#[ he did what he could but lives with decisions he hates and regrets that his peers rejoice

[fatedroses]

And some days, I just wish you wouldn't look at me at all.

[marinehero-a]

      <- old man who has no idea how to handle grief / emotions in general

[cherry-leclerc]

true temptation ☆ cl16

genre: sainz!reader, humor, nnn (mommy, i can explain), smut, fluff, whipped!charles, established relationship

word count: 2k

Your boyfriend makes a decision to participate in NNN, but immediately regrets it when he realizes just how difficult it is to stay away from you. 

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...car sex, riding, fingering

req!... probably the longest drabble i’ve done so far, but i hope you all enjoy! 

“You’re never going to last.”

The Monegasque’ eyes challenge you as you stand there unimpressed, hands on your hips. It had all started with him barging in on you and calling an ‘emergency couple’s meeting’.

Pacing the room, he goes back and forth, mumbling slowly, as if creating a plan up in his head. As far as you’re concerned, he was never going to actually do it. The man was obsessed with you. 

“Have a little faith in me,” he groans, hands brushing his hair back in despair. 

His so called - ‘emergency’ -  was that he would be taking part in No Nut November. No kissing. No sex. 

Or anything remotely related to it.

Walking up to him, you pat his chest. His hands find their way down to your waist, doe eyes staring back up at him.

“I will… But I’m going to make your head spin.”

-

He started off strong. He even felt a bounce in his step when he entered Ferrari Hospitality; he swore he felt like he was walking on sunshine. 

“You’re actually doing it?” 

Joris, too, had no hope for his friend. He had seen the way the green eyed boy would cling onto you as if it were the only thing he knew how to do. The way he talked about you, even when you weren’t around. 

“Oui. Why? Do you not think it’s a good idea?”

His friend tilts his head to the side as he thinks about it for a minute. “Not sure. All I know is that your and Pierre’s bet on who can last longer is never going to end up good. You can’t even go a single second without kissing her!”

“He said he could last longer than me? I have to prove him wrong….” His mind slips over to the last part. “I can live without her kisses for a month. It’ll be fine.”

The Ferrari driver makes his way to his team, properly analyzing what faults his car had and how he can make the best out of it. Frustrated, Charles rubs his eyes. 

“I will do the best I can, but I can’t promise a podium. Not with a car like this.”

Taking notes, Xavi nods as he walks away. “Hi, Xavi!” The sound of your voice instantly makes him ease up as he searches for you. His jaw goes slack.

“What are you wearing?”

Smiling wide with eyes crinkled, you rush over to him. “It’s only a dress.”

But it wasn’t just a dress. He knows you did it on purpose, wearing the little black dress he had last fucked you in. It’s the way it fans your thighs as the wind gently teases anyone passing by. 

“You’re supposed to be on my team. Are we really going to let Kika and Pierre win?”

Rolling your eyes, you tippy toe, naturally about to kiss him, but stop yourself before you do. He frowns. 

“You are sooo right!” You comedically screech as you slap your hands against your cheeks. “I do want us to win! Forget the kiss, my mistake.”

He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. 

“You’re a fucking nightmare.”

-

He’s a week in and he’s finally starting to lose his grip.

“You’re sweating buckets, mate,” Daniel points out as he lets out a loud laugh, doing a muppet dive. Charles unbuttons his collared shirt. 

“It’s the heat, it’s the heat.”

The Aussie furrows his eyebrows and he raises a hand up to feel the air. Light breeze. Shivering, you strut over to your boyfriend. 

“Can we leave? It’s getting too cold.”

And he hates the way that dress clings onto your body, your figure being completely shown off. Nothing but dirty thoughts have entered his mind from the moment he first saw you. 

“Sure.”

Kicking off your heels, you throw yourself onto the bed, face first. Shooo tirefff, you mumble against the sheets. He purposefully takes a seat across from you, knowing he’d be tempted to cross the line if he didn’t. 

Tossing over, you reach out for him. And he’s about to turn you down, but he notices the way your nose is painted pink - your cheeks, too - and soft, tired eyes meeting his. His heart melts at the sight. So, he reminds himself that a hug with his girlfriend is nothing bad.

Climbing onto his lap, you dig your face into his chest, short dress riding up. He physically has to stop himself from letting out a loud moan. Instead, he traces his fingers up and down your spine. You shudder.

“Are you sure we can’t fuck, Charlie?”

Right there, is his breaking point. He’s ready to kiss you, finger you, eat you out, fuck you, anything. But you giggle teasingly as you pull back, a wicked smile drawn. 

“Whoops. Never mind.”

-

He’s known you wouldn’t make this easy on him. It’s almost as if you’ve made it your mission to screw with his head - and while he would normally love it - in this case, it was killing him.

Dance with me, you would beg him and you sway in front of him. It was a rare moment of it just being you two, so naturally, you took advantage of it. You showered, did your skincare, watched a movie, but the moment you heard Sparks by Coldplay echoing from his phone, you immediately jumped up like a bunny.

Then, his heart would melt, and melt, and melt - and melt some more. It would only be a reminder of what a perfect match you both were. He would memorize your face once again; no makeup, eyebags due to long travels with him, a small cut on the bridge of your nose from earlier when Lando had accidentally hit you with his frisbee, pink lips he so desperately missed. 

He would oblige, the way you knew he would. He found home within you as you would both sway, your feet on top of his as he would lead you both, you having to do nothing but close your eyes and feel his heartbeat. And it was so sweet to know that it was only yours.

I love you, he would remind you as if he didn’t already tell you a million times before. As if it were a way to make up for all this. And you would say-

“I know.”

-

“How are you keeping up?” 

The Frenchman smiles proudly as he takes a sip of water. “I’m actually doing fine. You?”

Charles gulps, green eyes following to where you stand next to Kika.

“Good.”

-

“It’s actually not that hard.” 

Kika and you had been touching up on your boyfriend's challenge. She would say it as if it were the easiest thing. You slump against your chair.

“That’s not fair… Mine has the most beautiful face ever!”

“Hey!”

You squeal as she aims a pillow at you. I’m sorry! The Portuguese laughs too, sticking her tongue out. You sigh. “I do miss him, though.”

“Yeah…”

“Have we seriously just been talking about how horny we are?”

“Don’t say it like that!” She bites her lip. “We have.”

“Why did they ever think this was going to be a good idea?”

Propping her arm against the table, she beams. “It’s not, but I heard from Pierre about how much Charles is struggling.” You groan.

“Yeah, well that’s nothing but his own fault.”

-

It’s now been 2 weeks and he’s already given up. His pleads were convincing. 

C’mon, baby. Let me fuck you.

It’s been too long. I miss the way you taste.

But you stood your ground. 

“No, no, no.” You shook your head, running away. Seeing Carlos, you hide behind him. “You brought this onto yourself! Now you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Confused, Carlos questions you both on what you’re talking about. It’s just that your sister won’t let me-

“Stop! That’s my brother!”

The Monegasque shrugs as Carlos turns to you. What is he talking about? Your face burns up as you brush him off. “Nada, nada - he’s just being a jerk.” And so, he believes it and walks away, too tired to deal with any of it.

 You let out a squeal when Charles plunges towards you. He picks you up, carrying you to his motorhome.

“Let go!”

Dropping you onto his small bed, he stares down at you like a lion salivating over their prey. You suppress a whimper, clamming your legs shut. He raises a brow.

“You’re telling me you don’t want the same thing I do? I promise I’ll do it just the way you like it.”

Closing your eyes, you can picture it. You can feel him already, pressed up against you. You do want it, you do. Opening your eyes, you shake your head. 

“Just two more weeks to go.”

-

“We lost.” Taken aback, you snort. What do you mean? Your friend blushes before dragging you to the corner. “I mean that last night Pierre and I went out for dinner and one thing led to another and-”

“Okay, okay, I caught on!”

Giggling, she shimmies her shoulders towards you. “What are you going to do?” You pout as you stare back blankly. She sighs. “I’m talking about you and Charles! I mean you both already won - you could do whateverrrr you want.”

Stuttering, you cough before saying, “You made it loud and clear, thank you very much.”

-

Shivering, you climb into the passenger's seat of his Pista as you thank him for opening and closing your door. As soon as he climbs in, he turns on the heater. The Monaco streets were lonely, everyone already in their homes, sheltering from the light rain that had picked up.

“You want to pull over?”

You sound so sweet asking that he almost thinks he’s hallucinating or that any second now you’re going to surprise him with a, just kidding!

But he quickly could tell you weren’t and he doesn’t want to let the moment slip away. Not when he’s been waiting for so long. Screw it if he lost.

Pulling over on the side of an isolated street, he hauls you onto his lap. You thank the universe for skirts. Pushing your panties aside, his long fingers slide against your wet folds. You let out a wail.

“Fuck, you don’t know how I’ve missed hearing you.” He slides two fingers in. “Feeling you.”

Dazed, you find yourself grinding on his fingers. Every single time they would brush against your g-spot, you would kiss him harder. He slips them out, bringing them up to his lips. 

And he moans in a way you’ve never heard before. So fucking sweet. Blushing, you lean in to kiss him. You can still taste yourself.

“Charles, please - do something.”

Never during your entire relationship has he ever fucked you as hard as he did that day. His grip on your waist hurt, but it hurt so good. His cock would continuously brush against where you needed him the most, so much so, he left you seeing stars. Drooling all over him, you hold onto his shoulders, bouncing up and down rapidly.

“So tight – So warm.” He chokes when you ground your hips deeper. “So fucking good.”

Then, he finishes inside of you. His fingers slide down to your clit as he rubs it. You finish with a loud cry. Kissing you one last time, he slaps your ass. You scowl playfully.

“Admit it - you’ve missed it, too.”

-

“Just a few more weeks and you would have won!” Pierre clicks his tongue before kicking his legs up against the table in front of him. Charles rolls his eyes.

“I’m never doing that again.”

Kika smacks the Frechman’s thigh. “You both lost, remember? Only, you did before him.” The Monegasque quickly springs up.

“You’re saying we won?”

“You’re acting as if this were the fucking Olympics, Cha.” You drag him by the arm to sit back down as he starts celebrating his ‘accomplishment of the year’.

“What are we clapping about?”

Your brother strolls over to an open seat as he opens up a water bottle. Hurriedly, you screech, “Nothing! Only that the season is almost over-”

“He’s yapping about how he won No Nut November, except, he didn’t. 2 weeks and fucking does not count.”

“You did what?”

Jumping up, Charles trips over his feet as he tries backing away from the angry Spaniard. “I think I forgot my phone! I’ll be right back!”

Chasing after him, your brother yells out, “That’s my baby sister, cabrón!”

[g1rlken]

┏ Like real people do ┐

Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

summary: The reader is Aemond’s new bride, a match fixed some time before Viserys’s death. Daemon’s daughter through Lady Royce navigates through a difficult now into a new chapter of being married to the one eyed prince, council and war.

warnings: daemon being an awful dad, Luke’s death, attachment issues, angst, slow burn, arranged marriage

word count: 5.1k

Part 1. Part 2

-

Worlds changed, dragons spew fire, flowers burnt and flowers bloomed, children born and doomed. Y/n, Daemon Targeryn’s first born through Lady Rhea Royce. A child he had despised ever since her birth, just an extension for his hatred towards Lady Royce in the first place. He could never stand her, having been forced to his duties he hated her even more. He was never around for the aftermath of anything, the rogue prince who knew no bounds. The child wasn’t even half a year old when he mercilessly put an end to Lady Royce. The ‘accident’ left the child at the kindness of pitiful wet nurses and the castle staff.

King Viserys however couldn’t stand such tragedy over and over, he generally refrained from interfering his brother’s life. He did regret his decision of marrying daemon to someone against his will but he could not have anticipated such a harsh counter reaction via Daemon. Especially after the babe, Viserys thought the child could perhaps soften the coldness of their relations but it only got worse. The king wished to seek some atonement at least for the sake of the child. Y/n, the princess, away at the grasslands of Runestone. He arranged for her to live at the red keep, a motherless child with an absent father would do better within her present family. The King’s children through alicent were mere babies themselves. The maids, the kind Queen herself, would do well to look after the infant. After all the red keep was her house just as much as it was Daemon’s despite his grievance towards it. Her dragon too was well looked after through the keeps instead of Runestone staff. Her dragon was just a hatchling as y/n too was a baby herself.

Alicent, younger at the time. The keep’s staff, mastered in squalling babies and fussy infants. Y/n wasn’t a bother at all. Not that she were to remember but Queen alicent was kinder to her than the fates had been, she nursed her like one of her own. Such fondness and softness towards daughters, it was nice enough. At least for a while. Y/n was six by the time daemon had come for Rhaenyra’s wedding, then off with Laena. No familiarity between the six year old y/n and her father. Too young to understand her family setting and Daemon still rancour.

Daemon had two daughters with the driftmark princess, viserys deemed him capable enough to raise y/n then. He decided to send little y/n back to her father, viserys wanted his brother to accept his daughter. Alicent had a smaller voice at that time yet she tried to reason with her husband to let y/n be at the keep. Daemon had to accept his brother’s whim anyways so he did. Viserys was as relieved as Alicent was anxious that y/n was in Pentos. King made the decision in good faith, if only he put a bit more distrust in daemon than he did trust. Daemon was still the same, y/n, still a child and he did nothing to make her feel included or at home. She learnt to keep to herself how she had seen Haelena do. Still quite young to comprehend where all such distaste came from, all these different people, different land. She longed to call a place home, her memories of the red keep, Alicent, the others it kept fading because she was but a baby back then. Her father wouldn’t teach y/n how to ride on dragon back how he did with her half sisters. But y/n had taught it to herself. Watching she learnt, she didn’t have to be told explicitly what to do. She fell a lot, on her face and back but she learnt anyways.

As years passed nothing changed between y/n and her father, her half sisters were company enough time to time but she was always in their orbit and not as close. All until Driftmark, they lost lady Laena. Y/n was in her early teens and she tried to be there for Baela and Rhaena. She stood by their side through their mother’s funeral. She understood the gravity of such tragedy, she lived with that grief all her life for her mother who was a stranger she never even met. But she mourned her longer than she’d known her.

Reunited with Alicent, gaining a distasteful look from Daemon. “You’ve grown so much” Alicent remarked as she pulled the girl into her embrace. Both of them looked so much different from when they last met each other. The girl had distant memory of the queen but her warmth was nicer than she had known anyone else’s. Despite the occasion alicent was brought some peace of mind seeing Y/n, she didn’t look her best but at least not the worst. She didn’t have to ask y/n to know if Daemon spoke to her, if she felt at home. She reintroduced y/n to her children, some of them y/n didn’t even remember through faces if not for name.

“She was such a small babe.” Helaena commented as she greeted the young girl. It had been years since Helaena had seen her. Aegon and Aemond just stood with disinterest, Aemond trying to mask it otherwise regardless.

After the tragedy that was which followed Laena’s death upon the nightfall of her funeral. Aemond’s eye was taken and it was a rather gruesome unfolding. A night which left a permanent distance between families. A mark which shaped Aemond for years to come.

As the years followed, dragonstone proved to be just as dreary and awfully lonely for y/n. None of her half siblings were her own or ever treated her as such, unsolicited kindness was all she would get here and there and she had accepted surviving it. Thinking of lives far away, a place where life would begin. But it was perhaps never. As King Viserys’s health worsened the queen and hand took matters into their own hands bit by bit.

The queen, declared that it is but the king’s wish for Aemond to be married with y/n, Daemon’s firstborn. Viserys was asked about it, surely, his decision was firm and wearily elated about the marriage so what does it matter who pitched the thought as long as the king agreed. Aemond was agitated. He did not want it, at all. For the ever present and abiding Aemond he had a rift with the thought of marriage to y/n. But he kept his shortcomings to himself.

Even more so mortified was y/n, she didn’t remember how exactly was her childhood at the red keep but she did recall that ever since driftmark, that family would surely not have a soft heart for her. “Father please don’t-please don’t make me do this” she pleaded Daemon.

“It is the King, my brother’s wish.” Daemon said in a disregard of her wish, surprisingly he was fine with his brother’s second hand wish too. Daemon was aware that the Hightower queen and Otto is who pulled all the strings and his brother was a bed ridden king but this was a decision in his favour as long as he could be rid of y/n.

“You cannot marry me off like this!” She exclaimed, for someone who rarely expressed thoughts to daemon. Something she learnt in all those years with being met with cold shoulder all of life, she had to fight for her life as of now. “Not to Aemond, please father please, I do not know any of them-“

“You do. You have spent most of your childhood at the hip of that Hightower queen you will be just fine.” Daemon scoffed with a bit of condescension in his voice. Indifference as he referred to Alicent.

“I do not remember them” y/n tried to reason, any wet nurse could show sympathy to a high born motherless child she did not account to be in a marriage with that sympathy at this stage in her life. “They are complete strangers, father, please I will stay wherever you ask please don’t marry me off!”

“You are of age, y/n. This is a fitting decision for you!” He exclaimed with growing irritation at this conversation, daemon never paid mind to her moreover chose not to and hence he had expected her to show nothing but compliance.

“For me or for you?” She asked with a bitter huff looking away from her father already losing hope in this conversation, she couldn’t stomach this decision without letting him know her repulsion of it. “You are so eager to wash your hands off of me as if I have ever wronged you, all my life, I’ve never asked for anything-“

“Haven’t you?!” Daemon said loudly, his rage visible in his tone “The fact that you exist is asking too much of me as it is. You are an awful reminder and a mistake. I have been subjected to duty and honour and it is only fair if you are too. It is your duty, if not to me then to the King.” With that the door was slammed as the rogue prince walked out, an ironic vision of her life.

A bitter goodbye and an uncertain life with little to no hope y/n was set for the red keep, glancing back at dragonstone for one last time. She didn’t know if she held any homely softness for that place in her heart but she presumed the life which awaited her would be more dreary than the stone.

The wedding was an intimate affair, a small ceremony but still a lot of strangers y/n had never seen. Daemon refrained from attending but it was no surprise. She was met with warmth and affection from her mother in law and her family but not her husband to be, they were all a strange set of people down here in the south from the maids to the king himself who didn’t even sit on the throne yet made decisions.

Even the most beautiful flowers would wither away at the heavy heart of the new bride of new title, the princess. She couldn’t stand her person she was becoming or moreover the mere idea of what she had to be. Aemond wouldn’t even share the same bad as her, almost every night for the first week. He’d rather sleep on the sofa or some nights he’d just never return from wherever he wandered off to.

