#Crack ☽ I am only body

[bangchansdirty-slut]

Punishment

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Paring: Sub!Camboy!Jungwon x Dom!Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: Y/n discovers Jungwon preparing for a camboy session, surrounded by adult toys and wearing a collar. She confronts him playfully, revealing she knows his secret and hinting at a shared experience.

More: Masterlist

A/n: I'm considering creating more fics like this if you want me to. Also, I am currently working on some requests. Requests are still open; it might just take a while.

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Y/n always had a knack for making an entrance. She'd saunter into a room with the confidence of a lioness surveying her pride, and today was no exception. Jungwon's apartment, however, was uncharacteristically still. The usually warm, welcoming space was filled with an eerie silence that made Y/n's skin crawl. She called out his name, expecting the usual greeting or the distant sound of a shower running, but all she heard was the faint hum of the computer in the bedroom.

Her heart racing, she pushed the door open to find Jungwon sprawled on the bed, surrounded by a sea of dildos and vibrators. He was in the middle of setting up for his live cam show, dressed in nothing but a pair of skimpy lace panties and a collar that glinted in the dim light. Y/n's eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. But as the reality set in, a smirk curled on her lips. Jungwon's secret life as a camboy was about to become their little shared secret.

"Well, well, well," she purred, crossing her arms over her chest. "Look what we have here."

Jungwon's eyes shot up from his task, wide with a mix of fear and arousal. He knew he was in trouble, and his cheeks flushed as he scrambled to cover himself with a pillow. "Y/n baby," he stuttered. "I can explain."

But Y/n was already striding over to the bed, a glint of mischief in her eyes. She grabbed the leather whip off the bedside table, the same one he had used on her countless times before. "Oh, I think I can guess," she said, her voice low and sultry. "You've been a very bad boy, Jungwon."

Her hand came down with a sharp crack across his thigh, and Jungwon yelped, his body jolting. The sound was deliciously satisfying, and Y/n felt a thrill of power course through her. She leaned down, her face inches from his, and whispered, "You're going to show everyone what happens to naughty little camboys who don't tell their mommies about their side hustles."

Jungwon's eyes searched hers, a silent plea for mercy, but she only grinned. "You're going to be the star of the show tonight, baby," she said, stroking the whip along his body. "And I'm going to make sure everyone sees just how much of a slut you are."

With that, she turned on the webcam and the room filled with the eager chatter of his online audience. Y/n didn't miss a beat, slipping into a pair of red, lace lingerie she found in his drawer. She knew he liked it when she played the part of a stern dom, so she leaned into it, her voice firm and commanding. "Look at all these people waiting to see how a bad boy gets punished," she said, her hand tracing the line of his jaw. "They're all so curious, aren't they?"

Jungwon nodded, his voice shaky. "Y-yes, Mommy," he murmured, his eyes darting to the screen and back to her.

Y/n felt a thrill at the sound of the word "Mommy" on his lips. It was a term they'd played with before in their private kinks, but the fact that he was saying it now, in this context, was exhilarating. She knew it would drive his fans wild, and she had every intention of using that to her advantage. She lubed up the strap-on dildo with a wicked smile, watching Jungwon's eyes widen in anticipation and a hint of fear.

"You're going to beg for it," she told him, her voice low and sultry. "You're going to apologize to everyone for being such a naughty boy, and then you're going to show them just how much you enjoy your punishment."

Jungwon swallowed hard, his throat dry with nerves. He had never been outed like this before, never been caught in the act by someone he cared about. But there was something about the way Y/n's eyes gleamed with excitement that made his cock throb in his panties. He felt the cold metal of the vibrating cock ring being snapped around his erection, and he gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"Look at him," Y/n said, addressing the camera. "He can't even wait to be punished."

The chatter in the chat grew more feverish as Jungwon's fans watched the scene unfold. Y/n knew they were eager to see their favorite camboy get what he deserved, and she was more than happy to oblige. She straddled him, the strap-on pressing against his ass. "You're going to apologize to all your little viewers," she ordered, her voice like silk. "Tell them how sorry you are for keeping secrets from Mommy."

Jungwon's eyes watered as he whispered, "I'm so sorry, Mommy. I'm a bad boy." His voice was a mix of genuine regret and the thrill of his newfound vulnerability. The camera picked up every tremor in his voice, and the audience lapped it up.

Y/n smirked, feeling the power dynamic shift heavily in her favor. She grabbed his chin and tilted his head up, forcing him to look into the camera. "Is that all you have to say?" she demanded, her tone a perfect blend of disappointment and dominance. Jungwon took a deep breath, his eyes glossy with lust. "I'm so sorry, Mommy! I'll be good! I'll do anything you say!"

The chat exploded with excitement, a cacophony of lewd comments and demands. Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph as she began to peg Jungwon. She thrust deep, watching his face contort with pleasure and pain. His body arched off the bed, his moans growing louder with each stroke. She tightened her grip on the leather whip, ready to use it if he didn't perform to her satisfaction.

"Look at this greedy slut," she said, her voice carrying over the sound of his gasps. "He loves being filled up, doesn't he?" Jungwon could only nod, his eyes rolling back in his head as she hit just the right spot. The vibrating cock ring around his shaft sent waves of pleasure through him, making his entire body quiver.

The chat was alight with comments, eager viewers urging Y/n to go harder, to make him scream. She reveled in the power, her movements becoming more forceful. Each thrust was punctuated with a snap of the whip, leaving red lines across Jungwon's pale skin. He squirmed and writhed beneath her, his desperate pleas for release echoing through the room.

"Not yet," she purred, her own arousal growing with every second. "First, you need to show Mommy how much you can take."

Jungwon's eyes snapped open, and he gritted his teeth as she yanked on the chain attached to his collar, forcing him to look into the camera. His cheeks were flushed, his hair a sweaty mess, and his eyes were glazed over with desire. The strap-on filled him completely, stretching him in a way that made him feel both used and utterly adored. He knew he was putting on a show for his viewers, but all he could focus on was the pleasure Y/n was giving him, the way she was dominating him so completely.

"Such a good boy," she cooed, her hand reaching down to squeeze his cock, the vibrations from the ring sending shockwaves through his body. "Now tell them how much you want to cum for Mommy."

Jungwon's voice was strained, his words barely coherent. "I-I wanna to c-um s'badly, Mommy~," he whimpered, his eyes never leaving hers. "P..ase, let me c-cum."

Y/n chuckled, the sound as dark and seductive as the room's shadows. "Only if you can make Mommy cum first," she said, her eyes gleaming with challenge. She pulled out the strap-on, watching Jungwon's hole quiver with need. He nodded frantically, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Y/n straddled Jungwon's face, her own pussy wet with excitement. She could feel the heat of his breath on her, and she knew he was eager to taste her. "Eat me out," she ordered, her voice thick with desire. "Make me cum, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you have your little reward."

Jungwon didn't need any further encouragement. He buried his face between her legs, his tongue darting out to tease her clit. Y/n moaned, her hands fisting in his hair as he worked his magic. He knew exactly what she liked, and he wasn't going to hold back now. The camera captured every moment, the sight of Jungwon's eager mouth on her pussy sending the chat into a frenzy. His fans watched, enraptured, as he licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around her sensitive bud.

Y/n's hips began to rock, her body moving in rhythm with Jungwon's mouth. She could feel the tension building, her orgasm approaching like a freight train. Her eyes remained locked on the camera, a smug smile playing on her lips. She knew she had him right where she wanted him, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. "fff-fuck yes baby," she breathed, her voice tight with pleasure. "J-ust like that, baby."

Jungwon's eyes fluttered closed as he focused on his task, his tongue delving deeper into her wetness. He could feel his own cock straining against the ring, the vibrations almost too much to handle. But he was determined to make her cum first. His tongue flicked and danced, tracing the folds of her sex with a practiced ease.

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body tensing above him. She leaned back, her breasts bouncing as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Jungwon's hands gripped Y/n's thighs, his face a mask of concentration as he worked tirelessly to please her. His own need was a constant throb, the vibrations from the ring making his balls ache. But he knew his place; he was here to serve, to be her good little boy.

Finally, with a guttural cry, Y/n squirted, her juices coating Jungwon's face. She collapsed onto the bed, her chest heaving as she looked down at him, her eyes hooded with satisfaction. Jungwon lapped at her thighs, his eyes pleading for his own release. "Good boy," she murmured, a hint of pride in her voice. "You've earned your reward."

With a swift motion, Y/n climbed off Jungwon, her legs wobbly with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She grabbed the cock ring and tugged it off, tossing it aside. Jungwon's cock sprang free, hard and desperate for release. "You did so well," she said, her voice softer now. "You really are the best little slut for Mommy."

Her hand wrapped around his shaft, her grip firm and sure. Jungwon moaned, his hips bucking up to meet her touch. The sensation was overwhelming after the constant vibration, and he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. Y/n leaned in, her lips pressing sloppily against his in a kiss that was as much about claiming him as it was about showing their connection to the audience. She tasted faintly of herself, a musky sweetness that made Jungwon's toes curl.

Their kiss grew more urgent as she stroked him, her thumb swiping over the head of his cock in a deliciously torturous pattern. Jungwon's breath hitched, and he could feel the beginnings of his climax building. The chat was a blur of words, their fans lost in the performance. But all Jungwon could focus on was Y/n, her eyes locked on his, her hand working him closer and closer to the precipice.

"Ask them what they want to see," she murmured against his lips, her voice a seductive whisper. Jungwon's heart raced as he turned to the camera, his voice thick with arousal. "W-hat do you wa-nt Mommy to do to M..e?"

The chat exploded with suggestions, each more depraved than the last. Y/n's eyes danced with excitement as she read through them, her hand never stopping its steady rhythm on Jungwon's cock. "Looks like my little slut has quite the fan club," she said, her voice filled with amusement.

"P-please, Mommy," Jungwon begged, his voice breaking. "I n-need to c-cum."

Y/n's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on her lips as she considered the options presented by the eager viewers. "Looks like you've been a very popular boy," she said, her thumb teasing the slit of his cock. "They want to see you squirt all over yourself like the little whore you are."

Jungwon's eyes rolled back, his body on the brink. "I-I'll do it," he panted. "A-anything, just let me cum."

Y/n's smirk grew into a full-blown smile. She knew she had him. She leaned down, her breath hot on his ear. "Tell them," she whispered. "Tell them how much you want to cum for Mommy."

Jungwon's voice was shaky as he spoke to the camera. "P-please, everyone," he stuttered. "I w-want to c-cum so badly for Mommy." The words were barely out of his mouth before Y/n's hand sped up, her grip tightening. Jungwon's body was a symphony of sensation, his muscles tensing and releasing as he neared climax.

The room was thick with tension as Y/n worked him closer and closer. The smell of sex hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint scent of leather from the whip that lay discarded on the bed. Jungwon's eyes squeezed shut, his hips jerking upwards as he chased his release. The sound of the chat had become a distant buzz, their words fading into the background as he focused solely on the pleasure Y/n was giving him.

"Look at me," she demanded, her voice firm. Jungwon's eyes snapped open, meeting hers. There was something in her gaze that was both terrifying and exhilarating, a mix of love and dominance that had him trembling with need. "Tell me you're going to cum for Mommy."

"I'm g-going to cum," he whimpered, his voice a desperate plea. "P-please, let me cum."

Y/n leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against his chest as she whispered, "Do it for Mommy."

With a strangled cry, Jungwon came hard, his cum spurting onto his stomach and chest in thick ropes. The camera caught every drop, his fans watching in awe as he trembled and squirmed beneath her touch. Y/n chuckled, her hand still moving slowly on his over-sensitive cock. She knew he was spent, his body a mess of nerves and pleasure, but she wasn't quite done with him yet.

"Such a good boy," she murmured, her voice a sweet caress in the otherwise raunchy atmosphere. She leaned down to lick a bead of cum from his chest, savoring the salty taste of his release. Jungwon's body was a symphony of sensation, his muscles still quivering from the intensity of his orgasm. He panted, his eyes fluttering closed as she kissed him gently.

"Thank you, Mommy," he whispered, his voice a hoarse whisper. Y/n couldn't help but smile at his obedience. She climbed off the bed, her own arousal still simmering just beneath the surface. "Don't go anywhere," she told him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We're not done yet."

Jungwon watched as she grabbed the leather whip again, his heart racing with anticipation. He knew she had more in store for him, and the thought both thrilled and terrified him. Y/n strutted back to the bed, the whip crackling in the air as she approached. She looked like a goddess of desire, her lingerie clinging to her curves and her hair a wild mess from their earlier exertions.

"You've been such a good boy," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "But now, it's time for your final punishment." She held up the whip, and Jungwon's cock twitched in response. "You're going to count for me, baby," she instructed, her tone firm. "Every stroke, you're going to count, and you're going to thank me for each one."

Jungwon nodded, his breath shallow. He knew this was it, the grand finale of their little performance. He braced himself as the whip made contact with his already sensitive skin, the sting making him gasp. "One," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/n's strokes grew stronger, painting a picture of red on Jungwon's ass. Each crack of the whip was met with a muffled cry and a whispered "Thank you, Mommy." His body danced with the pain, his legs shaking as he fought to stay in position for her. The room was alive with the sound of their play, the whip echoing through the speakers and into the ears of his devoted fans.

Jungwon's eyes watered, but he didn't dare break the gaze he held with Y/n. He knew she could see the mix of agony and euphoria in his eyes, the way his body responded to her dominance. It was a heady feeling, one that made his cock throb even as the pain grew more intense. He felt her hand on his thigh, her grip reassuring as she guided him through each stroke.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jungwon reached the last number, his voice strained but obedient. "Ten, Mommy," he whimpered, his body sagging in relief. Y/n tossed the whip aside, her eyes still locked on his. "Good boy," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "You took your punishment like a champ."

Jungwon couldn't help the smile that graced his lips. He felt a strange sense of pride, knowing he had not only satisfied his Mommy but also his eager audience. His body was a canvas of desire, marked with the evidence of their game. He looked up at Y/n, his eyes pleading for the final act of their show.

Y/n leaned down, her breasts brushing against Jungwon's back as she whispered in his ear. "You've been such a good boy," she said, her breath warm and comforting. "Now, it's time for your reward."

Her hand reached back, her fingers finding his still-hard cock. Jungwon's eyes rolled back in his head as she began to stroke him again, her movements gentle this time. He knew she was in no rush, that she was savoring the moment just as much as he was. The tension in the room had shifted, the power dynamic no longer a game but a lived reality that bound them together.

Their kiss grew deeper, more intimate as she brought him back to the edge. Jungwon's breath hitched, his body taut with anticipation. He could feel the warmth of her pussy against his thigh, her own arousal clear as she ground against him. The camera captured every moment, their private world laid bare for the viewers to see.

With a final, desperate moan, Jungwon came again, his body spasming as ropes of cum shot out of him. Y/n's hand never left his cock, her touch soft and soothing as he rode out the last waves of pleasure. When he finally opened his eyes, she was smiling down at him, her own satisfaction clear. "Thank you, Mommy," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/n leaned down, her cheek pressing against his. "Thank you, baby," she said, her voice just as tender. "You were incredible."

They lay there for a moment, their bodies tangled together, the camera still rolling. Jungwon felt a mix of relief and euphoria, the adrenaline of their performance still coursing through his veins. He knew that their relationship had just entered a new phase, one filled with secrets and taboos, but he also knew that he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Alright, everyone," Y/n said, her voice suddenly business-like as she turned to the camera. "That's all for tonight. Don't forget to tip your performers." She winked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And Jungwon," she added, her voice a low purr. "Be a good boy for Mommy, or we'll have to do this again."

The chat erupted in a frenzy of tips and goodbye messages as they kissed one last time, their bodies still connected. They pulled away, the spell of the moment broken. Jungwon reached up, his hand shaking as he fumbled with the laptop to end the stream. The room fell silent, their world shrinking back to just the two of them.

He looked up at Y/n, his eyes filled with a newfound love and admiration. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "That was…"

Y/n chuckled, cutting him off. "It was what you needed," she said, her voice firm. "And it's what you're going to get from now on." She climbed off the bed, Jungwon following her to the bathroom. The cool air hit his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

In the bathroom, she turned the shower on, the steam quickly filling the room. Jungwon watched as she peeled off the s lingerie, revealing her own naked form. He couldn't help but admire the way her curves moved with confidence and the smirk on her face that said she knew exactly what she was doing. He felt a strange mix of submission and adoration for her, a feeling that was both new and thrilling.

"Get in," she said, her voice still carrying the same commanding tone from earlier. Jungwon nodded, eager to obey. The hot water washed over them as they stepped into the shower, the sting of the droplets mixing with the lingering pain from the whip. Y/n grabbed a bottle of shower gel, her eyes never leaving Jungwon's as she began to lather him up. Her hands were firm but gentle, gliding over his bruised skin with care.

[moonlightazriel]

Labour /// Eris X F!Reader

Summary: As an act of punishment, his father made sure that he would never have his mate, but even Beron cannot change what was meant to be.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of giving birth and domestic violence

Word Count: 2,7K

Notes: Slightly inspired by Labour from Paris Paloma!!

Main Masterlist

His hand felt heavy on her waist, his proximity made her feel like she couldn’t breathe, she kept looking down, with polite smiles here and there but never words, they didn’t care about what she had to say anyway. Aeryn laughed again, the sound made her flinch slightly, subtle enough for the others not to notice, but enough for his fingers to press deeper into the fabric of her gown.

She excused herself, walking away from her husband and the members of the Autumn Court council, she stopped by an empty balcony, trying to steady her breathing. She touched her round belly, wanting to sense the baby in there, the only thing that kept her sane, the only reason to keep going.

“You look breathtaking tonight!” His voice was soft, warm as the fire running in his veins, she closed her eyes, swallowing deeply, her heart skipped a beat when she turned around, the lights from the ballroom illuminated his hair, making it shine brighter, he was wearing gold, it suited him so well. His eyes scanned her fragile figure, landing on the fading bruise on her cheek, the one that not even makeup was able to hide properly.

“It’s nothing.” She whispered as soon as his fingers touched her chin, forcing her to look up, at those beautiful eyes. “Eris, please just forget it.” She begged, he didn’t say a thing, just looked at her, the face that he loved so much, that sparked with life every time she spoke, now gone, replaced by a paler and skinnier version, dark circles under her eyes and that damned purple bruise.

“I’ll kill him, I don’t care that he’s my brother.” He said, resting his forehead against her, their breaths synchronizing, hearts beating as one, as he held his mate in his arms, she was taken from him, another form of punishment and control from his father. “You can’t keep living like this.”

“I can if that means I will see you.” Her voice broke as tears gathered in her eyes, those stolen moments were the only things that she treasured more than the baby growing inside her.

“Y/N…..”

“I should get going, Aeryn doesn’t like when I disappear for too long.” It took every bit of strength left in her to leave him there, the bond inside her chest screamed for her to come back. She quietly stood by her husband’s side one more time, not daring to look for him again.

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“You know what’s funny dear wife?” Aeryn’s voice was close to her back as they entered their house. “It's that you think you’re so smart, pretending to be innocent and shit, but I can smell him on you, you dumb bitch.” His hand grabbed her hair, pulling harshly forcing her to look at him.

“Please Aeryn, think about the baby.” He laughed, the face of a demon looking back at her.

“Oh, I am..” He placed a hand on her belly and she swallowed dryly. “But Eris needs to understand that you’re mine despite what the Cauldron says.” He forced her upstairs, hand still tucked tightly in her hair and the other around her neck, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe, until he threw her limp body on the bed and left her there.

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Beron smirked as his eyes landed on her neck and the visible handprints there the next day, as the family appeared for dinner.

“So, how’s the baby?” He asked directly to her, her throat was still sore and her voice was cracking when she spoke.

“Just fine, in a few days I will be able to know the gender.” Every word burned and stung, and he knew it. Eris clutched the fork in his hands tighter, his gaze fixed on her.

“I hope we get another strong boy, our lineage doesn’t need any more weakness.” The silence at the table was awful.

“I’m sure Aeryn will be happy either way, darling.” Lady Autumn said, her kind word comforting Y/N, who rested a hand protectively over her belly. “I saw your horses at the stable when we arrived, they look beautiful.” She kept going, changing the subject, Aeryn just started talking about his stallions, and everyone forgot Y/N for the rest of the night.

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“It’s a girl.” The words sink deep in her guts, and her whole body started to shake in absolute panic, what he would do to her, to them? He made it very clear that he wanted a boy.

“You cannot tell this to anyone.” She held the healer's hand, the female looked Y/N in the eyes.

“But what if they ask?” Y/N’s breath was coming in short gasps as she feared for the tiny baby’s life.

“Lie, tell them it’s a boy, be convincible, I don’t know. But no one can know the truth.” The tears spilled from her eyes and the healer nodded, reassuring her that she would do everything to prevent them from knowing the truth.

She was still considering her options when the front door opened, Aeryn was sweaty and dirty from the hunting day, he didn’t even spare a glance in her direction before he ordered that she needed to prepare him a bath. Most of the time, he just treated her like a servant, so she got up and went to their bathroom to start preparing everything.

“What the healer said?” He asked as she rubbed a cloth on his back, she almost let it slip as she answered.

“A boy, she said it’s a boy.” He turned to her, a smile on his lips, the first genuine smile he ever gave her.

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.” He kissed her belly and she shivered. “Just a few more weeks and I’ll be ready to meet my boy.” The happiness in his tone made her even more nervous, he would kill them both when the truth came out.

That night he made sure they had a good meal together, he held her in his arms as they lay down to sleep, kissing her hair and thanking her for making him the happiest male alive. When she woke up, she knew what she had to do.

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Eris couldn’t focus on the papers, the distress he felt since yesterday still making him a little afraid for her, he knew that was coming from her end of the bond, stronger than ever before. He ran a hand through his hair, the small wooden cabin in the middle of the forest was silent, the only place no one knew it existed, his safe haven.

He got up, going to the kitchen to make some tea, the heavy rain fell outside when he heard a knock, someone was frantically knocking on his front door, only a crazy person would be walking around in the rain like this, he cursed under his breath, and opened the door, feeling his heart stop in his chest.

“Can I come in?” She smiled weakly, she was soaked and held a bag, behind her, a horse waited by the fence. He stepped to the side, allowing her in.

“How did you find me?”

“I just had to follow that pull in my chest.” He grabbed her bag and headed to the bathroom to run her a bath, she silently followed him, after he prepared the bath, he stepped outside, letting her take her time while he prepared something for her to eat. “It smells delicious.” Her hair was wet and she smelled like sweet herbs, a large sweater covered her 10 months belly.

“Then come eat.” He handed her a bowl with the warm stew, and she quickly started to eat. “What happened Y/N?” She slowly looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

“It’s a girl!” That’s all that she needed to say, Eris was immediately by her side, pulling her in for a hug, she sobbed in his chest, the muffled sounds making his heart break.

“I always wanted a niece. Don’t let them take that happiness from you, especially since you always wanted a daughter.” He said, kissing her forehead.

“What will Aeryn do once he finds out the truth?” Her red eyes met his.

“Nothing, he won’t do anything cuz I won’t allow it.” He waited for her to finish eating before he led them to the only bedroom there, he made sure she was comfortable before he headed to the door.

“Can you stay?” She whispered in the darkness and the bond in his chest sang with life, warming his entire body, so he turned around, letting himself lay with her in his arms, feeling the happiest he had been in years.

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“Your father asked him to go on a diplomatic mission, so I took the chance and ran away in the middle of the night.” She said, stuffing her mouth with more scrambled eggs, Eris smiled at the sight, the one he have been wishing for 3 years.

Beron immediately knew about their bond, making an offer to her parents to marry her off with Aeryn in a way to punish him for working with the night court at the war, they sold her like an object and were more than happy to do so. So for three years, he had been longing to be with his mate, dreaming of having her in his arms like last night.

“You should rest after, or that baby girl might come before she’s supposed to.” She looked at him.

“Iris.”

“What?”

“Her name’s Iris.” He smiled at her.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.” He rested his hand on her belly and his forehead against hers.

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Her legs suddenly got wet, and she rose from her spot in the gardens, discarding the book she was trying to focus on, she started to breathe more quickly as she walked inside.

“What’s wrong?” He was immediately by her side and helping her to walk inside.

“It’s time.” His heart started to race against his ribs, and he helped her sit on the couch.

“Can you wait a little bit while I get a healer?” She nodded, trying to focus on her breath while the pain in her body increased, Eris winnowed away, leaving her alone.

“Push.” The healer demanded, and Y/N did, feeling her whole body being crushed, her back was pressed against Eris’s chest, while he held her, one hand massaging her belly and the other she held in a bone-crushing grip.

“You’re doing great darling, just push one more time.” He encouraged her, she was covered in sweat, a yell ripped from her gritted teeth, and her hand held him even tighter, he felt the pain, but compared to hers, it was nothing. Two hours and the baby still hadn't come out, he was starting to get worried.

Y/N kept pushing, feeling all her strength vanish as she did, her whole body felt weak but Eris's presence, his warm body against her, and his encouraging words, this made her push again, it was like she was being ripped apart, but suddenly the pain stopped and all she could hear was the light crying, the healers worked on the baby and then handed her a tiny package, from in between the blankets she could see the amount of red hair, the baby looked at her.

“Hi, Iris.” She whispered, and Eris could feel his chest filling with love, her love and his own filled his heart, the baby looked at him, and he thanked the Mother that he was seated, or he would’ve fallen to his knees at that moment.

“She’s so beautiful.” He let a finger caress her little cheek and he could swear that Iris smiled at him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Two days later all they could do was stare at the baby, Eris didn’t leave her side for anything, always making sure all her needs were attended to. She was feeding Iris when he had to go back to court, Aeryn had discovered Y/N had disappeared and he was going crazy.

“Where is she?” Aeryn yelled, hands grabbing his shirt while he pressed Eris against a wall.

“How would I know? You’re the one not taking care of your wife.” Aeryn’s fist connected to his eye and Eris felt his blood boiling, he grabbed his brother’s shirt, pushing him away, the fabric burned where he had touched.

“I will get that bitch back, she’s carrying my son.” Eris scoffed.

“Good luck finding her, idiot.” He left, heading to his father’s office, just to find it empty. His heart started to beat rapidly and he immediately winnowed back, the cabin was empty, and the smell of his father and his guards was recent.

