#to be clear: love the show. would die 4 it.
fallout tv show ghoul discussion
the only thing i dislike about the show is their retcon of ghoul lore- everything else is a banger i had a great time
but the lore changing the ghouls baffles me, as it retcons and changes literally every other game in the franchise. its funny, im not mad about it, im ok with the show having different lore than the games. i just hope they make it clear that its an AU kind of thing haha
mainly because if someone gets introduced to the series from the show, and they go off to play the games, theyre going to be confused.
so, what are the changes? well-
in fo3, theres an entire side mission involving the underworld, where the ghouls there really hammer in that the rumors like; that they regen and so can only be killed by headshots, that they eat people, that they can go feral at any point, and that they're zombies.
all of this is just propaganda spread by the brotherhood and bigots to justify murder and genocide.
none of it is true. they bleed and die like anyone else. but in the show, these things are not rumors, and they are completely true. cooper constantly has to take this drug from a vial that prevents him from going feral. theres no explanation on where this medicine came from, who makes it, whats its made out of, etc.
so, while in the game, turning feral is unknown, seemingly at random (theories range from genetics, lack of socialization, insanity, radiation exposure, and time) and ghouls dont just- randomly turn feral. but in the show its enevitable and therefore the hate towards them is justified.
the only things that are special about them is that they; age much, much slower than non-ghouls, that they can heal faster using radiation. (to my knowlege, they still need to be patched up. they do not just regen. they can still get shot to death, or maimed. they just heal a little faster.) and they need more potent drugs, as it doesnt affect them as strongly (mentioned in fo3 by some ghouls in a subway)
the changes made in the show heavily changes the stories of a few characters and places in the entire series.
for fo3: changes the entire underworld. these ghouls cannot leave this place. if they do, they're shot and killed immediately by the brotherhood nearby. they discuss how they're discriminated against.
in the fo3 dlc, point lookout, the ghoul there presumably hasnt left the manor he lives in for well over 200 years. he wouldnt have access to these vials.
tenpenny tower. their ban on ghouls would be justified then.
the entire narrative involving the water purifier and putting the serum in that will kill off all mutants. with the changes the show makes, the decision whether or not you do this has no weight and eradicating mutants becomes justified.
for fallout new vegas: dean domino. he hasn't left the Sierra Madre in over 200 years. he wouldnt have access to these vials either and would have probably gone feral a long time ago.
for fallout 4: diamond city. diamond city's ban on ghouls wouldnt be an issue anymore. since in the show, ghouls cant die aside from headshots, the ghouls being thrown out into the wastes to the elements wouldn't really be as heavy of an issue.
(i cannot comment for fallout 1 and 2, as i am not as knowledgable about the ghouls in those two games. feel free to add on in reblogs if you know more about them than i do)
i love the show, i think its awesome. im basically consuming it now with the idea that its canon -within its own story and lore- and is separate from the game itself.
cooper is a badass and the changes work for the show itself, not so much the entire series. which is fine in my eyes.
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On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”
A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2
One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?
In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are.
So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”?
My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.”
If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression.
Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity.
Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity.
You know who does?
Aziraphale.
And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.)
In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.
I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation.
Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”
So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.”
And most likely a cottage.
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
- Maya Angelou
Support the SAG-AFTRA strike and other unions. Trust @neil-gaiman. Register to vote if you haven’t yet. Hold yourself and others accountable with compassion. Read books. Keep doing the work. Rest. Then watch Good Omens 2 again.
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♡ What's Coming Next For You In Love ♡
P I L E 1 ~ P I L E 2 ~ P I L E 3
♡ P I L E 1 ♡ All I really need to know is that you believe
Ten Of Pentacles, Seven of Wands, Nine of Pentacles (Reversed), Eight of Cups (Reversed), Page of Swords
Bottom of the Deck: Knight of Swords
This Relationship will be a prosperous one and this person will fight for you. They will let you know that you are a top priority for them. I'm getting that you will be so very dedicated to this person coming in BUT you are being warned to no lose yourself in them and to no be too in your own head when it comes to this relationship. It's fine to daydream and to be in love but it's important to remember that you matter, too. Your family and friends are just as important as your cutie pie.
Something you'll love is how intellectual this person is and will love talking to them. I can see you two sitting closer together and talking and smiling. I have a feeling that this person will not want to be open at first or will be scared to let their guard down. They may have had people tell them to "tone it down", so they won't show all of themself all at once but once open up, they'll really see how special they are.
I'm also getting a channeled message saying that some of you need to let go of an ex before getting with someone new. If you don't you could lose someone really great.
Channeled song: I Would Die 4 U by Prince
I'm not your lover // I'm not your friend // I am something that you'll never comprehend // No need to worry // No need to cry // I'm your Messiah and you're the reason why //
♡ P I L E 2 ♡ Come out of hiding, I'm right here, beside you
The Star, Seven of Wands, Strength, The Sun, Page of Wands (Reversed)
Bottom of the Deck: Nine of Cups
In the past, you may have been in lack luster relationships; relationships that lacked passion or chemistry. WELL, THAT'S ALL IN THE PAST NOW BAYBEEE!!! The person coming in for you is a wish come true. Like, imagine the person you wrote about in your diary in middle school but so much better. They are all you ever wanted and more! For many of you, I would even say this is a soulmate connection! (AMAZING!) In this next connection, this person will see you as their hope and their inspiration; you are their muse. Not only will you being in love with your person, but you will also be best friends with your person!! I'm getting that a lot of you already know who this person is.
This person has some serious "golden retriever" energy! You may take trips together too but it's not just the both of you but with friends too because you guys are like a big family and you all just love being together. I'm getting that this person could be a Leo (Sun, Moon, Rising, or Venus). I keep coming back to the "golden retriever" energy! They just have a bright personality, and they are so warm and inviting. They are just so fun to be with and they are the life of the party. This person also has such a weak spot for you. You're their kryptonite. They will do anything for you and will fight to keep you if they have to. I feel like even when the two of you are official, they want to still prove to you that they desire you and they still care about you. They want to make it really clear that they want you always and always will.
Channeled song: You Matter To Me from Waitress: The Musical by Sara Bareilles ft. Jason Mraz
because you matter to me // simple and plain // not much to ask from somebody // you matter to me // I promise you do, you // you matter too // I promise you do // you'll see // you matter to me //
♡ P I L E 3 ♡
Ace of Pentacles, Five of Cups, Queen of Cups (Reversed). Six of wands, Ace of Wands
Bottom of the Deck: The Chariot
What seemed like a hot fling, is going to quickly change into a stable relationship. I can hear you now. "What do you mean? I'm having fun! I don't want anything serious right now!" Well, too bad. This love is ready for you, and I think you're ready for it. You may be scared of settling down with someone because of a past heartbreak. I'm getting that this person was kind of a bum, for lack of a better word. This person was not good for you nor were they good to you and they really did some damage when they were in your life. They didn't give you what you needed in the relationship. They didn't provide balance to the relationship. You gave all of yourself to this person, only to receive nothing in return. It won't be like that with this new person. This is a love worth celebrating and trust me when I say that you will feel celebrated by your beau. They are going to show you off and remind you of how important you are, how special you are. They are going to remind you of how much they love you and care for you every single chance that they get. While writing this, I'm channeling that your person wants to say that you have a beautiful heart and they are going to keep it safe. Know that this person sees being with you as a great victory.
OMG, I hope you like a flirt because they are gonna make you blush like you committed a sin! It will be like two teenagers in love but with more stability and maturity. This will be something very long term. This person is dedicated to you and your relationship. I'm getting that not all of you are the type to want to get married but for those of you who do, expect to hear those wedding bells ringing! The colors, emerald green, gold, pink, white and a cool grey could be significant to you.
Channeled Message: "Baby, our love is older than this life we live in now. It dates back further than our human minds can comprehend. Don't run from this; from us. We choose each other every lifetime. Don't let this time be any different."
Channeled song: Still by Tamia
Feels like the first time we met // When I kissed // and I told you I love you //
If you want a personalized reading, you can get one on Etsy at PinkAmethystTarot
Page Divider by: @eloquentreverie
LEGAL DISCLAIMER:
FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY.
THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied.
these readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services.
My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.
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what the fuck even happened episode 8????
like, plotwise i know what happened but like there’s so much new info i’m processing.
rei dresses like that not for the professionalism of the job, but because his father expects him to look high-class even when he’s murdering people
anna’s musical talents literally traumatize children.
rei’s father has a god complex about his bloodline
the “organization” is more or less run by rei’s father. this is why kyutaro said that rei should know best what happens when you betray the organization, because every childish rebellion was treason on the organization.
rei doesn’t get too close to kazuki because the consequence if he does are dire.
side note: when rei says he has something to protect, he’s not just talking about miri. there is no mistaking that kazuki is precious to rei.
when rei is asked “did you find true belonging on the outside” he denies it. this is probably because he wants to protect kazuki and miri but it could also be because rei genuinely believes that he doesn’t truly belong in their little family. i believe this changes by the end when rei sees that kazuki and miri were waiting for him just to see him smile.
this is from a few other posts i saw, but rei’s mission was a warning. a peek into the consequences of forming attachments.
a continuation of point six, we see rei standing in his family home, feeling completely estranged while he’s on the phone with kazuki and miri being told to be back by dinner.
rei never seemed to be affected by his job before. but in the car with ogino he expresses shock at the picture of his mentors murdered wife. and the picture seems to be taken in the goriest way. rei is opening his heart to his family and as a consequence, he has to face the reality that he is not just killing, but taking lives.
“for the concept” WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN???? this man makes me so uncomfortable he is so goddamn psychotic. he definitely kills for fun even though he pretends its some big philosophical thing. essentially he was saying people exist to die. also his fucking blue eyed stare 🧿👄🧿
WAIT WAIT WAIT THEYRE TOTAL FOILS OF EACH OTHER. rei and his mentor that is. they both have that single slut strand.
miri is extremely insightful. she notices when someone close to her is hiding their dissatisfaction with life - what she calls “sadness”. her mom was dissatisfied with her life as a single mother and rei is dissatisfied with living under his father’s boot.
rei didn’t tell ogino his mentor’s last words because they weren’t meant for him (but probably also cuz ogino is a creep sob). rei “didn’t hear” anything because the words were directed to someone already gone.
this is less a plot point but more a personal analysis - i was sorta hoping that kazuki would show up during the fight and save rei, and he does! he saves rei, but not during the fight because that’s not really where rei was struggling. rei needed to be saved from his own belief that he was irredeemable, and kazuki did that perfectly bu showing rei that no matter what, he’ll be there. unconditionally. i mean, the man didn’t even ask about all the blood on his suit. (another i won’t ask i wouldn’t tell moment)
kazuki cut rei’s hair and decorated the apartment. when rei said “but then you suddenly started cleaning”, he’s saying that he didn’t care about kazuki until kazuki taught him how to care. when kazuki barged into rei’s apartment and cleaned the blood stained hands of a child assassin, he also cleared a space for himself in rei’s life. (side note: of course the undercut was kazuki’s idea)
“you think we can change?” god this was such a good quote. and the way kazuki doesn’t put up a front and say “of course” because he’s trying to figure out if he can change too, so he just says “dunno” but its so sincere and hopeful. i love the dichotomy of kazuki not knowing if he can change because he’s spent the past 4 years trying not to and rei not knowing if he can change because he doesn’t know how to. at the root, it’s because they both see themselves as unforgivable.
continuation of points six and eight, rei smiles when he’s home with his family.
oh my god the angst just doesn’t stop.
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Gone Too Young _ Part 4 = Collab
[Human & Demon!Alastor x Male BFF!Reader] - Platonic
Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 (here)
My collaborator: @blubugg13
As the two of you got older, you had more jobs on your agenda and Alastor was busy with his internship at the local news stations so he could get a feel of being a news reporter, later a radio host, just as you suggested
You knew him well, turns out he does like the thought of being a radio host, he had the idea of you being his co-host or a guest from time to time, even an assistant! That way, your job is stable enough and he would be able to help you finanically whenever you needed without you complaining like you do now
His mother had the better idea. Adoption. While you were off the list, surely you’d make an exception when it was his mother was wanted to do it. He could see as clear day that you had a soft spot for his mother. Hard to reject motherly love, he’ll agree. It was your Christmas gift, you’ll have a family
You never showed up to the secret meet up you two arranged. Alastor waited under the freezing cold, the streets were a buzz, he watched families go up and down. Perhaps you were working a bit later, you did say you might not be able to make it and apologized beforehand. He waited a bit longer. You still didn’t show up. He had to return home
He didn’t know, the ambulance that he passedby carried your deceased body
Christmas day came by, you weren’t there. The orphanage cancelled the adoption plan his mother registered. Before they agreed! They said it would be the perfect surprise even! Everyone was in on it but you
Something in his gut told him, something’s wrong. He ran to the orphanage and asked for you, maybe you were sick and couldn’t tell him. Yeah. When he got there, he wasn’t allowed entry, the director came to the door personally to inform him you leave town for an internship, some wealthy businessman offered you that and you took it and left
“When will he be back?” Alastor recalled asking.
Yet there was no solid answer.
“A few days, I’m sure.” Your sister figure answered without looking at him. He caught her outside while shopping.
“I think like a month. Not sure.” Your coworker shrugged.
“He’s sleeping though.” One of the little ones you take care of spoke when he sneaked into the orphanage to see you.
“Maybe never, you never know.” One of your employer said.
“Stop asking for him! Mind your own business!” The director stopped him in his tracks.
But you were his business. He was your best friend and you were his. Why can’t he know where you went and when you’ll be back? Why does it feel like everyone but his mother and he know something about you?
Then he caught it while listening in on some workers chat while taking a break outside the last factory your worked at. The horrifying truth of your disappearance
“That kid Alastor’s back?”
“Yeah, he’s asking about him again.”
A sigh. “Can’t we just tell him what happened? It was an accident.”
“Are you crazy?! Who would want to know their friend ended up like that?!”
“Besides, the orphanage director already said to keep quiet about it.”
“I mean, it’s brutal.”
“I’ll say. Getting your arm rolled into the machine like a piece of meat, then die from blood loss.”
“I still get nightmares from that day.”
“Christmas day horror. It was even worse for that guy that accidentally bumped into him, right?”
“Yeah, Joe quit his job and just disappeared.”
“But I heard he was a roadkill somewhere.”
“Wow, that’s like karma.”
“Crazy sh*t happens everywhere…”
Alastor never ran that fast in his life. His smile fell and tears rained, the weather seemed to echo with the truth he learned, it rained, poured heavily. He ran into the forest and screamed till his voice gave out
No way… No way. NO WAY. NO WAY! NO WAY IN HELL!
He clenched as he fell to his knees. How could they keep such a secret to him? Everyone. Every one of them lied to him. Because he was some kid. Because you were just an orphan? Why? Why didn’t anyone tell him?
Unlike the others, he told his mother the truth he learned. Those adoption papers that sat on her desk in the study room were put away into a drawer, locked up. His mother soon fell ill from griefing and the shock, passing soon after then
Now when he walked the same roads and saw the people you helped, he saw red. That rage boil within him. Who knew and didn’t care? Who ignored your tragic death?