Barely getting the grasp of it, small domestic solaces just everytime she was with Halena and her mother in law, tending to her niece and nephew. The only time she felt less alone but she was familiar with the loneliness, that wasn’t the problem. It was the nerve wrecking confusion and uncertainty that followed after, eating her alive every night that she would lay. Within strangers now, she felt a stranger to herself too.

Days passed, circumstances arose: the king fell. Aegon was declared the king, a restless unease of an upcoming war. The hand’s very first decision was passing daemon’s seat on the council to y/n. “What?” She asked wide eyed as the hand and queen pitched it to her. “Why, me? I’m not even that learned…” she trailed off.

“You spend most of your time in the library, you happen to have a knack for reading. I’m assuming you can write too?” Otto questioned, if more number of people on the council were his own to mould and speak for the rule would be so much easier.

“Yes but just letters and scrolls..” she trailed off with a sigh, it was rather strange they would approach her for something as important as the council in the first place.

“We need sharp mind of a soft heart on the council.” Alicent said as she caressed her daughter in law’s cheek, with a smile to put some confidence in her. Despite her father’s motives of having y/n on the council, Alicent believed y/n would prove to be rather fruitful and genuine.

“It is also your birthright, through your father’s seat on King Viserys’s council. It is only right if you were to be a part of it.” Otto added in an encouraging manner. The pieces were being set already, as the blacks were processing their own steps.

They had Aemond set to go meet lord Dorros the very next morrow, with a bribe of the crown’s coin and loyalty. The forces set, Aegon’s coronation done. Just one last afternoon council left. Aegon, riding the high of his coronation wasn’t present in this one.

Everyone took their respective seats, it was an eventful morning’s slow afternoon. The coronation was as eventful as it was unpleasant with the beast beneath the boards. Sending out scrolls to other lords, the council discussed it. Y/n didn’t say anything, just listening. Writing out the needed scrolls, Alicent quietly remarked her beautiful hand at the words.

The door slammed open as Aemond entered, he was enraged at his wife’s seat on the council. “Aemond.” Alicent said as the room stiffened.

“What is this?” He asked with as his brows furrowed, he felt very wronged and partially frustrated that his lady wife had a seat on the council above him.

“It’s a meeting.” Otto declared as he looked back from the board back to Aemond, “Not yet done, what is your business here?”

“What is she doing here?” Aemond inquired as he leant over a chair, more belonging in this room than anyone else. Especially his wife, he thought to himself the other members with an awkward look on their face.

“She has a seat extended on the king’s council after her own father, daemon.” Otto filled him in on the subject, visibly disinterested.

“Daemon’s claim on the council died with my father’s death. She holds no such extension.” Aemond reasoned calmly, very much opposed to the irritation rising inside him.

“I’m still a hand to the king aren’t I? Your mother is on the council. Lord Tyland-“ Otto replied back but was interrupted by Aemond midway before he made his point.

“None of them sworn against Aegon. Daemon has called for the pretender hence his seat on this council holds no significance.” Aemond scoffed looking down at his wife who sat, scrolls lay in front of her and a pen in her hand. She felt overwhelmed with such necessary distaste, the hand to the king and queen mother herself asked her to join the council yet Aemond had an issue. It’s not as if she were to act against the interest of the crown or make big decisions to begin with.

“She is the princess. Your lawfully wedded wife, in the eyes of the gods and all the members of this very council and more. Despite Daemon’s treachery and your incoherent jealousy she belongs here.” Otto said breaking Aemond’s mouth, he knew which nerve to exactly hit. Saying Aemond was jealous, of his lady wife’s seat in front of everyone. It was enough to send him seething back and he was right. With a huff as he stared down at y/n, he turned to his heel at left.

Everyone had their accustomed part with a potential war brewing. Aemond had to leave to meet lord borros next morning. Y/n assumed he would be calculating and supposedly busy with his task at hand yet he found time to cause a scene at the council. Y/n knew that nobody on the council saw her as a threat because they all knew of daemon’s indifference for her. The black sheep. In truth she didn’t owe her father any loyalty either so their calculations were correct, her husband however.

She planned to avoid him regardless, spending the rest of the day with the twins, Helaena talking her ear off about her fixated spider and y/n loved that too. Jaehaera was playing with y/n’s hair, adding her toys into it making improper braids. Jahaerys running in circles and hoarding his toys in y/n’s lap as she enjoyed a conversation with their mother.

Alicent walked in, for a moment just taking in the domesticity of the scene. The serenity, the girls laughing. It was rather rare before y/n to see Helaena at peace like this. She entered with a soft knock greeting everyone and she took a seat next to y/n, “Children you must retire your auntie now, it’s rather late!”

“It’s alright mother, it’s not that late.” protested, Haelena she enjoyed y/n’s company as much as the whining children, Jaehaera caged y/n in her tiny arms from her back to not let her go. However through alicent’s hesitant eyes y/n realised she must have some sort of business to discuss.

“Forgive me my loves I am growing a bit tired…but I’m not going anywhere I’d be back soon enough!” She said with a sigh as she kissed the twins goodbye, both of them a bit protestant but let her go eventually. “Good evening, Helaena.” She smiled and bid her goodbye as well and exited with her mother in law.

After they were out in the hallway, secluded of other ears Alicent proceeded “Are you alright?”

“Yes, your grace” y/n replied with a non hesitant nod, in an instant with a smile confused why would that question come up.

“Mother.” She corrected her stopping on her way to turn to face her.

“-Mother.” Y/n said with a soft smile rephrasing her title.

“After…today’s council. You have been avoiding Aemond?” She asked searching for y/n’s dreary eyes.

“No-that is not the case” y/n shook her head trying to formulate a better answer given she hadn’t asked that question to herself. Because in a sense she was avoiding Aemond. “I—“ she breathed “I am rather anxious.”

“Of what? Does he speak to you in an ill manner? Do you wish for me to talk to him?” Alicent inquired concerned for her hesitation of Aemond’s lashing out or whatever it was she was trying to avoid.

“No-no it’s not that…I just feel guilty. He wants an authority, his opinion to be heard at council level and I get that place before him, we’re not at the best terms to begin with and now he must be cross with me” Y/n explained her worry with a sigh.

“And? It is your right, y/n.” Alicent said as she took her hand into hers in an affirming way, “you must never feel guilty for claims that are solely yours.” She explained, “as of Aemond, he can be difficult sometimes, but I assure you he isn’t malevolent. He loves you.”

The Queen mother’s assurance felt it came from a place of gentle constitution and the motherly naïveté of overlooking some things but y/n was more than aware that Aemond did anything but love her. She was familiar with lack of warmth, affection, just so far from it she could almost find strange ways to dwell in it. It was an emotion she knew for so long, from her father’s house to her husband’s, bricks of her old life and no love.

But she did not tell alicent of her wearies, after all she did not worry about it she was at terms with it. But she was worried meeting Aemond, as of now, she walked the hallway to their shared bedchamber with heavy breaths. Aemond was looking out the giant window, he had a journey to make the next morning to the baratheons yet he wasn’t resting or preparing. Much to y/n’s demise she hoped he’d be off somewhere else. She closed the door behind her as she entered, Aemond never talked to her generally. She never spoke unless spoken to but today silence weighed heavy between the two of them.

“The meeting ran late did it?” Aemond asked without looking back at her, he could tell from the soft stride who entered their chambers.

“No, I was with Helaena…” She trailed off growing strangely anxious because she felt answerable to him. As if it would compensate him and that was her burden to bear. “The meeting was rather trivial”

“Was it now?” He scoffed in a bigger way and turned to face her, “You must have provided the trivial meeting with your other worldly wit and understanding of warfare.”

“Aemond” she said taking in a sharp breath, meaning to tread carefully “I know you are upset. Believe me I did not know beforehand of the planning nor was it offered to me, the hand-queen mother they deemed it as my duty and right and I did not have other choice otherwise I would’ve asked you…”

“Asked me what?” Aemond interrogated crossing his arms as he leant against the stone pillar, her feigning nonchalance and false sympathy irritated him to no end.

“To take my place” she answered. She meant it in a genuine sense because she did not hold the same passion or want for a seat on the King’s council the way Aemond did. It was far from her. “I’d rather you take my place, I have no wish for authority on the council. I could ask the hand to-“

“You truly are the imbecile I presumed you to be.” He said assertively as he stiffened, his shoulders tight. “Are you that naive? Do you think I would need your help to put myself on the council? Yours?” He said as he huffed, berating her was his intention. Y/n remained silent, unmoving in her place no matter however she tried and help him or soften the rift in their marriage he was always imbecile from it. In the meantime he walked a bit closer to her, towering over her given his taller stature he leant forward by a bit to make himself appear intimidating.

“My apologies then.” She muttered lowering her gaze from his because she felt rather scrutinised by him as if she was at fault for something, as if she had wronged him. “Excuse me” she said before he could reply and attempted to retreat away to the adjoint bathroom. Wait out him falling asleep or leaving. The newlywed with their peculiar marriage of indifference.

-

Aemomd’s return from his errand with the Baratheon lord contained of a difficult detour nobody had anticipated. Rather difficult, to navigate such a blow through warfare. The council, y/n merely heard and spoke four sentences on an average, was shocked. No idea of action status not war treading. Circumstance heavy on everyone. Shame and disregard.

Sitting by the burning lamp, late evening, the scrolls and letters were to be written with such urgency after what happened with lucerys y/n had to take it to her own desk. Too busy with the works she barely processed the loss yet, she did not know Lucerys as a brother but an acquaintance who was rather kind to her all those years.

She barely looked up when the door opened, only when Aemond drew closer. Rather too close to her desk, he leant on the table where she was writing. Close to where she was sitting he breathed heavily. Putting the pen down and the scroll aside y/n looked up at him. “What did the king say?”

“The king?” Aemond repeated with a small laugh, he was still getting used to the new titles but referring those even behind closed doors was somewhat strange. “Aegon, he is not the most serious about it. Collateral damage he said.” Aemond repeated the words, he was never fond of the bastard himself but he never planned to take such drastic step. “Grand sire had a lot to say and mother, she is disappointed. Perhaps everyone is disappointed?” He asked emphasising ‘everyone’ referring to her. He did not know of his lady wife’s connection with the Strong boy but his own mother had a dislike for him and yet she was disappointed.

“I don’t know warfare as good as the lot of you, but” she nodded to his previous implication of being disappointed in a way, such loss must be difficult to stomach for those really close. “It is a lot…”

“Do you grieve him?” Aemond asked, his tone non threatening nor interrogative, subtly calm.

Pausing y/n thought about it for a moment, she was quick to side with the hand’s cold and calculative decisions as her mother in law suggested writing Rhaenyra letters instead, y/n herself weighed heavy on practicality as if grief was non existent. In a way it was. “I don’t know” she said puzzled “We were never close but he was kind to me, not all of them and not everytime but whenever he could be…” she trailed off. “He was easily anxious about a lot of things, scared.” Last time she had seen him it was the dinner for King Viserys upon the discussion to heir of driftmark. The scene that followed that dinner was distant in y/n’s mind until now. The same inferior fright was in Luke’s eyes that day.

Aemond did not say anything, her words made him feel guilty even more so but he would never display to anyone. He fought for his life debating to the council, to grandsire that it was an accident however not enough for him to take accountability of it as if he had done something wrong. He knew he had, but he did not show it. He could not. It did not come from a place of sympathy nor altruistic intentions but an ambush of unsolicited guilt. “Is it true?” She asked him.

“What is?” He replied as her voice pulled him out of his thought and his gaze met hers, she still sat on the desk the soft orange hue of the lantern on her face.

“You hold no regret?” She asked him referring to the conversation he had with the council when he was confronted about what happened. He did not owe his truthfulness to anyone, especially not the council.

The heavy silence between the two of them told her more than his words could, her eyes softened as he pondered his unsaid exoneration. Nobody would believe him but she might just, “I did not mean for that to happen, nor did I plan it.”

There was a crack in his demeanour, very different from how he presented himself back in front of everyone else about the the whole ordeal. Accountability seeping in and he should know, “Acting bigger than the situation won’t provide you with the atonement you are looking for.” She told him, forgetting herself when he asked for her advice and she assumed in such delicate state of mind he would rather lash out than listen but he did not. He was present, here to listen. To her? So far he had made it so very clear that he held no regard for her whatsoever.

“I am not looking for atonement.” He said more to himself than to her in a gentle tone and a hint of lostness in his expression. He longed for something, some consolation of some kind but he did not know exactly what and he felt restless with heavy emotions.

“You are.” She answered for the question he did not ask out loud, however the epiphany of it was not lost on him as he looked at her like an open wound. He did not protest her because she was right, she held the answers to herself. She could think for him despite of what he did and it unsettled him in some way because he had never felt such softness of anyone else. To know that he had done something he would have to seek atonement for and…hold regard for him still?

“Do you see me differently then?” He asked, small fright creeping him on the inside if she affirmed his answer.

“No” she replied without hesitation nor enthusiasm, she did see him less ruthless and uncaring than she had previously known him to be but she did not tell him that in this state of mind of his. However the heavy silence and the remorseful tension was too much to bear. She stood up from her chair seemingly to leave and attend some other task, just then realising he stood rather close. Before she could attempt to move away he stopped her. Holding her by her wrist he pulled her close but he was already close enough, the distance shortening this small for the first time since their wedding.

“Do you truly, not see differently?” He asked again with searching eyes. He couldn’t do with her short no however affirming as it was it wasn’t absorbing. It did not feed to his shame and guilt.

Y/n did not know how to soothe his wearies, she never thought her perception would matter to him at all. The walls within their marriage came crumbling down as he held her wrist it seemed, she wasn’t going away yet he kept a hold of her. To ground himself more than her. After staring into his eye for what seemed like an eternity she simply pulled him into her embrace, in a tight embrace. Her arms holding his broad stature the best they could, raising on her toes to bring him as close as she could.

Aemond was stunned to say, for a moment. He could not fathom she would want to tread so gently with him after what he had done he did not expect such, such softness. As he enlaced his arms around her waist, hugging her back as he raised her closer to him. His person. He had never felt such warmth and love of hands that would show soft affection even after knowing his ugly work, he was met with her comfort when he deserved retribution. It nestled his spirit in a serene place, he worried the place would vanish if he let go off her so he didn’t. He kept holding her close to him, closer of it was possible as he buried his face by the crook of her neck.

After a while she pulled away but not entirely, resting her temple against his. His soft breath on her as she sighed closing her eyes. He followed to, until he met her gaze again. His impulse wanted to touch her face to make sure she was real, that this moment was. So he did. Fixing the loose strand of her hair behind her ear he cupped her face. She did not move away, heart racing in such gentle exchange between the two of them. It was a first and he did not want her to extend her boundaries for his sake but he could not stop himself, he brushed his lips against her.

Indulging in a passionate kiss, holding her face in his hands as if she was made of porcelain. It was the first time somebody had held y/n with such fragility. Such affection was very foreign to her all her life, even the kiss on their wedding day felt forced and ceremonial. But this felt real, it was. She kissed him back and held him close, standing in the light of a desk lantern, the moonlight seeping in and lovers who might just be alright.

—

—part 2.

I am sorry if this feels rushed, i skipped season 1 bc i want to do all of s2…please let me know what you think in the comments 💕

If you want to be in the taglist pls comment AND go drink water RIGHT NOW ILY SO MUCH !!!!!!!!

-

[moonlight1110]

Crawling back to you

ex-boyfriend!Ghost x Reader ; (Late) Valentines Special ;)

Your ex-boyfriend who comes banging at your door in the middle of the night. He desperately wants you back, and when he invites himself in, is there really nothing else you can do?

Tags: afab!reader, p in v, smut, nsfw, vaginal sex, rough sex (kinda idk), mating press, pathetic!Simon, far from canon simon, i write with badjhur's voice in my ear, not propfread, proofread anyway BC I hate typos

Notes: planned on writing something for valentines but uni fucked me sideways so im posting today <3

"What the hell..." You jump as three hard knocks come from your door, almost as if the person on the other side was just a second away from breaking it down.

You didn't need to go through your mental library to know who it was, you knew exactly who was at your door at this ungodly hour because who else in their right mind would show up uninvited except him.

With a grunt, you roll off of bed and trudge to your front door. A heavy feeling pressing down on your chest as you got closer and closer to the door, you contemplated if opening it was even a good option, but knowing who was on the other side, choosing to ignore him was going to be a poor decision on your part.

With an tired sigh, you grabbed the door knob, squeezing it as doubts ran through your mind, but you are snapped out of it when he knocks, even harder than before.

"What are you doing?!" You ask, trying not to scream at him to avoid receiving another noise complaint from your overbearing neighbors when you opened the door slightly to peek out the small crack of it. Standing on the other side was someone you knew all too well.

"Let me in" his voice was low as he looked down at you, dark eyes staring at you from the opening of his balaclava. "Please..." He took a step forward, placing a hand on your door, but you stayed firm. "Simon, you can't just come here in the middle of the night and expect me to let you in" you argued, hardening the hand that was holding your door.

"I miss you, baby, come on..." He pushed the door slightly, you knew you wouldn't stand a chance even if you tried your hardest to shut the door. With how strong and large Simon was, trying to fight back against him was next to impossible.

"Simon, please..." You looked at him, brows furrowing. However, even at your attempts to stand by your decision, there was a part of you that wanted him to just push your door open... An unexplainable feeling, you thought.

"Take me back... I'll do anything" He sounded desperate, his voice sounded unlike the person you thought you knew, he sounded hurt, vulnerable, not like the usual stone cold and stoic Ghost you knew.

"You broke up with me remember... You can't just go back on that when you want to" your expression hardened in contrast to his which softened as he looked into your eyes. He regretted it, deeply.

"I did, I know that but I didn't know I would be making the biggest mistake of my life, love..." He steps closer, pushing your door open just a bit again. "Don't call me that... Just don't" you shake your head in disapproval but that small part of you just misses the way he called you that, how it rolled off his tongue like honey, you missed it.

"Just let me in, let's talk... I miss you" the last part comes out as a mumbled plea as he pushes your door open finally, stepping inside like he never left. Those three words just made you want to jump over the boundaries you so desperately tried to build up, but all you could do was step aside and let him in, there was no point in fighting him.

"What's there left to talk about, Simon?" You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as Simon removed his shoes, it looked so familiar next to yours...

"I want you back, I can't fuckin' live without you..." His brows knit together as he looks down at you, reaching out but you step back with a disapproving look. "Then why did you end it in the first place if you were just gonna come back to me anyway..." Your hands fall to your sides with a defeated sigh leaving your lips.