Eris was freaking out, he had winnowed back to every spot he knew she could’ve been held hostage, but it was in the throne room he found her, her whole body had bruises and her face was swollen, she was almost unrecognizable, Beron and Aeryn were there, smirking while he held his daughter.

"It takes a weak female to produce another one.” Beron said, pointing to the baby and Eris stepped forward.

“Leave them alone, please.” He begged and their smirks just grew wider.

“You’re a disappointment, I don’t want to see your fucking face around anymore, but you’re welcome to this traitor execution tomorrow.” Beron, rose a hand, dismissing him and ordering his guards to remove him, he was thrown in the mud by the front door of the Forest House, his mind was spiraling with ideas and he winnowed again.

The knife was on his throat before he even stepped out of the flames, Rhysand and Cassian looked at him, so it was the Shadowsinger that held the weapon against him.

“What do you want?” He said in his ear, and Eris breathed, the image of Y/N still fresh in his head.

“Help.” Rhysand signaled for Azriel to put the knife down and he did. “You need to kill him. Tonight.”

“We know we still have to fulfill our part of the deal, but we need to prepare, I can’t just send someone to kill him now.” Rhysand said and he turned to Azriel, the only one who understood what longing for a mate meant.

“ I need you to kill him, he will kill my mate, please Azriel, please.” He didn’t care he sounded pathetic, the fear of losing her was bigger than the fear he felt of his father. “He will kill her and I don’t know what to do, I’m desperate.” Azriel looked at him, the coldness was replaced by a sparkle of empathy and he looked behind Eris, waiting for approval.

“You wait here, we’re doing it tonight.” The shadowsinger said and Eris didn’t give a fuck, he threw his arms around the Illyrian, pulling him in for a tight hug, and his tears soaked the warrior’s clothes.

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“You’re welcome, High Lord.” Azriel said, gently pulling Eris away and disappearing through the shadows.

Rhysand’s inner circle listened patiently as he told their story, Morrigan held his hand the entire time, and by the end, he felt like he could really trust these people. He couldn’t sleep, waiting for Azriel’s return. He returned by the sunrise, her smell hitting him, he ran to the living room, where Azriel had just arrived with Y/N and Iris in her hands.

“You’re going to be okay, it’s over now.” Eris said as he held her closer, closing the distance between them, kissing her swollen lips with all the care in the world, her bruises were still very fresh.

“I love you.” She breathed and he felt his tears again.

“And I love you two so much. Thank you Azriel, I will be forever in debt to you.” The male just shook his head, leaving them alone.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The news of Baron’s death traveled fast, and those who knew or suspected that Eris was responsible for it, pretended they didn't, no one said a word, accomplices of an act of love.

“As the High Lord, you’re banished from the Autumn Court, if you’re seen in its territory once again, you will be executed.” His voice was commanding and powerful as he sentenced Aeryn, the male looked at him. “Consider this a kind gesture from your High Lady.” He said, leaving the cell his brother was being held.

Y/N was playing with Iris in their room, she looked at him, a smile on her lips, making her eyes shine brighter.

“Thank you for everything.” She said.

“I would do anything for my family.” He kissed her forehead and the baby in her arms, his family finally reunited as it was always meant to be.

[fungal-rot]

Something In The Orange

‘To you, I’m just a man. To me, you’re all I am, where the hell am I supposed to go?’

pairing: joel x reader

summary: joel has finally managed to push you away. his past continues to follow him.

warnings: ANGST (no comfort), DARK THEMES (implied SA attempt- from other people, not Joel- hint of dark!Joel), allusions to smut (just a memory, not really descriptive), joel drinks alcohol to cope, no description of reader. please let me know if i forgot anything!

w.c.: 1.5k

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

     Joel sat on the stained mattress, unmoving, with his head hung low, body hunched over, and hands loosely clasped in his lap while he stared at the bruises and cracks on his knuckles with disgust. The room filled with deep embers of the rising sun, a sight most would find comforting or romantic, but not him, not this time. No, it was just another bitter reminder of what he once had.

He wanted to leave and start walking however far his old knees would carry him. Yet, he couldn't get himself to move. Too many memories were stored in every nook and cranny of this dilapidated house, memories shared with you. Tears pricked his eyes as he lifted his head, gaze flicking around and studying every square inch of the place. Like to the cobwebs you were insistent on keeping away, regathered in the corners of the ceiling and tinted gray with dust. Or to the flowers you plucked from the overgrown yard, now sagging solemnly in a mason jar atop the dresser.

It's too quiet.

He abruptly stood from the bed, joints crackling in harmony with the squeak of the rust-covered springs. Each heavy step of his boots hitting against the hardwood floor seemed to reverberate off the walls, a telltale sign of how alone he truly was.

Joel paused as he entered the living room, but could he really call it that when there was no trace of life anymore?

It's too empty.

He swiveled on his heels and marched towards the door, nabbing the half-drank bottle of whiskey on the end table.

Joel sat on the porch steps, tilting his head back with the bottle pressed to his lips and gulping down the amber liquid, welcoming the burn in his chest with a subtle wince. It seemed that was all he was good for anymore, inflicting pain whether it was directed at others or himself. A palm pressed to his forehead, elbow propped on his thigh, he leaned against the framing of the rail, hoping that maybe the events from the days prior were all just another one of his countless nightmares. Any minute now, he'd see that beautiful face of yours appearing from behind the trees, greeting him with open arms and that warm smile you'd always wear just for him.

Something in the orange tells him you're not done.

As the empty shell of a man sat there, his attention shifted to the markings hidden under his heel. His foot scooted inward, and the corner of his mouth twitched up only for a second as he sat his whiskey down and traced a finger over the scratching of his and your initials in the wood.

He remembered that day vividly.

For three long weeks, the two of you trekked the woods without actual shelter; but off in the distance, you spotted an old house and took off in a flash with Joel following close behind as he hollered after you.

After Joel checked the perimeter, ensuring there weren't any infected or raiders, you sat down on the porch steps with a soft grunt and pulled out your pocket knife, carefully carving your initials into the cracked planks.

You hand the knife to Joel with an eager gaze; the gruff man stands there with his arms folded over his chest, eyeing you with a light-hearted, pinched expression. You motioned the handle to him again, brows waggling slightly with a lopsided, toothy grin.

His arms fell to his sides with a sag of his posture, then he snatched the knife from your hand and sat next to you, etching his initials under yours.

'It's home now,' You told him.

Was home.

A week later, you were folding clothes on the couch and humming quietly; it seemed silly, sure. Worrying about wrinkle-free laundry amidst the apocalypse, but there was a sense of normalcy behind it. And with the area being quiet for seven days straight, you found peace. Joel had felt it, too. All he knew for the last decade was surviving and not living. So now that he had a chance to live again, well, maybe it wasn't all so bad. Perhaps you were the one who helped him see that; you always were good at keeping him grounded. It's like all the weight that accumulated atop his shoulders had finally lifted. He didn't need anything else as long as you were by his side.

He sauntered up behind you, thick arms coming over your shoulders as he pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek, making your shoulders rise while you grasped one of his hands, thumb brushing over a knuckle. One thing led to another: Mouths feed off each other, share a breath, and let passion take over while you embrace each other in a horizontal dance, bodies pressed closely together with hands gripping and pulling in the guidance of transferred intimacy before falling asleep in the other's arms, legs tangled together. Morning followed, and the two of you watched the sunrise from the solace of the blankets.

Joel wants to go back to that.

Two months later, while preparing a stew for lunch and waiting for Joel to return from the woods, a hand slaps over your mouth and pulls you back. The spoon in your grasp clatters to the floor, and you flail around, elbowing the body behind you and clawing at the hand you didn't recognize. From what you gathered based on the low, rumbling laugh emanating out of their chest, it was a man. And it certainly wasn't Joel. Then, another man slinked out from the corner, eyes narrowed and raking over your figure with a malicious, open-mouthed smirk.

“We came here to see if we’d find anything good to eat,” he calmly explained as he inched closer and closer to you.

“Didn’t think we’d get a prize at the bottom of the box, too.”

Before you knew it, you were pinned to the ground, arms tight behind your back, and face pressed into the cold floor. You yelled and thrashed about, struggling against the weight leering over you. The second man looked at you with a mock look of sympathy, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout before kneeling. His finger, caked with dirt and grime, gently brushed your cheek, making you recoil in disgust.

Joel shook his head at the memory.

He had heard your bloodcurdling yell, screaming out his name, and in an instant, he dropped everything and sprinted back to the house with his gun unholstered. The door swung open, slamming against the wall with great force, causing the knob to leave a dent in the vinyl. All he saw was you, pinned and helpless, with tears spilling from the corners of your eyes and another man with his belt undone. He didn't have to think about what he’d do next.

Did he take it too far? No, not in his mind.

You had heard of the Joel who gave his brother nightmares, the man who was ruthless, cold, and unforgiving. However, you didn't think you'd see it. Your knees were hugged to your chest, lips parted with shaky breaths as you stared wide-eyed at the tall, brooding man.

The adrenaline wore off, and he dropped the knife he didn't even remember grabbing. It fell to the ground with a thud, muted by a pool of crimson on the flooring, the wood stained with a different finish. He looked at you, saw the apprehension in your eyes, and that's when he looked down at himself and noticed the blood that soaked his hands and freckled the fabric of his clothes.

“Baby,” he hushed out and moved to console you, but you backed yourself further into the low cupboards with a flinch.

You've never flinched at him.

His heart dropped deep into his stomach, and he carefully retreated, not wanting to scare you further. Joel looked away, down at the bodies that were no longer identifiable. Faces bashed in by his own bare hands; his fists clenched, and he was now painfully aware of the sharp pain in his knuckles. He moved again, just a simple shift of his feet, and you let out a startled, choked whimper. That's when it truly sank in. You were scared of him, and he couldn't lie; it fucking hurt. But hell, he couldn't blame you for it.

Sometimes, he was scared of himself, too.

Joel would never forget how you looked at him. Like he were some wild animal, no better than the infected and somehow worse than the raiders. Maybe he wasn't any better. Maybe he was worse. Joel knows he's not a good man. When the time comes, he will be sitting directly on Satan’s lap, paying for his sins.

Old habits die hard, he supposed.

So now here he sat, a week after you left, finishing the dregs of his bottle as he watched the sky's orange begin to lighten. His lip curled, and he sucked air through his teeth before glancing down at his injured hands once more, flexing his fingers. Joel rose from the porch and went back inside, grabbing his bag and tentatively slinging it over his shoulder. When he stood out in the yard, he took one last look at the sky and exhaled a heavy sigh before returning to the woods, trying to erase you from his mind.

Something in the orange tells him you're never coming home.

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

i’ve had this idea (and like three others) stewing in my head forever now (none of them are happy). in case you haven’t heard this song and would like to get your heartbroken like i did the first time i heard it, have at it! now we can cry and think about joel together <3

as always, if you enjoyed this fic and like to pass your sorrows on to someone else, give this a reblog and/or tell me your thoughts! i love feedback and haven’t wrote angst like this in a hot minute lol.

[somber-sapphic]

If You Can't Handle The Heat

〖Notes: I wrote this because I almost passed out yesterday. Oops. Also, it's been years since I played baseball so please excuse me if I messed up on any rules. Also pt 2 I'm writing this at 2 am so it's probably not great.〗

〖Summary: You and the heat are not the best of friends.〗

〖Word Count: 1296 〗

〖Pairing: wandanat x reader〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

For some damn reason, Steve had decided that the Avengers needed to bond. Maybe it had been the mild infighting, or the fact that you had thrown a metal pot at Tony’s head (he deserved it) but he had declared it, and Tony, still nursing a minor head injury, had agreed. For the ‘bonding experience,’ the men had chosen baseball. 

Why baseball? Who knows. Perhaps it was the overly American of the sport nature which Steve thrived on, it could also have had something to do with Tony’s wish to wack something with a bat. In all reality, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that now you all had to play the game and you were cooking in the sun. 

The day wasn’t going to get a record for heat or anything, it was only about 80°F but you weren’t drinking enough water and the temperature was getting to you. 

You had never been particularly good at handling hot temperatures, but you had hoped it wouldn’t be an issue. In your mind, you should be able to handle it. Everyone else was fine, Steve still even had his shirt on. They were all sweating lightly, but no one looked as uncomfortable as you felt. In fact, they seemed to be enjoying themselves. 

You stood up and took a sharp breath, blinking rapidly to keep yourself from falling over. You leaned against a tree and Wanda touched the back of your thigh, giving you a concerned look. Her beautiful chocolate eyes sparkled in the sun, hinting at the wisdom and mystery behind the orbs. You just smiled, trying to assure her that everything was okay. 

Wanda was the only one who wasn’t playing, she had flat-out refused. There was just no arguing with the witch when she had made up her mind, and the look on her face when she had said that she was ‘not playing this stupid American game’ she meant it. She would not be participating. 

So instead, the beautiful witch was sitting on a picnic blanket guarding the waters and keeping score. She would cheer whenever a ball got hit, but she didn’t seem to be paying much attention. No one really minded, they had all gotten into the game. 

 Natasha was ahead of you to bat, muttering to herself about how she was going to kick everyone’s asses and other such obscenities. To be fair, she had the highest batting average according to Wanda’s surprisingly detailed piece of paper. 

It was a surprise when she only made a single, hitting the ball almost directly back into Bruce’s mitt. Her annoyance was clear in the way that she glared at the ground, and you, expression that of pure rage. Your girlfriend didn’t handle losing well. That’s why she didn’t lose.

You pulled yourself up to the plate, picking up the bat with heavy limbs. It felt like it weighed a million pounds, the leather grip hot in your hands. You settled into your position, hands choked up on the bat while you stared at Bruce who was ready to throw the ball. 

It felt like the world was moving in slow motion as if you were swimming through a pool of corn syrup every muscle working overtime to go at half of the speed. 

You put every ounce of force behind your swing and the ball connected with a loud crack. Natasha’s face lit up and she turned to run as you threw the bat, springing forward with your eyes set on first base. 

You had barely made it three steps in when your entire body began to tingle. The feeling of a thousand ants crawling across your skin wasn't enough, it came with incredible fatigue and the loss of vision around the edges. You could feel yourself losing consciousness, but you continued to run, desperate to keep your teams lead. 

As you rounded first base, your limbs turned to jelly, and the darkness in the corners of your eyes became a haze that engulfed everything you could see.

You knew that you were slowing down, but you tried to continue forward, even as your knees buckled and your head bounced against the sand of the baseball diamond. It was only when you found yourself fully splayed out on the ground did you realize that you were falling unconscious. 

Your vision continued to dim as cries of your name filled your tinny ears. Oh well, you had given it your best shot. Now at least you could get out of the heat. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Hey, there she is. Open those eyes, pretty girl.” A soft voice coaxed, pulling you out of stuffy darkness. You whined softly and wrinkled your nose, an overwhelming sense of cold suddenly washing over you. Why were you so cold? It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t overly uncomfortable, just cold. 

Determined to discover the source of the inherent lack of heat, you opened your eyes to find yourself staring up at a terrified-looking Wanda and Natasha who was clearly trying to mask her worry. She wasn’t doing very well. 

“Mmm…” You groaned, your entire body aching in protest. Everything hurt, even your eyelids hurt. Parts of your body that you weren’t aware existed hurt. Your ears throbbed, increasing the pain in your throbbing head. 

“Hi Y/n, do you remember what happened?” Natasha asked gently, reaching over to card her fingers through your damp hair. 

“Why’m’I wet?” You slurred, too tired to move enough to sit up or rollover. Your body was actively working against you and you really weren’t enjoying it. Not that anyone would, but it was particularly frustrating for someone who always needed to be in control. 

“You had a temperature of 106°F, you passed out. We got you to medical and put you in an ice bath to cool you back down. Baby, you really scared us.” Wanda whispered, her voice breaking slightly on her emotion. Natasha was blinking back tears, sniffling quietly as she tried to pretend like she wasn’t about to break down. 

Now that it had been mentioned, you recognized the medbay. There was an IV in your arm, presumably administering fluids, and you were most definitely not in your bed. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t your room. 

“Why do’I feel like I got h’t by a bus?” You mumbled, already ready to go back to sleep. You simply had no energy. 

“Well, heatstroke tends to do that. You could’ve died. You keep almost dying, do you know how scary that is?” Natasha demanded, shifting onto the cot so that she was spooning you. It had apparently been determined that you had cooled down enough to be cuddled. 

“Mhm.” You grunted, too tired to say anything. You reached out with a limp arm and fumbled for Wanda, pulling her over so that she was on your other side. 

“This is serious, we can’t just brush past it! You have to take care of yourself, it’s getting dangerous!” The witch insisted, laying stiffly beside you. It wasn’t like she was wrong, it was just that you didn’t care enough. You could care later when it didn’t feel like you had been burnt alive and rehydrated. 

“Wands, just let her rest for now. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” Natasha sighed, reaching across you to lay a hand on her waist. She hummed her disapproval but relaxed and laid her head against your chest. 

You heard the redhead say something about having a few more hours left until something, but you were already falling asleep. It didn’t matter anyways, they’d take care of it. For now, you’d just sleep. Sleep, and figure out what was going on later. Wanda and Natasha would make sure that everything happened as it was supposed to, they always did. 

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[ashascoven]

☽ ✯ venture x witch! reader pt. 3! ✯ ☾

✯ welcome back everyone, to part three!!! (here is part one, and part two!)

✯ sorry for this taking so long, my mind has been brainrotting with valorant and roblox i cant lie...

✯ i was also a bit stuck on how i wanted to go about this... but every like has just been more motivation to keep trying to continue this, so thank you <3

✯ hope there's people out there enjoying this, happy reading!!!

☆ FANFIC DEETS! venturexreader ☆

reader is a female who practices witchcraft! i wrote her that way because i also am a witch irl! :,)

VERY lengthy build-up fanfic (LOTS of reading.. i type a lot i think?)

venture is referred to as sloan <3

lifeweaver is besties with the reader, referred to as niran!

everything related to witchcraft here may be exaggerated / inaccurate for fanfic purposes.. but i tried writing it all into an experience > just reading!!

eventual ritual smut....

feel free to hmu, hope u enjoy :D

“IM HOOOMMEEEE, MII AMOOORR~!!!! ⊂( ´ ▽ ` )⊃”

You gritted you teeth at the rock muncher that just busted through the front door, their hand happily waving in the air at you.

You shook your head and took a visible breath, cracking your knuckles.

“please, excuse me niran.”

“mhm! take all of the time you nee-”

“AAAOOOOWWWWW!!!! IM SORRYY!!! WHY ARE YOU HITTING ME?!? I THOUGHT YOU'D MISS ME??!??? (>д<)”

“WHY DID YOU STEAL MY JARS THIS MORNING??!? WHAT DID YOU EVEN DO WITH THEM??!? HUH????”

“I ONLY USED ONE FOR YOUR FOOD EARLIER I SWEA- AAHHHHHH MI AMOR PLEASE!!!!!! HAVE MERCY!!!! ヽ(￣д￣;)ノ”

“mercy? haha, i’m sure angela would react the same if it were her and her morning tea being stolen~ (＾◡＾)” Niran chuckled, taking a sip of his.

He watched as you had Sloan on the floor in a chokehold, their bag and drill frantically thrown to the side of the doorway.

Their hands were desperately trying to pull yours off of their neck, but you didn't budge. 

You looked down at them with murder in your eyes, fully prepared to make them beg for their life.

“tell me where the rest of my jars are.”

“y/n.. please, have mercy-..” 

They were starting to turn red, eyes squinting in extreme discomfort as they practically wiggled under your freakishly strong grasp on them.

Were they into this or not? They couldn't tell, but they definitely weren't being let off easily.

“you tell me what you took my waters for, where they are, and what made you not consider just ASKING me.. and MAYBE i wont boil you into a cauldron stew."

“mi a-amor-”

“WHERE ARE THEY, SLOAN.”

“i c-can explain if yo-”

“I WON'T HESITATE TO TURN YOU INTO BONE MEAL FOR THE PLANTS!!!! SPIT IT OUT!!”

“w-wait that'd actually be-”

“be WHAT?”

You suddenly loosened your grip on their neck, moving your hands up to holding their face and staring at them with a frown.

“..aweeesoomme◝(⁰▿⁰)◜???”

“...”

“listen, i know it prooobaablyy looked bad, b-but i promise i didn't mean any..”

You slowly leaned down towards their ear and pushed aside their headset, making them trail off from their words. 

“no, you listen to me.”

You spoke in a low tone, earning a nervous gulp in response. 

The excavator’s entire body shivered at the way your voice rang through their skull, cooing to them like a gentle warning that they were dead meat the split second Niran left.

“i was in the middle of doing a tarot reading for niran before you came home, and i need to go finish that up for him.”

“when im done, you better have prayed to every god you know.. because when i get to you, sloan cameron..”

You leaned closer, lowering into a whisper.

“you're gonna be begging for forgiveness.”

With that, you got up and made your way back to the kitchen, dusting the dirt from Sloan's clothes off of your own.

They, on the other hand, stayed on the floor for a minute with wide eyes, breath hitched in their throat, trying to process how they wanted to feel about what you just did.

Yeah, they did essentially steal from you with no explanation, and you seemed reasonably mad at them for it, but why was their face burning?

“niran, i am so sorry about that.. interruption.” You rubbed your forehead, taking a seat across from him again.

“no worries! you can always take the time you need, i’m never in a hurry anyway.”

“thank you.. gosh, you're always so kind and patient with everything, i dunno how you do it.”

It was your turn to lean on the table with your face in hand, glancing over at the phased out sloan still sitting by the door.

“hah, if i’m being honest, i’m not sure either.”

He shrugged his shoulders, reaching down to pet the raccoon and possum that were now rubbing against his leg.

“i just approach everything with a- uh.. pardon me, but are they supposed to be doing.. that?”

Niran tilted his head, pointing at Sloan. They seemed to be standing near an altar of yours, one of your salt lamps about to.. enter their mouth.

“hu- SLOAN, YOU PUT MY LAMP DOWN RIGHT NOW! |･д･)ﾉ”

They quickly set it down in embarrassment like a child getting caught doing something they're not supposed to. How they got up so quickly and found the covered lamp on one of your altars was unknown to you.

“sorry..! forgot again- and heey niran! sorry for not saying it earlier.. (⇀‸↼‶)”

They rubbed the back of their neck in shame, looking at the floor.

Whenever they felt bad about something, their go-to was munching at.. questionable things. A lot of times, they won't even realize they're doing it, and that's how lots of your things go missing.

“hello!- (٥⁀▽⁀ )／”

“..ahem! anywho.”

“mhm?”

“niran, do you feel like my reading resonated with you?”

“hmm.” He took the last sip of his tea before setting it down.

“i do feel as if.. it resonates, but not for me.”

“oh?” You raised a brow.

“rather.. y/n, don't you think it all sounded very familiar?”

“eh? really? how.. so?”

He gestured towards your lover, who was nervously fidgeting at the door, seemingly waiting for you. 

It looked like it took every bone in their body to not pick your lamp back up again and start biting.

“wh.. what do you mean? i don't think my partners.. stupid, they're very smart for the work they do…?” 

You hadn’t picked up on it somehow, your mind defaulting to showing off your lover to others.. even though you had just.. threatened said lover.

“no, my friend, what was your answer to my question earlier?”

“about how i was doing?.. uhh..?? i don- oh… oh.”

You turned in your seat and looked back at Sloan, who had caved and started biting at the lamp.

You could see them stop to ‘shush’ the bugs in their respective jars on your altar, not wanting them to tattle for what they were witnessing.

If anything, thank goddesses it was the lamp being eaten and not.. the bugs themselves.

“damn, i must've really made em’ scared huh.”

You both kept watching, but they didn't notice their audience yet, too nervously deep into their comforting eating session.

“it's normal, but i'm not sure about the salt-eating thing though..”

“yeah.. i’ve got to sign them up for that strange addiction tv show sometime.”

“agreed. ( ❛ᴗ❛ )”

“but anyway, ya know.. you're entirely right, it makes a lot of sense.” You ran a hand through your hair with a sigh.

“well, don't forget to give yourself most of the credit, y/n.. you were the one who read the cards after all! i’m impressed!”

“ahh, thank you, but? doesn't that mean i basically.. did that reading on myself? what about you?”

“don't worry about me, I'm quite content with what we've learned today~”

“hmmmmm… you.. sure?” 

“mhm! if you truly are worried about the results of this reading, then can i ask you to do some other things for me instead?”

“oh? of course! what is it?”

“for starters, i think you should.. remember to be more patient with yourself.. and them.” He nudged his head towards Sloan’s direction.

“i fully believe that you two thrive together as a couple, so conflicts, like mentioned in your reading, shouldn't push you two apart.”

“i.. see.” You turned around to look at them again, your eyes squinting at the way your lamp was now half-way gone and probably in their stomach.

“yup! there truly is no rush to every little thing in life.. it's best enjoyed when you bask into each ray of light for how bright they really are, not for how bask-worthy you were expecting, right?”

“pshh, it's like i’m the one being soul read now,” you jokingly rolled your eyes, “but gosh, you're so right.”

“hmph, do i really just.. expect too much of them? like in your honest opinion, am i too.. harsh..?”

“from what i’ve seen, no. your current frustration is valid, given how this has never happened before. it seems right to be confused.. to want answers.. but, would you say you trust them?”

“huh? oh of course i do, why wouldn't i?”

“i think you should keep at that. have they ever wronged you?”

“outside of.. being the reason i could never keep ingredients for spells in the house.. no?”

“then, you should help their flowers flourish, even if you're not sure what seeds they've planted yet.”

“ah.. i definitely get what you're saying.”

“yes?”

“to be more patient and open-minded of them right now, and get back at them with a really well-thought out ritual later! maybe ill even get my witchy ancestors onto them? (っ˘ω˘ς )” You grinned, jokingly plotting your partner’s karma.

“..sure. (¯▿¯)”

“thank you a lot niran.. if you weren't here, i probably would've strangled them to death already.”

“HEY! THAT WOULDN'T BE A NICE WAY TO DIE THOUGH! ( `ε´ )”

“SHUT IT, LAMP EATER! ლ(¯ロ¯"ლ)”

“ahem, seriously, thank you a ton. your words will definitely be kept in mind when i.. deal with that knucklehead.”

Cartoon-like sparkles and hearts practically radiated off of you as you innocently thanked Niran.