Without anything to ground him, he only had his job as the new radio host. A grand start!
“Welcome, everyone! I am Alastor, now your new radio host! You might have remembered me from other channels when I was still a young lad, haha! I’m here to stay! But regrettably, I have to start with recording some distrubing and tragic news. There seems to be a killer on the loose. So everyone be sure to lock your doors and windows at all times, you never know when the killer will strike.”
Note: A bit short but... That concludes the parts for the human Alastor and Reader~ Next up are the ones for the demon version and in Hell~
Circe Y.
My Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)
@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @boredwithlifeatthispoint @mysterypotatoink
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fic rec friday 58
hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.
The Value of a Moment by @a-fools-errand
When Lance’s previously obsolete skills in language suddenly become very useful, he finds himself wondering why aliens can’t account for the fact that humans, particularly him, need sleep and would prefer linear timelines.
(Or: an Arrival AU because I love that movie)
yall OBSESSED does not begin to cover it. i have never read a fic where lance was so goddamn cool. and in like. the insanest of ways?? like of course lance is a polyglot but THIS....this is a whole new level. i havent even finished it fully yet but like god this thing is so fucking cool. if ur looking for a longfic stop looking
2. Rest Stop by @flaming-potato-arsonarson
Lance wasn't like the rest of the world.
And he had never had a loving mother tell him it made him stronger for it. So he told himself, gathering up his courage and grit to face a world of winged humanity, when he, in fact, has no wings and turns into a mermaid instead.
A world that wants him to die.
So he'd keep this secret like a knife in his boot, a sharp weapon until he died on his own terms. Not because of who he was.
Except, Team Voltron isn't so sure why Lance is all rough edges and sharp points about showing off his wings. Or acting like a member of the Flock in general. It's clear he cares for them, but he's never shown an intimate part of him.
Until he has to.
oh god this has gotta be one of my CLASSIC fics. read it a few dozen times. i read it right when it came out, six ish years ago (goddamn), i can remember curling up in my old bunk bad and eating this up as the hours ticked by. i was HOOKED. my jaw was dropped my eyes were glued. could not get enough. if youre looking for mermaid lance with a twist....brother this is it
3. Looking for Rain by @thewriter2
Like most things, it starts with the little things: his smile, his confidence, his talent. Eventually, all these little things add up to one big thing that threatens to crash over them like a heavy rain. But, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing.
Maybe something beautiful would come from it.
A 5+1 (really a 10+1) of Lance and Keith falling in love.
oh god guys..... @thewriter2 knows how to fucking haunt you. if a 10+1 (!!) isnt enough for you, i want you to know this line has been echoing in my head since i first read: "He looks at you like you’re a storm and he’s a desert desperate to drown." UM??? EXCUSE ME???? SIMILE OF ALL TIME ACTUALLY???? keith being so so visibly obviously in love with lance is my actual roman empire shit never leaves my mind
4. Astronauts by @thewriter2
When they entered the Blue Lion, Keith was Lance’s rival--the person Lance was working so hard to surpass. But slowly, Lance found himself thinking of Keith less as a rival and more as something close to a friend. So of course, Lance’s traitor of a heart decided that it would be Lance’s kind of friend that it would fall in love with.
tags to sell you: "keith is a dork but lance loves him anyway" (dorky keith my beloved), "hunk is an a+ friend" (yes he is), "lance is a lovesick fool" (yeah), and "allura is older sister goals" yes yes YES you get it. and like....while keith pov is my favourite to write by far, lances pov as he realises he is in love....that will always hold such a special special place in my heart
5. his own worth by frogsterz
In the middle of the conversation, Lance stops talking and no one notices. It’s not like he had been leading the conversation, for he hadn’t been, but somehow the fact that his lack of input or opinion isn’t noticed tightens the grip loneliness has on his heart. He looks down at his food, his face burning, his throat tightening up.
now usually anything but team as family isnt my deal. im not big on classic langst. but keith as a knight in shining armour.....what can i say i am weak willed. deeply. also " It’s what made it worse. I miss home and I miss being held and the rain, and I loved you. I thought you hated me." got me so bad got me WEAK like i have never recovered from that line and i doubt i ever will
that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!
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Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 10
Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, callsign “Hex”)
Word Count: 8.1k
CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU, EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, oral, fingering, intense vanilla, protected sex
Let me know if I missed any CWs.
Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction.
Chapter Synopsis: Simon is taking care of you for the next two weeks, hoping that you will agree to stay if you had a glimpse of what life would be like with him. You make a final decision after you heal up.
Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10
The prospect of having to take care of you for two weeks both excited and worried Simon. He was eager to show you what life could be like for the both of you if you were to stay. At the same time, he was worried that you would still choose to go back home alone. However, there was another worry that was plaguing him.
Would he be able to resist the urge to make love to you? You were still healing and he would hate to hurt you, but he could barely keep his hands off you. He wanted to touch you any chance he had before you were stuck being a patient. Now that you had no choice in having him take care of you, Simon was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to hold back.
The same idea was running through your mind. You expected Ghost to want to take advantage of the situation to touch you. Despite the fact that your stitches ached, your skin tingled in a pleasurable, heightened awareness, wanting him to run his hands over you. You didn’t know if you could keep your own hands to yourself either, not with him taking care of you for two weeks like you were his lover. Not to mention that you haven’t been with another person intimately in forever.
You would rather die than admit it out loud, but you were horny for Simon. Especially now that the mission was over.
The tension began as soon as the two of you got ready for bed, alone together in the hotel room where there was only one king bed. You resisted the urge to watch him strip his clothes off to replace them with pajamas, revealing such defined muscles from years of training along with trophy scars. Occasionally, his eyes glanced towards you to see if you were enjoying the show, only to find your gaze averted and an irritated frown on your face.
“I’m going to take a shower.” You announced with a grumpy grumble, feeling more and more sexual frustration build up within you along with the painful fading of painkillers.
“Need help?” Ghost offered politely, hoping that you would say yes but knowing that you would say no. However, that wouldn’t stop him from guarding the bathroom door to listen for accidents.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t you dare peek either.” You preemptively scolded, not knowing if Simon was the type to do such a thing to a lover or if he was more of a gentleman.
For now, he was a gentleman. He gave a light chuckle at your scolding. “I thought good soldiers weren’t bothered by nudity?”
You gave him a sharp glare as he threw your words back at you. You supposed that the only thing you had to worry about was him being a smartass. Was this what he was normally like? It came out quite naturally, so you assumed so. Would you really be able to live with that for two weeks?
With a huff, you headed into the bathroom, leaving Simon to bask in his victory against you. Amusement aside, he knew what you meant and he would respect it. You were a woman on a mission during the times you walked around pantless. In your own space too. Now, you were more vulnerable. Ghost wasn’t the kind of man to take advantage of that. Not without consent at least.
It would be a lie if he said he wasn’t imagining you naked right now though. The sound of you stripping off your clothing was such a tease to him.
You gently bathed, not wanting to reopen your wound or cause any unnecessary pain. Ghost’s shadow by the door made you feel safe, adding to the relaxing feeling you were beginning to enjoy from the warm shower. As the world seemed to wash away with each pass of your soapbar, you began to feel free. Before you knew it, you were quietly singing in the shower, the habit first made when you bathed alone back in the cabin. You needed this.
Simon listened to the harmony of the water running and the melody of your voice from outside the door. A small smile began to stretch across his face as he imagined you doing this often. It also made him feel good that you felt comfortable being yourself like this. He wanted to be able to hear you sing in the shower for the rest of his life.
After several minutes of singing, washing, and just breathing, you turned the shower off. This time, you brought some clothes in the bathroom with you, wanting to lower the chances of the two of you going crazy on each other as much as possible. With fresh clothes on, you began to blow dry your hair. However, looking in the mirror, you knew that you were going to run in some trouble. Specifically with raising your arms and stretching to hit certain areas.
Well, you might as well take advantage of Simon’s willingness to help. This was technically his inside glimpse of what it would be like if you belonged to him. “Simon? Could you help me dry my hair?”
The door opened within a second, Ghost ready to help you out however he could. Though he wasn’t too familiar with how to blowdry hair, especially on women, he aimed to do his best. As he turned on the machine, his senses began to hone in on you. How pretty your soaps smelled on you, how soft your hair was between his fingers, how steamy the bathroom still was. The look of content on your face made his heart sing too. Spoiling you was what he always wanted to do now.
Finally, you gave him the signal that your hair was dry enough for bed. When he followed you to the bed, though, you began to feel nervous. Were you really going to be sharing a bed with him?
He noticed your apprehension, stopping him from lifting up the covers. “What’s wrong?”
“I. . . Just stay on your side of the bed, okay?” You ended up deciding as you crawled into the massive bed. Thankfully, the bed was big enough to house the both of you even if Simon was a large man. It would have been easy for the both of you to stay on your respective sides for the entire night.
If Simon listened, that was.
Instead of sticking to his side, he immediately scooted up close to you in order to hold you close, his arm gently resting on you, his chest slowly pressing against your back with each breath. “Sorry, kitten, but that’s an order that I won’t follow.”
His deep voice so close to your ear sent a shiver down your spine, your senses on fire as he was finally touching you. You bit your lip, trying to hold yourself back from a harsh retort and sexual urge. “Any reason as to why you refuse this one?”
Ghost moved even closer, pulling you gingerly against his warm body and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched, his hot breath that fanned your skin making you feel hornier by the second. “Trying to give you reasons to stay.”
The honest answer had your breath stop. You were still debating on what path to take next. Going back to the cabin after everything you’ve been through seems lonely now. On the other hand, you didn’t know if you were okay with returning to the grid. What would you even do? Join the military? You didn’t like the idea of starting from the bottom. How much paperwork would you have to do too? The government would have a lot of questions on where you’ve been.
A sudden bite on your neck snapped you out of your racing thoughts and had you gasp. “What the fuck?!”
“You’re thinking too much. Just be here with me.” He ordered, his eyes narrowing at your sharp ones. For a moment, you thought about elbowing him in the ribs in retaliation. Thinking about it further, though, he was right. You were thinking too much about things that you shouldn’t worry about now. With a deep breath, you let those thoughts go in order to be in the moment.
Simon was pleasantly surprised that you were playing nice now. You seemed close to picking a fight with him a few times, but overall, you were being good. It was probably just the effects of the painkillers and the pain itself. He’ll take it if it meant that you were more relaxed and comfortable. As he pressed his face into you, he took in more of your sweet scent. The sound of your gasp from earlier replayed in his head. Combine that with how closely you spooned against him and he already felt the tightness in his pants.
Ignoring it didn’t make the problem go away, no matter how much time he tried to give it to calm down. He was just completely hooked on you. And as you felt his arousal poke your backside, you realized this fact as well. Not that you were any different. Feeling his boner so hard against you had you wet with anticipation. Yet, you tried to fight it. “You should head to the other side of the bed now. I don’t think I could rest well if you’re pressed up against me like this, Simon.”
His cock twitched as you pointed it out, betraying his serious resolve. Big, strong hands traveled down your waist to your hips, causing your breath to shutter as he stirred the fire underneath your skin. “I won’t be able to rest either, but I’m still not moving away from you.”
“Then what are you going to do about this?” You pushed your butt against his rock-hard cock in a subtle way, as if you were stretching. It felt good to tease him a little and catch him off guard. From how hard he gripped your hips and how hard he twitched, he really wasn’t expecting that. His heart felt like it was going to break his ribs with how strong it was pounding.
“You’re playing with fire, kitten.” Simon warned, his tone husky as he held back from just dry humping you, fingertips digging into your hips to prevent you from escaping. Shit, his imagination was running too wild. He couldn’t help but think about you in all sorts of ways now, all involving you underneath him at his mercy.
Christ, you were excited too. His arousal was throbbing like crazy against you, responding to your teasing incredibly well. His warning just made you curious about how hot that fire really was. Still, it wasn’t the right time to do this, even if you were fucking soaked for him already. “Go to your side then. Just for the night.
He gave a frustrated groan before ultimately agreeing with you. Spooning you, touching you, and rubbing up on you wasn’t going to help him calm down. If anything, it would make it much worse. Hesitantly, he gave you some more space in the bed, the space left feeling like an ocean to him. As a compromise, he took your hand to hold. You gave a teasing giggle. “You didn’t strike me as a clinger.”
“I wasn’t. Good night, y/n.” He curtly answered, not wanting to get teased anymore than you already have done to him tonight. With a final laugh, you squeezed his warm hand and began to doze for a light sleep. As much as he didn’t like you laughing at his expense, at least you were laughing. After everything that happened, he didn’t think he would get to hear you laugh so soon.
~
The following week was a challenge for the both of you. You had the habit of doing things by yourself. While you did call for Simon here and there when you remembered, you were often caught doing things that he should be doing for you instead. When that happened, he would get perturbed which would come across as quick, sharp anger. You then always felt the need to defend yourself up until your stitches had you clench your teeth in pain. Once you began to hurt again, the bickering would stop completely.
After that, Simon would apologize for his tone. You would begrudgingly apologize for yours too and he would kiss you on the cheek in acceptance. Then, the cycle would continue usually a couple more times within the same day. You were a bad patient, but you couldn’t help it. You were too used to licking your wounds by yourself.
Since the first night, Ghost has been more careful about touching you too. As much as he wanted to hold you close every night, to which he tried to, he would always get too excited. It was embarrassing to him and surely it was uncomfortable to you. The last thing he wanted you to think was that he was some sort of sex maniac. He’s already lost control enough. There was no way he was going to lose anymore.
Touches were more gentle. He was always touching you in some sort of way, but he was better at making sure things didn’t go too far. This made you relieved, yet also insanely frustrated. Sometimes, his touch was so light that it was like he really was a ghost. It made you want him to grab you by the waist again, pin you against a wall, and kiss the fuck out of you. As much as you came off as the aggressive type, especially in the bedroom, you enjoyed being manhandled by him. No fear to take you how he wanted.
Eventually, you wound up back at the hospital for a check-up on your healing progress. Instead of being in a bed in a room with other patients, you were in an exam room. Generic jazz softly played over the speakers. Informational medical posters were balanced with paintings of french cafes. While in the doctor’s office, the same doctor that you had last time looked at you with an inquisitive expression. “You seem stressed. That’s not good for the healing process, you know?”
You scoffed at her observation, almost rolling your eyes. “What are you? A shrink too?”
Instead of being offended, she just laughed it off. “It’s about him, isn’t it? The man that waited for you when you first came in? Is he your boyfriend?”
As she scanned over your torso with such genuine care, you decided to just go ahead and open up. It’s not like she could tell anyone about your business anyway by law. “We are. . . in a trial period.”
“I see. So, he could be your boyfriend if the trail goes well?” She inquired openly as if she really was a therapist trying to put the pieces together. It was good that she was relatively easy to talk to. God knows you couldn’t talk to Kate about your boy troubles. She would never let you hear the end of it.