"I told you, it was the distance, my work... I thought breaking up with you would be the best choice for the both f'us..." Ignoring your attempts at creating space between you, he steps closer, caging you between his arms as he leaned against the wall, effectively trapping you under him.

"I was wrong, baby... So fuckin' wrong..." he whispered, his eyes silently pleading for your to just listen. He leaned forward so close you could feel his hot breath even through the fabric of his balaclava.

"I didn't even want to leave you..." You started, your face scrunching as you remembered the events that happened the day he cut things off between the two of you. "You made up so many reasons, so many excuses... You put words in my mouth..." You looked away, feeling your chest tighten again at the recollection of your memories together. It hurt to bring up and remember but with seeing Simon standing in front of you again, it was impossible to push those thoughts away.

"I know, I know..." He took your chin inbetween his index and thumb, willing you to look back at him. His expression was one of guilt and desperation, that much was clear with the way he was looking at you.

"But I can't stand another day without you, been regretting that decision every fuckin' day, love..." He leans in, snaking a hand around your waist. You want to pull away, to push him off and tell him to fuck off from you forever but you don't, you just cant find it in you to push him away when all you wanted was to be with him.

"Those months away from you felt like an eternity, don't wanna feel that anymore..." He pulls you closer, holding you tightly against his chest with his nose now inhaling the scent of your hair from the crook of your neck.

"We can't... This is the type of shit that complicates things, Simon..." you place your hands on his chest as if you even wanna push him off you. "I don't care..." He groans and pulls his balaclava off, breathing against your neck. It makes you squirm the way his hands are travelling down now, you missed it more than you were willingly to openly admit to him anyway, but that's no issue for how your body is responding.

"Fuck if it means we'll get complicated, I need you back..." He kisses at your neck, still familiar with all the spots that just made you melt. "Can't be away from you for another fuckin' day, baby..." He groans, pinning you against the wall by your hips, grinding a knee to your clothed cunt.

"Just say the word and I'll leave..." He groans, giving your throat a good lick all the way to your collarbone as his hands found your ass, kneading like he owned it. "I'll leave and I'll never come back, I won't bother you... But y'need to tell me..." His lips drag along your shoulder as he pulls you closer on his thigh, "Tell me... Tell me y'never wanna see me again, push me away..." He mumbles against the side of your neck.

Your breath hitches in your throat with the way he was talking to you, you knew Simon was a man who was true to his word and once you'd tell him to leave, he would.

"C'mon..." he retracts from your neck and pulls back to look you in the eyes, his brows are furrowed and his eyes are blown out as his eyes flicker over your features like he's trying to memorize every single detail before you told him to leave.

"I..." you scramble to find the words, you wanna tell him to leave but you also want him to stay, you two didn't even end on that much of a bad note, it was a misunderstanding, a poor decision which was made in the heat of the moment...

"Don't leave..." You give in to your emotions, just seeing Simon again after your breakup hurt like hell, but god would you curse yourself if you allowed him to leave again... You couldn't take that, seeing him walk out again, leaving you for the second time.

"Fuck..." He groans as he connects your lips, his hands are pulling at you and pinning you against the wall. It's a passionate and desperate kiss from him, which you return with your own, full of want and the same desperation you craved would be quenched for such a long time. No one did it like him, no one ever loved you like Simon Riley ever did.

Your arms find his neck as your head tilts, allowing Simon to push his tongue past your lips. He doesn't let up, doesn't get up for air, he just fucking wants you, wants to take you right then and there with how much he misses you.

His hands cup your ass as he lifts you up against the all and you wrap your legs around his torso as he finally pulls away from the kiss. "I need you, baby... Fuckin' missed you too much..." he practically growled as he sucked on your neck, walking to your bedroom.

"Simon, calm down..." You mumbled as he set you down on the bed, you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating but that only made him chuckle. "Can't calm down when I have you in my arms again, love" He stared down at you as he leaned back up, removing his shirt quickly.

"Missed you so much..." He whispered against your ear when he dove back down, making space for himself between your legs as he hovered on top of you with his arms on either side of your head. "Missed the way you feel around me..." He hummed while his hands trailed down your waist, to your hips, then just above the hem of your flimsy sleeping shorts.

"Did y'think 'bout me too? hm?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw as his hand travelled under your shorts, his middle finger now circling on your wet clit through your panties. You didn't notice how you ruined your underwear until you felt how slick and uncomfortable it was when Simon pressed harder against your clit.

"Yeah... I did..." you whispered breathily, back arching at the feeling of Simon's thick fingers pleasuring you. He smirks, taking the opportunity to kiss and suck at your neck. "Mmm... Yeah?" He chuckles against your throat, parting your slick covered panties to the side to finally tease at your wet pussy.

"Fuck baby... She missed me didn't she?" he laughs, looking down at the way his hand moved from under your shorts. "Fuckin' pussy missed me too, huh?" He chuckles, as he pushes his thick finger inside you, making you gasp and grip at his arm.

"Simon!" you shut your eyes, back arching as he pressed gentle kisses against your throat. "Relax baby... need to prepare you again, been too long since I've fucked this pretty little pussy..." He coos, adding another finger to stretch you out, curling them so deliciously inside you.

"Fuck... I-" you whimper, sucking in a breath as he finds that spot inside you that just makes you break, he still knows of course, knows every single spot and every single way to make you crumble and submit to him. "I'm gonna cum, Si..." You whisper breathlessly, hands shaking around Simon's arm weakly.

Simon doesn't say anything except give you a cruel chuckle when he waits for the perfect time, just when you're about to cum to take his fingers out and it makes you shoot him a nasty glare. "Why did you do that?!" You whined, but your voice weakens at the sight of the hard bulge under his pants.

"Don't want you cummin' on anything but my cock tonight, love..." he chuckles dangerously, sitting on his knees to unbuckle his pants. He looks down at you with a hunger in his eyes, licking his lips as he finally rolls the zipper down. "C'mon, don't just stare" He smirks, snapping you out of your trance. "Right..." you blink, moving closer to him.

"Good..." he praises as he watches you tug his pants and boxers down together and tossing it down the side of the bed. "Fuck..." He hisses when he's finally free, his dick rock hard and heavy, twitching as beads of precum roll down from the tip. Your breathing quickens when you see it, it's bigger than you remember, thick and running with veins you wish you could memorize.

"On your back..." Simon commands, his voice low as he wraps a hand around his shaft to stroke his dick slowly. "But..." you look into his eyes but he shakes his head with a mean smirk when he looks at you. "As much as I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours, that's gonna have to wait another time" He chuckles, pushing you down on your back by your shoulder.

"I need t'fuck you, baby... Need t'feel you 'round my dick again..." he growls, watching the way your face is flushed and your legs are spread out on either side of his torso. He strokes his dick in his hands as he hums, using his free hand to slide your shorts and panties over your legs, throwing it with his pants.

"Fuckin' hell..." he groans when his eyes finally see your bare pussy, your clit twitching and your entrance clenching around nothing. It makes him fist his cock harder as he runs his free hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and rolling it down in little circles.

"Stop teasing..." you say through gritted teeth as one of your hands grip the sheets under you and the other pressed against Simon's chest. "M'not teasing" He chuckles, tapping his dick on your clit a few times. "Just shut up and fuck me already, Simon..." You whine, slapping his chest pathetically.

"Gettin' feisty now, eh?" he laughs lowly as a low satisfied rumble comes from deep in his throat when he grinds his cock against your pussy, letting it catch your slick. "Need to take it slow, love... I don't wanna hurt you" Simon groans, aligning his tip with your entrance.

"Oh... god-" you breathe out matched with a long moan from Simon as pushes the tip in. It makes a lewd, sort of wet sound when he enters you. It makes your head spin in the way it makes Simon throw his head back as he pushes deeper until he's completely inside you with a hard thrust.

He rolls his thumb over your clit, waiting for your breath to steady. "Doin' so good, baby... Taking me so well..." He coos, pressing on your clit as his eyes narrow on the sight of your body, all hot just for him. "M-move, Si..." You whimper out, closing your eyes tightly and adjusting to the feel of Simon inside you again after so long.

Simon hums while he rolled his hips, slowly thrusting his cock in and out. It's slow so he can let you adjust, help you remember how good he stretches you out that it makes you all dumb and pliable for him. "Mmm, yeah... Feels so good, love" he grunts, his hips moving just a tad bit faster.

He thrusts all the way to the hilt every single time, and it feels like he goes deeper and deeper with every thrust he gives you. He squeezes at your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he parts your legs even more, putting you in a mating press.

It makes you whimper the way you're starting to feel the slight pain of Simon's body pressed right into you. He's like an animal now, fucking you in such a primal way when he growls in your ear, encouraged by the delicious moans you give him and how you squirm and say his name in your breathy, fucked out voice.

"That's it, taking me like such a good fuckin' girl" He chuckles, driving his hips harder, the sound of his skin slapping against your cunt almost drives you crazy. He leans up, letting your legs rest as he massages them gently, a sharp juxtaposition from how hard he's fucking your weeping cunt.

"Needed this so bad, baby..." He groans, pulling your legs around his torso as he leans down to kiss at your neck. You can hear him mumbling sweet little nothings in your ear as his hands grip at your thighs and the soft skin of your waist.

"Tell me y'missed me... I wanna hear it" He mumbles against your neck, moaning lowly. He sounded so calm and so gentle yet the way his cock was filling you up and stretching you out so good was far from gentle. "Tell me y'missed this dick, baby, c'mon..." He hums, his hand travelling up to play with your tits.

"I-I mis-" You started, but the way Simon was fucking you so good made your head spin you couldn't even string a proper sentence together. He laughed, grazing his teeth over the skin of your shoulder, "Awe can't even speak anymore?" He teases, slowing his hips down and it makes you groan in disapproval.

"Why'd you slow down..." you whine, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. "Wanna hear you say you missed me first" He chuckled. It was bad enough that he slowed down, but it's even worse when he pulls out and looks down at you with a cruel smirk, stroking the cock that was supposed to be making you cum.

"Tell me how bad you missed me, baby, you can do it" He laughs lowly and he doesn't look away from you as he fists his cock to the look of pleasure on your face.

"I-I missed you Simon, so much-" you moaned out desperately as your pussy clenched on nothing. You were ready to beg for his cock again if he needed you to but you didn't have to worry for long when he turned you around, stuffing your pussy with his fat cock from behind.

"Good girl... Such a good fuckin' girl, aren't ya?" His words are so dirty it makes you tighten around him with a stifled moan as he fucks you fast and deep, not giving you a chance to adjust to the new angle he's pounding you in.

You can't respond and all you can even do is moan and take Simon's hard dick stuffing you over and over again. It doesn't take long for you to feel that tight knot forming in your stomach and Simon can feel it too from the way you're starting to tighten around him.

"Gonna cum, baby?" He asks you with a drawn out hum as he kneads your ass, watching the way it jiggles with every thrust.

You nod, moaning into your pillows as you clawed at the sheets. "Cum for me then... Cum on my dick..." He coos, pushing your hips down to give himself a better view of your ass. Your arms give out and you're practically being fucked into the bed.

Simon chuckles, taking your wrists and pulling them towards him suddenly. It makes you gasp when you feel the pressure building in your shoulders when Simon tightens his grip on your wrists.

"Si... M'close..." Your voice comes out choked out and broken, spiking up every time he bullies his cock harshly inside you and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Don't need to tell me baby, just cum f'me..." He mutters breathlessly, now holding your wrists behind your back with one hand as the other lands a harsh slap to your ass, making you whimper.

You gasp as tears rolled down your cheeks from how overwhelmed you were. "Simon... Simon..." your voice shakes as you struggle against his grip on your wrists. "Do it baby, cum for me..." He hums, giving your ass a loving squeeze.

You dig your nails into the sheets when you finally feel that knot in your stomach unravel, you feel tingly all over as you cum on Simon's cock with a loud moan of his name. It makes you whine when he doesn't stop, chasing his orgasm now when he feels your pussy tighten around him so good.

"Fuck baby... That's it, that's it..." His groan turns into a drawn out moan as he throws his head back. With the way you were clenching down on him, it made him sloppy.

Simon was sounding whiny now while he chased his high. His hands were squeezing your hips as he held you down and fucked you harder into the bed. He was babbling now, about how good you felt and how you were such a good girl. All for him.

"Feel's so good, lovie... Let me cum inside, please?" He whined through gritted teeth, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. "Please let me cum inside? Please, baby... Please..." He moans into your skin desperately, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.

"Yes... Yes, inside..." You nod desperately, feeling overstimulated after just coming down from your high and now being used by Simon to chase his own climax.

"Oh fuck..." His voice shakes as he cums inside you, painting your walls white with his cum as he gives you a few more hard thrusts to make sure you take all of it.

"Thank you, love... Thank you" he whispers after some time had passed, giving your hips an appreciative squeeze as he slowly pulled out of you. You whined when he finally pulled out, leaving you breathless as you felt his hot cum drip from your pussy to your clit.

"So beautiful..." Simon whispers as he lays beside you, pulling you close to him in a warm hug with your back against his chest. He wraps his arms around his waist and means his head down on your shoulder to give you gentle kisses.

"I love you..." He whispered close to your ear as his hands caressed your body soothingly. You hummed in content as you relaxed in his arms and allowed yourself to move a bit closer.

"I love you too..." You say quietly, rubbing his arms which were wrapped around you. Simon hums and kisses your hair, lingering there to take in your scent. "I won't leave again... I promise" he mumbles against your hair, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly.

You nod, looking over your shoulder to give him a warm smile, you were too tired and spent to talk but you knew Simon would be able to know what you were thinking just by looking into your eyes.

He chuckles and presses a soft kiss to your lips briefly. "And you know what's funny?" He laughed softly, raising a hand to caress your cheek, "It's Valentine's day" he looked over to the window and you followed his eyes.

The sun was starting to rise and it made you scoff that Simon really came back to you at the perfect timing.

"We're staying in, that's for sure" you laughed quietly, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as sleep slowly overtook you, but you didn't feel lonely anymore. Simon was back, and he knew he would never leave again.

[xvxni]

Hey 😊 would you do a Damon Salvatore imagine where you’re dating but then you leave the house after a fight with him and get in a bad car crash. He feels this and searches for you, just to find you I’m time to save your life. Then he stays by your side, feeling guilty and when you wake up again he’s there taking care of you, apologizes and promises to never let any harm happen to you again? Just some lovely fluff and a bit angsty. Thank you so much 😊

Apology

Summary: Your boyfriend Damon has been acting very possessive and controlling and you get into a huge fight with him. You go out for a drive to clear your head but end up in an accident instead. Damon finds you and takes you home, making up for everything he had done.

ANGST, fluff

Damon being controlling, car crash, reader having a near-death experience

1.5K

A/N: Thank you @imagine-all-the-fandoms for being my first request! I'm so sorry it took forever (this is horrible). Do let me know if this is satisfactory. Happy reading!

Damon Salvatore X Human!Fem!Reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Your boyfriend of two years, Damon, was recently being very controlling and possessive. He started making your decisions for you without bothering to consult you, being unreasonably jealous of any male around you and demanding to be with you at all times, not understanding the healthy concept of giving 'space'.

But this time, it ran deep. He compelled your childhood best friend, Jake, to leave town and forget all about you. You caught him in nick of time otherwise you would've never even known about what happened to him!

Deeply hurt and driven mad with rage, you left the Boarding House for a drive after a few broken objects, wounding words and a heavy heart.

You didn't know how, perhaps you weren't in your right senses, you couldn't hit the brakes and crashed right into a tree. The car flipped over, and your arms twisted at an odd angle. Your limp and now-sore body was fastened with the seat belt, and you couldn't undo it. You were hit badly in the back of your head, and you could feel unbearable burn of a deep gash.

Your senses had perked up under the stillness of the night, and you heard a faint trickle. Then wetness across your back, your head, soon trickling down to your neck. It was a strange fluid --- coppery metallic smell, thick and red with a mud-brownish tinge. It was oddly enticing and familiar. A shiver ran down your spine when you realised it was your blood. Blood, so much blood --- your own. You were losing so much blood, and you could do nothing to stop it. You felt faint and suddenly, the hardest thing in the world was staying conscious.

You were terrified. If you were going to die, then it mustn't be like this. An accident. Your whole life snatched away just because of a mistake. God, you had so many things to do in life. Get a job, travel the world, adopt a cat --- ordinary things but they were your dreams, which now lay shattered. You didn't want your life --- and death --- so unremarkable and ordinary. And while all this time, there was a deep wound of regret in your heart --- perhaps greater than the gash on your head --- to part with Damon.

Sure, he could be such an asshole at times, but you knew that he loves you with all his heart. You didn't want your last words to him be an angry "I hate you". You had never really thought about it, what would be your last words to him. You couldn't breathe at the sheer grief that hit you at the moment. Unable to withstand the blow, you closed your eyes, succumbing to a world of endless darkness, getting lost in your way towards the blue-eyed vampire. And you couldn't do a damn thing about it...

Anger and frustration clouded Damon's mind. It was all hazy, and he was searching for a light. Ah, there it is! Remorse, regret, fear of having losing her. He knew what he did was wrong, but why couldn't she understand? He loved her so damn much, everything he did was tp protect her.

She lived her constant danger because he loved her, and he knew at times that he should let her go, but he couldn't. He needed her to function, she was his damn sanity, and without her, he lost it.

Suddenly, there was this intense urge to go find her, not to waste a single moment. He'll do anything to have her back, she can't leave him. He knew he was unreasonable, ill-tempered and sometimes too controlling, but he couldn't help himself.

He got behind the steering wheel and let his heart lead the way, for it was with her where it truly lay.

He was aghast, devastated, even. Finding her like this, so near to death, he suddenly came to his senses. He was crying, he realised. He never cried. But that's what she does to him --- make him into someone he never thought he could be.

"Y/N, no! No, no, no!" he wailed, feeling utterly helpless. He undid your seatbelt and somehow pulled you out of the overturned car. Without wasting a moment, he bit into his wrist and forced his blood into your mouth.

You drank for a moment then turned away, trying to sit up but immediately fell back and the sheer exhaustion and soreness you felt.

He was here. He was here, you realised.

"Oh Damon, I'm so sorry!" you sobbed into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you and you knew he was crying into your shoulder.

You simply let things just be. In that dark night, the feeling of death heavy around you, the two of you embraced a new life. Of promises of forever, of understanding, of accepting --- and it was beautiful.