You smiled happily, knowing good and well what you were planning for your lover when he left.

“of course, y/n! anytime you need something, i’m a phone call away! i trust that you'll take care of your partner just fine~ (ง ื▿ ื)ว”

Getting up and clasping his hands together, he took his cup to the sink. He tried to wash it, but you shoo’ed him away with a ‘nono, i got it, you're good!’

“thank you.. with that being said.. i’m afraid it's actually time for me to go. i have my own flower awaiting me at home, but it was a lovely morning spent with you! (⌒ω⌒)”

He made his way to the door, patting Sloan’s head before putting his sandals back on.

“likewise! thank you for this, really.” 

You followed him, casually whacking your partner in the head and earning a ‘hey! >:(‘ out of them.

“of course! send me those love spell recipes for my bap when you get a chance, yah? (¬‿¬ )”

“only if you tell me how they work out for you two! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ”

You waved as he headed out with his umbrella, shooting you a thumbs-up before leaving.

“w-whew! it's a niiiccee raiinyy day, isn't it??!? i h-hope you two had a nice morni-”

“sloan.”

“i- u-uh-.. hiiii..yaaa? :,D”

“sloan cameron.”

“..im so fucked.”

“soo,” you had to remind yourself to be easy on Sloan with a heavy sigh, “..did youu.. take my jars of moon water to work?”

“y-yeah-”

“and.. did you bring them back?”

“s..sorta?-”

“SORTA?”

“i m-mean, i did! i brought them back but-”

“..but what?”

You caught yourself and sighed.

“sorry.. it's just? i’ve been stressed out almost all morning about this.. i’ve been curing those for like, three years now, every full moon, non-stop.”

You paced around in front of them, twiddling your hands in your own frantics of their responses.

“you-.. three years??!?”

“yes??? i've told you this over and over.. why do you think i’m so worked up over this?” You stood in front of them with crossed arms, eyeing them over.

“oh my god- i-?!?” They wrapped their arms around you.

“i'm s-so sorry for using some of it for your food this morning mi amor..! believe me, i w-wouldn't have even touched them if i had remembered! ugh, stupid sloan.. stupid me! the one time i try to change things up and it jus-”

They pulled away to cover their face in guilt, on the verge of crying and pleading to make it up to you, but you stopped them in their thoughts, it being your turn to hug them.

“it's okay, baby. just.. don't sweat it, it's the thought that counts.” You ignored your eye twitching, your arms around them unconsciously getting a bit tighter.

They felt themselves melt into the tight hold of your arms, their nerves starting to wash away in relief that you weren't angry at them. 

Their emotions almost hit them all at once like a bulldozer.

“i shouldn't have touched your things in the first place… i-i just thought you'd trust me and I could do something to make you happ-"

“sloan, it's okay, ya know? whatever it is you did with those jars, just…” you suppressed your eye twitches, trying so hard to not think about the dedication you put into some water, “i-its no biggie, you're good, i still love you.”

“man, i love you too.. i reeaallyy don't deserve you, mi vida..” They let themselves lean even more into your hold, the both of you hugging each other for a quiet minute.

The tension slowly going away between you two was nice, and you once again wished you could hold Sloan like this forever.

“oh! right!!! i still should uh-! s-show you what i used them for, since they're not actually gone or anything!” They suddenly pulled away, shuffling in their giant pockets.

“i dunno if i did it right.. or if it's silly? b-but i figured uh.. try my hands at charging some freshly mined crystals for you this time! (つ≧▽≦)つ” 

They guided you to the kitchen, pulling out the jars from their pockets and placing them on the dining table.

“o-oh?!? woah! they're..??!? still covered and everything, hello!??” You covered your mouth in surprise, not actually expecting to see the jars again.

“y-yeah! i didn't even know you kept them for so long but i.. i knew it was important that the sunlight didn't touch them, so i thought it'd be.. nice if i gave you these beauties with all of the energy from the water poured into them already! that's.. how that works right..?”

“awwwhh, slooann..!!” You gushed, the smile on your face already hurting your cheeks.

“l-listen! it's probably better when you do it, since you have those magical witchy hands n’ stuff.. but i wanted to show you how cool i think you are by taking after what you do!! if it's.. weird or anything though, then uh.. ill jus- mph!”

You cut them off with your lips against theirs, holding their face and letting the wave of relieved honor take over your body.

The fluttering in your chest was from realizing how much thought they were putting into these little gifts for you, and it helped wipe away any lingering frustrations you previously had with them.

You tried not to dwell on your own rightful confused anger with feeling bad, clinging to the advice Niran gave you.

It was better to just focus on what things really were right now, and this? This wasn't a case purely of stealing or foolishness, it was just Sloan trying to do something meaningful for you.

It was already sweet that they brought back raw crystals for you from work all the time simply because they knew you liked them, not to mention how expensive and hard they are to acquire normally.. 

But, to actually try and charge and cleanse them for you too? 

Trying to replicate what they've watched you do with gemstones and water before?

They might as well have proposed on the spot.

You pulled away, wrapping your arms around their neck and kissing all over their face.

“i take back everything i said, muah, i’m sorry for being mad at you, muah, i love you so much, mwuah muah, thank you, mwuah~ (づ￣ ³￣)づ”

“so worth it~.. ⊂(￣▽￣)⊃” was all they managed to get out, their eyes practically swirling at all of your kisses.

With one last ‘mwuah!’, you ruffled their hair and went to checking the jars that made it back home.

“oh my goshh, you found citrine??”

“ooh, there's some amethyst here too!”

“wahh, selenite?!!? gosh, you're spoiling me, sloan! ~(˘▽˘)~”

You excitedly inspected the glasses, raising them above your head to look inside of the dark jars without removing their coverings.

Sloan stood there proudly, their hands on their hips and a cheesy grin on their face. They were so relieved that you weren't mad at them.

“i’m glad you like them!! :D, there's some more in my bag for you, ya know, the usual~ (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧”

“aawwhh, thank you baby! i’m so so so sorry i was even mad at you at all (*_ _)人” 

You buried your face into their chest, wrapping your arms around them again.

“nono, IM sorry i made you worry like that,” they kissed your forehead, “i really should've just asked you first and.. maaayybee do this without.. OH! THAT REMINDS ME, BABY LOOK!!”

They reached in their pocket with one hand, the other still holding you back by the waist, and pulled out one last jar.

“you totally aren't gonna be ready for THIS one!!”

Something about this made you feel uneasy in the moment, but you swallowed Niran’s words once more, trusting in your partner.

“BEHOLD, SLOAN’S SPECIALLY SUPER CHARGED JAR OF CELES..stine?”

They whipped out the glass of what was supposed to have the blue crystal in it, expecting it to be a glorious reveal… but, it was just strangely darker than the rest of the covered jars.

“huh, guess it's just.. a bit more shyer than the other rocks?” They tilted their head, letting go of you to gently knock at the jar. You watched with another jar in hand, ready to compare the two.

“heeelloooo? any celestine hoomee? hmph, i can definitely feel it in there though..” They held it to the ceiling and practically pressed their eyeball against the glass.

“it's like it's not in there.. but, it feels like it is?!” They swished around the jar, deciding to place it on the table with another ‘hmm..’

“maybe it's the cloth? let's just.. go ahead and pull that off then!”

“wait- sloan no it’ll toucH THE SUNLIGH-”

You tried to stop them, but their hands were already quick to remove the clothed lid and reveal the stone.

“wait shit no i’m so sorry i didn't me-”

“wooaahh..” You gasped and picked up the jar, mesmerized by the piece of celestine. 

It glimmered in such a way that you've never seen before, making you immediately forget about the actual water around it touching sunlight.

“it's.. it's beautiful, sloan..” You held it up to eye level, your eyes sparkling at the glittery gemstone before you.

“h-how’d you even.. find something like this? it's.. like it's glowing~..” It had you hypnotized, struggling to take your eyes off of it.

“i.. uhh.. surprise..??” They were also lost in the stone, the way it shimmered all sorts of colors and lights in the water seemed like magic. It wasn't this glamorous when they had found it.

“here sloan, look at it! did you.. really find this.. for me?”

You quickly shoved the jar into their hands, puppy eyeing at them for bringing you something so beautiful.

“o-of course, mi amor! it's my proudest find for you so far, so it's-” They froze, both of your eyes widening at the stone.

It felt like it all happened in slow motion, the way you both stopped to stare at what was happening in the glass.

The piece of celestine was… dissolving.

“wh- huh?? wait noo- this- this isn't good- w-why is it.. melting??!?”

The split second they had started holding it, the crystal dissipated. 

In a natural panic, they quickly placed it back on the counter, the water in the jar now being misty and clouded.

“hmm.. celestine isn't meant to rest in water but… it hasn't been that long since you put it in there, right?”

“l-like, only an hour or two, yeah?! b-but.. something feels weird..!” They started holding their own face in a panic, panting.

“it shouldn't have dissolved that quickly the- wait, are you okay?!? should I call someone??!”

“y/n.. i-i. i don't know! something'sdefinitelywrongandmystomachfeels-”

They suddenly covered their mouth, slowly looking at you with wide eyes.

“..’feels’? feels WHAT??, baby?!!? what's wrong??”

You joined in on their panic, bringing them close.

They tried holding a finger up, only to push you away and dash to a trash can, scurrying back to you with it in hand..

Then, they hovered over it.

“bleurg- ☁️💨”

“h-holy shit, sloan?? eurgh, sloan?!?!?”

As soon as they tried vomiting, the whole kitchen was smoked out in an instant, leaving you coughing and desperately swatting at the heavy air.

After about 10 seconds, the smoke started going away, revealing to you a trash can with.. no Sloan to be found.

“wh.. what..? even happened..?? where's-” You stopped yourself, something telling you to check the trash can.

Peering inside, you saw them.

Sloan was inside of the trash can, hand-sized, looking up at you. (・u・)

“o-oh.. my god.”

✯ if you've made it this far, tysm for reading again!

✯ im planning on proofreading and rewriting the other parts (again, and if im motivated enough), but how would yall feel about me posting little drabbles here and there?

✯ feel free to hit my line abt it, or anything in general, i dont bite ! >:)

✯ the link for part 4 will go here soon, and here are the borders used!

✯ enjoy your day/night! stay hydrated, love venture.. LOVE THE SILLY!! <3

[husbandograveyard]

Hazel hello! i see you’ve been having so much fun with JJK and your reactions to certain events makes for a good laugh. season 2 is gonna be a doozy

if i may feed the brain rot, may i ask for Ieri Shoko for the pillow talk event with prompts 2, 14, and 17?

thank you and have a great day <3

Alex!~ I am so happy with the JJK thingies. S2 was a huge doozy, I am still reeling hahah. I should really get to reading the manga soon. Also big props to you for picking Shoko! I love her and had quite a lot of fun writing this :3 I hope you enjoy <3

☁️ Pillow talk event - Masterlist ☁️

Prompt: “Does it also feel awkward for you now?” “A little bit.” Character: Ieiri Shoko (JJK) x GN reader (no pronouns or genitals mentioned)

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ Suggestive content | Minors DNI | Friends to lovers? maybe? ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Friends ought to stay friends; no matter how attractive they find each other, right? 

That was what you thought anyway, and that was somewhat of a rule you abided by. You had plenty of attractive friends, you weren’t stupid, you had eyes. And you saw them get flirted with loads of times too. Especially your classmates: Suguru, Satoru, Shoko… three insanely attractive people, each with their unique charm. 

There were brief moments of attraction you had towards Shoko specifically. You would never try and pursue her, she didn’t seem to be the type to date much, anyway, and you valued your friendship too much to act on just some attraction, even though it sometimes took over your entire body. 

It didn’t matter that when she looked at you with tired eyes and a lazy grin, your heart skipped a beat. Or that you smelled her subtle perfume as you helped her get home after a night where she had one too many drinks. She had looked at you with a rosy blush on her cheeks, eyes glazed over a little… it was all too much. But you hadn’t done anything, had kept your mouth shut. Like a good friend should. 

So why you didn’t stop today, as she leaned in just a little too close, was a mystery to you. You hadn’t stopped your lips from touching hers, you didn’t stop when they moved in sync, you didn’t move when you stumbled into your room, clothes discarded quickly in disorganized piles as you didn’t stop your hands from exploring all over her body, leaning into her touches as well. 

It was more than an hour later when you were finally done, the afterglow fading away as you heard Shoko sit up to find her purse somewhere, in pursuit of her pack of cigarettes. You watched her do so, feeling guilty about not stopping yourself earlier, but mostly catching yourself admiring her naked frame as she bent over and retrieved the cigarettes and lighter from her purse. 

You wanted to say something, anything to break the silence. You hadn’t talked about this, about possible feelings. You didn’t know if she had any feelings for you. Was this just a one time thing? Would this change your friendship? 

Your thoughts were interrupted by Shoko grabbing your bathrobe and putting it on, then cracking open a window so she could blow the smoke out. You pulled up a blanket not to be cold, feeling suddenly extremely naked and vulnerable now her body was covered up. 

“Does it also feel awkward for you now?” 

You spoke up, unable to bear the tension any longer. She didn’t reply immediately, only adding to the tension. Instead, she took another draw of her cigarette, smoke escaping from her lips as she spoke. 

“A little bit.” 

“So… what now?” 

“That is up to us to decide, no? Do we want more of this?” 

You sighed, thinking for a bit before deciding that it was now or never.” “I do.”

[elgatt0]

@dragkbluire OMG how I love this art, it inspired me to write this lil horror fic :3

I hope you enjoy ^^

Ao3

=================================

Warning for horror

=================================

Legend pov

“A little louder, please. I don’t think the guests below have woken up yet.”

Breathing stops with his agitated footsteps. Cold sweat runs down his spine, and the bastard has the audacity to look at me surprised that I woke up. I could not even sleep to begin with-- a horse with iron hooves is quieter.

“I thought you were sleeping…” I feel my neck crack as I turn my head to face him. My eyes bore into his with all the anger and disbelief that exhaustion allows me. No words need to be said: the “really?!” is so obvious in my eyes that I can almost feel the pride emanating from the old man, even though he is rooms away.

“I’m sorry…” he whispers, looking away embarrassed, and returns to sit on the bed on the opposite side of the room. I turn my eyes to the ceiling, silently asking the gods what I did to deserve this. I hear him breathing slowly in a futile attempt to calm down, but I know this moment of peace won’t last. After all, it’s the fifth time he’s done this, and the night has barely begun.

Why so much fuss? Was he worried about others? It would make sense for the damn mother cucco that he is, but I feel like that’s not it. Since we got here, he has not really seemed interested in anyone… not even himself. It was like the smith said-- he seemed a bit off, so much so that he did not even take off his layers to rest. The battle is over…

Or maybe not.

Now it is my turn to breathe to calm down. If I opened my mouth at this moment, nothing good would come out. I close my eyes. The idea of trying to sleep and ignoring everything is tempting, but worry screams in my head and hammers at my heart. I feel like something very bad is going to happen, and the guilt would never let me rest.

A strange silence reigned in the room. Perhaps it had only been a few seconds, but the stagnation of sound distorted time, giving the sensation that hours had passed. I sit up slowly: the creaking of the bed makes time and sound flow again. I don’t look at him, not yet, but I feel like my action has made him uneasy again. But why?

"Rancher…"

"No"

"Common man…"

"It is none of your business…"

“Then I will make it be”

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I close my eyes once again. My bones ache, my wounds burn, bruises marking both body and soul are my souvenirs from today’s battle. Every movement is slow, every word heavy on my tongue, and the desperation to rest grows stronger, but I can not give up, not yet.

Guided by courage, I slowly turn in bed, placing my feet on the floor, facing him once again. But apparently, he finds the floor more fascinating at the moment.

“Please… no… not now,” my mood sours as usual. I think about responding, but I realize that these words were not directed at me. It is as if he is talking to himself, begging… for something… or someone. Once again, I am not here, not for him.

A wave of worry extinguishes the flames of exhaustion. He is not well, and I do not know how to help. I am not good at comforting people… My words are deaf to him... it is agonizing. I feel useless, and my heroic nature hates that. I want to comfort him with my touch, but a primitive instinct warns me: stay away. The only thing I can do now is wait, an uncertain and painful wait, as I watch my companion, my brother, succumb to the darkness in his mind.

I should get off my ass and go warn the others...it is the right thing to do, yes. The champion knows him better than I do, they have a story… or will have one? Time travel be damned.

"I-"

Creaks, whispers, and growls put me in a stupor, freezing my eyes on the rancher in front of me… or what should be him:

Embracing himself, nails cruelly dug into his arms, the crack of breaking bones harmonized in horror with the grinding of teeth that no longer seemed Hylian.

Black pulses emanated, taking with them the blood and soul, turning the skin pale, stealing the light that once had lived there.

The bones ripped through the skin, becoming more prominent, demonic, the thin line between man and beast slowly disappeared before me.

His empty eyes stared into mine, full of despair.

He finally gets up, his steps silent and calculated, in contrast to the heavy and noisy ones from before.

Slowly he advances, his eyes never leaving me, the melodic and morbid whispers getting louder the closer he gets. The temperature drops, my breathing becomes heavy, and the whispers are now deafening. I can not move…

Is cold…

Stop…

I can't move...

I can't move

I can't move I can't move

I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move moveI can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't move I can't MovEIcAn'tmOveIcAn'tMoveLcaN'tmOveIcan'TmoVeIcAn'tMovEIcan'TmOveIcan'tMoveIcAn'tMoVeLcaN'tmoVeIcan'tMoVeIcAn'tmoveICan'tMovEIcan'tmOveIcAn'tMovEIcaN'tmovE MovEIcAn'tmOveIcAn'tMoveLcaN'tmOveIcan'TmoVeIcAn'tMovEIcan'TmOveIcan'tMoveIcAn'tMoVeLcaN'tmoVeIcan'tMoVeIcAn'tmoveICan'tMovEIcan'tmOveIcAn'tMovEIcaN'tmovE MovEIcAn'tmOveIcAn'tMoveLcaN'tmOveIcan'TmoVeIcAn'tMovEIcan'TmOveIcan'tMoveIcAn'tMoVeLcaN'tmoVeIcan'tMoVeIcAn'tmoveICan'tMovEIcan'tmOveIcAn'tMovEIcaN'tmovEIcant

I CAN NOT MOVE

please…

someone…

help…me…

The mention of a smile is the last thing registered in my mind before I fall into darkness.

[introverted-imagineer]

Renegades (Part 2)

Warnings: Language, Violence, Religious Themes, Romantic Themes. 

‘You cannot ignore me forever, young one’ he said so philosophically. 

‘Yeah? Well I’ve been doing it for all these years so far’ I snarled back

‘And yet, you end up here, in this unhappy place, you can’t escape fate Y/N, it has come to you’

‘You aren’t real, you are an illusion, a ghost, a figment of my imagination’ I sternly retorted, more to convince myself more than anything.

‘People travel great lengths to find me Y/N, I see all, yet people do all to see me’

‘Then why don’t you go annoy those people’

‘Who are you talking to?’

My body jolted at the sudden interruption, abruptly sitting up to find Leif in the same spot as last night, only standing with a curious and concerned look on his face. ‘Nobody…just myself’ I whispered, burying myself into the blanket. I could sense Leif sitting there, that puzzled look of contemplation on his face. ‘I forgot you were there’ I mumbled, more to myself than Leif. I could hear him smirk at the comment. 

That was a rule when I was young…when he first started to appear. Mother put it down to the side effects of the flu…but his visits became more frequent as I grew older. Frightening as he was, his eyes sewn shut, his lips the colour of liquid tar, pale and hooded like a lost soul in the night. His presence however was never as petrifying as it seemed to others. Although nobody else seemed to be able to see him, my mother shook in her boots whenever she caught me talking to him. ‘You are not well Y/N, there is nobody there’ she would say soothingly, calmly brushing my hair back. Looking back though, I think she was more afraid of me than him. The rule was set in place when it became too frequent and too much for her. Never ever let anyone know anything. 

‘Are you going to kill me now?’ I whispered, my eyes averted to the floor so as to not look him in the eyes. That look of his, so painfully intriguing. It would be less troublesome to keep my eyes averted than to find myself encapsulated in his gaze. I could see his feet freeze in place as his feet pivoted in my direction. ‘I won’t’ he said under his breath to himself as he busied himself by adjusting the axe in his belt. It was comforting, even if he didn’t mean for me to hear, but that only applied to my existence confined within these walls. On the other side…that was a different story. 

‘Am I the only one left?’ I timidly questioned, my only ounce of protection being the blanket I desperately wrapped my body into. He took in a deep breath, one that encapsulated the whole of his body as it heavily moved up and down. He turned around as if offended by the question. ‘Maybe you should just focus on yourself’ he huffed as he reached for the door, slamming it shut behind him. The board jiggled behind him as I could hear the wooden plank slide back into the place where Mother Brynhorn had done before. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

I hated this place, I hated everything about it. From the windowless rooms that served more as torture chambers, to the mice that scuttled through the gaping holes in the stone-cracked walls, to the daily routine of silence and prayer that made one's knees cripple each day. But most of all, I hated the people. The evil, cruelness that radiated the walls. Christians, they called themselves, a people living truly under God’s rule. 

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.

Love, however, did not apply to farm girls who saw things that others could not… 

Outside this existence, I was just a daughter to a humble family. Christian, rural, a child amongst many. The youngest of brothers, a welcome blessing to my mother as she had said. Father had not too much to say on the matter of having a girl, but there was one thing that was undeniably true. Once I was born, my father barely ever touched my mother again. 

‘Danger comes to you my child’ 

‘Didn’t I just tell you to leave me alone’ I snarled as the poltergeist stood in the corner of the room. 

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, looking into my soul through his. He didn’t need eyes, he clearly had something more powerful. But as mother says…it’s not real. 

‘The God’s have sent me to you, it is no choice of mine, nor is it yours’ he murmured in a tone that sends shivers down my spine. 

‘Well you just tell the Go…’ I begun to lecture, before I looked up to see his presence disappear. A piercing screech scraped across the outside of the door making my teeth chatter. The door flung open to reveal Leif stood there, another man by his side watching over. 

‘You must come with me’ he sa himid quietly, a sensation of dread in his voice. I grounded my feet flat on the floor, clutching onto the lumpy mattress as I adamantly shook my head in disagreement. ‘you must’ he said, taking a step forward. I took in a deep gasp as anxiety and panic took over. Whimpers came out as I stuttered, pleading to be left alone. Dying alone in this room of starvation, cold, eaten alive by rats was more desirable than facing the Vikings on the other side of the door…their King in particular whose brief encounter was enough to haunt my dreams forever. I could hear Leif inhale a deep breath, his strong hand then clasping onto my upper arm, prying my body from its place, practically storming out the door and down the corridor. 

My terrified cries of pleas went unnoticed by the Greenlander, his counterparts loitered up and down the corridor, laughing at my cries of distress. Leif however had his gaze fixed upon the task at hand. Taking me to my death. 

I collapsed to the floor with a loud thud, the door to the grand hall slamming shut behind me as Leif took a step back from the large circle of Vikings stood in a circle around the ceremonial throne. My body shook as it collided with the cold wooden floor, my teeth sounding as they slammed together chattering as my chin shook. My state of despair was pleasing to the Vikings as they roared in laughter, downing sacramental wine as if it were water. A muffled shout sounded from the ceremonial throne. I slowly looked up to find Elder Aefentid tied to the seat, his mouth gagged by the ropes that usually rested around his waist. His look mirrored my petrified state.

‘Well, I didn’t expect to see you here young one’ that deep haunting voice taunted. The Vikings in the room went silent, standing to attention as the doors to the hall slammed shut. Every eye in the room was fixated on the man behind me. I kept my head down. 

His footsteps loud, paced forward incredibly slowly, coming closer and closer to me as I sat knelt on the floor with my eyes glued to the floor. I body jolted as a gentle brush of fingers danced on my head. His thick finger swirled the locks on top of my head, wrapping them around his finger. ‘And yet, here you are’ he noted, as if it were a grand performance. His body slammed to the ground, as he knelt next to me, clutching my neck within his palm, forcing me to look at Elder Aefentid. His petrified eyes looked back at mine. I let out a wail, letting out a deep cry. The King chuckled to himself, wrapping his other arm around my body, pulling my body into his embrace as he placed his lips upon my temple. ‘Shush, shush, shush’ he cried, performing to the spectators around him. His cruelness not escaping me. His grasp around my throat slightly tightened threateningly. ‘Tell us child, who is the man in the chair?’ He beseeched. Hot tears fell down my cheek as I tried to shake my head, but the King's hand held onto my neck rigidly, trapping my face where it was. His clutch tightened even more, stopping the already weak airflow from travelling to my lungs. ‘I will ask you again, who is the man in that chair?’

‘E..El…Elder Aefentid’ I choked out in a whisper. The King shook his head, his eyes averted to the ground, dissatisfied with the answer to the question he so desperately sought. ‘He is the leader here’ I whispered. The King's demeanour changed from one of dissatisfaction to genuine pleasure as his mouth broke into a grin, a deep laugh emitting from his stomach. The King stood from the floor, his hand unclasping from my throat, using my head to hoist his balance from the ground. The Vikings around him joined in with his laughter as the King paraded around the circle. ‘THIS MAN, A LEADER!’ He cried to his subjects. Their roars of laughter emitting even louder. However one stood apart from all the others, quiet, stone-faced, impassive. Leif Erikkson stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Canute walked up to the constricted man in the ceremonial throne. Elder Aefentid, yesterday a powerful malicious leader, today a prisoner in his own home. The King mockingly ripped the rope from Elder Aefentid’s mouth, his neck whiplashing at the speed and strength which he did. 

‘YOU VIKING SCUM, GOD WILL SEE TO IT YOU ALL ROT IN THE DEEPEST DEPTHS OF HELL’ he screamed, his throat slightly raspy in his delivery. The Viking King rounded the throne, looking undeterred by his verbal assault. The King stood there, leaning against the side of the throne, his arm extending, pointing his finger directly at me. ‘You speak old Norse, tell me what your leader said’ emphasising the term leader in a tone of disparagement. I could feel my jaw drop from beneath me, while my muscles clenched and my throat closed. ‘What. Did. He. Say?’ He demanded, taking a step forward between each word toward me. 

