#I could’ve never done it without you my son

[zarifoxx]

OCTOPATH 2 SECRET BOSS SPOILERS

I FINALLY BEAT GALDERA !! my GOD he was MUCH harder than he was in the first game and I’m so glad I don’t have to do that ever again

Armsmaster Hikari carried that second phase btw

ALSO I’d like to congratulate myself for doing it with lv55+ characters and only two lv61’s as my highest leveled cause I was Not gonna level them up for this fight like I did when I fought him in the first game (cause pretty much all of them were around the lv65+ and up to the lv70’s if I remember correctly,, like I’m pretty sure Cyrus was lvl75 lmao)

,, and also considering that this galdera was much worse than octopath 1’s

Throné and Osvald were my damage dealers for the first phase. Ochette carried with shield breaking tbh cause she does not give those damn souls a chance with max boost Provoke Beasts I love her so much for that

[revehae]

do you like it, dr. lee?

pairing ↠ haechan, jaemin, jeno × (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, gangbanging, student x professor, reader is early 30s, mentions of infidelity, age gap (18+)

summary ↠ haechan, jaemin, and jeno are some of the brightest, most accomplished students in your class that never fail to make high marks on the exams. but when they approach you one day in your office, your perspective of them changes dramatically.

wc ↠ 5.4k

a/n ↠ part 2/5 of the college-capades series! connected to sexcapade.

don’t like it, don’t read.

it all happened so fast.

one minute, you were chatting with three of your most wonderful students in your office, and the very next, they had you sprawled out on top of your desk.

your heart was speeding. though you attempted to wrestle your way out of their less than gentle embraces, you couldn’t even take one of them, let alone all three. while somebody was keeping your hands still, another was holding you by the legs.

jeno, who had his palm flat over your mouth, only watching your moist, fearfully wide eyes, leaned into your ear and whispered, “scream and we’ll saw your tongue off.”

when he dropped his palm, you sucked in a breath, face tensing with tears as you willed yourself to be compliant. your head was spinning, dizzy with shock. what was happening to you was unfathomable. these boys were some of your favorite students, the ones who never failed to perform magnificently on the exams, and were sparkling in class.

you felt betrayed, in a way. even your worst-performing student wouldn’t stoop this low, and in the midst of your fright, you wondered what you had done to deserve the atrocity that was today. if there was anybody that you could count on to make you feel as if your dedication to this job wasn’t completely useless, it was these boys.

haechan was standing just shy of you, eyes fixed to that knee-length skirt he loved watching you wear. jeno chuckled when he noticed where his friend’s gaze had fallen, because he found himself glancing there too, but usually when you were facing away from your students.

he always thought about getting you naked, seeing your ass without anything to hinder his view. more often than not, jeno fisted himself to the thought of stuffing your ass full of his thick cock, wondering if anybody had ever fucked you there.

snapping out of his imagination, haechan approached you, shoving your long skirt closer to your hips. instinctively, the first thing you did was try to protect yourself, but jaemin grabbed you and ceased all control. you slumped, whimpering defeatedly, “boys, please stop. you know that i have a husband.”

haechan snickered, amused that that was the card you chose to play. “didn’t really look like you cared about your husband when you were fucking my dad,” he retorted.

rather than beat even quicker, it felt as if your heart stilled. “what?”

jeno laughed boisterously. “would you look at that. she thinks you don’t know.”

“that’s right, baby,” haechan replied menacingly, nothing affectionate about his tone, in spite of the pet name. “you run your mouth and we’ll make sure the whole school knows that you can’t stop spreading your legs for my father.”

donning the sweetest tone, jaemin crooned in your ear, “and you wouldn’t want that, right, sweetheart? you wouldn’t want mr. lee to know that his wife isn’t satisfied with just his cock, is she now?”

it felt as if the whole world was crumbling beneath your feet. haechan was johnny’s son, the offspring of the man you had been hooking up with behind your husband’s back, and now he and his friends were threatening to expose your affair if you refused to let them have their way with you.

your lips were trembling. this is all your fault, you chided to yourself. if you could’ve just been a faithful wife, a committed woman, none of this would be happening. they would have nothing against you, nothing that would stop you from reporting to the closest figure of authority. but you had too much at stake.

though you were no stranger to jeno’s short patience, you had never seen it manifest quite like this before, gripping your hair so roughly you whimpered in a blend of pain and shock. he growled, “he asked you a question. i shouldn’t have to tell you that that called for an answer.”

“no,” you replied shakily.

jeno’s grip only tightened and he pressed, “no, what?”

“no, i don’t want him to know…,” you trailed, because it was humiliating to repeat back aloud, but jeno was still gazing at you expectantly. “that i’m not satisfied with just his cock.”

“see, that wasn’t so hard. don’t be a little bitch and make things more complicated than they have to be,” jeno said, releasing his hold on your hair. you would’ve fallen back had not jaemin been there to catch you, only to then grab the little buttons on your blouse. “we’re doing you a favor, really. it’s a three for one deal. a little whore like you should be excited.”

but you didn’t want them, you didn’t even want your husband. you wanted johnny. it made you wonder how they knew of the affair, because haechan seemed oblivious only a couple of weeks ago. he referred to you as some fucking nurse johnny had flirted with, not his molecular biology professor.

for fuck’s sake, you were a solid decade older than them. granted, johnny was at least a decade older than you, though there was a discernible difference between the age gap between the two of you and the gap between you and your undergraduate students. 

your button-up blouse finally came undone and jaemin didn’t waste a breath before he snatched off your bra, eager to suck your breasts into his mouth. you gasped out when he did, his tongue darting around your nipples. in the same way, haechan yanked your panties off, cupping between your legs without a second thought.

never in your life had you felt more defenseless, powerless. stripped of all autonomy and forced to let other people have their wicked ways with you. you felt nothing short of violated and it made you sick to your stomach, gut tossing and churning with reproach.

through your stinging eyes, blurry with hot tears, you watched haechan sink to his knees in front of your desk. you weren’t particularly enthusiastic about how exposed you were, your breasts out and your skirt bunched just above your thighs. it felt like the closest thing to walking around the plaza half-naked.

obviously, you felt more watched than you would’ve had it just been one of them, but you were at the mercy of three guys that were paying a godawful amount of attention to your bare figure. jaemin was fixed to your perky chest and jeno was watching haechan situate himself between your legs, holding them open for his friend in case you wanted to be defiant.

“haechan, i don’t want this,” you whined, wiping your face with the back of your hand. 

