#<-​for the blonde girl and nurse characters

[the-meme-monarch]

(comes in staggering covered in blood) hey gang

[pseudowho]

The Widow's Keeper

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Marrying again after losing your husband in Shibuya was never part of your plan. Then, Higuruma Hiromi came along.

Warnings: Character death, grief, angst, fluff

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A hysterical shriek-- a frantic cry for a man long dead-- rang through the bedroom, enveloped in the dark warmth of night, and broke down into anguished sobs. A soft shout of alarm, and hurried reassurances, sobs muffled, hands stroking, soothing, kisses on foreheads.

Hiromi held you to his chest, his pyjama top damp with your tears, his eyes gritty from sudden wakefulness. You cried away your grief, still so raw, replaying over and over in your dreams-- taunting you with 'what if's and 'if only's. Hiromi's nose nuzzled into your hair, both arms tightly holding you lest you fall apart against him, mumbling his sweet love in humid little breaths to your head.

It had been a while since you had dreamed of Nanami Kento, he pondered, rocking you gently from side-to-side. Dead and buried for almost 4 years now, Hiromi had married you and your trauma, your loss, your fallen love. He had taken you as the package you were, a complex parcel, and the mother of the second love of his life.

Little footsteps approached the door; little hands, cautious against the cool wood, pushed it open with a squeak.

"Mummy? Daddy? Is it a bad dream? You woke me up," grumbled your little girl, blonde and brown-eyed, with sharp delicate features. You sat up hurriedly, wiping your eyes and plastering on a damp smile. As you began moving to get out of bed, Hiromi laid a gentle hand on your thigh, kissing you on the temple.

"I'll take it from here," he hushed, and you sniffled, threatening tears again, "go back to sleep. I love you."

Planting a watery kiss to Hiromi's lips, you laid down in bed, burrowing your nose into his pillow, his smell, always feeling your adoration for him with the sting of guilt.

Hiromi scooted to the door, his loud shuffling footsteps pretending to be sneaky as he scooped his daughter up in his arms, nosing at her with deliberate snuffles. She giggled, batting him away, capturing his face in her little hands, slanted eyes narrow and delighted.

"Back to bed, little one. Your teddies can't sleep without you." Hiromi's playful bargaining wasn't needed, his daughter half-asleep in his arms already, while her arms wound around his neck to snuggle her head under his chin. By the time he had tucked her back into bed, she breathed soft snores, her bed still warm from the nest she had made.

Hiromi crouched by your daughter's bed, watching her, committing all of her features to memory; never this small, ever again, he thought, bittersweet as she grew, blooming. He stroked her hair, nursing the stale guilt of feeling he had stolen this life from another man, and feeling so deeply undeserving, so ashamed because of it.

While Hiromi knew his daughter-- your daughter, Kento's daughter-- more than Kento ever would, there felt to be an impenetrable wall to his love, an absence of a blood bond, stolen away from a man who did not want to leave his wife, and had not even known he was to become a father. Hiromi felt responsible, as if he had spirited you both away himself. He did not deserve to hold you through your grief; he did not deserve to be daddy.

Planting a last kiss to his daughter's forehead, a long-fingered hand stroking blond flicks out of her eyes, Hiromi tiptoed to the door. He hesitated for a moment, then tiptoed back. A brown teddy with its familiar, well-fiddled-with and far-too-large-for-teddies yellow leopard-spotted tie, belonged in his daughters' arms, and not on the floor.

Padding back to your bedroom, a thief in the night, the sheets played a gentle susurrus over your bodies as Hiromi tangled his legs through yours, lying on his back so you could tuck across his chest. You slipped a hand under his t-shirt, travelling up to his chest to stroke its patch of downy black hair. Hiromi's fingers tangled through your hair, examining the whorls of your ear, rolling your earlobe in thought.

"I'm so sorry," you hiccuped into Hiromi's chest, and you heaved with sobs when his reassurance began before you had even finished apologising, his arms tightening around you. He cupped your face in his hands, tilting it, look at me, come on darling, please, look at me.

Hiromi held your face, your cheeks squashed and blotchy with tears in his palms. He felt a trickle of disgust with himself run down his throat, as he stole his role as your hero from Kento, "None of that. You know you don't have to apologise for anything--"

"But I love him," you sobbed, voice cracking with devastated guilt, feeling like a filthy liar, a cheater, a bigamist, "I love him so much and I want him back, but I want you, Hiro, I-- I--" Hiromi nodded, still gazing into you, hooded dark eyes like little embers in the night. You felt a surge of appreciative, grateful love as he drank down your proclamations of love for another man, and wanted you anyway.

"If it were the other way round," Hiromi started, slow and deliberate, "if it were me who had died, and Kento loved you after...I would trust him completely to carry the torch for me. To give you two everything that I wouldn't be able to give."

You wept again, your face and chest aching, loss heavy in your soul. Hiromi kept you close, tethering you, repeating in a tender mantra; "You can love us both. You can love us both, because we both love you. You can love us both."

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"I...I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

Hiromi's words fell weakly, unanswered by the dead. Nanami Kento's grave was pristine under the hands of his many friends, his lover, his students, those he had saved. He was popular in death as he had been in life; not inundated with true friends, but awash with bannermen and admirers, those who aspired to be like him, and those who aspired to be liked by him. An admission of guilt writhed in Hiromi's chest, bursting out in one strained cry.

"I can't feel sad that you died," Hiromi spat, disgusted not with Kento, but with himself, "because if you hadn't died, I wouldn't have them, and I'm a real piece of shit--"

"No you're not," a friendly voice drawled to Hiromi's left. Hiromi froze, eyes wide and paralyzed, dread creeping through him that someone had heard his biggest shame--

"-- and Nanami wouldn't have thought so, either. I bet she was the last thing he thought about-- worrying about her, who would look after her. He'd be happy. For her to have a good man. Like you."

Ino Takuma leaned down beside Hiromi, speaking a brief prayer above Kento, a wrapped, spotted blunt blade harnessed onto his back. Placing some fresh flowers down, he stood up again.

Hiromi and Ino were silent together amongst the rustling willows, the smooth dappling sunlight, the whispering babble of the shallow river. Ino rocked on his heels, smiling, hands pocketed. Hiromi hung his head in shame.

"You can...you can feel both, Higuruma. Regret for him dying and leaving her, and...and loving her, I guess. You're not a bad person. I bet she beats herself up for marrying again, right?"

Hiromi swallowed, nodding quickly after a breath's pause. Images flitted across his mind-- you, resplendent in your gown. Your daughter, so solemn on her big day, scattering petals down the aisle. Your earnest kiss, your joyful dancing, your gracious speech. Your wedding night breakdown, holding you in a hot bath in innocent intimacy, folding your lingerie away in favour of a soft nightdress, nothing expected, nothing lost, in life and in death, in sickness and in health.

"You've just...you've just got to be his wingman, y'know?" Ino stated, arms crossed up behind his balaclava'd head, "You and Nanami...you're both her husband. You're both my niece's dad. So big him up a bit for us, huh?"

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"Hey, dad?"

Hiromi leaned round the fridge door, crows feet crinkling around his eyes as he popped a cube of cheese into his mouth, busted.

His daughter smirked at him, fine eyebrows raised under a smooth honey-blonde fringe. As tall as Hiromi, leggy and sarcastic, Hiromi didn't so much tell this young woman off now, as get savagely roasted by her dry wit. Hiromi took it with all of the frustrated joy of a father trying to parent a young woman with unparentably excellent traits.

"Cheese?" Hiromi offered, flicking a cube deftly at his daughter. She caught it, seamlessly, eyes narrowing at him. For all the bravado she was putting on, Hiromi knew she was putting it on. He headed over, pulling her to him with one arm, blonde head against black-grey head.

"Penny for them?"

She sighed, and began: "Did you...meet him?"

Him. Ah.

"I did not," Hiromi admitted, "but I know he was exceptional. Your mother has wonderful taste." He accepted the slap to his arm, well-deserved.

"I can never...I don't think I'll ever be as good as him." Hiromi's heart swelled and ached for his daughter; he felt an odd kinship, one of them in such a powerful shadow, one of them in such enormous shoes. Hiromi nodded, his throat thick.

"You're right," he said, his daughter's lips puckering up in grim acceptance, looking at the floor, "your dad was a hero. He protected the weak when nobody else wanted to. He took on the messy jobs with nothing more than a glass of whiskey and your mum's love behind him. He was funny, kind, patient, empathetic... he was the best of the best. The best sort of man. He's a legend even now."

"So, no, sweetheart, you're never going to be as good as him," Hiromi turned to his daughter, cupping her high-cheeked face in his hands, pressing her to look at him, "you're going to be better. You have all three of us in you, and you carry it so well."

Hiromi's daughter let out a dry sob, refusing to let tears fall. She sniffled, pulling close to Hiromi, letting herself be held. Rubbing her nose and pulling her hair behind one ear, she reached behind her onto a chair, revealing a black, rectangular handled case.

"Uncle Ino gave me something, today," she started, unclipping the case, "he said it was dad's. I thought I...I want to use it. Like he did."

Hiromi gazed fondly down at the blade of legends, white wrapping yellowed at the edges with age, but still just as deadly. He smiled, and your daughter relaxed into his wordless reassurance.

"Yes. Absolutely. It's the only...you're the only one who could do this old thing justice, now," Hiromi pressed, eager to hold Kento and his child together across the impenetrable veil of death, "but I have to warn you."

His daughter glanced to Hiromi, anxious. He took a deep breath, and continued;

"Your mother will cry when she sees this."

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A few tears slipped out while I wrote this.

[velariscalling]

Morally Grey - An Azriel Imagine

Characters: Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Cassian drags the IC to his new obsession: open mic night at Rita's, and much to his delight, Azriel has been paired up to sing with the Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol, suggestive language.

A/N: My first ever imagine is HERE!! Honestly I've been so nervous to put this out as it's all very new to me, but I really hope you guys enjoy it! I'm really looking forward to see how my writing develops as I post more, but for now, I hope you enjoy my first post! It's just a load of silly fun tbh. And finally, thank you so much to @sarawritestories for helping me out with the ending, you're the best! <3

Soundtrack: 'Morally Grey' by April Jai feat. Nation Haven

Disclaimer: GIF isn't mine - credit to whoever it belongs to.

Rita’s was bustling.

As it always was on a Friday night, really. They probably should have known better than to come on a weekend, but the welcoming vibrancy of the bar was a welcome reprieve from a long week’s work. Y/N took a deep breath as the music hit her, exhaling as she let any remaining stress seep from her body and into the night.

Before she could think too much about the busy days she’s had as of recently, a hand grabbed each of hers - one perfectly manicured, one covered in swirls of black ink - and pulled her in the direction of the bar. Mor flagged down a barman who recognised them immediately - it wasn’t a rare occurrence for the Night Court’s Inner Circle to make an appearance here.

After a moment, she handed her a shot glass filled with bright green liquid. “Bottoms up, you’re gonna need it tonight,” she grinned, already having necked her own. Feyre giggled as Y/N raised a questioning eyebrow at the blonde, throwing back her shot anyway and wincing at the tangy liquid.

“And why is that, exactly?” Y/N cocked her head at her friend, who’s brown eyes danced with excitement.

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes playfully, already flagging down the barman for yet another shot, just for herself this time. “You really think Cassian’s going to let us miss out on tonight? He’s been preparing his song with Rhys for days.”

It’s true - Cassian’s favourite night of the week was their newest tradition, open mic night at Rita’s. Four songs, four duos, randomly selected. Or so he says, anyway. He probably matched himself with Rhysand so he could convince him to sing Mysterious Girl together.

Feyre gripped Y/N’s hand from her other side, clearly trying her hardest to hold back a squeal of excitement. “How are you feeling?” She knew that there was more to that question than meets the eye. It wasn’t a secret that Cassian’s little game had paired her up with Azriel, much to his delight.

She put on her mask of indifference that she had mastered over the months of knowing the shadowsinger, refusing to give any details away of her incessant feelings for him that prodded at her constantly. “I am feeling absolutely fine, High Lady,” she smiled, eyes shining, but a scoff from her left interrupted her.

“Please,” Mor drawled, looking at her with a face that said, don’t even try. “You literally can’t fool anyone, especially not us, so drop the act.”

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t mastered her mask as well as she had initially thought, her twin’s nod of agreement cementing that conclusion. “Okay fine, but what do I have to be nervous about? You are all the ones who should be nervous when we out-sing you.” She smirked at them, but they shared a knowing look.

“There it is, changing the subject,” Feyre chuckled, nursing her drink in her hand. Y/N scowled at her, but she could never actually be mad at her. Frankly, she was more irritated by the fact that she knew her so well. “What? Y/N, this is what happens every time we bring him up.”

She opened her mouth to argue, when an arm was slung over her shoulder, and Feyre’s. “Ladies,” Rhysand’s melodic voice sounded over the music as he appeared between the sisters. He nodded at Mor with a grin, who was already on her… third, or fourth shot? Who knows. “Cass will have a temper tantrum if I don’t drag you all over to the stage right now.”

Feyre rolled her eyes with a laugh and allowed her mate to spin her into his arms, and they both made their way over to the Inner Circle’s area of the bar. Y/N’s heart warmed at the sight of them, knowing that her twin, her double in every way, had found her happiness. Mor looped her arm through hers as they walked behind them, her eyes following Y/N’s gaze. “You’ll have that soon, you know.”

Y/N looked over at her. She was so breathtaking, her brown eyes contrasting her golden hair, and her signature red dress hugging her flawless body in all the right places. Any male or female in this room would be lucky to get her, and yet, she didn’t care. Next to her, though, Y/N felt like nothing. As if Mor could sense her thoughts, she squeezed her arm affectionately. “Come on. Tonight’s the night you’re going to show that other side of you- oh don’t give me that look, I know it’s there.”

Y/N huffed, a lighthearted sound, and shook her head softly. “I wish I had your confidence,” She murmured, a dry joke.

“Babe, you’re sexy. When are you going to realise that?” The sheer certainty in Mor’s voice had Y/N raising her eyebrows at her friend, who simply nodded, as if agreeing with herself. “Channel it tonight. I’ll be watching.” She winked, and released her arm as they arrived at their own table right in front of the stage.

Rhys and Feyre had already taken their seats at the centre, High Lord and Lady looking elegant as ever. Cassian sat to Rhys’s right, his excitement akin to a golden retriever, as Amren, who was sat next to him, clearly tried her hardest not to throttle him. Next to Feyre sat Azriel, his looming shadows making the already dark bar appear pitch black in his presence. There were two empty chairs to his left, and finally Nesta sat at the end of the table, clearly trying to make the most of as much peace and quiet as she could get before the night’s shenanigans unfolded. Mor was quick to take the seat next to her, leaving Y/N between her and Azriel. He gave her a short smile as she sat down, ever the emotionless. “Are you ready?”

The low, icy voice of the shadowsinger never failed to take her by surprise. If the living embodiment of darkness could talk, it would sound like him. She looked at him, his hazel eyes glowing even in the darkness, and replied, “Are you?”

Before Azriel could respond, a flute of sparkly champagne slid from Y/N’s left into view. She turned to see Nesta, wordlessly handing her the drink, with grey-blue eyes that told her that she, too, thought she needed an extra little liquid confidence tonight. She noticed Mor biting her lip so hard she looked as though she may explode, and she rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips as she turned back to Azriel. To her surprise, it appeared as though a similar grin was tugging on those lips as well.

He merely raised his glass to hers, eyes shining with a grin that he wouldn’t let fully show on his face. She picked up her own glass and clinked it against his, matching his honey gold gaze.

Let the night begin.

It’s safe to say that the performances of the night were… well, entertaining. Cassian was a little too excited dragging Rhys up to perform their number first, giving major boyband energy up on that stage. Feyre was in fits of laughter, but Nesta looked like she wanted to claw her eyes out… but perhaps secretly enjoyed it behind that mask of disgust. Y/N’s two sisters were up next with a rendition of Love Story in which Nesta was surprisingly involved, followed by Amren and Mor’s take on Lady Marmalade, which was frankly the worst thing anyone had ever heard. If the monster lurking beneath Amren’s skin was anything like her singing voice, then Mother help us all.

It wasn’t long before her friends were cheering and whooping as Y/N stood from her seat - the final song. “Get him girl,” Mor whispered as she passed her, Azriel on her heels. She felt the shadows licking at her ankles as she ascended the steps to the stage, gripping the microphone that had been handed to her on the way.

As Azriel situated himself to her left, she stole a quick glance at him. He was looking at the floor, uncharacteristically tense under the gazes of all their friends. It was no secret that Azriel had the most beautiful voice you’d ever heard, a gift from the Cauldron itself, but it occurred to her now that maybe no one else had heard it before. Aside from her, at the couple of short practices they  had done. Even then, she didn’t think he was giving his all.

Y/N faced the front and prepared for the music to play - she was more of a seasoned performer than Azriel. She had played her fair share of gigs around Velaris, a good handful of which on this very stage. If she was showing some confidence, she hoped that it would spark some inside of him. She steeled herself, breathing in deeply as she raised the microphone to her lips, and the music began.

“He’s got gold eyes, crooked smile, knows that he drives me wild,”

She felt the heat of the spotlight on her as she let her voice ring through the bar. It was soft, to begin with, giving the song room to breathe, to build. She looked over at the man she was sharing the stage with, noticing tension already lost from his shoulders at the sound of her voice. His eyebrows were raised ever so slightly, and she knew then that he’d realised how she’d changed the lyrics to fit him, those perfect golden eyes.

“Can’t help myself, no I’m not in denial,”

The smile she sent his way was telling, it spoke a hundred words. But it wasn’t just her grin that conveyed the message she sent: you’re okay, you’re with me, move with me. There was something between them, an invisible thread connecting the two of them, body and soul and mind. Certain thoughts, certain feelings - she could feel his, and he could feel hers. A bond like this had meaning, they both knew this, but neither of them were bold enough to explore it, acknowledge it. Across that bond, she beckoned him: Azriel, you’re with me, and I’m with you… play with me.

“I know he’s no good for me,”

There was a flicker of something in the shadowsinger’s eyes, as if his mind had decided to pull him down an alternative route to the one he was prepared to go down, the one where he’d back out and run. A shadow of a smirk lingered on his lips, as his own shadows danced around him excitedly, egging him on. The weaving tendrils were clearly more than satisfied with the idea that flashed through their master’s mind, whatever images Y/N’s words had conjured up. Azriel, play with me.

“But when he gets down on his knees,”

The spark in his eyes only seemed to brighten as he brought the lyrics to life, sinking slowly down onto his knees before her. The shit-eating smirk he wore on his face in response to her evident surprise could have sent her to her own knees as she beheld him, kneeling, for her. Mother spare her. A quick glance to her right at the others confirmed that they had all had the same reaction she had, and she feared that the bar staff may have to assist in picking their jaws up from the floor. Azriel’s face was challenging, knowing, yet almost the picture of innocence as she felt his response in her mind: You told me to play with you. She sent one word back at him: Bastard.

If he was going to play dirty, so was she.

“He’s so eager to please, knows the right frequencies,”

He reached a hand out as if to touch her - where, she wasn’t sure - but she grabbed it before he could make any contact. Scars felt rough against her soft skin as she walked slowly, teasingly around him and she sang the chorus, her heeled boots tugging her posture upright so her body curved in all the right places. She caught Feyre’s eye as she circled Azriel, still knelt on the floor and looking as though he was more than content to stay there forever. Y/N’s sister looked like her eyes were about to bulge out of her head, her smile growing so big that Y/N thought it would be too big for her face. Next to her, Rhysand simply winked, an encouraging smirk boosting her confidence.

“They say he’s morally grey, what can I say? Grey’s my favourite colour,”

As she made her way back to the front of Azriel’s view, still gripping his hand as he held it upright for her to use, she slowly lowered herself down to a squat in front of him as she sang the line. From this angle, she was now much closer to his face than before, and she noticed the subtle sheen of lust glazing over his eyes. It almost made her lose balance - almost. She brought his hand gently to her lips, placing a chaste kiss onto his marred knuckles, and he took in a sharp breath. Most people flinch when they see his hands, or grimace, or turn away. Not Y/N. No, she thinks Azriel’s scars are part of his story. The backstory to a warrior, a survivor. Scars are not the memory of what happened, but a testament to who you have become.

“Morally grey, what can I say? Grey’s my favourite…”

She rose to her feet, prepared to give Azriel some space to begin his verse, remembering the nerves that clung to him barely a minute ago. As she began to turn, taking the first step away from him, something cold slithered around her ankle, and one around her waist. The shadows pulled her straight back to where she was as the music lowered, and held her in place, as if they knew that hearing his voice would send her to the floor. And Mother above, they knew her well.

“What can I say? No I don’t pray, but for your body, I’ll worship,”

She could have sworn her knees buckled, but she couldn’t tell from the shadows holding her still. Azriel’s voice was like silk, so soft and pure, yet it lit her insides on fire in a way that she’d never felt, burning her up like a beautiful, dying star. If his voice was to be the thing to send her to her death, then so be it. She would die very, very happy. He reached out once again, and this time she did not stop him as he ran his hand up her thigh all the way to her waist from his position on the floor. Even kneeling, his Illyrian frame was intimidatingly large, her body standing not too much taller than his. His eyes watched his hand intently as it traced the curve of her side, as if they didn’t have an audience, one that was most definitely gaping at Azriel’s sudden brazenness.

“Girl don’t be afraid, my love’s a grenade, just be a good girl, you can take it,”

Like an angel rising from the ashes of war, Azriel stood slowly, wings flaring as he rose to his full height. His gaze was already intense when she was the one looking down at him, but now that he was the one towering over her, the darkness in his eyes shot electricity straight through her body and into her core, her head reeling with thoughts so sinful that nothing could save her. His hand on her waist squeezed on the words good girl, and she was forced to bite her lip hard to stop herself from reacting in a way that would later be incredibly embarrassing. His eyes tracked the movement, lingering on her bottom lip as she released it from her teeth with a pop.

