled thing, and to dream of being someone better, someone worthy of redemption...it seems much kinder for all of us. But I know you must have questions."

"Just one."

Kepler's throat feels dry. She's never been one to not say exactly what she means at all times, even to her own detriment, but this question, this thing that's nearly crushed her under its weight, growing bigger and bigger the more she thinks about it...it feels impossible to get the words out.

So she does it like she does everything else, quick and blunt and loud.

"Do you hate us."

The long pause that follows threatens to make Kepler crumble. She faces that feeling defiantly, sitting up in her blanket nest and glaring at where she thinks the camera is, face stern.

But he still doesn't answer. Her mask threatens to wither away. She knew it. She knew it. Glace had said otherwise, and Jhia had shown some doubt, but she'd told them, the L--Natah--she had shown she hated them, hadn't she, why wouldn't he despise them when he had so much more reason to--

"Of course not."

Somehow, the softly-spoken answer just makes Kepler's face twist as anger burns up her throat.

"No!" She hits the ground with balled fists, startling the kavat. "I don't want you to tell me what they told you to say! I--I want you to tell me the truth!"

(Why is her voice cracking? Why is there a lump in her throat? Her heart threatens to pound out of her chest, and tendrils of green Void smoke curl from her fingers).

He doesn't respond immediately. The silence is suffocating. Kepler has to fill it. "You--you've been forced to babysit us Void freaks for how long because you got fucking brainwashed into caring about us and you don't want to say it but I can take it just say it! Just tell me how much you--"

"Operator."

It's firm, cutting off Kepler mid-rant and demanding silence without sounding angry. It suddenly doesn't seem so strange to think he'd been a leader of his people at one point.

"I am not the Lotus. There is no way for us to know why she left. But Ordis, at least, will not abandon you."

Kepler suddenly feels very small. "But what about you?"

She bears the silence this time. When he speaks, his voice is softer than she could've imagined it being, even as Ordis.

"...It is true that, in the beginning, my love for you was manufactured, a law of code and light binding my very soul. But even as these chains fall away, I still see you are not Orokin. You are not the ones who did this to me. You are their victims as much as the Beast was. When Lua fell, I felt only joy, even if it would have been scandal to speak of it. When you were gone, and I found the pieces of that mirror, and I saw this monstrous ghost staring back at me...I chose to cast it off for your sake. I chose this life. I chose to be Ordis. I chose you."

The smoke that had been filling the air around Kepler dissipates, cutting a thread of tension, snuffing the fuse of the powder keg in her chest. All the fight goes out of her at once.

"Even if Ordis is merely a dream," he continues, "I know that his care for you three is true to my own. You did not deserve any of this."

Kepler lies back down in her blanket pile. She hides her face for a different reason this time.

"Neither did you."

"...It was for the best." She notices he doesn't actually acknowledge what she'd said. "Just as it's for the best that I hide again, pretend again. Even if you know the truth, I..." His voice turns strained. "I cannot trust myself to fulfill my duties adequately like this, and it would be cruel to expect you to trust me."

Kepler doesn't respond. Maybe she should say she trusts him, but...she isn't sure she does, really. She trusts that he's telling the truth, but in the end, Ordan is a stranger.

It takes some weight off her shoulders to know not every guardian figure she has secretly hates her, though.

"...Go ahead." She knows his audio sensors are sharp enough for him to hear her even when she's mumbling into her blankets. "And...thanks."

He doesn't say anything else, and Kepler assumes he's gone. She's seen him do this before even if she hadn't known what it actually was for; a maintenance cycle to restore an uncorrupted backup taking a couple of hours. The next morning, he'll be confused, and she'll tell him what missions she'd done yesterday so he can log them again, and they'll both act like nothing happened.

She's shut her eyes, resigning herself to stewing in her own thoughts, when he speaks again, the volume on the speaker much lower.

"I...am proud. Of you three. Tell Jhia that, too."

Kepler opens her eyes, only to see him dimming the lights in her personal quarters. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand. It's a stupid reaction. She's stupid.

But still.

"I will."

#warframe #fictober22 #cephalon ordis #ordan karris #my writing #c:kepler #others may be really short in comparison i just went off #really wanted to do something platonic with this prompt to counter how it'd probably usually be read #v:teeth eyes and burning hair #may change that one later

[druckkugelschreiber]

I got tagged my @mxkelsifer for WIP Wednesday and I know it's not wednesday but the sudden surge of Loghain love inspired me to post a rather old scene of Nydhena and Loghain bonding shortly after she recruits him into the wardens.