“that’s too bad, baby.” haechan wasn’t even looking at you, gaze locked on your pussy, like that was what you were reduced to. “don’t worry, it’ll feel good.”

you sucked in another gasp when his mouth angled towards your pussy without affording you a notice in advance, your body’s natural instinct being to shut your legs, but jeno was still holding them in place and he was infinitely stronger than you. with the vigorous training that it took to be a member of the campus’ athletic teams, it came to you as no shock, but you were heavily disappointed.

haechan’s tongue singled out your clit while he lapped at you, ravenous. the second he saw you on the first day of class, he knew that he had to have you. so when he found out that you were sleeping with his father, cheating on your husband with haechan’s dad of all people, he became furious. 

neither you or johnny were as good at keeping secrets as you thought yourselves to be. on more than one occasion, haechan saw you leaving their house. every now and then, he would see your name on his father’s phone. and it wasn’t fair. if anybody could please you, if anybody could bring you to heaven and back, it was the boy with his head buried between your legs.

as if matters couldn’t get any worse, haechan actually seemed to know what he was doing. though you would never admit it to his face, the way he was sucking at your bundle of nerves had you throbbing, pulsing involuntarily around nothing. you whimpered and whined, but chewed on your bottom lip to stifle the noise.

jaemin chuckled so quietly it was barely audible, but said nothing as of right now, cupping your tits in his palms and squeezing. his patience was much less limited than jeno’s, who was currently shifting out of his boxers, freeing his raging hard cock. you saw him in the corner of your misty eyes, noticing how rigid and thick his cock was, but said nothing.

what you didn’t expect, though probably should have seen coming, was for him to start jacking himself to the sight of you being mishandled. haechan wasn’t the only one that couldn’t stop thinking about from the moment you locked eyes. matter of fact, that mutual pining was the common denominator of this little team.

all three of them were sick in the head, out of their minds obsessed with you. you would have expected some lethal kind of rivalry to develop out of that, but instead, they were much more menacing about it. they were helping each other get what they wanted.

you were a little overwhelmed from all the attention and jeno wasn’t even touching you, but just knowing that he was stroking his cock for you was more than a little unnerving. jaemin’s hands were so strangely gentle, setting a pattern as he groped you, all the while haechan was eating you out vigorously.

“pretty, pretty. so pretty when you cry,” jaemin sang in a way that could’ve been kind, if you ignored the nature of what was happening to you. then, like he knew your secret and was implying that he wouldn’t tell, he whispered for only your ears, “pretty when you lie, too.”

it wasn’t fair. you didn’t want to like this, just like how you didn’t want to be aroused. but when haechan pushed a pair of fingers inside of your pussy you gushed and tightened around his digits. you were so unstill, it drove him mad, prompting him to go harder.

your brain was empty but racing all the while, thinking, this is so fucking wrong. you were fucking his father, for crying out loud, and even that was wrong. you didn’t care then, so according to their logic, it shouldn’t have made a difference now.

haechan and jeno’s grunts blended into one giant cacophony of sound, haechan moaning with a mouthful of pussy because he couldn’t get enough of the way you tasted and your pussy was spasming around his digits, whereas jeno was grunting because he thought you were most right now when you were deprived of all control.

blood was pumping quicker than ever through your veins, your heart screaming for survival. you weren’t even remotely in control of your own body anymore, seized not only by your three reckless students, but the pleasure burning through you like wildfire.

your office, that was typically admirably ventilated, seemed to hot to breathe in. but your breaths became quicker and shorter, as if there was no space in your lungs, and you started to feel the sweat cooling down your back, reminding you of how naked you were.

haechan was so hard, stiffening in his pants the longer he watched you start to unravel, and he could’ve probably gotten off just from making you cum. you were grinding your hips against his mouth, and his long, slender fingers that were surely getting you there. you might not have wanted to confess the truth, but your body couldn’t lie.

“she’s so close,” jeno commented with a chuckle, addressing you as if you weren’t even there. “fuck, i am too.”

a hole of negative emotions opened then and there and swallowed you whole, namely guilt and humiliation. you didn’t want haechan to make you cum, you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of bringing you pleasure, but that ship had already sailed. 

nonetheless, you parted your lips and begged in between shaky moans, “haechan, stop. please, i’m begging you!”

“he’s not going to stop, sweetheart,” jaemin crooned, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “don’t you see? he can’t get enough of your pretty pussy. you should feel so good about yourself.”

few things in life had ever made you feel this conflicted. on the one hand, this was degrading on way too many levels and you felt forcibly stripped of all of your dignity. but on the other, deep down inside, the sight of haechan with his head between your thighs as he licked and sucked at your cunt was inexplicably arousing.

and that did it for you. you tried to fight it, you really did, but your orgasm completely blindsided you, taking you by the reins and going to town. your lips parted in a cry of haechan’s name, your thighs trembling and heat striking through you like lightning as you gripped onto jaemin for dear life.

haechan continued to go down on you after you orgasmed, just until you finished more or less riding his face, going limp against your desk with only jaemin to keep you upright. you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. all the blood was rushing to your head and your heart was thumping in your ears.

haechan finally pulled back, licking your arousal off of his lips and the corners of his mouth in a way that made your core throb emptily, then asked, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

your ears burned and you said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. your answer was in the way your chest heaved like unstill waters, your fingers still holding onto jaemin’s shirt. like you thought you would collapse if you had nothing to anchor yourself.

jaemin took one glance at you and scoffed, “i think she loved it, man.”

there was something so smug in haechan’s stare, like he just knew that he had you.

when haechan moved, jeno came between your spread legs, still holding his cock while he stroked himself to climax in front of you. like it would never be satisfied, your pussy continued to throb at the sounds you were indirectly plucking out of him, culminating in one deep, guttural growl when he came, shooting his load on your cunt.

though you were (thank god) on birth control, him orgasming there still made you feel iffy. you could feel it trickling down into your hole and hated how eager it seemed to be filled. for half a second, you were convinced that was the worst that could happen.

imagine your shock when jaemin abandoned your boobs, soft and supple as they were, and shifted between your thighs next. you didn’t know what to expect when you noticed him move, they enjoyed keeping you guessing, but it definitely wasn’t for jaemin to lick at your release-stained pussy.

you gasped, “jaemin!”

the sound of him sucking and licking at your clit was lewd, and there were long, damp lines being made with his flattened tongue. while you were appalled, the other watched in amusement how jaemin unabashedly more or less ate jeno’s cum from your hole in a disturbing licking pattern. because where it was a nightmare for you, it was just one giant game to them.

to say nothing of the fact that you had only just orgasmed, sensitive. your thighs couldn’t handle the stimulation and you let out a breath of relief when his mouth separated from you, only for him to stand and force his lips against yours. you resisted, jolting away from him, but your attempts to evade him were in vain.

jaemin didn’t even need to grab your face to keep you still, because there was nowhere for you to hide. it was a disgusting, messy kiss, given that you were adamant on pushing him off. only so much of it was your fault though. jaemin liked it messy, liked how repulsed you were. he liked the grimace you were sporting and the blend of jeno’s cum and saliva dribbling down your chin. the damp spots of his saliva on your cheek from your attempts to dodge him and where his tongue pressed against you instead.

it was nauseating to you. you could taste jeno’s cum on your tongue, even though his cock hadn’t been anywhere near your mouth. and the the taste just wouldn’t go away.

jaemin, at last, pulled back, though only to laugh at the look on your face. “aw, don’t make that face. you liked it, right?”

you parted your lips to say deny him, but jaemin saw it coming and just kissed you again, not one to take no for an answer.

“okay, move your ass,” haechan said after a minute of watching you squirm. you never realized how strong jaemin was.

jaemin frowned, but moved out of the way. not because haechan told him to, but because he had something equally devious running through his brain.

you were baffled when you noticed haechan returning between your thighs, because he should’ve already had his fill. then, you noticed that he had freed his cock from his boxers in the time jaemin spent sucking on your tongue, and swallowed the lump in your throat.

you let out a cry of shock when they spread you over your desk the long way, carelessly toppling over your belongings, and yanked your skirt off your body completely. you were utterly naked, and there was no bit of you they hadn’t seen.

haechan positioned himself behind you, lining himself up at your entrance. there was so much terror in your body at the moment, scared not only for what was to come, but of liking it too.