“I don’t know. I kinda got a place to myself out in the countryside. I’m a bit torn on leaving it behind to be with him.” You admitted, an ache settling in your heart. With an understanding hum, the doctor continued the check-up on your body and your emotional health.
“How far have the two of you gone?”
A slight blush came across your cheeks. You weren’t normally one to kiss and tell. “We’ve kissed. Mess around a little, I guess? Nothing further than touching.”
“Would sex be something you would want to have with him before making a final decision?” She earnestly asked, causing your embarrassment over the entire situation to melt away. However, the way she said it didn’t sound flattering. It made you sound superficial, even if it was kinda true.
“I mean, I want to have sex. Hell, it’s been so long for me and I’m really attracted to him. Though, I don’t know if that will actually impact my final decision. I’m not going through this just because he’s sexy.” You confessed, nervously clenching your fists.
The doctor looked up at you, examining your torn expression before handing you your shirt back and sitting in her chair. “Sex can be a really important part of a relationship if people want it to be. There’s nothing wrong with testing the chemistry before committing either. From a woman to a woman, wanting sex is nothing to be ashamed of. You seem like someone that has been through a lot. I believe that you will end up making a good decision that’s guided by your heart and mind. Not just your body.”
As you put your shirt back on, you narrowed your eyes at her. “You sure you’re not a shrink?”
She gave a hearty laugh at your repeated joke. “No, just a doctor that wants you to avoid stress. Your wound seems to be healing up just fine and at the speed of light. The only thing you might struggle with is soreness. For that, you can just take over-the-counter pain medication. In regards to activity, you can start doing some more things by yourself, but don’t push it too far. As soon as you feel any pain beyond soreness, stop immediately.”
You listened to the instructions carefully, taking mental notes on the most important details to relay back to Simon since he will probably demand a full order to follow. Once you were set to go, you headed towards the door. However, the doctor stopped you for a moment. “Oh, one more thing. You’re free to have sex after three days. Nothing too rough.”
A heat crept along your cheeks at the information, a quiet, final goodbye leaving your lips as you headed out.
Outside of the hospital, you saw Kate and Price waiting for you next to a small rental car. This was a little strange since Simon was the one that dropped you off. Reading your expression, Kate answered your unasked question. “We dismissed him for the time being. We were hoping to chat with you about something important. Mind getting in the car?”
“Your treat?” You quirked a brow, already opening the door to the car’s passenger side. Of course, you already knew the answer to your question based on Kate’s face alone. The distance and time between your friendship really hasn’t changed much for the both of you. You two still knew each other quite well.
At a nearby cafe, you sat across Kate and Price, coffees and pastries distributed between the three of you. After a few sips of fresh coffee and a few bites of flakey pastry, the real conversation began, starting with Price. “We were really impressed by your performance, Hex. Not only have you killed Makarov, but you have uncovered their weapons trade route, ghost gun efforts, and a mole within our own command.”
You looked to Kate, just now hearing that news from Price. “You got hard evidence?”
She beamed, proud of your accomplishments coming from one of the men she respected most in her occupation. If Price was proud, she was extremely thrilled. “I managed to get records of conversations and confidential files that would have Shepherd behind bars for the rest of his life and then some. It’s just a matter of bringing it to court.”
“Congratulations.” You softly smiled, elated to see Kate look so determined. The both of you have come a long way from your high school days. Who knew that the two of you would get such deadly occupations. Perhaps that was just another sign that you two were always meant to be friends.
“Thank you, Hex. We couldn’t have done this without you. That’s why we don’t want to lose you. I would like to officially invite you to become part of the 141 Task Force.” Price cut to the chase, finding no reason to beat around the bush.
Your stomach sank in shock, your hand stopping mid-air with your coffee cup. “You mean. . .”
“Yes, Hex. You would be on base with everyone. Soap, Gaz, Price, Ghost, and I would be part of your squad completing missions that protect the world. You would have to come back to the land of the living, but I will personally handle all the bureaucratic issues with you coming back into existence. Honestly, if I can continue to have you off-record, I will try.” Kate promised sincerely, not wanting you to refuse the offer based on all the red tape alone.
You bit your lip, thinking about the proposition deeply. It would certainly make being with Simon a lot easier to accomplish. You weren’t exactly the housewife-type anyway. Yet, there would be more than just red tape that you’d have to confront if you were to come back. Those burnt bridges wouldn’t stop people from yelling across it. Who knew if you could really handle things your way too? Could you really take orders from a higher command that you didn’t agree with? You weren’t a soldier.
Price leaned forward and put a hand on your shoulder, bringing you at ease. “You don’t have to make a decision now. You still have some time to think it over. Just know that you will always have a place for you with us.”
~
Most of the 141 started to head back to the United States, satisfied with their stay in Europe and needing to tackle the endless amount of paperwork that was surely waiting on their desks back home. You said goodbye to everyone at the airport, each one giving you a handshake before you finally accepted a hug. They weren’t sure if this was the last time they would ever get to see you after all. The least you could do was offer a light hug to each of them.
All except Simon that was keen on being with you until you were absolutely cleared with your healing. Admittedly, watching the team get on their plane back home left you feeling a sense of loss. It felt like they were leaving you behind in a weird way. When Simon caught you staring at the take-off, he took your hand in his, a reminder that you didn’t have to be alone.
Later that night, you made the decision to initiate sex with Simon. You were now in the clear to do so according to your doctor, so what did you have to worry about now?
Rejection? Most likely not. Right? He has been keeping a certain distance to avoid losing control. He kisses you on the lips every now and then, but nothing too deep. He’s also stopped trying to cuddle you at night, opting to hold your hand at a safe distance instead ever since the first night. You figured that it was because he would get a boner again. What if it wasn’t that though? What if it was because he was losing interest and didn’t know how to tell you?
You’ve never had a crush like this before. The kind that made you anxious with how they may think of you. It was unsettling to you. Was this what it was like to have a crush on someone? You knew that you fell for him, but it still felt like you still had a heartfelt crush on him too.
As your head ran with so many anxious thoughts, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You examined yourself carefully. The color of your eyes, the way your hair fell around your face, scars that already began at your neck. You never really cared about your appearance unless it was to blend in. There were always more important things to worry about. Besides, you were always alone anyway, so who was going to see you? Now, it was different. You looked at yourself, hoping that Simon didn’t mind your rough edges.
You splashed some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. Your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your chest. With a deep breath, you exited the bathroom to finally take some initiative. God, you were nervous.
“Simon?” You called out, catching his attention immediately. He was sitting at the desk, working on a laptop that had documents pulled up. Even if he didn’t leave to the states yet, he still wanted to get started on what he could on the post-mission reports. However, you were way more important to him right now.
“Something the matter?” He softly asked, noticing how nervous you looked. A million thoughts ran through his mind as to why you would look so anxious. He wanted to hold you close and make your nerves melt away. In order to protect you from himself, though, he kept his distance and waited for you to speak.
Slowly, you approached him, taking in his handsome features that gave you butterflies. Just as slowly, you leaned down to kiss him while he sat. He was caught off guard for a moment before he sunk into it, returning your steady, deep kisses. It took everything in him to not let his hunger for more take over, trying to think about your still healing body. Your kisses were driving him crazy, however. This was the first time you initiated a kiss yourself.
You began to melt, the pleasure of Ghost’s lips against yours pulling you more into the moment. You were losing yourself with each kiss, the kiss turning deeper and hungrier each passing second. Not being able to resist touching you anymore, Simon stood from his chair and pulled you close, his tongue slipping into your mouth. A feeling of deja vu sent a chill up your spine causing you to shiver.
Simon absolutely loved the way you trembled under his touch. He loved the way your tongue tasted too. Warm, soft, sweet. But, it filled him with fire too. It was like drinking the sweetest bourbon known to man. And he couldn’t get enough, good conscious be damned. The kiss became more passionate with harder kisses. He nibbled on your lips, swiped his tongue against yours, tasted every corner of your mouth.
Just like last time you made out with him, you began to feel your legs become weak and your breath become ragged. Your panties also began to feel damp with how much you were leaking already. When you pulled back for some air, Simon latched on to your neck. You moaned as his tongue dragged against your sensitive skin followed by a pleasurable bite. It was music to his ears, listening to you submit to the ecstasy he wanted to spoil you with.
A voice in his head was telling him to slow down, but he just couldn’t. He has been wanting you for so long. He felt like he needed you now. Exactly like last time, he was beginning to lose more control as his feelings for you overridden his brain. His hands slipped under your shirt, your soft skin feeling like heaven on earth. As his hands continued to roam your body, you shuttered for more. You didn’t want him to just touch your torso. You wanted to feel his hands all over your body.
You gripped the bottom of his shirt, tugging it that indicated that you wanted it off. Without hesitation, he complied, revealing skin that you’ve been dying to touch. As soon as your hands began to rub his chest, he gave his own groan, electricity flowing through every nerve he had. If he wasn’t careful, you would be the one melting him down to nothing.
“Kitten. . . to the bed.” Simon sighed into your neck, his vision tunneling towards the goal to have you quivering beneath him. Thankfully, you obeyed diligently, taking off your shirt in the process to reveal your perfect breasts. As soon as you were on your back, he crawled over you to kiss those tits that he’s only felt once. To have them in his hands again, to have your stiff nipple in his mouth, it all just felt perfect. You were meant to be here with him like this.
You bit your lip to hold back your moans, Simon’s teeth gently teasing your nipple while his fingers pinched the other one. You were already soaking wet from the intense kisses and aching. This just made it even worse to the point where you were grinding into his boner without realizing it. His breath hitched as he felt your hips press against his, rubbing his cock against a barrier of clothes. Jesus, he didn’t know if we could last much longer.
In order to avoid completely embarrassing himself and to make sure that you will be more than satisfied with his performance, his kisses trailed further down. Just like he wanted, he began to place kisses on just about every scar you had. Simon even left a few hickeys over them, covering the marks of enemies with his own.
As he dragged his lips and tongue across your ribs and stomach, your fingers went through his soft, blonde hair. Your clit throbbed, wanted his kisses to go further down.
Christ, you wanted him to eat you out so bad. Your hips continued to jolt, begging for more until you had to resort to using your voice. “S-Simon. . .”
He knew what he was doing. He was purposely avoiding going further down on you to teach you. When you called his name in a plea, his heart swelled and his cock throbbed. For a moment, he sat up to get a good look at you. You were a trembling mess. It was a stark contrast to how he usually saw you, yet, he loved this side of you too. It was an honor to be the first man who did this to you in a long time too.
However, his gaze fell on your side. The stitches were gone and the wound was closed, but a scar was left in its place. His eyes darkened as he realized that he was taking it too far again. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to be gentle with you. You noticed his hesitance, a knot tying in your stomach. “Is something wrong?”
“You’re still healing. We shouldn’t-”
You cut him off, getting impatient between your legs. “The doctor cleared me for this. I want to do this with you, Simon.”
Blue eyes poured into yours, searching for any amount of uncertainty that would give him a reason to reject you. Yet, there was none of that in your beautiful eyes. There was nothing but need and love for him in them. Just like that, he caved, the feeling of being able to let go a huge weight off his shoulders. Finally, he could have you exactly how he wanted you.
He removed your pants and panties in one swoop, spreading your legs wide right after so he could really look at your glistening sex. Your cheeks burned pink as he stared at your weeping pussy so intensely. Your thighs were a mess with your slick, your clit was swollen. Simon prevented you from closing your legs, his grip firm in order to keep you open. You covered your face with your hands in growing embarrassment. “Fuck, Simon, stop staring! I told you it’s been a while for me!”
He took pleasure from your cries, a chuckle escaping him. With his thumb, he began to gently rub your sensitive bud, just barely brushing against it. You gasped from the contact, your vision seeing stars. Were you always this sensitive? Probably not. The only sexual partner you had for years was yourself. Being touched by someone else felt different. Better. Especially being touched by the person you had feelings for.
Simon lowered himself, kissing your legs and thighs on the way down. His gazed burned up into yours as he suckled hard on your skin to leave a mark. It took everything not to buck your hips up towards his face, to grab his hair and pull him down to devour you. As his tongue licked the inside of your thighs, you whimpered. “Stop teasing me!”
“Patience, kitten. I’m trying to savor this.” He admitted, reveling in the way you begged for him. While he was trying to savor you, he was also going slow for his own sake. Even if you were approved by your doctor, it didn’t mean he could be rough with you. Hopefully, that will happen another time. For now, he wanted to be gentle yet invigorating.
You gripped the sheets tight, trying to stay patient for what was to come. But god damn, his teasing was unbearable! He kissed everywhere except your needy cunt, making you squirm and gasp and whimper. Eventually, he took a finger and felt your wetness between his fingers. It filled him with his own arousal, his cock still hard in his pants. “You’re fucking soaked for me, kitten. Fucking hell.”
Finally, after too much waiting, he trailed his tongue along your entire slit, coating his taste buds in your intoxicating, sweet slick. You nearly screamed with pleasure, his warm tongue tasting you with no remorse. Simon had to pin your hips down to keep you from bucking away from him. Lips closed around your clit, sucking it before soothing it with his tongue. Every now and then he would run the entire length of you, drinking up excess wetness that escaped from you. He was completely devouring you just like the both of you wanted. Before you knew it, you were already close. You’ve never cummed like this before.
The sheets were in a death grip as you were brought closer to the edge. With one of his hands, he found yours and intertwined your fingers together. Simon didn’t mind how tight you squeezed. He could take it. He was too pussy drunk from you to notice just how hard your nails dug into his knuckles anyway. He moaned into your slit, hooked on your taste and wanting nothing more than to pleasure you for the rest of your life. His own hips grinded against the edge of the bed, rubbing his girthy cock through his pants.
His teeth bit down around your clit, his tongue flickering back and forth to get you to orgasm. With a foggy brain and stars in your eyes, you threw your head back and moaned out your climax, your body absolutely quaking from the intensity. The mess you left was cleaned up with more licks, each swipe and suck making your head spin amidst your climax. He didn’t stop eating you up, even when you were begging for mercy.
“S-Simon! Wait!” You cried, feeling him build up another orgasm within you as he continued enjoying you like the best meal he’s ever had. He shoved his tongue inside you, tasting you straight from the source before he once again dragged his tongue up against your reddened folds and all the way to your twitching button of nerves. You felt a thick finger enter you with ease followed by another one, Simon relentless with giving you attention.
You coated his fingers with your nectar within a second, feeling how much you could tighten around him. He imagined his cock in place of his fingers, feeling you tighten up with each thrust as you came close to cumming again. It was almost painful how hard his dick yearned for it. He would take you now, but he wanted to make sure that he would fit. He was a big man with the dick to match. Not too long, but definitely girthy. Simon needed to make sure that you could take him.
He curled his fingers at just the right angle, hitting your tender spot that made you feel like jelly. At the same time, he lathered up your clit with his mouth again, fingers pumping into you nonstop at a steady pace that left you breathless. Your juices dripped down his hand and onto the sheets, but he didn’t care. If anything, he wanted you to make more of a mess.