I mean it's technically not a WIP anymore, because who knows when and if I'll ever get back to it, but it's Loghain Love Friday, because I said so and Nydhena and Loghain are insufferably cute and always make me happy.

I stood on a rock, guarding over the others bathing in the river below. There weren’t any darkspawn in the immediate area, but they were close enough to whisper at the edges of my consciousness. Close enough for me not to risk all of us being unarmed at once. 

Armour clanked behind me. That could only be Loghain. Most men looked ridiculous in such huge and bulky armour. Cailan had looked ridiculous. Like a boy playing at war, but Loghain didn’t.

“Can you sense them?” he stopped next to me, arms crossed, looking even more like Shale’s little brother. 

“Yes, but they are not close… yet. I assume if I can sense them, they can sense me but with the archdemon I’m not sure if they’ll come for us”, I turned to look at him, the stark line of his nose. “Have the dreams started yet?”

“The dreams?”

“There are very specific Warden nightmares to be had during a blight”, my eyes followed the flow of the river again. 

“Yes”, his voice got sombre, “they have started.”

“Are you alright?” I glanced at him. The sunlight hit his hair just right and showed that it was an even deeper black than my own. 

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You worry about me?”

“Of course.” 

He shifted his weight. “They aren’t all that different from the nightmares I had since Ostagar.”

This shitty war. Leaving nightmares with all of us. “I’m sorry.”

To describe his expression as flabbergasted would have been an understatement. “Whatever for?”

“Ostagar was horrible for everyone, you included”, I turned to face him, “I can’t imagine what it must have been like, leaving them all to die. Not only Cailan.”

Loghain’s shoulders sagged. “I know every single name of the soldiers who died on that field.”

I averted my gaze. “I don’t know how to do it.”

“Send them all to their deaths?” Loghain’s voice was the softest I had ever heard it.

“Yes, they are only here because of me, if I hadn’t”-

“If we don’t fight the blight now, it’ll catch up with all of us eventually. You couldn’t have spared them, you could have only made them live a little longer, not even years maybe”, Loghain’s hand landed on my shoulder and I looked at him more out of surprise than anything. “Nydhena.” Hearing my name from his lips made my spine tingle. “You are doing the right thing.”

“I’m not sure if you saying that inspires confidence”, I said with a crooked smile. 

Loghain scoffed, “take that from the man who fought in the rebellion not the one who messed this up”, he vaguely waved around, “but even then I did win the military part of the civil war.”

My smile grew more genuine. “Careful, if you show humour people might actually like you.”

A dry chuckle escaped him. “I doubt we run into the danger of that happening anytime soon.” He nodded towards the river where all of the others were watching us. 

Once they noticed my attention they quickly went back to whatever they were doing, except Leliana who was actually glaring. 

I glared right back. “Judgy bunch, aren’t they?”

Loghain’s hand still rested on my shoulder, a calming, grounding weight. I barely resisted the urge to lean into him. “I don’t think they are judgier than most.”

“Well, I think they are judgier than most”, I sighed, “thank you for coming up here.”

“Of course, I heard your argument with Wynne the other night”, his voice got that soft rumble again. “I wanted to make sure you have someone to talk to. Someone who knows the burden of command.”

Being surprised by and around Loghain was rapidly turning into a thing. “I kind of thought you hated me.” 

Loghain shook his head. “I don’t hate you. I respect you. More than I can say.”

My heart lightened. “It means a lot coming from you. Even elven children in the alienage heard stories about the rebellion and Loghain MacTir.” 

Loghain raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Yes… so how do you do it? Send your soldiers off to war?”

“I remind myself what I’m fighting for”, he squeezed my shoulder, “you are fighting not only for Ferelden but all of Thedas.” 

“No pressure then.”

He chuckled. “None at all.”

Both of us grinned in faint amusement. 

“I need to thank you", Loghain said with more importance than that sentence should carry.

“I think I can only take so many surprises from you in one day.”

His lips actually curled into a miniscule smile. You know I had never found human men all that attractive, but there was something about Loghain’s permanently sour expression lifting to reveal that twitch of lips, that demanded my attention and more. “You stood up for me in front of all of your friends. That demands respect.”

“Well, you are a person and you deserve to be treated like one. Also, I meant what I said”, I scowled. 

“I believe that now. And for that I want to thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you think she’ll murder me if I keep my hand on your shoulder any longer?” Loghain said, his gaze settling on Leliana.

I snorted, “maybe.”

With that small smile, that made everything seem so much easier, he pulled his hand away. 

#loghain mac tir #dragon age #wip wednesday #Nydhena Surana #Nydhena x Loghain