“please,” you begged, trying to negotiate once more. “you boys should fool around with someone your own age.”

haechan snickered, as if that was funny. he probably thinks it is. “maybe, but where’s the fun in that?”

your jaw slacked when his first thrust drew a pitched cry from the back of your throat. he wasn’t even half as patient as his father would be to sheathe himself completely. johnny would take his time, wallowing in your wetness just before slowly but steadily filling you, inch by fucking inch. haechan, on the other hand, went straight for the kill.

but to your horror, you were soaked enough for him to slip right in smoothly, to say nothing of jeno’s leftover cum facilitating the process. haechan was girthy like johnny too, in spite of all of their stark differences, and you hated that it was so familiar how he was stretching you out.

“wait,” you whimpered, fingers clamping aggressively against the edges of your desk. “haechan, please. you don’t need to do this.”

irritated, jeno nudged jaemin, groaning, “will you shut her up already?”

“gladly,” jaemin chirped, a devilish little smile tugging at his lips.

you lifted your head up when you heard jaemin approaching the side of your desk that you were facing, watching him shuffle out of his pants and boxers, and you quickly started to flail. haechan grabbed your neck, lowered his head, and hissed, “behave, or we’ll have to tell the class that their favorite professor is just a slutty little whore.” 

you stilled, remembering what was at stake. it wasn’t just your career, but johnny’s too. the second it got out that the two of you were involved in an affair, you knew you would both have to answer for your sins.

when jaemin finally got his underwear off, lengthy hard cock standing angrily against his stomach, he positioned himself beside your mouth and crooned, “say ‘ah.’”

“i don’t want to,” you whimpered.

jeno crept over, evidently disgruntled, and there was a resounding smack when his palm landed flat against your cheek. “one more thing from you and your husband’s gonna get a nice surprise in his email,” he warned.

defeated, you silently opened your mouth, letting jaemin push himself to the back of your throat. he let out a pleasant little sigh, eyes fluttering closed, paying no attention to the tears dripping down your cheeks. your mouth was too warm for him to a give damn whether or not you wanted this, to care about what you were feeling.

all the while, haechan’s hands were bruising your hips with the merciless grip he had of them. unlike you, his moans were unrestrained, never shy to reveal the ecstasy making his blood pump and his dick throb. you were so wet, so tight, everything he imagined tenfold. his father didn’t deserve you, not in his opinion. everything johnny could do, haechan was certain that he could do better, even if you didn’t want to confess.

even if he was a lot less caring than his dad would present. you didn’t know johnny, not like you thought. the dark side haechan had didn’t just come out of nowhere. though you would never realize, there was a clear reason why haechan was so sick in the head, especially when it came to you. why he took great delight in forcing you over your desk, stuffing you full of his cock and listening to you cry, struggling to hide that you loved his cock.

“he doesn’t love you, you know,” haechan said none too gently, snickering from between your legs. “i hope you realize you’re just another easy whore. not the first, not the last.”

there was so much going on that you were hoping you could somehow detach yourself from the brutal reality. not only was your body overloaded, but your mind and soul, ripping a hole right through all that you thought to be true.

it was all too fucking much. “your mouth feels so good,” jaemin exhaled, a hand tangled through your hair.

“you should feel her pussy. she’s so fucking wet, dude. and she thinks we’re going to buy that she’s not begging for this,” haechan replied, completely degrading. 

jaemin chuckled breathlessly. you were sucking it out of him, against your will or not. “yeah, i can hear how wet she is.”

jeno said nothing, but you were already too overwhelmed to notice his absence in the conversation. he was engrossed in thought, waiting with staggering patience for his own turn. which wasn’t typical for him at all. he swore, when he was done with you, you weren’t even going to think for weeks. 

between haechan’s twisted smack of his hips against yours and the way jaemin was unabashedly using your mouth to get off, you couldn’t decide which was more brutal. torture was torture, but if it was meant to be so bad, there shouldn’t have been moans slipping from your mouth uncontrollably. there shouldn’t have been a familar weight sitting in the pit of your stomach, waiting to wreck you.

“i know you love this,” haechan said, maybe project just a little, but the body didn’t lie and he could feel you tightening. “i know you love this fucking dick. wish i could hear you say it, baby.”

“that can be arranged,” jaemin quipped, but it took you by surprise when he actually pulled his cock from your mouth. “c’mon, angel. tell haechan how much you love his dick.”

your face flushed with humiliation, but you knew what would happen if you failed to comply. “i...,” you started, hesitant. “i love your dick, haechan.”

haechan smacked your ass, making you stifle a scream. “again.”

you cried out, “i love your dick!”

“i know,” haechan said, sickeningly confident in himself. “i also know that you’re about to cum.”

it was maddening that your husband of ages could hardly even get you off these days but some students in your class were recognizing the signs in record time. you were also ashamed with yourself for being so aroused, for needing to orgasm this badly, but you forfeited control of yourself moments ago.

jaemin had enough and once his dick started to twitch desperately, he shoved his cock back into your mouth, chasing relief for the raging hard-on you’d given him. rather than you sucking him off, it was more of him relentlessly fucking your throat, not stopping when you gagged.

and it wasn’t long before the three of you ultimately came, like a chain of dominoes collapsing after each other. this orgasm was just as powerful as the one that came before, the room reeling as your screams were muffled against jaemin’s stiff cock. your whole body was a thousand degrees hotter. jaemin’s warm cum releasing in your mouth while haechan’s seeped deeply into your pussy.

although you tried to swallow jaemin’s cum, per his request, some of it dripped onto the floor. you were terrified of leaving evidence of this encounter, wishing you would’ve gulped it all back, but then you felt haechan’s cum leaking out of you and your priorities shifted.

“my turn,” jeno said, though that was a given. you were confused when he started to spread haechan’s cum over your asshole, though for the longest you could feel his stare burning through your backside.

baffled, and maybe somewhat startled, you asked, “jeno, what are you doing?”

“shut the fuck up,” jeno snapped belligerently, smacking his palm harshly against your cunt. you cried out in pain, unexpecting. “i’m tired of hearing your voice. just take it.”

but nothing could have prepared you for what was to come. nothing could have prepared you for the merciless way he penetrated your ass, effectively knocking the wind out of you. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, as if all the air in the sky was stolen and hid in this little box somewhere.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to beg for forgiveness for whatever you had done, but no sound would come from your mouth. there was only instant tears, your hands gripped the rim of your desk for purchase. the makeup you were wearing was ruined ages ago, but it had to have looked despicable now, because you were sobbing harder than ever.

“poor thing.” jaemin frowned, pretending to be compassionate. that was something he was good at, you realized. he had you fooled until you saw how recklessly he fucked your throat, and you came to accept they were all too alike.