Screaming his name, you ground your hips against his hand and mouth, wanting all of him to go further, deeper, faster. Fuck, he was having you completely undone. Never in your life have you received this much attention. Your back arched as the wave crashed, your body tensing as electricity hit every cell within you. Simon’s fingers still went at you, making sure that you couldn’t get off the ride just yet.
As the wave died down, you struggled to catch your breath and regain your vision. You felt lightheaded. Weak. You’ve never been this weak for anyone. No one has ever treated you like this. Was Simon Riley normally like this when it comes to sex?
Giving you a moment to catch your breath, Simon stripped off his pants and briefs to reveal his own need that he’s been holding off for a bit too long. Your eyes widened at his reveal, wondering if he would even fit for a moment. That anxiety was quickly replaced with the desire to completely fill you up and stretch you as far as needed in order to take all of him. The excitement filled your core, body trembling.
Ghost took a minute to situate himself in a missionary position, almost moaning from the feeling of your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer to you. His dick slid up and down between your folds, slickness coating him along with your heat. As his tip pressed into your clit, you gripped onto his shoulders. “I don’t think I can wait anymore, Simon. . . Please, don’t make me fucking wait anymore. . .”
When you pleaded for him like that, he couldn’t possibly say no. Or even keep his cool for that matter. His lips crashed against yours, your taste still on his lips. As he invaded your mouth, his cock slid into you swiftly until he had his entire length in you. Simon ate your moans up, groaning himself at the pleasure of your tight, hot, wet cunt wrapping around him. It was like you were made for him, taking his cock so well.
He gave you a moment to get used to him, thrusting in and out his full length steadily. You took a few shaky breaths, feeling a hint of pain as he stretched you out. It didn’t take long for that pain to be completely replaced with ecstacy, your legs wrapping tighter around him. Your hands traced the muscles on his back, feeling them flex with each deep thrust.
You appreciated how gentle he was trying to be. It was obvious he was struggling, however, with the way his grunts entered your mouth through the intense kisses. His cock throbbed inside of you, wanting more of the pleasure you had to offer. You could feel his own body shiver too under your touch, filling you with confidence. Simon Riley was just as crazy about you as you were about him.
“Simon! More!” You begged, yearning for him to take you a little harder. You didn’t feel any pain in your side, so going just a bit rougher shouldn’t be a big deal. However, Simon was still hesitant.
“You sure, kitten?” He confirmed to which you nodded vigorously. As soon as you gave the go ahead, he buried his face in your neck and thrusted faster. Harder. Jesus fucking Christ, you felt so good underneath him. You felt amazing before, but this is really how he wanted to take you. To make love to you. To convey his feelings to you. His passion for you was wild. Simon could be rough and gentle, but always wild.
Your pussy tightened around him with each thrust, not wanting him to leave every time he pulled out. The way his cock thrusted so deep inside of you, completely rubbed every inch of you with his girth, and twitched inside you as he desired to cum made you feel nothing but pure sexual bliss. Cunt absolutely dripping, you made a mess all over his crotch and then some.
Cries and moans filled the room, each movement sending you each time. Suddenly, you found his hands slipping into yours, holding them tight as he increased his intensity. He was barely thinking anymore. All he could think about was how fucking amazing you felt and how he couldn’t get enough. Your hearts pounded in synch, feeling the pulse between your intertwined fingers.
He sighed out your name. Your real name, causing you to tighten around him even more. The feeling of an orgasm was approaching again, making you tighten your grip in his hands and arch your back, loving the way his strong body pressed flush weighted down yours. You begged for more, begged him not to stop, begged him to completely ravage your cunt. All to which he complied, feeling his own orgasm approaching.
Simon’s hot breath heated your neck, his lips brushing against your skin. His own moans went straight into your ears, sending you over the edge from arousal over the sounds of his own pleasure. His cock still pumped deep into you, fucking you hard all throughout your orgasm. Tears peeked at the corner of your eyes from the intensity, your whole body shuttering. You screamed his name as you came, making shivers run down his spine.
Watching you with a heated gaze, he observed just how beautifully you orgasmed. It triggered his own, hips going into overdrive as he watched you squirm. Your cunt brought him to cum, ropes shooting deep inside to add to your warmth. You bit your lip hard at his release. His hands gripped yours, breath labored against your skin, cock still twitching inside you.
Ghost couldn’t remember the last time came this hard. Or inside anyone. He propped himself up in a panic as he realized that he forgot a condom. “Shit, y/n, I-”
“Relax, Simon. I’m on birth control.” You reassured, your hand reaching up to caress his face. He leaned into your touch, kissing your palm as his heart settled down. Carefully, he pulled out and settled by your side, basking in the afterglow with you. It didn’t matter if you were both sticky and sweaty, he just wanted you close.
You sighed in satisfaction, feeling light as a cloud as you cuddled against Simon like a lover. The more you rested, the more your thoughts began to come back. You didn’t have to be like his lover. You could really be his lover if you agreed to stay with him. You could have this every night. Not just sex, but security. The warmth, the love. You could have a real future.
However, you had to take care of a few things first.
~
Simon fell into a deep sleep. He didn’t know when it happened. All he remembered was having the best sex of his life with you and then holding you in the afterglow. It’s been years since he’s fallen into such a deep sleep without nightmares. The space next to him was empty and cold, though. A new nightmare come to life.
He frantically searched for you, calling out all three variants of your name, hoping that you would respond to one of them. Panic rose in his chest, choking his breath. When he didn’t see any sign of you, he scrambled to put clothes on to search the streets. That’s when he noticed a letter on the desk.
Simon Riley,
I’m sorry that I have to disappear like this. I want you to know that you are the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time. As much as you infuriate me, make me want to pull my hair out, and drive me crazy, I really can’t imagine my life without you anymore. That’s why I need to take care of a few things first before I can start a new life with you. Loose ends and whatnot. Please don’t see this as me deciding to never see you again. I promise that I will return.
Love,
Kitten
Ghost wasn’t sure what to think. He was relieved that you planned on being back, but at the same time his heart was broken. He was angry. How could you leave in the middle of the night like that? How could you sneak away without saying goodbye?
Why didn’t you give him the option to come with you?
~
It’s been months since the last time Simon saw you. He hasn’t heard anything from you. No call, no letter, not even a message to pass using Kate. It was like you disappeared off the planet. Like you never existed in the first place.
He wasn’t handling your disappearance well. He was harsh on the new recruits, curt with his teammates, and more antisocial than ever. The only piece he had left of you was the letter, promising him that you would come back once you took care of your business. Too much time has passed since then. Were you okay? Did you change your mind? Was everything you did with him a lie?
Nightmares of his past were replaced by the nightmare of losing you, night after night. You were all he could think about constantly. Thankfully, the team wasn’t sent on any long-term missions together. Always brief. Even if it wasn’t, he would make it so in a rampage.
It was close to Christmas when Price came to present the team with their first longer-term assignment since Makarov. The gang would leave in a week, allowing enough time to prepare for what was to come. Most of the guys hung out with friends for the last time for a while. Some with their family. Some stuck to training to be in tip-top shape. Ghost felt like he didn’t have much of that. He tried to figure out how he was going to pass the time as he walked with his team outside on the base. Snow began to fall down, the flakes quickly melting once they hit ground.
Price cleared his throat, ready to make a final announcement. “One last tidbit you need to know before going off to get fills for the week. We have a new member joining us for this mission.”
Eyes immediately focused on the captain, the same thought crossing everyone’s mind. Ghost was the most attentive to this news. About a second later, the sound of a motorcycle in the distance began to get louder as it got closer. It didn’t take long for the cycle to drive past the gates and brake in front of the men. It took everything out of them not to completely tackle you in a group bear hug.
As soon as you lifted your helmet off your head, your eyes locked with Ghost’s. You looked as beautiful as ever. Like no time had passed at all. Before anyone could say anything, Ghost pushed them all aside, ripped off his mask, and pulled you in for an intense, deep kiss that conveyed all of his emotions.
You kissed him back, not caring if the other men in the 141 were watching. They actually seemed moved by the reunion. They knew that Ghost was having a hard time without you. You needed to be here for them and for him.
He pulled back from you, breathless. He could hardly believe that you were standing here in front of him. One thing for sure though was that he was never going to let you go again.
You vowed to never let him go again either. This is where you belong. Your true home.
-
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The First Meeting
main masterlist
spencer reid x famous!reader Universe
word count: 4.1 k
warnings: stalking, murder, character asking to die (if I missed something please let me know)
Today was supposed to be an easy day for the BAU. It was a paperwork day, no case, no one dying on their watch.
These were some of Spencer's favourite days, don’t get him wrong he loves being in the field and profiling killers, and when they arrest an unsub, that’s the best feeling.
But having days every now and again where they don’t have to travel and Spencer can read and reflect on their previous case, he greatly enjoys it. And he can’t say he’s the only one, but he can say he’s the only one that uses paperwork days to do paperwork.
Penelope walks in the glass doors humming a tune, foreign to Spencer.
“You got that James Dean day dream, hmm hm mhmmm, I got that red lip classic”
“What’s got you so happy, babygirl?” Derek says, from across Spencer.
“Um, because The Met Gala is tonight! Biggest night in Fashion! And no case means I can watch it.”
“Oh, I must have forgot to put it on my calendar.” Derek, sarcastically remarks while getting up and out of his chair on his way to refill his coffee cup. All the while JJ comes rushing the bullpen, giving the rest of her co-workers a sympathetic face.
“Just when I thought, we would have an easy day.” Emily mumbles getting out her desk chair and walking away with JJ.
“Wally Melman, a music producer in New York, was killed two weeks ago, and Natali Ryan , a singer and songwriter, was killed 4 days ago also in New York.” JJ says while the screen behind her shows pictures of the crime scene.
“The police said they found pictures with the victim's face with ‘You’re Next’ written in red marker across their face. Suspected to have gotten in the mail.”
“And why have they called us now?” Derek says, clearing knowing there was more JJ was going to say but wanting her to get to it quicker.
“Yesturday, another singer/songwriter, by the name of Y/n L/n-”
“Oh. My God!” Penny interrupts JJ, having come in to tell the team an update she had gotten from the NYPD. “uh- sorry, I’m sorry.. Um, the NYPD wants a couple of us to go straight to the crime scene once we land, and that the next vic- uh Y/n L/n I suppose- is at the station waiting.” Penny says, turning and leaving after finishing her sentence.
“Okay everyone, wheels up in 30. JJ can fill us in on the jet.”
When the team arrived in New York, Hotch sent Rossi and Emily to the recent crime scene, and JJ to talk to the media, while himself, Spencer, and Derek went to the station.
When the three got to the station they were shown the note Y/n had gotten from the unsub, different to the others, hers having ‘You Owe Me’ written across her face instead. The team walked into the room they were told Y/n would be in.
Spencer knew she would be pretty, everyone in Hollywood was gorgeous that’s how it worked, but this girl was easily the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon, even with her bleached hair that he could assume was a split second decision.
She sat on a chair next to one of the officers' desks, as if she was like everyone else and not a world-wide popstar. Y/n and her manager Joe look up, hearing footsteps walk into the room. She stood up to shake Hotch’s hand.
“Hi, I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you and thank you so much.” “Of course”
She goes to shake Derek hand, saying a greeting similar to the one she gave Hotch, then she comes face to face with Spencer, or possibly- not definitely the most beautiful man she has ever seen, sticking out her hand she says, “Hi, nice to meet you..”
“Dr. Spencer Reid- or just Spencer, you don’t have to call me doctor.” “Nice to meet you Spencer.” Y/n stays looking at Spencer maybe a second longer than she should have. It’s just so hard to look away from a man that beautiful. When Y/n does finally look away, she takes a seat and they begin their questioning.
“How well do you know Natalie Ryan?”
“Uh, we talked when we were at the same events and were always friendly, but we weren’t friends.”
“How about Wally Melman?”
“What?”
“Wally Melman, he was a producer who was killed a couple months ago.” Spencer jumps in, making Y/n turn to address him, while she asks her next statement .
“The paper said that it was a robbery.” “The paper was wrong.” Derek responded quickly.
“Did you know him?” Hotch asks, wanting to get back to the questions he has for Y/n.
“I wanted to work with him on my last album, but he started working with..” Y/n cut herself off.
“Who?” Spencer asks concernedly, seeing the scared look on Y/n's face.
“Natalie Ryan, and they beat Y/n for song of the year” Joe says while Y/n is setting her face to rest in her hands, trying to comprehend what was happening.
“Do you ever have the feeling that someone is following you, or watching you?” Derek asks.
“Only every second I spend outside my house. I have fans, and paparazzi following me everywhere. It’s part of the job.”
“Do you ever get repetitive phone calls, hang ups, or gifts sent anonymously?” Spencer asks.
“I receive flowers, Lilies, my favourite. The seventh of each month they get sent to each of my homes, they just show up on the doorstep. Never a note, nothing.”
After a few more of their questions it just becomes too much, knowing that these people are being killed because of her or ‘for’ her and Y/n gets up and leaves the room. Not being able to actually leave given the cameras outside, she doesn’t get too far. And Spencer is right behind her.
“Y/n wait!”
“Can you explain what the hell is going on?”
“Well, it’s still rather speculative, but it appears there’s a delusional assassin who’s killing people to help further your career. It probably started as a stalker. An erotomaniac stalker. There’s a psychopathology of the evolution of these types of stalkers and the fact that he’s contacting you indicates that he believes you owe him something. This model frequently concludes itself with one of two possibilities, either the stalker will kill himself or he’ll kill the object of his affection.”
If Spencer wasn’t talking about the possibility of Y/n’s untimely death, she would have had more time to find Spencer’s rambling and seemingly never ending knowledge hot.
Y/n had gotten home from her time at the station, hoping to be able to relax as she has the Met tomorrow night. But when she had gotten to her front door the yellow notepad paper taped onto it caught her eye.
After reading the note she called the station immediately. The BAU had arrived looking over the note, Y/n was in the room but not listening, she onlys snaps back into listening to the conversations when she hears Spencer.
“In English?” one of the officers asks.
“That is English actually.” Y/n smiles at that, while Spencer continues, getting cut off by Derek not too far into his explanation. Y/n finally speaks up, after the team starts talking about how she should continue, as if she isn’t there.
“I’m standing right here guys..”
“If we did remove you from the street, you couldn’t stay here, we would have to take you to an undisclosed location.”
“I have a fitting here in 30 mins, and the Met tonight, then I’m all yours. Look, I don't want to be afraid of this lunatic.”
"We can clear all but essential personnel, and up your security.”
“Derek and Spencer will stay here with you.”
“Okay.”
The team getting Y/n ready for the Met have set up, Y/n just finished getting hair and makeup done in just her underwear and a robe. Spencer walks up to Y/n while she’s opening a greenhouse ginger shot to drink.
“I’m sorry if I was insensitive earlier.” Spencer says, referring to when he followed her outside of the questioning room and told her there was a possibility this stalker/assassin guy will kill her, just a tad insensitive.