“Call me insane but for you, I was made, I’d burn the world down if it’d make you feel safe,”

The fire in Azriel’s eyes blazed as he took one step toward her, and another, and another, closer and closer. The upper hand that Y/N had held up until now had slipped, yielding step after step backward, her control completely faltering. She had always known that doing this with Azriel would likely create some… tension between the two of them, and he must have known, but Cauldron, this was unlike anything she had ever expected. Azriel was so close that she felt his body heat, felt her face warming, likely for everyone to see under the harsh glare of the spotlights.

“It’s you that I crave, and nothing compares to your taste,”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel like Azriel meant every single word he was singing. No, he didn’t write the lyrics himself of course, but the way his eyes burned with such feeling, and… what looked to be desperation, told her there was much more to this than meets the eye. And Gods… the way his voice cracked ever so slightly with a primal need as those final words left his mouth had her praying to whatever higher powers she could to forgive her for the damning shivers he was sending straight to the very heart of that taste he craved so badly.

As the chorus rolled around once more, their voices finally blended as one, and nothing had ever sounded so right. Azriel’s shadows danced freely around the two of them, creating a tornado of darkness, of intimacy, where they were right in the eye of the storm. The song continued, and the pull between the two of them was magnetic, almost hypnotic as they completely forgot about the audience they had; their family who were most definitely gaping like fish out of water. Y/N could feel Azriel’s warm breath on her face as he sang, his angelic voice whispering less-than-angelic promises that only she could hear in the way it trembled.

Y/N honestly didn’t think that Azriel could get any closer - what she failed to consider was that the shadowsinger was in so deep that he wasn’t planning on stopping until there was absolutely no space left between them. As the song once again softened, Azriel took his chance and leaned impossibly closer, abandoning his vocals in favour of a different use of that mouth. Y/N inhaled sharply as Azriel’s lips brushed against hers, gently, experimentally. Some instinctive part of her that knew this was right pushed her forward to press her lips a little harsher against his, earning a shiver from the shadowsinger. She heard a soft rustle coming from behind him as his wings twitched from the anticipation.

As he pulled away, Azriel heard a shaky exhale escape her lips, caused only by the feeling of him, the heat of two bodies pressed close together, the rush of meeting the lips of the person who, deep down, you know is made for you. Your partner. Your mate. That shiver he elicited from Y/N was the final straw - the last thing he needed to cement his plans for the night. His face still inches from hers, he whispered with a voice so low he wasn’t sure it had even come from him, “You’re mine tonight.”

One moment, the IC were watching dumbfounded at the scene playing out in front of them, some wondering if they really should be averting their eyes (apart from Cassian, who sat with a shit-eating grin on his face). The next moment, the stage was empty, a whisper of shadows the only thing left standing in their wake. Azriel had disappeared in a flash, winnowed to who knows where, taking Y/N with him.

“Goddamn, Az,” Rhys chuckled into his drink after a beat of shocked silence. “Nicely done.”

“No! But they didn’t even finish their song!” Cassian pouted, gesturing wildly at the empty stage as the music still played from the speakers.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s their priority right now, Cass,” Mor giggled, practically vibrating from excitement and pride, exploding with glee at what had taken place since her little pep talk earlier.

Rhys set his glass down on the table in favour of throwing an arm over the top of Feyre’s chair. “It’s about time those two did something about the obvious, right?”

As Feyre’s eyes sparkled with delight for her twin, she giggled at his words, overjoyed at the knowledge that Y/N may at last feel the happiness of having a mate. A partner for all eternity.  “Yeah… finally.”

[comfortscripts]

The Way I Love You ¬ Coriolanus Snow

Plot - All you want is one night with Corio, the real him. Pairing - Young!Coriolanus Snow x Best Friend!Female!Reader Notes/Warnings - Corio is ooc in this, but the idea is that he is slightly hinged for her and he is aware of his redflags. Possessive? Mentions of deaths. Reader is lowkey just blind to Corio's darkness. First fic back so let's see how it goes! Word Count - 1,443

9pm

“You promised!”

“And when exactly did I promise this?”

He watched as her fists clenched the corners of her skirt, breath dripping with exasperation. Calmly watching from the comfort of his leather chair, nursing a glass of amber whilst his eyes followed the milky fabric adorning his best-friend’s figure. Almost 30 minutes of her attempting to convince him to leave his opaque penthouse.

“Last year, when you were too busy on my birthday, you promised me that I could choose whatever I wanted to do for one da-” Stilling her movements, frozen as realisation washed over her. “You sneaky fucker! Not once have you forgotten a promise between us.”

Corio wanted to laugh as her face scrunched with faux anger, but all he did was cock his eyebrow as a gentle smirk settled on his lips. “Of course, I didn’t forget. However, this little song and dance has been quite amusing.”

Resting his drink to the side, he rose to full height and reached his delicate hand out towards the girl. “I will agree, purely on the premise that nothing we do could harm either of our reputations.”

A smile brighter than freshly fallen snow crept onto her face.

“You have my word.”

1am

Corio may have noticed the ache in his legs if he didn’t have such a captivating distraction hanging from his bicep. After aimlessly strolling through the Capitol, the myriad of hues illuminating their faces as they spoke of the most mundane aspects of their adult lives to giggling at memories of their youth. Having known one another since the tender age of 10, there is little left unsaid between the pair. Perhaps only one thing.

“I’ve missed you Corio”

Shifting his head to where her figure was pressed against his side, their tandem steps slowed. Only those who understood the inner works of Coriolanus Snow could see the cogs turning behind those azure eyes. Flickering across her face, attempting to decode her words.

“Don’t be silly. We see each other constantly; your office is barely 20 steps from mine.”

 The young woman bit back a sigh. In all the years she had known Snow, he excelled in many things but struggled with matters of the heart. “No, I see Coriolanus Snow constantly. Future President of Panem, prodigy Gamemaker. I can barely remember the last time I had a conversation with the real you, Corio, before tonight.”

Stilling completely, allowing her arm to slip from the loop of his. It was a rare occurrence for the young man to be devoid of words, only having ever been rendered speechless by the very same woman only a touch away. In all truthfulness, he yearned for her presence. He longed for the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with delight when indulging in dessert, her uncanny ability to understand his thoughts, and most importantly, the way she allowed him to be himself.

He missed her too.

Perhaps it was his silence, or perhaps it was the cool air that unsettled her. Bubbles of anxiety began to rise in her stomach, fearing that she had overstepped or somehow offended the blond. “I only mean that you have sides to you. Whilst I like all of them, the one I care about most is the real you. I’m sorry, but I miss my best friend.”

“I barely know the real me anymore.”

It was truth. Being betrayed by Lucy Gray, the blood on his hands, the character he has had to play since; it was exhausting. The darkness swirling inside of him corrupting his daily thoughts, paranoia and greed clouding his mind. It was all too much to expose to her.

She embodied life, a breath of fresh air in a world torn apart by capitalism and violence. Coriolanus could never understand why she cared for him, why she befriended him. But he could never jeopardise losing her. The darker side of him wishes to lock her up in the Penthouse, so her sun only shines for him. Keep away the prying eyes of men who wish to glimpse the sweetness of her smile. But alas, he cannot. An innocent fragment of his soul forbids his darkness from tainting her, even if he must create distance to do so.

“After all that has happened, the Corio you know barely exists anymore.” Those stormy eyes refusing to meet her gaze by fixating on the gleaming silver ring adoring his finger. “If only you knew, you wouldn’t look at me the same.”

The warmth of her hand sliding into his captures his focus. “If only I knew about what happened during the games? If only I knew about Lucy Gray, and those people you killed? If only I knew how dark your soul feels? I know Corio.”

Snapping to meet her gaze, he feels as if she had knocked the air out of his lungs. How could she possibly know? Why would she be standing here with him? Was she going to hold this over him? A flurry of thoughts stormed behind his eyes, as she only tightened her hold on his large hand.

“Did you really think you could lie to me? I know you better than I know myself. When you came back from District 12, I could see behind those lies you were spewing. I saw the hurt she caused, the trauma you had witnessed, and how it broke the light inside of you.”

For the second time tonight, Coriolanus was speechless. Perhaps she didn’t know whose blood coats his hands, or the exact details of what happened those years ago, but she knew enough. And she was still standing there in front of him.

“And you still care about me?”

“I will always care about you Corio.  Now come on, I want to take you somewhere!”

And with that, she pulled him further into the night.

2:45am

Neither of them had uttered a word since their conversation.

Laid side by side on the refreshing emerald blades of grass as they look towards the stars above, only their subtle breathing filling the air. Despite the silence, the interlocked fingers expressed a thousand words.

A hitched breath broke the still atmosphere of the hilltop.

“Do you love me?”

Her words stopped his heart mid-beat.

“What? Of course, I love you. You are my best friend.” His words flow smoothly, as his thoughts run erratically to concoct the perfect lie.

The grass shuffles as she turns her head to face him. “No, do you love me like I love you?”

Corio continues staring straight towards the constellations, knowing that her alluring eyes could weaken his resolve in mere seconds.

“Because the way I love you is more than someone who loves a best friend. Almost as if you are the only person who makes my heart dizzy with joy. If you don’t love me the same way, it’s okay. Just needed to finally tell you.”

The breeze acts as a ticking clock, emphasising the lack of response from the young man and amplifying the anxiety building in the woman as she faces the stars once more.

Its almost too quiet to be heard, a whisper in the wind, but she hears it clearly. “I do love you the way you love me.”

Turning in unison to face one another, his free hand reaching to caress the toasty skin of her cheek.  Gentle strokes of his chilled fingers, drawing without destination on her skin as the blond builds the courage to speak once more.

“The way I love you terrifies me. You are the only one who brings me happiness, the only one who knows my sorrows, the only one I would sacrifice for. I obsess over you. I want to hold you and protect you. I wish to possess you. All because I love you the way you love me.”

Searching his irises for any fragment of dishonesty, her smile grows as she finds none. Inching closer to the man who has held her heart for a decade, his minty breath invading her senses.

With lips mere millimetres apart, a light whisper leaves her mouth “I’ll be yours Corio, for as long as you are mine. We can possess one another.”

As if those were the only words he ever craved, he intertwined his lips with hers. Soaking in the feeling of ecstasy as his hold on her tightens. She embraced the overwhelming sensation of complete bliss, revelling in every single second as her fingers interlock with his porcelain-locks.

Her lips fit with his so perfectly, it was clear that they were made to possess each other. And now that Panem’s king had his Queen, nothing could break him.

[raisedbythetv89]

The writers I think mostly completely by accident with the assistance of James charming his way into becoming a main character created the perfect storm to ensure people who love spike would reach absolute peak levels of being completely obsessively deranged about him forever

Season 2:

He’s a punk rock villain with killer cheekbones, enchanting eyes, and an absolutely DEVILISH smile - who’s an incredibly dedicated and dangerous fighter who specifically seeks out challenging fights he’s not guaranteed to win (brave and reckless - normally traits seen in heroes) hates everyone except his mentally ill physically sick wife (the statistics of men who leave their wives when they get sick in the US is horrifying like nurses literally have to warn married women who get sick it happens so often) who he’s hopelessly devoted to and unbelievably soft with and always listens to her while also exuding a psychotic amount of sex appeal and is just F U N he loves being a vampire and he loves fighting and it makes it so much fun for the audience. While still showing how much he respects and admires his enemy for her skill, strength, resourcefulness, and intelligence - NEVER underestimating her just because she’s a tiny blonde girl - and instead of destroying the world for love he SAVES the world for love - a villain doing good to get the love of his life back who essentially dumped him for her ex????????? D E V O T E D and shockingly extremely trustworthy??? And has amazing chemistry with our heroine and is there for a pivotal moment in her life and is the only one there for her when she has no one else????? *enemies to lovers girlies ENTER THE CHAT*

Season 3:

He shows he fucking MEANS IT when he says Dru is the love of his life when he shows up in Sunnydale because he blames Angel not Buffy or Drusilla but the man actually responsible for all their problems and he is the most pathetic mess we’ve ever SEEN!!!! He’s crying and drunk all the time and he’s so sad he goes to Buffy’s mom TO TALK 💀😭 our pathetic sensitive little self admitted lover boy who KNOWS he’s love’s bitch and he won’t be pretending he’s anything otherwise who shows how clearly he sees and understands other people and the depths of his emotional intelligence so much so Buffy herself admits she can’t fool Spike she can fool her friends BUT NOT SPIKE OR HERSELF EXCUSE ME MA’AM WHAT???????

AND Spike doesn’t just uselessly MOPE forever he gets some perspective and is like I know what I’m gonna do to her back and I’m gonna go do that now! 😁👍🏻 showing he never stays down for long and is always gonna get back up to keep fighting for his love while BOTH he and Buffy still honor the truce even though he’s broken it by coming back??? While Buffy’s all “I violently dislike you” YEAH OK GIRL WHATEVER YOU SAY *enemies to lovers girlies chomping at the bit intensifies*

Season 4:

CLEARLY heartbroken about Drusilla (DEVOTED!!!) but it’s turned into anger and resentment directed at Harmony who how bizarre looks nothing like Drusilla but A LOT like Buffy…… hmmmmmmmmmmmmm HOW INTERESTING *enemies to lovers girlies are vibrating with anticipation that turns into a full blown combustion when something blue happens*

Spike doesn’t pretend to love Harmony in order to get what he wants from her (shown in direct contrast to Parker) he’s ironically very honest despite being a villain - he’s showing he’s STILL loyal to Drusilla in ONLY loving her even after she’s dumped him... again!

We see Spike treat Buffy the EXACT same way he treated Drusilla during something blue reaffirming THIS IS HOW THIS MAN LOVES WHEN HE LOVES YOU. He’s extremely affectionate, helpful, protective, caring - D E V O T E D - and is truly just the most certified lover boy we’ve ever fucking seen

Season 5:

SURPRISE HE’S SECRETLY A LOVESICK MAMA’S BOY POET AT HEART UNDERNEATH THE BAD BOY PERSONA AND A PROTECTIVE BIG BROTHER AND NOW BUFFY AND HER FAMILY’S MOST LOYAL DEFENDER AND IS WILLING TO DIE NOT JUST FOR BUFFY BUT FOR ALL THE SUMMERS WOMEN AND HE KNOWS AND SEES BUFFY SO DEEPLY AND INTIMATELY AND CAN HOLD SPACE FOR HER PAIN LIKE NO ON ELSE CAN AND SHOWS THE DEVOTION THAT ONCE BELONGED TO DRUSILLA NOW BELONGS TO BUFFY AND IT IS GOING NOWHERE EVEN WHEN SHE DIES AND WE'VE SEEN IN HIM CRY BEFORE BUT NEVER HAVE WE SEEN HIM BREAK DOWN LIKE HE DOES AT THE SIGHT OF BUFFY'S BODY!!!!!!!!!!!

*all of us screaming, crying, throwing up, climbing the walls and generally just losing our minds*

Season 6:

No soul, his love is so great for Buffy as is his loyalty and devotion to her, he now helps all of his dead love’s friends fight evil and is raising her sister and dreams of saving her every night for 148 nights 🤚🏻😭 don’t even fucking talk to me I can’t take it

Forgive the absolute 180 in tone change here:

Dick game is FIRE - his touch is the only thing that makes Buffy feel alive AND SHE WAS IN HEAVEN BRO SHE KNOWS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE IN HEAVEN AND SPIKE IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING HER GOING like damn girl yes YOU FUCK THAT HOUSE DOWN!!! Also he is now just naked 50% of the time just to drive us all even FURTHER out of our minds and somehow has just gotten even hotter as the seasons have gone on like this is what’s been hiding under the leather jacket all this time! Enjoy!

And THE MOST unintended consequence of jw’s vindictive writing:

SPITE

He clearly didn’t want us to love Spike and tried to manipulate us into hating him in such a blatant and clumsy ooc attempt all that did was weed out the weakest amongst the Spuffy/Spike fans until all that remained were us:

The most devoted and stubborn fans who REFUSED to have the thing they loved ruined or taken away from us and were smart enough to see through his bullshit manipulation attempt in the first place.

Genuinely they created the equivalent of supersoilder strength level fans with this absolutely lethal combination of events 💀

AND THEN as if all that wasn't enough he goes and gets his soul on purpose for Buffy so he can be the man she deserves and she can love him without hating herself for loving him despite the immense pain it will cause him which is the most selfless thing we have ever seen anyone do for Buffy only to be topped when he sacrifices himself to destroy the hellmouth, save the world and free her from Sunnydale!!! Plus ya know once he gets the soul even though he did it for her he never tries to use that as leverage to get anything from her like he truly expects nothing from her at all but still wants to help her and James delivers the most devastating performances we've ever fucking seen, finally tells her friends off which has needed to happen for 5 seasons, the "you're the one speech" him being a dad to all the potentials with Buffy giving us supernatural parent core who made it through their rough patch with their first kid in season 6 with Dawn and now are just the beautiful team with their found family and Buffy finally has someone who can truly carry her burdens with her and just all the tenderness and devotion they both deserve after so many years of pain and fighting. Basically giving the audience the message that even if you have a metric ton of pain and trauma there are people out there who see you and understand you and there is a chance for you to heal both together and separately to build your own version of a more normal and stable life. It's a message of such hope and I personally know several people, including myself who watched what Spike and Buffy have and it inspired us to look at the relationships we were in and realize we deserved SO MUCH MORE than what we were getting and in my case it turned out I was being emotionally abused and manipulated that entire time!! Much like Buffy was by both Riley and Angel. So it isn't an exaggeration to say Spuffy saved my life in a lot of ways both in being there for me at such a dark time and helping me draw a map of how to get out. Not to mention loving them in fandom spaces has helped me connect with so many people just like me who share very similar experiences and have helped me feel so much less alone and has helped me heal in so many ways 🖤

Spuffies get "hOw cAn yOu liKe sPiKe aFtEr wHaT hE dId" all the fucking time and truly the better question is how can you NOT like Spike???? HAVE YOU BEEN PAYING ATTENTION AT ALL??? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT GOOD RELATIONSHIPS NEED TO WORK?? BECAUSE AT THEIR CORE SPUFFY HAS THEM ALL!

It's jw writing so NOTHING will escape his toxic bullshit but Spike - because he was hated by jw for so long - so much of the time when he tried to make Spike less popular he just kept making him better and more complex and more and more targeted to the female gaze which is exactly why he snapped and made the choices he literally forced everyone else to go along with despite their protests with that scene to make it the most traumatizing scene in all of Buffy history not just for the audience but for the actors as well because yes it is incredibly horrific and upsetting to watch (which is why I skip it on rewatches) but I still am able to see if for what it is which is a narcissist lashing out at people he hates because he hasn't been able to control them and too bad for him I refuse to be manipulated by his bullshit so it failed completely and made so many of us that much more stubbornly protective of Spike and his and Buffy's relationship not just from other fans but from the creator himself 🙃🖕🏻like he basically just trauma bonded us to Spike and Buffy which has led to the creation of one of the most devoted, loyal, intelligent fanbases who is absolutely unhinged (affectionate) with their love of this character and his relationship which is why we are all still creating and writing about this character 25 year later and show absolutely zero signs of slowing down or stopping 💀

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Series:

Sunset Seeker

Yandere Jack Hanma x Fem Reader

TW: Yandere behavior, uncomfortable encounter, etc.

Kindness. Compassion. Love. Those three were foreign emotions to Jack Hanma. A difficult conundrum to the blonde warrior… especially because he finally experienced those emotions through his nurse, (your name).

She was soft and sweet. The kind of girl any guy would want to be with, maybe that was what drew Jack in… like a moth to her flame.

Jack was drawn to (your name) to an unnatural degree. He knew there was no way she’d pick him out from the two… he was too boorish. He could not compete with the luxuries Hanayama had or the warmth Katsumi could give her. He was not warm like the morning sun or relaxing like the midnight moon, no. Jack was the sunset.

A time where the day had ended and night began. A fleeting existence that few appreciated as they retired for the day or prepared to go out after dusk.

Jack ran a hand through his buzzcut and sighed. He couldn’t be distracted by these feelings, he had a goal to fulfill…

And yet Jack found himself on the doorstep of (your name)’s home. His large body looked completely out of place near the quaint home. The same way he felt whenever he was near (your name).

Jack stuck his face in his hands and sighed. What was he doing? This was all so-

Jack was surprised to see (your name) stand in front of him with her keys in her hand. Her eyebrow was quirked and her face held a perplexed expression.

“Jack? What brings you to my humble abode?” (Your name) softly asked the grumpy giant.

“…” Jack sat there for a minute before he sighed. “I just wanted to see you.”

(Your name) furrowed her brow in confusion. Jack wanted to see her? She thought he disliked her… “Did someone finally knock the last bit of sense out of you? Do you have a concussion?”

Jack shook his head and loudly sighed. Of course she wouldn’t if understand. Jack, himself, didn’t understand his desire to see her either. “No… I-I.”

Jack clenched his fists as he tried to search for the words. He was a man of very few and this was far more stressful than he had imagined it would be.

“I saw you and Katsumi.” Jack’s voice was so quiet, she almost didn’t hear him. “I’m jealous.”

Someone might as well have told (your name) that pigs could fly from the expression she had on her face. Jack was jealous… of her? Or Katsumi? Jack had a complete disinterest in women so she had a feeling he may have been gay.

“I apologize if you feel that way, but I can assure you that Katsumi is-“ (your name) gulped when a Jack stood up at his full height. His body now towered over her.