“she’ll be, fuck, fine,” jeno groaned, careless. he was the roughest of the bunch, the most antagonistic. “this hole is so fucking tight.”

jeno was pressing you against the desk harder than haechan had, roughly mishandling you. it was obvious that jeno didn’t see you as his equal. when it came to you, all he gave a damn about was passing your class and fucking your ass.

never in your life had anyone ever fucked you there before, and the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. you were so repulsed, choking on your own feelings as they killed you slowly. the pain was unbearable, making it impossible to remain still, but that didn’t matter when jeno had you borderline flattened.

it was almost awe-inducing how he held you down with ease, regardless of how strong you thought you were and how violently you were reacting. it was the closest thing to being split open. pitiful little noises escaped you, but you bit them back, because the last thing you wanted was to get caught. somehow, though, the shock was more agonizing than the pain itself.

your agonized whimpers and jeno’s husky grunts made an awkward cacophony. if there was any of them that got off to your helplessness, you knew it was all of them, but jeno had to wallow in it more than either of them.

haechan and jaemin were stroking their cocks to the sight of you being ravaged to the point of total destruction. there were plenty of times in your life where you felt nothing short of broken, but this was a different variant, a kind from which you knew that you would never recover.

jeno couldn’t believe his thick cock was even fitting into your tight, flexing asshole, though then again, whatever you thought you couldn’t take, jeno would make you do. your body was for his own personal amusement. he leveraged himself deeper and deeper, groaning and laughing, using you to his advantage. because what jeno wanted, he always got. every time without fail. obviously, you were no exception to this pattern, even if it was to your own dismay.

your lip was bleeding from how frequently you were biting. all you wanted was to protect your reputation. you had things to lose, things you knew jeno would steal away from you in a heartbeat, because all he did was take.

“she’s such a damn whore, fuck. she should be grateful i’m fucking her,” jeno hissed, aggressive.

given how much you had heard adjacent statements in the past hour, you were starting to believe them, no matter how disparaging they were. you were accepting the cold truth, that this was your punishment for being unfaithful.

quickening his pace, jeno continued, “i’ve never wanted to fuck that nasty little pussy of hers. not when everybody’s been inside of it. but i can tell she’s never had this ass stretched before.”

his words were hurting more than his cruel movements, and you didn’t understand the science behind that. you whined, “jeno.” please, have mercy, was what you wanted to say, but you knew there was no point.

jeno squeezed your neck, cutting off your ability to inhale, and you felt every nerve in your body start to panic. “for the umpteenth time, shut the fuck up. no one’s fucking talking to you, bitch.”

you quieted, face tensing with delirious pain. 

“pathetic if you ask me,” haechan added, breath shaky. “her husband’s dick isn’t good enough for her, so she fucks my dad, and now that we give her three more, she still has the audacity to complain.”

jaemin snorted. “textbook cockslut.”

you wanted to speak, you were desperate to defend your honor and identity, but you had already said enough and you were lucky that they hadn’t already decided to expose you to the whole planet. you had no defenses against them, nothing in your arsenal. 

“begging us to stop, but she won’t stop fucking cumming. needy little bitch,” jeno chided, though judging from his breathlessness, he was far from disgruntled.

jaemin chortled, his cock still close to your face, and it was making you mildly uncomfortable. “maybe we should send her back to the husband with some tips.”

“oh, i’ve got one,” haechan said, beaming with his usual mischief. “hold her down and use her little holes until you’re done.”

“yeah, looks like she loves that,” jaemin retorted. 

jeno quipped, “we should’ve recorded. maybe showed him a tutorial.”

haechan blew out a contented sigh. “well, there’s always next time.”

your heart was taut with fear at the thought of there being a next time, but the three of your students were grinning with excitement, as if they wholly anticipated reliving this moment in the not so distant future.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” jeno grunted, wanting to go even deeper, but there was nowhere for him to move. 

haechan hummed, reminiscing over how good it felt to cum inside of your throbbing pussy. how you milked the cum out of him, bled him dry. “shame she’s on birth control. i overheard her and my dad talking,” he replied, nonchalant. “imagine if we got her pregnant.”

“man, don’t talk like that,” jeno groaned. 

haechan glanced to jaemin, both of them snickering amongst each other. “dude, i was just kidding. don’t tell me that’s actually getting your dick hard.”

“fuck, i’m gonna…”

the most delicious growl came from the tip of jeno’s tongue when he released inside of your asshole, his brows scrunching together with pleasure. his hips finally grinded to a halt when he met his climax, dumping way too much of his load inside. you could feel his fingertips leaving marks that would indefinitely stain your skin, and you dreaded having to explain them to your husband.

when jeno finally pulled away from you, having had his fill for now, your body went limp against your desk. you could have moved, but you were too exhausted. sweat cooled down your back, chilling you to shudders, but there wasn’t a single thought in your head. all you could do was lie there, used and exploited, hoping that life would return to the way you knew it before they broke you.

because right now, it was bland. the only thing you could feel was the soreness in your legs and the cum dripping from your hole, numbing yourself to everything else.

there was so patronizing about the way jeno turned to you, asking with the slyest grin on his face, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

[lokischocolatefountain]

Sundress

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Fluff, slight smut, no angst for once, slutshaming but not how you think)

She laughed freely at something his cousin said, all her nervousness from their journey to Texas leaving her little by little when his family embraced her as one of their own within minutes of meeting her. Oh and the alcohol helped too. He took her hand and played with her fingers as he sipped on his beer, smiling as he felt himself relax in the presence of the people who knew him the best.

It was unbelievable really, being back in Laredo not as the former sheriff who ran out on his bride but as a federal agent with a beautiful woman on his arm wearing his ring. She was here in a pretty sundress, sitting on the sofa in his home, laughing with his cousins as they shared embarrassing stories about him. Pops loved her, just as he expected and he just knew that if Ma was alive, she would love her too.

It could’ve just been his beer-addled mind, but he was so happy with her right there, right then that he would quit his job and just keep her right there in Laredo. He never liked the damn place, always wanted to break free and run off to explore the big bad world. But he also saw the appeal of a small town as he stared into the old picture of his parents on their wedding day. He wanted love like that. And he had it. He wanted to take care of the ranch with her, work where he lived so that he could slip into the house whenever he wanted to kiss her senseless. He wanted to wake up in the morning without worrying about going elsewhere for work and just bury himself in her warmth, make sweet love to her, have the big family he’s always secretly wanted.

“Why can’t I have a baby brother?” He recalled asking his parents, wishing to have a playmate at home. They’d tried. For many many years, they’d tried. But he didn’t know that. “It’s because you’re a naughty boy and I don’t have time for more naughty ones.” Ma said, pinching his cheeks before getting back to work with the newborn foal.

All his cousins had siblings and though he was close enough to them to not long for more kids his age to play with, he was jealous of them and angry at his parents. So he told himself all those years ago that when he was old enough, he would give his son a lot of little siblings to play with. It was stupid and childish really, but the sentiment hadn’t worn off over the years. He would like a big family someday. When they were away from all the dangers his job brought them.

Family and friends flitted out one by one, making Javier grateful that he didn’t have to kick them out to take his fiancé to bed. He loved his family and all but he had been around her for hours without being able to touch her inappropriately and that was getting to him. Kicking his family out to fuck his girl wouldn’t have been nice. And it wouldn’t have done well for his ‘Javi who left his fiancé at the altar’ reputation.

“I really like them,” she giggled as she cuddled into him on the sofa. He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled back to find her smiling wide. He smiled back, unable to resist the infectious effects of her smile.

“Good. And they like you too. Especially pops.”

“Wooo!” She pumped her fist in the air, making him laugh. “‘S nice to have my future father-in-law’s approval.”

“Yeah well, let’s not rub it in my face,” he grumbled, recalling how unimpressed her father was with him. But he couldn’t fault the man. If his daughter came home with a guy who got shot at everyday for a living, he would be more than just unimpressed.

“Aww, Pobrecito,” she cooed before pressing wet kisses to his cheek. “He’ll come around. He’s just annoyed that you would be such a slut and have sex with his daughter under his roof before marrying her.”