‘He urges you to seek Christ’ I retorted. The King seemed sinisterly pleased. ‘THIS MAN CLAIMS TO SERVE GOD’ he cried to the Vikings. This seemed to spark a different response. Instead of a roar of laughter, the Vikings responded in anger, grunting and yelling. The King walked toward Aefentid, reaching into his shirt, and pulling out a bejewelled crucifix tied to his neck. I could swear his eyes popped out of his skull at the thought of Christian Vikings. The King chuckled at Aefentid. ‘KING ÆTHELRED WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD FOR THIS’ he cried. 

At his threat, his attention was captured by everyone in the room, even Leif Erikson directed his gaze toward the bound man. ‘Æthelred’ The Viking King repeated, lowering his gaze to look directly into his prisoner's eyes. ‘What did he say child?’ His voice called, not breaking contact with Aefentid as they stared at one another. ‘H..he says the King will seek justice…’ I stuttered out. ‘FILTHY LITTLE VIKING BITCH’ Elder Aefentid cried, leaning to the side in order to catch my gaze, making sure his words penetrated my very soul. The Viking King turned around, all eyes in the room now directed at me as I sat on the ground in the middle of the room. ‘And?’ The Viking King questioned, his hands gesturing toward me. ‘He is displeased with me’ I whispered. 

The Viking King simply nodded, standing back up to his tall figure, grasping the rope from the ground, and shoving it violently back into Elder Aefentid’s mouth. ‘While I am displeased myself…’ he spoke, directing his gaze between Leif and me, his disappointment more directed at Leif. ‘Your speaking our language is very….opportune’ he said, scheming as he spoke. I could see out the corner of my eye Leif’s chest rise and fall deeply, whether it was out of relief or frustration I didn’t know. ‘Your life will be spared for now, you will spend your days helping me …refine my knowledge of the saxon language’ he said, wiggling his finger satisfied with his cunning plan. ‘But if you should be unsuccessful, or deceitful, you will suffer a fate worse than death’. His plan struck me to my core, I was a farmer's daughter, now a postulant, now a teacher to a Viking King. Which of the three was worse, I couldn’t be sure, but I was terrified at the thought of spending my days alone with the Viking King.  Elder Aefentid continued to scream profanities and muffled screams at the occupants of the room, but his cries went unnoticed by the Vikings as they busied themselves. Behind the throne, out of nowhere, he appeared again. The hooded figure stood solemnly beside the throne, unnoticed to everyone else, nodding his head at me. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

A new beginning had dawned on the Monastery. I was so used to silence, that even the sounds of people talking outside in the corridor put me on edge. I had not seen any of the sisters or brothers since Elder Aefentid sat in his mighty chair, only he was puny. 

I spent the days confined to my tiny windowless room. When the King demanded it, I was escorted to the Monks Library where the King required me to translate words, and passages and teach him to communicate in the Saxon language. So far, it had been fine, but The Viking King, Canute, made sure I knew what was at stake. He was always armed and made it known he had no issues punishing his property. I was still a servant, a prisoner, the only thing different being the man who demanded everything. 

It seemed an age the since the Vikings had first come. Some days it seemed there were more, other days less. The Viking’s clearly weren’t here for a sabbatical, nor to raid. The Monastery seemed however, a convenient stop in their greater plans. As time went on, their faces became more familiar. Sometimes they’d leave as a group for days, others would go individually. Leif Erikson seemed to have disappeared altogether…  

While King Canute had demanded I help him refine his knowledge of the Saxon language, from our first private meeting it seemed clear that he didn’t really need all that much help. His intention was unclear, but there was something sinister about his presence as if he were probing for something more valuable than language. As each session went by, the King was more curious about concerns of the Monastery, the fields around, and why nobody else seemed to live anywhere near here…how often travellers came through. I spent more time answering questions than I did teaching him anything. 

The King sat concentrating as he studied the symbols and texts of parchment that the Monks spent their days so delicately scribing. 

‘Tell me child, what is the relationship between your leader and King ÆTthelred?’ He asked cautiously. ‘I don’t know, the sisters aren’t allowed to converse with the brothers’ I muttered. The King turned around, coming back to sit at the grand table in the middle of the library. ‘What is your connection with the Saxon King?’ He probed. I almost wanted to chuckle at the absurdity of his question. ‘I don’t understand?’ I whispered, my shoulders tensing as his nostrils flared in an unsatisfied manner. ‘I mean, do you work for the King?’ He said, reaching his hand across the table, clutching my wrist and squeezing it tightly. I could feel the blood flow to my wrist stop, my wrist turning pale under Canute’s clutch. ‘He comes here for communion and spiritual cleansing occasionally…only the Monks have been in his presence’. His grip loosened, but the clutch on my wrist remained. ‘The Queen comes sometimes too, but only Mother Brynhorn is permitted to speak with her’ I exclaimed. ‘Who is his Queen?’ He questioned, his grip tightening again, cramping my hand. My fingers curled into themselves, rigid and stiff at the pain. ‘Queen Emma of Normandy’ I seethed out in pain between clenched teeth. 

His grip released as he smiled pleasingly to himself. ‘Normandy was founded by Vikings, did you know?’ He said more as a statement rather than a question. I shook my head. The truth was, I did know this as Elder Aefentid had cast cruel words at the Queen, but keeping this information withheld was likely to stop more questions and threats from King Canute. The King shot up from his seat, pushing the chair across the room behind him. 

The door slightly opened, and a familiar face crept in. As our gazes connected, it was evident the shock upon my face, as his at mine. Since the grand hall, Leif Erikson had seemingly disappeared.  Our concentrated stares were broken by Canute rising from his seat at the table. I stood to attention as the King’s chair scooted against the floor with a loud scrape. 

 ‘Ah, Leif Erikson, just in time, please take the prisoner back to her room’. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Leif Erikson spared no mercy in escorting me back to my small room. His hand clutched my arm as he strode two paces ahead of me as he walked down the corridor, dragging me alongside him. He constantly clutched the hilt of the axe on his belt. 

When we arrived at the boarding wing, Leif roughly opened the door, taking a look around to see the Vikings still watching him. He thrust me forward, shoving me onto the lumpy mattress. A few of the Vikings stood watching, chuckling to themselves as they prompted his vulgarity. ‘Good luck with that one Greenlander’ they called, lifting their goblets in a cheers motion, throwing a surreptitious suggestive wink in his direction. I could feel my heart beating fast, their euphemism did not escape me.   The Greenlander nodded his head, stepping into the room cautiously, and closing the door behind him. 

I scurried back on my hands, retreating into the corner of the room, clutching the bottom of my skirt so as to somehow create an extra layer between us. Leif took a deep breath, his eyes glancing up and down at me. His eyes captured mine, but his face showed no emotion. I could feel my body shake. He gently reached down, undoing the belt that sat around his waist, loosening it, and untying it slowly string by string until it came off. ‘P…please no….I….I….I’ve never’ I stammered. He lifted his eyebrow quizzically. As he took a step forward, I let out a yelp, closed my eyes, and cradled myself in a protective state. The end of the bed dipped as he sat down on the edge, he let out a loud sigh as a rustling noise emitted. I sat there, cradled into myself waiting for him to pounce, lay his hands on me, or even say something. But it was just silence. 

His hair was tasselled and knotted, coming out of the bun I remembered it had been in before. His face was smeared with dried mud that cracked on his forehead, indicating a level of stress as his brows creased. His clothes were uncomfortably damp, chafing against his body. His gaze locked to the floor, seemingly defeated, yet relieved at the same time.  

We sat silently, I sat there looking at him trying to piece the puzzle together of how he ended up in such a state. It had been weeks since I had seen the Greenlander, as Canute constantly referred to him as. He sat there, his elbows leaning on his legs, sitting there, solemnly content in the silence. ‘Leif’ I whispered, being careful not to move nor startle him as he sat silently in a meditative state. He let out a grunt, shaking his head slowly as if to say please. 

‘I wouldn’t do that to you’ he whispered, wiping his sleeve across his nose as his neck dropped further down. 

He sat in silence for longer, the room becoming darker as the sun set outside. I gently got up from the bed, circling in front of him, kneeling on the floor between his legs. Up close, his face was one of utter exhaust. His eyelids dropped as he tried to hold his eyes open. He could barely acknowledge my presence as he sat there, his body swaying as if it were about to buckle beneath him. I gently reached up to the collar of his damp coat, gently untying the strings, trailing down his chest until the fasteners were undone. He sat there rigidly, not saying a word, not making a move. I gently ran my palms under the fabric of the coat, my hands pressed against his solid, large shoulders. I pushed against them, almost revelling in the feeling of the sheer tightness of his skin. I ran my palms down his arms, sliding the coat off his body, gently peeling it from him. His shirt underneath, although still intact, was ripped and muddied. Whatever activity Leif Erikson had been up to, it wasn’t a leisurely trip. His arms limply fell from their resting place on his thighs as he allowed me to slide the wet coat off his arms, freeing him from the constricting material. His chin tilted only slightly, enough for our gaze to connect again through his drooping eyelids. 

Nothing needed to be said though, his exhaustion was clear. I gently grasped onto his shoulders again, pushing him down into a laying position on the mattress. He let out a gentle sigh of relief, grateful for even the comfort of the world's lumpiest old mattress. I grabbed the blanket from the end of the bed, draping it carefully over his body. 

By the time the blanket had draped over him, Leif Erikson was solemn in slumber. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

‘Y/N you’re sick, you need help’ my mother pleaded with teary eyes. 

‘You promised it wouldn’t come to this, you swore we’d never tell’ I screamed back, scuttling along the floor and gazing up and my mother in fear. 

‘I couldn’t keep it from him, he saw you, this is the best thing for you’ she breathlessly exclaimed, crawling toward me pleading. 

‘It’s time to go Y/N’ My father sounded from the other end of the room sternly.

‘Please…Please don’t do this, it doesn’t need to be like this’ I screamed. But he stood there, firmly in place, firm in his hand, firm in his decision. 

‘They are already here Y/N, you are going’ he said sternly, stiff in his body language as if to say this conversation was annoying more than anything.

I could feel my head hit the back of the wall, there being nowhere else to escape to. 

‘She’s in here Father’ he called, turning around to greet those once strange eyes, but now so familiar. ‘Elder Aefentid, we are so grateful, our daughter needs more help than we can give her’. My father's tone changed so matter of factly as if he were a helpless man trying so hard to help his daughter. I couldn’t help but feel this was all too convenient for him. In his clutches, Elder Aefentid stood in the room, a bible in his clutch, a crucifix held firmly in his grasp. 

‘Do you see him now child?’ Elder Aefentid questioned as he cautiously tip-toed into the room. Of course, I could, he hadn’t left all day, only stood there warning me that my fate was to unfold. I shook my head ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about father…’ I whispered through teary cries. 

‘DO YOU SEE HIM NOW CHILD?’ He screamed. 

‘Y/N’ 

I bolted up with a scream. I could feel my limbs unstick from one another as the feeling of cold sweat engulfed my body. The room was black, the floor cold beneath me, the only break of light coming from a single candle. The orange hue gently lit the face of Leif as he sat on the bed, his eyes full of unease. 

‘You were yelling’ he said matter of factly, his tone clearly masking confusion. ‘I wasn’t yelling?’ I said questioningly, but I had known this to happen before. ‘You were yelling’ he said again in a much calmer tone, the light flickering in front of his face. I took in a deep breath, taking in every crevice of his face, the way his jaw chiselled, tensing and relaxing as his throat bobbled as he took in a deep gulp.  I nodded curtly, as if to say I know, but I don’t want to know. 

Leif sat on the bed, his legs over the side as he sat at the head of the bed. ‘How did I get here?’ He solemnly questioned, grazing his fingers over the mattress as the blanket lay gently across his lap. ‘You tell me, you were awfully tired’ I whispered back, shrugging my shoulders as he looked down at my place on the floor. There was something intense about his gaze, the way his eyes flickered up and down my body, a sense of curiosity and uncertainty as we sat between the flickering of orange. It was improper for me to be alone in here with him, but knowing there were plenty more Vikings on the other side of the door, I can’t lie in saying I wasn’t grateful for Leif’s presence. 

His demeanour changed as he directed his gaze back to the floor, uncomfortable with the obvious query that loomed over us both. Where had Leif Erikson been all this time? Whether the details really mattered, but why he had come back, that was the mystery. 

‘I will leave’ he whispered gingerly, slowly playing with the loose thread of the blanket that draped over him. His movements were slow, unwilling. When he rose from the bed his knees cracked beneath him, a gentle seethe of pain emitted from his teeth. ‘You’re hurt’ I breathed, getting up abruptly to steady his frame as his legs slightly wobbled beneath him. ‘I am fine’ he said as he stiffly straightened his rigid back, that cracking as well. ‘Just stay’ I whispered abruptly as I grabbed onto his biceps. As I stood there, only the smallest gap between us, his body towered over mine, his head dropped naturally as I looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes flickered, as mine did his. An eeriness of caution, waiting for the other to do something. But one thing was clear, I wasn’t willing to move, nor was he. ‘I um…’ I stuttered, as my fingers seemed to linger onto his skin much longer than was friendly. 

*SLAM*

My palm flew to my face as I let out a shriek, my body jumping in fright at the sound of a pound against the door. Leif Erikson didn’t seem to even startle. My hands flew from him as I took a step away. The murmur of slurred singing in old norse could be heard as metal clanged against one another. Leif strode toward the door, poking his head out as I silently shook in my shoes, awaiting whatever the Vikings were doing. He silently closed the door, pressing a finger to his lips as he turned toward me. ‘Too much mead tends to bring out the lively side of Vikings’ he whispered in amusement. His smile seemed suppressed as he let out a long breath through his nostrils. I smiled back gently, tilting my lips just enough to show I appreciated his attempt at humour in my state of scare. 

‘Maybe I should…’ he trailed. I simply nodded. ‘I would appreciate it’ I said. Leif quietly untied the fasteners of his belt, letting the tight fabric fall to the floor. I gently sat down at the end of the bed as he uncertainly took a seat at its head. The light flickered in the pitch-black room, only offering glimpses of one another. 

I could feel a tingle deep within my stomach. My brain was telling me all the things I should know. This is improper, this is immoral, this is a disaster waiting to happen, and God will punish me. But something deep within my body shook, an urge I couldn’t shake. Like a roaring fire in my stomach that set my heart alight. I could feel the rhythmic pounding of my heartbeat turn to pulsate so strongly that radiated down my torso all the way down to my legs. I squeezed my thighs together, a poor attempt to suppress that pulsated between my legs. I could sense a tenseness as the blanket shifted beneath me. I glanced down to find Leif’s fingers nervously digging into the bed. My body involuntarily shivered as if something shot down my spine. ‘You are cold?’ He whispered, breaking the tense silence that encapsulated the room. ‘A little’ I whispered back, digging into the blanket with my fingers. Leif reached down to the ground and grabbed his coat, only to let out a dissatisfied breath. ‘It’s still wet sorry’ he said defeatedly. 

The room retreated into silence again, the only sound emitting being a gentle sizzle of the flame as it burnt the candle. The feeling of desire was uncomfortable, but the obvious silence of awkwardness was unbearable. I gently grabbed the blanket from Leif’s side, draping it over both our laps as a symbol of peace. Leif seemed taken aback but relieved at the notion of not having to sleep on the floor. 

The mattress was thin, our arms and legs pressed against one another tightly as the width of our bodies overcrowded the tiny bed. I could hear Leif breathing, as he could probably hear mine. Just as short and nervous as each other. 

‘There is no need for any more nightmares Y/N…nobody is here but us’ he solemnly whispered. I could feel the tears prickling in my eyes. The sincerity in his voice had a gentle shake to it as if he was nervous but his desire to say it was more important than the thought of making a fool of himself. It was as if another entity had taken over my body, without thought, fear, or contemplation I felt my hand reaching down beneath the blanket, scuttling underneath the surface blindly until my fingers finally found what they were looking for. 

As cautiously as my shaking fingers were, our fingers entwined loosely, as if neither of us was certain that this was okay or not. But even in their loose entwined grip, neither of our hands moved until sleep took over. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

[lynderman]

𝙁𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙁𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 (Bruce Yamada Oneshot)

Pairing: Bruce Yamada x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 857

Date Published: 10/10/22

Sypnosis: 'Futile: Incapable of producing any useful result; pointless'. Much like your relationship with your boyfriend. Bruce Yamada.

(Idk how to feel about this, but I made it for my friend so I hope you enjoy Tori :) . )

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Another look of disappointment and heartbreak overtook your face as you looked to your right. You had learned to not cry when you saw this, as It became a regular occurrence to see your boyfriend with other girls. At this point, it was a routine for you both.

All your willpower to confront him or even shove the girl off of him left your body the second she got on his lap. You only threw your cup of juice at the two, which seemed to finally give you their attention.

As you walked off, you heard the girl scoff and argue before footsteps followed you into the foyer and out the front door. "(Y/n), Wait! I can explain!" You heard your boyfriend shout as you quickly skipped down Billy's front steps.

"There's nothing to explain Bruce!" You shouted back. You were so close to your car. A good 15 feet maybe? You extended your hand to unlock the door only for it to be grabbed by another person's. Turning around, your eyes locked with Bruce's as he gripped your wrist.

"Get the fuck off of me." You shoved his hand out of yours harshly, only for him to try and reach for it again. "Bruce, just stop. I've had enough of this bullshit." It hurt to look him in the eyes. That was something you couldn't seem to do lately. It wasn't different now; Your eyes locked onto the cement below you. "Look, I have a good explanation for this I-"

"You what?" A startled look appeared on the boys' face (although you couldn't see it). "What? What's the excuse you're gonna use this time? That you're too drunk and she looked like me? You said that last time. Maybe you'll say she approached you first. That's one you seem to love!" The small cracks in your voice gave away that you were going to break down any second now.

"No, no. It's none of those I just couldn't find you and I thought that-"

"Thought what?" Your eyes met Bruce's as you gathered the courage to face him. His orbs were slightly red from whatever the hell he was smoking early. His lips were slightly red from lipstick, with kisses all around his cheeks and jaw. It made your blood boil a bit. It used to be your cherry red lipstick that coated his face. And now it was whatever girl would let him in their pants. "I can't keep doing this, Bruce. I can't." He gave you a puzzled look. "Doing what?" You were dumbfounded at how clueless he was.

"Doing this! Playing your little games. The one where you get to pick and choose the piece you want for the night. It's always some other girl and not me! And every fucking time I catch you with her, you apologize and swear that 'You'll change' and 'Never do it again' but you don't! You stay the same man-whore everyone warned me about!"

He looked taken aback by your word choices. Hurt, even. but you didn't care. He'd hurt you all too much before.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cry. Not because of him again, but you couldn't help it. You didn't know if it was the way he looked at you or the way you so desperately wished it was you and not some random girl of the month. "(Y/n)..." You felt Bruce's hand brush a piece of hair out of your face.

"Am I doing something wrong? Is it me? Is there something wrong with me, and that's why you go find some other girl? Do I not give you enough attention? Do I annoy you too much? Am I not pretty enough? Is it my body-?" Your arms wrapped around your torso self consciously as you asked your questions. A sigh left Bruce's lips. But he didn't answer. He stayed silent.

"Am I just not enough for you? Is that what this all is?"

Another moment of silence. A sob broke from your throat as you took a step back. "I've been a good girlfriend as far as I'm concerned. I drive you everywhere, I pay for everything, I take care of you when you're hungover. I poor out my fucking heart and soul for you each and every day, Bruce. But it's still never enough for you, is it? I put in all my feelings to this relationship, only to get futile results from you right after."

Fumbling for the right key in your hand, you walked over and unlocked the door. A quiet 'Where're you going?' echoed off of Bruce. "Away from you. Anywhere where you won't be. I'm done with you and your bullshit." As you opened the door, Bruce came to the side of the car. "What'd you mean?"

"I'm breaking up with you Bruce. Once and for all."

He didn't have a chance to get any words out before you slammed the door and started the car. Standing there in awe, Bruce watched you speed off into the neighborhood. As you drove down the road, one last question repeated in your mind.

Why did you keep running to him if he was the thing you were running from?

[night-garden-fic]

Chapter Five: What Blooms in Winter

(Read on AO3)

"It works.  This is good.

(This is bad.)"

Part Two

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Is there a powder to erase this?

Is it dissolvable and tasteless?

You can't imagine how I hate this"

-"Graceless," The National

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Chapter Five: What Blooms in Winter

     "...Good afternoon! What-"

     Almost immediately, I realize I'm mistaken.  These strange men aren't here for a book.

     They're here for me.

     Something is wrong with the light, and I can't get a proper look at their faces.  Something is also wrong with my body; heavy, structureless, near-paralyzed.  Unable to move or hold my ground, I am quickly overpowered.

     Several hands—perhaps a few too many—pin me against the wall.  A pair of heavy manacles are placed on my wrists.  My own two hands feel far-away.  Severed.  I can't fight back.

     For a hectic minute or two, I become convinced that I can turn the situation around by telling them how I really feel about being pushed around and shackled.  So, in the most lascivious tone I can manage, I do just that, though I'm not really sure what outcome I'm hoping for.  To unsettle them so much that they have to let me go?  Or to somehow change the scenario entirely?

     (No, not the second thing.  I don't think that's how it works.)

     In any case, they don't seem to hear me, so I give up.

   �� Then, before I realize it, I am thrown into the cabin of a small airship, where I lie immobile on the floor and feel my stomach drop as the craft begins to lift from the ground.

     (I'm supposed to go pick up Cecilia.  How will she know that I didn't forget her?)

     The airship is poorly-made.  I can see the ground through a crack in the floor, and I know that if I look too long, I'll slip right through and crash to Earth.  I close my eyes, but it doesn't work.  I can still see everything.  So I turn to look at the ceiling instead.  It's surprisingly high, and vanishes into blackness.

     (Into which I could also slip?)

     I want to ask what I'm doing here, but I realize I already know.

     The war isn't over.

     I never finished my tour of duty, and was never properly discharged.  It only makes sense that I'd one day have to finish what I started.

     (Could I explain that I started against my will?)

     (No, that doesn't make a difference.)

     I don't know how it happened, but I'm standing on solid ground again.

     (Where did the time go?  Did I hit my head?)

     My wrists are still bound, and strong hands are gripping my shoulders.  Again, I consider letting everyone know what this does for me, but I can't keep a thought in my head for long enough to act on anything.

     Instead, I let them walk me towards a deep, dark scar in the Earth.

     A trench.

     I think I know exactly which one it is, though it looks like it could be any of them.  Or maybe nowhere I've been before.

     (Or perhaps, nowhere at all.)

     When we reach the chasm, the anonymous man behind me finally speaks:

     "It looks like everyone's moved on, but this is where you left off."

     His words seem to ring from inside my own head.  Then he pushes me over the edge, and I fall so far that I'm surprised I survive the landing.

     Something is wrong, though.  I can't move.

     (Everything is broken.)

     Yes, everything is broken.  And I'm half-sunken in the mud, my body braced on all sides, too weak to fight the building vacuum beneath me.

     I don't know when night came.  I can't recognize any constellations, and the stars are moving around at random.

     (I guess I'll die here?)

     (Oh, Sabrina, take care of my girl.)

     Now that I'm resigned to it, it's almost peaceful.  The Earth will simply swallow me, and I won't have to think about any of this ever again.

     (I'm just finishing what I started, after all.)

     Something starts blotting out the stars, and I realize that dark figures are gathering around the edge of the trench.

     I still can't move.

     And I have no idea what they're planning to do to me.

     (Am I in my grave again?)

~*~

     "Russell...  Shh...  It's all right...  You're okay."

     The voice was comforting, but Russell didn't feel okay.  His heart was hammering against his ribs, and without his glasses, in the dim blue light of the distant moon and stars, he couldn't make out where he was.  For all he knew, he was still paralyzed, stuck in the mud, waiting for...

     I never did find out what they were, or what they were going to do.

     For a sickening second, between sleep and wakefulness, he thought he felt one of their hands.

     Mercifully, it was only Lady Ann, roughly shaking him awake.

     At first, he cringed so far from her touch that he very nearly fell off the bed.  But now that he knew who she was, he practically tumbled into her arms, with a sound that was halfway between a pained groan and another scream.

     She enfolded him protectively, with an almost uncharacteristic tenderness, gently stroking his back.  Russell buried his head in her chest, trying to melt with the comforting feeling of her hands on his skin.  Still, he couldn't keep from shivering himself into a tense ball, and began to sob in frustration.

     Frustration, and the sticky remnants of horror.

     Lady Ann held him tighter, began running her fingers through his hair.

     "It was just a bad dream...  I'm right here..."

     Yes...  She's right here.

     Suddenly aware of how soaked he was in his own sweat, and mortified that she'd been touching his drenched hair, Russell rolled onto his back, putting a bit of space between them

     Just the ceiling.  Low enough that you could stand up on the bed and touch it.

     (Nothing waiting for you up there.)

     "...How long was I asleep?"

     Lady Ann moved to gently brush away the tendrils of hair that clung to Russell's face, as salt-tacky and sodden-limp as seaweed.

     "About two hours."

     If she was so determined to touch him, he figured there was no harm in allowing it.  Russell leaned his mind toward the soothing sensation and sighed heavily.

     "That all?"

     Lady Ann shrugged, shadows pooling in the contours and crevices of her moon-pale shoulders and chest.

     "Afraid so."

     Russell unstuck his body from the damp sheets and sat up, hunched and cradling his heavy head.

     "And I woke you up, too...  Gods, I'm sorry..."

     Lady Ann reached out to place a hand on his trembling back.

     "It's okay.  It...  Happens.  I'm sure I'll get back to sleep."

     The way they all take it for granted.

     "I know.  Lucky you."

     Though he'd barely been awake five minutes, Russell had already given up.  The shivering had subsided, but his nerves were still buzzing under the skin, overheating his brain.  He could almost feel those dream-phantoms hovering above his helpless body, waiting to strike.

     There would be no sleep tonight, or perhaps even the next.

     Lady Ann resumed stroking his back, which seemed like too little, too late.  Even so, it made him feel a bit better all the same.

     "Is there anything I can do for you?"

     Nothing you haven't already done.

     (Apparently, it doesn't work anymore.)

     "No... No, there's nothing."

     Russell was half-hoping she was going to start winding him up for another session, but found that his heart wasn't really in it.  His body already felt used-up and sore, and he wasn't quite up to the physical effort, especially if it couldn't even ensure a good night's sleep.