After what seemed like an eternity, he composed himself, giving you some strength, too. "Let's get you home, yeah?" he whispered and you nodded. He lifted you bridal style in his arms and helped you into his car. You leaned on him, as much as you could and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry..." he began but your shook your head. He understood. Not now.

You drove to the Boarding House in companionable silence. The silence was golden. The silence spoke it all. And all you needed was the silence.

With his help you went inside. The house that was so familiar --- it looked the same --- but it promised something different.

"You don't know how scared I was today," he whispered as he rubbed your feet.

"Me too... I didn't want to die like that. Not without saying goodbye, though I wonder if I ever will be able to say it-" he silenced you with a kiss. "I won't let anything happen to you. I want you all for myself, I know that's selfish. I am prick and I don't deserve you, but I do love you very much, so much that it's frustrating, and I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you. I know I make bad decisions, I know I react impulsively, but I do it only for you. I am sorry for today. I had no reason to compel Jake, but I did it anyway because I was insecure. I realised my mistake, I have no reason to be. So, if you have it in you, please forgive me...". Tears were streaming down his face.

You wiped them away and hugged him close.

"I'm hungry," you said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. It made him laugh. "Pasta?"

"Yes!"

[atimeofyourlife]

A family Thanksgiving

This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents

The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.

"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.

"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.

"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.

"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."

Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.

When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.

"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"

"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."

"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.

"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.

Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.

"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.

"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.

"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.

After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.

"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.

"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.

"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.

"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."

"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.

"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."

"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"

"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."

"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.

"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.

"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.

"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.

"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.

"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.

"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."

"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.

"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."

"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.

"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."

Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.

Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.

"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.

"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.

Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.

"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."

Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.

"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."

"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."

"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.

"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"

"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."

"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"

"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."

"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."

"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.

"But, mother-" His father started.

"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."

"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."

"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."

"Mother,"

"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."

Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.

"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.

"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."

"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."

"Grandma." Steve protested.

"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.

Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.

"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"

"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."

"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"

"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."

"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."

"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.

[lila-lou]

✨Paris - Pt. 3✨

Summary: The season 5 premiere of The Boys in Paris, which you were so excited about, became a dreaded event when you found out your difficult co-star Jensen Ackles would be there. Despite your best efforts to avoid him, Jensen's presence was present even at the post-premiere celebration. A few drinks too many led to a troubled night in your hotel room that left you torn and doubtful about your feelings.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut(slightly), language, cheating, fluff

Word Count: 6581

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The weeks passed, and no matter how hard you tried to push him out of your mind, Jensen’s presence lingered like a shadow. The guilt of what had transpired between you two gnawed at your conscience relentlessly. You hadn’t told Antony the truth about what happened with Jensen, but the weight of your secret made it impossible to look him in the eyes.

A week before filming was set to begin again, you finally broke up with Antony. The guilt and self-loathing had become unbearable, and every moment with him felt like a lie you couldn’t continue living. The look of hurt and confusion in his eyes as you ended things haunted you, adding another layer of regret to your already heavy heart.

You hated yourself for it. Every time you thought of Antony, you felt a wave of nausea and self-disgust. But amidst the turmoil, you couldn’t deny the growing realization that you were falling in love with Jensen. It was a painful and unwelcome truth, made even more complicated by your decision to distance yourself from him.

As the first day of filming approached, you tried to steel yourself for the inevitable encounter. You knew you’d have to see Jensen, work with him, and maintain a professional facade despite the emotions swirling inside you.

The day finally arrived, and you walked onto the set with a sense of dread. The familiar surroundings did little to calm your nerves as you prepared for the day’s scenes.

As you sat down in your chair, preparing for the day’s scenes, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The first scene was with both Antony and Jensen, and the tension was palpable. You felt another wave of nausea hit you, your stomach churning with guilt and anxiety.

Without a word, both Antony and Jensen sat down on either side of you. The atmosphere was thick with unresolved emotions, and you could feel their eyes on you, each for different reasons. Just then, you couldn’t hold back anymore. You bolted from your chair and stormed to the nearest toilet, barely making it before you started vomiting.

Back on set, Jensen watched you run off, his heart clenching painfully at the sight of your distress. But he masked his concern perfectly, maintaining his usual indifferent facade. “What’s up with her?”, he asked, playing dumb.

Antony, who had been trying to hold back his emotions, bit his tongue. His hurt had turned into a toxic mix of disappointment and anger over the past few days. “Don’t know, don’t care”, he grumbled, his voice tight. “She dumped me”.

Jensen was more than surprised by that revelation. In the back of his mind, he saw a tiny, tiny chance to maybe finally shoot his shot with you. Ever since that night, something had shifted in him. Initially, when you first met, he didn’t like you. He hated your easygoing nature and how everyone seemed to like you without you even trying. But what he hated most was that you didn’t give him the attention he was used to receiving from most other women.

As the scene was being prepared, Jensen’s thoughts kept drifting back to you. He couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of hope mixed with his guilt. Maybe now, with Antony out of the picture, he could finally explore the feelings that had been gnawing at him since that night in Paris.

“I’m sorry, man”, Jensen mumbled, glancing sideways at Antony.

Antony’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.

Just then, you returned to the set, your face pale and your movements stiff. You avoided looking at either of them, focusing instead on the script in your hand. The weight of their gazes was almost unbearable, but you steeled yourself, determined to get through the day.

The director called everyone to their places, and you took a deep breath, trying to push your personal turmoil aside. The scene was intense, with high emotions that you drew from your own pain and guilt. Antony’s anger was raw and palpable, adding an extra layer of realism to his performance. Jensen, too, channeled his mixed feelings into his role, creating a powerful and authentic dynamic on screen.

Between takes, you kept to yourself, finding a quiet corner to regroup. You felt Jensen’s presence nearby, but he didn’t approach you.

As it was lunchtime, you quickly made your way towards your trailer, hoping to find some solitude. But just as you reached the door, Jensen appeared behind you, gripping your wrist gently.

You snapped your wrist out of his grasp, your voice sharp. “Don’t touch me”.

Jensen quickly held up both hands in surrender, his expression earnest. “I’m sorry”, he said, his voice calm. “I just wanted to talk”.

You felt a mix of anger and exhaustion wash over you. “What do you want?”, you choked out, struggling to keep your emotions in check.

Jensen took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I heard you broke up with Antony. Is it true?”.

You looked away, the weight of his question making your chest tighten. “Yes”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t keep pretending. I hated myself for it”.

Jensen nodded slowly, processing your words. His expression was a mixture of concern and understanding, but you felt a surge of frustration bubble up inside you. You glared at him, your voice snapping with bitter sarcasm. “Go ahead, Jensen. Make all the fun you want about me. I know you must be loving this”.

He shook his head, his eyes softening as he took a step back, giving you more space. “That’s not what I want, Y/N”, he said quietly. “I never wanted to hurt you or make fun of you. I’m just trying to understand”.

Your anger flared again, a defensive shield against the vulnerability you felt. “Understand what? That I’m a terrible person? That I couldn’t even be honest with Antony until it was too late? You were right about me all along, Jensen. I’m a fucking mess”.

Jensen’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth opening to respond, but before he could get a word out, you stepped inside your trailer and slammed the door shut in his face. The loud bang echoed in the small space, and you leaned against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

You could hear Jensen’s muffled voice through the door, but you couldn’t make out the words. You didn’t want to. All you wanted was to escape the whirlwind of emotions that had been building inside you for weeks.

Inside the trailer, the silence was overwhelming. You sank to the floor, pressing your back against the door, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you. Tears streamed down your face, and you buried your head in your hands, trying to stifle the sobs that wracked your body.

For a few moments, you let yourself cry, allowing the pain and guilt to pour out. It felt like an eternity, but eventually, the tears slowed, and you were left with a dull, aching emptiness.

You stood up, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, and took a deep breath. You knew you couldn’t avoid Jensen forever, and you couldn’t keep running from your feelings. But for now, you needed space, and you needed time to figure out what to do next.

The rest of the lunch break passed in a haze. You didn’t eat, your appetite completely gone. Instead, you spent the time trying to regain some semblance of composure, knowing you still had to get through the rest of the day on set.

When you finally emerged from your trailer, Jensen was gone. You felt a mix of relief and disappointment, but you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the task at hand.

The afternoon’s filming was grueling, the emotional scenes taking their toll on you. Antony was distant and professional, his hurt and anger clear but controlled. Jensen was careful, his interactions with you restrained, but his concern was still evident in his eyes.

By the time the director called it a wrap for the day, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. You gathered your things quickly, eager to escape the set and find some solitude.

As you walked to your car, you felt a presence behind you. You turned to see Jensen, standing a few feet away, his expression a mixture of worry and determination.

“Y/N”, he called out softly, taking a hesitant step forward. “Can we please talk?”.

You whipped around, your frustration and exhaustion boiling over. “Don’t you get it, Jensen? I don’t want to talk!”, you yelled, your voice echoing in the parking lot. “Ever since you came into my fucking life, it’s been a mess!”.

Jensen flinched at your words, but he didn’t back down. “I know things have been complicated”, he began, trying to keep his voice calm, “but running away from this isn’t going to help either of us”.

“Complicated?”, you scoffed, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “That’s an understatement! You’ve turned everything upside down. I can’t even think straight anymore!”.

Jensen took another step closer, his eyes pleading. “Y/N, I never meant for things to get this bad. But I can’t just stand by and watch you suffer. I care about you”.

“Stop saying that!”, you shouted, tears welling up in your eyes again. “Stop pretending like you care! Maybe for you, fucking me was all fun with your nice little arrangement with your wife, but for me, it screwed up everything! It destroyed my relationship with Antony. And all those twisted signals you gave me—first hating me, then sleeping with me, and now pretending to care—what kind of fucked-up game are you playing?”.

Jensen looked taken aback, his face pale. He took another step closer. “It’s not a game, Y/N. I know I’ve messed up, but I never meant to hurt you like this. My marriage… it’s complicated. It’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. And I’m not playing with you. I’m trying to be honest about how I feel”.

You shook your head, your anger flaring again. “Honest? You call this honest? You didn’t care about the consequences. You didn’t care about what would happen to me, to Antony, to anyone. Is your life so boring that you need to mess with other people’s lives now?”.

Jensen’s face hardened, a flash of anger crossing his features. “I know I’ve made mistakes, but don’t you dare say I don’t care. You have no idea what’s been going on in my head!".

His voice rose, the frustration and pain clear in his words. “You turned my fucking head, Y/N. Ever since that night in Paris, I can’t get you out of my mind. It’s like you’re in my head 24/7, and it’s driving me crazy. I tried to hate you because it was easier than admitting how I really felt, but I can’t do it anymore”.

Before you could respond, you heard footsteps approaching. Antony had been on his way to his car, but he stopped short when he heard Jensen’s outburst. His face was a mask of shock and hurt, the realization of what had happened between you and Jensen clear in his eyes.

“Did you and Jensen…?”, Antony asked, his voice tight with emotion.

You turned to face him, your heart sinking. “Antony, I…”.

He shook his head, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment. “I thought you broke up with me because you needed time to figure things out. I never imagined it was because of him”.

Jensen stepped forward, his own anger giving way to regret. “Antony, I’m sorry. None of this was supposed to happen. It was just a stupid mistake”.

Antony looked between the two of you, his jaw clenched. “A mistake? Is that what you call it?”.

The weight of his words hit you hard, and you felt tears welling up again. “Antony, I never meant to hurt you. I was confused, and I didn’t handle things the way I should have”.

“I trusted you, Y/N. I thought we had something real… And you”, he turned to Jensen, his voice filled with anger, “I thought you were my fucking friend”.

Jensen bowed his head, his guilt evident. “I’m sorry, man. I messed up”.

Antony took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “I can’t fucking deal with this right now”.

He turned and walked away, leaving you and Jensen standing there in the silence of the parking lot. You felt a crushing sense of loss and guilt.

Jensen turned towards you, his mouth opening to say something, but you just shook your head, tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t bear to hear any more. You quickly got into your car, slamming the door shut and driving away, leaving Jensen standing alone in the parking lot.

The drive home was a blur, your mind replaying the confrontation over and over. Once you reached your apartment, you barely managed to make it to your bed before collapsing into a heap of tears and self-loathing. The guilt and shame of your actions pressed down on you like a heavy weight, making it hard to breathe.

You spent the rest of the evening curled up in bed, hating yourself for what you did to Antony. But no matter how much you tried to focus on your regret, Jensen’s words kept echoing in your mind. “You turned my fucking head, Y/N… Ever since that night in Paris, I can’t get you out of my mind… I’m trying to be honest about how I feel”.

What did he mean by that? What were his true feelings? You couldn’t stop thinking about the intensity in his eyes, the raw emotion in his voice. Was it possible that he genuinely cared about you? Or was he just trying to assuage his own guilt?

As the hours ticked by, you found it impossible to sleep. Jensen’s confession had thrown everything into disarray. Despite the pain and confusion, a part of you couldn’t deny that you had feelings for him. But those feelings were tangled up with anger, betrayal, and a deep sense of confusion.

You thought about how everything had started: the initial animosity, the unexpected night in Paris, the mixed signals and growing tension. It all seemed so surreal now. You had tried to hate him, to push him out of your mind, but it was clear that he had gotten under your skin in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

The next day, when you arrived on set, you looked like shit. Your eyes were puffy and red from a night of restless tossing and turning, and your skin was pale and drawn. The exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, making every step feel like a monumental effort.

As soon as you stepped onto the set, Kripke, noticed your disheveled appearance. “Hey, Y/N, are you okay?”, he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

You forced a weak smile, trying to brush off his worry. “Just didn’t sleep well”, you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Kripke frowned but nodded, respecting your privacy. “Alright, but if you need anything, let me know”.

You nodded and made your way to the makeup trailer, hoping to find a moment of solitude. Ironically, the first thing you saw upon entering was Jensen, sitting in one of the chairs, his stylist already working on him.

He glanced up as you walked in, his expression immediately softening with concern. “Y/N…”, he started, but you quickly looked away, not ready for another confrontation.

You took a seat in the chair next to his, trying to focus on the makeup artist who began working on your tired features. The silence between you and Jensen was thick with unspoken words, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you kept your gaze firmly on your reflection in the mirror.

The makeup artist worked diligently, trying to mask the evidence of your sleepless night. You were grateful for the silence, but the tension was palpable. Finally, Jensen spoke, his voice low and hesitant. “Did you get any rest at all?”.

You sighed, your eyes flicking to his reflection in the mirror. “Not really”, you admitted, your voice flat.

Jensen’s stylist finished up, and he stood, his eyes never leaving you. “Y/N, we need to talk. We can’t keep avoiding this”.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Not here, Jensen. Not now”.

He nodded, respecting your wishes but not backing down. “Alright. But soon”.

You gave a slight nod, turning your attention back to the makeup artist. As Jensen left the trailer, you felt a pang of something—regret, guilt, maybe even longing. The confusion of your feelings was overwhelming, and you knew you couldn’t continue like this.

The day’s filming was a blur, your exhaustion making it hard to concentrate. Antony was professional but distant, his interactions with you cold and detached. You could feel the weight of his disappointment, and it only added to your guilt.

During a break, you found a quiet corner on set and sat down, burying your face in your hands. The tears you had been holding back all day finally spilled over, and you let yourself cry, the weight of everything crashing down on you.

A few moments later, you felt a presence beside you. You looked up to see Jensen, his expression one of deep concern. Without a word, he sat down next to you, offering silent support.

A few moments later, you felt a presence beside you. You looked up to see Jensen, his expression one of deep concern. Without a word, he sat down next to you, offering silent support.

After a while, he spoke up, his voice gentle. “Do you love him?”.

You took a while to respond, continuing to sob quietly as you tried to sort through your tangled emotions. Finally, you shook your head, whispering, “I thought I did… he’s so kind and caring. And… I don’t know… maybe I had wished I would love him—I… I just don’t know anymore”.

Jensen reached out, hesitantly placing a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to be confused, Y/N. Feelings aren’t always straightforward”.

You sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “But it’s not fair to him. I hurt him so much, and he didn’t deserve any of it. And you… I don’t even know what to think about you".

Jensen chuckled bitterly, running his palm over his face. “Yeah, I know this feeling”, he mumbled, the weight of his own emotions evident in his voice. He looked at you, his gaze intense and filled with a depth that made your heart ache. It was clear he felt the same about you, the unspoken connection between you both palpable.

“I’ve been trying to sort through my feelings too”, he admitted, his voice softer now. “It’s been a mess, and I know I’ve made things harder for you. But- I ldon´t hate you. I-".

You met his gaze, your heart pounding. “Jensen, I don’t know if I can handle this. Everything is so complicated. I don’t even know where to start”.

He nodded, his expression earnest. “I get it. And I’m not asking for you to make any decisions right now. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. We can take things one step at a time, figure it out together”.

The sincerity in his voice gave you a glimmer of hope, but the fear and confusion still lingered. “I appreciate that, Jensen. But I need time to process everything, to figure out what I really want”.

“I understand”, he said, his hand still gently resting on your shoulder. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk”.

You nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension.

As you sat there together, the silence between you was no longer filled with tension but with a tentative understanding. It wasn’t a resolution, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

Two weeks passed, and true to his word, Jensen gave you the space you had asked for. You spoke only when necessary for your job, maintaining a professional distance. The tension between you still existed, but it was bearable, and you appreciated his respect for your boundaries.

Today was different, though. Today was the first spicy scene between your character and Jensen’s. It was a significant moment in the show, and a few of your colleagues had gathered to witness it, adding to your nerves. The weight of the scene and the unresolved emotions between you and Jensen made the situation even more daunting.

As you sat in your trailer, trying to steady your breathing and mentally prepare for the scene, there was a knock at the door. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing instinctively who it was. You took a deep breath and opened the door to find Jensen standing there, his expression serious but kind.

“Hey”, he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of concern and determination. “I just wanted to check on you before we start. I know this isn’t easy for you”.

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands.

“I’m really nervous", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his expression gentle and reassuring. “I get that. It’s a vulnerable position to be in".

You looked up at him, meeting his steady gaze. “It’s just… with everything that’s happened, it feels even more complicated”.

Jensen nodded, understanding. “I know. But we’re professionals, and we can separate our personal feelings from the work we need to do. You’re an amazing actress, Y/N, and I trust you completely. Trust me too, okay?”.

You took a deep breath, feeling slightly more at ease. “Okay. Thanks, Jensen”.

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with sincerity. “Hey, if it helps, just remember that I’ve seen you in way more intimate positions and a lot more of your body”, he joked lightly, trying to ease the tension.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Yeah, I guess you have a point”.