“And whose fault is that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. She’d teased him all day, fucking grabbed him beneath the dinner table while carrying on conversation about work with her family.

“Whose fault?” She asked, making her eyes all soft and sweet just like the night she sneaked into the guest bedroom of her family home and begged him to fuck her. How was a man supposed to resist those sweet eyes and their filthy requests that contradicted their innocent act?

“Yours.”

“Mhmm?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay then,” she said, smiling sweetly. Nothing good came out of that innocent act. “I’ll be a good girl tonight. I’ll take my bag to the guest bedroom. Sleep there for our entire week here.”

He rolled his eyes at her and snatched her bottle of beer before emptying the contents in one gulp. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easy.

“Rude!”

“Better rude than cruel, you absolute demon of a woman.��

“Cruel!? How dare you! I’ve been on my best behavior all day. I made your family fall in love with me faster than you made my family tolerate you. Miguel loves me so much that he would marry me if you didn’t. Linda invited me on a shopping trip and José didn’t move from me for hours.”

“José is two,” he said, laughing. Babies loved everyone, right? They were just innocent little creatures who loved everything. Or that was just what he told himself when his base instincts told him to take her to his room and put a baby in her immediately.

It wasn’t his fault. It was the goddamn sundress making her look all sweet and homely and just like something he’d want to put a baby in. He was going insane. Just the sight of her fitting in so well with his family and cradling his cousin’s kid while wearing a ring that declared her his was enough for him to stop thinking practically about all the things they needed to get out of the way before having kids.

“So? He loves me. I’m just so dang lovable,” she said, poking his chest with her index finger. “Not my fault that I’m perfect and you’re a big grump my father doesn’t care for.”

“He doesn’t hate me for being a grump. He hates me because he heard his innocent little girl screaming my name at night.”

“Asshole!” She gasped and shoved him away from her, but he returned right back and kissed her on the lips. Before she could call him more names, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, laughing as he felt her grab his ass immediately. Becoming boring was one of the reasons he didn’t want to get married, but with a girl like her who wanted him so openly, there wouldn’t be a boring day in his life.

“You make me fuck you in your family home, I get to have you fuck me in my childhood bedroom,” he said, carrying her to his room.

“Around all the posters of half naked women?”

“You offended, baby?” He asked, slapping her ass. He wasn’t the half naked women plastered all over his walls kind of guy anymore. But it made him feel giddy to think she might be…jealous?

“Nope! Just regretting taking down my John Wayne and Sydney Poitier posters. I had a John Wayne poster where he’s on a horse, wearing a cowboy ha—” she gasped as he dropped her on his bed.

“He was just a fake cowboy, baby. I’m the real deal. Got a ranch and all. I’ll put on the clothes if you want me to. Get on a horse, wear the damn hat. You want that?” He asked, hovering over her as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“I don’t know, Javi…” she tutted, twirling his hair around her finger. “You might look like a clown in it since you gave up the cowboy life to be a slut in Colombia.”

“I gave up the cowboy life to chase Escobar,” he corrected, giving her a pointed look.

“Yeah, but you spend more time being a slut than chasing Escobar.”

He pinched her ass, making her shriek and slap her hand over her mouth. “Javi! Don’t make me scream. I don’t want your dad to think badly of me!”

“Oh that’s one thing I can’t do, baby. Making you scream and making you cream comes naturally to me,” he said, making her gasp in horror. She had no reason to react so dramatically seeing that he’d definitely given her worse lines in the past. But it was fucking cute.

“Slut,” she chided, pushing him away but then pulling him down to her immediately. She gave him a peck on the lips before blessing the rest of his face with her kisses. It had him smiling like a kid, laughing like he used to when he was a permanent resident of this room.

“How many girls you fuck on this bed before me, Peña?” She asked as he shrugged his shirt off and got to work on her sundress. She looked pretty as hell in it, the white cotton with lemons printed on it giving her the look of the chaste woman she was not. But she looked the part in front of his family, hair down and neatly combed, pink on her cheeks and lips, and a pretty dress that made her look the part of a fiancée any group of Tias would approve of.

“You’re the first. The only one,” he said, pushing the elastic off her shoulders and kissing the swell of her breasts. He breathed in her distinct scent mixed with her sweat and took her breast into his mouth. She tasted salty from sweating, but he was not one to be disgusted by that. He came home to her sweaty and disgusting every damn night and she took him anyway. He buried his face between her breasts and took in her scent, groaning as his cock twitched in response.

Images of her with her knees bent by her head, still wearing the damn sundress as he drilled into her cunt filled his brain.

“Riiight. Totally believe that,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You’re the only girl— woman, on this bed.”

“I don’t believe you. I know for a fact that you were a slut in high school.”

“Oh I was,” he agreed, hand diving beneath her skirt. “But I never brought girls back here. I sneaked into their bedrooms and sneaked out when we were done.”

“Of course you did,” she laughed, fucking herself on his fingers. It was sweet, having her in his family home, learning more about him and being delighted in what she found.

“It’d been a fantasy for a while actually, to bring a girl home, sleep with her on my bed. I just hated having to pull my pants up and run out before my girlfriend’s parents caught us and shot me.”

“You absolute menace!” She scolded and shook her head. He wondered if she would’ve given him her time of day had they gone to school together. He was quite the lanky kid with none of the muscles of his current body that she loved so much. He didn’t have much game either, not enough to impress her at least. She was a big city girl and all he knew at fifteen was Laredo and its oppressive walls. The Agent Javier Peña of now had slipped a diamond ring on her finger, but Javi from Laredo would’ve made a fool out of himself trying to get her to just talk to him.

Or not.

Maybe she would’ve liked him back. Maybe stupid boys with the worst pickup lines and too much confidence were her teenage self’s type.

“Would’ve sneaked into your room too,” he teased, bunching her skirt up at her waist before sucking her clit between his lips.

“Javi!” She squealed and not from pleasure. He apologized for hurting her with his desperation and placed a gentle kiss on the nub.

“My dad would’ve killed you for sure,” she said, running her hand over his arm. He flexed his muscles for her benefit and she took his offer, lavishing his arm with attention before moving a hand down his back as far as she could reach.

“Worth it for this pussy.”

He spent the night with his head between her legs, making her cry his name into her hand and then his pillow. In his head, he gave Javi from two decades ago a pat on the back. He’d gotten out of Laredo like he always wished, no matter the circumstance. He landed a pretty girl who wanted to fuck just as much as he did. He had love like his parents. He’d have a wedding he wouldn’t walk out on and someday maybe the grandchild his dad mentioned in passing.

Life was good.

.

.

.