     Lady Ann's hand came to rest on the back of his neck, her voice a breathy sickroom whisper that didn't really suit her.

     "Lamp Grass helps you with this, right?  Could you take some?"

     Gods, could I...

     Russell sighed raggedly.

     "Edward stopped prescribing it to me.  I think he thinks I'm addicted or something."

     "You over-rely on it."

     He could feel the quicksilver rising in his throat as his Lady did her best to reassure him.

     "I mean, it seems to me like you just need it.  And actually..."

     She paused for a moment, and seemed to be considering something.  Russell regarded her with curiosity.

     "...Actually what?"

     Another pause, in which Lady Ann seemed to be in two minds about what she was planning to say.

     "Well...  It's not an uncommon winter flower.  In fact, I have an ornamental planting in my courtyard.  I don't know how they make it into medicine, but if you can figure it out, you're welcome to try."

     Russell brightened a bit at this news, feeling suddenly hopeful.

     "...Wait, seriously?  Would that be okay?"

     Lady Ann shrugged, yawning and burying herself deeper into the messy blankets.

     "Of course.  I planted a lot of it this season, so take as much as you want."

     Already, he was losing her, but it didn't really matter.  Before long, he'd be getting lost himself.

     "Well, thanks a lot.  You're a lifesaver."

     (In the literal sense?)

     "Mmm..."

     And, with that, she was gone.  Alone in the dark again, Russell slipped on his glasses and began fumbling around with his clothes; shrugging on his coat and trousers and shoving his feet into his boots, not bothering with his shirt and underthings.

     I shouldn't be out long...

     Taking quiet, careful steps, minding the few stairs he knew could creak, he made his way through the dark Inn, then out into the bitter, stunningly bright nighttime cold of the courtyard; where the glimmer of the full moon on the sparkling snow was enough to make him squint, the chill enough to snatch the wind from his lungs.

     His shallow breath coming in white puffs, sweaty hair freezing into brittle icicles that whispered in the wind like dry grass, Russell jammed his hands into the relative warmth of his pockets as he surveyed the garden before him.

     The winter garden was a gloomy, eerie sight.  Fallow beds bristling with the fragile remains of autumn's twigs and stems here; the elegant, severe angularity of White Crystal and Ironleaf there.  Everywhere, a glistening, deathsome starkness.

     It felt as though he were standing in the family graveyard of all green things.  And, amidst all that grey-blue-black stillness, it wasn't difficult for Russell to find what he'd been looking for.

     An inviting, red-gold glow.

     (The proverbial light in the darkness, I suppose.)

     He admired the phosphorescent blooms for a moment, then cautiously reached out and plucked a few, secreting them in his pockets.

     Part of him hated tearing these orbs of warm light from such a cold, dark garden.  But, when he thought about how he'd soon be taking some of that warmth into himself...

     ...Well, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such sublime relief.

     (Not since my last dose.)

     As for the next dose, Russell wasn't quite sure how to go about getting his hands on it.

     Should I go into the kitchen and try to make a decoction?

     Would it work if I just ate it like this?

     Suddenly, he remembered a lurid historical novel that he'd devoured with rapt fascination at sixteen.  Admittedly, it had made him a bit morbidly curious even then, but that was before he had any reason to seek out such things.

     Back when feeling well came naturally to him.

     Well, better late than never, I guess...

     Russell plucked another blossom and tapped the stem over the back of his hand, releasing a shower of glowing specks.  He didn't know how much was a proper dose, but decided to keep the pile small, figuring he could always take more.

     Let's just see how this feels.

     Holding his breath, as not to disturb the tidy cluster of near-weightless granules, Russell held his hand up to his nose, then plugged one nostril and inhaled sharply.

   �� At first, he almost thought he'd set himself on fire.  The powder burned his sinuses on the way up, and his right eyeball was suddenly lit from behind, as though a miniature sun had been born and died right there in his head.

     And then, a wave of calm like nothing else.

     It emptied his brain, uncoiled his aching muscles, chased off what few phantoms still lingered around him.  Russell's mind felt as cool and silvery-blue as the garden's frozen moonlight, as safe and quiet as the warm gloom of the Lady's bedroom.

     It works.  This is good.

     (This is bad.)

     Still, he could already tell that it would take a little more to properly put him to sleep.  He tapped out another little pile of light; slightly smaller than the first, but enough to once again light up his skull like the sun.

     This time, he nearly fainted.  Russell fell to his knees in the snow, the stars wheeling overhead, his vision beginning to grow dark around the edges.

     Maybe I'll just lie down right here.

     Cold as it was, the snow looked as soft and inviting as any bed.  The only thing that eventually stopped him was, funnily enough, another harrowing book from his sixteenth year; a story about a lost mountaineer who had to eat tree bark and ended up losing five fingers.

     He was stranded in the hills.  You're five feet from the door.  Get up.

     Russell wiped his burning nose with the back of his hand, and noticed that he'd left a small smear of blood.  Unable to think of anything else to do about it, he quickly licked it off, then wobbled to his feet.

     I think I'm already dreaming.

     If he was, it was a pleasant one this time.  The dead winter garden with its crystalline, metallic, and glowing blooms looked beautiful to him now, everything sparkling in the moonlight, so bright that his eyes could barely adjust when he stepped back into the deep velvet shadows of the Inn.

     The shadows, once foreboding, now seemed gentle and protective.  Their dark arms enfolded him, and Russell swore he could feel them carrying him all the way up the stairs, back into the warmth of Lady Ann's bed; where they carefully laid him down, naked and uncomprehending as the day he was born.

     And then they swallowed him whole.

~*~

     It wasn't until he woke to the livid, almost obscene red of a sunbeam falling across his closed eyelids that Russell realized he had slept through the night.

     The shadows were gone now.

     And, for that matter, so was Lady Ann.

     He cleared his throat, thinking he'd call for her, but it set off a violent coughing fit.  The fluid in his lungs must have pooled and stagnated from his lying in one position for...

     ...How many hours?

     Russell couldn't be quite sure.

     He only knew that, for the first time in a very long while, it may have been enough.

     Leaning precariously over the edge of the bed, he riffled through his coat pockets until he found his handkerchief, then coughed again and spat.  Regrettably, he couldn't resist briefly inspecting what he'd managed to bring up, and nearly panicked at the sight of dark blood on the worn white cloth.

     Soon, however, the previous night began coming back to him, and he felt a bit more at ease.

     Red blood.  Red petals.  A red light behind my eyes.

     His nose must have bled into his throat as he slept, but he decided that didn't matter.  It also didn't matter that he'd found himself still wearing his glasses, but otherwise completely nude, with no clear memory of getting undressed before collapsing into bed.

     All that mattered was sleep.  Sleep, and all it brought him.

     Though still a bit pleasantly foggy from the drug, Russell's thoughts felt as clear as the sunny winter day itself, the leaden confusion of the past weeks burned off his brain like heavy fog.  His body felt strong and quick, and sharply alive.  The aches that had begun to constantly plague him were all but gone.

     I guess that really was all I needed.

     Just then, he heard the door creak.  There was no fuge to startle him out of, so Russell stayed as he was, the sunbeam and the blankets warming his naked, luxuriating body.

     Lady Ann peered into the room, sun gleaming on her rich brown hair.  Then, upon seeing him awake, came to sit on the edge of the bed.

     "...You okay?"

     Russell coughed again, drier this time.

     "Yeah...  My lungs are still a little iffy in the mornings.  Actually, what time is it, anyway?"

     ...Please, tell me it's morning.

     "About two in the afternoon."

     The sound of the door hadn't startled him, but this new information certainly did.  Russell vaulted up in bed so quickly that he had to sit for a moment and let his head swim; feeling it fighting against some great whirlpool in his listing skull.

     "Oh shit...  I need to go...  Cecilia's still at Sabrina's."

     The dizziness subsided, and Russell picked his clothes off the floor and began hastily dressing, putting his undershirt on inside-out and fumbling with his myriad buttons and zippers.  Lady Ann watched with what might have been amusement, handing him a stray sock that had gotten tangled in the bedsheets.

     "Well, then you'd better get over there...  Sorry for not waking you earlier.  I just knew you needed the sleep...  And honestly, I didn't know if I could.  You were pretty out."

     Russell took the old wool sock, slid it on, then set to jamming his boots on his feet.

     "Don't worry about it...  I forgot how dead to the world I can get on that stuff."

     Lady Ann gave his shoulder a somewhat rough, thoroughly sympathetic pat; the sort of jovial, slightly masculine gesture that made him feel like an absolute fool for her.

     "Well, at least now you'll remember...  Do you want me to fix you something to eat before you leave?"

     Russell paused, somewhat apprehensively, before the vanity mirror; checking for any residue of the previous night, and finding himself a bit pale and puffy-eyed.  It would probably be obvious that he'd just woken up.  But, after finger-combing his hair, and using his handkerchief to brush off the slight crust of dried blood from the inner edge of one nostril, he looked presentable enough.

     It won't matter how late you are.  She'll just be glad you've been sleeping.

     "No, I don't have time...  I appreciate the thought, though."

     Something that might have been disappointment flashed across Lady Ann's face, but they both quickly dismissed it.

     "Right...  Well, I had a lovely night with you.  See you later, Russell."

     They shared a quick peck on the lips, and Russell smiled at her, bright and boyish, on his way out the door.

     "Believe me, you will."

     With that, he stumbled down the stairs and out into the bright afternoon.

     Russell's boots crunched though the fresh powder, building up to a run.  The sudden surge of energy and vitality wasn't just pleasant, but strangely fascinating.  He hadn't realized how poorly he'd been doing, and had nearly forgotten what it was to be well.

     In his mind, he saw his body filling with the golden light of life itself; the glow emanating from the tender membrane at the back of his throat and reaching all the way to the tips of his digits, keeping the blood warm and swift, even as he ran through the freezing snow.  He felt as though he could keep going forever, dashing eagerly to meet the bright day.

     But this was not, as it turned out, a pace that Russell could easily keep.  He got out of breath easily these days, and had nearly slipped on a patch of ice in front of the Pub, so running quickly lost its novelty.  He reluctantly slowed to a sedate walk, and carefully made his way to the beach; where the snow gave way to sand, and the sand gave way to infinity.  He took a deep breath of the wild, salty smell of the sea, then knocked twice on Sabrina's door.

     There was no answer, but he could hear some kind of merrimaking going on inside, so Russell simply opened the door, letting himself into the heavenly-smelling chaos of the Shack.

     Cecilia and Nicholas were playing some kind of boisterous self-devised game at the kitchen table, which seemed to mostly involve flicking balled-up paper around, accompanied by a hell of a lot of squealing.  Sabrina was clanging around washing dishes, occasionally playfully scolding or cheering on one or both of the children, so it took her some time to notice he was there.

     But, late arrival aside, she seemed happy enough to see him.

     ...Russell!  There you are!"

     At the sound of her father's name, Cecilia snapped to attention; looking away from Nicholas, and consequently getting hit in the head with a ball of paper, which stuck fast in her thick, straight hair.

     "...Daddy!  We made steamed bread!"

     Amidst the paper flotsam on the table, Russell noticed a platter containing a few pale, spongy loaves; some whole, some ripped into messy halves.  Crocks of butter, jam, and honey.  A graveyard of sticky knives.  This was the obvious source of the sweet, yeasty smell that he'd noticed upon entering.

     "I see that!"

     Cecilia picked the ball of jammy paper out of her hair, tossing it at Nicholas.

     "There's no milk in it!  You can have some!"

     Sabrina turned off the tap and placed the damp steamer basket back in the cupboard.

     "Just some eggs and honey...  Yes, have some!  Tell us what you think!"

     Nicholas used a greasy butterknife to flick the sticky paper back at Cecilia.

     "Mom said she had to keep our hands busy!"

     The crumpled paper ended up hitting Sabrina instead, and she discreetly slipped it into the wastecan.

     "Yes, I did, and I think we can all see why...  And anyway, I also said we needed to have a good lunch.  Was it a good lunch?"

     The kids nodded in enthusiastic agreement as Russell took a seat at the table, tearing himself half of one of the small loaves, and noting his topping choices.  He settled on a pot of apple jam, and spread a thin layer on the soft bread.  The combination was comfortingly plain, with a gentle, uncomplicated sweetness.

     He was surprised at how delicious it was, then remembered that he hadn't eaten since the toast Cecilia had made for him at yesterday's breakfast.

     I really need to get my act together.

     "No complaints from me...  I'm not sure who did what, but you all did a great job!"

     Cecilia beamed with pride.

     "I kneaded half of them!"

     Russell took another bite of bread, chewing it carefully.  He wasn't sure if this was one of Cecilia's, or even how he would know, but he figured he would humor her.

     "Excellent work."

     Sabrina gave Cecilia an approving pat on the head, then slid down into the remaining empty chair.

     "This one's great at following directions.  She helped with the curry rice last night, too."

     Cecilia nodded primly in the affirmative, an oddly serious gesture for such a small girl.

     Russell smiled.  They weren't blood relations, it was true, but there were still times when he caught a glimpse of his childhood self in her.

     "Hey, that's great!  Keep it up, and I might just have you take over in the kitchen."

     He had meant that as a joke, but wondered, for a moment, if it might actually be better for both of them.  His way with food was about what one would expect from an unproficient bachelor who couldn't digest milk, and even he grew sick of his own cooking at times.

     Nicholas, obviously bored of sitting in one place and listening to people going on about bread, was fidgeting in his chair.

     "...Mom!  Can we go outside?"

     Sabrina ripped off the corner of a somewhat mangled-looking loaf and nibbled at it absent-mindedly.

     "Sure, sweetie...  Just put on your coats and boots, and remember Ceci needs to go home soon, okay?"

     That was all it took to send the kids off like twin arrows.  Hurriedly, they tossed on their warm outer clothing, rushing eagerly toward whatever could be unearthed from the cold, grey sands of the wintery beach.

     With his bread eaten, and the noise of the children outside muffled by the walls of the Shack, Russell felt strangely awkward and out of place.  Before, he'd been happily distracted.  Now, he was suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he'd showed up well into the afternoon, likely still reeking of sex and acrid nightmare sweat.

     "...Sorry it took me so long today."

     He couldn't tell if Sabrina was genuinely untroubled, or concealing a level of annoyance out of politeness.  In either case, he was grateful

     "It's no trouble.  I figured you were just getting in a little more relaxation.  And I like having her here...  Keeps Nicky busy."

     As if on cue, Nicholas's voice rose outside.  He was yelling something about a shark, while Cecilia giggled madly in the background.  Russell sighed.

     "Well, I know they're a handful... I'll make it up to you sometime.  Really"

     At first, back when he and Sabrina were an item, Russell had tried to keep the arrangement fair by inviting Nicholas to stay over at the Library as often as Cecilia stayed over at the Shack.  Which, it turned out, was a rather hard sell, as the children found the sea far more appealing than what essentially amounted to an ordinary house with an abnormal number of books.  Russell was never sure how to keep the two of them occupied enough to prevent things from descending into chaos.

     He tried not to stare as Sabrina shrugged; a small motion, but just enough to hint at the incredible power of her shoulders, honed by years of swimming against strong tides.

     "I appreciate the offer, but I promise they aren't a chore."

     ...And there it is, right in the heart.

     He had heard that phrase before.  Countless times, in fact.  And every time, even now, it nearly brought him to tears.

     "Russell, you aren't a chore to me."

     Whenever he woke her in the night, or when there were whole days where he couldn't make himself get out of bed.  Back in the very beginning, when he practically had to be re-taught how to make love.  He was quick with apologies, but she seemed even quicker with reassurances.

     "It's never a chore to be with you."

     The soft sincerity of her usually boisterous voice, her skilled, delicate fingers weaving themselves into his...

     (You remade me, you know.)

     ...He only ever half-believed her, but just hearing her saying it meant a lot all the same.

     "Still, thanks again...  Anyway, I guess I should probably go."

     Sabrina looked slightly disappointed.

     "Not staying for more bread?"

     Russell rose from his chair and stretched his spine out of habit; expecting the bones to pop and crunch painfully, then feeling nothing but his well-rested body gliding fluidly over itself.

     "No...  I have things to catch up on at the Library.  Nice seeing you, though."

     They lingered in silence for a few moments, neither seeming particularly eager to part.  And then, the sound of Sabrina's chair scraping across the floor as she came to stand beside him.

     "Well, it was nice seeing you, too.  We'll have to have a real visit sometime soon, though."

     With a warm, friendly hand on the small of his back, she walked Russell to the door, then sent him on his way with a light peck on the cheek.  He felt himself blush furiously, hoping in vain that she wouldn't notice.

     "Yeah...  Soon, for sure...  You'll have to tell me all about ice fishing!"

     Sabrina brightened noticeably.

     "Yes, I'll tell you all about ice fishing!  Goodbye, Russell."

     Even her goodbyes never failed to make his heart feel full.

     "Bye, Sabrina...  Ceci!  Time to go, kiddo."

     Cecilia hopped down from her perch on the mysterious giant shell, little boots splatting loudly in the damp sand.

     "Bye, Nicky!"

     Nicholas looked up from a piece of rotting seaweed that he'd been inspecting with a stick.

     "Bye, Ceci!"

     They repeated this a few more times over, until Cecilia took her father's hand.  The pair waved their farewells to their good friends, then carefully ascended the icy stairs together.

     The chilly walk back to the Library was pleasantly quiet, save for the sound of the small Elven girl's coat pockets, which rattled cheerfully with stones and shells.

     Russell couldn't wait for her to tell him about each and every one.

[forever-rogue]

currently going through a javi g brainrot bc that man has been the prettiest in tuwomt and may i request a protective javi 👀

i want him to shield his body against minee

AN | Listen, I love him. I love everything about him and I really just want to do everything for him and have him do the same! Enjoy❤️

Pairing | Javi  Gutierrez x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Reader is ~knocked up~

Word Count | 1.5k

Masterlist | PP Characters, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You're doing it again," you cracked an eye open and turned your head to once again find his eyes focused on you. He made a small sound in the back of his throat before pointedly looking away, "cielito. I am okay, I'm just sitting there by the pool."

"Something could happen," he huffed lightly as you watched him float around the pool, "you can't trust anyone."

"Javi," you took the book off your chest and set it down before slowly sitting up. His soft amber eyes widened as he looked you over, "we're in our own home, and there's almost no one here besides us. What could possibly go wrong?"

"I've been watching my back since I was a boy," he reminded you, "it is a hard thing to let go. Especially when you want to make sure the person you love is okay. Especially in your condition."

"My condition?" you couldn't hold back your giggles as you watched him in amusement. He pouted dramatically as you tried to calm yourself down, "Javi, I'm pregnant. It's nothing that weird."

"Exactly," he huffed as he gestured to your stomach where the evidence of your pregnancy was still barely visible, "something could happen to you or the baby."

"The only thing that could happen to either of us is if I happen to trip or fall over my own feet," you walked over to the edge of the pool and dipped your legs in, reaching out over to him and gently touching his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek, "mi amor, everything will be alright. Nothing can hurt us anymore. And besides, if the time ever did come where you needed to protect us, I know you wouldn't hesitate. I never feel safer than when I'm with you. I love you so much, Javi."

"I love you too," he took your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, causing you to sigh lightly, "I will try to worry less, but I am not going to make any promises."

"That's fair enough," you slowly stood up before jumping into the pool, causing the water to ripple around you, "come on, let's go for a swim. And quit worrying - I can see it in your eyes. Let loose, cielito!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Javi was…he was a lot of things. But first and foremost he was a good, kind, and loving man. As your pregnancy progressed, he became an odd combination of laid back excitement and overprotective. He detested being away from you, even if it was just for a day or two for work, and it was even worse during the times he had to be away longer. 

But you always reassured him that everything was okay, making sure to call or FaceTime along with texts. It seemed like as soon as he got to see your bump he calmed down and reminded himself that you were home and safe. While initially it had been overwhelming to have him being that protective of you, a different part of you loved it. More often than not it managed to leave you hot and flustered. Which he knew immediately; it wasn't hard to read the signs and it wasn't hard to take you either. But that was a different story.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I don't want to leave," his voice was soft and you knew that he was trying to get you to ask him to stay. That was all he needed to hear in order to drop everything and stay home instead of heading to New York for a week, "I can do these meetings remotely. I don't need-"

"Javi, amor, you're going," you insisted softly, reaching for his suitcase to push it over to him. Naturally, he caught your wrist in his hand and stopped you, "its just a suitcase! It's not even heavy and I'm not an invalid, Javi. I can still do things."

"But you are-"

 "Very pregnant," you agreed with a huff as you attempted to shoo your husband out of your bedroom, "but I can still do things. And if I need help with anything, there are plenty of people in our employ that I can ask for help. Maria lives with us, in case you've forgotten and not only does she keep this household running, she keeps us alive. We'll be fine. You'll go for a week and make all those bigwigs happy and then come home. And then in a month or so we'll have our baby. Si?"

"Hermosa-"

"I should have specified that it was not up for discussion, Señor Gutierrez," your hand was on his chest as you gently swatted him, "go on, Javi. Emilio's waiting to take you to the airport."

"I wish I could take you with me," he sighed gently before gently kissing your forehead.

"And I would go," you promised, "if it was not for my 'condition' as you so sweetly put it, I would come with you. The sooner you leave the sooner you'll be home, amor."

"If you so insist," this time he leaned and kissed you deeply before pulling you into his arms. He kissed you like it was the last time he would ever get to see you or hold you. Not that you were complaining in the slightest. When he finally pulled away, he let out a wistful little sigh, "you are my sun, moon, and stars."

"And you are a poet," you couldn't help but grin at him, "my wonderful husband. No more stalling, get going so you can home to your wife and son."

He offered you a reluctant nod as he grabbed the suitcase and wheeled it along with him, his other hand clutching yours. You'd miss him terribly, you always did even if he was only gone for a few hours. But you always didn't want him to hold himself back because of your selfish needs. 

You felt an odd feeling of pain ripple through your lower belly, causing you to hiss. Javi looked over at you suspiciously as you plastered on a little smile. He was looking for any excuse not to leave. The pain came a few more times as you walked with him to meet the driver near the entrance of your sprawling estate. 

You were sure that everything was fine, but the twinges of pain were still concerning. You watched as everything was put into the back of the car, ignoring the questioning look he was giving you.

"Alright then," you said softly as you went to give him a final hug. Before you could wrap your arms around him, you felt a warm liquid dripping down your legs, "oh."

You heard him curse in Spanish as you tried to look down at your legs, but finding it impossible due to your belly, "oh, mi sol. Did you…"

"I didn't pee myself," you almost groaned, suddenly panicking when you realized what it was, "m-my water broke. Oh no. And you're leaving and now the baby's coming! I'm going to have our son alone and you'll be gone and I'll-"

"Shh, shh," he took your face in his hands, a nervous but excited little smile on his face, "you think I would just leave as you went into labor?"

"I…you have a flight!"

"And that can be changed," how was he suddenly the calm one? You nodded but still weren't comprehending, "what cannot be changed is the birth of our son - our first child."

"What will they say when you're not at the big meeting?"

"I think they will understand when I tell them what happened," he explained as you nodded, already panicking, "come on, we must get you to the hospital. I don't think we should wait."

"I don't want to," you said softly, feeling warm tears slide down your cheeks, "I'm scared, Javi."

"I know, my sweet, beautiful, strong wife," he brushed away your tears, "I will keep you safe and protect you, I promise. Just think of how soon our son will be in your arms."

"I want him," you nodded with a teary little smile, "okay…will you stay with me the whole time?"

"I won't leave your side," he promised as he said something in rapid Spanish to the driver, likely telling him about the change of plans, "I'll be right next to you the whole time."

"I love you, Javi," you whispered, "thank you for always keeping me safe."

"I love you more, mi sol," he promised, "I will always keep you safe."

[moonselune]

Dark!BG3 | Grand Duke Wyll Catch up P.1

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

CW: Coercion, arson, murder, manipulation, mentions of blood, corruption

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Found you ! :

After hiding from Wyll due to what he's become, what happens when he finally finds you?

The Sword Coast's rugged beauty provided a stark contrast to the turmoil that churned within you. Having fled from Baldur's Gate, you had been traveling with desperate determination, evading the Flaming Fists and Wyll's forces with every resource and trick you could muster. The constant vigilance was wearing, but the thought of what you were leaving behind—the corruption, the cruelty, the betrayal—drove you forward.

Your journey took you through the winding roads and dense forests. It was in this desolate expanse that you came upon a scene that stopped you in your tracks: a house was ablaze, flames licking the night sky and sending sparks up like fiery stars. The frantic cries of a woman for help pierced through the crackling of the fire.

Despite knowing that Wyll was hot on your trail, the sight of the burning house and the woman's desperate pleas ignited something within you. You couldn't abandon her, not when you had the power to help. With a grim resolve, you dashed into the inferno, navigating through the smoke and searing heat. The oppressive heat seemed to claw at your skin, but you pushed through, finding the woman huddled in a corner, her face streaked with soot and tears.

With all your remaining strength, you lifted her and carried her out of the burning building. She was light, but the strain of the rescue was evident in your ragged breathing and trembling limbs. You made it outside, collapsing onto the grass as you set her down. Her relief was palpable, and she began to thank you profusely but her thanks were soon tinged with regret, and she crumpled at your feet.

"I'm so sorry," she cried, her voice trembling. "He made me do it, he said he’d send my husband off to war if I didn’t cooperate!"

Before you could fully process her words, she pulled out a small, glinting blade. With a swift motion, she nicked your arm, and a cold, numbing paralysis spread through your body. Your limbs became leaden, and despite your attempts to move, you found yourself completely immobilized, standing still like a statue.

The night’s tranquility was further shattered by the sound of horses approaching. Wyll appeared on horseback, his form silhouetted against the flames and moonlight. His expression was one of smug satisfaction, and his eyes gleamed with a cruel amusement as he surveyed the scene.

“Well done, my dear,” Wyll said, his voice smooth and mocking. “Such a wonderful performance. Truly admirable.”

The woman, now visibly shaking with fear, looked at Wyll with a mixture of hope and desperation.

“What about my house?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I have nowhere to live, you promised you would provide!”

Wyll smiled indulgently and gestured to a tall gentleman who stepped forward with a cold, detached demeanor.