Jensen’s smile widened, the teasing glint in his eyes reassuring. “We’ve got this. Let’s go out there and do what we do best”.

You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, and together, you headed to the set.

As you walked, the gravity of the upcoming scene weighed on you. This was an intimate moment that would require vulnerability and trust—both in your acting partner and in yourself. The set was bustling with activity, crew members adjusting lights and cameras, the director giving last-minute instructions. You could feel the eyes of your colleagues on you, but you focused on Jensen’s presence beside you, grounding you.

Once you reached your mark, the assistant director called for quiet on set. The chatter ceased, and an expectant hush fell over the room. You slipped off your coat, handing it to a wardrobe assistant, and stood in your designated spot. You were almost completely exposed, with only the small patch covering your intimate area. The cool air brushed against your skin, and you shivered slightly, both from the temperature and the anticipation.

Jensen took his place opposite you, his eyes locking onto yours. The intensity in his gaze was palpable. The director stepped forward, giving you both a few final notes on the scene’s emotional beats and physical choreography. You nodded, absorbing his words, and took another deep breath.

“Alright, everyone. Positions!”, the director called out, his voice echoing through the set. The clapperboard snapped shut, signaling the start of the scene. “And… action!”.

You felt the shift immediately as you slipped into character. The world around you faded, leaving just you and Jensen in a bubble of shared emotion. The script had called for a charged moment of intimacy, where your characters finally gave in to their long-simmering attraction. It was a pivotal scene, and you needed to convey every nuance of longing, vulnerability, and desire.

Jensen’s character, Soldier Boy, stepped closer. His hands found your shoulders, his grip firm but not painful, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

You looked up at him, your character’s defiance mixed with vulnerability. “I needed you”.

The line hung in the air, the weight of it settling between you. Soldier Boy’s expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost tender crossing his face before he tightened his grip, pulling you closer.

“Need me?”, he repeated, his voice a rough whisper. “You don’t even know what you’re fucking asking for”.

With a swift movement, he pushed you against the wall, his body pressing into yours. The heat of him was overwhelming, and you could feel the hard lines of his muscles against your bare skin. His hands roamed your sides, exploring the curve of your waist and hips with a possessive urgency.

You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Show me”, you challenged, your voice breathless but resolute. “Show me what I’ve been missing”.

Soldier Boy’s eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You asked for it”, he growled before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. The kiss was fierce and demanding, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored the desperation of your characters. His hands slid up your sides, fingers tracing the outline of your ribs before he cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

The sensation was electric, your body arching into his touch as a moan escaped your lips. The script had called for a heated moment, and the intensity of Jensen’s touch made it easy to lose yourself in the scene. You responded with equal fervor, your hands sliding under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his chest and the warmth of his skin.

Soldier Boy broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear. “You think you can handle this?”, he murmured, his voice a mix of mockery and desire. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands moved lower, gripping your thighs and lifting you effortlessly, pressing you harder against the wall.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, the patch between your legs doing little to shield you from the heat and hardness of him. “I can handle more than you think”, you whispered back, your voice filled with both challenge and invitation.

He growled in response, his hands gripped your hips, pulling you tighter against him, the friction between you driving you both to the brink.

The dialogue continued, raw and intense, each line delivered with a mix of passion and desperation that made the scene feel achingly real. “I’ve wanted this for so long”, you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion. “You have no idea what you do to me”.

Soldier Boy’s eyes met yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea”, he replied, his voice rough and ragged. “And I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name”.

Soldier Boy pulled down his pants, revealing the protective sock Jensen wore to maintain some modesty. The intention behind the scene was to be intense, and the physicality between you needed to reflect that raw, primal energy. Jensen’s erection was a surprise, a real-world complication in an otherwise carefully choreographed moment.

As he, pressed closer, his hands gripping your hips with a fierce possessiveness. The heat between you was almost unbearable, and the scripted intensity began to blur with reality.

“You’re going to beg for me”, Soldier Boy growled, his voice a rough whisper. He adjusted his position, his hands guiding you to the exact angle needed. With a swift, practiced movement, he simulated thrusting into you, the action almost too real in its intensity. The protective patches between you both did little to dampen the force of the movement, and the friction sent a shockwave of sensation through your body.

Your legs tightened around his waist, your nails digging into his shoulders as you held on. The raw energy of the scene was electrifying, each motion building the tension to a fever pitch. You gasped, letting out a moan that was both part of the character and an involuntary response to the real heat between you.

“Fuck, Soldier Boy”, you whispered, the line delivered with a mix of challenge and submission. The intensity in Jensen’s eyes never wavered, and he pushed the scene further, his movements precise and powerful.

The scripted lines continued, blending with the real emotions simmering beneath the surface. “You like that?”, Soldier Boy taunted, his breath hot against your neck. His hips thrust again, the action deliberate and commanding.

“Yes”, you moaned, your voice breathless and filled with a mix of defiance and desire.

The choreography called for a series of movements that simulated a relentless pace, each thrust driving the characters closer to their breaking points. The physicality was demanding, and you felt your body responding to the rhythm, the heat between you almost overwhelming.

Jensen’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he maintained the intensity. “You’re mine”, Soldier Boy growled, his voice low and possessive. The line was delivered with such conviction that it sent a shiver down your spine.

The scene continued, each movement choreographed to build the tension to a climax. The raw passion between your characters was palpable, the line between acting and reality blurring more and more in the heat of the moment. When the director finally called cut, the set erupted in applause, the crew impressed with the intensity and authenticity of the performance.

Jensen pulled back, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his eyes still dark with the lingering intensity of the scene. You felt the same, your body trembling from the physical and emotional exertion.

“Are you okay?”, Jensen asked, his voice gentle as he helped you regain your footing.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah, I’m okay. That was… intense”.

Jensen handed you your robe, quickly pulling it over you while doing the same with his own robe, trying his best to hide his erection. Just then, Kripke approached, followed by Karl.

“That was phenomenal, both of you”, Kripke praised, clapping his hands. “Exactly the kind of raw energy we needed”.

Karl chuckled, giving you both a nod of approval. “You two really brought it”.

Kripke turned towards Jensen, a playful glint in his eye. “Man, if I’d known you could rock those scenes like that, Dean would have laid so many more women”, he joked, referring to Jensen’s character on Supernatural.

Jensen laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, Dean didn’t exactly have the best luck with the ladies”.

Kripke continued to praise your performance. “Seriously, though, the chemistry was off the charts. This scene is going to be a standout moment in the season”.

You felt a mixture of pride and relief, the tension of the scene finally easing. Jensen gave you a warm smile, his eyes conveying a silent thank you for trusting him in such a vulnerable moment.

Karl clapped Jensen on the back, a broad grin on his face. “Better not let Danneel see this scene, mate”, he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Jensen chuckled uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair again. “Yeah”, he replied, his tone light but with an edge of nervousness.

With that, the crew reset for the next angles. The following takes were more focused on specific details and reactions, allowing the intensity of the earlier scene to ease somewhat. The physical closeness was still required, but the emotional weight was lessened by the familiarity of repeating the same actions.

You and Jensen moved through the choreography with practiced precision, the initial nerves replaced by a professional rhythm. The pieces being filmed now were less intense, focusing on close-ups and specific shots that would be edited together later.

As you worked, you could feel the lingering effects of the earlier scene—the adrenaline, the heightened emotions—but there was also a sense of accomplishment. Despite everything, you had managed to deliver a powerful performance.

Between takes, you and Jensen exchanged occasional glances, a silent acknowledgment of the shared experience. There was still so much unresolved between you, but for now, you had found a way to work together, to channel your complex emotions into something meaningful for the show.

As the two of you finally wrapped up the shoot, you finished a brief conversation with the sound crew. You felt a sense of relief that the day’s intense filming was over, though the unresolved tension between you and Jensen still lingered in the back of your mind.

As you turned to head back to your trailer, you saw Jensen approaching, his expression serious yet kind.

“Hey”, he began, his voice gentle but firm. “Can we talk for a minute?”.

You hesitated, but you nodded, knowing that avoiding the conversation would only prolong the inevitable.

“Sure”, you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Shoot”.

Jensen glanced around, noticing the few lingering crew members. “Let’s go somewhere a bit more private”, he suggested.

You agreed, and the two of you walked towards Jensens trailer.

As you stepped into Jensen’s trailer, the atmosphere felt surprisingly intimate, a stark contrast to the bustling set outside. You took a seat on the couch, feeling the tension in the air. Jensen sat down opposite you.

For a moment, there was a heavy silence, both of you unsure where to begin. Finally, Jensen took a deep breath and broke the silence.

“Have you thought about everything?”, he asked, his voice soft but filled with the weight of the question.

You looked down at your hands, which were nervously twisting in your lap. “Yeah”, you replied quietly. “I’ve thought about it a lot”.

Jensen leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “And? What have you decided?”.

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts. “It’s still complicated, Jensen. I can’t just turn off my feelings, but I also can’t ignore what happened. I hurt Antony, and I’ve been hurting myself by not dealing with everything”.

He nodded, understanding. “I know, and I’m sorry for my part in all of this. I didn’t handle things the way I should have, and I regret that”.

You appreciated his honesty, but the confusion in your heart remained. “It’s not just about regrets. It’s about figuring out what we want moving forward. Can we really work together without letting our personal lives interfere? And if we do have feelings for each other, what does that mean for us?”.

Jensen leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve asked myself those same questions. I don’t have all the answers, but I do know that I care about you. And I want to find a way to make this work, both professionally and personally”.

He paused, his expression becoming more serious. “I need to tell you something, though. I actually filed for divorce a few weeks ago… Maybe that helps with your decision”.

You looked at him, surprised by the revelation. “But not because of what happened between us, right?”, you asked carefully, needing to understand the full context.

Jensen shook his head. “No, it’s not because of that. Things between Danneel and me have been strained for a long time. We’ve been trying to make it work for years, but it became clear that staying together wasn’t the best for either of us. What happened between us, it just made me realize that I couldn’t keep living a lie. I needed to be honest with myself and with her”.

You absorbed his words, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Jensen. Divorce is never easy”.

He nodded, a sad smile on his face. “It’s not, but sometimes it’s necessary. And I think it’s the right decision for both of us. But I don’t want you to feel like you were the cause of it. This was a long time coming”.

You felt a bit more at ease, but the weight of the situation still pressed on you. “Thank you for telling me. It helps to understand where you’re coming from”.

Jensen leaned forward again, his eyes earnest. “I want to move forward, but only if you’re comfortable with it. We can take it slow, one step at a time, and see where it goes. No pressure, no expectations. Just honesty and figuring things out together”.

You were quiet for a while, processing everything Jensen had just shared. The weight of the situation still hung heavy, but there was a sense of clarity in his words. You knew you had fallen for Jensen, harder than you’d ever expected. Now, without the complications of cheating or secrets, it was just you and Jensen.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “I care about you too, Jensen”, you admitted softly. “I never wanted things to get so messy, but they did. And now, we have a chance to do this right”.

Jensen’s eyes softened, a hint of relief washing over his face. “We do”, he agreed. “And I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make this work. One step at a time, like I said”.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “One step at a time”.

The room felt lighter, the tension easing as you both allowed yourselves to consider a future together. It wasn’t going to be easy, and there would be challenges ahead, but the honesty between you was a solid foundation to build on.

Jensen reached out, taking your hand in his. His touch was warm and reassuring, grounding you in the moment. “Let’s start with dinner tonight”, he suggested. “Nothing fancy, just the two of us, somewhere quiet. We can talk more, get to know each other better outside of all this".

You felt a flutter of excitement mixed with nerves. “That sounds nice”. you replied, squeezing his hand gently.

Jensen smiled, his eyes twinkling with hope. “Great. It’s a date, then".

———————————

A/N: THAT IT.... THE END!

Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @spnfamily-j2 @cheynovak @anacarolinadasf @winchesterwild78

[moon-child-goddess]

Whispers of Regret

Pairings:  Druig X Reader (Fem) 

Summary: Druig says something he wishes he could take back.

Warnings: I used Fem pronouns, Angst, mention of name calling, some language, groveling.

Author's note: I wrote this in a hour and it’s 2 am so I will come back and edit later. I just feel bad that I abandoned you all.

Druigs blood ran cold through his veins as soon as he realized what he had said out loud. The words had tumbled out of his mouth before his brain could register them. He was tired and exhausted from all the missions he had lately. It was no excuse, and he knew it.

Y/N’s body tensed a low gasp escaping her lips. The smile she had plastered on earlier fell. Never in a thousand years would she have expected him to be so cruel. A burning sensation formed behind her eyelids as she fought off tears. She refused to cry in front of him, not in here in this crowd either. Besides Druig didn’t deserve those tears.

The words bounced around in her mind as she took a deep breath. She was at a loss of what to do. She wouldn’t cause a scene at Tonys charity gala. Y/N’s nostrils flared as she began to lose some of her resolve.  She downed the rest of the champagne in her glass.

How dare he speak to her like that. All she wanted to do was make the gala easy on Druig so he could relax and enjoy his time. But he wanted to call her worthless and a bitch?

Druig ran a hand over his face mumbling her name, but cut himself off at the glare she sent him.  It was so full of anger. An anger he had never seen directed at him. He wanted to fix this. He had to fix it.  There was a twitch in his hand as he moved to reach out to her. But he stopped, because she hated being touched when she was feeling big emotions like anger. She liked her space so she could think and control herself.

“Darling please, I am sorry.” The words were barely spoken above a whisper almost drowned out by the lively chatter of other guests.

Y/N shook her head some strands falling out of her up do. She needed to get out of there. This event was not theirs to ruin. Home was somewhere she could be alone, and a walk would cool her down. Maybe even pick up some greasy food truck tacos.

A tsunami of panic washed through Druig as he watched her briskly walk away towards the doors. Druig took off after Y/N trying to match her pace, but his long strides couldn’t match her speed. Even in her heels she was fast. He had to fix this.

An older women stopped the girl.  In a millisecond Y/N’s frown tuned into her effortless smile. Hiding any emotion but happiness. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as the blue-eyed man come closer.

“Please excuse me. I am not feeling well and was going to head home.” Y/N explained, before slipping through the doors.

“Y/N- Y/N please.” The words came out as a plea he knew she would ignore. Which she did and kept putting distance between them.

Druig cursed himself. He knew he was stupid and there was no excuse for taking his cranky anger out on her. He never should have uttered those words to her. And now he couldn’t take them back. They would always echo in the back of her mind if he could fix this, and that terrified him.  

An instant regret hit her as a shiver ran through here. She regretted the decision not to pick up her coat.   But it would have given him enough time to catch up to her.  Her steps were in the opposite direction of their home. She opted to take the long way, so she could get some greasy food truck tacos. Her comfort food. It was also time to avoid the man behind her.

“Darling. Please get in the car. Let me get you home safely.”  His words were hard to understand against the sounds of traffic.  

“No.” there was nothing behind the words. They were just dry. Not a hint of anger or sadness just empty. Druig winced there was going to be a lot of groveling and he would do whatever needed to fix this.

“I will say nothing and act like your Uber driver then leave.” It was late and cold. A bad combination in New York.

“No.”  She crossed the road not bothering to look both ways. Her hope was that he would get cut off by a car giving her more space to disappear.

“Why not?” He knew why. He just was at a loss on what to do.  She was going to catch a cold in her strapless dress.

“Because I am mad at you.” She called out against the sound of a car horn. Behind the wheel was a man annoyed that she was taking forever to cross.

The noise made her blood boil a little more. She wanted to stop and scream at the driver to come dodge potholes in a pencil heel, and she would honk at him. But she continued straight.

Druig however, turned and glared at the driver before flipping them off. Gold flashed through his eyes for the briefest second. He wanted to make them apologize to her and grovel. But he was the one who needed to apologize and… well grovel. The time he took to stop gave her more than enough time to slip away into a group of tourists.

It was loud and the lights were making it hard for him to find her. He frantically searched through the crowd of people. A few of them cursing him as he pushed through them. As he was about to give up and use his powers, he caught a glimpse of her silk dress.

“Darling Please let me make sure you get home safe.” His accent made her flinch.  She didn’t believe he would have found her that quickly. She thought for sure she was going to find him sitting in front of their door.  

“Stop please. I need to think. I beg you to please let me be.” The pleading in her tone broke him. He knew he had messed up and that the least he could do was respect her wishes.  

“Ok. Call me if you need a ride. I will pick you up.”. Before turning to walk away he reached out wanting to touch her to remind her that he loved her. But shook his head and gave her the space she wanted.

The food truck she had her sights on was just a few more blocks away. That was her plan food, some tears then she will face the issue at hand.

-----

Once she made it to their apartment Druig was sitting by the front door. He looked defeated. His hair was a mess, the tie he wore was loosened. She was almost certain he had cried. It was funny though because she still couldn’t bring herself to cry. She was just angry, the kind that made you feel numb. Right now all she carved was her bed.

Without saying a word, she dropped the container of food she bought for him at his feet.  She knew he hadn’t eaten and as livid as she was, she still cared about his well-being.

“Y/N?” His voice was thick and caught in his throat.

“I just want to go to bed.” She turned the key; the sound of the deadbolt was loud in the brief moment of silence. “We will talk in the morning.”

“OK. I will sleep in the guestroom then.”  

“No.” She never could sleep well when he was gone. There would be a pillow barrier, but she wanted him there.  

“Sleep in our room. Just don’t- don’t touch me. I still need my space right now. I am angry and haven’t come to terms with it yet.”

“I am very-“ Y/N cut him off. Apologies weren’t going to fix this. She wanted him to take back the words, but even if he did, they would be an echo in the back of her mind.

“I swear if you say sorry one more time I will leave.”

She walked to their room in the dark pulling out the bobby pins holding her hair up.  Druig stayed in the kitchen eating the food she gave him. By the time he was in the room Y/N was in bed holding a pillow to her chest. Face buried in it. She put pillows up by her side so her back was facing Druig and he couldn’t touch her.

The bed dipped when he laid down. He faced her wanting to say something because he was stubborn. He could use his powers on her but that was a line that he wouldn’t cross. In fact, he would beg her to break up with him if he ever did something so despicable.

Y/N laid there for hours listening to his soft snores. She couldn’t sleep, the words were playing over in her mind like some personal horror movie.  She got up and made her way to the living room.

Sitting on the couch she stared out the window with a blank look. Eventually the tears she thought would never fall did. At first, they were slow before she let out a sob. She buried her face in the closest throw pillow not wanting to wake him up.