“Katsumi is weird… and so is Hanayama.” Jack gently placed his palms on her shoulders, the mass of his hands nearly swallowed her whole. “Why do you surround yourself with men who have strange intentions?”

(Your name) pursed her lip, confusion began to seep into her skin. Why would Jack be so concerned about her friend (and new boyfriend)? It’s not like he- oh my… Jack liked her? Is that why he was so unnecessarily mean?

The constant nagging, the awkward gestures, and his constant verbal attack on (your name)’s friends’ character were all because he was flirting? Holy hell, this was an entire revelation.

“Jack, I had no idea-“

“I’m not romantic. Hell, I’m not even nice.” Jack sucked in a breath. “I don’t deserve your kindness, I never did but… I enjoyed your care.”

(Your name) blinked when Jack bent down to her height, his face now a foot from hers. Even at her height now, Jack’s presence felt could swallow her whole.

“You never treated me like a monster.” Jack’s voice was barely above a whisper yet his words pierced her very soul and his eyes… his cinnamon eyes were filled with so much emotion, she could drown in them. “I don’t know how to say how I feel, but I could show you.”

And that’s when Jack leaned forward and pressed the most awkward kiss on her cheeks. His lips were slightly chapped and she could feel a bit of saliva on her skin. Jack’s entire body trembled before he began to pepper her cheeks with another. And then one more… and soon it was a barrage of kisses, each one more intense than the last.

“Hey. Hey!” (Your name) had to put her hands on Jack’s lips to stop him. “Stop that. If I wanted to be kissed by a dog, I’d go to my friend’s house-“

(Your name) squealed when Jack licked her palms. “Ew! Jack-“

“I can’t get enough of how you taste…” Jack whispered, his tongue darted out to lick his lips. “No wonder Hanayama always said you tasted sweet.”

What the hell did he mean by that?! She’s never kissed Hanayama… Hanayama a weirdo too, wasn’t he? At least Katsumi seemed normal.

“That… leave the premise immediately!” (Your name) shook her hands to try to get the feeling of his saliva off.

Jack chuckled at her reaction… this one was so much better than the others he has gotten from her. The way her nose crinkled in disgust while her cheeks were a beet red, it was exhilarating. Jack wanted to see more… but he knew he’s already pushed too far. He didn’t want to get involved with the police again.

“Alright, alright. I apologize.” Jack stuck up his arms in surrender. “But think about what I said. I’m the only one who hasn’t really hidden my intentions from you.”

Jack gave (your name) a small pat on the back before he sauntered off into the sunset. The young woman now left to her own devices…

(Your name) still couldn’t understand what he meant by what Hanayama had said about her tasting sweet. She barely talked with that man, let alone kissed him.

(Your name) shook her head and sighed before she went into her home. A giant bouquet of roses sat at the center of her table, a large card attached to them.

‘From your Midnight Man.’

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (16)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Jake Jensen

Warnings: fluff, established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, mentions of drugs/being a junkie (a side-char)

Indecent Proposal (15.2)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“We gave you the chance to handle this,” Steve angrily glares at Natasha. “For years we protected you and paid you well. All we asked for was for you to put your dog on a leash.”

“Steve, I told him to stay away from you, and the girl,” Natasha nervously rubs her tired eyes. For half of the night, she tried to convince Steve and Bucky that the nurse at your doctor’s practice has nothing to do with an investigation. “I swear, he’s out of town. Whoever that woman is, she’s not one of us.”

“Oh, we know that she’s not one of us,” Bucky huffs. “She’s a civilian he hired to spy on Y/N and us.” He grits his teeth remembering how scared you were the last time Rumlow stood in front of you. “Five hundred bucks and she was willing to tell him everything he wanted to know.”

“That’s…illegal,” Natasha shakes her head. “I told him to stay away from her, and he hires some woman to spy on your girl. Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck!” Steve growls. “She’s a junkie, Natasha!” He blonde wildly gestures with his hands. “Imagine, she had drugs with her! According to that woman, Rumlow told her to get information out of Y/N. He instructed he to use the drugs she shoots into her veins to loosen Y/N’s tongue!”

“No,” Natasha sits down to cradle her head in her hands. “How could he do this? I believed he was a good cop. You know, not someone like me who forgot about their dignity and honor a long time ago. All the things I did for money.”

“You’ve got a good life thanks to us,” Bucky huffs. “Don’t act as if we are the big bad guys in this game. Our business is not legal, but without us, chaos would consume Brooklyn, maybe even the whole of New York. We keep the normal people safe.”

“Yeah. The heroes in shiny armor and shit,” Natasha sarcastically says. “It’s just.” She sighs deeply. “If you are a dirty cop, you feel bad sometimes. Especially when you work with someone like Rumlow. And now, I find out he’s even worse than me. I’d never hurt a woman, or an unborn child to get information.”

“You know that we would never do such a thing either,” Steve snaps at Natasha. “We never asked you to hurt people, Natasha. All we asked for was to look the other way or manipulate evidence.”

“What will you do now?” She lifts her head to look at Bucky. “Am I expendable now?” Natasha quirks a brow. She made peace with the fact that she would end up dead in a dirty alley sooner than later.

“You’re not expendable, no one is,” Bucky’s features soften for a split-second. “We know that none of this is your fault, Nat. We only ask you for permission to go after Rumlow. We owe you that much.”

Steve huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He didn’t agree with Bucky but promised to let him take the lead. Natasha and his husband have a past, and he trusts Bucky’s instinct when it comes to the redhead.

“He dug his own grave, didn’t he?” She replies. “I tried to stop him from messing with you two. He didn’t listen to me, or anyone else. If he only did his job, I’d ask you to leave him alone. But Rumlow crossed one too many times to go after you.”

“Good,” Steve simply says. “We will make it look like an accident.”

She nods before looking at Bucky again. “He’s a man possessed, and I don’t know why. I tried to dig a little deeper but found nothing. Maybe you got more luck.”

“I don’t give a shit about his reasons,” Steve spats. “He tried to get close to our pregnant fiancé more than once. This time, he paid a junkie to hurt our girl to get information. This has nothing to do with an investigation.”

“I know,” she snaps back. “I just didn’t want him to end up dead. Okay! I worked with Rumlow for over five years. He trusted me with his life, and that I’ll have his back. It’s not easy for me to let him down!”

“Enough you two,” Bucky yells. “This is about Y/N and our unborn child.” He spits while talking. “This isn’t about revenge or shit. We need to protect her. Let’s find out why he’s after us in the first place.”

“Anything yet, Jensen?” Steve impatiently paces behind the tech expert's back. “We don’t have all day. I need answers.”

“We need answers,” Bucky sighs. “Jake, anything you can give us to calm my husband down?”

“Hmmm…” Jake adjusts his glasses while staring at the monitor. “Nothing on that nurse, slash, junkie. She got arrested a few times.”

“Let me guess,” Steve sneers. “Rumlow arrested her the last time.”

Jake shrugs. “Yup.”

“What about Rumlow and his past? Why is he so obsessed with us? I get that he wants to solve a famous case, but he’s chasing our girl around town.”

“There’s not much to find out about him,” Jake grumbles. “Nothing exciting.”

“No dirt?” Bucky presses on.

“No debts. No fishy transactions,” the tech expert shrugs. “He has a clean slate, guys. Whatever he’s hiding, Rumlow does it very well.”

“Jensen, dig deeper. Find something. Anything,” Steve says. “We need more information to bring him down. Because my beloved husband told our insider that we won’t kill him.”

“Yet,” Bucky corrects. “I promised to not kill him yet. If we can bring him down without killing him, fine by me. If not…he’s dog food.”

“Bucky, the voice of reason,” Steve laughs. “That’s a new one…”

“Where have you been all day?” You yawn. “I’ve missed you. It was so boring without you around. So…what did you do?”

“Nothing important,” Steve watches you press your back against Bucky’s chest. He smiles when Bucky kisses the crown of your hair. “Stevie and I had a few things to discuss with a business associate.”

“Okay,” you smile at Steve. “Now that you are here, can we have a movie night? What do you want to watch? Or do you prefer sports?”

“We can watch whatever you want, doll?” Bucky kisses your hair again. He moves his hand to your still flat belly, imagining you all swollen with their child. “Right, Steve?”

“Of course,” Steve joins you on the bed. He’s still pumped up, and angry but he’ll try to tame his anger for you and Bucky. Tonight, he’ll let Rumlow live.

Tomorrow is another day…

Part 17

Tags in reblog.

[rlqfpdl]

All I want is you

Apollo!Fem!reader x Jason Grace

Summary: You can’t help but admire Jason. Not knowing he’s doing the same.

Contains: fluff. Characters might seem a bit ooc.

A/N: I noticed the lack of Jason fics so hope you all enjoy this one. I had such fun writing it. Feedback is always welcomed and reqs are open <3

Word count: 1.1k

His skin seemed to glow perfectly, his eyes sparkled with the sun. His perfect silky blonde hair was a bit messy, like he had just woken up. Gods, it was flawless, like gold. His slightly tilted glasses made him look cuter than when he didn't have them on. If you didn't know any better, you would say you're enamored, captivated, charmed, enchan…

“Stop staring, you're drooling,” Will said, pointing towards the corner of his lip and casually continuing to eat his breakfast. You brought your finger towards your lip to confirm. How embarrassing, you thought. “I wasn't staring. I don't know what I could ever be staring at,'' you defended, avoiding Will's gaze. Suddenly, your plate was really interesting as you fiddled around with some pancakes. Smooth, gaslight your brother into thinking he's the crazy one. 

“Sure lover girl, let's pretend you weren't ogling at Mr. Sparky over there,” Will just knew how to push your buttons. Both of you being top healers meant you knew each other better than the rest of your siblings. Sadly, that also meant he knew your weaknesses all too well like a certain blonde he kept talking about.

 “He's way out of my league” you rebutted. You didn't give yourself enough credit. Most would assume you were a daughter of Aphrodite if it weren't for the distinct freckles and soft glow that every Apollo kid seems to have. 

“Yeah well, he likes you back. you guys just need to be a little less shy” he stated as if it were a fact. But it wasn't, well, at least not for you. Jason was just too handsome. Sure, the Aphrodite boys were too, and so were some of the Hermes boys, but Jason was just different in your eyes. It wasn't only about looks; it was his caring personality and how nice he could be. Not that it was a surprise, but considering he is the son of Jupiter you would have thought he would be a little more conceited. 

”You know, you keep saying that, but I don't see it. Plus I can't think of crushes right now; we have to prepare the infirmary.” both you and Will know that deep down, you wanted to believe that Jason liked you back but were always ‘too busy’ to talk about your feelings. 

Especially on capture the flag days, You weren't one to participate; fighting isn't your thing. You were half decent with a bow but just awful at playing, landing you with the amazing job of nursing everyone back to health. You would think people knew better than to slash each other to almost death, knowing that their desert privilege was on the line. But that never seemed to stop anyone from creating more work for the Apollo cabin. 

You sighed as you prepared some of the beds in the infirmary, having gauzes and ambrosia ready at your disposal. Singing softly as you worked, maybe you weren't blessed with amazing archery skills or astonishing arts abilities, but you had other skills in your favor. Like your voice and talent with the lyre. Most of the camp would agree that you were the best singer from the Apollo cabin, often leading the sing-alongs at the campfires or just singing sweet children's songs to the little ones at camp. 

Caught up in your singing and folding of sheets, you didn't hear the conch being blown or the screaming campers celebrating their victory or announcing their complaints over losing. So, to say you almost had a heart attack when you heard a soft voice call your name was truly an understatement. 

“Gods Austin you scared me,” you said, looking at your brother as he smiled softly, “Sorry you just have a patient ready for you, doc,” he said, smirking slightly as he was up to something. “I'll attend some; tell Will to take care of the rest” You turned around, not looking at your now creepily smiling brother. You started putting a little tray on one of the beds . Austin continued talking, “Oh but there is this camper who has specially requested for you,” he said as he dragged said camper towards you. “Okay well bring them up; i don't have time to attend everybody,” your voice started to faint as you looked up towards this oh so special camper that requested you. 

“I can come back at another time if you're too busy,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head with rosy cheeks, he was embarrassed. But now you sported matching red cheeks as you looked at him intensely in awe of his presence. “No, you fine Jason please sit” you gestured towards the bed. “I got nicked with a sword; it's not that bad” he explained, tilting his head, his voice was ringing in your ears like a charm.

“Can i touch your face” you mumbled as you began to study the small gash he had from afar. “Sure,” Jason stuttered a bit, his face getting a little bit redder. You softly touched his jaw, further inspecting his injury. “Well, it's not deep enough for ambrosia or nectar, but it's still kind of deep,” you stated grabbing a cotton ball with a pair of tweezers “I’m just going to clean it up and heal it ,” you said, your voice shaking a bit. Jason could only muster a hum as you placed a tiny amount of alcohol into his wound. He winced at the sting, but it didn't seem to bother him that much, especially with how gently you touched his face. 

Both of you fell into an uncomfortable silence, not knowing what to say, faces a bit too close to each other, entering in panic mode. Yet Jason built up enough courage as he whispered a faint “Your voice is so beautiful.” You couldn't help but look into his blue eyes, eternally getting lost in those precious sky-blue irises. Your faces got closer slowly, instinctively, as if it was the only way to respond. Trying to wrap your head around the boy's words truly left you speechless. But life decided to ruin this perfect moment as you heard someone speak. 

“I need some help with some Ares kids,” Will said standing there, clearly seeing he had interrupted something. “Right,” you responded brushing off nonexistent dust from your camp shirt and looking back at Jason. “Your wound should feel better now, let me know if it doesn't,” you said, all giddy at the thought of him coming back. He just nodded shyly, trying to say anything as you walked closer to Will but ultimately stayed silent. 

“Your voice is so beautiful, marry me Y/N” mocked Will as both of you walked towards the other side of the infirmary, punching his stomach, “Shut up” you whispered. Gods, Jason Grace might just be the death of you. 

[hrryshoney]

Oh god I’m greedy can we please get a 13 as well 🧡🧡🧡

i’m just fine ‘cause i know you are mine

A/N: fleshing this one out a bit, maybe just cuz the other one i was bad at writing head🤨 bit self conscious about this one but… oh well. about 4k words by the way, give or take

warnings: alcohol mentions, jealous!matty, fem!reader, use of y/n, ummmm thigh riding, fingering, dirty talk ig, wordyyy, daddy kink… used in 2 spots that’s it, semi-public? things ensue in a closet, kinda long buildup, i think that’s it!

prompt: “What exactly are we doing right now?” Character A whispers, breathing ragged against Character B’s lips, their heart beating erratically in their chest. “Fooling around,” Character B answers, squeezing their waist. “We’re fooling around, that’s all. That’s what we’ve been doing all along, right?” (The look in their eyes says otherwise, but Character A chooses to ignore that as they give in once again.)

You were sitting next to Matty on the couch at one of his friends’ parties. You weren’t going to go in the first place. But, when he begged you, you didn’t really have the heart to say no. You didn’t know the host all that well, therefore you only knew a couple people at the event. It was awkward, but you didn’t want to be one of those people. Matty looked like he was having fun, so who were you to say something?

You were picking at your nail beds when he spoke up. “Having fun there, love?” You looked over to see his eyebrows raised, a couple strands of hair fallen in-front of his eyes.

You blew a breath from your nose, “loads. Can’t you tell?” You gave an over exaggerated smile, putting your two hands under your chin. Matty chuckled, raising his cup to his lips.

“Cute. If you wanna leave, we can?” Now it was your turn to take a sip of your drink. You didn’t particularly enjoy whatever was in the cup, he had handed it to you when you both arrived. You had been nursing it the whole night.

When you lowered the cup from your mouth, you regained a neutral expression. “Don’t wanna take your fun. It’s fine, I’m a big girl.” While in reality, you felt like a toddler who needed a nap. It was only 20 past 10:00. Maybe you were a grandma. Matty pursed his lips. His leg stretched out to kick at your shoe. He gave you one last once over before rejoining his conversation. Some debate over alcohol, you weren’t really paying attention.

You grabbed your phone out of your back pocket to check the time. Or, to look like you were busy in some sense. It had only been 4 minutes since your interaction with Matty, and now you were sorta wishing you took his offer. Sliding your phone into your front pocket this time, you wiped your palms on your jeans and stood. You looked at Matty with a smile when he was pulled out of his discussion. “G’na go mingle.” You said in a singsong voice. He smiled back and nodded.

It was a short journey to the kitchen from the living room. There was only a few people. It was dimly lit and a little too stuffy. You just needed to stretch your legs. You could see two couples grouped together, a girl eating leftover pasta at the island, and a guy standing in the corner drinking a beer. You walked over to the counter and started picking at the chips that had been left out all night. You ate a handful and looked up. The guy with the beer was looking at you. You smiled. It couldn’t hurt, he was cute. Fluffy blonde hair, maybe a couple inches taller than you, light eyes, and a few visible tattoos. He was cute. Maybe he’d be alright to go home with. You hadn’t gotten laid in a bit, so why not a stranger to provide you with a one night stand?

You were broken from your haze when he smiled back and started approaching you. You shifted your eyes and pursed your lips coyly. You could do this. Talking to men was.. okay. Yeah, it was okay. It wasn’t okay when your brain decided to do the thing and compare every guy to your best friend, Matty. But that was a problem for another day.

“Hello,” Cute guy speaks in between a smile and holds his hand out. “m’ Luca.” His skin is clear up close. You held your hand out to take his and shook. His hand was soft, too. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Luca.” You smile as you shake his hand. You were already a bit tipsy, and honestly tired. The smile didn’t really meet your eyes. Especially when you would rather be touching Matty’s hand.

There you go again. You guessed you would compare every guy you meet to Matty. Considering Matty was the one you really wanted, most other people didn’t stand a chance. But, when Matty showed no reciprocation you had to make do. Although, your inebriated brain wasn’t making your thoughts about your best friend any better.

“I was kinda looking at you.. not in a weird way! But, I saw you when you came in. I thought you were cute so.. hi.” Luca ends his rambling and you give another smile. You thought it was cute even though you knew he saw you come in with Matty. You would say he was pretty presumptuous to pursue you after he watched you walk in with him, but after all his presumption would be right.

“Hi. Thank you, you’re cute too.” Your eyes dart toward the kitchen counter as to avoid awkward eye contact. “How do you know the host?” Polite small talk was the way to go. Even if you yourself didn’t know the host.

“Oh! Yeah, we went to uni together. She-“ Luca ends his story no longer before he starts it. He looks behind your head and squints his eyes. You were about to open your mouth and ask why, but then you felt it. Well, you felt him. Him, being Matty himself. His hand went to your stomach, his chest pressed to your back. He rested his chin on your shoulder. “Hey.” He breathes into your ear. You smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath. If he wasn’t acting like this, you wouldn’t think he had enough to be drunk. “Hey back.” You say, looking at him through the corner of your eyes. “Um, Luca. This is Matty. The- friend I came with. Matty, this is Luca.”

“Ah, yes. Hi, man. Nice to meet you.” Luca offers a smile and a raise of his brows. Matty stands up straight again, hand lingering on your stomach. “Likewise. Sorry, mate. Can I steal her a sec? I’m sure you understand..” His hand trails to your shoulder, then down your arm. He eventually interlaces his fingers with yours, and starts to tug you in the opposite direction before Luca can give an answer. You shoot him a sympathetic smile and scramble so your feet can keep up with Matty’s.

“Where are we going? And why did you take me away from him! You’re such a cockblock, y’know that?” You roll your eyes at his drunken antics. Now you’d have to be babysitter for him, you guessed. The last time Matty was drunk and acted like this, the night ended in kisses and some heavy petting. To be fair, you were both pretty intoxicated. The morning after neither of you had talked about it, and that cycle would generally continue when you were both drunk. There were chaste kisses on the cheek and forehead shared when you were sober, but they were in the best friend manner.

You hadn’t been paying attention until Matty dragged you down a hallway with a sharp turn. He opened a door, that you soon realized was a closet. He pulled you in behind him and slammed the door. “What the fuck, Matty.” You rolled your eyes, exasperated. He pulled a chain from above you. Then, a flickering, dull lightbulb turned on illuminating the closet. He looked directly into your eyes, licking his lips.

“So what, you were planning on fucking him?” He looks at you incredulously, eyes blown out and lips slicked with spit. “What? Yes, of course I was! Did you not hear my speech about you being a cockblock or..?” You looked at him like he was dumb, now. “How much have you had to drink, actually?”

“Not much. Almost sober. He wanted to fuck you, too. I saw it in his eyes.” He gave you another once over. His hands then fell to rest atop your shoulders. You spared a glance at them. “Okay, Matty. That’s great. But now I won’t be doing any of that because of you, so.” You thought he had to be joking about the sober thing. He was acting like this? Yeah, more like ‘almost drunk’.

“Mhm. Don’t need him anyway, s’ok.” He moves his hands down your arms now, leaving goosebumps in their wake. And then, he nestles his head into the crook of your neck. You feel his lips press a kiss to your collarbone and it makes you still.

“What are you-?”

“Sh. Just, let me.” Matty cuts you off, pressing a few more kisses up the expanse of your neck. You were trying to ask him what he meant. What ‘don’t need him anyway’ meant in Drunk Matty Language. Obviously that strategy wasn’t going to work, not when he was like this.

Your hands come to hold his wrists. “What exactly are we doing right now?” you ask between a ragged breath, his lips continuing their assault. You couldn’t do anything more than kiss right now, not in good conscience. You knew it was the alcohol muddling his brain that had made him act like this. His hands travel down your body and rest above your hips.