But nonetheless Y/n responds with, “It’s fine, you were just doing your job, right?” “Yeah.” Y/n takes her ginger shot with a look of remorse on her face. She reaches for the soda in Spencer’s hand, to wash it down.
“You don’t mind sharing with me do you?” Spencer quickly shakes his head mumbling a quick ‘no’ while Y/n’s team calls her to get into the dress, Y/n takes off the robe she was wearing, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen, then throwing the robe over a nearby chair. Now standing in just her underwear she smiles at Spencer before walking over to the team helping her get into the dress.
Leaving Spencer to watch her as she subtly sways her hips slightly more than usual when she walks. Spencer takes a sip of the soda Y/n had handed back after taking a sip, Derek coming over to tease Spencer about the scene he just watched.
“You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” “Shut up.” Spencer says as he walks away. “Go get ‘em, lover.”
Y/n didn’t get to stay at the Met nearly as long as she wished. With double the security and Spencer there with her, she knew she wouldn’t have the night she was hoping for, but maybe something close.
But as she danced with Tom Hiddleston, Spencer got the call to take her to the safe house. Spencer didn’t really want to interrupt Y/n dancing on who he assumes is another famous person, but he had to, for her safety.
“Um- Y- Y/n we have to go.” Spencer says while struggling to gain her attention.
“Really?” “Yeah..” “Okay” she sighs, turning to Tom, mumbling an apology and some fake excuse.
They got to Y/n's home. Spencer rambling about safety measures Y/n should take. “You should also probably change all your phone numbers.” “I’m unlisted.” “Anytime you call an 800 number or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. If someone gets your cell phone number they can go online and research all your records.”
Y/n looks at Spencer expecting him to continue, but when he doesn’t she assumes he’s done, and gets up to walk into her kitchen, saying as she gets up, “You’re very cute when you ramble.” Causing Spencer to freeze but when she turns the corner out of his sight he rushes to keep up with her.
“You should also probably carry a piece of paper and a pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious licence plates that often reappear.” Spence trails of looking closely at a collage hung up on Y/n’s wall
“It’s a photographic collage. I like how obscure it is.”
“You should also get a dog. Like a guard dog of some sort.” Spencer says, staring intently at the collage but not acknowledging what Y/n said about it.
“I don’t think so, I'm a cat person. Dogs are not for me… Earl grey good?”
“Wha- what?”
“Tea, do you want some tea?”
“Uh yes, yes sure.”
“Okay” Y/n says smiling at his nervousness.
Y/n walks into the living room, in her swimsuit with a robe overtop, coming to stand next to Spencer while he stares intently at the picture collage on Y/n’s wall.
“Are you feeling anything?” “There is something definitely appealing about it.” “That’s a start” Y/n says while chuckling.
Turning on her heels towards the back door to the pool. This catches Spencer’s actions wondering what she's doing, he asks, “What are you doing?” “Going for a swim.” Y/n responds nonchalantly. “What? No, Y/N!” Spencer yells following her, but before he can reach her she dives into the pool.
Swimming up to the surface and wiping her face with her hands. She looks so gorgeous, she looks like a movie star, which is not far off. But Spencer really shouldn’t be thinking about how beautiful she is when he’s job is to keep her safe, and her being out here is not safe.
“Y/n, you cannot do this.” “Just a few minutes?” She ‘asks’ while giving Spencer puppy dog eyes. “Go get a suite in the house.” “What? No, I’m not going to grab a suit. Are you kidding me? No.” Spencer says in that high pitched tone he does, she’s only heard it once before, but she can’t help but find it so cute.
“Join me.” “No, I’m going to join you.” “Why not?” “You’re being pursued by a psychotic killer who shoots people in the head!” “I’m not going to stop living my life because of him.” Y/n turns to float in the water. “Y/n, I’m begging you. Will you please get out of the pool?”
“Come on, Spence, you should live a little.” “Live a little? I’ve not known you for 24 hours, I feel like I’ve already aged 10 years.” “Ugh, I can’t be that bad.” “Yes, you are that bad.” Y/n turns off of her back and starts to swim to the edge of the pool Spencer is standing at.
“Fine, but can you help me out at least?” She says putting on an innocent face as if she really did want help out of the pool. When Spencer leans down to grab her hand to help her up, Y/n pulls him into the pool causing a big splash following after Spencer falls in.
Which then causes a laugh to come from Y/n as Spencer rises to the water's surface.
“Yes, very funny. Laugh it up, Y/n. Hilarious. My gun’s wet. That’s just great” Spencer swims to the edge to get his gun out of the water, Y/n swimming behind him, still chuckling.
“My clothes.” “I told you to grab a suit.”
While Spencer looks down at his wet chest, Y/n’s hand comes to rest on his peck, causing Spencer to look up at Y/n. When he looks at her, she is already looking in his eyes, her eyes asking the question ‘do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?’ the answer being ‘yes’ as Spencer starts to lean in. Not knowing what he’s doing, leaning in to kiss Y/n L/n global superstar? Who does he think he is, thinking she would want to kiss him? But contrary to Spencer's beliefs, Y/N leans in too, pulling his body closer to hers faster by his tie. As their lips collide, it feels as if the world slows down. For the first time in a long time Y/n feels normal, regular, ordinary, in the best possible way. She feels in the way Spencer's lips are moving against hers that he doesn’t want her for her fame, or looks, but for her. Just her. But then Spencer pulls away. It had only been a couple seconds, how could a kiss that short hold that much emotion? Spencer’s words stop her from thinking too much.
“This is completely inappropriate.” “Spence..” Y/n looks into Spencer's eyes only looking away when she closes them and pulls him into another kiss, by his tie. This kiss, still sweet and emotion filled, yet rougher, as if they had gotten that much more comfortable now versus 15 seconds ago. Their lips move together roughly, Y/n tongue brushing Spencer’s lips looking for access, which causes Spencer to move his lips back from Y/n’s again. “No, there’s this thing called transference.” Spencer says, all the while Y/n is trying to recover from the best kiss of her life, and Spencer has no idea. “Do you not like me?” “What?” Spencer says quickly like him not liking her, and is just the most insane idea in the world, and truthfully that’s not far off. “Was that kiss not good?” “No- no it was very good.” “Because I like you.” “I like you too. It’s just I’m a federal agent. You know. And I’m supposed to protect you.” “Then you should keep me close.” Y/n mumbles moving her lips to Spencers again. Spencer pulls back to start talking again, as Y/N’s kisses move to his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin every so often, the first nibble causing Spencer to let out a surprised noise that quickly turns into a moan. “I’m just, hmm.. I’m a little worried, you know? We’re in a pool.” “Are we?” “And it’s uh.. We’re pretty much exposed.” Y/n moves to give Spencer's lips a quick peck, before responding to his concerns. “We have cops. We have cops posted out front.” Y/n cuts herself off to kiss Spencer again, “There are coyotes out back.” Y/n pauses looking at Spencer’s lips, while licking her own, then shooting her eyes up to Spencer’s “And then it’s just you and me.” Y/n moves her lips to be hovering over Spencer’s their noses rubbing against each other, it feels much more intimate than just kissing him, breathing in the after shave and cologne mixed with chlorine soaked into his skin is a smell Y/n would never get sick of, no matter how much she hated the smell of chlorine. She moves her lips back to the spot she found on his neck that makes him the most reactive. “Stop- I have to tell you something.” “What?” “I didn’t want to tell you this before, because I was a little bit worried… I didn’t know how to say it, but I can’t not tell you.” “Spence, just tell me. What is it?” “Your manager, Joe… Hotch went to check on him, but he got there too late.” Y/n looks into Spencer’s eyes any ounce of a look that would tell her he wasn’t serious. Because Joe couldn’t be dead. Not because of her, Joe was like family, no matter how weird he was. Joe was always there. Y/n turns away not being able to look at Spencer, “How could you-” She turns back to him, looking Spencer in the eyes as she aks, “How could you not tell me?” “I was afraid you’d be upset.” “You knew? How could you know and not tell me?” “Y/n, I’m so sorry” Y/n moves towards the edge of the pool to pull herself out, Spencer trying to help her. “Don’t- Don’ touch me! Please, don’t touch me!” Y/n gets out walking back into the house with a towel around herself, leaving Spencer in the pool.
Spencer walks into Y/n’s living room, seeing her sitting on her couch crying, he wants to comfort her. Just don't know how. “Y/n?...Are you still… Are you okay?” “Joe was like family.” Hearing Y/n cry hurts Spencer more than he thought possible from a girl he met not even 24 hours ago. “It’s just so hard to trust people in this industry, you don’t know who to believe.Everybody wants something from you. And I felt- I thought you were different.” “I know I should have told you.” “I told him not to.” Rossi cuts in having heard most of the conversation from behind Spencer. “He was only following my orders.” Rossi pats Spencer's shoulder while leaving the room. “The last time I could really trust people was when I moved to Nashville.” Y/n says, all the while Spencer is decoding the picture collage on Y/n’s wall. “Nashville, you said you lived you Houston street? And you were on KZ fm in high school?..” “Yeah..?” When Y/n sees the way Spencer is intensely staring at the collage she also gets up, to stand next to him. “I need to take this thing about.” Spencer says while not looking away. “What?” “I’ll put it back. I think I see images of you. Guys!”
Y/n stands to the side with Derek while Spencer and Emily are putting the pieces together. “Y/n, it looks like someone has been stalking you for years.”
“Yeah, this tells your whole life story. Awards, Billboard charts, Albums.”
“Everything since moving to Nashville.”
“Who gave you this collage?” Derek asked, leaning over the island counter. “Um- he did” Y/N says pointing at a picture on the collage. “Who is he?” “Uh- Parker Dunley, I don’t really know him, he just owns a gallery I go to sometimes.”
Spencer gets off the phone quickly turning to Y/N. “Y/N, do you someone by the name of Veronica Hartley?” “Roni? Yeah, of course I know her. I’ve known her for years. She’s one of my assistants.” Their conversation gets cut off by Y/n’s phone ringing. “What is it?” Spencer asks, seeing the way her eyes widened when she read the caller ID.
“That’s her calling now.”
“Is she calling from her cell phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Y/n, we think Roni’s the stalker.”
“No- No way.”
“Answer the phone. Act completely natural, the longer you keep her on the line the more likely we’ll be able to trace the call.. Trust me.” Spencer walks away to call the team, while Y/n answers Roni’s call.
“Hello?…Roni?...” Spencer turns to Y/N and gives her a signal to keep talking.
“Rons?... You’re tired?......I saw you today?.... I don’t know what you’re talking about.. I remember.. Roni, that was just one weekend…”
“Y/n” Spencer whisper yells, after getting off the phone with Penny, finding out Roni’s calling inside the house.
“How did she get inside?”
“She has keys.”
Spencer starts searching the house Y/n walking behind him. When they get up to a guest bedroom, Y/n feels the barrel of a gun being pressed to her skull, Spencer quickly turns around.
“Put down the gun.” Roni demands. “Roni..” Spencer says while lowering his gun. “Don’t call me ‘Roni” you don’t know me! Come on, Y/n, let’s go. We have to go, baby. Come on.” Y/n looks in Spencer’s eyes begging him to do something. “Roni, don’t hurt her. You don’t need to hurt her.” “You don’t know anything. I would never hurt her. I created her" "No you didn’t.” “Yes, I did you stupid, ungrateful, little bitch.. I can’t believe I ever loved you.” “Roni, she.. She loves me now.” Roni moves her gun from pointing it at Y/n’s head to pointing it at Spencer. “She told me so. When we were in the pool. She kissed me. Now she loves me okay?” “No.” “Tell her we kissed in the pool.” “No!’ Roni yells this time switching from pointing her gun from Spencer to Y/n. Y/n looks at Spencer hopefully to tell her the next move, when he nods his head at her she says, “Yes, we kissed.” Roni then pushes Y/n, and Spencer tackles Roni to the ground, grabbing her gun, and pointing it at her. “Kill me! Please. Kill me! I’ll be so much happier!” But Spencer shakes his head, lowering the gun as he says, “No, we’re going to get you some help.”
Y/n is standing in the station talking to her publicist, while news vans are lined up outside.
“I don’t want any media.” “Come on, Y/n” “No. No media.” “Okay, no media. Let me deal with these guys then.”
After Y/n’s publicist leaves, Spencer walks up to Y/n. “I wish we didn’t meet under these circumstances. More normal maybe.” “Y/n, believe me, no matter how we met, I’m glad we did.” Y/n feels her whole body, warm at that, she turns her head, knowing Spencer can see the blush on her face. They’re interrupted when Derek yells for Spencer. “Hey, Reid. Come on, we got to move.” “Well, um- here, take this.” Y/n passes Spencer a receipt she had written her new number on. “Would you- if it’s okay with you, give me a call.” “Yeah, I would love to.” Rossi comes walking over. “I hate to intrude, kid, but we’re waiting.” “Yeah- yeah a second.” “So- call me, I’ll be waiting.” Y/n turns to walk away, but Spencer puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Y/n turns towards Spencer, he puts his hand on her check, Y/n leaning into his palm, turning her head slightly to press a small kiss into his palm, before walking away.
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Ouch, that's gotta hurt.
Watching Cleriths celebrate NPTK these past weeks, knowing they'll, as always, be proven incorrect has been an exercise in patience.
Sometimes it's just clear that you won't be able to convince people of a complex truth when so often discourse is limited to 280 characters. The reason Clerith exists is that people are unable to see the big picture, it survives by people squinting and not seeing the "but" that's located right after every piece of evidence they put forward.
This means that you'll often be perceived to be arguing against what is to them the blatantly obvious. It's futile, nuanced argument never wins from emotion, so often you just have to take solace in the idea that "well, it will be fun to see their surprise 4 years from now". So when you get an interview like this, mere weeks after the game releases, which confirms everything that Clotis had been saying about, and had been mocked for, NPTK, you can't help feel a sense of schadenfreude.
Man that's gotta hurt.
This is the difference between Clotis and Cleriths. Cleriths don't really like Aerith, because they want to assassinate her character. Rather than a sad tragic tale of a lifetime of love and loss they want to reduce her character to a shallow cliche rom-com about a capricious girl whose fickle affections change by the hour.
The fact that the first person Aerith starts developing feelings for after 5 years of pining after Zack is a man who is almost literally channeling Zack becomes a meaningless coincidence in the story. The fact that she knows Cloud for 2 weeks, most of which is also spent pining over Zack is viewed as confirmation of how special their love is. It doesn't matter that Aerith doesn't even know who Cloud is. It doesn't matter that Cloud is shown to very obviously be in love with another woman. It doesn't matter that Cloud is clearly losing his mind. It doesn't matter that Cloud is constantly show as being apathetic towards her advancements. Even them fighting is recontextualized as "good chemistry" just to avoid facing reality.
Usually nonsensical romances are seen as bad-writing, but here the cope makes people excuse all the nonsense as "how brilliantly written is this story? They love each other despite it making no sense, now THAT is romance".