That hope was lost though, because the lights flicked on. He was kneeling in front of her. His heart shattered at the sight. It was all his fault.

“Baby can I touch you? Please?” He begged. Desperate to comfort her.

She nodded, needing the comfort he could give her. His warm hand rubbed circles on her back.  

“You are not those words I spoke.”

At those words Y/N turned her face to look at him. Another tear trailed down her cheek. Druig caught it with his other hand.

“Then why? Why did you say them?” She whispered, closing her eyes.

“I didn’t mean to I was tired and took my frustration out on you. I never should have; I should have had better control over my emotions. I will never say those words to you again.” His fingers tangled in her hair thumb moving up and down her cheek.

“You are my beautiful darling and I will grovel for this till we die.”

Y/N nodded slightly. She stayed silent and more tears fell.

“Please.” That word held a lot of emotion creating a thick cloud around her heart. “Tell me what to do to make this better.”

“Tell me you love me. Make those words go away.”

Druig smiled. He told her that all the time because he did love her. More than he thought he could love anyone. She was the reason he kept going.

“Y/N I love you and you are the best thing to happen in my eternal life. You are the reason I keep going and haven’t lost full faith in humanity. You are my everything…my world.  I didn’t mean those words and will never mean words like that.”

She reached out to him silently asking for a hug. Which he obliged pulling her close. She buried her face in his neck inhaling. She fit there like he was made to hold her. As if his existence was to comfort her and make her happy.

“I am still mad you” She murmured. Druig chuckled his breath fanning the crown of her head eyes closed holding her tighter.

“Completely fair my love. Just know I love you.

A sniffle came from Y/N before murmuring. “I love you too.”

[yuri-is-online]

Can we hear your thoughts on Leona! Yutu?

Since Leona died fighting the Phantom, Yutu obviously wouldn't have met him, and I'm wondering about your ideas between what Leona became after NRC, how the loss of Yuu affected him, Leona's death, and Yutu's opinion of him before and after meeting him. I had an errant idea of Leona having Died a Hero's Death and then when Yutu meets him it's like, "THIS is the guy my parent was willing to spend the rest of their life with???"

Anyway yeah. As a Leona Simp, I would much appreciate anything you write.

Does he like cats... you know I have always sort of seen Leona has having a petty rivalry with Grim because he thinks he should be the King Cat, so the image of Leona! Yutu lying in a field with a bunch of cats is sort of a perfect contrast. I like it: Leona! Yutu absolutely loves cats and they love him.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. You can find even more stuff for it on my masterlist under the series section.

Leona and and his position in the kingdom's line of succession... Based off my understanding of what we see in the Tashmina event I think the Savanna would prioritize protecting their royal family over a lot, something that pissed Leona off. He went to fight the King of Beast's phantom because he saw it as a problem he made and that he needed to take responsibility for sure, but also because he had no faith in his brother to do anything meaningful about it. I want to say that his brother wanted to enshrine Leona as a hero for his sacrifice, but that this decision was very unpopular with his advisors so he was buried in the Elephant Graveyard without much fanfare. He is an extremely popular figure with the hyenas, as is Ruggie. They see him as restoring the Kingdom's honor in a way by defeating the false king, something no other country in the apocalypse can claim, but things are still rough since they can't rely on tourism anymore and the blot has been making the weather really unpredictable, leading to bad harvests and starving people.

If Yuu was Leona's... losing them wouldn't have a noticeable affect on him but it was a massively crushing blow. We know he hates his unique magic because turning things to sand is a curse in the Savanna, but did it really have to be his own family this time? The family he got in spite of himself, the one fucking person who chose him no matter how much he snapped at them and tried to convince them to see him for what he was; a worthless dead end that would only hurt them. And what's worse is he knows that whoever took them had his brother's cooperation.

"Couldn't let me have this one fucking thing could you?" He's laughing as he says it and not even the irritation in his sister in law's eyes makes him back down. "Stuff it. I ain't stupid enough for whatever line you got fed and I don't care about your justifications. You're gonna have to live with this one on your own, Falena. Just like I have to."

He refuses to talk to his other family after that. No matter who is asking or making demands, taking Yuu and Yutu away from him is just one step too far. His brother probably thought that Yuu would be allowed to come home and that's why he let them go, but that's not exactly an excuse Leona would be willing to accept from anyone, let alone the supposed leader of a state. He almost feels relived when the blot phantoms start wreaking things, Leona might just want to sleep until you come to wake him up again but fighting things gives him an excuse to get his mind off things. Dying is a relief, he doesn't have to deal with Idia's whining or living without you any longer than he already has. His only regret is that he had to take Ruggie with him.

I really love this fanart and head cannon fima11 had of Leona's hair being light when he was born, and the color getting darker as he grows, so the idea of something similar happening with Leona! Yutu when he's born is really sweet. Leona's hair sort of resembles a mane, it'd be cute if Leona! Yutu's did the same. And genetics are already so weird I don't think any earth doctors would like too much of it.

Leona! Yutu is a sleepy boy. His hobby is napping and his favorite place in the whole wide world is his bed. He has a bad habit of laying face first in his pillows because he snores pretty loudly and he doesn't want to wake anyone up, which sort of makes him look like he has passed out as opposed to just settled down for a good snooze.

Because he is being raised by a single parent in the human world and not a bunch of gossipy servants hired by emotionally neglectful royalty, Yutu is significantly less entitled than Leona is. He has good sense with his money and can work hard, he just has a bit of a problem with resting bitch face that leaves people thinking he is rude. And to be fair? If someone is testing his patience then he really can be. Apple didn't fall far from the tree, Yutu is absolutely brutal when people test his patience.

Yuu's memories of Leona don't exactly help with his perceived behavior problems, they recall Leona's catty personality and how rude he could be, but that he was so remarkably clever and so very strong, that they were in awe of him sometimes. I think they would mention that he struggled with depression due to a difficult upbringing and feel a need to make sure Yutu felt appreciated and like he could do anything he set his mind to, no matter who he was born as. Yutu just takes that to mean that being a bitch runs in the family and he fully intends to ride that excuse to the bank.

It's a nice thought but Yutu feels a bit conflicted by it. He has no doubt that Yuu will always love and support him, but other people? Yuu might be able to ignore what their neighbors say about them but Yutu can hear them loud and clear. They think Yuu's amnesia is an act, and that he's a weirdo freak. Not to mention they don't have any money so even if he wanted to be a doctor or something like that going to school would be a bit of a pain, even with his grades. He finds school to be boring, and even when he gets bullied by one of the coaches in to taking up a sport because of how strong he is it doesn't help much.

I could see him being very into space and astronomy because he feels like he doesn't belong in your world. He knows a lot of downright stupid stuff about UFO sightings and aliens even though he doesn't believe in them. He is SO DISAPPOINTED when Twisted Wonderland turns out to have no conspiracy theories to talk about, can't think the moon landing was faked if you never had one after all. If the world wasn't literally ending he would be pushing for the Sunset Savanna to win the space race, c'mon guys it is in our name everything the light touches totally expands to the stars-

Like the other beastmen Yutus he maintains his instincts, even in your world. He is extremely territorial about his things and especially your home. Like Cater! Yutu, he has strong feelings of nostalgia for your world, but unlike him it has nothing to do with the monsters or hardships. Lions just tend to stay in the same place for a long time so moving to entirely different world and ecosystem makes him feel weird, even if he prefers his beastfolk body to his human one.

Gets put in Savanaclaw by the mirror. He might like space but his preferred type of argument is rearranging someone's dental work before asking them to explain themselves. He'd be terrible at defending a thesis.

Leona! Yutu's place in the Sunset Savanna hierarchy is tricky. I think, as Yutu is his brother's child, Falena would want some sort of relationship with him as he does clearly love his brother. What makes that hard is that as far as the government is concerned, Leona is dead and that's the end of his part of the family line. Acknowledging that he had a son could further destabilize the already tense political situation in the Savanna since Leona's sacrifice is already a point of conflict between the royal family and a portion of their people. While Crewel has no problem telling Yutu about his father since he has a right to know, the fact that he is technically a prince is completely hidden from him for a long time.

We haven't really played with this idea yet, but I sort of like Leona having a ghost that hangs around his grave sometimes. Idia arranges for Yutu to go there on a day he thinks he'll be hanging around and while Yutu doesn't get to talk to his father he does get to see him and the look of pride in his eyes when the grumpy lion realizes who he is. Leona gets to pass on and be with Yuu while Yutu gets a lesson from his cousin about the concept of the great Kings living on in the sky and how the past lives on in him. Because while Cheka understand his dad's concerns like hell is he not going to meet his favorite cousin. His enthusiasm is really exhausting to Yutu, he appreciates the fact that someone has nice things to say about his dad but he isn't too sure how much he trusts this guy.

Oh right one more thing, I don't want to say each of the Savanaclaw boys would pass their magic on to their Yutu's so if we ever get around to Jack he won't, but Leona should pass on King's Roar to his kid. Causing a drought might be considered a curse but I want to say Leona! Yutu wears it with pride. He loves his roar and that despite all the effort put in to erasing Leona from existence he still lives in him. His head is fit to wear the crown, no matter what anyone says.

Leona clocks what Yutu is the instant he steps out of the portal. It's all in the kid's scent and what runes he used to make the jump. He takes some time to think about what it could mean and comes to a few conclusions. Firstly, if he has a kid with you then he will always have some sort of relationship with you, no not in the yandere possessive way (mostly), he just knows enough about himself and his wants to know that having a kid would not be something he did by accident. If he did that at some point in the future it would be because you were going to stay with him forever and he actually believed that. Something that clearly did not get to happen because of how protective Yutu is of his parent.

Yutu was a bit confused if he should go about interacting with his dad or even ask about him so you can imagine his surprise when he stops by Ramshackle to see Leona half asleep on the couch.

"Oh sorry Yuu isn't here-"

"I know." Leona doesn't even open his eyes, and is he seriously wearing his shoes on the couch? Yuu would kill him for that it's so unsanitary.

"Um. Ok I'll just leave you be the-"

"Why'd you travel back in time?" Oh Leona's eyes are open now and there is something about that stare that's nailing Yutu to his spot and tempting his tail between his legs. His dad must notice because he laughs and shakes his head. "Seriously? If that's all it takes to scare you shitless we really are fucked."

Leona doesn't outright say he knows he's his dad, but Yutu gathers that's probably the case from the difference in his attitude around him compared to everyone else. There's a degree of coldness and severity to Leona when he's giving orders that really isn't present when he's talking to him about overblots or his theories about who is responsible for the bad future. He's almost playful about it, like he is messing with a cub. Which Yutu supposes that he is but still, he doesn't like being treated like a kid. Something he very much regrets telling Leona because holy shit his dad is strong just like Yuu said he was.

I think Leona would make him play chess against him a lot. You can learn a lot about a person by playing chess with them, and since it's something Leona really likes to do he would enjoy sharing it with his son. I think he would also get a kick out of seeing Yutu get really competitive with him about it. Maybe there is some lion in this kid after all.

Leona also makes a subtle effort to teach him about how the court of the Sunset Savanna works. I think Leona would sort of enjoy the fact that his kid didn't grow up as royalty just because it meant he was free of the pressures that he had, but hate everything else he learned about Yutu's childhood. It inspires him to think a bit deeper about how he is going to address this when Yutu is born in this timeline, though he is admittedly lacking on solutions beyond refusing to die this time. He must have been really far gone to even consider making a heroic sacrifice that's not like him at all.

He does get the appeal of his father sort of? Sure he's lazy, but he is extremely intelligent and clearly a lot more knowledgeable about literally everything than Yutu thought he was. When they're working together he sees a very impressive person and reliable leader. When he sees Leona interact with you he has questions. Why do you let him pick fights with you so often? Yutu can tell he's making heart eyes at how you fight back but that's because he's a beatman himself so he can read his body language. And he's not crazy about how he orders you around because if his father is a Prince... wouldn't that mean by marrying him you would also be royalty? He is so confused...

Meanwhile Leona isn't rushing things just because he knows you return his feelings at some point. He wants you to choose to be with him of your own free will, wants the feeling that comes with knowing you did that and he is willing to play the game to get that. Every milestone he reaches is so much sweeter for knowing that he got you on his efforts alone, crappy attitude and all.

The reveal to Yuu, much like the reveal to Yutu is extremely mundane. Leona invites you to spend the night with him sometime after you get together and he asks you while you're curled up on his chest and he's holding you just a bit too tight (not because he's afraid you'll run, not at all) how you would feel if you could never go home.

"A little upset." Because you had resigned yourself to the possibility a long time ago now. There's a chance you're only in Twisted Wonderland because you died in your world anyway, might as well be grateful you're still kicking. "And if you stayed and things went bad here, would you still be alright with that?" You don't hesitate at all to his surprise. "I think I'd be safe if I was with you." Well he really hates to prove you wrong but you still deserve to know.

Leona is weirdly quiet in his anger. He roars sure, but that's to exert control. When he's mad he just gets smug and says a lot of hurtful stuff. He leaves the screaming to Yuu, and I could see a Yuu that got with Leona only to learn they didn't get to spend the rest of their life with him doing a lot of screaming. Preventing the apocalypse is a team effort now but first Yutu and Leona are getting scolded for not letting Yuu in on the secret sooner. Leona is down bad horrendous and Yutu wants to die, he hates making you mad.

If I had to make a list of characters I would trust to find a solution to an apocalypse, Leona would actually be pretty close to the top. He is going to bitch about it the entire way, but if he were given the facts before things went too sideways, I think he would be able to make a good plan to set them straight. And there is no way anyone is going to tell him that he managed to have something as precious to him as Yuu taken away from him and not have him do something about it. He'll swallow his pride and take his licks when he has to, but not on this. Never on this, whoever thought he'd just roll over and die is going to shatter in his hands and be like dust on the wind. He really hopes they have enough sense to be prepared....

[denaliwrites]

Don't Turn Your Back

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Part 1: Don't Blink Part 3: Don't Look Away Part 4: Dreams See Us Through

Summary: If you never see a Weeping Angel again as long as you live, it'll be too soon.

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp

Warnings: Weeping Angels.

When the Doctor said "Let's find out why this Weeping Angel is stalking and torturing you," you weren't exactly sure how he intended to do that.

You were not expecting him to propose establishing a psychic link between you and the Angel in question.

"Absolutely not," you'd said, adamantly. "Find another way -- I won't have that thing inside my head."

"It's the only way," he'd said, and damn if he wasn't a bloody good liar.

"I hate you," you'd said.

To which he'd smiled and replied, "You know you're dying to know." And damn if you weren't convinced he couldn't read your mind, sometimes.

So now, here you sat, with some odd machine he'd fashioned out of scraps sitting atop your head. "I don't like this," you told him nervously.

"Oh, but you look great," he told you with a smile. Despite his blasé attitude, you remained unconvinced. He was a little too casual, yet for some reason he wouldn't meet your eye.

"What's wrong Doctor?" you finally asked as he adjusted the machine you wore. "Why won't you tell me the other options?"

"Because there aren't any," he said, yet again.

"Doctor, I know when you're lying."

"Because the only other option is to let you die," he snapped, voice broken and movements suddenly jerky as he was overcome with emotion. "And I will not let you die."

"Oh."

You regretted asking. And yet, you persisted.

"So this is safe?"

"No," he replied with a sigh. "But you have a better chance if we do this than if we do nothing. If we do nothing... the Angel will get bored, and..."

"It may not send me back... like the other Angels do."

"Are you ready?"

"No."

"Starting on the count of three."

He counted down, turned the machine on... and then everything went black.

You could tell something was off even before you opened your eyes, but opening them certainly confirmed your suspicions. You found yourself back in your flat, but the world around you was strangely dark and covered in thick mist -- even though you were inside.

Not a fan of that, you decided.

Walking through your flat didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary, besides the darkness and the fog. There were no ghosts, no angels, no Doctor, no... anything.

You were alone.

How were you supposed to tell him? How would he know to pull you out? Those thoughts, among others, ran through your head as you made your way outside to look around the garden. Finding more nothing, you moved on to the street.

You saw the TARDIS on the other side of the road, its light dim and ominous in the oppressive dark of whatever Hell this was.

You wanted to run towards it, and into the safety of the TARDIS, but movement to your left caught your attention.

Oh.

The Angel.

You sucked in a steadying breath and walked towards it.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked as you neared. You hadn't expected your voice to echo. It freaked you out a little. This whole place did. The situation, too.

The Angel didn't answer you.

"Oh. Do I need to turn away?" you asked, genuinely. You blinked and when your eyes opened you could've sworn the Angel's lips were slightly more upturned. "Okay. I'm here to talk. I'm here in good faith. Please don't kill me... I... I'm trusting you."

It was a terrible decision, really, but what choice did you have?

So you turned -- and closed your eyes for good measure.

"Why are you doing this?" you repeated.

A voice not unlike two rocks grinding against each other whispered in your ear, "Revenge." And as quiet as that single word was, it still echoed around you.

"But I've never seen a Weeping Angel before," you whimpered. "How could I have done anything to you worth revenging over?"

"Not you," the voice whispered.

Oh. Well, the only other person that left was the Doctor.

"What did he do?" you asked, even though you didn't actually want to know.

"He killed my sisters."

"I... I'm very sorry," you started, swallowing thickly. "That must've been... terrible. I can't imagine."

"He took something from me," the voice continued, "something I loved. So now I will take from him something he loves."

A nervous laugh bubbled out of your throat. "The Doctor doesn't love me."

"Foolish human," the voice said, and there was just enough threat in those words for you to instinctively open your eyes and turn around.

The Weeping Angel was gone.

Nerves alight and mind about a hundred times more exhausted than it was when you first entered this place, you sighed and wearily turned to the TARDIS. Walking inside revealed that it was just as dark, misty, and creepy as everywhere else.

But you could see yourself sitting in one of the seats by the console, unconscious. The Doctor hovered beside you, his hands clutching yours desperately. He kept whispering to himself, but in this place they echoed right over to you, clear as day --

"Come on, come on, come on."

Over and over, just those two words.

You watched sadly for a moment before you made your way to... well, yourself. You weren't really sure how to wake yourself up, but were willing to try anything and everything that came to mind.

Which was how you found yourself going through a series of ridiculous attempts that included yanking on wires, chanting in Latin, screaming in your face, slapping your face, and dancing the hula.

After everything you tried failed, you dropped to the floor with a whimper and closed your eyes.

You awoke with a jolt, gasping desperately as if you'd been holding your breath for several minutes.