“And I will,” Wyll said, his voice carrying an almost whimsical tone. “Worry not, dear citizen. This gentleman will ensure you find your way to your forever home.”

Before the woman could react, the gentleman drew his sword and struck her down with a swift, merciless motion. Her final scream was cut short, and she fell to the ground, her lifeless body now adding to the grim tableau of the burning house.

Wyll dismounted his horse, his gaze turning back to you with an almost tender smile. He approached, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his face, highlighting the cold satisfaction in his eyes. His fingers gently caressed your cheek, a chilling contrast to the warmth of the flames around you.

“Ah, my dearest,” Wyll said, his voice soft but laden with a sinister undertone. “How glad I am to finally have you back. You really shouldn’t have run, you know. It only made things more… exciting.”

You wanted to speak, to confront him with all the anger and betrayal you felt, but the paralysis rendered you mute. The horror of the woman’s death and the realization of your own helplessness weighed heavily on you. Wyll’s presence, so close and yet so far from the man you once loved, was both a comfort and a terror.

He smiled, the warmth of his gaze juxtaposed against the cruelty of his actions.

“It’s always been a game to me, you know,” he said, his fingers still tracing along your cheek. “A thrilling game of cat and mouse. And now, my love, the game is over.”

As his words sank in, you were overwhelmed by a sense of inevitability. The fight had left you, replaced by a resigned acceptance of your fate. Wyll’s power was absolute, and his twisted sense of justice had ensnared you in a web from which there was no escape.

With a final, lingering touch, Wyll pulled away and motioned for his men to assist. The paralysis left you unable to resist as they moved you, each step feeling like a cruel mockery of the freedom you had once sought.

As you were carried away, the light of the blazing house cast long shadows, and the realization that you were returning to Wyll’s domain settled over you like a heavy shroud. The night sky, once a symbol of your hope and escape, now felt oppressive and suffocating.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Found you (only just):

Wyll has you cornered, let him relish in these moments

Wyll Ravengard’s stallion stood still, its powerful frame casting a looming shadow over the desolate landscape as he surveyed the scene from a distance. The Grand Duke’s presence was imposing, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he watched you dart into the blazing house, as he had predicted. The firelight flickered and danced, casting an eerie glow across his face, illuminating his dark eyes with a predatory glint.

From his vantage point, Wyll had a clear view of your frantic movements. His mouth curled into a satisfied smirk as he took in the sight of you sprinting through the flames, driven by an instinctive compulsion to rescue the woman inside. It was a spectacle that brought a twisted thrill to him, one he watched with a mixture of amusement and dark delight.

The chase had invigorated him in ways he hadn't anticipated. When he had first discovered that you had fled from him, there had been an initial surge of frustration and despair. The reality that you had escaped, slipping through his fingers, had been an unwelcome blow to his otherwise meticulous control over his empire. His initial anger had simmered, but it was quickly replaced by a growing excitement. The pursuit, with all its dangers and uncertainties, had become an exhilarating game, a challenge that stirred a fierce competitiveness within him.

He leaned against the pommel of his saddle, his gloved hands gripping the reins with a relaxed confidence. The flickering light of the fire made his face appear both sinister and enthralling.

"How delightful," Wyll mused to himself, his voice a soft, velvety murmur carried away by the night air. “To think that you would be so impassioned, so driven to save someone even as you know you’re being hunted. It’s almost admirable, in a twisted sort of way.”

As you emerged from the house, the woman in your arms, Wyll’s smile widened. The scene was both dramatic and fitting—a perfect testament to the lengths you were willing to go to for others, and to his own mastery of manipulation. He took a deep breath, savoring the scent of the smoke and the heat from the fire, feeling the adrenaline of the hunt still coursing through him.

The sight of the woman’s desperate gratitude, followed by the cruel execution that followed, only heightened Wyll’s sense of satisfaction. He had orchestrated this with careful precision, knowing full well that you would be drawn into the scene.

With a flick of his reins, Wyll urged his horse forward, his eyes never leaving you. He could see the moment of realization dawning in your eyes, the paralysis rendering you powerless. The thrill of anticipation reached its peak as he approached, eager to finally confront you, to reclaim you from the brink of his carefully laid trap.

Wyll’s heart raced, but not from fear or exertion—his was the thrill of the predator on the verge of capturing its prey. He could almost feel the heat of the fire against his skin, the raw intensity of the moment heightening his senses. The thought of finally having you in his grasp, of experiencing your surrender and the tumultuous emotions that would follow, was almost intoxicating.

As he neared, Wyll’s expression softened into a cruel, yet affectionate smile. His eyes twinkled with a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation, eager for the final act of his twisted game. The night air seemed to thrum with the promise of what was to come, and he could hardly contain his eagerness to have you back, to relish every moment of the intricate power dynamic that had been so carefully constructed.

“I can hardly wait to have you back where you belong,” Wyll murmured to himself , his voice low and full of a darkly seductive promise. “The game has been exhilarating, but nothing compares to the satisfaction of having you right here, within my reach.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Back in my arms:

Now you have been found, Wyll enjoys having you back in his arms, even if you don't.

The carriage rattled along the cobblestone streets of Baldur's Gate, the rhythmic clatter a constant backdrop to your weariness. The day had been a marathon of public appearances: meetings with influential nobles, lavish balls, and extravagant banquets. Every smile you had forced, every polite word you had spoken, felt like a betrayal to your own heart. Each gesture had been meticulously practiced to maintain the illusion of a perfect, adoring spouse. It had been a punishment for your rebellion, a flex of control he had over you.

Wyll had promised that if you kept up appearances, doted on him like any loving spouse would he would cull his killing, be more fair, he promised. You couldn't risk lives on account of your disobedience.

Wyll sat beside you in the opulent carriage, his demeanor regal and composed, a stark contrast to the exhaustion etched on your face. His charm had dazzled throughout the day, but now, as the carriage made its way back to the palace, the veneer of public perfection was beginning to crack, revealing the toll it had taken on you.

You tried to maintain your composure, sitting upright and attempting to mask the fatigue that had begun to weigh heavily on you. The extravagant robes you wore felt like it was suffocating you, the layers of fabric adding to your discomfort. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy, the day's relentless schedule leaving you drained.

Wyll, ever observant, noticed your struggle. A faint, knowing smile played at the corners of his lips as he watched you fight to stay awake. His fingers absently stroked the plush seat of the carriage, a reflection of the casual ease he felt in his own surroundings.

“You look like you’ve had quite enough, my dear,” he murmured, his voice soft and velvety, tinged with a hint of amusement. “But I do so enjoy seeing you play your part so convincingly.”

Despite his teasing tone, there was a genuine warmth in his gaze. He reached out, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch tender and almost affectionate. The gesture was a reminder of the complex emotions that lurked beneath his authoritative exterior, a blend of possession and genuine care.

You tried to stifle a yawn, but it escaped despite your best efforts. The weight of the day's exertions was too much, and soon, your resistance faltered. With a final, weary sigh, you leaned against him, unable to fight the pull of sleep any longer. Your head found its way to his shoulder, and the moment you relaxed into his side, a deep, contented sigh escaped you.

Wyll’s smile softened as he felt the weight of your head on his shoulder. He adjusted his position slightly to make you more comfortable, his arm slipping around you in a protective embrace. He leaned his head closer to yours, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in a hushed tone.

“There it is,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “This is how it’s meant to be. You, here beside me, where you were always meant to be. Perfectly in your place.”

His fingers gently stroked your arm, the touch tender and soothing. He watched with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness as you slept, his heart swelling with a complicated blend of pride and affection. There was something deeply fulfilling about having you by his side, even if the circumstances were far from ideal.

Wyll’s eyes softened as he gazed at your peaceful expression. The public façade, the power plays and politics, seemed to fade into the background as he relished this private moment of closeness. The carriage’s swaying motion and the warmth of your body against his were reminders of the bond he had worked so hard to cultivate, even if it had required sacrifices.

“You see,” he continued, his voice low and intimate and as if you were paying attention to him, “despite everything, this—us—is exactly as it should be. I always knew you were meant to be mine. The world may change, and our roles may shift, but here, in this moment, we are exactly where we belong.”

He adjusted your position slightly, ensuring you were as comfortable as possible. As you slept soundly, Wyll’s gaze lingered on you, the satisfaction of having you close intertwining with a more profound sense of connection. The complexities of his rule and the sacrifices made were momentarily forgotten, replaced by the simple, tender reality of the moment.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Escape Attempt:

You try to escape - keyword, try.

The moonlight filtered through the heavy drapes of the palace’s chambers, casting long, haunting shadows on the walls. You had waited for the dead of night to make your move, seizing the moment when Wyll was occupied with his endless stream of duties. With the carriage parked safely away and the guards’ movements meticulously timed, you had slipped out of the palace with a mixture of hope and trepidation.

The streets were quieter at this hour, the usual bustle replaced by an eerie calm. You navigated through the shadows, your heart pounding with the anticipation of freedom. Every footstep felt like a victory, every turn away from the palace felt like a step toward reclaiming your autonomy. The city, which had once felt like a cage, now seemed like a maze you were desperate to escape.

But as you darted through the narrow alleyways, a chilling realization began to dawn on you. The streets, which had seemed so welcoming in their quietude, felt increasingly like a trap. The shadows seemed to move with a menacing purpose, and a disquieting silence hung heavy in the air. It was as though you were being watched, the sensation of being pursued more palpable than ever before.

Your breath quickened as you quickened your pace, but it was only a matter of moments before you were abruptly halted by the appearance of a figure emerging from the darkness. There, illuminated by the soft glow of a distant streetlamp, stood Wyll—composed, unruffled, and as impeccable as ever. He was mounted on a majestic steed, its dark coat gleaming under the moonlight, and his gaze was locked onto you with a mixture of amusement and something darker.

“You really should have stayed put,” Wyll said, his voice smooth and unhurried. “I do so hate having to chase you through the streets at this late hour, I would much prefer chasing you through the forest in the sunlight.”

Your heart sank, a mixture of resignation and anger flaring within you.

“How… how did you find me?” you demanded, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay composed.

Wyll’s smile widened, his eyes glinting with a mix of triumph and something that almost resembled affection.

“Oh, that’s the easiest part, my dearest. You see, I’ve been tracking you with a little help from my own personal magic. I did learn a thing or two from Mizora afterall.” He reached into the folds of his elegant cloak and produced a small vial, its contents glowing faintly with a dark crimson hue.

You stared at the vial, the sight of your own blood contained within it sending a shiver down your spine.

“Isn’t it just fantastic?” Wyll said, his tone dripping with mock enthusiasm. “A simple enchantment and this little vial are all I need to ensure you’re never too far out of my reach.”

The realization struck you like a cold wave. Wyll had been tracking you all along, his control over your every move a chilling testament to his power and obsession. You were nothing more than a pawn in his grand game, each escape attempt merely adding to his sense of superiority.

“You psychopath,” you spat out, your voice tinged with both anger and desperation. “You’re a monster.”

Wyll pouted dramatically, his eyes widening in faux hurt. “Oh, such cruel words spoken to your husband. I’m simply doing what’s necessary to keep things in order.”

He dismounted gracefully from his horse and took a step toward you, his presence imposing yet somehow still oddly charming. You tried to turn away, determined to escape him once more, but Wyll’s voice halted you.

“I wouldn’t turn your back on me if I were you,” he said smoothly, his tone a dangerous blend of charm and menace. “It would be such a shame if some dreadful illness were to spread through the prisons. You wouldn’t want to be the cause of so many innocent lives suffering, would you?”

You froze, the threat implicit in his words clear, Wyll’s veiled threat was enough to make you reconsider your escape. The thought of innocents suffering because of your actions weighed heavily on your conscience, the knowledge that you had inadvertently become a potential vector for disaster forcing you to rethink your resolve.

With a resigned sigh, you turned to face him, your eyes filled with a mixture of defeat and reluctant acceptance. Wyll’s smile was one of triumph, though he did his best to maintain an air of effortless charm.

“Good decision,” he said, his voice a blend of satisfaction and tenderness. “Come with me, and we’ll return to our home. After all, we wouldn’t want any unnecessary suffering, now would we?”

You moved towards him, the weight of his threat making every step feel like a reluctant surrender. As you walked beside him, Wyll’s demeanor shifted subtly, his gaze softening with a hint of genuine affection mingled with his usual possessiveness.

“Let’s not dwell on this unpleasantness,” he said, his hand lightly brushing against yours in a gesture that was both possessive and oddly comforting. “We have our lives, our roles, and our place in this world. All will be as it should be, and you will once again be by my side where you belong.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

There we go part one of the Dark!BG3 Wyll catch up, part two is on the way, let me know what you guys thing, I cherish every reblog and comment <3 - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter thirteen - three’s a crowd

[series masterlist] [previous chapter]

warnings: mentions of sa in terms of unwanted advances, swearing, torture, blood, violence, death, description of injuries, cuts, derogatory names, slightly steamy at the end?? whaaaaat!!!?!??!

word count: 4.7k

a/n: there is mentions of elements of sa in this chapter. I wont ever include explicit sa, but the characters i’m going with are assholes in general, and as a woman this shit unfortunate seems realistic in the way i’ve discussed. pls do not interact if you don’t feel you can, your mental health is always more important. i did mention it earlier that there would be elements of this, but i’ll always put it in the description as well. i hope the way i’ve written it does not make it seem like i am using this subject as a plot device, but rather a realistic deduction of a conversation, but it is cleared up. pls stay safe and i love u all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

You stood back as the splash of water woke up the Colonel with a jolt, Frank letting go of the bucket with the movement. It smashes into his face, and you aren’t sure which one was the thing to wake him, but he opens his eyes anyway.

“There we go.” Frank slaps him in the face a few times as his eyes start to open.

“Where the fuck-“ He’s cut off by his own scream of pain, Frank driving the sharpened blade of a knife into his right thigh.

“I think you know how this is gonna go, yeah? You are gonna answer every god damn question she asks, when she asks it. None of your cryptic bullshit.” The Colonel picks his chin up from his chest, and his eyes find yours over Franks shoulder. Frank grabs him by the hair and yanks his head to the other side. “You got that?”

“You need me alive if you want to question me.” The Colonel spits blood onto Franks face, and a sick sort of smile crosses his face. “You can threaten all you want. I know you won’t kill me.”

“Nobody needs you. Half your men are dead, and the other half think you’re safe and sound underground. No one’s coming for you. Now it’s just you and me.” The Colonel doesn’t say anything else, just groans and cries out in pain again as Frank does something you can’t see with the hand next to his head. Then he shoves him, turning around to face you.

Before you’d woken him up, you and Frank had only had about five good minutes to discuss how you were going to handle this. Luckily, you didn’t need a whole lot of training in this department. There would be no good cop, bad cop crack. You needed to straighten out the story, and unfortunately for you, he was the missing piece. The Colonel was weak minded, you knew that from the two months you spent with him, as well as how easily he folded under your threats.

Switching spots with Frank, you crouch down in front of the man. There wasn’t a part of his body that wasn’t broken or bleeding, leaving you little territory to make your claim on. You’d find something. He always managed to.

“Not the reunion we were expecting, is it?” You say, squinting your eyes a little. It was hard to figure out where he was looking this close up, bloodshot eyes shaking too much to focus.

“If you want to draw the Gnuccis out, you’ll need me alive. You’re a smart girl – I know you are, even if you played dumb.” You resist the urge to spit in his face.

“Where are they keeping him?” He drops his head back, the fake medallions on his chest clanking together. The position reminds you the first time you met Frank, coming back to the Colonels base where he strapped you to the chair and slapped the shit out of you. He takes too long to answer, so you repay the favour, cracking your fist into his jaw. “Answers, or I’ll start taking trophies.”

“Trophies.” He shakes his head “It’s almost funny. Bobby always wanted you to be cut throat like that, but he could never break you enough. Turns out one round with the Punisher was all you needed.”

“Are you right handed?” You ask, picking up Frank’s knife from the table, ignoring his slight jab.

“What?”

“You always used to hit me with your right hand.” You flatten out his hand on the table, dragging the chair he was tied to across just a little. “So, educated guess. You’re right handed.” His eyes widen, and you can see desperation flooding his face.

“If you kill me, you’ll never find your brother. I’ll let him burn just like they did to your parents-“ You cut off his little finger, severing it in one go. He screams, just like they always do, and then starts crying. Frank doesn’t move an inch, just stands behind you, observing.

“We feeling more friendly now? You wanna tell me something?” Teeth bared, he strains and looks up at you. He looks at you how you used to look at him, when he strapped a bomb to your wrist and forced you to kill dozens of people.

“I already told you; I don’t know where they are.”

“Maybe I just take off the whole hand. I’ve never been very patient.”

“Okay. Okay, just stop. I’ll – I’ll tell you what I know. Just stop.” You put the knife down on the table and stare up at him, still crouching to his height on the chair. “Bobby came after me, when you got out.”

“Not good enough.” You pick the knife up again, and he thrashes in the chair.

“Wait! Wait. He came after me, and told me if I didn’t get you back, he’d kill me. He was the one who set us up at the docks, and gave us the location of Silo. He’s – he’s been watching me, waiting for you to come. He knew you would. He just didn’t expect you’d have company.” His eyes flick over to Frank, who says nothing, just clicks the safety off his gun.

“He knows now?”

“Of course he does. Who do you think switched off the motion sensors and took over the cameras?” Well, that explains how dozens of people were moving in and out of that place for weeks without being noticed. The cameras must be being fed a loop. “And now he’s coming for all of us.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me. If I ran again, he said he would hunt me down and kill me. Now I’m here, and you’ve just put an even bigger target on your back.”

“You tried to run?”

“When you escaped, I was left with little choice.” He spits, all anger directed to you as if you put him in this situation, and not his own choice to team up with the country’s most notorious crime boss. “It was going perfectly. You only had to wait four more months, and you would have been back with him.”

“So you lied to me. Again. ” You snarl, and Frank puts a hand on your shoulder. The Colonel catches the gesture and stares up at you.

“You should pick your help more wisely.” He changes the subject. The smile on his face reveals his missing teeth. “I could have given you whatever he has and more.”

“Was that before or after you strapped a bomb to my wrist and forced me to kill your enemies for you?” He shakes his head, the weight of it swinging to each side manically.

“You were built for this! Built for violence - you crave it. Bobby had you locked up down there in Washington - wasting your potential. I only gave you what you wanted.” He leans forward, his breath lingering in your face. “Admit it. It felt good - getting outside. Killing again. I made you feel that. I could have given you freedom.”

“I wanted nothing to do with you.” His eyes roam across your face, down to your neck, and then stop, landing on something. You knew the hickey Frank gave you was still there, and it almost burnt under his gaze.

“Jesus Christ. You really did whore yourself out - for what, a little gun power? I could have given you all of that if you’d opened your legs as easily as-“ Frank is suddenly next to you, cracking his fist into the Colonels face. You hear a bone snap, and blood pours from his nose.

“You finish that fucking sentence, and it’ll be the last thing you say.” His voice is deadly low, and before you think better of it you’re pulling him out of the room, closing the door to the bedroom leaving the Colonel strapped to the chair.

“This isn’t going to work if you keep up like this. He isn’t built like one of your targets. He’s-” You sigh, losing the words. You knew Bobby Gnucci would be coming for you - he’d spent the better part of twelve years creating you, it was expected he would want to make good on his investment. Other than that, the Colonel gave you nothing but a headache.

“We kill him. Now. I’m done waiting.” His face was twitching, it’s the most on edge he’s ever been around you.

“What is it?”

“What is it? I wanted him dead two hours ago.” He goes to push past you, but you grab him, yanking him backwards. If you weren’t you, he would have gone straight through you.

“That’s not it. Why are you so pissed off?” He was clenching his teeth, nostrils flared. You lower your voice. “Is it because the kids were down there?”

“What?”

“The kids. At Silo. You said he didn’t hurt them, though, right? Look, if you want this to end now, I will go out there and tear his head off myself. I’m just trying to - if I lose my brother because of him, if he knows something - anything I can use. I will never forgive myself if I let him get to me. We have one shot at this.”

“It’s not the god damn kids.” You saw a glimpse of them - it seemed like they hadn’t seen the violence like he’d inflicted on their mother. On you. You’d be able to pick it. “You hear what he’s saying? About-“ Your sigh cuts him off.

“Oh, Jesus. You want to throw this thing away because he called me a whore?” You almost laugh, trying to bury that warm feeling in your chest when Franks eyes look up to you, confirming your right. “If that was the worst thing he’d done to me, I’d be doing backflips.”

“What are you say-“

“Frank. Focus. If I can shove it down, stomach it for the next five minutes while we finish this off, so can you. You have no right to be angrier than me. Not at him.” You know your face must betray you, because in the mirror in the bathroom, you can see your just as hard in the eye as Frank is. He breaths out once and nods, a soldier ready to take orders, no matter how much he doesn’t like them. “Okay. Good.”

He follows you out, the Colonels attention snapping to the footsteps coming out of the bathroom. He was bleeding badly from his leg and hand. You were pressed for time.

“Guess I’m lucky.” The Colonel says, voice horse.

“How so?” You swing a leg over the chair in front of him. His eyes weren’t trained on you, but on the man behind you, who you had no doubt was squeezing the life out of the barrel of his gun, waiting for him to make a move.

“That you’ve got the Punisher so pussy whipped. Leash on so tight - he’s practically a dog. It’s nice to be the one in control for once, hm?” You were nodding, trying to play it as cool as possible so Frank didn’t jump over you and snap his neck.

“You know none of that shit worked on me back then.”

“Ah, but you talk so much more now. Besides, maybe it’s not you I’m trying to work on.” He still isn’t looking at you.

“Okay. So, you lose me, and Bobby gets guys to come after you. You try to run, it doesn’t work out, so he gives you one more chance to bring me in. Let’s you try to redeem yourself, use yourself as bait, knowing I’d come for you. Why wasn’t he there himself? Surely he didn’t trust you enough to do this on your own.”

“Like I said. He didn’t know you were making so many friends.” You look over to Frank, who’s closer than you realise.

“Just the one. So he bailed?”

“He was in a car out front. Waiting for us to bring you out.” You scoff, leaning back in the chair.

“Never wants to get his hands dirty. Sounds like Bobby.”

“We done here?” Frank looms above you, and the Colonel straightens in his chair.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” He lets his head slump to the side. “Could get anyone on their knees with that mouth. Had Mr. Gnucci just as whipped, though he wasn’t as pliant.”

“Wait.” You push Frank back as he moves towards the Colonel. “What do you mean by that?” Your head shoots up. Bobby hated you - he treated you no better than shit under his shoe. You could never understand why he poured millions of dollars into research for a person like you, especially after his father died. It was his mission, his research, not Bobby’s. You figured it was some kind of family legacy bullshit he’d been tagged with. But if there was something else…

“You were his present. His last gift from his father - the promise of something new. He was obsessed with having you, owning you. Even I knew that, and I only knew the man for a few months.” You put the knife to his throat. “Why do you think he’s doing all this? Hiring me, taking my deal? He needs you to build a new empire - no one will stand against him with you. He needed me to earn back your alliance.”

“Why would that work?” You press the knife further, and he leans back, swallowing. “How would you win my alliance with him?”

“He still had your brother. The plan was to win you back, make it seem like I had stolen you. He’d swoop in, take you back. Make you trust him again.” The information makes you feel sick. He wanted to paint himself as the hero to you - to save you from the situation he put you in. It was all so twisted and obsessive - you wanted to scream.

“Why lock me up then? Why leave me down in that cage, alone, for fucking years?! Huh?! You tell me why someone who needs me holds my brother hostage, and locks me away! If he needed me so damn much, why the hell did he do this to me?!” You were yelling in his face, fist clenched around the knife. You wanted to drive it into his skull so badly, but you knew you were close to the end. Just one more minute.

“You know why. Why do men do anything? This is why America needs me - women drive men like Bobby, men who have all the power, all the money they could need to insanity. I would have been the answer!” His voice is cracking, you know he’s yelling but it’s softer than when he used to scream at you after a mission. Your knife was drawing blood on his throat. You were so close to snapping. So close. “You can’t - wait. Wait, my men, they’ll-“

“What? Kill me? If I’m what Bobby wants, then I’m the last person they’ll kill.” If the Colonel was telling you the truth, Bobby was in some sort of obsessive family rabbit hole, or some kind of twisted lust with owning you. Either way, it sounds like he’s overstayed his welcome.

“He’ll kill him. If they don’t, Bobby will.” His eyes flick behind you to Frank and you crack your fist into his head. Frank’s body is nearly pressing behind you, a reminder to remember where you are. His presence makes you suck in a breath, grounding yourself. “You either let me live, and I put a stop to my men, or kill me, and an entire army comes for you.”

“Do you remember the day you found me?” Your face screws up with anger. “I asked if I could trust you, and you strapped a bomb to me. Why the fuck would I trust you now?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” The words make you smile. Getting up, you grab more of the rope and tie the middle of his body tighter to the chair, then tie his feet together. Finally, you gag him, making sure it’s firm, and drag his chair over to the corner of the room, away from anything and everything that could be used as a weapon.

Frank hasn’t moved, still standing in the centre of the room. You walk straight past him, heading for the bedroom, and only when your about to shut the door does he follow. You can hear the Colonel trying to say something, but the gag in his mouth muffles it to a yell.

“Well, I’m not going to take him to the bathroom, so that’s gonna have to be your duty.” You say as Frank locks the door behind him. He was moving too quietly, too soft, and it was starting to freak you out a little. “Frank?”

“What happened when you were with him?”

“You know what happened.” You look down at your arms.

“Not Bobby. The Colonel. If you want that piece of shit to have a chance at living through the night, you gotta tell me what he was talking about.” He was breathing like you did when you were having a panic attack, in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

“Frank, you’re freaking me out.” Your eyebrows bunch together, and he clenches his fists once.

“You can tell me.” He steps closer to you, slow like he’s approaching a wounded animal. “Did he - he touch you? When you were with him?”

“You’re still on that? Look, the guys he employs - they are bottom of the barrel. I mean, you’ve seen the shit they say about women online. They tried to provoke me - like he was doing, just then. Called me names, tried to get close-“

“He laid a hand on you?” Frank goes to turn back to the door, goes to leave, but you pull him away.