Zack is called irrelevant, CC is a "ret-con" and can be ignored, ACC is about how romantic it is to want to die to be with someone. The reason Zack is so predominant in Rebirth is in no way connected to Aerith yearning for exactly the bond he's constantly showing to have with her. The contrast with Clouds apathy means nothing, he definitely isn't there to have some sort of pay-off with Aerith in part 3. Nah, he's just there to give Cloud and Aerith his blessing and to F-off. The reason Tifa is silent and heartbroken at the end has nothing to do with her best friend dying and the man she loves losing his mind. The distance between her and Cloud at that moment is totally not used to illustrate the severity of the situation, or to set-up Tifas importance in the events for part 3. Nah, she doesn't get lines because she's just a side character duh!.
That is how they think, every single character and story is assassinated, everything happens only to service Cloud and Aeriths romance, even Cloud and Aerith themselves are pushed through the mud. Screw the death of Ifalna, screw the death of Zack, screw the complexity surrounding Clouds Zack shaped psychology, screw Aeriths childhood and desire for real bonds of friendship, screw even the story of Aerith dying and how maybe, JUST MAYBE, the scenes surrounding Aeriths death have SOMETHING to do with the strong emotions surrounding death rather than just being "a cute romance scene uwu". Never have I seen any story interpretation reveal such rampant hatred for a character as Cleriths reveal for Aerith. To them, Aerith is totally the kind of person who would bond with Tifa, hear the very personal and intimate story about the promise shared between her and Cloud, hear that Cloud thinks that Zack is dead, and not 5 minutes later write a story about how "she loves Cloud and they wouldn't need no promises like that other girl".
But sure, I'm the one who hates Aerith, not the people who think this is who she is, but me, the person who assumed she'd be less vile than that and that any song she'd write would encompass more than that. I stand up for her character and get mocked, called an Aerith hater, and called "toxic"....and then you get an interview like this.
God it feels good to always have all your positions validated by future content. One has to wonder if the people still arguing for Clerith ever sit back and think "wait, the last 100 times I dismissed these peoples arguments I was proven wrong almost immediately, I am constantly having to shift my goalposts while they're just happily sitting there laughing as they consume media about Cloud kissing Tifa, or proclaiming to become her special existence....maybe I am the delusional one...."
God I can't wait for part 3, it will be hilarious.
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What kinda caught my eye about the stable scene is when Annabeth tells them they came down there to talk and fell asleep Percy says they kissed “a few times” and Annabeth goes “not helping” which kinda implies that they may have (at the very least) kissed a few more times in addition to the two kisses at the stables written in the previous chapter. And also the grunt-whimper in BoO kinda suggests a level of maturity in terms of their physical relationship. Just my two cents :)
thank you for the ask!
ah yes, the notorious grunt-whimper. LOL
but yeah, i can see that! i don’t think it’s unreasonable to say that percy and annabeth, in the 4 months they were dating before his abduction, probably got up to some fairly heavy kissing and petting (which provides a basis for the grunt whimper lol.) possibly more, but im not going to take a stance on that, since i don’t really have a strong belief either way.
now, for the stables scene. honestly, deep down, i really don’t think anything crazy happened. i do definitely agree that the kissing was longer and more intense than rick was allowed to show. that’s what i think he was hinting at when he said “a good, proper kiss without anyone watching.” (maybe not that kiss in particular, but the general idea). however, i don’t think that was the time or place for anything too serious to happen, especially for the first time.
i can see where people are coming from though, thinking more happened. i’ve gone back and forth a lot, tbh. they were just reunited after a very hard separation, they know they could die and human existence could end within weeks, and on top of it they’re very in love, with teenage hormones on top of that. i don’t think people are being weird or wrong or unreasonable by suggesting more happened. in real life, its completely plausible. and if rick ever wanted to imply that they had been fully intimate, that was the time. but the thing is, i think if rick really wanted to imply that, he would have been less clear about exactly what happened. he would have left it more open ended and fade-to-black, you know?
so i think there was probably some intense kissing, maybe some light petting, but then they just cuddled and enjoyed the intimacy of being in each other’s arms. it was an uncertain time and they were scared, so i think they just needed to hold each other, more than anything. but i completely understand why people think more happened. and even though deep down, i don’t think that’s what rick was implying, i think it’s a plausible theory and - *looking at commenters and rebloggers* - people should not hate on others for believing either way.
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Safe and Sound
Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU
Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.
Word count- 2.8k
Notes: Merry Christmas! Thank you to everyone who’s read this so far and to my beta reader who has hyped me up about this whole thing. I’m going to try and update once a week but occasionally it may take a bit longer or less depending on how much I work on it since I am writing it as I go. Hope you enjoy! Also who here knows how to make the masterlist thingymajobs? Because I don't and I want to make one
Chapter 2
A scream shattered the silence and my hand was up in the air before I even knew what I was doing as I uttered those four dreaded words.
“I volunteer as tribute!”
The second I said them Lysander was practically jumping in delight, a grin spread across his face as wide as can be as he proclaimed loudly.
“I believe we have a volunteer.” I stepped forward, ignoring the shocked looks Annie and Mags were throwing my way. Lysander babbled on and on for a few minutes about ‘how exciting for a victor to volunteer’, how ‘he was sure none of the other districts would have tributes’. I felt like throwing up, looking out into a sea of faces, most of them open mouthed, a few simply confused as if wondering who the hell I even was. I saw a couple of people who I used to know, refusing to meet my eyes. My ballet shoes hung by my side, a heavy weight pulling down, anchoring me to reality as my mind drifted.
I turned to Lysander and gave him a pathetic attempt at a smile, lips tilting upwards slightly, a flash of white teeth for a second. “Please,” he said, “Shake hands.”
I didn't realise what he said until Finnick stepped forward and held out his hand to me. My eyebrows furrowed and I bit my lip, twisting the sleeves of my cardigan again, holding out my other arm to hold his hand loosely before pulling it back quickly as I felt my mark burn slightly. He looked confused for a moment before his expression cleared and he put on a charming smile, waving to the crowd. As for me, I stood there silently, chewing on my lip worriedly, wondering why I volunteered, why I didn't even hesitate.
“Your tributes for the 75th annual Hunger Games!” Lysander yelled to the crowd over their obedient clapping as peacekeepers pointed guns at them, threatening to shoot. All of a sudden we were herded off stage and I was dragged to the same room I had been in all those years ago, the paint still peeling, a splintered chair and table on dusty stone. I took a few steps in and collapsed on the floor, chest heaving as I tried to take in deep breaths. I curled my hands into fists, nails cutting into the soft skin of my hands, a few tears dripping down my face but I heard heavy footsteps down the corridor and quickly composed myself, brushing away the tears and standing up, elegantly sitting down in the chair as the door opened. Mags walked in, escorted by a guard who muttered.
“Five minutes.” And closed the door behind him. Mags stared at me for a second before walking over and placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her and she mouthed one word. Why?
I smiled slightly as I answered.
“She doesn't deserve to die. She needs to live and I'll do everything I can to get Finnick out and back to her.” Mags looked confused so I rolled up my sleeve and showed her my wrist. “He's my soulmate,” she blinked quickly and I continued,”And he doesn't love me but he loves her and they deserve to live.” She looked angry and somehow managed to croak out a few words.
“What about you?” I patted her hand, standing up and looking out the window.
“I don't matter, I just want him to be safe and sound. I want him to be happy, even if it's not with me.” She looked at me pityingly, brown eyes filled with emotion as she folded me into her arms; I broke down, sobbing silently into her shoulder, tears soaking the fabric. “I just can't let him die, not if I can do something about it.” I managed to get out between hiccuping sobs and sniffles. She comforted me gently, stroking my hair with wrinkled hands and all too soon it was time for her to go.
The door swung open and Mags scurried out before they could drag her away, the last thing I saw of her was her long grey hair before another person walked in and the door was slammed shut behind them. Annie stood in front of me. Long auburn hair tangled, sea green eyes gazing at me curiously. She took in my puffy eyes and red face streaked with tears saying nothing as she kneeled down and took my hands in hers.
“Why did you do that?” She asked quietly, not looking me in the eye, “Why would you give up your life?”
“We aren't so dissimilar you and I.” I spoke, removing my hands from hers and laying them on my knees. “The games,” my voice cracked,”The games left us both broken beyond belief. The difference between us is that you had someone there to build you back up after you came out. I didn't. Or I did, but they didn't care enough to stay. We've both been dropped and shattered on impact but you've been fixed, mostly, the cracks are still there and with the right push it'll all come crashing down. But me, I've got nobody and nothing left, everyone left me to crumble to pieces as if I would just be fine, but I'm not, I'm just a pile of broken glass waiting for someone to finally care and put me back together. So I volunteered. Because you have everything to lose; I’ve got nothing left.” Annie said nothing, just watched me carefully,
“I'll get Finnick out for you,” I whispered,”You don't have to worry about him. I promise.” The door opened and she was led out, throwing a last glance over her shoulder at me, a strange look in her eyes as if she knew something I didn’t.
I was left alone to my thoughts again. Wrapping the ribbons of my shoes around my hands repetitively. Wondering what it would be like this time around. Would I even have a chance at survival? I dismissed that one immediately, with victors like the ones from districts 1 and 2, plus Katniss and Peeta from last year, I wasn't getting out alive. I was good but not that good. I could throw knives perfectly, fight in hand to hand combat and tie complex knots with lengths of rope, I was even half decent at using a bow and arrow. But compared to others I was weak.
The door creaked open again but this time no one entered except some peacekeepers in their white uniforms and masks, they dragged me out, gloved hands twisting my skin. I shook my arms out of their hold and glared at them, they let me loose and marched me along the corridor to the exit where a car would be waiting. They opened the side door and pushed me in. My head knocked against the metal and I hissed in annoyance but said nothing. The car pulled away from the justice building and I stared out at it for the last time, the carved marble flawless and perfect but oh so cold. My eyes trailed over the shapes of people outside, cheering my name; screaming for the games to stop. They hadn't even known who I was before, why did they care now? Why did they care just as I was sent off to my death once again? Why did they care when all they had ever done was pretend I didn't exist?
How could they stand there and scream my name, their beloved victor, when they had never before known me? How dare they pretend to care about me. How dare they think I wanted this. How dare they congratulate me on my actions when the choice didn't even exist to begin with. In those moments I was filled with nothing but disgust for the people of my district. We were supposed to be united against the Capitol yet here they were excited for me to go back in. Granted there was the idea that if they didn't then they would be made an example of by peacekeepers for not complying with orders. But behind every forced action there is a planted seed that was simply nurtured to form the fully fledged evil.
I sighed, propping my head up on my hand as we entered the station, reporters from the Capitol waiting for the chance to get a shot of Finnick or I. We jolted to a stop and Finnick stepped calmly out of the car in front, waving to people, giving them his charming smile, playing up to his persona as the Capitol darling. I took a deep breath as he disappeared from sight, people screaming for one last look at him, and pushed down the handle to open the door. I stepped out and was immediately assaulted by loud noises, too loud. They ripped through my skull and I flinched while I walked along the pathway that was cleared for me. They screamed my name and they wouldn't stop, it echoed in my head, their voices like nails as they raked down the walls I had built up in my mind to block out the bad and keep the good close. The peacekeepers surrounded my shaking form, tiny compared to the crowds gathered; herded me to the platform where the train was waiting. Sleek and silver, like a bullet, and just as fast as one.
I stumbled over the gap where the platform ended and the train doors opened, allowing me to topple to the floor in a graceless heap. I groaned and sat up, pressing a hand to the side of my head and frowning in annoyance as I felt the slightest of bruises there. My feet slipped out of my sandals so I picked them up in one hand alongside my pointe shoes and pushed myself to a standing position leaning on the wall of the train. I took a minute to calm myself, mentally preparing for the interesting conversation that was sure to come when I walked into the next compartment. I dropped my head forwards and wiped a hand over my face before sighing and reaching out to the handle, pushing it down.
I stepped in and three sets of eyes locked on me, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“Hi.” I cleared my throat and they resumed their conversation. I relaxed in relief and dropped into a chair at the table, immediately reaching out for a plate. I filled it with all kinds of foods, meat, pasta, vegetables and more. A luxury I couldn't bring myself to afford with the money I had won, food I tended to steer clear of because in my mind it belonged to the Capitol and eating it made me one of them. But I figured I was going to die soon so I might as well indulge while I could. I speared a piece of fish and potato and it was halfway to my mouth when I noticed eyes on me again. Lysander was giving me a look of wonder as he leaned forwards onto his hands.
“So Y/N, tell me why did you volunteer? We need to know so we can spin this story to give you the best chance of winning that we can you see.” He smiled and bit into a leg of chicken, tearing the meat away with his teeth. My mind blanked, I couldn't exactly tell him the real reason I volunteered, that would not go down well with the current company, I glanced over to Finnick and my eyes widened as our eyes connected for a split second before I snapped my gaze back to my plate. I shrugged my shoulders and shoved the food in my mouth. Lysander’s mouth twisted into a scowl at my disregard for him and Mags, seated next to him, smiled down at her plate.
I swallowed my food and sipped on water in a glass next to me before I answered his question
“I didn't want her to die.” He spluttered in delight.
“I can work with that. A story of two best friends, one worried for the other's safety so she volunteers to save her from certain death.” I shook my head at his words.
“No. We aren't friends. I just didn't think she deserved to die and that's the only story you're going to tell.”
“But, but, but,” Lysander stammered under my glare.
“But nothing,” I said calmly, “There is no story, I volunteered because I felt sorry for her, nothing more nothing less. Now if you'll excuse me,” I shoved the chair back and stood up, “I'm going to my room and I don't want to see you, until morning.” With that I stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door shut behind me, rattling the ornaments and pictures hanging on the walls. My footsteps were heavy as I almost ran along the corridor, I finally reached the door I wanted and stared at it, remembering how seven years ago I had stood in the exact same spot.
My thoughts were pretty different about being in the Hunger Games now. Back then I had had no choice so it was just an unfortunate circumstance I found myself in with the added threat of death. Now it was more of an actual game and I suppose that was the point, throw previous victors into an arena together, seasoned killers, guaranteed chaos would ensue. They'd have the perfect show, death upon death that would look interesting and be absolutely brutal because the executioners would all know what they were doing. It would be the most viewed year of the games in history. They’d be making hunters into performers, fighting to stay alive for the cameras. Doing anything to gain sponsors. It wouldn’t surprise me if some people went too far. But most of all, we’d be angry. Angry that we had to go back, they’d promised we were done and now it seemed they lied.
I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It smelled of fresh peaches and vanilla, the white bedsheet pulled tightly across the mattress, light green comforter spread across the duvet. I gently closed the door behind me and threw my sandals on the floor. I leapt onto the bed, sinking into the mountain of pillows piled up near the headboard. A headboard engraved with swirls of waves and shells to represent district 4, I looked closer and on every wave was a set of initials and a date, the initials of every other district 4 tribute in the history of the games and the date they were reaped. A tradition upheld by every new victim. I traced over my initials on one of the waves and picked up the knife I had taken a few minutes ago, I picked a new wave and ripped into it, my initials carved as deeply as possible. A message that I was not going easy. I would go but I would fight every step of the way.