The first thing you saw was the Doctor, still hovering over you. He looked incredibly relieved to see you back, unharmed. You let him take the machine off, and though you felt incredibly heavy suddenly you let him pull you into a hug, too.

"What happened?" he asked as he pulled away. "What did it say?"

"It..." God, you were so tired. Why were you so tired? "It says it wants to kill me because you killed its sisters...?"

You could see him pondering that, eyes searching the air as he tried to recall a time he may've killed some Weeping Angels. All the while, his hands still held yours. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

If he remembered at all, he did a strangely good job of hiding it, though you supposed it helped that your sudden swaying drew his attention away. "Hey, hey," he cooed, pulling you up and into his chest. "Let's get you to bed, eh?"

You shook your head, pushing yourself gently away from him. "I need... to think. Erm. I'm gonna take a shower. And then I'll go to bed..." You nodded tiredly but resolutely and made your way to your bathroom.

The shower you took was long, just shy of blisteringly hot, and not nearly as productive as you'd hoped it would be. Your thoughts kept running in circles, or else running away from you altogether, and chasing them only served to wind your anxiety up like a rubber band about to snap.

And snap it did.

You hadn't even realized you were screaming until the Doctor was pulling you out of the water and gently shushing you. You only sort of quieted, your screams simmering down to sobs as you clung to him. He held you firmly, protectively, whispering such gentle words of comfort and encouragement in your ear even as your cries filled his.

"Oh, it's all right now," he soothed, petting your wet hair. "I won't let it hurt you, eh? I promised I'd keep you safe, didn't I?" He sighed when the only response he got was a sob, and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Carefully, and much to your confusion, the Doctor managed to move to a stand with you cradled in his arms. You didn't protest as he carried you to your room (again), nor as he set you down and swaddled you up under the covers.

As you started to come down, you realized you were still naked -- that the Doctor had pulled you out of the shower and held you and carried you all while you were naked, but honestly dealing with that would have to wait until you weren't exhausted.

Once he was, seemingly, satisfied with the cocoon he'd surrounded you in, he leaned forward and pecked your forehead, then moved to leave.

"Doctor, please don't," you begged quietly, still sniffly.

He paused for only a moment before he turned back to face you, before he came to sit on the edge of your bed, before he scooted in next to you and laid beside you.

He didn't even need to speak for you to feel comforted. Even just turning to face him and nuzzling up to his shoulder had you feeling immensely better.

He rested his cheek against the top of your head and silently stared up at the ceiling as you yawned and sank into him. It took a long while for sleep to come for you, but when it finally did, it came hard and fast.

You were haunted by nightmares of moving statues.

[bowlofsoob]

SOOBIN AS YOUR MUTUAL THAT YOU HATE IRL — part two

part one

soobin x gender neutral reader

you and soobin have been mutuals on twitter for almost a year as you both run bebe rexha fan accounts. he uses a fake name and you guys get along well, you talk to him more than your irl friends atp. on the other hand you and soobin don’t get along irl after constantly competing for the number one spot on the academic leaderboard. since then he always gives you a rbf and says he finds you too obnoxious. but that all changes when you finally decide to meet your favorite oomf in person.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐་༘

The street was dark apart from the flickering lamps on the side of the walkway as you made your way towards Steve – or well Soobin’s – house. It still felt odd.

Your palms felt clammy and you were clad in your pajamas, in too much of a rush to change. Which was a decision you were regretting since the flimsy fabric did nothing to protect you against the wind.

Before you knew it you spotted the complex Soobin supposedly lived in, and as you walked closer you could see his tall figure waiting for you in the dark. It would’ve been rather creepy if not for the fact he was drowning in a large hoodie and sweats with a beanie tugged on his hair. His arms were crossed across his chest as he rocked back and forth due to the cold.

You swallowed your nerves and made your way towards him, not quite knowing what to do with your hands other than give him an awkward wave as he spotted you.

“Hey,” he breathed out, gesturing for you to follow him inside.

The warmth of his apartment was far more welcoming than the freezing night. He shut the door behind you both and tugged off his beanie as he gestured for you to sit down.

“Hi,” you greeted back as you sank down on his couch. The entire place felt very lived in.

Soobin’s face scrunched up into an abashed smile.

“I missed you,” you added, “I’m glad you reached out.”

“I am too,” he hummed, reaching out to take his hand into yours. His palms felt warm against your own freezing ones.

“What was your last text about?” you question as his thumb rubs circles on your palm.

“I don’t know what your talking about?” he smiles, “What did I say?”

“You know damn well what you said,” you huff.

“Okay, well I meant it,” he answers, “I convinced myself to try and forget you since you were an online friend. But having you right in front of me changed things.”

“Changed things how?” you say, warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“Well, for one I can actually see you,” Soobin notes, “And do things like this,” he adds, his voice going quiet as he reaches over to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And, instead of fantasizing about kissing you, I could actually do it.”

“You fantasized about it?” you ask in disbelief, still flustered at the touch of his hand so close to your face “You didn’t even know what I looked like!”

“You were kinda just a blob in my mind,” he shrugs, a smile tilting his lips at your offended face.

“A pretty blob though, right?”

“Of course.”

“So, you really don’t hate me?” you muse, playing with his fingers, “It’s so weird seeing you be so gentle.”

“Would you rather me go back to being rude?” he replies, “But I really don’t. I feel a little ashamed at how I used to treat you.”

“It’s okay, I did the same,” you assure, patting his hand, “Let’s start fresh.”

“Okay,” he agrees, clasping your hand in between his, “Let’s go out.”

“Straight to the point?”

“I don’t think we should waste any more time,” he replies, “I need to make it up to you.”

“Kiss me and consider yourself forgiven,” you manage to croak out, your throat closing up at your false confidence. Honestly, you were qute irritated with yourself on how you treated Soobin for the past few months. You desperately wanted to move on and start fresh.

Soobin let out a surprised laugh and you wanted to ingrain the sound into your mind. He brought up his free palm to his mouth and let out a small giggle into it.

“Okay,” he manages to say, taking a deep breath.

“Any day now.”

“Shut up, I need a moment–,” he started, but was interrupted as you reached over and yanked on his hoodie to slot his lips against yours. He stumbled and you both fell backwards onto the couch as he caught himself above you, both knees outside your hips as you snaked your hands around his waist.

He stared at your for a mere moment in disbelief before leaning down to capture your lips with his. His lips felt pillowy against your own and his warm body right on top of yours made it feel just as good.

You had to remind yourself not to laugh into the kiss with how happy it made you feel.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐་༘

future texts and tweets

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐་༘

[fuctacles]

Henderson's-brother-centered misadventures continue [Part IV]

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III]

Eddie screamed. Then, he screamed some more. Then, he got hit with a teddy bear, which bounced off into the floor, barely disturbing his mane of hair.

“You get a drop of spit on my pillow, and you’re washing all my sheets!”

He groaned, like a wounded animal. If animals could be wounded by their best friend’s disloyalty.

“No, dude! You can scream into your own fucking pillow! We can jam if you need, smoke or steal a beer, hell, I can even listen to you. But don’t just come here to stink my room with-” Gareth made a flapping motion in Eddie’s general direction. “Whatever this is.”

Eddie groaned louder before finally rolling onto his back.

“I fucking hate him.”

“I was hoping you’d choose jamming,” Gareth sighed. He threw his leg over his chair and leaned on the back of it. “You mean Big Bro Henderson?”

“Who else?” Eddie threw his hands up into the ceiling. His friend barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “He’s the most annoying person I’ve ever met!”

“Good thing you can’t meet yourself, then.”

Eddie glared at him, but from this angle, it gave him a double chin which severely decreased the look’s efficiency.

“You calling me annoying?”

“Yes.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘lively’. Or ‘charismatic’! Or, or, ‘non-conforming’!”

“No, I’m pretty sure ‘annoying’ is the word. Also, ‘dramatic’.”

Eddie glared again, but since his position has not changed so hasn’t its lack of impact.

“How dare you,” he seethed. Gareth completely ignored it.

“So, what did he do this time? Give you more cookies?”

“No!” He had regretted the decision to tell him about it as soon as it left his mouth, but it was out there now. Well, the price of the blackmail material was listening to it first. “He just…” Eddie trailed off, realizing what he was about to say. ‘He let me sit in his lap for the whole length of Karate Kid’ was so much harder to explain than ‘he gave me an extra cookie for my good work.’ He scrambled to find a better approach. 

“So he’s like a therapy dog,” he started, because painting the scene is important.

“What.”

Wrong approach.

“Okay, so I’ve found out he has some issues, something to do with the Starcourt fire, I think? You know nothing of it, by the way, I probably shouldn't know about it. Henderson, well, the little one, just has a big mouth.”

“And so do you. By telling me,” his friend pointed out.

“Emerson, this isn’t about you,” Eddie scolded him. “So he needs extra physical contact or something. And he might have um…” Wrong turn again. “Engaged me in it?”

“Ok, hold on,” Gareth dropped his forehead on the edge of the chair’s back and rubbed his temples. “What do you mean by that? Because I know it’s not as weird as you make it sound.”

Eddie crossed his arms, which looked extra stupid in his horizontal position. He tapped his socked foot against the mattress.

“We were watching Karate Kid, and the couch wasn’t big enough for four people. Nobody else wanted to sit in his lap and I thought it would be, you know, funny, to offer. And he just said ‘okay’, and did it!” His arms flew up into the air again.

Gareth lifted his head.

“So you sat in his lap.”

“He put me in his lap.”

“Dude, you throw your legs all over me when we watch a movie!”

“Yeah, but that’s different!”

“How?”

“Because we’re friends! We play together and shit!”

Gareth scrunched his nose because while he knew of the wisdom his friend possessed (very selective and rarely occurring in the daylight), admitting him right was painful because the cockiness he possessed was probably far greater.

“Well, maybe he’s giving you signs he wants to be friends?”

Eddie snorted.

"No way. Not possible. No."

"And why is that?" Gareth raised an eyebrow at the adamant negation.

"I'm his younger brother's friend-"

"Who's his age."

"-And we like different things. I'm a freak, I like metal and D&D!"

"So does Dustin, and they get along well."

"They are brothers!" 

"Well, I actually hate my sister, it’s not a rule."

Eddie groaned.

"I don't know," he ended up saying, just to voice his internal frustration. At least he was facing the ceiling now and not Gareth's pillow.

He hummed, considering his friend, trying to understand his problem, to even locate it.

"Okay, so you don't like that he's nice?"

"Yes."

"... You want him to be mean?"

"... Yes? Maybe?"

Gareth hit his head against the chair. 

"This whole conversation is lost on me."

When he looked up he met Eddie's eyes, a storm brewing behind them.

"I don't want to like him. But he makes it hard not to because he's so nice."

‘He treats me like I'm normal, like his equal’, went unspoken but Gareth could hear it anyway. It was time to end the questions for the day because getting any deeper into his friend's psyche could trap him like quicksand. 

"And then I go to apologize and end up talking about BDSM of all things!"

"Nope!" Gareth straightened up and hopped out of his chair. "We're going to the garage, so I can't hear you over the drums."

"What a best friend you are," Eddie grumbled but rolled off the bed regardless. He was secretly glad for an excuse to stop talking about Henderson because he started getting lost in his thoughts and feelings himself.

The next time he sees Steve, he doesn’t make it any easier. They see each other only in passing, and the older brother doesn’t give him more than a weak smile and a "Hi, Eddie. Dustin's upstairs," before leaving.

Eddie walks up to his friend's room thoroughly confused. 

"What was that about?" he asks instead of a greeting. He never greets his friends properly these days, but there are more important things like ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s.

"What was what about?"

"Steve," Eddie frowns like it explains everything. And apparently, it does.

"I think he's still upset after last time."

Eddie blinks.

"I said I was sorry!"

Dustin rolls his eyes.

"Sorry doesn't solve everything. It's like a," he snaps his fingers looking for a good comparison. "Like one of the spell components. It's not gonna work without all of them."

Guess he is casting Charm Person after all.

"Okay, but like. What are the other components?"

Dustin just shrugs.

"Hell if I know."

Eddie was burdened with the most unhelpful friends. 

"What do you do when you upset him?"

Dustin's first instinct is to protest, probably point out what a great little brother he is, but one stern look from Eddie makes him shut his mouth and reconsider his words.

"Well, if I made him upset, I'd help him with dinner, make him coffee or tea, pick a movie I know he'd like. Help out with chores, mostly. He does too much by himself." The frown on his face is deep like the mystery of Steve's adoption and Eddie mirrors it.

"This sounds all great when you're brothers, but I'm not a Henderson, how am I supposed to pull that off?

"You helped with dinner once, you could do it again," 

Eddie sighs, long and suffering.

"I guess…"

"Great! Steve has left to get groceries and is making dinner later, I'm sure he'll appreciate the help!" He grins, knowing full well he just backed his friend into a corner.

Eddie sputters when he realizes that. 

“What? Today?”

“No better time than the present.” Dustin shrugs smugly, like it was a universal law they can’t help but follow.

Eddie bristles, because, yeah, true, but…

“I'm not mentally prepared," he complains. 

"For what?" Dustin raises his brows in this annoying way of his. "Cooking?"

"You ate my mac and cheese, you understand the severity of the situation!" he yells, accusingly pointing a finger at him.

"Ate is a big word, I spat it out. And calling it mac and cheese is also a big word."

"Exactly!" Usually Eddie didn't like his abilities slandered like that but on the rare occasion when it served his purpose… 

"Steve's first casserole was also inedible," Dustin shrugs and Eddie tries to picture Mr. Perfect Housewife fucking up a dish. "You have about an hour to mentally prepare before he's back though. You can spend it finishing your readings."

Ah, right. The mundane purpose of his visit was schoolwork.

Eddie groans. He can only hope the tragic stories of holocaust victims will set him in the right mind for cooking with Steve.

They don’t. He's heavily unprepared for the confrontation when they're running down the stairs to help with the bags. 

When Steve's instructing them which things he needs and which can be put away, Dustin elbows his friend in the ribs, hard. He hisses in pain, attracting Steve's attention.

"You staying for dinner?" he asks before Eddie can say anything. 

"Uh, if I can help with it, then yeah," he says, feeling Dustin’s annoying beady eyes on himself.

Steve frowns at him.

"You don't have to do that, I’ve told you before."

"Yeah, but I'm done with my work for today," Eddie adds under the menacing gaze. "And my cooking skills need some guidance. Wayne is too old to stomach my food, he can't risk another food poisoning,” he babbles, earning himself a snort from Steve. 

“Okay, if it's that bad,” he agrees finally,  the smile Eddie has gotten used to once again on his face. "But you'll be under strict supervision."

"Of course!"

"Okay, you already got yourself a kitchen slave, so I can go finish my work," Dustin speaks up before promptly disappearing, only the sound of his rushed retreating steps left.

"Guess we're alone then," Steve comments, giving Eddie an odd look. He thought he was used to those but Steve's were always hard to decipher. Not the exact kind he usually got.

He clears his throat to dislodge the weird feeling clogging it up.

"So, what are we cooking today?"

Steve hums, looking at the ingredients before him.

"You ever cooked soup?"

"Uh, I assume you don't mean the instant kind?"

Steve makes a disgusted face, fake gags for a good measure too.

"Soup it is then. It's getting colder, and I'm sure Wayne would appreciate it," he says, eyeing Eddie questioningly, and this one he deciphers easily.

"My uncle,” he explains. "I live with him."

To his surprise, Steve smiles warmly.

"Wanna make some extra you can heat up for him?"

"That's-" Eddie's taken aback, which doesn't happen to him often. "That would be very nice, thank you."

"It’s nothing. He should know his nephew is spending his time productively."

"I'm always productive," he mutters back a complete lie. But he's been trying, okay?

"I know," Steve says, surprising him again. "Maybe I want to get on your uncle's good side too."

Eddie doesn't ask why. Doesn't want to know. Doesn't speculate. Just leaves it be, bugging him for the time being.

"I was thinking fritters too? Since they're easy to heat up later."

Eddie nods, watching him sort through the vegetables.

"Whatever you say, chef."

Steve instructs him through the soup preparations first, explaining it needs more time to cook. 

“I hope you don’t mind veggie broth. El didn’t like chicken and we kinda got used to it. Also, it’s cheaper,” he says, watching Eddie pour water over the vegetables arranged in the pot. 

He puts the pot on the burner and looks up.

"Who's El?"

"Dustin's friend. She moved to California though," Steve answers with a frown.

"That's a bit of a drive."

"Yeah," Steve scrunches his nose, then looks back into the pot, before reaching for a box of seasoning.

"Ok, now for the fun part."

Eddie has no idea how seasoning a pot of vegetable water can be fun, but he's not about to argue. He follows instructions and marvels at the amount of weird plants that could be added to food. 

"I feel like a witch," he whispers, tossing dried herbs into his cauldron.

Steve chuckles.

"You kinda look like one."

Eddie side-eyes him from his position over the pot.

"I hope that's a compliment."

"Oh, it is," Steve says in a weird voice and Eddie is too afraid to look at him. He flips through the seasoning packets instead, reading unfamiliar names.

"Okay, so this needs a couple of hours to cook, you'll know when it starts getting together from the smell. Then we'll blanche the onions and garlic, add the tomatoes, blend it all, and it's done. Now we can work on the fritters. Have you done them before?"

Eddie thinks about it for a moment.

"I saw my uncle make them."

"Potato ones?"

"Uh, yeah? Are there more options?" he asks, eyebrows drawn together.

"Apparently, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. “A fritter is technically anything you can grate, slap together and fry in a pancake-ish shape."

"Huh. I've learned so much today already."

Steve laughs. 

"So, what do you want in the fritters?" he asks and Eddie is ridiculously giddy about having a choice.

"Can we put meat in them?"

"Yeah, I've made them with bacon before."

Eddie's eyes sparkle.

"Potatoes with bacon and cheese?"

"Holy shit,” Steve groans. “Claudia's gonna kill us, but it sounds so good." He ponders on it for a moment. "We could add corn to pretend there are vegetables in them."

"Ketchup is a vegetable," Eddie points out and Steve bristles. 

"We're not eating them with ketchup!" he protests. "But… we could use some of the tomatoes to make a sauce."

Eddie never thought cooking could be this fun.

"Yesss!"

"You're way more excited than I thought you'd be," Steve observes, grabbing the potatoes to wash.

"I'm a growing boy, of course I'm excited about food. Besides, we're like two alchemists; mixing up stuff to make other stuff."

Steve laughs again.