Series Masterlist

[balletfilmss]

DISTANCE MAKES THE HEART GROW ANGRIER

✸ pairing: jason grace x daughter of minerva! reader

✸ summary: you don’t know anything about jason anymore, except for the fact that you hate him for leaving

✸ warnings: kinda angsty…BUT I SWEAR THERE’S FLUFF AT THE END!! hurt / comfort type, & i think i swore like twice whoopsie

✸ notes: this might be my longest fic yet, hello? i mean, that’s not saying much but STILL

you didn’t know much about jason grace as of lately. it was true that there once was a time that even the smallest of scratches on his skin weren’t a mastery to you, a time when you knew him better than you knew yourself.

until six months ago, when he disappeared without a trace and left you all alone.

as a daughter of minerva, you’d never had many friend to begin with aside from the two praetors of new rome, for your skills and intellect set you apart from your fellow members of the legion and as leader of the first cohort, you were high up in the ranks anyways.

but now, six months later, you found yourself filling the post of second praetor not because you wanted to, but because you had to. the weight of the world had fallen upon your shoulders in only a fortnight

then, percy jackson had appeared.

you’d given him the position you held graciously, but it did nothing to repair the damage done that caused you to be emotional and physically strung out beyond relief.

you didn’t know much about jason grace anymore, except for the fact that you hated him, and unlike reyna, would not be welcoming him back with open arms when he arrived at camp jupiter as percy said he would.

and arrive he did, aboard a flying warship with three other demigods you’d never seen in your life.

while percy, reyna, and the rest of the legion welcomed them in with open arms, you were nowhere to be found.

jason’s eyes scanned the crowd over and over again and each time failed to find just the face he was looking for.

ever since his memories had been returned, the son of jupiter had been driving himself crazy with anticipation to see you again.

the curve of your soft lips and spark in your eyes; the flex of you muscles as you fought and the amused quirk of your brow when you inevitably won. he remembered it all and he missed it all so much that he thought it just might suffocate him. to him, every minute without you was another minute closer to asphyxiation.

fortunately, even after six months, you were still the same girl he had always known. the same one who would tie her shoe laces with two loops instead of one and always had to step out the door with her left foot first.

the same girl who knew him better than himself, and who he knew just as well.

so when he walked into your typical getaway spot, you couldn’t really say you were surprised.

hidden and tucked away in the corner of the new rome library you sat, a book you could’ve even say the name of propped open in front of you just in case someone came in and you needed to look occupied.

you hadn’t read a word since you’d gotten in there, for your brain was too busy reeling with thoughts about the boy who was now sliding his way through the front door to the library in search of you.

you heard footsteps enter the otherwise pen-drop silent room and darted your eyes to the page of your book, resting your face in your hand and letting hair fall over your face in hopes it might cover you up and by some miracle, conceal your identity.

but unfortunately for you, jason would know you anywhere.

he stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on you, his darling girl hiding away in a corner, trying to disguise herself from the world. you weren’t in your official centurion getup like everyone else, but instead jeans and a purple camp jupiter t-shirt that exposed the four lines scored across your arm.

four years. four years that you had known jason, and four years that had been stolen from him just like that.

“yn?” he uttered, asking even though he knew for certain that it was you.

you didn’t answer, just flipped the page of the book you weren’t reading. it bruised his heart a little bit, but he expected nothing less ever since your absence at the welcome party.

he walked closer, testing the water in hopes that you’d at least spare him a glance up. when you didn’t even give him that much, he crossed the room fully until he was standing in front of the table you sat at.

“i braced myself when reyna told me you were mad, but i didn’t expect for you to ignore my existence entirely,” he told you after the silence became too much to bear.

with a huff, you snapped your book dramatically shut and looked up at him, avoiding eye contact and making yourself seem as uninterested as you could possibly scrounge up.

for the first time in months, you took in the beautiful sight that was jason grace. he looked almost the same, with his starry eyes and pretty smile. except he was dressed in a eye-stabbingly bright orange shirt that read camp half-blood on it and was seemingly a size too small, considering how it distractingly hugged his biceps a little too snugly.

he still looked like him, but if he was masquerading around as someone he wasn’t. a son of zeus and not jupiter. a quest leader and not a praetor. a teenage boy, not a soldier.

“library’s closed, and you don’t have authorization to override that rule anymore,” you told him bluntly. “or did you forget how to read, too?”

“okay, ouch,” he nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans to stop himself from fidgeting. but that was the girl he knew: assertive and naturally bossy, for lack of a better word. a true leader, just like himself.

“i’m trying to read, leave,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes off of his.

“i know you’re not reading that,” he rolled his eyes, knowing that you didn’t see it became if you had, he would’ve been chided.

“yes, i am.” you insisted, reopening the book.

“sweetheart,” he sighed, pushing the cover shut again and pointing to the bleary title. “it’s in italian. which if i remember correctly, you don’t speak.”

your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you were mad at him, gods damn it, and you were gonna act like it.

slamming the book down, you pushed yourself to your feet and began towards the door, not giving him the decency of another word.

poor jason didn’t know what was going on. he didn’t know why you were acting this way or why he didn’t get the overwhelming joy of you running to his arms like annabeth had percy’s. no, instead you ran off at the mention of him and refused to meet his eyes.

he’d lost six months with you, and briefly lost the memories of all four years of you, there was no way he was going to lose you now too.

the fear of losing you— all of you— for good had a grip on him so tight that it made him catch your wrist with his hand before you could leave, and the touch of your skin against his sent a refreshing shock through his senses. one chance was all he needed to make sure you didn’t slip through his fingers again.

“don’t go,” he said. “please. i— i don’t really know what’s wrong, but i know that i want to and that i want to fix it.”

for the first time again, your eyes met his. but where his were soft and concerned, yours were glassy and inflamed.

“you don’t know?” you glowered loudly, voice echoing in the silent and empty library, eyes holding angry tears. “jason, you left me! and for months, i tried to figure out what was wrong with me that made you do it, until everyone reminded me that it doesn’t matter what i think or how i feel, because there’s people to take care of and responsibilities to handle.”

jason stared at you, all the things he’d planned to say suddenly lost as he processed your broken words.

“and yeah, i know now that it was all juno, but by the time i was told, everything had already changed too much.”

“too much?” he questioned, looking down at you like a wounded puppy and yanking on your heartstrings.

it wasn’t his fault, none of it was. the involuntary leaving, the memories being wiped, the identity shattering feeling of being an amnesiac. it was all juno and her twisted plans and jason was just a victim of it, and you knew that.

but he had forgotten you once, so what would stop him from doing so again? or worse, what if he had gotten all these memories of you back and the fresher version of his mind had decided that you just weren’t worth it anymore? maybe you never were.

you were just protecting yourself, your heart.

at first when he left, you’d prayed every night he’d come back, wished on every shooting star and dandelion. but then you were forced to accept that no, he wasn’t coming back and somebody had to step up. you had to step up.

it hurt so hard to have your life flipped upside down and take on more than you could even imagine, you just couldn’t do it again.

who’s to say that the minute you let him back in, he wasn’t going to be ripped right away again?

“too much.” you restated. “before percy showed up, i was filling your position and holding my own. all while people either asked me what happened to you or looked at me like i was some poor, little wounded deer, and helping reyna keep everything from falling apart, and with fucking octavian breathing down my neck! and the whole time i couldn’t think of anything but you, and your stupid…you!”

you groaned and shoved your face in your hands to hide the tears that had already started falling, the frustration becoming too much.

slowly, jason put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you into his chest, to which you let yourself slowly collapse into his embrace, your hands the only barrier between your face and his chest.

he wrapped his arms around you carefully like he’d done many times before, rocking back and forth as a silent attempt to calm you. he felt a little guilty for enjoying the feeling of you in his arms again, given the circumstances.

“i’m sorry,” you whimpered into the cotton fabric of his ugly orange shirt. “it’s not your fault. and you don’t deserve to be yelled at or ignored. i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay,” he murmured into your hair. “i’m sorry for letting you think there was ever anything that could make me want to leave you. and, i’m sorry for not remembering everything sooner.”

you must’ve looked pretty damn rough for him to be apologizing that his memories were stolen by a goddess.