“Fooling around,” his fingers squeeze at the skin there. You can feel his hot breath on your neck, now. He straightens up to look you in the eye as he speaks. “We’re fooling around, that’s all. That’s what we’ve been doing all along, right?”His pupils are dilated, chest rapidly falling and rising. There was an expression on his face, one that you couldn’t put your finger on. You didn’t think it was something you’d seen before. But as his hands trail farther down your thighs, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “Every single fucking time. When we would get drunk and make out like bloody teenagers. When you would get on my lap and grind those pretty hips against me. That’s all it was, right? Just fooling around, love?”

You gasp as you feel his hands toy with the zipper on your jeans. Instead of unzipping them, his fingers linger there. He cups you over your pants. “Mhm- Matty! Please, you-“ You’re interrupted yet again when his lips lock with yours. Your hands find the nape of his neck. You grab a handful of his curly hair and tug, moaning into his mouth. He pulls away, hands traveling back to your waist. “Would get pissed just so I could fucking touch ya, it would drive me mad. When we acted like nothing happened the next day. Meant what I said, ‘m barely drunk. Had maybe 2 cups.”

Your head falls back to lean against the closet door behind you. You needed a minute to process what was happening. “You- Mhm, could’ve fooled me. With the way you’re acting, woulda thought you’re blackout.” You take a few more breaths, then picking up your head to look back at Matty. He’s been staring at you the whole time. “Drunk on you, maybe.” Is the lame reply he gives you, a shrug of his shoulders to punctuate it. Though, you don’t miss the way his lips quirk.

“Fuck off, Matty!” You giggle as he grins with you. “M’being dead serious. I- I never knew you, y’know, felt that way. Like, wanted to go further. Thought it was just a one-off thing.” You’re still looking into his eyes, but you feel a heat radiating off your body. You guessed what he said earlier meant he has feelings for you, too. Right? Why not let him know what was going on in your mind.

“Never a one-off with you, angel. Really want to go further if that’s why you’re asking me.” His voice was sincere, and his eye contact was making you melt. You were sure you visibly shuddered when he called you ‘angel’, too. As his thumbs rubbed circles into your hips, you smiled.

“Yeah, I wanna go further too. Really- um, really like you.” You giggled after you said it. You’ve been friends with Matty for God knows how long, and now you were telling him you ‘liked him’. You guessed he was thinking the same thing as he chucked along with you.

“Glad the feeling is mutual, babe.” He doesn’t give you any more time to ponder his words before he dives back in. When Matty kisses, he leaves no room for improving. His lips moving with yours as he bites down on your bottom lip. He begins to suck on it as you open up for him, but no sooner does he slide his tongue into your mouth. You moan and let him kitten lick the inside of your mouth and your tongue. He pulls away then, lips red and swollen.

His eyes go to your neck, again. He starts to leave a trail of kisses towards it. “Couldn’t fucking stand seeing you with Luca,” he says his name tauntingly, almost spiteful. He begins to suck your neck. You knew the goal was to leave a mark. You whine when he then bites down, he’ll draw blood if he keeps this up. “Knew the fucker saw us walk in together. He shoulda known you were mine. That you are mine.” Matty licks over the spot he sucked. He presses his thumb into the bruise, making you wince and mewl. “S’pretty.”

“Matty, please.” You weren’t above begging, at this point. You’d been rubbing your thighs together, trying to find some friction on the seam of your jeans. When you shift noticeably, Matty’s attention gets pulled to between your thighs. Once he realizes what your doing, he kicks your feet apart. You almost lose balance, but his hands keep you in place. He shoves a knee between your legs and pushes up into your cunt. You whimper. “Oh, fuck. Yes, Matty. Please,”

“Ya know how to use that mouth, huh? Beg so pretty, lovie.” His knees pushes further up and you bring your hand up to cover your mouth. You knew that if anyone walked by this closet, they would probably hear you moaning like a slut. That wasn’t something you wanted to deal with tonight. Although, your damage control is cut short when Matty grabs your wrist and brings it back down to your side.

“Nuh uh, wanna hear ya. Finally sober when I’m touching you, should get the pleasure of hearing you too.” You bite your lip trying to suppress the moans. Even if Matty had encouraged it, it would still be really embarrassing. You didn’t think your ego could take it. “We’re not the only ones here, Matty. Other people are… present.” You vaguely gesture to the closet door you were pressed up against. The walls were thin, you knew this. But, when you pout at him he grins even wider.

“Even more reason to be loud. ‘M a bit jealous, but I think they’d be blessed to hear your pretty sounds. Though, can’t promise I’ll be too willing to share in the future.” Matty pins your hands to either side of you as he begins to work his knee between your thighs again. You preen under his gaze, letting out a small moan every now and again. He rolls his leg up just right, pushing into your clit. You let out a loud whine as you say his name. “Ah! Matty. S’good, n-need more.” When you manage to open your eyes, you’re met with him smirking back at you.

“Yeah, good girl. Need more, huh? Want Daddy to make it better f’you?” You buck against his leg at the use of the name. He rests his mouth on the top of your forehead, and you can feel his smile against your skin. It’s a bit pathetic at this point, but your mewls and whines are constant now. “Yes! Please, please make it better for me. Please, Daddy.” You grit out the last bit through your teeth. You were kind of embarrassed that it was turning you on, but then again you felt too good be caring about it.

“Okay, baby. Calm down, I’ve got you.” Matty lowers his leg. You open your mouth to protest, but he silences you with his mouth before any words can come out. When you feel his hand finally go to the zipper on your jeans, you understand why. He unzips them and begins to pull the fabric down your legs. You shimmy in motion with him to make it easier, and when your jeans fall to the floor you step out of them. Matty takes the liberty of kicking them to the side, and you sigh in contentment.

His hand goes to cup you over your underwear. He presses his fingers into you, “Christ, so fucking wet. All for me, right? You soak through your pretty little panties for me, babe?” You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Your mouth is hung open in a silent moan, so you nod your head profusely. Matty laughs at you, and it sounds patronizing to the point where you want to cross your legs and squeeze your thighs together.

After spreading his fingers over your panties for a little while longer, he finally moves to take them off. He drags them down your legs agonizingly slow. You buck under him, but his free hand comes to hold your hip. Keeping you still.

Once they’re finally off your legs and out of the way, Matty’s hands go directly towards your clit. When you let out a strained gasp, you open your eyes to see his smile. “Feels good, right?” is what falls out of his mouth, accompanied by a smug smile. In this moment, you think he’s too cocky for his own good. That he needs to be taken down a few pegs. But as his hand speeds up, and he rubs even more tight circles on your nerves… you think he might have the credentials to back that demeanor up.

So, at this point, what’s there left to lose? Why not feed his ego even more? “S’good Matty. Really good. T-the best.” And thought he was keeping a steady rhythm before, he falters at that. Matty pinches your clit and goes to spread his fingers through your slit. You can feel how wet you are, and it makes your body hot.

“Yeah? I’m the best you’ve ever had, right sweetheart? So good for me.” He praises you, still running his fingers up and down through your wetness. His middle finger then stretches out to play with your hole, finger running around the outside of you. “F-fuck me, Matty! C-can’t, need you so bad. Please, will you?” You cried out, needing some sort of friction. Really, you wanted his fingers inside you. You thought about how good this would feel before, and now you had it. You’d be damned if you didn’t get it.

“Need me, yeah? Cute. You’re so cute.” And when he says it, you almost think he’s mocking you. And when his finger slips inside of you, you definitely know he’s mocking you. Especially when you gasp and writhe for him because this is all too much.

Matty’s pumping his middle finger into you now. When you manage to open your eyes, you can see his blown out pupils and swollen lips. Probably from biting them too much. You were trying to keep your moans at bay, but his constant rhythm was making it hard. You had always thought his hands were objectively nice to look at. Now you would know that they felt even better. Still, you weren’t satisfied. You wanted more.

“Matty, more. Please can I have- have another?” It’s a whisper between gasps and moans. You’re honestly surprised he can make out what you said. You continue to babble illegible sentences until he leans in to kiss you. When you lean into him and your breathing goes regular, Matty pulls off. “Want another finger, right? Need Daddy to stretch you out for him?” His voice is so raspy that you think this is the side of Matty you want to see all the time. That you want to hear him whispering things in your ear like this all the time.

You screw your eyes shut tight and nod your head so hard that you can already feel the beginnings of a headache. But when Matty’s fingers still all together, you’re taken out of the experience. You finally open your eyes to see Matty staring at you. When you try to buck your hips to bring his movements back, he withdraws his hand completely. “I- Why-?” You cut yourself off with a moan when Matty lightly slaps at your clit. You’re so overstimulated that it heightens the contact. “If I ask you a question I want you to answer me with your words like a big girl. Okay, babe? Can you do that for me?” Matty’s tone is condescending and it’s making your head spin.

“Mhm! Yes, yes I can.” You rush out the sentence quickly, circling your hips again. Eager to get his hand back between your thighs. Matty smiles, but you see the gleam in his eyes. Your observation is proved right by the next question he asks. “Yes, who?” When you see his grin, you have to fight back rolling your eyes. Instead, you just give him the answer you know he wants. The answer you don’t mind giving, either.

“Yes, Daddy. Please? Want another finger so bad.” Your pout punctuates your words, and it makes Matty take a deep breath. Instead of verbally answering you, he just brings his hand back to your cunt. This time, slipping his middle and ring finger inside of you. Matty’s hand is moving faster now, no more teasing in sight. He takes his thumb to come and circle at your clit, and then presses down and holds it there. This elicits a sharp whimper from you.

“Cunts so wet for me, so tight too. Can feel you clench around my fingers.” Matty keeps running his mouth, and then decides to curl his fingers inside of you. At this point, you’re spasming in front of him. You’re surprised nobody’s alerted the host of your… interesting noises coming from her coat closet. “Like that? C’mon, cum for me. Know you can, such a good girl.” And when he rolls your clit under his thumb, you’re done for.

You were gonna give Matty something, maybe a warning. But when you cum, it hits you hard. You couldn’t even make a coherent sentence. You squeeze your eyes shut to the point where you see white. Your whole body goes hot and you feel the best type of release. His fingers keep moving inside you, working you through your orgasm. You’re a little woozy coming down from it. You open your eyes to be met with a sincere smile from Matty. You give a lazy smile in return. He finally retracts his fingers from you, and brings them to his mouth to lick them. You scrunch your nose up at him playfully.

“You taste good. Gonna have to properly eat you out, soon.” You hit his chest and giggle. You were a bit dazed now, but you knew you went giddy at the talk of a ‘next time’.

“Mhm. Thank you, Matty. That was great. Not being funny when I say it’s the hardest I ever came.” Matty laughs loudly at that. A boyish grin adorning his face. You know his ego has been fed this whole evening, and it’s quite cute. You move to find your panties that have been strewn on the floor somewhere.

“Anytime, love. Gonna be a lot more of that now that your secret’s out.” He teases, pinching your hip in the process. You laugh, but it turns into a feigned gasp soon enough. “My secret? Sure, Daddy. Let’s pretend you don’t feel the same.”

Matty’s eyes go wide as he claps a hand over your mouth. His cheeks go a little pink, too. But you’d never tell him that. “Enough, minx. Get dressed and I’m driving us home.” Your eyes lower to the bulge in his pants, but he’s already two steps ahead of you. He places his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at his face. “And maybe we can take care of that when we’re home, too.”

Matty lets his hand trail down your back to rest on your waist, and pulls you in for a kiss. A kiss that you both smile into.

[candycandy00]

Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 1

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! I’m posting the first chapter just to check for interest. Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

The sky was red, and you hated it. You hated more the fact that you couldn't remember what it looked like when it was blue. The whole city looked like it was coated in blood. You saw enough blood already.

You walked along the littered, decaying streets of Gallica with a blue duffel bag on your shoulder. You kept the hood of your gray jacket pulled down over your head and your hands buried in your pockets. Standing out was never a good idea, at least not where they could see.

As you rounded a corner, you were suddenly sprayed with red liquid, and you only dared to steal a quick glance down the alley it came from. A body was tumbling to the ground, and you didn't even have time to see who it was or what sort of wound had drawn such a huge amount of blood. Your eyes had been drawn, in that brief moment, to the pair of black-clad figures standing frighteningly still beside the body. Their bi-colored eyes flicked upward, toward you, but you returned your gaze to the street in front of you and walked quickly away.

Your heart pounded and your hands trembled in your pockets until you were far enough down the street to safely assume they would not stop you. You knew what happened to those unlucky enough to somehow provoke the half-breeds, regardless of intention, so you hurried along toward the clinic without looking back once.

When you reached the small, rundown clinic, you were met at the door by a girl in a nurse's uniform who placed her hands on her hips and scowled at you. “You're late!”

You pushed by her and dropped the duffel bag from your shoulder, flopping it onto a nearby cot. You unzipped it and pulled out your own uniform. "My alarm clock didn't go off."

The other girl stood leaning in the door way as you stepped into an empty patient slot and slid the dirty curtain closed. "Terrian is gonna be pissed at you,” she said. 

You emerged from behind the curtain in a white button-up shirt that was a little too tight and a skirt that was way too short. “He'll get over it."

"Yeah, as soon as he see's you."

You laughed. "You're jealous, Anna."

"Because that perverted freak lets you get away with anything?" Anna asked. She was so petite that even the smallest, tightest uniforms Terrian had given them seemed to fit her just right.

"No, because I look better in the uniform."

Both of you laughed as you laid out your supplies on rickety metal tables, organizing them neatly into categories according to how often they were used. The alcohol, thread, and needles were first in line, followed by bandages, then ointments and creams.

The door leading to the main treatment room flung open and a man with shoulder-length, pale blonde hair tied into a short ponytail walked in. He wore wide-rimmed glasses and a lab coat covered in blood stains. He looked angry as he approached, glaring at you, but suddenly froze when he rounded the metal tables and the full length of you came into view.

He smiled brightly, wrapping you into a hug. "You wore it today!"

Anna rolled her eyes and brushed her bangs, the longest part of her auburn hair, away from her face with her hand.

You pulled free from Terrian and adjusted your ill-fitting clothes. "It's the only uniform I had clean."

"And it's my favorite," Terrian said, then glanced toward Anna. "Stingy Anna always wears pants, even though I beg her to wear the skirt with the slit up the side."

Anna gave him a dirty look and he gave her a grin in return. He looked over the supplies then held out a thick stack of papers. "Look at all this. These are all patients who left the clinic in the last month and haven't returned for their checkups. Next week I'll be making a lot of house calls."

Both you and Anna frowned. You hated it when Terrian made house calls. He was the only doctor at the clinic, and you two were the only nurses. Things were hectic enough with the three of you, but when he was gone, the clinic was thrown into absolute chaos.

"Anyway," he spoke up, "we have a lot of patients waiting already. Let's get to work!"

You and Anna had no formal training, had not even finished high school, but you had both been living on the streets three years ago when Terrian approached you about working for him. He taught you two the basics, and the rest you learned over time. In this city, injured people couldn't be picky.

Together, you and Anna wheeled your metal supply tables through the swinging doors into the main treatment area of the clinic. Cots were lined up in two rows, facing each other, for the entire length of the large room. There was only enough room for one person to walk between each cot, and all but a few were occupied. People were moaning, screaming, crying, or unconscious. Anyone not in mortal danger was sent home after being stitched or bandaged up.

Illnesses were not often treated, as serious diseases were most often fatal no matter what the doctor did, but injuries were extremely common. Blood dripped from nearly every cot in the room, and a few patients were bandaged to the point of looking like mummies. You and Anna had both learned quickly to develop strong stomachs.

The two of you were checking on a patient that had been brought in last night with a chopped off leg when Terrian came zooming past you, pushing a stretcher.

"Emergency surgery!" he called, disappearing into the room you had just changed in.

You both dropped what you were doing and ran after him, then stopped dead in your tracks as soon as you were through the doors, staring at the figure on the stretcher.

"Doctor, that's... one of them,” Anna said, her voice almost a whisper. 

The man on the stretcher wore an ornate military uniform - black pants and a long black jacket with golden buttons up the front and matching trim along the cuffs and collar. The uniform was instantly recognizable to every single person in the city, because only they wore them. His skin was ghostly white and his hair a jet-black mess scattered across his face.

Terrian was ripping that glorious black uniform from the man’s motionless body. "I know what he is, Anna, but he's still a patient. And right now, he's dying unless we can stop the bleeding."

You and Anna hesitated just inside the door, looking at each other and then back to the man. Anna shook her head. "I can't... I can't help him. Not after all they've done."

Terrian stopped and looked at her. At first, you were sure he would scold her, but he merely sighed and nodded. "I understand. Go tend to the other patients."

You watched the other girl leave, then turned to Terrian. He looked at you with a pleading expression. "He'll be dead within the hour if we don't do anything."

You took a deep breath, then rushed over to Terrian's side. He held out his hands while you poured alcohol over them, then rinsed your own. Looking down at the young man, he seemed fragile, vulnerable. Almost human. His torso was exposed, revealing a long, deep cut across his abdomen that was gushing out blood. Funny how his body was absolutely impeccable, toned to lean perfection and resembling a stone statue, but marred by that huge red gash.

The cut was so long, and the bleeding so severe, that each of you began stitching on separate ends of the wound so that you would meet in the middle to tie things off. A sloppy job, yes, but the fastest route to closing the wound. He would heal faster than normal people, would probably be fine in a matter of hours, but only if you stopped the bleeding.

Once you and the doctor were finished, you again cleaned the wound and Terrian began bandaging the patient up. "Amazing, isn't it?" he asked when he was done, "It won't even leave a scar. Not on him."

You washed your hands in the nearby sink and thought of Anna. "It's not fair."

"Of course it's not," Terrian told you, wiping the blood from his hands on a stained towel. "Nothing in this world ever is.”

You dried your hands and walked again through the swinging doors. Anna was changing the bandages on a young girl's arm, but looked up when you approached. "How could you stand it? Helping that thing?"

"I didn't enjoy it, okay? But he would've died. This is a clinic, Anna. We're supposed to help dying people."

Anna stood up and stepped away from the young girl's bedside. "Yeah, people. Not them."

"But he's half human, isn't he? Isn't that enough?"

Anna snorted. "Was that enough to stop those creatures from barging into my house and slitting my mom's throat? Was it enough to stop them from crushing my brother's head under their boots? Was it enough to stop them from... from what they did to me?!"

You went silent. You didn't know what to say. You knew the half-breeds had killed most of Anna's family, but you had yet to hear any details before now. Finally, you reached out and took the other girl's hand. "I'm sorry, Anna. I'm really sorry."

Anna pulled you into a hug. "I know. I'm sorry I jumped down your throat. I just don't want to see you be hurt by them too."

"I don't think he's in a position to hurt anyone right now," you told her after you separated. "He's not even conscious."

Anna looked toward the swinging doors. "Be careful. Even when they look harmless, they're still dangerous."

You nodded, and wheeled your cart over to the other side of the room. You stopped at the bed of an elderly man who was missing both his feet. He was sweating and breathing heavily. You took his blood pressure and wrote the results in a tablet. He looked up at you with astonishingly kind eyes.

"If the nurses look like this, I'm gonna have to get my feet cut off more often," he said with a chuckle.

You pulled back the sheet to check his bandages. "You sure are a charmer, Mr. Renaldo," you said as you began unrolling the strips of cloth.

"Don't believe a word he says!" Anna called across the room, "I told him yesterday he could hold my hand while Terrian stitched him up and he said he'd rather hold my ass!"

Rhoswen stopped cleaning the bloody stumps where feet used to be long enough to lightly slap his shoulder. "You shameless flirt!"

He laughed and looked at the man in the bed next to him, who didn't seem to be in such good spirits. "Can't blame me for trying, can you?"

The other man gave a weak smile and looked away.

"Now now, let's not disturb the other patients," you said gently.

"Everybody's so glum. That's what those damn Pagoda want," he said.

You finished his bandages and patted him on the arm. You bent down and whispered to him, "Thanks for cheering us up, Mr. Renaldo."

The next few hours went by steadily but quickly, as you made your way around the room checking on people, giving out soup, changing bandages, and occasionally holding someone's hand while Terrian performed some sort of painful procedure.

Unfortunately, pain relievers were as rare and expensive as genuine jewels were in the olden days, when the sky was still blue. The only way to put a patient to sleep was to quite literally knock them out with a blunt instrument, which was a last resort.

The clinic was dirty and crowded and in shambles. The people were desperate, demanding, and understandably irritable. But you liked being there. You liked being with Anna and even Terrian, who could at least make you smile. You liked helping people who were suffering, because you enjoyed seeing a tiny flicker of hope in their eyes.

Because you could almost grasp a little bit of hope for yourself.

The clinic was all you had after your parents died. And everyday you dreaded returning to your tiny apartment where hope drained from every inch of you like red sun fading into black night. But at least you could always come back the next day, where you could laugh with Anna and everything else would fall away into dust.

It was almost time to go home, and all the patients had been taken care of. Anna left out the front door, not wanting to walk through the back room where she would have to see the lone patient on the stretcher.

You waved to Terrian, who was making one last run around the room to check everyone over, then walked into the back room. The young man was still unconscious and the rest of his clothes had been removed, a sheet draped over his body. You crept up to the stretcher and looked down, watching him breathe. After feeling certain that he was indeed unconscious, you walked into the empty patient slot you had changed in earlier and pulled the curtain closed.

You couldn't walk home in your uniform, as it was dangerous enough for a girl to be alone on the streets in the evenings, but wearing an outfit like that was a definite no. You quickly pulled it off, then reached for your jeans. But before you could even unfold them, you heard the curtain suddenly fly open.

You whirled around in anger, certain that perverted Terrian would be standing there grinning like an idiot. But you were not met with the smiling doctor, but the cold, expressionless face of the now conscious patient. His eyes, one blue and the other lime-green, bore into you, unblinking.

He was completely naked, save for the bandage across his abdomen, and you tried your best to keep your eyes on his face.