"Are those the guys who tried turning metals into gold?"

"Precisely!"

He's tasked with peeling the potatoes while Steve puts bacon in the oven. He’s  never good at it, and he huffs angrily when Steve joins him and gets through three potatoes while he peels one. What's worse, he can see him watching and his fingers twitching.

"Okay, I can see you itching to correct me. Just do it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah man, unless you have some disease I could catch, I'll be fine."

Steve winces and Eddie has a lightning-fast memory of a rumour that gays spread a deadly disease. But Steve isn't gay, probably, and it's just a rumour.

Steve is still haste when he rearranges his fingers on the peeler and takes his hand away like touching him burns.

Eddie frowns. Well, that's not gonna cut it.

"Like this?" he asks, making a motion he knows is wrong.

"No, like-" Steve reaches out and hesitates. 

"I don't have cooties, come on."

Steve presses his lips together and wraps his hand around his. He has to move closer too, crowding Eddie's side. 

"Like this," he says, whispers really, pushing his hand in the right motion.

This suddenly feels more obscene than it is, but Eddie’s half tempted to push it further.

"Your hands are weirdly soft. Do you steal Robin's hand cream?" he asks instead.

Steve huffs at the backhanded compliment and retraces his soft, big hands.

"No, I have my own."

"Hmm." Eddie cocks his head, looking him up and down. "Should have guessed."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Steve asks with a frown, but he can tell the anger is played up. 

"Nothing," Eddie shrugs. "You just look like someone taking care of himself." 

Steve keeps looking at him like he is not sure if he should be offended or not so Eddie helps him out by rolling his eyes. 

“Don't worry, I judge you more for your music than your hygiene.”

“Of course,” Steve huffs. “You wouldn't know much about hygiene anyway, would you?” he teases with a smirk.

Eddie gasps.

“Are you implying trailer trash don't clean themselves?” he asks, eyes wide and offended. 

“What? No!” The smile vanishes instantly from his face. “Of course not!” Steve scrambles to defend himself. But then, he cocks his hip and crosses his arms.

“You know what? No. I stand by it. Your hair needs proper care, not whatever 3 in 1 you treat it with,” he says. 

“5 in 1,” Eddie corrects him smugly. 

“Five?”

“Hair, body, face, beard and ass,” he lists on his fingers, earning himself a look of disgust from Steve. 

“For that alone, you’re washing your hands again.”

Eddie knows he doesn't have to, but complies anyway. Whatever makes the big Henderson happy. And consecutively, the little Henderson. And somehow, Eddie himself.

By the time the sun starts setting, he’s gained some valuable culinary knowledge, including the fact that as a cook, he gets to taste the dishes all the time. His growing boy tummy is satiated with a stolen strip of bacon and one of the test fritters he’s munching on, when they hear the door unlock.

“I’m home!” a woman’s voice calls out. Eddie freezes.

“We’re just finishing dinner!” Steve calls back while the man next to him shrinks on himself, looking up at him and wondering why he isn’t being pushed into a closet like a secret paramour. 

“Your mom is here?!” he seethes through his teeth, eyes jumping from Steve to the door. 

“Well, yeah?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “She lives here?” 

“But why am I here?!”

Was Steve this stupid or did he not grasp the severity of the situation?

“You’re cooking? Staying for dinner? Studying? The fuck do you mean man?” he answers, more or less matching his volume.

“Mothers hate me!” Eddie reminds him helpfully, making Steve only roll his eyes with a huff.

“Claudia likes you.”

“She never saw me,” he reminds him. Because as soon as any of the suburban moms caught a whiff of his metal vest, his dark clothes and long hair, he felt disgusted eyes on his back. 

And when the Satanist drug dealer rumours reach them? Things only get worse. 

“Dude-”

“Oh, hi boys!” A tired-looking blond woman enters the kitchen. Her smile doesn’t waver despite Eddie’s presence, meaning she must have seen some shit in her life. “You didn’t tell me we’ll have a guest today.”

Steve steps in before he can put his foot in his mouth, laying his big warm hand on his shoulder. 

“Eddie finished his work early and wanted to help in the kitchen. Hope that’s alright.”

At the mere thought it wouldn’t be, Eddie’s stomach twisted. 

“Of course! The more, the merrier!” Claudia smiled, still seemingly genuine, before stepping closer and extending her hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, Eddie. I’ve heard a lot about you from my boys.”

Steve’s hand is still on him squeezing minutely to remind him to shake Claudia’s hand.

“Likewise.” He smiles to his best ability, unable to remember the last time he was friendly with someone's parents. Except Gareth's, maybe.

“What did boys make?” she asks, sniffing the air and trying to peek over his shoulder.

“Tomato soup, like you asked, and some fritters.”

“With veggies, I hope?” She squints at her oldest (newest?) son.

“There’s corn in them, and we made a tomato sauce.” He smiled brightly and Eddie could tell he was happy to play the good kid role. 

“Good. I’m gonna change and get back to you,” she says before disappearing upstairs, probably to harass the younger Henderson now. 

“Why was she so nice?” Eddie muses, half to Steve, half to himself, half to the universe in general. Wait, that's three halves. Well, he didn’t fail school because of his great math skills.

“She's always nice.” Steve steps away to work on the next batch of fritters.

“Not to me! Mothers hate me! I bet she’s just pretending but as soon as I disappear, you're gonna hear all about it!”

“Hey!” Steve turns back towards him, frowning. And uh-oh, he upset him again. On his reverse-upset mission. “Claudia’s not some uptight bitch like that. She likes all our friends and you're not an exception. Just because you dress differently isn’t gonna ban you from the house or get us in trouble.” He knocks him on the head for good measure. “You’re safe here.”

“Okay,” Eddie simply says, taken aback. Being welcomed somewhere was a feeling he still had to process.

“We're safe here,” was a soft addition he almost missed over his own loud thoughts but made him even more curious about Steve himself. 

User tags: @i-have-three-feelings @mblogs @awkwardgravity1 @imacowboy3 @just-a-tiny-void @clumsiluni @shotgunhallelujah @halfadoginatank @carlprocastinator1000 @irregular-child

[sonoyoung]

— unsaid

non idol!minghao x gn!reader | fluff + mini angst + second chance | 1.1 k | words i didn’t say - why don’t we

a/n. its been a while lol, i hope you enjoy.

It was out of reach. He’d thought of reaching out to you, just to check up on you. He knew he’d made the decision but he wished he hadn’t, now he could see everything so clearly and you were at the center of it.

Once upon a time, he had you all to himself, you were ready to be anything he wanted you to be but that somehow wasn’t enough for him. Thinking back on the way he brushed off your feelings, pure and authentic love, only for him to give you back nothing, he could only regret it now.

Why was it only when it was too late that he realized these things? He had wanted to convince himself that his heart wasn’t beating because of the smile on your face, that the feelings he felt for you were only out of sympathy, after all he never wanted to date you in the first place.

He just couldn’t reject you, so he accepted. He assumed it would be short lived, boring and easy to escape. He would get to know you during that time, act like he was interested and then he’d figure out some dumb excuse to end the show because he had tasted the fruits that young love brought and they weren’t tasteful enough to make him want to try again. But somewhere along the line, the acting faded into his actual feelings, and everything felt so real.

That didn’t stop him from going along with his initial plans. So now you were gone, just as he wanted except he was starting to realize, it was far from what he wanted.

Everyday with you in such a short amount of time felt like a dream, like he was being blessed just swimming in your eyes. He’d listen to you for hours just drowning in the beauty, in each lash, in each curve. He could probably draw those eyes perfectly just from the memory. It was such an unexpected feeling that the only solution was to ignore it. Ignore the thoughts of a future together that sprung up right as tiredness settled in, ignore the spark that lit up in your eyes every time your hands would connect.

All of that for nothing because he had already made up his mind on the way things would play out. Surely he hadn’t fallen deep after a month spent together, it was so unlike him. So he went through with it, leaving so many words unsaid, leaving you confused about where it went wrong.

Now you probably hated him, while he was realizing how deeply he was in love with you. Would you answer if he called? Did he have any reason to call? He just missed your voice truly, the thought that he could never hear that voice again felt unthinkable.

Love was never good for him so he gave up on the wishful thinking, but what if this was the right one, the one they made movies about, he felt like he could write a whole script about this indescribable feeling.

Fuck the phone.

He never ran but he was running right now, checking his watch as he slipped through the pedestrians, judging from the time he knew exactly where to find you, he could make it.

Just as you opened the door he rushed down the corridor, out of breath, an unfamiliar sight from Xu Minghao.

“Hao…” Your words faltered, a face that once brought you so much comfort now all you could feel was a deep pit building up in your stomach. You wanted to ask why he was here, why he’d ended things so abruptly when everything was going well, but you just waited for him to speak for himself.

“I won’t ask for your forgiveness, I just… I didn’t realize this before but I’m so in love with you, and it’s so hard ignore because you’re the only thought on my mind”

Each step he took forward and closer to you made you want him even closer. You looked up at him hesitantly, the words sounded nice in your ears but he’d tricked you so easily once before, you wouldn’t have anyone else to blame but yourself if he was fooling you this time.

“You were able to figure that out in 48 hours?” He smiled, and you shift your gaze away from him, he really knew how to get you.

“I kinda always knew but… after that night, being away from you I realized it wasn’t something that would just pass.” His voice sounded soft, gentle, reassuring, sincere.

“The thing is… you hurt me Minghao, you got my hopes up so high and then you completely destroyed it.” Your feelings were undeniable, you’d liked him first, asked him out, planned most dates. A part of you wanted to see that from him, the words were nice but actions spoke louder.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I was an idiot…” He sighed looking up at the ceiling, he turned his gaze back down, a soft smile playing on the corners of his lips, “You know listening to you most of those nights together, I never wanted the sun to rise, I wanted to spend eternal nights with you.”

“I had so many signs but I was really just scared, of how much I did care for you so I ended up fleeing and hurting you in the process.” Your eyes closed shut from the slight brush of his fingers on your cheeks. Eyes back up on him you could only think of pulling him closer, closing the gap till you were one.

“Hao…” his hand cupped your cheek perfectly, his name fell out unconsciously. He hummed curiously scanning your face for a hint, you lift your hand up reaching for his collar to pull him in closer.

He let his hand go down your neck, a light gasp escaping your mouth as his lips pressed against yours. He kissed you so delicately, tasting your sweet balm right off your lips, pulling you in closer as you breathed out on him. The urge to drag him into your apartment only grew as his tongue met yours, before you’re able to get any further you’re interrupted by the sound of keys pulling away immediately to greet the older lady.

You turned away at the same time once she’s gone, eyes meeting with an amused smile on your lips, you let him take your hand in his, toying with your fingers mindlessly as he stood there, above you, just staring in your eyes lovingly.

“You promise you’ll stay?” You asked weakly, he let your fingers intertwine filling in the gaps, leaning closer to rest his forehead on yours.

“I promise you eternal nights.”

ty for reading feedback is much appreciated

[the-mighty-e]

I haven't seen many people talking about it, but being the crazy huskerdust fan I am, I'll talk about it.

I have the whole Loser, Baby mv memorized in my mind, and I've been practicing singing with certain emotions that will make my singing better. With all of this I noticed something in loser, baby: Husk sounds happier than ever. And yeah this may be obvious, I mean, look at him.

We've seen in episode 5 how scared he is of Alastor, and how relieved he was in ep 8 while Al wasn't there with them.

He was happy that Angel opened up in ep 4, even if he opened up snapping. Husk took that chance to tell Angel that he also made terrible decisions that made him end up caged.

BUT THAT'S NOT EVEN THE BEST PART, HE WAS EXTREMELY HAPPY TO HAVE SOMEONE TO TALK TO

I mean look at his smile.

For the whole first part of loser, baby before the chorus Husk was "talking about himself", as a way to show Angel that they're really in a similar situation.

He was opening up to someone. And not idk a bartender, like he definitely did in the past, he was opening up to someone who could understand him, who ALSO needed someone else. Husk realized this, he realized that they found each other, LOOK AT HOW MUCH HE SMILED HERE

And even this, he probably insulted himself like this multiple times, he was happy to share those insults with someone else

EVEN HERE, HE DIDN'T JUST SAY "just like me" HE PUT HIS HAND ON HIS CHEST, AS A WAY TO EMPHASIZE THAT THEY'RE ACTUALLY THE SAME

He was having fun, he was actually having fun opening up like this. I'm 100% sure that if we rewatch the whole season, and take all the times Husk smiled, in this song he smiled the hardest.

He was stuck for so long "at rock bottom", he knows what Angel is going through.

LITERALLY LOOK AT HIM, HE'S HAPPY TO HAVE FOUND ANGEL

He even LAUGHED, he couldn't hold it anymore. Many people when they're happy they laugh. He laughed not to mock, but to tell angel "yeah, tell me about it!"

"Get outta here man" Basically saying that it's useless to whine, he knows the pain of being constantly controlled by others, he literally means to say that he shouldn't waste his time regretting. He knows what that feels like

Anyways I can't fit any more images but, even later on when he says to angel "baby that's fine by me" YEAH THAT'S FINE, IF BEING A DICK SUCKER IS YOUR COPING MECHANISM, THEN WHO SHOULD STOP YOU??? BE YOURSELF!!!!

Angel realizes this now, he's not alone anymore. He has someone he can talk to knowing well that he can relate too. If they stick together "things will end up differently".

And the last chorus, my favorite part of the song, it's meant to be a message to everyone, even the viewer. Stop hating yourself, your only path from now on is going on, who cares what everyone thinks about you. Yeah you're under someone else's control, so what? If it doesn't stop you from living your best life, why should YOU limit yourself? "Play your cards, be who you are".

Anyways I love this song it makes me feel accepted and I'm so happy it exists

[nelkcats]

Consequences

When he felt compelled to take over as Robin in order to save Batman from himself, Tim didn't have high expectations; he didn't expect to be adopted by Bruce, he didn't expect to acknowledge the fact that his parents were abusive by leaving him alone for months, he didn't expect anyone to care if he ate or not, and in general he didn't expect to gain a family.

And for a while he thought that everything would get better: he gained brothers, he had a caring father, he had no financial problems or had gotten sick; And yes, maybe Robin's patrols were harsh at first, maybe Bruce's words when he was angry reached his heart and hurt him deeply, but he was fine.

Until he wasn't, at some point he felt more abandoned than ever even though he was surrounded by his family. When he was talking to his boyfriend, he realized that everyone took him into account but no one really appreciated what he did.

At first he didn't understand why Danny looked at him concerned and kept asking if he was okay while he told him an anecdote from his life as a vigilante; they had known each other for a while (Alfred had noticed, the others hadn't), they started talking, dating in coffee shops and even revealed the fact of being vigilantes after a few months on a relationship, that's when they started sharing anecdotes with each other.

Danny mentioned that he was being a hypocrite for caring so much about his stories when his were just as bad. Tim didn't get it until he started to see things from another perspective.

He never realized how much it hurted how Bruce had never thanked him for helping when he was lost in time, or how Dick avoided talking about his Robin time by concentrating on Damian, he thought he could understand but that didn't make it any better, Jason's nickname was beginning to make sense.

He didn't realize how broken he felt when Jason tried to kill him and blamed him; He was his childhood hero, Tim loved Robin because Jason put him in the stars, however, no matter how many times he explained to his brother that the only reason he had taken the suit was because he had no choice, and that he felt forced to blackmail Batman to be his Robin before Bruce became what he hated most. Jason still didn't care, still called him Replacement over and over again, blaming.

Or Damian who kept trying to kill him, refusing to acknowledge him, and when he defended himself he ended up getting reprimanded. Not even Bruce thanked him for all the work he did in taking over the company as CEO. His entire family went on with their lives without repercussions.

Maybe he was being naive as he refused Danny's requests to run away from home and stay with him, at least for a few days so they would miss him. He felt like a broken record repeating the phrase "it's okay, they're trying, they can change", the look on his boyfriend's face told him he wasn't doing a good job on believing his own words.

The mansion made him feel small at times, ignored; it was fortunate that Alfred was actually paying attention to him and offering a cup of hot chocolate at such moments.

At some point he couldn't take it anymore, Jason and Damian's comments had gone too far, Bruce's lack of response along with Dick's laughter commenting that they weren't saying it in a bad way only made him angry, so he left the cave and called to Danny, he told him it was time to go.

He said goodbye to Alfred, Cass, Duke and Steph who had generally not contributed to his decision, and he regretted that he couldn't stay longer to get to know them better, but the damage had been building up for a long time.

He wrote a letter detailing his reasons to the rest of the family, leaving along some clues to let them know that he had left of his own free will and they wouldn't be able to find him even if they wanted to, he sighed as his anger turned to resignation.

"Are you ready?" Danny questioned, taking his hand gently as they walked out of the mansion.

"Ready as I'll ever be"

That's how Timothy Jackson Drake said goodbye to his home dimension and headed to the infinite realms, of course he was going to sneak in a couple of times to help his friends but never when his family is around. He hadn't expected the life in the palace or the marriage proposal that came years later, but although the place was gigantic, Tim felt good in it, comfortable, appreciated.

Time in the Realms passed quite quickly, unlike his original dimension, so years for him were a couple of months for his family.

He found it ironic that Danny was summoned as the Ghost King by Ra, who had the nerve to order the "creature" to give him the secrets of the Lazarus pits, offering the Batclan as sacrifices. Tim looked at the time portal connected to his home dimension (That Clockwork had given him to watch his family and friends, even if he was upset he was not going to let them die) wondering if he should interfere.

It was decided when Danny called Fright Knight to deal with the nuisance that was Ra, and he accompanied him as a royal adviser (regardless of his second title as ruler, he actually liked being a part of strategizing better and Danny was happy to give in to his wishes).

With a weary sigh he crossed the portal and began to recite Ra's crimes, indicating how he had damaged the balance between life and death since he corrupted the ectoplasm on the Lazarus pits to extend his life at the same time that Frighty stopped the man.

No one in the room bothered to pay attention to the stupefied bats who were watching the missing member of his family, but years older, that apparently was the Ghost King royal adviser. They tried to call him but Tim just gave them an annoyed look before continuing with his work.

By the time Fright Knight took Ra completely chained through the portal, they finally saw the ghost king move, he started kissing Tim's face repeatedly, which had turned his frown into laughter.

The moment they finally processed the scene they both disappeared, and well, weren't those the consequences of their own actions?

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Thanks to @unadulteratedsoulsweets for the general idea, I enjoyed writing this! Even if it ended up a little bigger than I expected