“Listen to me. I’ve dealt with men like that my entire life. When I was working for Bobby, most of the men I was sent to kill were just like him. Assholes who were desperate for any inch of female attention. ‘New America’ was the same type, just a different font and a whole lot less money. It was a new place, they didn’t know what I could do, or if they did they didn’t believe it.” He took another step towards you, hands balled at his side. “Whatever they put near me, I tore off. Same shit happened with Bobby and his men at the beginning. It was the one thing I could actually prepare for.”

“Is this all supposed to make me feel better about lettin’ this asshole live?” You scoff, resisting the urge to shove him out the room. A new kind of anger burns through you, and your talking before you can think.

“I’m not trying to make you feel better, dickhead. I’m explaining something that you asked me about. Something that I, for your information, don’t ever have to share if I don’t want to. They see a woman, broken down, and think they have a right to take what they want. They don’t, and I made sure they knew it.”

“And-” He tries, but you’re too far gone. It almost feels good, to yell like this. Not have to think. Let yourself be angry.

“And what?! You wanna interrogate me? Tie me to another radiator? You don’t think this shit is traumatic enough to have to sit through? To let him say shit like that to my face, to you, and I just have to sit there, listening?”

“I’m sorry.” It’s far too late for that, tears were flowing down your cheeks and you were yelling so loud you thought anyone would be able to hear.

“No! Fuck you! You think because you kissed me one time I owe you an explanation of every detail of my life? Does that - is it changing shit for you? Too much now that you know it wasn’t all fucking sunshine for me down there?!” He steps forward, not put off by your anger one bit. He would take whatever you threw at him, and you were throwing your entire tank.

“That is not what I was saying. Don’t put those fuckin words in my mouth. This doesn’t change a god damn thing.”

“You sure? It did for Bobby. You know, he locked me up for a reason. Like an idiot, I thought it was because I broke his rules, went out on my own, but now I think he might of been jealous. Pissed something touched his toy before he’d broken me enough that I would let him do it himself.” Frank said nothing, just stood there and let you scream at him. “I fucked some guy, some security guard working at a bar I was casing. I wanted to make my own choices for once in my fucking life. I wanted that to be the one thing they couldn’t take from me. He found out, and threw me down in that cell. The last thing he said to me was ‘I hope it was worth it.’ They sent me the guys head two days later. Left it in there with me until it rotted and the rats came.”

You take a shuddering breath, not realising how much you were crying. That’s when Frank finally moves, and pulls you against his chest. He was still covered in blood, but it was dried out now and nearly cracked on his shirt with the force of him hauling you to him. He held you, let you cry into his shirt, and eventually you wrapped your arms around him, too.

You know he didn’t deserve what you said, but you were angry. So fucking angry that the Colonel would say shit like that - insinuate that anything had happened in front of Frank. You hated him for it, hated him for making you feel small or powerless, because you weren’t. Even without the enhancements, the only weak ones were the men who taunted you.

“I - I didn’t mean - they didn’t. I’m so-“ You hiccup between choked sobs, and Frank just held you, hushing you while walking backwards towards the other door in the bedroom that leads to the small bathroom. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay.” He whispers into your hair, and you try to just focus on breathing.

In for seven.

Out for eleven.

Frank holds you tighter, and it’s not until he picks you up and over something that you realise he’s pulling you into the shower. You were both still caked with blood and dirt from the night, but everything had moved so fast you almost forgot about it.

He leans back against the concrete wall, turning on the shower with his other hand. The hot water works weirdly well in this place, and the warmth runs down your back, making you press into him. Neither of you say anything, you were still crying, but it wasn’t so much because of the Colonel. You were angry at yourself for being so effected by it. You wanted so badly to put it behind you, but every day you were dragged further and further into it; the end getting further away the longer you ran from it.

“I’ll let you clean up.” He mumbles into your hair after minutes of silence pass, but you shake your head. The last thing you want right now is for him to leave. He still wasn’t close enough, with his arms around your back. He whispers a little ‘ok’ and stands there with you, both fully clothed as the water runs red.

Your cries get fewer and further between, and you can feel your body relaxing under Franks strong hold. The water melts some of the blood off you, but your clothes feel heavy the more water clings to it. Frank’s hands slide lower on your back, gently grabbing at the hem of your shirt. You lean off him, hands coming over his, and pull it over your head without hesitation, discarding it somewhere else.

“Something about you and showers.” You say as your breath comes back to you, and he looks down, hands coming to the side of your face. You were expecting a laugh, maybe an eye roll, but he leans down and kisses you instead. Lightly, like the first time.

“Every guy has his thing, huh?” Smiling, you grab at his shirt, slowly pulling it up and over. He winced slightly, and you lean back, getting a proper look at him. There’s a cut across his bicep, deep enough that two hours later it’s still an angry red colour. “Don’t worry about it.”

He tucks your hair behind your ears, using his thumbs to wipe away any remaining dirt and blood. He leans you back a little more, putting your face directly under the water and you splutter dramatically, making him laugh. The sound of it makes you forget about everything before, the Colonel outside, the Gnuccis coming for you. Everything stops, and you just look at him.

“I’m sorry. For what I said.”

“You do-“

“Take the apology. For once.” You sigh, and he pulls you forward and kisses you again. Harder this time, water running down both of your faces, Franks hands going past your cheeks and into your hair. Just as you lean into him, he pulls back. The blood running from his hair covers his face in a clear red. “You got soap in here?”

He leans away, grabbing a bottle of some kind of liquid that’s probably been there for years and squirting it all over your head. You grab it from him and return the favour, using way too much. You were smiling, laughing like neither of your lives were as they are, like you weren’t just sobbing into his arms minutes ago. Letting the blood run down the drain, he turned you around and took his time, running his hands through your hair and down your neck.

Fingers splayed on your shoulders, running down your back, taking his time. His face drops to your neck, lips brushing against the clean skin. You move your hair to one side, and he runs his fingers through it, letting his hand come over the top. He’s too careful, skipping over the bare skin of your chest, over the seam of your bra, landing on your stomach, and he presses you back into him, making you gasp.

“Feels good, Frank.” He still had one arm around your stomach, the other practically massaging the muscles in your shoulder.

“Yeah?” He says against your skin, and you almost shudder at the sound of his voice.

“Mhmm.” One of his fingers skates along the hem of your pants, dipping under the seam by just an inch, then slides back along your stomach. “Should take them off.”

“We got company.” He says unconvincingly, reminding himself more than you. Your eyes flutter closed.

“I don’t give a fuck.” His other hand drops, both of them now resting on your hips. You turn your face to his, kissing his nose, and he looks up at you.

“Listen, I-“

“It’s okay. If you can’t.” You say it softly. The water is running clear over your faces, only red at the bottom where you were still wearing your bloody clothes. His eye is starting to turn purple again. It’s rare to see him without any bruises on his face, the old ones having just faded out. “I understand.”

“You gonna let me talk?” You raise a hand and put it over your mouth, and he scoffs and shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“Hm.” You say through your hand, glad that it’s hiding your face from him.

“I like being here with you.” He pulls your hand away, slowly dragging it over your slightly bruised lips. You keep staring at him, in awe of the confession coming from his mouth. Moments pass, and you don’t even realise he was waiting for you. “You uh- be real good if you could say something now.”

“Oh, can I talk?” He rolls his eyes, smiling. “I like it too. Whatever it is.”

“Whatever it is, huh?”

“Well, I like it when you kiss me here.” You lean up, pressing your lips to his and snaking a hand up behind his neck. “And here.”

You pull his head back down to where it was, Frank obediently following your gentle pull, tongue darting out before his lips press right under your jaw.

“There?”

“Mhmm.” You can feel him smile against you, and his hand does that same little trick, sliding just an inch under the seam of your pants. “Have you… since your um-“

“Yeah.” You thank God he figured out what you were saying without having to say it. “Once.”

“Special lady?” He smiles again, and goes a little lower with his hand.

“Sure. Met her at a bar. Never saw her again.” His teeth graze the same spot as last time, and you arch into him.

“Classy, Castle.” You feel better. You weren’t sure you could handle being his first since… well, her. You could feel the ring on your spine, the chain of his necklace cold against your warm skin.

“What about you?”

“When-“ You gasp when he abruptly spins you around, lips attaching to your collarbone. “When would I of had the time?“

“Good.” He grumbles.

“Jealous?”

“Maybe.” You hook your arms around the back of his neck, encouraging him to meet your eyes.

“So what are we doing?“

“You tell me.” Everything he does makes you shiver, the last of the soap sliding down the side of his face. You run your hands over his now clean hair, no blood rushing out of it.

“I thought I made it pretty clear last time.” Your thumb brushes over his lower lip.

“You stopped me.” You pull back, squinting at him.

“No I didn’t. I was giving you an out.”

“Why would I want that?” You shrugged, and you felt his hands get tighter on your hips. “If it was up to me, I would have kept you up all night. Wouldn’t of slept for days.”

Your toes curl at the idea, all the thoughts you’ve had over the past few weeks crawling their way to the front of your brain.

“I only want what you want. Tell me, and it’s yours.” He breathes against your mouth, and you say the words you’ve been dying to say, but never had the courage. You still close your eyes when you open your mouth.

“I want you, Frank.”

“You got me.” The water shuts off, and in the next moment, your legs are in the air, wrapped around him, and nothing has ever felt more right.

[next chapter]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

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[versadies]

I loved the Xiao House Husband fic sm!! Thank you for writing it :3

There is this episode in the series where it's Miku's birthday and Tatsu prepares her a small party and brings her a gift?? I wonder how genshin house husbands would attempt to celebrate reader's birthday??

Love your writing btw <3

perfect plans, imperfect problems (the way of the househusband au!)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ YOU HAVE RECEIVED A LETTER, LET’S SEE WHAT’S INSIDE! ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

salutations. PERFECT PLANS, IMPERFECT PROBLEMS

addressed. diluc, thoma, xiao, zhongli, arataki itto, kaeya, scaramouche, and childe (w/ gn!reader)

content. fluff/no-angst, spoilers to scaramouche’s real name, mentions of violence, mentions of knife, attempted cut limb (finger), slightly crack-fic on childe’s part, slightly suggestive on childe’s part but it doesn’t mention anything naughty, this fic is based on the way of the househusband

sypnosis. in which they celebrate your birthday but encountered little problems along the way.

penpals. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @hoshikistarlight @shenhesl0ver (go visit my taglist if you’re interested to apply!)

links. the way of the househusband au | teyvat’s penpal service navigation | requests

post-script. i’m glad you love the xiao as a househusband post ! i hope you enjoy this fic as much <33

THE ONES WITH THE FOOD - diluc, thoma, xiao

birthdays are something DILUC does not value nor celebrate anymore since it brought certain memories that made him become the man that he was before he met you, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to celebrate your birthday and work hard on planning your birthdays.

usually it was adelaide or someone else that was entrusted to plan your party while diluc distracts you by going on a date with you back when he was still a yakuza-boss, so now that he’s alone with no one to help him out, he decides to just rely on making food and invite your family and friends to come over for a dinner party.

he was really thankful that he took baking classes from the nice elderly couple in the neighborhood, he would’ve spent the rest of the day trying to decide which cake would be to your taste in the bakery shop nearby. not to mention the fact that he already has all the ingredients needed to make the perfect cake for his perfect spouse.

he makes sure that the party is good enough to make you happy and that all the foods are to your guests’ tastes as well. unfortunately he’ll be quite distracted from cooking because he didn’t remember that you’ll take an early dismissal and leave from your work early, causing you to stumble in your kitchen catching the sight of your husband walking around the kitchen cooking a lot of foods in a cute pink apron that you bought for him as a joke.

he’ll be shocked to say the least when he feels the familiar feeling of your arms wrapped around his body, causing him to stop cooking and look at you with his mouth open agape.

given that your family and friends will take a long time to arrive, you then decided to spend time with your lovely husband by helping him out in the kitchen preparing more meals for your upcoming guests before he could protest about it.

“am i not allowed to spend time with you on my birthday?” you said with a frown. “besides, it’s been a while since you and i have cooked together, right?”

diluc tries to retort, only to shake his head and let out a sigh in defeat.

“fine, but don’t try to steal any of the cookie dough under my watch.” he said, watching you let out a “hooray” sound before you grab your apron and put it on top of your working uniform.

by the time the dinner party almost ends, he gives you a small box that contains many cookies that you wanted to steal earlier in the kitchen.

THOMA will absolutely make a feast fit for a king just for your birthday. every single meal is all homemade by yours truly and will make every single professional chef cry and quit their jobs. the devil works hard but the househusband thoma works harder for his spouse.

he knows your allergies (if you have) by heart and makes sure that every single meal doesn’t have any of them, wanting you to have the best time on a day as special as your birthday. he makes sure that your friends will distract you from going home while he busies himself making foods – not to mention making a gift that you’ll surely like.

sometimes thoma will distract himself because of taroumaru, who has his very own small apron that you bought online and he looks so adorable that he just had to take pictures! but alas, he can’t send it to you, not when it’ll reveal the fact that he’s planning your birthday party.

by the time thoma finishes up with everything, he’ll realize that he forgot one thing.

a cake.

well, it’s true that thoma doesn’t forget things like this often since he’s worked with someone like ayato, but he was so focused on cooking every single of your favorite foods that he just forgot about baking a cake – and with the time he has left before your friends will take you back home, he doesn’t think he’ll have enough time to finish baking it DD:

so he decided to just wing it and just make a run towards the nearest bakery shop his phone can find, hoping that he won’t somehow encounter you and your friends along the way.

to his relief, the bakery shop was still open and he didn’t come across you or your friends. it’s like everything has gone smoothly just the way he likes it!

it wasn’t until he arrived back to your shared home when everything did not go smoothly.

the moment thoma arrives, the first thing he notices was your shoes and the car that’s parked right in front of your home, causing the man to panic and run to your front door. he didn’t even receive any messages from any of your friends about coming home DD:

it was too late when he entered, for he sees you standing by the living room playing with taroumaru – who’s still wearing his mini apron.

however, much to his relief, you actually haven’t gone to the kitchen yet since you were distracted by your dog (thoma takes note to himself to give taroumaru a lot of treats later).

expect him to immediately help you with your things and put your coat somewhere by the hanger before leading you to the kitchen and dining area in excitement.

you could only gasp at the sight of the numerous foods displayed on top of your table, mouth open agape to which he mistaken as a reaction of happiness, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with a grin as he greets you a happy birthday.

as much as you’re touched that your husband made so much food, the only thing you’re worried about is how the hell you’re going to finish all of it alone with the help of thoma.

unlike some of the househusbands, XIAO would call a delivery just because he thinks all the dishes that he can cook aren't good enough for your birthday party. however, he will cook at least the ones he knows you’ll like: desserts.

besides almond tofu, xiao knows how to cook other desserts as well – mainly because he found out that you have a liking towards desserts and decided to learn how to make said desserts. so with your birthday coming up, he decided to try and bake cupcakes for you :DD !

it took him a while to search for one recipe on the internet that has all the ingredients that he has at home and suits your tastes, and it was worth it. though, he often flinches away when he notices that you’re literally near his phone since he doesn’t want you to find out that he’s planning on making them.

the tough part is the actual process of baking them.

not only does he have to make the whole cake, but he also has to make his own frostings as well. did i mention that he has to make sure to finish it by a few hours before you come back from your family’s home?

nevertheless, it’s nothing xiao can’t handle. if he can handle finishing tasks earlier than desired, then he can handle finishing baking and decorating cupcakes before you get back, right?

he can not.

everything was a mess, he somehow had the cupcakes burning, there was flour all over the floor and counter, his entire attire was covered in ingredients – he doesn’t even know what went wrong from the beginning. with the amount of time he has left, he’s sure that he won’t be able to make another batch of cupcakes before you arrive. on the bright side, at least the delivery arrived..?

it’s safe to say you were more than flabbergasted when you walked in the kitchen to see what looks like a battlefield as your husband stands idly aside with an apologetic look on his face, disappointed with the fact that you had to see this chaotic scene and the fact that he wasn’t able to succeed in baking cupcakes for your birthday.

xiao will be cheered up a little once you reassure him that you’re happier to spend your birthday with him no matter if you didn’t receive any cupcakes, and that it’s all about the thought that counts.

though, there was one thing that he decided to do as punishment.

“XIAO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” you exclaimed, screaming as he pulls out a kitchen knife from his pocket and places it against his pinky, his face filled with regret.

“consider this as my punishment for messing up the kitchen and for not being able to provide you a proper cake.” he explains. before he could slice his pinky clean, you immediately tackled him in panic.

“what on earth did mister zhongli teach you?!?!?!”

THE ONES WITH THE BEST TIME - zhongli, arataki itto, kaeya

ZHONGLI values time with you, so it’d be great if you’re able to have a day off and spend the rest the day with him on your birthday. if you’re unable to have a day off, it’s fine as well since zhongli can wait until you get home.

expect him to feel excited about celebrating your birthday since he didn’t manage to celebrate your previous birthdays back when he was busy with his yakuza responsibilities, so he’s definitely going full all out in his first time planning your birthday. to his delight, you’re allowed to have a day-off.

he even planned ahead of time and made the perfect plan for the occasion: a nice usual breakfast in bed, a nice morning stroll around the town, go to a nice restaurant for lunch (with him paying this time), a nice shopping spree together, and of course: a nice picnic spot where you spend your dinner while watching the stars.

except, the perfect plan wasn’t so nice.

everything’s all but a blur. he accidentally overcooked his food after getting distracted, making him unable to give you your favorite breakfast, the skies suddenly started pouring rain as soon as the both of you walk out from your home, the restaurant you and zhongli were supposed to go to was somehow closed because of a flood from the rain, shopping spree was immediately canceled because the mall is far from where you and zhongli are and it’s sort of too dangerous to drive at such a heavy weather.

star-gazing is out of the question because it was still raining.

the man could only sigh in disappointment, sad that he wasn’t able to fulfill his perfect plan for your birthday.

however, you were all but unfazed by the unfortunate events.

when your husband walks inside your shared bedroom to tell you that his last resort in making up the canceled plans is also out of your choices, you were no longer in your room.

instead, you’re outside of the house playing with the rain happily, much to his shock.

“zhongli, what are you doing standing over there?” you yelled, laughing as you spin around the backyard. “come get your raincoat and join me!”

he frowns. “dearest, shouldn’t you be coming back here? you’ll catch a cold if you don’t come back here!”

“why should i? it’s not like we have anything else to do!”

he stays silent, still standing by the door with a worried look etched on his face.

you stopped yourself from playing with the rain for just a moment, still smiling. “you don’t have to be sorry about the fact that your plan went up in the rubble. i’m more than satisfied with my birthday since i get to spend time with you!”

despite the words that slipped from your mouth are all simple and perhaps cheeky for some people, it was good enough to make him feel overwhelmed and feel like the temperature around him has grown warm despite the current condition.

you then continued speaking. “all i wanted for my birthday for the past years was to be able to spend more time with you, so please zhongli,” you slowly walk towards the man, dripping from the rain that was pouring down on you until you’re now a few steps away from where he is, lending him your hand. “would you at least give me the chance to have fun with you under this weather?”

you didn’t have to ask twice.

ITTO is very enthusiastic when he realizes that your birthday is coming up. and what better way to celebrate than to spend the rest of your birthday with your number one best househusband?

given that you expressed that you just want to stay in your home since you’re exhausted from your work, then your wish has been granted! every single activities you can do are now indoors just as you wished. he has all the ingredients he needed for cooking your (and his) favorite meals for the day, made sure to do every single tasks he needed to do in his farm so that he doesn’t have to do anything else, brought out a few games to play, and he even found a movie that the both of you can watch together for a romantic date!

unlike zhongli, itto managed to complete every single thing – it’s amazing how he’s able to be this productive and finish everything in a jiffy.

the first thing he did in the morning was to take care of his farm animals first and harvest all of his crops before retreating to his kitchen and starting cooking meals. he made sure to make meals that are from your hometown just so you can have at least a reminder of your beloved hometown. (if only you knew how much convincing itto had to do for your family to hand over their recipes to him).

itto almost fell from his steps thanks to his excitement in bringing your breakfast to you, but thankfully he managed to stop himself from falling before proceeding to rush towards your shared bedroom. it’s truly impressive how not only was he able to cook your favorite meal and present it to you when you wake up later than he did without any problems, but he had also made cute shapes of animals and hearts alike just to put them on your plate proudly.

“i learned these from youtube in a week!” he exclaims, grinning when you take a bite of his meal and hum in delight. “so, what do you think? did i do a great job? i even made ushi over there!”

by the time the both of you finished your breakfast, itto will then grab your plates and rushes back to the kitchen to wash the dishes, giving you time to get ready for the day.

it’s a really cute sight to see your husband vibing with the music playing in the background while washing the dishes – you just can’t help but go to him and hug his huge muscular figure from behind – much to his flusteredness because you weren’t supposed to see that !!

for the rest of the day, the two of you played games from both board games and virtually, it was honestly a fun day for you, you have to admit.

however, there was one problem that sorta ruined your night with itto.

what the man didn’t do was to check the warnings of the movie he saw, thinking that the poster looks cool enough for him to assume that the movie is good for you two. so while the two of you lay on top of the couch together with itto massage your legs, he had never expected the movie to start playing.. an unexpected scene.

never in your life have you seen your lover grabbing the tv remote and turning it off at such a speed – and you honestly don’t blame him because.. what the hell did you two just watch?

“uhm, why don’t we just watch something else, you know?” he spoke up with a nervous laugh, and you could only stare at him with your mouth open agape.

if there's one thing you know about KAEYA, he loves a scavenger hunt, so you weren't exactly surprised when you woke up alone with a note nearby that explains yet another scavenger hunt. you could only let out a sigh before starting your day and participate the scavenger hunt.

to your amusement, you had indeed encountered a lot of notes written by your lovely husband, who is still not seen around your home. with enough clues that you've found around your home and street, you concluded that your location is a certain restaurant that you two would frequently go.

and that’s exactly where you went to.

when you arrived at the restaurant, dressed in the most formal outfit you can find in your closet, you immediately headed towards a certain receptionist who knows you and asked if kaeya was around, only for you to find out that he didn’t visit the place recently, much to your confusion.

…if your birthday celebration doesn’t take place here, then where?

meanwhile, kaeya was panicking for his life because why on earth are you not in your home? when jean visits your home to take you to where kaeya is, she finds no one at home at all, causing him to try and call for you. he panics even more when you don’t answer any of his calls. you can’t be kidnapped, are you?

the same thing goes for you, unfortunately. you’re unable to call your lover since the phone immediately died after you walked out from the hotel, leaving you no choice but to stay put in the taxi as you’re on your way towards your home, trying not to be too worried and not overthink about your lover’s plans.

by the time you arrived, you immediately went towards your home to charge your phone so that you could call your lover, only to find jean walking out from your home in a panic frenzy.

it’s safe to say that you and kaeya had an oopsie moment.

nevertheless, jean managed to clear up the misunderstanding and told you that kaeya had something else planned, causing you to feel embarrassed because holy crap did you really just go to the restaurant for nothing?!

the moment you arrive at your actual destination, the first thing that caught your eye was the beautiful view of a garden and a violinist playing a romantic song, followed by your husband standing beside a table with a bouquet in hand, his shoulders stops being tense when he spots you.

“i take it that you had an error with your scavenger hunt, love?” he teases, chuckling when you slap his arm playfully and scold him about being more specific about your destination in one of his notes.

“forgive me, i didn't think that the birthday star would go to that restaurant," he said, holding one of your hands and caresses it with a grin. "if it makes you feel better, i've also booked a certain hotel where we can sleep there for the night, hehe."

THE ONE WITH THE GIFTS - scaramouche, childe

SCARAMOUCHE isn’t good with verbal affection, so physical affection and gifts are his go-to when it comes to showing you how he loves you so. when it comes to celebrating your birthdays when he was still a part of the yakuza, your lover would only give you gifts since just like childe, he's not always there to celebrate your birthday with you. now that he's a househusband and is able to spend time with you on your birthday, he'll make sure to make up for everything he missed throughout the past years with you.

after a lot of thinking, he decides to go for a simple but valuable places to go for your date: a fancy movie cinema that has couple seats (with him booking the entire seats surrounding you two so that there won't be any strangers sitting beside you and him), an aquarium, an observatory where you can check out the stars together, and of course: a restaurant that he booked that shows you the best view of your city at night.

of course, let's not forget the gift that he's been thinking about for the past week.

the gift is a basket filled with things that he bought, knowing that you'll love it once he gives it to you. oh, and of course: promise rings that he personally had someone made that has engravings of "i love you, y/n" and "i love you, kunikuzushi" inside.

everything went well, to scaramouche's relief. you're able to watch a movie while cuddling next to him (he wonders why the room was starting to get very warm), visit the aquarium to see your favorite sea animals (he swears that the plushie you bought will be his sworn enemy when cuddling you), and the observatory was gorgeous (he tried his best to make sure that you won't be able to encounter a certain blonde woman, who he saw with her husband together in the observatory). not to mention the fact that you look absolutely breathtaking in the photos he managed to take with his phone, especially the picture where there's a dolphin behind you while you're smiling for the camera.

all that's left is the restaurant and his gift.

the moment the servers left you two alone with your served meals, scaramouche took his cue to bring out the basket that he made the restaurant keep in your reserved table. just as he predicted, you love the gift (he pretends he didn't hear your question about the price tags of the things he bought) – giving him a heartwarming kiss on the lips.

oh and let's not forget the promise rings.

you watched as scaramouche brings out a small box before opening it to show you his most valuable gift to you, causing you to gasp at the sight of the beautiful rings that glints from the moon above the night sky.

however, the romantic atmosphere soon died as soon as scaramouche stands up and accidentally trips from his steps thanks to a cat that was blocking his way.

you could only watch your fallen husband, who was too stunned and embarrassed from what just happened, while trying to stifle your laughter.

he lets out a deep breath, looking down at the unbothered cat. "...fu–"

back then when CHILDE was still a part of the yakuza organization, he was unfortunately unable to celebrate almost all of your birthdays back then since he’s always away from town and only drops off a gift. so now that he’s no longer burdened with his responsibilities and has all the time in the world, you better expect him to to make up for the lost time with you.

the only problem is, what kind of gift should he give you?

even when childe is no longer a yakuza boss, he’s still filthy rich, so he always spoils you whenever he has the chance. now that he basically gave you every single precious thing he could find for so many years, what else can he give you?

jewelry is out of the question since you already have a lot (thanks to him) as well as clothes and things alike. it doesn't mean he's frustrated though, he will always spoil you rotten no matter what no matter what you say – and besides, he sees this as a good challenge.

more like, a tough challenge.

no matter what gift childe could think of, you either have it already or won't like it, leaving him with less and less options to choose for your gift as time flies by. it wasn't until he decides to ask your friends what you'd like.