You suddenly realized that you were only in your underwear, and backed up until you bumped into a cot, holding your jeans in front of you. The man’s eyes never left you, and your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest. You had never been face-to-face with a half-breed before, not in this close proximity.

There was a pause, where both of you stared at each other for several moments, not moving. Then, in the blink of an eye, the man lunged forward and was inches away from you. You jerked backward, inadvertently ramming yourself into the cot where the metal collided with your bare back. You dropped to your knees, wincing.

When you looked back up, the half-breed was looming over you, and suddenly reached out one hand toward you. You had seen what the hands of half-breeds could do, had treated many a patient who had somehow ran into one of them. In fact, just today you had bandaged up a woman who's left arm had been pulled right off, like the wings off a fly, by a half-breed.

You curled into a defensive ball and screamed, your horrified voice ringing out through the clinic and undoubtedly to the buildings nearby.

[the-fiction-witch]

Battle Scars

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet + Fluffy

Requested: literally, anything hurt/comfort or angst with a happy ending preferably Jack or newt but love your dnd au too Thank you love your writing ❤ Hello, could I request a Jack Dawkins x reader where maybe the reader gets in a fight or something over Jack and after he patches her up afterwards he is at first angry but after she tells him why she got into the fight he hold her close and it's fluffy and cute!

I stood, as usual, doing my work at the cat and bagpipes, men in the pub going about their business drinking, gambling, fighting and doing other such... manly things. Many of the girls I worked with were busy as they often were on Friday nights but I wasn't on that shift tonight, Instead, I was just serving and carting drinks around for My boss Rotty. I hurried about in my dress dropping things here and there as I went I noticed an empty tankard and the man to whom it belonged. 

"Another Doctor Dawkins?" I asked as I collected some from the table beside his own, 

"Uhhhhh no it's alright, Y/n." He said his face a little grim and tried as he pushed the tankard to the end of the table for me to collect it easily, I knew he wanted more but given his low pay or well lack of it he didn't exactly have a lot of cash to throw around on a Friday night, He would often come on a Friday night play some cards to get enough for a drink that he'd nurse a good while and then head home, he never saw the girls as he couldn't afford to even if I had offered him a discount more then once but he was such a gentleman and always politely declined. 

"You sure? you sure nursed it,"

"It's been a long week,"

"Aww, one more? on me." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah sure, got to keep the doctor happy," I smiled as I took the tankard to refill it for him and I gave his cheek a pinch as I left which forced him to smile, I returned the empties and paid for Jack's drink out of my my tips from the evening,

"I don't know why you bother with him, he's not got any money you don't have to be nice to him." Mags said as she leant on the bar with her fan in hand, 

"Magnolia," I glared as I loaded my tray, "Off it," I told her, as I took my tray and dropped off the drinks dropping Jack's off last, 

"Thanks y/n." He smiled,

"You're welcome Jack," I cooed patting his blonde head as I tried to continue but he took my hand tugging me gently back to him and giving my hand a soft gentle kiss, "Awww that's my tip?"

"yeah, sorry..."

"I am more than happy to take my tips as such, just from you," I winked kissing his head before I got on with my work, 

The night went off as usual dropping drinking where needed, seeing the regulars and the new guys in from a ship in port today, checking in on the card games and breaking up a few fights, I didn't mind actually I kinda prefer when I'm on this shift as you see people and have a much better evening with more going on, rather then on the other shift were you come out into the bar for five-ten minutes longer if someone wants you sat on their lap for a while the rest of the night your just laid on your back. And I just wasn't feeling it today which is fine Rotty didn't mind I think she knows I'm more a bar girl than a bed girl nowadays. I often passed Jack and gave him a smile which he often gave back, the girls didn't much bother with him as they all had a joke that Jack was 'Y/n's regular' even if we had never actually done anything it was just what they often referred to him as, none of them ever bothered because they knew he didn't have money so never much bothered to give him more then a smile unless of course he had been at the card tables winning as he often did, Then the girls would check up on him. 

I returned to the bar cleaning some tankards when Jack approached, "Here," he smiled handing over his empty tankard,

"Aww thank you, you're the only one who doesn't just leave them," I laughed taking it back, "Another?"

"No, it's okay I need to get back."

"Course, have a nice night Doctor Dawkins,"

"You too y/n" He smiled kissing my hand before he headed out and off back to the hospital, 

"he is cute," Mags smiled as she leant on the bar, 

"Maybe," I shrug, trying to hide my blush at such a thought, 

"Shame he's stoney broke."

"Mags," I warn, 

"Ohh come on you can admit it he's a little lowlife"

"Mags." I warn louder, 

"I mean everyone knows he's only a doctor because of the Navy, he's not smart enough to have gone to college like the other doctors."

"Magnolia," I warn, 

"such a tiny little thing too, I bet we took his shirt off we could play a tune on his ribs."

"Magnolia, off it," I warn,

"at least as a doctor, he's got skilled quick fingers, 'cause he ain't doing much else with anything else."

"Magnolia enough." 

"Really? Just cause you like him doesn't mean you have to lie, He's an uneducated scrawny little beggared" 

"Mags!" I yelled setting my stuff down, "Enough." 

"Fine," she smiled slowly moving away, "makes sense why he likes you so much, you're the only girl around here he can hope to afford." she smirked, "Or do you let him get off for free like his drinks?" 

Okay, that's it! "Mag's Enough! you're a fucking whore you don't have cause to call anyone a lowlife!" 

"I make more than he does!"

"Yeah lying on your back and letting men frost your stomach!" I yelled, "He saves people's lives, delivers babies, you know something actually worth doing!"

"Ohh come on you're only defending him because you like him!" she yelled back, "You ddin't have a crush on him we'd have kicked him out like we do every boy who hasn't the money to be worth anything! If you wanna go be some penniless doctor's housewife fine but don't waste a table on him that I- We could be making money on!"

"That's all you care about money!"

"Yes! So keep your poorper doctor boy in the gutter where he belongs!" 

"Ughhh!" I yelled and pulled her hair, she screamed and shoved me into the bar. 

Immediately it became an all-out fight and we weren't doing like a cute girl fight or even a cat fight this was a full-on bar brawl with chairs, tankards, punches, kicks, hair pulls, nails, slaps and at times biting, and when it was over we both needed a cart ride to the hospital for various injuries... and let's just say Rotty was not happy we were fighting, or breaking chairs, or tankards, and a window. 

I was put in a room far away from Mags and I sat on the bed trying not to whine from pain, 

"Y/n?" I heard making me look up to see Jack at the door he saw me and the state I was in for a second he looked heartbroken but then rage boiled behind his eyes, 

"Hi, Jack,"

"What the bloody hell happened!" 

"I can-"

"Who did this to you! what kind of sick twisted bastard did this to you!" He yelled,

"Jack please-"

"Who was it! I'll beat the living daylights out of them you just see if I won't" He yelled "Give me his name."

"Jack-"

"Give me his fucking name y/n!"

"Mags."

"M-Mag- Mags did this to you?" He asked softening for a moment, "Magnolia did this to you?"

"Yeah,"

"Why?"

"I uhhh... May have gotten in a fight with her."

"yeah, I could figure that out. why did she suddenly turn and fight you."

"I may have pulled her hair..."

"So you started it?"

"Yeah."

"Y/n! You can't start a fight with someone!" He scolds "Look at you! look at what's happened to you and you're lucky you got out with just this!"

"I know but-" I suddenly felt like a child being told off by their father, 

"Why on earth would you start a fight with Mags she's twice your size and you know she can kick a horse down the street, are you stupid or something why would you start anything with her let alone let it go on to a full-on fight? I can't believe you!"

"I'm sorry Jack."

He sighed putting a hand through his hair, "Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"

"Yes..."

"she could have killed you!"

"I know..."

"At least you're alright," He sighed kissing my forehead, "But I'm still mad at you,"

"I know." I giggled,

"You know what no. I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?"

"No. I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed." 

 Immediately my heart sank, god damn why does that still work on me as an adult woman, "I'm sorry..."

"I know you are," He said, "Come on let's get your battle scars looked at," he said "But I am not kissing your bruises better." he joked

"Aww, why not?" I playfully whined

"No, no I'm not doing it I'm still angry at you. that's your punishment little lady I'm not kissing them better."

"But how will they get better without kisses?"

"well should have thought about that before you started a fight." He said  slowly but surely he went over my body cleaning and wrapping my every cut, motioning every bruise, checking the extent of the damage done to me, "There, that's all of them, now look after yourself alright."

"I will I promise,"

"Good, I do not want you back in here for another fight." he warns, "Or else."

"Or else what?"

"Else your next battle is gonna be with me." He warns tapping my nose, "Okay?"

"Okay." I nodded,

"Good, what did you and Mags get into a fight over."

"I- I can't"

"Tell me." He ordered, "Now. Before I really do get mad at you again."

"...You."

he froze up looking me over before finally meeting my eyes, "Me?"

"Yeah..."

"You got into a fight with mags, over me?"

"Yeah,"

"You... you... got into a fight over me? why?"

"I can't-"

"Y/n. why did you get into a fight with her," 

"she... she said some bad things about you,"

"What did she say?"

"she called you stoney broke, called you a little lowlife, called you not smart enough to have gone to college, a tiny little thing, she said at least as a doctor, you've got skilled quick fingers, 'cause he ain't doing much else with anything else, she called you an uneducated scrawny little beggared" I explained and every word looked as if it cut him open, "She said we should keep the poorper doctor boy in the gutter, where you belong,"

"she- she said all that?"

"she did." I nodded,

"and- and you defended me?"

"Of course I did."

"You defended me! You started a fight for me! You... you got all these battle scars... for me?"

"I did."

He cracked a smile and gave my lips a soft gentle kiss before he pulled me into his chest as close as possible stroking my hair, "Thank you y/n."

"It's okay,"

"No, really, thank you. You don't know how much that means to me."

"You're welcome Jack," I smiled, "Happy to get a few battle scars for you."

"Well, not too many I hope. You didn't have to do that for me..."

"I know, but I did. You'd have done the same for me wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would, I'd get a thousand battle scars for you." he said kissing my head, "that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you." he chuckled, 

"I know," I laughed, "I accept that you're mad at me, for being stupid and starting a fight."

"No more starting fights, or getting into fights, just no more fighting in general."

"I promise." I nodded,

"Good girl." he cooed kissing my forehead,

[bohbee]

Genshin × Pregnant Reader

Part 2

Part 1

Part 3

Still GN!

Characters: Ayato, Thoma, Itto, Gorou

Warnings: Blood, Pregnancy, Screaming, Death mention, Water breaking, tears.

Notes: please read!!!

For Gorous you will be having a bit of a rough pregnancy due to his nature, not that rough it's just a warning.

With ittos you're gonna be screwed.

This is not proof read.

Masterlist

Ayato

Despite the popular belief going around time, you weren't pregnant to make an heir. Yes, it did make an heir, but that wasn't the reason the two of you decided to have a family.

You walked in the courtyard of the Kamisato Manor, the aura around you slightly irritated. However, that aura dropped once your eyes laid on the blonde male walking towards you. "Why hello Thoma." You said. He gave a cheeky smile, his green eyes sparkled as he peered at your abdomen, "I see she's growing." He handed you an envelope, your name written with your husband's beautiful handwriting. "You're really said on them being a girl, huh?" You said smiling, and your thumb opened the wax softly.

"You can touch if you'd like." You pulled out the paper that lay in the envelope, Thomas hands softly grasped your stomach, as you read the note.

'My beloved (y/n),

It would be my utmost honor to invite you to dinner, meet me on the beach at 6 pm. Wear something comfortable my love.

Your one and only, Ayato.'

You smiled softly and looked at Thoma, "You knew about this?" You said playfully causing him to look away to the side "maybe."

You wobbled out onto the sand, your bodyguards staying back once you met the petals on the beach. Ayato stood at the end of the petal filled walkway, the warm golden light of the sun shining on his body, a heavy smile on his face as his hands held your a bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Ayatooo." You mumbled and hugged him, "what's all of this?" He moved his body, showing the blanket and food that were lying on it. "A date for the love of my life."

You shook your head and sat on the blanket, groaning a little as the baby kicked you. "She's not happy about the date, it seems." He smiled softly, his slender fingers placing themselves on your abdomen. "What's with you guys and assuming it's a girl?" You smiled softly, heavily confused. "Hm? Oh... Do you think it's a boy?" He said with an amused tone. "I have not a clue!" You giggled out and grabbed some fruits.

"Well, I have a sneaking suspicion that it may be a girl, no matter the case I will love them unconditionally." He smiled with deep admiration at your abdomen. He picked up the fruit in your hand as he shook his head. "Hey!" You grumbled, however, stopped once he plopped one into your mouth.

The two of you spent the night watching the sunset, eating food, and planning for the future.

~Three months later~

You were seen yet again walking in the courtyard. This time, you asked to be left alone, letting the small breeze that hit your body distract you from your contractions. Humming slightly, you took a step only for a jolt to stab your abdomen. It wasn't painful until the contractions hit hard. Your body tumbled to the floor, your back hitting the ground as you yelled out. Thoma and the bodyguards immediately ran towards your body. Ayatos ears heard the yelp, his eyes stared wide into his sisters, and immediately slid open the door and ran towards you. Ayaka, slowly following behind, his body met yours on the ground. "Get the room ready!" He shouted and grabbed your body, his strong arms lifting you up and softly trudging to the room.

He walked into the nursery and laid you on the futon as the nurses rushed in, Ayaka and Thoma sat outside anticipation flowing through their blood.

Despite the original pain of the contractions, the birth of your child wasn't as bad as you had thought. You let out a huff at the final push, Ayato softly massaging your hand. "You did so good, my love.... you hear that? That's our baby." He said softly the cries played throughout the closed space, his lips kissing your face lovingly as the nurses cleaned your baby off. "Our family." You said, exasperated, a small smile painted your face as the nurse brought your child over. You held them tightly, and Ayatos' eyes widened with love. "I guess you were right." A breathy laugh played through your lips. "Our beautiful girl." He mumbled softly, rubbing his hand on your daughters head.

Ayato was a mature parent. He couldn't be there at all times. However, he loved his daughter more than the world. And that was well known. He would bring her to his workspace, holding her small body as his eyes laid attentively at the paperwork. You walked into his office, smiling at the sight in front of you, "Ayato." His eyes flickered towards your hands that held a paper. He softly placed your one year old down in the crib and walked over to you. "You're?" He asked softly. "You nodded. "I think this one will be a boy!" You said as you held your stomach "No definitely not, I'm thinking a girl." The two of you smiled heavily, "Whatever the case, our girl is a big sister!"

(Bonus: Three years went by. You sat on a bench in the courtyard watching your four year old chase down Thoma. Giggles could be heard throughout the manor. Ayaka laughed, watching carefully as her best friend got beat up by her niece. Your eyes fluttered to your husband, who held your two year old daughter asleep in his arms. He sat down beside you and whispered, "How are they doing?" You smiled as his free hand placed on your swollen stomach, "Both of them keep fighting.")

Gorou

His light brown ears shot up as his eyes spotted your body on one of the shells at Watatsumi Island. The breeze from the waterfall blew your hair slightly. He smiled at the sight, his beautiful spouse rubbing the baby bump as bubbles sparkled around them. However, it all quickly stopped when you groaned in pain, grabbing your stomach.

He rushed over to you, his hand grabbed yours as he sat you down on a nearby bench. His ears drooped slightly as you let out another groan, his calloused hands grabbed yours as his thumbs rubbed across your knuckles. Being pregnant with a yokai was definitely a bit difficult, your pain was more than the average pregnant person.

"What's going on dear?" He asked softly, concern lacing his voice, "it seems as if our babies don't like sea shells." You joked around, and your eyes stared into his. "Or the three of them are fighting, could be either one."

He smiled softly at your answers, "Behave you three." He said with a deep chuckle, "Let's go home." You said as you slowly stood up. You grabbed his hand as you wobbled to the door of your house that Kokomi had given you as a baby shower present.

You sat on the couch, your beautiful husband beside you. He was a busy person, but the war subsided which meant that he could spend as much time with you as he wanted. It was the main reason you got pregnant.

~two weeks later~

You started having pretty bad contractions two days ago, so a simple task would take quite a while. Right now, you were in the kitchen attempting to make food while Gorou finished setting up the babies room. You held the counter sharply, breathing through an awful contraction. Suddenly, something started trickling down your leg, 'fuck' you muttered as you started hobbling towards your husband. "H-hey" you said through your gritted teeth, his ears twitched and he looked down at your legs "My water broke." You said calmly, however your husband started to freak out.

He was going at 1,000 miles a minute. He grabbed your baby bag and ran out, almost forgetting you.

Your heavy groans could be heard throughout Watatsumi Island, everyone, and that means EVERYONE. Waited in anticipation for the kids to arrive. Gorou stood beside you, his tail tucked between his legs at the pain that 'he' caused you. Two babies had already been pushed out, and you took a heavy, deep breath, closing your eyes. "Breathe my flower, I'm here, you got this." Your husband whispered sweet nothings to you as you ripped your body in and out while pushing. Finally, the nurse pulled the baby out, causing you to let out a sigh of relief. Loud cries flew throughout the room, Gorou placed his forehead on yours as tears streamed from his eyes. "I love you so much!"

Gorou was such a sweet father, always being patient with his kids. He would tell them his stories of war with admiration. He would also tell them about how awesome you were. All of Watatsumi Island showered the babies with gifts, always celebrating the young warriors. Currently, the five of you sat on the same sea shell you stood on while pregnant with them. Your middle child sat on your lap as the oldest and youngest sat on Gorous. The loud waterfall set them to sleep, and both you and Gorou laughed.

(Bonus: Kokomi would often join your family for dinner, always creating little water fish to distract your kids. She was very close with your middle child, always shaking them softly. She was a proud aunt, whatever you needed she would give without a second of hesitation.)

Itto

Having a kid with the infamous Oni was torture. You looked like you were pregnant with four babies, but no only one overly large baby took up your belly. Itto was so happy when you told him the news. He practically told everyone he saw.

Currently, you were in Liyue, Shinobu had stated that the Healthcare is better here than in Inazuma, so Itto wasted no time to rush you to the Land of Geo.

The door to your home slammed open, and a bruised Itto was shoved through the door by the green-haired deputy leader. She huffed out as she dropped your husband on the couch. "Go ahead and take a nap. I got this, Kuki." You said she sighed and thanked you before walking upstairs to her room.

Itto grabbed your body and kissed your belly hundreds of times. "How is my son doing!" He said with a large smile, painting his face. "Your son is pissed because your partner is pissed. Why are you bruised?!" You semi yelled, the oni sweat dropped. He went to explain, but your loud groan in pain stopped his motions. He quickly got up and moved your body to where you sat, his hands hovered over you confused on what he should do.

"Itto your baby hurts." you mumbled out, a few tears leaving your eyes. His eyes saddened, his face looking like a kicked dog. "But it'll be worth it (y/n)! Just another month!" He tried to cheer you up but failed, more frustrated tears drowning your face. "Hug them dammnit!" The voice from upstairs yelled. Itto wasted no time. He sat beside you and pulled you into his grasp, telling you stories on the stuff you guys would do.

"No, we are not tossing him in confetti Itto," you giggled softly at your husband, tossing his hands up in protest. "You know it's an amazing idea, bug." You shook your head at his poor persuasion.

~one in a half months later~

"ITTTOOO" A blood curdling scream shot through the house, causing Kuki and Itto to run over, practically tripping over themselves. Itto grabbed your body and lifted you up as Kuki grabbed the bags you needed. Both of them quickly ran out of the house.

You held onto your husband's jacket in pain, low screams leaving your mouth, causing the citizen of Liyue to look at you with concern. Tears spilled from your eyes as your grip got tighter, "C'mon babe, you got this, you gotta make it. Stay awake for me." Itto said, his tone filled with fear. Finally, the three of you made it to Bubu Pharmacy, shocking the green haired doctor. "I do not have the best experience with this." He mumbled, causing your eyes to widen. He sedmed and noticed your frightened expression. "No worries, though! You're in the best hands in Liyue."

Baizhu fed you a natural pain killer. It took away some of the pain. However, it was still present. An overly anxious Itto sat outside with Qiqi as Kuki assisted the doctor. He was set on not traumatizing the child, so he asked your dear friend for assistance.

More screams played throughout the night as the overly large baby was pushed out. Finally, your screams stopped, and cries replaced them. Your vision was hazy, ringing playing in your ears. Faint voices all around. The door could be heard slam open, your burly husband rushing in.

"Qiqi, grab the baby, would you..."

"We are losing them...."

"C'mon babe! Don't leave me please.... please"

You opened your eyes slowly, the bright light of the sun shining in your eyes. You looked around, and Baizhu turned his attention to you. "Very well, are you feeling alright? I had to use quite a potent medicine on you." You nodded, slowly allowing your surroundings to settle. "Well then, I will leave you be." He grabbed his purple assistant and left the room.

You looked at the corner only to find a sleeping Shinobu holding your baby. She was the best older sister anyone could've asked for.

A loud grumble caught your attention. You turned to look beside you only to see your sleeping husband, with puffy eyes. "Itto?" You mumbled quietly, catching his attention. "(Y/N)!" He shouted quietly. You hushed him softly. "I'm here, you big baby." He hugged you tightly, kissing your forehead many times. "Don't ever do that again. You almost made the great Itto cry!" You smirked at your lying husband. "Sure, as if he didn't already...... I'm sorry, love."

Itto was a very good father. However, he was a bit irresponsible. Your son would never have a dull day. Itto would make sure of that. Itto would constantly toss your son up in the air and catch him. Loud giggles could be heard from the overly large child. Currently, you sat on a ship heading back to Inazuma to visit Gorou and Kujou. Your baby already was running around the ship, both you and your husband chasing after him with loud giggles.