I chucked the knife down and admired my handiwork. I was no artist but if I were this would be my best piece. Rolling over I stood up and made my way to the wardrobe. Opening it I found an assortment of clothes and night dresses. I picked out a white one that fell loosely to my knees and pulled my pointe shoes on, tying the ribbons around my ankles and standing up. Humming a song, I rose onto my toes, hands lifting above my head as I twirled around, the skirt floating around me. I kicked one leg into the air, leaning to the other side and bringing my arms close to my body, curving them in. I danced for what seemed like hours, lost in a world of my own as I spun around in circles, sweeping my arms above my head and out in front of me. Finally growing dizzy I stopped, one foot turned out in front of me, the other pointed behind me as I let my arms drop slowly to my side, my humming stopped and I opened my eyes. Remembering the reason I was here, to help Finnick. All urge to dance left me as I quietly undid the knotted ribbons, pulling the shoes off and staring at my feet, blistered and bruised. Plasters taped on them to stop the cuts being infected. I climbed into the bed, pulling the sheets over my body, shivering as the cold fabric touched my skin and then burrowing further into the warmth it provided. I yanked the comforter closer. Rubbing my cheek on the fluffy material, hand reaching out to turn off the lights, switch just in reach making a sharp clicking sound as I flipped it. My eyes started to drift closed in the darkness, my limbs tired from the exhausting day and I fell into dark oblivion.
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Audrina Thatcher She/Her ★
She grew up with both of her parents in her life but they could never be around as much as they wanted to be. Her parents were highschool sweethearts who dropped out once they became pregnant with her. Audra is the oldest of 5 kids but she always felt like the actual parent of her household. She still loved her parents more than anything, she cared for them just as she cared for her younger siblings. Once all the kids were in bed Audra was warming dinner for her parents who had to work the late shifts because they paid more. She would have to go to school the next day exhausted, barely being able to stay awake in class. She was the one who picked up her siblings from school and helped them with their homework. She fed them, put them to bed, and each day repeated the same.
She’s bisexual
She’s 5 foot 8 inches
She smells like Geranium scented soap
She still talks to her 4 other siblings secretly. She has 2 younger brothers named Theodore and Edward and 2 younger sisters named Rosemary and Frances. Their mom purposely named them older names because she thought they sounded smarter. She’s the closest to Theodore and talks to him every day on the phone. He’s the only person she’s been honest about her “ailment”. He was hesitant at first and thought she was losing her mind and stopped talking to her for a while. But eventually he accepted her, but he still sends her recommendations for therapists every month.
When she could still cook her favorite thing to make was Carbonara. It was the first thing she’d make when her family got food stamps at the beginning of the month and they could afford meat. Her siblings called it “fancy spaghetti”.
Her favorite color is cornflower blue
Regardless of how exhausted she was every day she had very good grades in school and was always praised by her teachers. She always wanted to go to parent teacher conferences as a kid to show off to her parents but they never had time.
She got into college on a scholarship and was planning on getting a degree in business. She was the one who managed her family’s money and all the bills. She hoped those skills that were forced on her could actually get her somewhere in life.
Audra worked a part time job as a waitress to help her family while she was gone. She found out from her younger brother Theodore that her parents were using the money to gamble. He didn’t want to tell her at first but he found an electricity shut off notice and was scared so he ran to the only person he knew he could trust.
She ended up dropping out of school because she was working too many hours to try and keep up with her parents spending and began failing all her classes. Losing her one chance at changing her life was the final nail in the coffin for Audra. She realized she couldn’t take care of her parents anymore and instead she needed to take care of herself since no one else ever would. She refused to move back in with her parents or give them another cent, once she told her parents that her mother slapped her across the face. That was the last time she ever saw her family.
After shoving her family into her past she did whatever she wanted, she spent her money however, slept with whoever she wanted, went to clubs, made friends, and had fun. For once in her life she was finally free, until she wasn’t.
The day she was turned she woke up in an alley with the stars lighting the sky. She was thrown into a corner, faced down like a piece of trash. She doesn’t remember much from the beginnings of her hunger besides their screams.
After every feeding it was like she became conscious again, the world became clear, and the screams of her victims would echo through her mind. She remembered the crunch of their bones as she gripped their throat. She remembered the blood sliding down her throat and warming her belly. She was a monster. She needed to die but she deserved a chance at living more.
She would prowl clubs, bars, casinos, anywhere with pathetic little people who would give up a little blood for a fun time. She would pick up the most desperate person she could find and take them up to a room she made sure they paid for. She would seduce them, fuck them, and then drain just enough blood so she wouldn’t kill them, rob them of everything they had in their pockets, and then kick them out.
She met a woman named Leona at a casino bar, but Leona was different; her eyes weren’t glazed over like every other addict ruining their lives in her vicinity. She wasn’t oozing with desperation and helplessly trying to hide a wedding ring Audra would just steal anyways. Leona was alluring, her eyes blazed a fire over every inch of Audra’s skin, her plump red lips had a confident smirk like she knew all she would have to do is wave her hand and Audra would crawl right into her lap.
Audra didn’t fuck Leona, Leona dominated her. She consumed every bit of her, and Audra was happy to give herself up on a platter. The moment the bite came Audra couldn’t stop herself from drinking her dry. Leona’s blood was intoxicating like nothing she had ever tasted before. She was watching the life drain from Leona fast, she was shaky and pale, but she didn’t pull away from her. Instead, her eyes rolled up into her skull and she was desperately pulling Audra closer to her like she was urging her to suck even more. It was like they were stars hurtling towards earth together ready to destroy anything in their path. Leona was special and Audra knew she would never be able to let her go.
All of her clothes are stolen or bought from stolen credit cards from rich assholes she fucked. She would specially steal from dickheads who had pictures of their families hiding inside their wallets.
She thought being a vampire could at least give her cool powers like telekinesis or mind control but all she got was a thirst for blood and to look desperately anemic.
She loved dying her hair as a kid to every cheap hair dye color she could get her hands on. Since turning her hair no longer grows so she buys wigs now whenever she wants to changer her hair.
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can i request the alternate ending to this fic
considering in my thoughts after reader died i don't think aegon will even let rhaenyra touch a strand of the baby and im also want to see jace and luke reaction jejdjejejj
Hi anons! I put both of these together, hope you don't mind! I must say I love some sadness. Hope its what you are looking for :)
aegon ii targaryen x niece! wife! reader
pretty much the ask
word count: 1034 words
reading time: about 6 minutes
warnings: death, le sadness
Part 1 || Part 2 || Ending 1 || Ending 3 || Ending 4 || Headcanon 1 || Headcanon 2
The hurried footsteps of the small group echoed through the hall. Unlike before it was deathly silent, no more did your screams bounce off the walls, your voice was no longer heard and it was as though the world stopped moving. Not hearing you anymore made Aegon speed up, jogging past Rhaenyra and her sons.
The doors were thrown over with little regard to whoever may be close to them. Aegon's eyes roam around the room before they finally land on his wife. The first thing he noticed was the dark red blood that covered the white of the sheets. His mother's sobs filled his ears next, his eyes drifting to the side of the bed where her face was covered by her hands. But it was clear she was crying by how her body moved with each cry. He then registered how pale you were, almost the color of the sheet.
No words were uttered for him to understand what happened. The maesters had failed you, they allowed you to die. The man flew to your side, hands clutching yours as though his will alone would bring you back. But you were cold to the touch, your usual warmth had left you. Tears began to well up in his eyes as his brain began to realise what happened. "no...no, no, no, no," the words poured out of his mouth like a string of prays.
When Rhaenrya saw the scene in front of her she broke, tears welled up in her eyes but they did not fall. Her fists clenched by her side as she takes in the two cryings next to you. Her sweet child, her little girl, was gone. She remembered the day you were born, how she held you in her arms as you wailed. How she swore to protect you from all the worries and pressures of the world. Yet she had failed you, her only daughter. You died thinking she hated you, that you no longer held a place in her heart. All because she was too stubborn to speak to you.
Jacaerys was beside himself with grief, like his mother he had not spoken to you since arriving. He believed you slighted them in some way, siding with his mother instead of his little sister. He should have not cared about this stupid rivalry, you were his sister above all else. He felt like he failed you. Tears streamed down his cheeks, unlike his mother, he held no reservations about crying in front of these people. He would come up beside Alicent, not wanting to get caught up in Aegon's grief.
Similarly to his older brother, Lucerys was distraught. He stood there frozen in place, simply looking at your pale and bloodied body. Despite being so young the boy had witnessed so much death, yet it never got easier. Especially when he gazed at his sister, only adding to the bodies.
Alicent lifted her head from her hands to see Jacaerys standing there. The woman sniffled softly, standing up from her stead before moving over to the other side where her son sat. Jacaerys took Alicent's seat, grabbing onto his sister's cold and limp hand. A delicate hand began to rub Aegon's back, trying her best to comfort her distraught and broken son.
A high-pitched wail took everyone's attention away from the bed for a moment. The door opens and shows a timid and frightened maid holding a newborn child. It had been washed and wrapped up in a blanket, the maid trying her best to calm it. The Maester instructed her to show the child to the Queen and its father, but there was no indication that so many people would be there. The little boy in her arms was crying his heart out, little face contorted and fists balled up. Whisps of white hair adored his little head, the hair was still slightly damp.
Rhaenyra was the closest to the maid and the first person to move. Wanting to see her grandson, to hold him in her arms and maybe even take him away from here. To raise the child herself and away from the claws of the vultures here. But Aegon shoot up, face pulled into a murderous glare. "Don't you dare touch him!" His voice shocked everyone, the maid nearly jumping out of her skin. Rhaenyra stops in her tracks, her hand returning to her side. Turning to her half-brother she spoke loudly, in order to be heard over the small child. "He is my daughter's son, my bloo-" Aegon marched forwards anger blazing in his eyes. "He is my son! My blood! My wife's child!" He screamed, the fire inside him burning brightly.
Everyone was taken aback Lucerys moved to his mother's side, not only to get a better look at his nephew but to also support her. Jacaerys took longer to move to his mother's side, not wanting to leave you just yet. He was not ready to let you go just yet, to leave you cold and alone. But he joined his brother and mother. Alicent moved to her son's side, standing behind him just slightly.
Rhaenyra's eyes burn at Aegon, but she would not fight him right now. Not in front of her daughter's body and certainly not in front of your child. Glancing at you she moves across the room quickly, bending down slightly and placing a small kiss on your forehead. A wordless goodbye and display of the affection she should have been showing you all along. A single tear slips past her eyes and lands on your forehead. "My sweet child, I have always loved you. I pray to the gods you knew that." Her voice was soft and kind, pouring her grief into her words. Wishing her words could bring you back, even just for a moment so she could tell you how much she loved you.
"I will see my grandson. Perhaps not today, but soon." The woman says power is portrayed in her voice. Moving to the door her sons follow. Leaving Aegon and Alicetn along with you and your son. There was an underlying threat in her voice, one that may come soon.
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While I am still (always!) thinking about it, it is perhaps silly that the background details in Star Trek: TOS episode 4 The Naked Time made lightbulbs for Spirk go off in my brain, but my argument is very simple: if the wall writing was meant to be just silly, random phrases, then why put a loaded phrase like "sinner repent" on the doors of the turbolift? Why show it? Is it necessary to the episode, or could the entire turbolift scene have been cut without altering anything? Why have incidental music play when it is shown? Why zoom in on Kirk's sweaty face after he sees it? Why not show anything else on the doors, like a silly doodle of Kirk with a mustache? Would it ruin the scene preceeding it with Spock admitting to his love for his mother, his feelings of shame for his friendship with Kirk, and Kirk's willful rejection of love entirely/using the ship as the object for his love because he cannot love a member of his crew? If Kirk was truly in love with his yeoman, then where is the sin in it? Is she married? Is such a relationship explicitly against Starfleet regulations to the point that it errs on a moral failing? Would replacing the words with something else ruin the episode as a whole? How so? Spock's breakdown was supposed to be played as a joke with a mustache drawn on Spock as he cries, but Nimoy fought for it to be played in earnest and did it in one take. Did that alter the rest of the episode as a consequence? Or, supposing the the rest of the episode went as originally written, does this mean the words Kirk was always going to see were, in fact, "sinner repent" making it necessary to show for the sake of the story being told, be it that Kirk is Bi or Trans or feels love beyond friendship for Spock or some combination of the above?
(The true reality is probably that someone in the crew just painted whatever popped into their head, blissfully unaware that nearly 60 years later, some rando on the internet would go insane trying to rationalize a random action as a deliberate and thought-out choice. Or it was all a deliberate choice when one considers how expensive TOS was and how clips and music would later be reused to save money (the music that plays with the virus infections was reused in later episodes, for example). If any of it was unnecessary, wouldn't it have been cut to save film, budget, and time? If I could find a true transcript of the original script complete with direction and set notes... that would clear my madness up. "Sinner repent" is my white whale, the hill I will die on. If only I knew what I was getting myself into on February 5th at approximately 9:30 pm 😔)
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Why Byler is the Only Logical Outcome of Stranger Things 4: A Necessary Breakdown of Will, Mike, and Eleven’s Narrative Arcs
Buckle in besties, this is gonna be a long one.
I’m going to preface this by saying I’ve been a die-hard Stranger Things fan since 2016 and I’ve watched every season as it’s dropped, reading theories and analysis between seasons. I adored Mileven for seasons 1 and 2.
However, I truly believe that, from what we’ve seen of Mike, Will, and Eleven’s individual and combined arcs over seasons 3 and 4 Vol. 1, the only outcome that makes logical and narrative sense to the story Stranger Things is trying to tell is a Mileven breakup with Byler endgame.
I’m not going to go into extended metaphors and background details, or even what actors have said in interviews; we’re talking about making sense of characters’ actions and words from a narrative standpoint. As a lifelong writer and storyteller, I’m trying to be more objective. And, assuming the Duffer brothers want to follow satisfying emotional arcs for not only their characters but their characters’ relationships, signs are pointing toward Byler.
Let’s break it down.
Guiding Principles of Narrative
First, let’s talk about what I mean when I’m talking about character arcs and things that make sense narratively. It’s important to note a few things before moving forward. These are key principles that inform the viewpoint of a storyteller and how I’m analyzing this.
Everything has meaning and everything is intentional.
Characters start a story with a flaw, go on a journey that forces them to confront that flaw, and end the story by showing how that journey has forced them to change and grow.
Forcing a character to confront inner conflict and grow from it is an essential ingredient of storytelling. Characters must change as a result of plot events.
Eleven
We have to talk about Eleven first. People tend to think Byler shippers hate El and Mileven, but it’s important to note we’re not talking about what characters deserve, or what we think of them, we’re talking about what makes sense narratively. I adore Eleven and want her to have a happily ever after as much as anybody, but I do not see that happening with Mike.
In season 4, we see Eleven feeling useless without her powers. She’s bullied and doesn’t know how to stand up for herself. She thinks her boyfriend only loves her when she’s a superhero.