"oh? you're here to know what y/n likes?" chongyun, xiangling, and xingqiu looks at each other questionably. "no offense mister tartaglia, but shouldn't you know your spouse well?" chongyun spoke bluntly.

the ginger could only hide his irritation, still smiling. "oh but of course i know them well! but you know what i'm talking about, don't you?"

xingqiu copies the man's expression, closing his book shut. "of course we do, mister tartaglia,"

"but do you know that we don't tell each other gifts that we'll be giving to the birthday star?"

"what–"

"go think of a gift yourself."

unfortunately, the same thing has been said by your other friends, leaving childe once again in a dead end. he only has three days left before your birthday- and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to get a gift on your birthday since he has to plan the whole party as well as cooking lots of food with you. it wasn’t until he talked with his mother when he finally found a solution.

on the day of your birthday, your husband is… suspiciously happier than ever. not in a way that you’ve seen when he was a battlelusted yakuza maniac, but in a way that you’ve seen when he has something up in his sleeve.

it’s even more suspicious when nothing strange happened throughout the party at all. you could only anticipate the worse, but when will it happen? you’re not going insane over this, are you?

as soon as the party is over, you finally found the reason of your growing suspicion against your husband, who’s currently in your bedroom lying down on the bed half-naked with a smug look on his face.

“…what the hell is this, tartaglia?” you spoke, raising an eyebrow.

“well, i couldn’t exactly think of a gift that’ll satisfy you anymore since i’ve given you basically everything,” he explains, before gesturing himself. “so that’s why i decided to give you the best gift ever in all of teyvat: myself!”

you felt your cheeks starting to warm from his words. “you are not gonna do that on me, tartaglia. where the hell is your shirt?!”

your husband pouts, grabbing his shirt that’s folded neatly on the nightstand beside him before putting it on. “i’m only joking my love, your words truly wound me!”

you sigh in relief, trying to ignore the fact that your cheeks are warmer than the oven. “you better be joking… i was supposed to leave you alone and clean up the house by myself.” you mumbled, looking away from childe in embarrassment.

he immediately head towards you before wrapping his arms around you from behind. “and what kind of a househusband would i be to let my dearest spouse clean everything up by themselves? there’s no need to be embarrassed anyway, you’ve already seen me half naked when you walked in on me chang—”

“and this is when i’ll be taking my leave and start cleaning.”

childe holds onto you tighter before you could try and get away from his grasp. “i’d like to give you something first before we leave and clean.” he said, his tone now sincere instead of teasing.

you suddenly realized that he was holding something in his hands, causing you to look down and see what seems to be a clothing.

it’s a scarf. the kind that matches with the one that childe has.

“i realized that i haven’t given you a scarf that’s exactly like mine, so that’s what i went with for your birthday gift.” he explains, placing it on your hands with his arms still wrapped around you as you stare at the scarf in awe.

“happy birthday, y/n.”

[marblemoovt]

Nightmares - Mondo Owada/Reader

Masterlist 

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: None, just good ol’ fluff and angst (happy ending)

Summary:

Let's face it, surviving a psychopathic teddy bear will give anyone nightmares. Luckily Mondo and you have each other when the nightmares are extra rough.

--------- "Get the fuck away from me you goddamn bear!"

Note:

I am currently posting a few of my old works from Wattpad onto ao3, and now tumblr! Keep in mind that most of these are probably a couple of years old. And while they might make me cringe, as old writing tends to do, I don't think I'll ever rewrite any of them due to sheer laziness. I hope you enjoy reading these tho!

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

"Get the fuck away from me you goddamn bear!"

.

.

.

.

You groggily wake up from your slumber, eyes cracking open with great difficulty. In the darkness, you can make out the faint silhouettes of the furniture in your bedroom, but what caught your attention was Mondo's turning figure. Concerned, you sit up and observe that he's mumbling in his sleep again, shouting nonsense at random times. You bring a hand up to his forehead and notice that it's covered in sweat. Coming to the conclusion that he must be having a nightmare, you attempt to wake him. You shake his shoulder but receive no response.

"Mondo, dear. Wake up. You're having a nightmare again," you say in a hushed tone, repeating the line a little louder when he continues mumbling. Despite your efforts, Mondo remains asleep. Looking at the clock, the LED digits display 3:00 AM in bright green.

"N-no! Y/n! You fuckin' bastard. Don't touch them!" Mondo shouts again, this time a trickle of tears flow from his eyes. A twinge of pain stabs through your heart and you start to grow restless. You grab his hand and squeeze it three times, a little thing the two of you created to signal 'I love you'. This made it convenient for moments where one of you is unable to properly express their feelings or just times where a small reassurance is needed. 

"I'm right here, Mondo. Nothing's happened to me. I'm safe." You try to get through to him. "So please wake up. You're having a nightmare, none of it's real." Your throat feels heavy and your chest is being smothered by a cold ache. You were desperately trying not to cry in case Mondo could hear you, not wanting to add further distress to his current state.

Then, as if Mondo finally heard your pleas, your hand was squeezed three times. He bolts upright and scans the room frantically, sighing in relief when his purple irises land on you. "Thank god you're ok. I thought... I thought you died," he whispers shakily. He takes a moment to catch his breath before continuing, "I thought that stupid fuckin' bear dragged you away to be executed and I couldn't do jack shit to stop it."

You rub your thumb across the back of his hand and brush away the tangled locks that clung to his forehead. "It was only a nightmare. Monokuma can't hurt us anymore. We didn't succumb to despair and we managed to escape with everyone else." 

Mondo, still visibly shaken from his nightmare, pulls you into an embrace. "Well shit," -he buries his face into the crook of your neck- "it sure as hell felt real. I wanted to tear that stupid bear in half when I saw him hurt you."

You run your fingers through his dishevelled hair, cooing words of comfort into his ear. His body relaxes and becomes slack against yours. "Let's head back to bed, we can cuddle and I'll hold you until you fall asleep again."

"Like hell, you will. How can I call myself a man if ya gotta hold me at night," he replies, quickly shutting down your offer. His words cause you to frown and you feel a little hurt.

"Mondo, you don't have to be the one holding me just because it makes you a man." You squeeze his hand another three times and smile weakly. "You know, it takes a real man to be able to admit when things are tough and to ask for help when needed. You're always doing your best to be strong for me, so why can't I be strong for you?" you ask. "Why won't you let me comfort you? Must I spend the rest of my life feeling like I'm weak and need to be protected?" You finally voiced your concerns, divulging the issues that have been bugging you since you started dating Mondo.

He twiddles his thumbs and a blush slowly creeps onto his cheeks. "I don't want you to look down on me," he mumbles meekly. "I'm afraid that if I show a moment of weakness that-"

"That what?" you interrupt. "That I'll think less of you? That I won't love you anymore for being weak?" Mondo's silence is an affirmation of your assumptions. You shake your head in disbelief and put your hands on his shoulders. "So you think I would do all of that just because you acted as any other human being would? Look, I know you grew up thinking that you had to be strong" -you force him to meet your gaze- "and you were receiving pressure from the gang because your brother was the leader, but you have to realize sooner or later that strength isn't everything."

"Y'think I don't fuckin' know that? Hell, Y/n. You don't know how it feels livin' in someone else's shadow." He runs a hand through his hair, his face contorting in a mix of emotions. You bring a hand up to his face and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes. "My big bro is the strongest person I know. I got a lot to live up to, and I thought that after I promised him to look after the gang I could finally show just how strong I am. That plush piece of shit was the first time I felt so weak," he spits out bitterly.

You push Mondo down onto his back and roll off him onto your side of the bed. Covering yourselves with the blanket, you spoon him from behind. "Just this once, let me be strong for you. Let me show you how relieving it feels to share your burden with someone else."

"....." He doesn't say a word but grabs your hand and squeezes it three times. You smile and snuggle into him, squeezing his hand back. Admittedly, it felt awkward at first for you to wrap your arms around Mondo's muscular body. At one point you even felt like a little gorilla clinging onto its mother, which nearly made you wheeze. 

"Feeling better?" you ask, resting your chin on his shoulder.  He nods, lost in thought.  He sighs and turns over to face you, a sorrowful expression greets you. You kiss him sweetly, burrowing yourself into his chest. "What's got you thinking?" 

"Just thinkin' about that school and how much I miss Daiya and Chihiro."

"Why do you miss them? You can always see them again in the morning."  You awkwardly smile, caught off guard by his strange behaviour. 

"What're you sayin'? I can't see them. I killed them," he states as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. A chill runs down your spine. 

"But that doesn't make sense. We escaped the school with everyone and Daiya is happily living in retirement," you contradict, sure of yourself that this time you made sure that everyone made it out alive.

"I held their corpses in my arms for fuck's sake. Didn't I tell ya that I made that promise with Daiya as he was dyin'? He died cause I was weak and he had ta protect me."

"No, that's wrong!"

"And I killed Chihiro because I couldn't be strong like him, I let my jealousy become my weakness and I caved his skull in." 

You begin to panic. This wasn't supposed to happen, things were supposed to go differently this time. Suddenly, the alarm clock starts to ring, playing a familiar tune.

*Ding  dong, bing bong*

"Good morning, everyone! It is now 7 a.m. and nighttime is officially over! Time to rise and shine! Get ready to greet another beee-yutiful day!"

You jolt awake, dread flowing through your veins. You were no longer in your bedroom and Mondo was no longer beside you. The familiar, bland-looking room fills your vision and the camera in the corner whirrs as it observes you. It had felt so real. You could almost feel his hand squeeze yours again. You remember now though, remember how you failed to stop him this time. Covering your body was Mondo's overcoat, a memento Makoto let you have. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as your lips begin to tremble. Burying your face into the overcoat, you can still smell his scent. 

The nostalgia overwhelms you and the tears finally spill down your face. In the midst of your sorrow, a familiar bear pops out from nowhere. You clench your teeth and glare at him. "You sick-minded bastard." If looks could kill, Monokuma would be bearing a large hole through his head. "What do you want?"

"Puhuhu, I just thought that you would appreciate this gift I got for you!" The split smile on his face made his words appear both innocent and menacing. He takes out a box wrapped neatly with black and white wrapping paper. Noticing your hesitation, he shoves the present into your arms. "Go on, open it. Why don't you see what your wonderful headmaster got for you?"

You tear the paper and open the box. "No!" You gingerly take out the container and spiral into utter despair.

"I know when people decide to be cremated, their ashes are often kept by their loved ones. I know it's not exactly the same, but if it makes you feel better, he was absolutely scrumptious! XD" In the box was all that's left of Mondo, an empty tub of butter. You clench your fists so hard that your nails cut into your skin, the blood trickling down your hand. "I love it! That look of despair on your face suits you! It almost makes me want to see how much more I can twist that delightful expression of yours!"

You tremble with grief, but it quickly becomes fury. "I'm sick of playing your games." You lunge at the oblivious bear, pinning him to the ground. "Go to hell!" You bash his head with the container, only succeeding in tearing the fabric.

Spikes appear from the ground and impale you from various angles. You violently sputter out blood, the metallic tang filling your senses. However, you still manage to glare defiantly at him. "What a shame. You could have been such an interesting toy, but rules are rules, and you broke them. Don't worry, I'll figure out a way to use your death to throw all the others into disarray! Puhuhuhu! I'm getting excited just thinking about it!"

You can't make out anything after that as you fall unconscious from severe blood loss. Maybe you'll get the next one right.

.

.

.

In the dark abyss, you can faintly feel your hand being squeezed. The sensation is fleeting, almost like a phantom's touch. You try to move but remain rigid, only managing to twitch your fingers slightly.

"Babe! Babe, wake up!" You can feel it again. Someone is squeezing your hand, specifically squeezing it three times. Slowly regaining control over your body, you grasp their hand, opening your eyes.  Purple eyes reflect the soft glow of the lamp next to the bed. "You were havin' one of your sleep paralysis nightmares. That shit looks terrifyin'. I don't know how you put up with it."

"Mondo?" You look around, unsure whether you were still dreaming. Your shoulders shake as your chest is wracked with sobs. "I thought that I messed everything up and that you died and got turned into butter." Mondo shushes you and draws you into his arms, patting your back to comfort you.

"Butter? I swear you have the strangest dreams. You know me. I'd pummel the poor sap who tries to churn me into butter," he reassures you, kissing your forehead lovingly. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses each  finger, starting from the fingertips to the palm of your hand. "I did as you said. I squeezed your hand three times until ya woke up." 

You smiled and wiped away your tears. Having gone through so many runs, you've forgotten which one it was that you created the gesture with Mondo. "I love you, Mondo." You squeeze his hand. He gives you one of his rare smiles, an expression so soft that it easily cuts through your worries. 

"I love you too, my Diamond," he replies, completely shielding you in his arms. "C'mon, you need some more sleep. Wouldn't want those pretty eyes of yours to look like a raccoon's." You chuckle and lower your guard, allowing your shoulders to sag and your body to sink into the bed. Surrounded by the faint scent of motor oil and Mondo's muscular arms, you drift off into a peaceful sleep.

There was no need for a next time. You already did get everything right. All that's left now is to enjoy this timeline with Mondo and the rest of your friends.

─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───

End Note:

In case you didn't catch it, it is implied that the reader has lived through multiple timelines and is aware of it. The nightmares are of the timelines where the reader has 'failed'.

Reblogs are appreciated!

[moongumi]

BAD GIRL.

pairing: gen narumi x f!reader

⟶ cw. camgirl!reader, fanboy!narumi, fluffy humour, flirting, smut, oral

sypnosis: narumi uses his fame and power to get his favourite camgirl to meet him o.O

⟶ wc. 2.7k

a/n: not proofread or edited, just wanted to indulge on some cute and fun narumi

Small whimpers and high pitched overexaggerated moans barely slips out of his headset. Chowing down on his overpriced honey butter chips and sipping on too sugary redbull, Gen Narumi couldn't keep his eyes off the screen.

He could tell, the girl was acting for the audience. Those noises were so fake, he'd laugh everytime she made them and a creepy loner would type in some cringey exposé, expressing their love to her. She'd never notice such dudes, she only notices their money and did that money just keep coming in. Narumi imagined all the amazon deliveries she'd get if she spent all of that.

Narumi didn't care that she was acting, playing it up for the viewers. All he cared about is that she's hot, so fucking hot. She couldn't fake how wet she gets, the way she cums, she probably could but why would she do that. She always likes to take her time, edging herself and all.

Even though she was hot, he only knew how hot her body was. Unlike most camgirls, this one hid her face, half her face. Her eyes would piece through his core whenever she'd touch herself. He couldn't even count how many times he came with just one look she made, just a flicker does the trick.

A knock on his door made him slip one of his headphones off, "What?"

"You've got a meeting in 30." Narumi's vice captain told him, his response was just a loud groan. Sadly, this means he'd have to cut her stream short. Fuck. She only streams every once in a while, this girl had no schedule and just streamed whenever. She claims she does it when she's horny, he bets it because she's in school still. The schedule matches up, plus the identity hidden, makes sense. She'd make a lot more if she showed her face, must've just been a side hustle.

Narumi could only hold his grievances, and focus on making himself bust a load before attending the meeting. Luckily for him, the girl was ending her stream.

She didn't even cum yet...

"Sorry guys, I just realised I have something due tomorrow and that I'm an absolute idiot who forgot and now can't cum because of stress." You're blushing as you twiddled your fingers on stream, watching all the people sending messages asking for you not to leave and a lot understanding and even relating, "Don't worry, I promise when I'm done tonight I'll come back, okay? Maybe like in the ams though so stay up for me? See ya later."

You send kisses before ending the stream, and dropping onto your plush bed with a large exhale. "Fuck my life."

You did have that assignment, you did not lie. Blowing a raspberry through your lips you huff and get off your bed. You crack your knuckles and get to work by changing into a plain hoodie and shorts.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──���

It was time to give up and cry. Yes, you've managed all you could and could not be bothered any longer to do your essay. If anything all you could think about was getting back on stream and leeching money off ratty men.

Which is exactly what you did.

This time deciding to do it on your table with your setup, not bothering with setting up your bed and laptop. This was just simpler, plus you were sure there weren't going to be many viewers due to the time.

3.50 AM

Preparing only with a mask on covering the lower part of your face, only your eyes were the focal point for your audience. After all, you'd die if someone noticed you in school or something.

Immediately as the red button pops up on your screen, chatters streamed in. Simple hellos and compliments started it off. Then they noticed your attire, the same hoodie.

You hummed, rolling your eyes, "Guys, come on it's like basically bedtime. Can't a girl be comfy?"

It was sort of your thing, to tease and taunt your audience. Most of your followers were probably subs or guys who liked getting told what to do since you rarely did what they asked and god, did they eat up your bratty persona.

"I did finish my essay," You start, "Sorta. I did what I could and gave up."

Playing with the strings on your hoodie as you looked at the webcam with siren eyes, you answered more and more questions, "Hmm, I'd love if you came and did my homework for me, I'd even reward you for your kindness."

Wow, they loved that.

You leaned closer to the mic and asked, "Who wants my hoodie off? It's sort of hot in here now...even though it is winter. I never got to finish earlier."

You stood, only your body in frame now. Peeling the hoodie off in a painfully slow pace, your shorts have hiked up and they could basically see the outlines of your ass cheeks between your legs. Your hips, waist then covered tits showed. The hoodie disgarded.

You sit back down, pressing your boobs together purposefully. Just a plain bra you work, comfort over everything at the moment. It is sort of the trend, girl next door. Fully fabricated overly sexual girls who showed all right away weren't the biggest on this app, left nothing to imagine or dream for. Plus, why give it for so little when you could do private shows and make them pay hundreds.

A comment stuck out more than most and you replied, "What do you think of the Defense Force?"

"That's so random," You laughed, "They do their job, I guess but I can't care less."

Which wasn't a complete lie, the defense force members are just like the police or firefighters. Sometimes you think it's probably the way they're advertised, the media aways posted about Mina Ashiro and all about how hot she is and not all she does for our country. She deserves a lot more respect. Then theres that first division captain, super arrogant and cocky guy, you didn't even know his name. Just remembering something about him being the strongest.

"Do idolize any?" You were confused, "Like one of the members? Nah."

"Why?"

You huff crossing your arms, "They're not that special, but I do like Mina. But there's that captain of the first division he's an absolute dick."

Most of the chat agrees with you but you notice the one chatter who stood out only to you.

nahnahgen: gen narumi?

nahnahgen: he's like hot right?

"I guess he is hot," You nod, "But that's all. Seems like a prick."

Gen Narumi's mouth drops, his fingers still on the keyboard. God, he wanted to slam his entire strength on it and break it right now. What did she mean, a prick? He needed to know more.

Typing quickly.

nahnahgen: a prick? elaborate

On Narumi's screen you chuckle, eyes not leaving the screen. Even now he was more focused on your answer than those jugs on your chest.

You think it over before continuing, "Well, he's like super fame hungry right? I heard he was like telling kids to tweet that he's super cool after he saved them from a Kaiju. He seems to have some moral issues and plus mid fight the guy tells kids to tweet about him instead of helping them get to safety? Seems pretty dicky to me."

Narumi fumed seeing the chat agree. He needed to prove her wrong, he wanted to prove her wrong.

nahnahgen: if he's good looking, isn't that enough?

"Like enough to... fuck?" You hum, "Yea, I'd fuck him but that's it, haha, probably would be a one-time thing. Maybe he's one of those guys who act like their dicks are huge and then they have like a micro-penis or something."

He sees red, he grits his teeth. My dick is not a small! He really wanted to prove it. He'd do anything to get your cocking on his dick, begging for him and proving you wrong in every which way.

"The guys probably never even had pussy in his life," You teased, "He seems like the type to never give oral. Literally seems like he'd just cum and leave."

Well, fuck you. Narumi hissed.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sitting in one of your lectures you were typing away on your phone to your bestfriend and looking at places to have lunch.

Ding!

Huh? That's weird. You were getting a text through an app even though you don't let people text you unless...you were following them.

GenNarumi has requested to chat with you!

Okay? You accepted, there was no harm right. You weren't even sure if this was the actual Narumi.

GenNarumi has shared a photo with you!

You open the photo to see, a middle finger. What the fuck? This dude really went out of his way to send you, a nobody a photo of his middle finger?

Typing a response right away.

you: Why did you just send me a middle finger?

GenNarumi is typing...

GenNarumi: Cuz I can.

you: aight

Aight? Narumi's eyes widened. That's all you said, and that was all you said since an hour ago. You were ghosting him already. He had to bite his tongue and send you another message.

GenNarumi: you streaming today?

you: huh?

GenNarumi: are you streaming today?

you: i know what you said :P you don't need to rephrase that shit

GenNarumi: oki so answer it

you: stream what?

GenNarumi: the stuff you stream

you: like what?

GenNarumi: idk, the stuff you streamed last night

You stomach sunk, did he actually? He knew, he watches you?

you: WHAT THE FUCK

you: IM LITERALLY GOING TO BLOCK YOU RN

GenNarumi: WAIT WHAT DONT

GenNarumi: Y/N! DONT

You didn't know what to say, but it seemed like he had something to say as he started to call you? You pick up, but say nothing. Holding the phone up to your ear.

"Heey," Narumi spoke, "Don't block me."

You huff but whispering, "Why would I not? How do you know?"

He chuckles lowly, "Why are you so quiet? And what do I know?"

He was teasing you. Playing with you, the thing is there was no way this was a misunderstanding. You streamed last night and talked about Narumi and he texts you the next day, seems convenient.

"I'm in class," You sigh, "You know about my fucking streams and I talked shit about you last night."

"Wait class? What kind class, hold up, how old are you?"

You laughed, sensing how nervous he got, "I'm legal weirdo. I'm in my lecture."

"Oh, fuck thank god." The way he said that was strangely hot, you've only every head the way he spoke on tv, hearing it right in your ears was a whole different experience.

"What do you want anyway?" You ask, "I've got things to do."

"Pft, as if you're actually paying any attention to that class, plus I'm the one with the busy schedule you know saving lives and being cocky about it."

Ok, no need to remind you about your little bashing last night. "I'm going to block you."

He gasps, "Oh my god, don't! Ok, you see you said some mean stuff last night." He was being dramatic, pretending to wipe a tear from his eyes.

"I'd just like a chance to prove you wrong."

You hummed, slightly confused, "How would you do that?"

"Well, you said I have a small dick and can't treat a girl right," He said, lowly, "I can prove it wrong."

Somehow this made your lower half tingle, as if it wasn't hot enough in this room already. "Can we talk about this later?"

"That sounds like a yes," He says, probably smirking or something, "But okay, I'll text you."

With that he hangs up, knowing he's got the upper hand on you. You get a buzz and a phone number is sent to you. God, this wasn't just a cruel joke.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It wasn't like you to go outside but since it was right after class you decided to take a long walk in a random park. In this kinda weather everyone was out enjoying the last bit of the sun before the sun sets.

And that's when you get a text, a text you dreaded.

GenNarumi: Sup

Could he have said anything less annoying. Maybe you were just annoyed.

you: what do you want

GenNarumi: sheesh, no need for your stinky attitude

you: answer it

GenNarumi: you?

you: cheesy try something better

GenNarumi: what? i want you, that's all i've got

you: why? you want some random girl you found on a cam website, you some kind of perv? are you catfishing me?

If Narumi could laugh any harder he would.

GenNarumi: answer the phone

You did as he said when the call came through.

"What?"

Narumi laughs through the phone sending shivers down your spine, it only had been a couple hours since you heard his voice but shit, he had a nice voice, "Is that how you start every conversation we have?"

"Every conversation with you is sus, I'm suspicious of you," You explained, walking over towards an empty swing set as the sun had begin to disappear from the sky.

He sighs, seemingly fumbling through a bag or something loudly, "Look, I'm not a catfish. I've verified on this app! I'm calling you! Haven't you heard my voice on tv before?"

"To be honest, people my age don't really watch tv," You said.

Narumi gasps, "Are you saying I'm old?"

"No," You shrug, pushing yourself back and forth with your feet, "I'm saying if you're referring to me having seen you on tv that's unlikely for anyone my age...to have seen such an old guy on tv."

You smile knowing that he'd bound to be shocked again. "You're so rude!"

"Sheesh, and I thought I liked you."

You heart races, liked you? You clear your throat, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said, I like you," He explains.

You sigh, "I know what you said but you're going to have to elaborate."

"I like to enough to want to show you my dick, come on, isn't it obvious?" Well it was but after all he's a famous hero and you were a borderline pornstar.

He notices how you can't come up with a response.

"I'll show you how much I like you, if you let me."

You chuckle, "How would you do that, Narumi?"

With that, you see a strange figure step our in the mellow darkness only lit by some park lights and the solar lights on the ground. Gen Narumi steps out in casual attire, dropping his phone into his pocket as he walks towards you. You had to be dreaming right, this seemed impossible.

"Did you track my phone?"

Narumi shrugged, "Maybe I did."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The chains on the swing set rattle against its frame. The grass must've been freshly cut since it was digging into your knees as if they were little tiny razor blades. The only thing distracting you enough from raging was the groans being let out by division one's captain.

Your lips swollen around the shaft of his cock, his tip hitting the back of you throat occasionally enough for you to gag on it. "God, you're pretty with tears down your face."

If you could smile through your filled mouth you would, god, he was so good at talking sweet when fucking your throat.

He sat on one of the swing chairs somehow it didn't move much with his legs spread and pants down to his ankles. He didn't lie, he did have a big dick.

He swiftly moves your hair away off your shoulders, holding them up to get a good view but it wasn't like he was looking much- he couldn't. Narumi couldn't help but throw his head back from pleasure every so often.

After his velvet tip leaves your lips he pulls you up, sitting you on one of his thighs and his lips immediately encased yours, wet, soft and hot. It was like he was swallowing you whole.

"Narumi, we're-"

"Gen, don't call me Narumi only my colleagues call me that," He interrupts, biting your lips before he let you go. "Especially don't call me that when I'm balls deep inside of you."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

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