(Bonus: Kuki would always steal your baby from you. She was so proud of the two of you. Constantly blubbering your sons stomach. Her eyes would always hold such love and admiration, "whos happy to see sister Kuki, you areee!!")

Thoma

"You're actually pregnant?!" Your boyfriend said with wide eyes. You looked away from his green irises and nodded softly, fearing his reaction. His heart broke a little. "My love, look at me." He whispered softly, grabbing your chin. "We got this, okay?" He said quietly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "I'll talk to Ayaka and Ayato, I'll have my schedule shortened, alright?" Tears drowned your face as you engulfed him in a tight hug, causing him to laugh a little.

A few weeks went by, and Thoma had set up a date for the two of you in Chinnju forest. The bioluminescent plants lit the area beautifully. You sat down on the bench and watched as the fireflies danced together beautifully, fully immersing you in their show. When you went to go turn towards your boyfriend he was down on one knee.

"(y/n), I know all of this is sudden and unplanned. But you are truly the love of my life, everything I could've dreamt for in a person. Finding out that you are pregnant with my child was the best news I have ever received."

His eyes started to tear up as he continued on.

"I only want this with you, will you do me the honors and marry me?"

He said. His breath stayed in his chest as he waited for your answer. You tackled him in a hug. "Of course! You don't even have to ask!"

~four months later~

Your bump was showing a little, not too much, though. The Kamisatos moved the two of you into their manor. You were hesitant at first, but they demanded, stating that you were their family.

Currently, you were dancing with Ayaka in the courtyard, soft giggles swimming through the air. Thoma walked over to the two dancing bodies and quickly swooped you off your feet, "Thoma!" You squeaked, causing a laugh to leave both your friends and now fiancés mouths. "Let's go. I have a surprise for you.

He places you back down on your feet and leads you to a room in the manor. You slid open the door only to find it decorated with beautiful designs. A crib laying in the middle of the room with little stuffed animals laying on the inside. You let out a shocked gasp as you walked even further into the room. Two chairs were in the corner, a shelf of clothes and diapers on the wall.

"Thoma," you said, exasperated. "You didn't have to do all of this." He let out a small sigh of relief. "Only the best for my baby!" He said with a large smile. You hugged him softly, your lips attacking his face. "Thank you so much!"

~nine months in~

You grasped the table softly, "mmmn," you groaned softly "Okay I gotta go to the nurse," you said, catching your Fiancés attention. "I think my water broke. He shot up from his chair and grabbed your hand softly, rushing you to the nursery.

It was painful, to say the least, but it was completely worth it. You laid on the bed, your baby on your chest, Thoma laying behind you. "We need to name them" you said causing his eyes to widen "I completely forgot."

Thoma was the sweetest father in the world, always smiling whenever he saw his cute little baby. Moving their little arms and dancing with them as he hummed a lullaby. Currently, you were walking down the aisle, your toddler tossing flowers on the floor. You smiled, looking at your soon to be husband who had tears flowing down his face.

(Bonus: Auntie Ayaka and Uncle Ayato would show up often, always showering your baby in new expensive gifts. It made you feel bad, but they always shot down your worries with a 'they're the cutest' or a 'I couldn't resist'. Ayaka would teach your kid how to dance in the courtyard, as you sat watching with your husband and Mr.Kamisato. "So when's the next baby coming around." The icy blue male joked around, causing the two of you to burn into a cherry "Only joking around you two only joking.")

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Sumeru next?

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 34 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

I'm running out of GIFs ahhhhhh!!

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut , @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls anyone else please let me know.

We sat in the bar drinking and laughing. All of the nurses were giggling and gossiping over their drinks. 

When we had arrived the rest of the nurses were already waiting for us. They had saved a cute booth in the back for us to all squish into. There were so many of us girls that we practically sat on top of each other, but no one seemed to mind.

I listened to all of their stories, hanging off every word, I missed talking to women. I forgot how much more in depth their tales were, we always got every piece of information we could about the topic, even if it didn’t have anything to do with the plot. Men only had the basics they could tell a story from start to finish, but they didn’t have the fine details. 

The bar was crowded with other army personnel and members of the public. The record playing behind the bar was hard to hear over all the noise. We all had to lean in close, raising our voices to be heard over all the commotion. 

Being a group of women, we were attracting attention. Men would come and go from the table, trying to sidle up to the girl who took their fancy, but there was never enough room for them to squeeze into the booth. So they took to pulling up chairs at the end of the table, basically trapping us in. 

Unfortunately for me our group had been the last one to arrive, so I was stuck on the outer edge of the booth. 

It was fine, I had mastered ignoring them and most of them wanted to talk to the other nurses, which I was thankful for. 

I was almost sitting on top of poor Alice, who was the youngest nurse in the group. Her sweet round face and big doe eyes took in the world with wonder. She had told me this was her first time in a bar and that she had never drunk alcohol before. I watched in amusement as she took her first sips of a wine we had ordered her. 

“Oh god!” She coughed, puckering her face with the sour drink. “It burns.”       

We all giggled, as she blushed shyly.

“To Alice’s first sip!” I cheered, raising my glass, the rest of the nurses laughed and raised their glasses as we all clinked them together.   

“How are you finding it?” I bumped her with my shoulder. 

“The drink?” She asked, making a grimacing face. I laughed loudly at her naivety. 

“No, I can tell by your face the opinion you have about the drink. I meant the pub. Are you liking it?”  

“Yes, it’s very fun!” She replied in a chipper manner. 

“A bit later we should dance.” I suggested, I watched her face light up as she nodded. 

“I love dancing!” She sighed dreamily. 

“Do you love dancing? Or dancing with someone in particular?” I questioned. 

The blonde’s face blushed a deep shade of red as she dipped her head down. 

“Could you tell?”

I laughed again. Alice was so sweet my teeth hurt. 

“Yes, your big love heart eyes gave you away.” I teased. 

“He said he would come tonight, but I haven’t seen him.” I watched her crane her neck over the crowd trying to spot him, but her lip caught between her teeth. 

“I’m sure he’ll come.” I tried to reassure her. 

I spoke to Alice most of the night, it was more difficult to speak to the rest of the girls due to the noise.  

“When did you start working?” I asked, thinking she looked so young. 

“A couple months ago, they were needing more nurses since they were so short, they said they would take anyone. So I applied.” I nodded my head listening to Alice speak. 

“You’re very brave.” I told her, as she sent me a soft grin. 

“No, you’re more brave than I. You work on the front, don’t you?” Alice asked, tilting her head. 

“I did, not anymore. But I do have to tell you the scariest thing was how bad those men smelt.” I grinned as she threw her head back in fits of laughter. 

“What’s happening?” I asked as the rest of the nurses made their way out of the booth. 

“They cleared the dance floor!” Ruth cheered. “Come on!” 

I smiled at Alice and we jumped up from our seats. We followed the rest of the group onto the floor. The men had been quick to action, swooping in and stealing all the nurses away to dance with them. 

“Care to dance.” I extended my hand to Alice, putting on a masculine voice. 

“Why of course, Sir.” She curtseyed while giggling at my silly antics. 

Alice and I danced around the room in hysterics, we ignored the odd glances sent our way from the other patrons who were watching from the outskirts of the floor. 

After a while a man tapped my shoulder and asked to cut in. I looked over to Alice as her eyes became large and blush rose to her cheeks. From the way she bit her lower lip nervously, I could tell it was the person she had spoken about earlier. 

“You be good to her.” I warned, but still handed her over to the tall man.    

I watched like a proud mother, as Alice and her guy swayed together. I enjoyed watching all of the nurses dancing with their men. Their knowledge of the different types of dances amazed me. With each new song they knew the exact dance that went with the tune. After a while of watching I made my way back to the booth, waiting for the girls to finally come back to the table.

“Hey, I know you! You’re Easy company’s medic.” I startled as the random man slumped down into the space next to me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to discreetly scoot away but he had cornered me right into the back wall. 

“I am one of them.” I said hesitantly. The man smelt of booze and slurred as he talked. Each time he spoke he lent agonisingly close, his hot breath wafting over my face.     

“You must be tired.” The drunk man sent me a greasy smile. 

“No, I have other medics who help me.” I informed the man, confused by his comment. I furrowed my brow trying to peek over his shoulder to see I could rally some assistance, or at least distraction. 

“No,” He chuckled, “from being passed around.”

I stilled, turning my head slowly to see if I heard him correctly. He looked at me smugly, my stomach twisted. 

“Excuse me?” My lip curled into a snarl, but the man was too drunk to notice.

“Won’t you let me have a turn?” He smiled at me, his hands wandered down the inside of my thighs. I gripped his wrists, trying to keep him from exploring any further.   

“Fuck off!” I snapped, trying my best to escape the corner he had me tucked into. His back was facing toward the crowd, his whole body was covering mine. I’m sure I couldn’t even be seen from the position we were in. 

“Aw, that's no way for a lady to talk. Come on, everyone else has had a ride.” The man licked his lips, I almost gagged. It was a split second decision, my head clouded by the wines I had drunk, I raised my hand. I knew it was a bad idea but my hand was already wound up behind my head. 

I slapped him across his face, sending him cowering back. 

“I said, fuck off!” I asserted, but my tone didn’t match my actions. My voice shook slightly as I came to terms with what I had done.

He looked at me in disbelief, clutching the cheek I just struck. My handprint left a red welt on his face. 

I knew from the rage that spread across his features, I had fucked up. 

I tried to scramble out the other side of the booth, but the only way to move was to scoot around the bend and then down the length of the rest of the bench. 

Not even two scoots along, he had caught up to me. His arms longer than mine reached my limbs and dragged me back. 

Pinning me to the back corner by my throat, the drunk man loomed over me. His nostrils flared as he glared down at me in disgust. 

“You motherfucker.” He growled lowly in my face. 

“No, but I did fuck your Dad.” I said mockingly. My drunk mind was taking more control than the sober me, who was in the back of my head yelling at me to scream for help. 

The man guffawed in shock. He reeled his arm back ready to strike, just as he was about to swing his wrist was captured by a hand. 

In a split second the man was gone. He was right in front of me, huffing down into my face, then in a blink of an eye he was being dragged out of the booth. 

I sat for a moment in shock, not quite believing my eyes. I darted out of the booth, following behind the man who had my assailant by the scruff of the neck. 

No one stood in the way of the pair as the soldier hauled the man through the crowd. 

“Hey!” I called out after them, as I pushed my way through the onlookers. 

I followed them outside, watching as the soldier threw the man onto the ground. The drunk rolled in the gravel before getting to his feet. Raising his fist in front of his face readying himself for a fight. 

As I looked around I saw that a group had formed around the pair, my brows furrowed as I clocked familiar faces. Bull, Babe, George, it was all Easy men. 

“What the-” I muttered under my breath before my attention was caught again. 

The drunk man lunged forward sloppily, his fist swinging out wildly trying to hit his opponent. The man dodged his attack ducking to the side and moving past the man as he ran forwards. 

He now stood facing me. 

“Donald what the fuck!” I yelled in disbelief. I had no idea how I hadn’t noticed it was him this whole time. 

Don looked over to me as I glared at him. The drunk man darted forward again, but Don wasn’t paying attention, he was too busy looking back at me. 

I watched in horror as the man’s fist collided with Malarley’s face. He stumbled back clutching his cheek, before shaking his head and raising his own fists.  

“No!” I marched forward getting ready to intervene in this stupid fight, but hands caught around my waist holding me back. 

“Let go!” I struggled against the strong arms but their grip held firm. 

“Just let him get in a good few hits, and then I’ll let you go.” Lieb whispered in my ear. 

“No, I don’t need him to fight my battles for me. I was dealing with the situation.” I raised my voice loud so Don could hear me. 

“Right like you were handling it! You were seconds from being hit in the face.” Don chimed in from across the gravel.

“Why do you even care?! You wanted space, remember?” I didn’t care who was listening. I was so angry all I could focus on was Malarkey. 

“We can talk about that later.” Don said while dodging another attack from the man. His fist snapped out from his side, audibly crunching into the man’s nose.  

The drunk man hollered in pain, collapsing into a heap on the floor. Bright red blood poured from his nose as he clutched it screaming out in agony. It was definitely broken. 

Finally Lieb let me go. I stormed out of his arm right towards Don. 

“What is wrong with you?” I shoved his chest, but he didn’t budge as he stared down at me. 

I bent down to the man who was cradling his injured face covered in his own blood. 

“Here let me help.” I offered my assistance. I reached out to move his hands away from his nose so I could see it better. 

“Why are you helping him?” Don scoffed trying to pull me to my feet. 

He was right, I have no idea why I was trying to help this man when not even five minutes ago he was groping my thighs and asking for a turn.

The drunk fended me off, “Like I want your help, you got me into this.” He growled at me as he got to his feet and trudged off. 

I was about to raise my head and have another go at Don, but before I could say anything I was tugged away and steered back into the bar and towards the dance floor. 

George twirled me round, placing his hand in mine and the other on my waist. 

“Wooh, look at you. Even when you’re about to get beaten up, you still look good.” I stared at him in shock for a second before I laughed. 

“What on earth are you doing?” I was baffled by the man as he grinned at me. 

“Come on doll, let me give you a spin.” He twirled me again, disorientating me on purpose to distract me. 

“I don’t know how to dance George!” I protested, trying to leave his arms.

“Oh, of course you do. Don’t lie to me! I literally saw you dance back in Hagenau.”  

“Well I don’t know how to do this dance.” I gestured towards all of the couples who were doing the most elaborate dances with ease. 

A Frank Sinatra song started playing over the record. George took me under my arm resting his hand on my back and holding our other hands together. 

“What dance are we gonna do?” I asked nervously. 

“The foxtrot.” George grinned at me, I gave him a scared look, but he just chuckled at me. 

George patiently taught me the steps. After stepping on his toes multiple times, I finally got the dance. 

We glided around the floor, looking like the other couples I was in awe of moments ago. I was able to actually look at George as we danced, not having to look at my feet anymore or think too hard about what they were doing.

“What’s up with you and Don?” He asked tentatively. 

I sighed, shaking my head. “I don’t know, we had a fight, he said he wanted space and I guess I just spiralled from there.”

“Yeah, I brought you in for a dance cause it looked like you were about to bite each other’s heads off.” George laughed. 

“Thank you, I needed the distraction. Also why are you all here anyway?” They hadn’t said anything about coming out tonight. 

“We might have told Don how beautiful you looked and that if he didn’t come out here after you, you’d probably be swept off your feet by another man.” George replied quickly. 

“Well you were right, someone did sweep me off my feet!” 

“Who?!” George asked, looking around frantically. 

“You, stupid.” I laughed, he sighed in relief, finally getting the joke and chuckling. 

George dipped me down dramatically before bringing me up again. I giggled as he spun me round then pulled me back to him catching me before I smashed into his chest.  

The songs slowed, as the couples around us swayed gently to the music. We stood still, stepping from one foot to the other swaying to the beat. A hand tapped on George’s shoulder as we whispered to each other. We looked over to find Malarkey smiling at us. 

“Mind if I steal her away Luz?” Malarkey asked.

---------------------------------------

Chapter 35

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as gore, blood, violence, mentions of bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a simple life with a simple job; find fresh meat. (Part of the Illuminate AU)

Characters: Steve Kemp

Note: Writing Steve was fun in this one and I like the reader. Hope you enjoy it just as much.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The only bar in the small town is predictably busy that Friday night. The furor of the crowd tamps out the music and the warmth of bodies swathes around the tables. You sit in your usual spot. You don’t often get out during the day, maybe once a week, but you’re there almost nightly.

Watching.

You’ve always been good at blending into the wall. In your solitary corner, you’re close to invisible. It’s astounding how easy it was to fade out of this place. To evade the whispers in the grocery store aisle or the gossip of scandalised old women on the pew. You used to think your unremarkability was a curse, until you made it your talent.

Funny to think you know them all. That you have a name to every face. That your ears prick at the echoes of secrets all around, of the underhanded comments, and the jealous rumours. It makes it all the more easier. You know how to use them all. You’ve made a weapon of what was once your bane.

You sip from your glass of ginger ale and whiskey. You nurse the single drink throughout the night. The moon is waxing but not yet full. You still have time. 

You twirl the straw with your fingers and watch the table of men hollering in their jerseys. It’s amusing to see how serious they take their games. And there’s the next table, two older couples straining to hear past the jeers of their neighbours. You drag a finger through the condensation as you suspect a confrontation to boil over.

You sit back as you sense the approach of shadows, bodies weaving free of the web of bodies. You look up at the two women, one with spiraling locks of bleach blonde and the other with an ombre of browns down her strands. Your chest plucks in recognition. There are not just names to the faces, there is that twinge deep in your chest.

The blonde bumps her hip into your table, an obvious ploy. She looks over her shoulder and gives a dripping smile as she touches her cheek. Her green eyes meet yours, beautiful despite the lack of thought behind them.

“Oh, sorry, hun,” she squeals, “it’s so crowded in here. We can’t find a table,” she gives that pretty smile, the one that gets her a free coffee from the same man who expects a healthy tip from you, the one that contrasts the venom of her soul, “you waiting for friends?”

She eyes the empty seats around your table. You shrug and sit back, shaking your head. You measure your expression and keep your gaze dull.

“No, you’re free to sit if you don’t mind me,” you call above the crowd.

You don’t expect her to accept the offer, but you didn’t expect the run-in at all. You feel slightly unprepared for it. The woman sitting alone with her whiskey is not the same girl who used to cower at the sight of bleach blond hair.

“Thanks, sweetie,” she proclaims victoriously and tugs on her friend's arm; you know her too. “Here.”

The woman with the layers of caramel and coffee streaked into her hair turns and gives a similarly fawning smile. That instinctual pandering which overrides most constraints of society. That privilege that only lasts so long and leaves the vessel empty and bitter. A shallow bowl can’t sate the hungry forever.

“I’m Lexi,” the bleach blonde introduces herself as she drops onto the wooden seat. You raise your eyebrows, repressing your disappointment. She really doesn’t remember you. Usually, that wouldn’t be so bad, but how could she forget? “This is Carmen.”

You offer your name in return, thinking that might spark her memories. She doesn’t flinch. Nope, those sleepless nights were not the same for her. You were just the troll under the bridge in her high school fairy tale.

“Don’t know how we ended up here,” Carmen rolls her eyes.

“Fucking Mandy and that idiot she calls a boyfriend. Tonight was supposed to be lit,” Lexi whines.

You’re amused. A whole decade and so little change. Like the rest of the town, it all just stays the same.

“Oh, sorry, hun,” Lexi turns her jade eyes on you, the speckle of amber in them cruelly beautiful, “we don’t mean to just ignore you. We had a party but the host locked us out in the cold. This town is so boring, isn’t it?”

You nod placidly, agreeing without a word. You watch her, waiting for anything, for just a sliver of remorse. She’s too much of a coward to admit it if she does remember, but you want to see it. You want to see the epiphany in those vapid eyes.

“Are you new?” Carmen asks, “I don’t recognize you.”

You shake your head, “I work nights. Don’t get out in the day.”

“Ah,” Carmen nods, “makes sense. Honestly, we need new friends,” she points between her and Lexi, “what are you drinking?”

“Whiskey,” you answer.

“Oh, whiskey knocks me on my ass,” Lexi whines.

“Pfft, you mean it has you knocking others on their asses,” Carmen rolls her eyes, “she’s an angry drunk.”

“Hey,” Lexi elbows her companion, “shut up. At least it doesn’t have me doing splits on the nearest guy–”

Carmen laughs, unbothered by the accusation, “look at us. You must think we’re crazy.”

You tilt your head, “not really.”’

Carmen seems deflated by your non-reaction. The two of them preen with the same expectation. That they will be praised and admired, as if they are worthy of your attention.

“I like her,” Lexi slides her manicured finger along the brim of her glass, “she’s so quiet.”

You look at her half-finished cocktail, then Carmen’s. Your eyes flick back up to their faces. It can’t be their first drink of the night. One more might be enough.

“Let me get the next round,” you offer.

“Oh, and she’s nice,” Lexi squeals. “Hon, you don’t have to–”

“No problem, I know the bartender,” you stand, “what did you want?”

You wait for their orders then duck through the crowd. You smirk as you approach the bar and join the crush of people around it. You found the one and with a few nights to spare.

🌔

Two drinks. Barely worth money but you see little value in that. The girls walk on either side of you, stumbling down the pavement as their vodka-laced breath fogs in front of them. They aren’t dressed for the weather, their short skirts expose them to the nip of the creeping winter. Stupid girls.

You get to the bridge as Carmen sways and stops to lean against the edge of the rail. She grips her hip and bends at the waist slightly, spitting onto the pavement. She burps and pushes her chin up to the glare of silver moonlight.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna hurl,” she gurgles.

“God, Carm, you’re such a loser,” Lexi babbles as her heels clack dangerously under her and she hugs herself with a shiver, “it’s not even one o’clock.”

“Whatever,” Carmen holds her stomach, “I didn’t have dinner.”

“Or lunch, you fucking toothpick,” Lexi shoots back.

“Fuck off!” Carmen stands and stumbles, “you’re always such a fucking bitch.”

You stand back, forgotten in the background of their argument. You want to laugh. So simple that they turn to animals over the smallest things.

“Why don’t you go fucking home then? I don’t want you pissing on my couch again,” Lexi snaps.

“Wha– I told you, that was Gemma.”

“Bull fucking shit,” Lexi shoves the other girl, “you owe me a new fucking couch.”

“Don’t touch me,” Carmen pushes her bag, “go fuck yourself.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Lexi pouts.

“Whatever,” Carmen spins, nearly dropping her purse as she swings her arms out to catch her balance, “have a good fucking night, you whore.”