We see her go on a long act two journey to recover her powers. It follows that in Act 3, we will see her return and save the day, likely fuelled by the support of her friends and possibly even by her love for Mike.
However, this has not forced Eleven to confront her fear and learn the truth, that she is not useless without her powers. Even with a sweet monologue from Mike, it would feel empty and unfulfilling for him to confess his love to her only after she returns to the action hero version of herself. Eleven would always have doubts about whether he loves her for who she is.
So what would force Eleven to confront her inner conflict?
Eleven is spending this season learning about who she is, and what she is capable of, in every sense. It’s important to note that El’s most important growth moments happen when she is away from Mike. Season 2’s Kali episode, season 3’s breakup, season 4’s adventures in Nevada. When Mike is with her, such as in season 3, her growth stunts; they both become accessories to the other rather than unique characters with arcs. The focus becomes about their relationship.
Additionally, she and Mike have been in a relationship for a portion of her formative developmental years, and the rest of those years were spent growing up in a lab. Eleven has not had the freedom to fully grow as a person individually. We see this in season 3 with Max encouraging her to be her own person. This is a consistent pattern and the show is making a clear argument that Eleven needs to develop as a person before she can develop in a relationship.
I do believe Eleven loves Mike. However, I think by the end of Volume 1 she has already realized Mike doesn’t love her the way she wants him to. She isn’t stupid. I think this is especially apparent in the scene where she is being driven away from Mike and does not look at him as he promises to make things right, talking about her being arrested but alluding to their fight. She’s already resigned herself: she doesn’t believe him.
Staying with Mike would mean choosing the familiar path where she is not forced to change. Ultimately, if her arc is about discovering herself, standing up for herself, and realizing she is worthy of unconditional love, I believe that she needs to break up with Mike in order to put herself first.
Mike
The most obvious argument against Byler is that Mike loves Eleven, so he can’t be gay.
Mike does love Eleven. He cares deeply for her. He shows it every season. Mileven stans, I get it. But it truly seems like this season’s developments are preparing us for the fact that that love is platonic-with-a-capital-P. While Mike could be bisexual, I believe he is gay and repressing himself, staying with El because it is safe, and pushing Will away because he’s afraid of his own feelings toward Will. He’s trying desperately to play the role of the Good Straight Boyfriend but it’s not quite working.
Some might think this is far-fetched, so I’ll back up and talk more objectively. In season 4 vol 1, we see certain inconsistencies in Mike’s actions compared to his actions in previous seasons. Our attention is supposed to be drawn to these seemingly separate behaviors: he can’t tell Eleven he loves her to her face, despite having said it about her in season 3. And, he’s brushing off his best friend Will—that brutal hug—despite being previously characterized as a loyal friend who puts Will first—such as when he went through the rain to apologize to Will after their fight in season 3, a time during which he was also fighting with Eleven.
These are two very distinct differences we as the audience are supposed to notice. They can each be explained away individually: he can’t tell El he loves her because of his parents’ loveless marriage, or because he has a hard time expressing his feelings because of toxic masculinity, or any number of things. He’s brushing off his best friend because he’s either uncomfortable with Will’s queerness or his crush, or simply because they’ve grown apart after a year apart.
These could make sense individually, but we aren’t meant to see them individually, we are meant to see them as a result of some root character attribute. We’re not explicitly told what root flaw or misbelief is informing Mike’s behavior in Vol. 1—not in the way we’re more directly told how Eleven feels like a monster or how Will is afraid to express his feelings for Mike. Instead, we are meant to guess. What root belief could the character have that explains both of his strained relationships in Volume 1? What explanation addresses all of his strange behaviors simultaneously, rather than one at a time?
It’s also important to note that Mike primarily ignores Will when he’s around Eleven; when just Mike and Will are together, Mike goes gentle and kind in a way that feels starkly contrasted to the way he acts around Eleven this season, and especially contrasted to the way he treats Will at the airport. If Mike is truly just homophobic (which I doubt) or just has a hard time expressing his feelings, why then is he so able to express his feelings toward Will?
Additionally, if his arc is simply to learn how to speak his feelings, and it culminates to him confessing his love to Eleven, this would truly be a disappointing and underwhelming arc for Mike. How does that move him forward, challenge him, help him change as a character? Nothing changes because that is the same emotional climax for him as in season 3.
Conversely, him accepting his queerness and admitting his feelings toward Will would force him to reflect, learn, and grow in a way that continuing his relationship with Eleven simply doesn’t. It would move the story forward in an interesting way that impacts the dynamics of the whole party rather than maintaining the status quo.
Mike’s journey is not so much about him expressing himself as it is about being honest with himself. I’m certain Mike cares deeply for Eleven and doesn’t want to hurt her, but he must acknowledge this truth about himself and who he is in order to grow.
Will
Will is the easiest to tackle of the three, because his crush on Mike is much more overt than Mike’s feelings for Will or the impending doom of Mileven. In season 4, we see him crushing on Mike and afraid to confess his feelings.
We don’t need to address all of Will’s queer-coding over the seasons, but just in season 4, we can acknowledge the painting, the longing gazes, the jealousy, the coded conversation about “scary … to say how you really feel,” emphasized by a fear of being rejected with “because what if they don’t like the truth?”
It follows that his arc is about getting up the nerve to confess his feelings, with the resolution being him learning to accept himself, and that his friends love him no matter what. This could theoretically happen by Mike gently rejecting him but reassuring that they’re always friends—but that’s not interesting.
Why would that matter? How would Mike grow from that? How does that impact any of the other characters? It doesn’t. If Will is rejected, his season 4 storyline is almost entirely isolated and unnecessary, with no consequences or impact on the rest of the group. It’s lazy storytelling and I don’t believe the Duffers would do it if it weren’t connected to a greater storyline at play. If his confession results in requited feelings, it would impact not just Mike and Will individually but also Eleven and the Party at large. In short, it would create much more interesting consequences and tension, and I can’t imagine why the Duffers would have written Will’s storyline in if it weren’t going to play out in a way that had that greater impact.
So basically…
For all characters involved, Byler endgame makes the most narrative sense as a natural result of the setup of Volume 1. I truly am optimistic about this queer couple getting a happy ending and hope that this explains the frenzy I’m in right now.
People argue that they wouldn’t trash Mileven after having built it up for three seasons; I would argue that they built it up for 2, and now have spent 2 more breaking it down. Others argue that it would be coming out of nowhere; I would argue that you might have been watching the show with heteronormative tinted goggles.
I could write so much more about Byler making narrative sense with the greater themes of coming-of-age and self-discovery, and I could easily break down every season 3 and 4 scene in painstaking detail, but I think the most important argument that could be made is that Byler is truly the best narrative outcome for each individual character based on what we’ve seen so far.
Anyways, send me Byler asks :)
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More Than Anyone Pt. 6
Summary: Rhaenyra is crowned, Y/N is named heir before the masses…but not without sacrifice.
18+ ONLY, Targcest, light smut
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Daemon Targaryen is not a man who takes anything lying down. This recent assault against his wife and child is no exception. There is no need to sit around with their thumbs up their asses, chasing dead ends. It is clear to him that there are few people in the kingdom with the will and know how to poison Rhaenyra so cruelly.
Because he cannot say which member of house Hightower has betrayed them, he has made the decision to eliminate them all in one fell swoop. Caraxes is more than happy to assist. The dragon rears back without warning, screeching their frustration up to the ceilings of the dragon pit.
“Little bird,” Daemon clicks his tongue in annoyance. Watching as Aegon feebly attempts to put Y/N behind him. “You shouldn’t have come, the sight will upset you.”
“And finding out from the townsfolk that you’ve executed my husband and his family would not upset me?” Y/N retorts. Allowing Aegon to put his arms around her waist, holding fast to his wrists. Let me speak.
“Last we spoke you were less than thrilled with said husband. Thought you might thank me.”
“No matter how hard the storm lashes between us, never would I wish to be without him. Aegon would not harm my mother, for he knows that it would harm me.” Y/N tells him.
“Are you not disheartened by this?” Her stepfather scoffs. “For all your mother has suffered, you feel nothing?”
“That is untrue. I wish this assailant swiftly punished for their crimes, to the fullest extent of the law.”
“Then step aside.”
“Daemon, please. You’ve a daughter,” Y/N watches his face soften, “Visenya. Healthy. My mother, our queen, is recovering in her chambers. There is no need to rush an unjust execution. Let us be thorough so that we might eliminate the real threat to our family.”
Daemon’s jaw ticks, he has waited long for this. After all the greens hath done. To his brother, to Rhaenyra…to their children.
“I know they are not perfect,” Y/N huffs a laugh, “infuriating at best.”
The corner of the rogue prince’s mouth twitches upward.
“But we are one house and we do not slay our kin.”
Caraxes grunts, puffing harshly through their nostrils.
“If you are to be Queen, it will be your duty to crush rebellion. You speak like my brother, who never had the stomach for it.” Daemon shifts his weight between feet, a hand curled over the hilt of his sword.
“Give me a chance.” Y/N breathes, “take my hand. Let us uncover the truth and punish the guilty. I will prove that I can crush rebellion at its root. I will avenge my mother, I will do you proud.”
Daemon takes a step toward her, against his better judgment. Extending a hand to her, “one chance, Y/N.”
“One chance.”
————————————————————————
It’s not until Y/N has safely returned Aegon to her chambers that she feels crushed beneath the weight of what has transpired. She can sit and cry about it, she can run off to tell her mother or…she can take action. Show Daemon that she is not weak, that she deserves this and will fight for what is hers.
“Dōna riña.” Sweet girl. Aegon breathes.
“I want them dead. Whoever has committed this atrocity against my mother, I want their head on a spike before the fucking moon turns.”
Aegon blinks at his wife. Her dark hair has sprung free from its braids, hanging about her flushed cheeks. “If it is the second coming of Maegor you long for, I will be that. Make no mistake, my dearest love, I live for you and I die for you. You must heed my warning, Daemon’s wrath is tame compared to mine.”
It confounds her for a moment, the fire burning in his eyes. How this was the same man who held her close and told her he loved her, the man who would fuck her until she cried when it suited him. Aegon is light and he is dark; so is she.
She wants him, however he is, was and will be. Y/N wants Aegon. His love, his fury, his passion and his pain. Not Maegor or Daemon, nor any man between. I want you.
A knock at the door turns both their attention away from the discussion.
In strides Jace, and two members of the Queen’s guard. “Y/N, our mother has begun preparations for her coronation. We must report to the dragon pit, townspeople have already begun to gather there.”
“Very well,” Y/N sniffs.
“Mother has a dress prepared for you. The very same so wore when our late grandsire named her as heir before the masses. Today she will name you, all must swear their loyalty; to her, to you…to house Targaryen.”
“And those who refuse?”
“You know what will happen, sister.” Jacaerys squares his shoulders.
————————————————————————
Only on bended knees of the seven does Y/N find comfort. Rhaenyra is crowned, naming her firstborn daughter her successor.
And after, when the Queen returns to her chambers and the newborn babe; Y/N is left with her eldest brothers.
“We’ve a lead.” Lucerys informs her, quietly.
“Come.” Jace insists, taking Y/N’s hand. Leading them through the corridors, their pace leisurely, not wishing to attract attention.
Their stopping point is just off the royal quarters. A room in which the only living Strong takes up residence. Y/N looks to her brother. Surely not here, surely not him.
Luce remains just beyond the door, standing watch. Larys is sat in his chair, cane in hand. As if he’s been expecting them.
“Prince Jacaerys, Princess Y/N. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We know it was you who poisoned our mother, we have it on good authority.” Jace tells him.
“Whom ever hath told you this is surely mistaken.” Larys offers a coy smirk.
“We want to know why.” Y/N interjects. “Perhaps with good reason we could leave this behind us.”
“What do you imagine would happen if the King’s daughter birthed herself three bastards and married the eldest to the next rightful king, in an attempt to pass her off as the heir?” The man asks. “Would this go unpunished? For a while mayhaps, but not forever.”
“But if the children are not bastards?” Jacaerys squares his shoulders. “If their legitimacy was upheld by their true born father and their grandsire, the king? By all accounts of the law those children are not bastards.”
“They are abominations. To be eradicated from the bloodline. Not to farther besmirch the name of their house.”
The door swings open wide, several guards flooding inside, taking Larys into custody as Lucerys watches from the entryway.
“What were you thinking?” Aegon demands, gripping Y/N’s wrist and pulling her aside.
“Aegon.” Y/N blinks at him. Had he followed her?
“Do you think me a fool? That I could not have handled this?”
“No, I…” she stammers. “I know you could have.”
“Why then did you come? Without protection?” The prince snaps, teeth bared in his anger, eyes glossy.
“I had my brothers.”
Aegon puts a hand to her belly, “this babe is mine. Yours and mine, do you understand? You do not get to run off and cause harm to him as you see fit.”
“Aegon, I wasn’t.” Y/N shakes her head. “I would never harm our child. I was careful, I-”
“You will never run off like that again.”
“I will not,” Y/N promises.
“If anything had happened to you…”
“I am sorry, Aegon. To worry you, to upset you so was not my intent.”
His fingers tremble as they move to her cheek, cupping it.
“I love you and our children. More than anyone.” Y/N assures him.
The words land as blows to his gut, he is furious with her. Yet his heart yearns to hold her close. Love is the death of duty, duty is the death of love. “You know how dearly I adore you. Allow me to see this manner finished.”
“I will come with you.”
“No, you will not.” Aegon hisses. “You will go to your rooms and remain there with our children until I am through.”
“My love-”
“Do not argue.” He warns.
Y/N swallows hard. Accepting a light brush of his lips in parting.
The Princess does not see her husband again until after their children are long abed. Aegon enters their rooms to find his bride in the bathing tub. It is large enough for two and the Prince wastes no time removing his clothes and stepping inside.
He sits opposite Y/N, their eyes meeting. Daring one another to make the first move.
Y/N draws in a breath. “I understand that you are angry with me-”
“You are…” he breaks off, searching for words. “I did not want that for you.”
“Aegon, I am a woman grown. You cannot shield me from the world.”
“Surely for longer than you’ve allowed me to. I am not angry…I am beside myself with worry for you. I am sick over it. When I sleep, I dream of you. When I wake, I long for you and,” he draws in a shuttering breath, “I need you.”
“You have me,” Y/N tells him. “All I have done is to protect you.”
“Do not bother.” No one else ever did.
“It is not a bother, Aegon. You are not a bother. Your thoughts and feelings are important to me. You are important to me. I will spend the rest of my life proving it so.”
“Come,” Aegon sighs, reaching a hand toward her in invitation. “Come, my sweet girl.”
“Forgive me.” Y/N breathes, allowing her husband to situate her in his lap. One leg on either side of his. He smells of alcohol, his lips laced with the salty tang of tears.
“I forgive you.” He feathers light kisses to the skin of her shoulder as they break apart. “And I love you.” His eyes land on hers as practiced fingers find her wetness, sliding easily into her heat.
“Say you love me too.” Aegon pleads, curling his fingers against the sweet spot within her.
“I love you, Aegon.” She breathes, “I love you always.”
Part 7
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