“you really remember?” you whispered into his chest, scared that if you said it too loudly the answer might change.

“yeah,” he answered, picking his head up off yours and tapping the back of your head to draw you out of his chest.

you didn’t go far, looking up at him while still in his arms, tear-streaked face and all.

“there she is,” he mused. “there’s my pretty girl.”

the frown on your face deepened at that, purely because your face was surely red and covered in tears, and he decided to compliment it anyways.

“everything? you remember it all?” you sniffed.

“everything.” he confirmed. “like how this is where you go when you’re stressed,” he dipped his head down and kissed your cheek.

“and your favorite color’s light blue,” he kissed your other cheek. “and you prefer mystery books to romance,” your forehead. “and i even remember the time i tied your shoe for you and got kicked in the face in exchange.” your nose.

you were eye-to-eye now, drowning in oceanic blue surrounding his blown-up pupils.

a small giggle passed your lips at the last anecdote, pressing a nostalgic smile onto your lips. “i missed you,” you admitted.

“i missed you too,” he said. “can i have a kiss now?”

you smiled and pulled his face to yours, capturing his familiar and dearly missed lips with your own. after all the fussing and fighting you’d done, he could have as many kisses as he wanted.

[superiorsturgeon]

Are You Sure About Her?

Pyrrha: *meeting Arc family for the first time, happily chatting away*

Mama Arc: Jaune, dear, can you come help me with something please?

Jaune: Hm? Sure, mom!

Jaune: *follows his mother to the kitchen* What do you need?

Mama Arc: …

Mama Arc: …Jaune, dear, are you really sure about this girl?

Jaune: …what? Of course I am! Pyrrha’s awesome! Why would you even ask?

Mama Arc: She seems nice, but…well…she’s a celebrity.

Jaune: Uh…yeah? Basically everyone but me already knew her when we started at school.

Mama Arc: *folds her arms* You don’t understand, sweetie. A few years back, a star athlete and a boy at her school hooked up, and because of her celebrity status they kept their relationship secret to protect him.

Mama Arc: Things went on like that until she unexpectedly got pregnant. They kept the child secret too, again, to protect them.

Mama Arc: But as time went on and the press celebrated her return to sports, she spent less and less time visiting that boy and her child. She was always out drinking, competing, and socializing, and eventually, things completely fell apart. That poor boy gave up his dreams for someone who left when she got tired of him.

Mama Arc: …And I don’t want to see that happen to my son!

Jaune: …

Jaune: …mom, I’m sorry you’re worried, but you’re wrong about Pyrrha.

Mama Arc: But how can you be sure? You’re both so young!

Jaune: Well…For one thing, everyone already knows that me and Pyrrha are dating! When she came to Beacon she told me she wanted to make real friends, and now we’ve both got lots of awesome people who know us both. We even go on double dates with our teammates!

Jaune: And…I guess the most important thing is that it’s Pyrrha, and I trust her.

Mama Arc: 🤨

Jaune: *quailing under the “Mom Stare.”* I-I mean it! When I first went to Beacon, nobody believed in me! Even you and dad talked like you expected me to fail and come back home any day and become a farmer!

Jaune: But not Pyrrha!

Jaune: *awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, trying to form the words* She…she came and pulled my sorry butt out of a tree during the initiation, when she could’ve left me behind and done the actual test! A-and then when trained fighters were teaming up all around us, she came and picked ME to be her partner!

Mama Arc: Well, that’s-

Jaune: *interrupting, Defend Partner™️ mode engaged* And after I made it through by the skin of my teeth and started acting like a cringy tough-guy jerk, she stuck by me! And once I realized what an idiot I was being, she offered to train me.

Jaune: Do you understand? Pyrrha Nikos, Mistral’s invincible gladiator, after everything I did wrong and how crappy I acted, believed I could be better! She believed in me when nobody else did!

Jaune: Pyrrha’s an absolute angel, mom. She’s the strongest and smartest person in the whole school! I watched her take on an entire team by herself and win without breaking a sweat!

Jaune: She could’ve done anything she wanted. She still CAN do anything she wants! And she-she believes in ME!

Jaune: And I believe in her! She’s the most caring, kind, and wonderful person I’ve ever met, mom. I know she would NEVER hurt me, and I trust her with my whole heart!

Mama Arc: …

Jaune: *leans against the counter, panting a bit*

Mama Arc: …it sounds like you really love this girl, Jaune.

Jaune: *drained from his passionate speech* I think so, mom. I know it sounds kinda dumb, but everything I do is more awesome when she’s around!

Mama Arc:

Mama Arc: *smiles and ruffles Jaune’s hair* My little boy has sure grown up a lot since he ran off to become a hero.

Jaune: *squirms* I guess, but it’s all because of the friends I made…but mostly Pyrrha!

Mama Arc: *smiles over Jaune’s shoulder*

Jaune: …what? *turns around*

Pyrrha: *standing in the doorway, sniffling and covering her mouth* 🥹

Arc Family: *crowded in behind Pyrrha* 😁

Jaune: …

Jaune: …how long-?

Youngest Arc Sister: Since the first word you big sappy dork!

[themotherofhorses]

masterlist | part one

Aemond Targaryen, who needs to be held back by Ser Criston Cole, as well as two additional kingsguards, when he confronts his mother. The prince yells and screams and demands answers, all but brandishing his own blade. But Alicent Hightower just stares at him with the same face she wore when he was ten and still dragonless and stubborn and constantly around the beasts. Her lips twist in a frown as she lets out a heavy sigh.

“My dear son, you should have known that this was going to happen. Did you really believe that I allowed you to marry the wretched girl for love? The same girl whom you suffered such terrible abuse at the hands of?” She shakes her head, “In the animal world, pray tell me which beasts are the ones most feared by men. Mothers. The princess would have been wise to remember that the very moment she rooted herself within our family.”

Noticing her son’s face, she soon adds, “But the debt has been paid now, and it is my promise to you that she will be left alone.”

He cannot do anything, he realizes, when his eye meets Ser Cole’s. He cannot avenge his wife or their lost child, no matter how desperately he wishes to. His mother remains the Queen Dowager, and to inflict such harm on her very being is a death sentence, and the prince cannot risk such foolishness and idiocy when his wife still needs him during her recovery.

With a venomous glare thrown her way, he leaves the room, but not without his mother making one final remark.

“And Aemond, my love, I am sorry about the babe. Would you believe me if I said that it was not my intention for her to lose it? We tried to save it, truly.”

He chooses not to answer.

Aemond Targaryen, who finds himself a pathetic witness as his dear wife grows into a shell of the young woman she once was. No longer does her lips curl into that bright smile that could rival the sun above, nor does she fling herself into his arms and kisses his face and neck and knuckles while declaring how much she loves and adores him.

Instead, she flinches whenever he nears and casts her lone eye downward, refusing to meet his gaze as if a lowborn girl. She refers to him as his royal titles only, and never the ones he gained when he became her husband and lover. When he kneels before her to change the bandages each morning and evening, and daubing the wound with the ointment the maesters provided him with, she mumbles out apologies, and the quietest begs for his mercy and forgiveness.

He never thought it was possible, but this pains him more than when she slashed his eye out all those years ago.

When it is all done, he pulls her to his chest and rocks her back and forth as if she was a new babe in the world. “My darling wife,” he mutters into her silver hairline, “My sweet girl. Oh, my beautiful girl. I will never forgive myself for leaving you behind that day. Forgive your damned husband, my love. Forgive me, I beg of you.”