Lexi cackles as she watches the other girl’s shadow disappear down the street with treacherous steps, heels catching in each crack, as she mutters to herself. You look at the blonde, she’s not even worried about her so-called friend. No, she’s not even clever enough to worry about herself. She’s perfect, just not in the way she thinks.

“Hey,” you say softly. Her eyes round and she bats her fake lashes at you. She’s surprised by your lingering presence but giggles away the reminder, “I know a place.”

“A place?”

“Friday night, there’s a crew down at the industrial park… I really shouldn’t tell you,” you look at your boots, the scuff on the toes, the shorter lace on the left side. “It’s not too late.”

“Oh? A party?” She asks devilishly.

You give her a look and drag your eyes away, “if I take you, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Oh my god, I knew there was something about you,” she claps her hands, “totally down. My lips are sealed.”

“I mean it,” you warn her, “not even Carmen can know.”

“Fuck that bitch,” she scoffs and grabs your hand, “show me the way, hon.”

🌔

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Lexi asks as she clings to your arm. You have to keep yourself from elbowing her away. Not that much further.

Your footsteps echo across the empty lot, the shadows of the boxy industrial buildings rising to the east and the west. Most of them are abandoned, as lifeless as the rest of this decrepit town. You lead her on, set on the dingy steel doors of the one that used to be the meat processing plant.

It’s dark but for the scant sliver of light leaking through into the night. You shrug away from Lexi as she releases a brrrr through her chattering teeth. You approach the large door and grab the metal crank handle, wrenching it back and rolling it loudly in the quiet din of late autumn.

She steps forward hesitantly. You sense her look back and you turn, knowing she’s come too far to leave now. She rubs her arms as she follows you, poking her head forward as she peaks into the dim space.

There’s a single light shining, a bulb beneath a tin shade hung from a chain. It lends a sinister tint to the pieces of mismatched furniture.

You stand by the door, your elbow against it. She looks confused and disappointed. It must’ve been the same expression you wore that made her guffaw so loudly at your expense all those years ago.

“I thought you said…”

“Yeah, looks like they wrapped up early,” you sigh, “sorry, I can see if anyone’s still around…” you watch her hover at the threshold, “might as well come in. You’re freezing cold.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she breathes as touches her raw cheek, “you’re right.”

The frigid air is starting to sober her up. That’s no good. She enters and you slide the door on the tracks, twisting the lever until it catches. Her heels click over the concrete floor to the edge of the thin carpet.

“There’s some drinks around,” you offer, “sit.”

“Um, maybe I should call the taxi,” she says nervously.

“Why? More for us,” you go to the mini fridge in the corner. The bottles inside clink as you pull open the door, “vodka… oh, you like grape soda? Maybe cream soda?”

“Er,” you hear her sit heavily on the cushion, “sure…” she chatters again, “It is fucking cold.”

You fill a glass with pink soda and vodka. A double but you doubt she’ll taste it through the sugar. You bring it around the couch and place it on the round table by the armrest. You rub your hands together and blow into them.

“I’ll get the heater going,” you say.

You go to the metal radiator near the wall and turn the dial. You hover your hand over it, pretending to gauge the heat as you consider your next steps. You almost want to draw it out and enjoy it but you can’t risk that. No, you have to stick to the plan.

You do wonder what happened to everyone else. Usually there’s at least one straggler. You were counting on the distraction. Oh well.

“I’m just going to get a drink for myself,” you near her again and pull down the fleece blanket from the back of the couch, “here.”

She accepts it gratefully, pulling it around her shoulders before reaching for her drink. You go back to the fridge and open the door. You flip open the small compartment on the door and quickly pluck out a vial.

“What do you do for work?” You ask as you open a drawer in the wooden cabinet against the wall.

“Boring shit,” she nearly chokes on her vodka, “reception at the massage therapist downtown? You know, the only one…” she never had any issue talking about herself, “I make some money on the side doing OF.”

“OF?” You repeat as you pull the plunger of the syringe, “what’s that?”

“You serious?” She slurps between words as you face her, “Only Fans.”

“Oh, of course,” you keep your soles light and flat, trying not to let her hear, “makes sense.”

“Men are stupid. You don’t even have to show ass,” she laughs and takes another gulp. 

She drinks down the vodka soda, leaning her head back as you come up right behind her. Her eyes are closed as she tilts her chin up. You easily slip your hand around to jab the syringe into her throat.

Her eyes pop open and she releases the glass. You retract your hand as she coughs and claps her palm to her neck. She sputters and chokes, spitting out a mouthful onto the blanket as she slides forward on the couch.

“What the fuck was that?” She snarls, “you fucking freak!”

“It’s what you deserve,” you toss the syringe and hear it shatter, “you bitch.”

She slumps over and falls onto the floor. She struggles to stay on her hands and knees as she shakes her head, trying to free herself of the rising haze. It’s your turn to laugh as she slaps her hands on the floor desperately.

“Why…” she gurgles.

“I remember,” you declare as you stride to the front of the couch, “I fucking remember.”

You kick her ass and send her face first to the floor. She collapses into a heap, her body going limp. You stare down at her and take a deep breath. Time to clean up this mess.

🌔

You dream of the night before. The long walk to the warehouse, the echoing steps of your guest beside yours, the road winding ahead of you as if it is endless. The building remains distant and unreachable, seeming further the closer you get.

You wake with a start, the digital numbers on the clock glaring back at you. You roll onto your back and rub your crusty eyes. Laying there in the dark, the window bellowing against the thin walls, you wonder if it was real. Not the nightmare, but what came before. It’s like a dream come true.

You hit the button on the alarm clock to disable your alarm. You sit up and push yourself to the edge of the bed. You go through your morning routine; shit, show, primp, dress. Basic. No make-up, no scents, but you're clean and presentable. Insignificant and forgettable.

You pull on your denim jacket and the fingerless gloves you wear even when inside. The place is eternally cold and you don’t have the hide meant for it. Your fingers wander to the silver crescent hanging around your neck, a protectant.

You go out into the hall, quietly shutting your door behind you. You descend the metal stairs, one at a time, the curved structure wobbling slightly.

You see Lexi first. Her blonde hair is tangled and hangs around her drooping head. She’s still out. They usually wake up by now… if they’re alive. You hear the click of the kettle and your attention is drawn to the other figure in the room.

Steve’s dark blue shirt strains across his shoulders as he lifts the stainless steel kettle and pours steaming water into a burgundy mug. You near without a word, not voicing your surprise to see him awake before you. Instead, you pull down a cup of your own from the shelves and fumble through the basket of packets, taking a French Vanilla for yourself and dumping the instant grounds into the porcelain.

“If I couldn’t hear her heartbeat, I’d think she was dead already,” he comments as he stirs with a spoon. “You know I don’t like old meat.”

You roll your eyes and he hands you the spoon to mix your own. You blend until there’s a froth over the mixture. Not milk, you like the bitterness. He turns to lean on the cabinet and considers the blond tied to the steel chair.

“I may have gotten a bit… heavy handed,” you shrug as you blow steam away from your cup, “how did you know it wasn’t my heartbeat?”

“I know yours,” he says coolly, “it skips.”

You don’t comment on his last remark. Instead, you test the temperature of the coffee, the flavour awakening your heavy mind. You stare at Lexi as she hangs forward, arms bound behind the chair. You grin as you swallow your mouthful.

“You’re in a good mood,” he says.

“Not really,” you rebuff, “where are the others?”

He scoffs and crosses one foot in front of the other, “as if I know what those assholes get up to. You know how they are.”

“I haven’t seen Kraven since the last moon.”

“Thank god,” Steve chuckles, “you gotta admit, he’s the worst of us.”

You don’t know about that. Again, you know silence is valuable. Your thoughts, more so. Besides, they don’t keep you around for your opinions. It’s a skill to be okay going unheard.

“Adam… he’s being… Adam. The others, like I said, who knows.”

You nod and take another swig of coffee. Steve stands straight and paces around the room. There is not a sickle goosebump on his skin, he doesn’t shiver, even in only the button-up and his dark slacks. Your jaw aches as it wants to chatter.

You look down at the dark brew. There you are, just the same as you’ve always been, wanting to be a part of a crowd you’ll never fit in with. So you accept the grunt work, you accept being peripheral. You would rather be tolerated than excluded.

He nears Lexi and looks her up and down. “Maybe it’s better they stay sparse, she doesn’t have much on her.”

You roll your tongue and suck your teeth. You stare at the back of her head and your lip curls without thinking. Let him feast. Your disgust turns to content and you let yourself smile.

“What is it?” He asks, the angles of his face catching the early morning light in just the right way. The sun peers in through the square pains set high into the wall. The sight of him almost takes your breath away as his pupils seem to flash silver.

“Nothing,” you lie.

Your eyes wander to the round ornament hung centre on the back wall. Like a clock but without numbers. Instead, the phases of the moon tracked by the ticking gears and iron hands.

“I know when you’re not telling me the truth,” he says.

Does he know? If he did, he would know how you envy him, and at times, even want him. But you know better. You are not like him and it’s clear he won’t let you be like him. That isn’t part of your pact.

You touch the necklace beneath your collar. Your heart flutters as you think of telling him the truth. He squints at you, drinking deep, only to show his tongue in a gesture of revulsion.

“The fucking moon,” he growls, “everything tastes like shit this time of the month… except for fresh meat.”

“Tomorrow night,” you say.

“You know, same as me,” he eyes you narrowly, “come on, pet, stop fucking around and tell me what’s got you so… chipper.”

You put your coffee down and cross your arms. It’s damn cold here. You’ve done your work. You get to go to your room, turn on the heater, and wait out the moon. Just like always. They never cared as long as you brought them a good meal.

“I want to watch,” you whisper.

His brows flick up. That’s the most emotion you’ve seen in him. Genuine emotion. He’s surprised.

“I don’t know about that,” he says, “I don’t know if you can handle that.”

“I can,” you raise your voice, “I want to.”

His nose flairs and his eyes go up to the ceiling, “I’d have to check with the others–”

“But if it’s just you–”

“Pet,” he says tersely and your ears whistle, “you don’t know what you’re asking for. It’s not just about what you’ll see. It’s dangerous. That night, you’ve never felt the way the moonlight fills your veins.”

You look away. Of course you haven’t, they won’t let you feel that. You are just their little minion. A thrall sworn to serve them.

“It’s not a no,” he says to your lack of response, “alright?”

You turn and grab your mug, “alright.”

You take the coffee and head back to the stairs. He’s watching you. You can always feel when he does that. You long for that sensation but at the moment, it only irks you. You deserve to see it happen.

You’ve been waiting years to see Alexis Clover get what’s coming.

🌕

The confusion is expected. They often awake slowly, bleary-eyed, and dazed. Some of them never reach clarity between moonfall. Lexi is silent, eyes open, staring at the wall. She should scream soon. Maybe when she notices you.

You grow impatient. You look up at the windows. It’s a bit early but you’re overeager. You’re not just waiting on the moon, you’re waiting for word from Steve. You haven’t seen him since the morning.

You pull the pocket knife out of your pocket and emerge from the shadows. Her green eyes dart over to you as you unfold the blade. Her gaze falls to the knife, silver gleaming back at her dangerously. The fear in her face contorts to spite.

“I always knew you were a freak,” she sneers.

You stand a foot away as you shift your posture. Your lips twitch and your brow arches without meaning to. You put your chin down as you watch her. She does remember. You knew it.

“Rat girl,” she barks those words that haunted the high school hallways every time you walked down them; the ones she coined herself. “So what is it? You’re going to murder me? You fucking weirdo?”

You don’t answer her. She taught you that. They only ever want a reaction. It doesn’t matter what you say, they’re too narcissistic to hear you. 

You grab the sleeve of her shirt as she winces. She tries to wiggle away but the robes keep her in place. Kraven taught you how to tie those knots. You slip the blade beneath the fabric and slowly slice along the seam.

“What are you doing?” She hisses, trying to jolt the chair but she can’t get any leverage. “Please, don’t hurt me,” her tone softens at once as the back of the silver blade grazes her skin, “please, you can untie me and let me go. I won’t tell anyone.”

You ignore her pleas. Those are expected too. Usually they mention a spouse or children or a job. They beg and they beg. It doesn’t affect you. No one ever cared what you had. No one ever loved you so why should they get to have what you don’t.

“Carmen,” she gasps, “please, Carmen knows I went with you. She’ll tell someone.”

You laugh and shake your head. You continue your intent task, cutting away her clothing a piece at a time. Some things don’t change, you think sourly. You’re still a plain little mouse compared to her. You hate that even now you’re jealous of her.

“Don’t you care? Don’t you care that people will know you’re a monster? They’ll find out.”

You keep your composure though you want to laugh in her face with glee. You’re not as low as her. You have a sense of grace she could never know. You remember her smug smirk as she dumped her latte on your uniform and called you trash. You mimic it as you rip away the layers of fabric.

“You’ll find out,” you back up, the remnants of her clothing heaped in your arm, “soon.”

You turn and dump her clothes in the rolling bin of scraps meant for the weekly bonfire. It’ll be burned after the moon, along with what’s left of her. You leave her shivering through her fruitless threats and name calling. You climb the stairs, slowing as you come down the walkway to your door.

Steve waits for you, hands in his pockets as he leans on the frame. You meet his eye, only for a second before focusing on the wall behind him. Another symptom of your former teenage angst, your inability to interact like a normal fucking human. Good thing he’s not quite that.

“You know her,” he doesn’t ask, it’s a statement. You’re not surprised he was listening. Even if he wasn’t out there, he probably could’ve heard it all. “That’s… bold.”

“I don’t know her. I remember her,” you correct him.

He hums and brings a hand up to his chin. He taps along his cheek as he thinks. He peers up and down the hallway, then back at you.

“Can’t find the others. Not enough time to go out searching,” he says, “so it looks like it’s just you and me.”

You nod, “oh?”

“The other’s can handle themselves,” he scoffs, “I’m not worried.” He steps forward and you have to fight not to back away. That’s always your instinct, to keep distance, not just from him, from everyone. “So why don’t you keep me company?”

You look at him, eyes blazing as your forehead furrows. You don’t want to say it aloud. You still fear hearing the answer.

“Keep your silver on,” he hovers his hand before the crescent necklace by your collar, retracting his hand quickly, “tuck some wolfsbane in your sock and don’t make a noise…” he instead caress your cheek, “my hunger can get the best of me.”

He pulls away and passes you, brushing closely. You stay as you are, standing stiffly as you listen to his retreat, smiling to yourself. You don’t look back until you hear his door open and shut. He gets a bit more touchy feely during this time. Until the bloodlust is sated.

🌕

Steve goes over the plan. He can’t see you. That’s his one rule. You have the wolfsbane in both socks and your silver necklace on your neck. He tells you to hide and not tell him where. You’re nervous, but more excited than afraid.

You’ve been imprinted. They aren’t supposed to hurt you but there’s an unpredictability laced into the moonlight. You stay above, on the second floor, climbing across one of the thick steel beams to watch from there. It should be safest there, and you’ll have a full view of the scene.

You sit shrouded in shadows, a blanket around you, watching Lexi’s shaking form. It’s colder than even the day before. Her pale skin is turning blue. She shivers and lets out a sob. She quit her screaming much earlier, quickly losing her energy.

“Please…” she pleads before calling out your name, “please let me–”

A shrill howl rises up in the night air. From somewhere outside, distance but close enough to hear. It frightens even you. You brace yourself against the upright shaft that holds the beam as she quivers in a fit of tears.

There’s something else. A scratching and scuffing. A bang and clang, followed by the creak of hinges. Heavy and hot breaths, slickened with slobber as they build in tempo. Shallow and frantic, as if unable to get enough air.

You see Steve lurk along the walkway, just a contorted silhouette as he lumbers to the top of the staircase. He lets out a thick growl and hack, falling against the railing, gripping it as he makes his descent, and collapsing at the bottom. 

Lexi sits up and turns her head. She can't see him as his hands hit the floor, as his fingers grow and his nails turn to long shanks. As the fur sprouts from him, thickening as his shoulders broaden and his spine curls. He sets his haunches and pushes himself to his feet, no paws, his snout rising with a soulwrenching howl.

You hug the beam and hold your breath. You pull a hand back to clutch your necklace. Steve sniffs at the air, hot puffs of steam clouding before his snout. Even in this form, you admire him. Dark, silky fur and shining silver eyes. He is forged in power.

Lexi whimpers as she can only hear him. She whines and cries out your name, begging still. Steve pants, huffing into rumbling growls as he circles her. She shrieks as she sees him and his snarls almost sound like laughter. He continues to walk around her, taunting her as he sniffs her bare skin.

He stops before her. You make yourself take a breath. Your mouth is dry and your ears are fuzzy. You feel dizzy at the moment turns surreal. It’s different seeing it. 

He leans in, pressing his nose to her stomach until she squirms and sobs. He drags it up to her chest, nuzzling her in a way that sparks a surge of envy. No, he is going to get rid of her. You are thankful for that.

He brings his paws up to her thighs. She whimpers, pushing her head back as she gulps loudly. He sinks his claws into her soft flesh and she screams. He runs his nose along her collar bone and brushes along her throat.

You see the outline of his fangs as he opens up and you suck in your cheeks, squeezing the silver crescent as his jaw snaps shut. The sudden gush of blood has you hypnotised. You blink, salivating as if you can taste her yourself.

The noise of his gnawing, of his beastly hunger, of the shredding of his claws in her flesh, mulches together in your mind. You cannot look away as the ropes fall away beneath the sharpness of teeth and claw alike. As he drags her from the chair and devours her throat until she can gasp and gurgle no more.

You raise your clutched fist to your mouth and press it to your lips, swallowing a scream of your own. Not quite fear, more adrenaline, you suppress the threatening eruption back into your stomach. You grin, you don’t know who deserves this more; you or her.

Steve licks his chops and throws his head up, letting out another blood-curdling cry. For a moment, you think he sees you as his eyes linger. You freeze and wiggle your foot, feeling the scratch of the wolfsbane in your sock. 

He moves away from her, tugging what’s left of her carcass to splay across the floor. He watches the shadows in the rafters as if presenting you the kill. He knows you, even when he doesn’t know himself. Or so you would like to believe. So you tell yourself so you don’t panic and fall to your doom.

🌕

Dawn approaches before you dare to come down from your perch. Steve is still down there, somewhere, but the moon is gone. You put your foot on the railing along the walkway and lower yourself onto even ground. You go down to the staircase and descend the spiral.

The smell of blood wafts in the air still. As you step onto the first floor, it permeates your nose. You nearly choke on the pungent flavour.

You hear a groan as you look around. Steve sits behind the couch, naked with only a shorn cushion in his lap. He’s a man again though a wolfish glint remains in his irises. You go to the sink and run the water, wetting a cloth before you go to him.

“Happy?” He asks, giving a scarlet smirk as you hold out the wet cloth.

“Sure,” you answer.

He’s watching you again. You don’t meet his eyes. He reaches up but does not take the cloth. He brings both hands to cradle your cheeks.

“You didn’t like it?” He asks.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t say much,” he insists, “look at me.” Your eyes meet his in a heartbeat. By your pact, you cannot disobey him, “tell me… how you feel.”

You swallow and raise the cloth. You wipe away the blood crusting around his hairline. You clear your throat.

“Like you said, happy,” you answer. He drops his hands and lets you continue. You mop away the streaks along his upper face, into the endless red stain from nose down.

“Just happy?” He prompts.

You look him in the eye again. He can hear how your heart pounds. He must know.

“You’re real fucking sick,” he snickers, “you know that?”

“Yep,” you force out dryly. You know you’re not a good person but what other choice did life give you?

He’s quiet as you clean him. He puts his head back as you wipe down his neck, the tendons tensing and his throat bobbing. You feel a tickle along your knee.

“So fucking sick it’s hot,” he slithers, “stop.” He grabs your hand and moves it away from his neck. There are still patches of red all over his face, almost stained brown. “I want you to smell her one me when I fuck you.”

You squeeze the cloth and pause. You lean back on your heels and look him in the face. He smirks as he moves the pillow away from his lap.

“And I know you want it just like that,” he purrs as your heart flips. He’s definitely heard that.

He keeps a hold of your hand and tugs you closer. He pulls on you until you're right in front of him. He reaches and touches the front of your corduroys. 

“Take these off,” he commands and lets you go.

You wince as the demand zips up your spine. Your desire mingles with that eerie compulsion to serve. You drop the cloth and get to your feet. As you stand, you see Lexi’s barren ribcage. You feel a flood of heat inside of you.

You push down your pants, your panties twisting in the thick fabric. You step out of them and kick them across the floor. As you step closer to Steve, he groans.

“Socks, silver,” he mutters.

You retreat and undo the chain around your neck. You toss it to land on your pants and you strip off your boots and socks, hurling them away from you. You go to him again as he reaches up to guide you. He eases you down into his lap, rigid and twitching for you. The sight enlivens you.

He grabs himself, angling himself along your cunt. As his tip touches your folds, you let out an unwitting squeak. You grip his shoulders as he rubs himself against you, your desire slickening him. He prods at your entrance, framing your cunt with two fingers as he spreads your lips wide.

You hold your breath, temples pulsing, ears pounding. You let yourself down onto him, biting your lip as you ignore the scalding strain of his intrusion. You sink your nails into his muscles as he pushes on your hip. He grunts as he feels the brief moment of resistance and you cry out as you sink down completely.

You pant as you hang your head back. You see silver stars as your head thrums and your body shakes. You’re lost in the storm of pain and pleasure. It’s like an electric shock, both agonizing but awakening.

He drags his other hand up your stomach, thumb hooking under your sweater as he urges it up your torso. He reveals your chest and leans in, taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around cloyingly.

His fingers glide back to your clit and rolls it firmly. You gasp and tilt your hips, letting out a yelp as zing rises from his touch. You rock again, encouraged by his groans as the rumble into your chest. You squeak as you take him, over and over, riding him slowly as you try to adjust to the feeling of him. Just to the idea of being filled with something.

His nips at your chest, your nipple hard as he suckles and teethes. He switches, taking the other in with a hungry hum. He keeps his fingers working against your bud as his other hand hooks around your back. He reaches to your neck and urges you closer. He lifts his head and nuzzles your neck.

You smell the blood on him. It enthralls you. His heat, his scent, his voice. It all roils around you as you feel ready to bubble over. That building pressure guides your motion. You’re desperate for the promise in his touch.

“You lied,” he snarls into the crook of your neck as you clasp the back of his head and buck against him.

“About what?” You breathe as your fingers weave through his thick locks.

You yelp as the world shifts and you’re suddenly floating over the floor. He puts you on your back as he gets to his knees, lowering himself over you, staying buried in you. He slides back to his tip and presses his nose to yours. His blue eyes bore down into you. Your gaze flits away instinctively.

“No, look at me,” he orders and your eyes snap back to his. He ruts, jolting you against the rug, “you didn’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

You gasp and suck in your lip. You curl your fingers into his shoulder as your other hand crawls up his stomach. You let your eyes wander down to watch his muscles constrict as he fucks you. You moan and tear your gaze back to his face.

“Not anymore,” you murmur.

He chuckles and leans down, puffing a hot breath along your cheek, “I know, pet, you were never innocent.”

[creativeashproductions]

A Finch’s Journey // Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Summary: A gift from the kindest and warmest woman in a dark period of your life begins a decades-long journey to finding peace and love. 

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader (nicknamed Finch)

Warnings: Inaccurate naval knowledge, swearing, hospitals, treatments, sickness (cancer), angst, character death and FLUFF

Words: 3.2k

A/N: First finished fic in like a year. Thanks Julie.

Masterlist

Your big eyes peered up momentarily at the woman resting in the chair beside you, one hand resting on the armrest and the other dutifully colouring a picture. Your hand meticulously fills in the lines of the dress with indigo colouring. The other hand, in a similar position as the woman who’d taken you under her wing.

“Ma’am?” You shyly spoke, avoiding the curious, gentle blue of the woman who reminded you of days on the beach in the warm sun.

“Sweet pea, you know you don’t have to call me that.” The blonde woman’s smile was gentle and reassuring. 

“Are…are you scared?” You whispered in the already quiet room. You froze as her soft hand lightly took the indigo crayon your small hand had clenched hard enough that it bent.

“Not for me.” She replied, carefully twisting to face you but keeping her arm immobile, “I’ve lived a good life. I loved and was loved deeply. I travelled to places I couldn’t have imagined as a kid. I fell in love and was blessed to raise a son from that love. I’m scared for how my son will be after.”

“’Cause your husband is waiting for you in the clouds, and your son will be alone?” You innocently asked, kicking your feet in the chair. 

She smiled, “because I asked a friend to do something that will hurt him. I’m scared he’ll let the grief and bitterness overtake his life. He’s always been a happy child. You remind me of him.”

You beamed, revealing the tooth you’d lost a few days ago, “Maybe he needs a hug. Hugs always fix things.”

You nervously shifted on your beat-up shoes, looking up at the small cottage on a quiet street. The cottage holding the reason you had travelled to the West Coast from the opposite side. You recognized it from the polaroids the former owner had used to distract you from treatments.

“Can I help you?” A lady asked from the house next door. Her spirally dark hair was streaked with silver.

“Does Bradley Bradshaw live here?” You inquired, turning to face the curious neighbour halted in sweeping her porch.

“He does. He’s away for work. I can take your number and name for him if you’d like.” The lady answered leaning on the broom to focus solely on you. Her brown eyes are unrelenting in the stare.

“That’s okay. I’ll drop by in a few days.” You cast one more look at the house before turning on your heel. 

What’s another couple of days after decades of being two ships passing each other. Your flexible job allowed for extended days since you were a travelling nurse filling in at clinics needing help. 

“Well, I’ll let him know to expect someone. What’s your name?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You responded, turning to walk down the street toward the little bungalow you had rented for a few weeks. 

Your eyes scanned the gorgeous, well-kept houses on the trek back to the main street. It was stunning for a portion of a coastal city, even with the soundtrack of jets flying above the area. But, despite the reason behind stepping foot in the town, you had taken a position at a nearby clinic as a locum nurse.

For the next two or so weeks, you’d been spending your time waiting for Bradley’s return from work. Then you'd move on when you met the man and finished the contract. Maybe plan for the following position to be overseas. You’d love to see Ireland or go somewhere in Spain.

You spent the first two days in town frolicking in the water, building sandcastles with a cute little girl on the beach, and touring. On the third and fourth day, you decided to ask one of the locals for destinations and found yourself driving up the coast. Finally, on the fifth day, you dug out your scrubs and sneakers and made your way to the clinic.

“Morning, Tracy.” You smiled, putting a teal file folder by her arm at the front desk. The redhead beamed from her place in front of the computer.

“Morning, Finch,” Tracy responded, pushing a cup of coffee from the good cafe down the street. Tracy always scored discounts with the cute barista with a crush on her.

“How was the ER last night?” You questioned, flipping through one of the files of patients waiting to be seen. 

The urgent care clinic was a branch of the Naval Base Hospital as a resort for the family of the naval personnel. Typically you saw more sniffles and minor sicknesses in the children compared to the more concerning ones. Well, there was when a retired officer walked in with her finger hanging off by a thread with the question of, ‘hi, do you guys do stitches?’. 

All staff had to pull a shift over at the main hospital while under contract. Yours scheduled for Friday.

“Dead. Overheard a lot of the people stationed were out on missions.” Tracy kept her voice down while answering since she shouldn’t know, but a loose-lipped Lieutenant had been trying to woo her.

“Which means my Friday may be bad.” You hummed, glancing down at the old watch on your wrist. You grabbed one of the files and stepped out from behind the desk.

“Never know.” Tracy responded, turning her back to answer the phone, “Miramar Base Urgent Care.”

You quickly read the name, “Olive Bassett? If you could follow me.”

A young man grasped a small child's hand in a rush to follow you to the hallway. The little girl, five years old as her file read, had gorgeous honey-gold eyes framed by thick dark eyelashes. Golden-hued skin speckled with freckles across the bridge of her nose.

“Jackson Bassett. I’m Olive’s father.” 

Your eyes lifted from the file to meet the same honey-gold coloured eyes, “Mr. Bassett, I’m Nurse Y/N. I’m gonna grab a little information for the doctor.”

“Of course.” Jackson nodded, crouching to pull Olive into his arms before depositing her onto the exam table, “She said her throat was sore two days ago. This morning she spiked a fever, and I brought it down with medicine. She’s having trouble swallowing and can only take a few sips of water.”

Words scrawled over the file as he listed the symptoms and Olive nodded or shook her head at times. Jackson’s wife had been recalled to TOPGUN for a mission nine months back. After receiving word of the transfer, the Bassetts moved to the base a couple months ago. 

“Her fever is higher than I’d like. The doctor will go over my notes and then do a full exam.” Your eyes met the tear-filled ones of little Olive, “Wanna know a secret, Miss Bassett?”

Olive’s head hesitantly nodded.

“Dr. O’Collins has a secret stash of lollies for anyone that knows the secret….” You trailed off, watching a spark flare in the little girl’s eyes again, “Tell him you saw the fairies making fairy dust.”

Olive lit up in excitement.

“She should be fine. Pick up some popsicles for the sore throat, but the Doc will answer any more questions.” You told Jackson, sliding on the stool to push away to the desk in the corner. Your hand found the stickers you had hidden in every room in the building.

You were quick to roll back to Oliver to hand a stick of her choice before waving to the father and daughter.

At one point in your life, you had done your absolute best to avoid all medical facilities or anything that reminded you of when you were sick. You’d spent a lot of your childhood in sterile rooms and understood that your mother’s job in the Navy helped pay for the treatments and medicines. 

You’d relapsed around the same time the lady who kept you company had worsened. You and she never shared the type of cancer you had been diagnosed with. She’d been the adult during a time when your mother had been deployed with the Navy. You owed a lot to her for doing her best to comfort and distract you, all the while suffering herself.

At ten years old, you found yourself in the same room receiving treatment after relapsing a year after entering remission. Not much had changed in the decor or the fact that the woman who had coloured pictures with you sat there too.

What had changed was in the time you’d been diagnosed, battled, found victory, and got sick again you weren’t the same child. You weren’t as innocent. You weren’t as happy. You understood more than what a child should.

“Finch, how’s school going?” She spoke, bringing your attention from the ceiling. You barely rolled your head to face her.

Her cheeks were gaunt, her skin pale, and a scarf kept her head warm in the cold temperature of the room. She knew, hell, you knew that her prognosis was poor. And you both avoided speaking about it. Yet, she hadn’t lost the warmth or happiness in the time you’d known her.

“Doctors won’t let me go to school. I get my assignments mailed on a specialized outline.” Your lips turned down, “I dunno why I have to do math when I’m gonna die.”

Your friend’s eyes saddened, “No, you won’t. You’re so strong Little Goldfinch.”

Goldfinch. A nickname she coined for you when she saw how social you were during your first treatment with the nurses. She could see you becoming a teacher with how well you interacted and treated people kindly.

“Then why are you gonna die?” You demanded, shifting to stare her down, “You’re the strongest person I know!”

Her eyes crinkled in the corners, “Sometimes strengths are different. But, Finch, I’ve made peace with what will happen.”

Her eyes shifted to where the chemo was infusing into your arm through the IV and then to her bare one. Your heart broke because you knew that her treatment no longer worked, and she was spending her time left to be with you.

“But-“

Her hand reached out, “I knew immediately you were gonna be so important to me. I need you to hold on to this for me.”

Her hands reached behind her to the clasp on the necklace that never left her neck. Her husband had given it to her when their son was born. Their son was given a similar pendant with a sun instead while her husband found a ring with stars he slung on the chain of his dog tags.

“You never-“

“I’m sure one day you’ll know what to do with it.” 

Her hands carefully avoided wires in her mission to clasp the necklace around your neck instead. Your smaller hand reaching up to caress the moonstone with the gold diamond-encrusted crescent moon. It was beautiful.

Carole Bradshaw died a month later. A year later, you’d been declared in remission and sitting in a classroom. The necklace still proudly resting on your chest.

Twenty years later, you had dreamt of the ocean, brown eyes and the same necklace Carole had gifted you. You immediately cut your trip to Australia off and bought the first ticket to Virginia. You knew that this was what Carole meant when she gave the necklace to you.

So you’d begun a months-long search to track down Carole’s son Bradley. It had taken visiting the hospital where you and Carole got treatment. And then pleading with your mother to call on an old friend from the Academy. With a destination in hand, you had found a locum nurse position in San Diego.

Now you were standing on the porch of the home of who you really hoped was Carole’s son. But, unlike a week ago, the driveway wasn’t empty. Instead, a light blue Bronco was parked beside the freshly mowed grass.

Your fist raised to knock once, twice and a third time on the front door. Finally, the sound of footsteps sounded inside. The door opened, and your breath was taken away.

“Can I help you?” The person asked, peering at you with tired eyes.

“Are you Bradley Bradshaw?” You asked pushing your hands in the back pockets of your cotton shorts. A thin cardigan over a t-shirt to combat the cool breeze.

 “I am,” Bradley confirmed, leaning on the doorjamb of his home. His brown eyes scanned you from the brown sandals to your e/c eyes. He wondered if you would be interested in grabbing a drink or walking on the beach.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You offered, reaching out to shake his hand in greeting, “I have something that belongs to you. Or well to your mother.”

Rooster stood straight up upon hearing that. His light-hearted thoughts and attraction faded when you mentioned his mother. A stranger.

“H-how would you know my mother? She died when I was nineteen.” Rooster breathed, dropping his crossed arms.

“I know.” You softly breathed, stepping through the open door when he stepped to the side.

The foyer opened in the living room with soft-coloured walls and a frame holding a folded flag on the mantle. White accents and pictures of family littered the walls. You could see the pencil lines of a child being measured on the kitchen door frame.

“How?” Rooster demanded, furrowing his brows.

“Because she was my friend.” You turned to face the confused aviator, “On my eighth birthday my life changed forever. I had been sick for a while. Lethargic, I would become breathless and other stuff. The doctor called during my birthday party. Test results came back, and by the next day, I was sitting in a paediatric oncologist's office.”

Rooster’s breath called in his throat, “Wait are you, Finch?”

Your eyebrows raised, “Carole coined that. I spent my time in the hospital fluttering around to rooms to make friends. It started as Goldfinch and shortened.”

“She spoke about you. Mom was lonely for a lot of my childhood. Then, when she got sick, she lost her spark.” Rooster recalled the scary time learning his mom was really sick, “She got it back when she met a friend. She called you her little Goldfinch.”

“She did everything she could to keep me company. I didn’t have any family other than my parents, who were both on active duty. Deployed a lot. So Carole stepped in as a trusted adult when they weren’t there.” Your smile was wistful, remembering the warm smile and laugh that embodied glee, “Even when she stopped treatment, she would sit with me during mine. She talked about her pride and joy and the adventures she had.”

“She could be anyone’s friend.” Rooster grinned, leaning back on the back of the couch. His ankles crossed, looking at you.

“She could. In the end, she gave me this.” Your deft fingers tugged the moonstone and diamond pendant from under your shirt.

Rooster stood straight up, staring at the necklace lying on your fingertips. For as long as he could remember, Carole Bradshaw never took two pieces of jewellery off. Her wedding ring and the necklace you were wearing.

He didn’t notice he had stepped closer until his calloused fingers gently touched the moonstone.

 “I-I thought this was lost.” He gasped carefully, eyeing the diamonds in the crescent moon. It was as perfect as the last time he saw it was when his mom was alive, “She would brush it off.”

Your lips quirked, “She was pretty mysterious about why she gave it to me. Said ‘I’m sure one day you’ll know what to do with it’ and was tight-lipped about why.”

Rooster’s brown eyes crinkled with mirth, “She was a sucker for movies and books like that.”

Your eyes moved from the pendant to meet the man’s brown pair. It was silent for a moment.

“She loved you. So very much, Bradley. She lit up when she talked about you. She was only scared about how you’d be after she passed. She was worried the grief and bitterness would swallow you.”

He was confused, “What?”

“Carole didn’t tell me much since I was a child, but she mentioned asking a friend to do something that would hurt you. She regretted it, but it was too late to do anything. She only hoped you could forgive her.”

His eyebrows raised as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. It hadn’t been Maverick’s idea to pull his papers. His mom had. 

“Thank you.” Why Rooster was thanking you, he didn’t know. Maybe for the peace, he felt.

“This belongs with you.” You whispered, raising your hands to unclasp the necklace to drop it into his hand, “I think she always meant for me to give it to you.”

In the time since you’d left California, you’d changed your hair, Rooster discovered the moment he’d seen you. It looked good. His hand held his bag tightly as he walked closer to your form.

“Finch!” Rooster called, bringing your attention to the person in front of you.

His brown eyes drank in the lavender-coloured scrub pants paired with the scrub top of cartoon birds. Next, his eyes found the moonstone necklace that had brought you together resting on your chest as it had since he’d returned it eight months ago. Then, his brown eyes finally flicked down to the newest addition he’d given you.

“Roo!” You beamed, running full speed into his arms. 

Rooster shifted to press a lingering kiss to your neck before leaning back to drink you in. His one hand caresses your soft cheek.

“I thought you were flying in on Monday?” You asked, leaning back to stare at him with glittering eyes. The man in question beamed back.

“I scored a few extra days off. Mav’s extra wedding gift.”

His eyes shifted to the band he’d slipped onto your finger a few months back. It matched the one on his hand. 

“Perfect! Roisin gave me a list of places we should check out. She’s got the connections to places only the locals know about!” Your hand grasped his as he let you tug him down from the clinic to the little apartment you had rented for a short time.

Rooster had gotten papers of a deployment a month before your postponed honeymoon would begin. He’d persuaded you to find a locum position for the month-long deployment, and he’d fly to Ireland to meet you.

“Ireland, and then we’re going to Spain?” 

“I have to show you the places I saw. You’ll love it. And then we’ll return to San Diego.” Your words were coy at the end. His eyes moved away from the people moving down the sidewalk to you.

“We’ll? I thought you were heading down to Scotland before coming home?” Rooster asked, pulling you to a stop.

You bit your lip, keeping quiet.

“Finch?” Rooster slowly spoke, reaching to grab your other hand in his clasp.

“I applied for a position at the clinic I was a locum at when I was searching for you. I just need to sign the contracts, and I’ll have a permanent position.”

Rooster flew his head back gleefully in such a way that reminded you so much of the woman who’d held your hand in a sterile room decades ago.

Carole Bradshaw knew you were gonna be important to her. She just didn’t know you’d be more important to Bradley too.

[eternal-love]

Austin and Me

“Don’t tell me bye, bye”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world, Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Our daughter, Lori, was born at 1:30 that afternoon. I couldn’t believe she was mine, that I had birthed this child. She was so tiny, so beautiful. Austin came into the room and kissed me, thrilled that we had a healthy baby. He was already in life with her. He watched her in awe, her hair color, blonde as his, her blue eyes like ours. He watched us both with a twinkle in his eyes.

“We have a little girl.” He whispered to me.

“We sure do.” I whispered back with a slight chuckle.

I asked him if he wanted to hold her. He looked at me petrified, but then he started to touch her. He played with her small hands, her small feet. He was in complete awe.

“I can’t believe I made part of this beautiful child.” Austin always knew he wanted the baby to have light hair. “Even her hair color is right!”

We stayed close to each other for a while, caressing our infant and each other, we were just a young couple happy for the birth of their baby and the pleasures of parenthood.

Two days later, I got discharged from the hospital. I tried looking my best, I had teased my hair to make it even bigger, I did my ever-so-black eye makeup, I got dressed with the help of the nurses. It was a pink shift dress, I had some Pearl-colored heels. Austin wearing blue outfit, I could see the disapproval on his eyes. I had noticed quite lately that he was not on-board with my whole aesthetic.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked as I placed a golden cross necklace around my neck.

“Isn’t it too much?” He said as he fixed his blue turtleneck. “I mean the hair and makeup.”

“I’ve always looked like this.” I said, not understanding his rejection now.

“Yeah but— to get out of the hospital? Your hair is too big. You might as well put a whole bird nest on it.”

He didn’t understand how much his mocking affected me, so I just chuckled awkwardly and he didn’t even notice!

“I like it.” I said confidently, but he was making me feel self conscious.

His sister, Ashley, was there and she was taking pictures of us as we held our baby girl. I was a bit down already— he made me feel insecure. I smiled as the picture was taken, I then looked at him dearly. He sometimes did all these weird comments and then act as if nothing happened.

When we were back home, he had already gotten a cook, a maid and a nanny, which I accepted in our house dearly. But still— postpartum depression got me and no one really ever told me how bad it got. But I was still trying to keep myself together.

————————————

Maybe it was the stress or just the peer pressure of being a new father but he was up and down lately, he’d ignore me all the time or be very loving. Sometimes I just didn’t recognize him, and it hurt.

“Cyn!”

He called me into his office, he did his research for characters there. I was getting dressed, fixing my gold bracelet. I picked up the small Lori in my arms, I walked to his office “Yes?”

“Cyn, I’ve been thinking. I-I have to have time to— think. Things aren’t just going good between us. It’ll be okay if you and I took a little time off, like a trial separation. Be apart from one another for a little while.”

I wanted to kill myself, my eye twitched a little bit, I had literally our week-old baby in my arms right now. This was not the man I knew,

“What? What did I do?” I asked, it had to be a joke.

“Nothing, you did nothing wrong, baby. It’s not you. It’s just that I’m going through some things. I think it’d be better if we took a little break.”

A break? I had just given birth to our baby, a break would make me sink in more into my melancholia. But it he didn’t want me now, then he’d get so. I nodded, finding a bit of strength on being the actual mother of his child.

“You’ve got it. You just tell me when to leave.” I said as I walked out of his office. Instinctively, Austin shot up from his office chair, he knew he had fucked up big time.

“Cyn! I didn’t mean so!” He shouted from his office. I just didn’t understand him, did he want me or did he want me not? He confused me a lot and during that postpartum time, it really hurt me. He made me cry a lot.

I ignored him calling my name and went upstairs to our room. I don’t think he ever intended to leave me. It wasn’t his style. Two days had passed. The idea of a trial separation was never mentioned again. We both acted as if nothing had been said, it was during times like this when I wished both Austin and I could actually have good communication, that we’d confront our insecurities, fears and frustrations instead of pretending they weren’t there.

I could not escape the impact his words had on me, leaving me with a sense of doubt.

————————————

I often cooed Lori, she was so small, I’d talk to her softly. It was like she had sunlight in her hair, stars upon her eyes, she was perfect. On the locket Austin gave me on out first Valentine’s Day together, I placed a small picture of Lori too, so I had her and Austin near my heart.

While I was getting ready for bed, Austin cleared his throat from the doorframe.

“Can we talk, baby?” He said softly. I simply nodded as I finished combing my hair. “I’m so damn sorry bout what I said a few days ago. That wasn’t me— my thoughts and frustrations got be best of me.”

I looked at him, why was he making me so emotional? Maybe it were the hormones? I couldn’t guess but I couldn’t stay mad at those beautiful blue eyes. Especially when he unintentionally made pouty lips.

“It’s okay— I’m also very down lately. I’ve been holding myself back from snapping at anyone close to me.” I chuckled, I shouldn’t be so forgiving because that would come back to bite me.

We fell asleep together, our baby in between us, I’ve never felt this sort of loving before but that’s what happens to me. When I’m happy, I think it’ll last forever.