He is met with only silence.

Aemond Targaryen, who has not spoken to his mother in weeks. It is a refusal on his part, despite Alicent making her own attempts, having lost her favored child. The hours he does not spend by his wife’s side, he is with his older sister in the royal playroom, watching his niece and nephews play with their toys on the floor. It makes him think about his own child and what could’ve been. A pretty babe, perhaps, with silver hair and violet eyes, no doubt of the golden blood of Old Valyria. He wonders if there ever will be another chance.    

“She told her that there was never any love for her.”

He turns his head to his sister, who has paused her embroidery to look at him with sad eyes.

“Mother, she had told our niece that you never did love her. That her losing the eye was meant from the beginning, and that you knew about it, and kept up your part so it could eventually happen.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, it was never like that. Yes, I will admit, I wanted revenge, and yes, I did hate her for what she did to me when we were both children, but all that was before I learned how good she was. How sweet and gentle and loving. My sweet girl, my princess, she gave me all the love in the world. She-” he feels his chest tighten greatly, leaving him heaving out short gasps and wheezes, “I love her. I love her more than she could possibly know. I never…I never wanted this. I love her. I love her so much,” and he tries his best to blink away the tears.

Helaena scoots herself closer and wraps gentle arms around both his shoulders, drawing him close. And when he cries into her neck, she whispers in his ear, “An eye for an eye, a son for a son. When the war is won, all will be good and done.”

Aemond Targaryen, who enters his chamber to find the Princess Rhaenys Targaryen seated on the bed, cradling his young wife to her chest. Through the muffled weeps, he could hear her talking to her youngest granddaughter, trying to coax out a response from the girl. When she fails to do so, the woman flattens her forehead against hers and tells her, “You do not dare leave me, my child, do you hear me? I have lost both my children; I will not lose you either.”

“Let us take her to Dragonstone, then,” he says, making his presence known. “I agree that she should be with her family. Perhaps being there will help her spirit.”

Rhaenys shakes her head with a broken chuckle. “Ah, Aemond One Eye. You must be a proud man, having gotten your revenge, it seems, as my grandchild is now without her eye.” She is gentle when laying the princess back down on the bed before standing up to face him. “Tell me, does this make you feel good? Better about yourself? More of a man, now that your wife matches you?”

His mouth twists in rage, but he is quick to bite down his tongue. “She was pregnant,” he chooses to say instead, watching as her eyes widen at his words. “The maesters believed the babe to have been a boy, and I was so excited to finally be a father. Your granddaughter, my wife, she was the prettiest sight, such that made me fall in love with her more every single day that passed.”  

“You loved her so much, you claim, yet you still maimed her.”

“No. It was not I who did this. You must believe me, Princess Rhaenys.”

“Then pray tell who it was?”

“My mother.” He sees the look on her face, and the way her mouth flattens into a tight line. “She had sent me to the North, to the Starks for business, so that I would be unable to stop her. When I returned, it had been done, and our child long gone. I wish for nothing but vengeance now.”

Maybe she believes him; maybe she does not. But he knows that Rhaenys will take her away from him, back to her home at Dragonstone, and will very likely deny him the right to follow them, despite him being her husband. He just cannot accept the thought of being separated from her, the love of his life, no matter how selfish that might sound. He glances at his wife where she rests, with her good eye watching the two of them. Such little life left in her, he sees, and he knows that keeping her here would be considered cruelty on his part.

“Her mother misses her very much, and when she learns of the abuse her only daughter has faced while here at the Keep, there will be a war to be fought. You realize that, right, Prince Aemond? Will you be ready for it?”

He knows that, but it is not the war’s responsibility- nor anyone else’s- to avenge his wife and child but his own. It is why he decides to help the Princess Rhaenys sneak out of the Keep with his wife when nighttime arrives, asking her to hand his sweet girl over to his older sister, her mother, so that the maesters there will tend to her.

With a final kiss pressed against her lips, he bids her a goodbye, and promises a fond reunion when everything has been settled.

Before they leave, his wife brushes her hand against his. It is the ever most gentle touch possible, but enough to garner his attention towards her.

“I love you, husband,” she smiles. “And thank you. Come home to me, please, for I’ll be waiting for you.”

Aemond Targaryen, who later sits near his siblings when their grandsire and mother receive a raven from Dragonstone, carrying the Princess Rhaenyra’s response to her daughter’s mutilation:

“An eye for an eye, a son for a son. My daughter and her babe shall be avenged.”

notes: show of hands for part three?

[a-heart-attack-ow]

The Arrangement. Part One

1: 

Dust hung in the air. 

Flecks frozen in time as my breathing hitches. 

I never meant to be here. 

For things to get this far. 

The truth was, I’d done everything I could to protect my father. He’d made a lifetime of mistakes and gambled away other people’s money and fell into all the wrong crowds until, one day, he fucked over the worst family in Las Vegas. A family from old money, a family as close to royalty as they could get. The family didn’t lose much money because of my father, but even a dollar was too much for the Brock family empire. The same family that was out for blood the moment they learned their employee betrayed them. 

I was there the night they sent someone to break into my house. I’d come home earlier than normal as my night class had been canceled. I’d pulled into the driveway after getting home from University and heard the yelling the moment I stepped out of the car. I was there when I ran into the house, and found my father in the living room on his knees with a man holding a gun to his head. And it had been me who begged them to not hurt my father. I’d sworn to give them anything they wanted to spare him, but I never imagined they’d want this. 

I never imagined they’d want me standing in a wedding dress in the bedroom of the family’s only biological son. The man I’d married only three hours before. I could cry remembering how I’d gotten here. How I ended up with the 10 carat diamond black engagement ring and a wedding band with five carat diamonds embedded into the band. The ring was heavy and served as a constant reminder of who I now belonged to. A reminder of what would happen to my father if I did anything to ruin this arrangement. 

The Brock family was untouchable. They had more money than they would ever need and a massive pharmaceutical company behind them. Mr. Brock was also the CEO of 20 major hospitals in Las Vegas. On the surface they seemed nice enough, but there was something sinister that everyone who knew them couldn’t place. They’d been involved in countless scandals and always managed to avoid any of the legal trouble that had come their way. They’d been viewed as a family of kindness, faith, and pure opportunities, but when their son got into his teenage years that had changed. The Brock family’s only son had a constant place on the cover of tabloid magazines. Even now, at the age of 25 he was still constantly on the cover of the tabloids. 

The senior members of the family knew they had to do something to clean up his image. Something to switch the party boy behavior into something that reflected the family values their company preached. But I doubt anyone would’ve guessed that this was their plan for their son. 

To force him into an arranged marriage to save their reputation. 

Colby Brock…

…is my husband. 

I feel a chill move up my spine at the thought. To spare my father from murder, I had to marry the heir of the people who’d wanted him dead. The masked man had laughed in my face when I told him I would give him anything he wanted if he didn’t hurt my father. 

“I know just what I am going to do with you.”

He’d chuckled darkly, his blue eyes shining behind the black ski mask he’d been wearing. Nothing could’ve prepared me for this. I close my eyes at the thought, tears threatening to spill over. Suddenly, my wedding dress feels very hot and I need to get out of it. I reach around to the side of my dress to find the zipper of my strapless dress. The gown itself was made of the finest silk money could buy (or at least that’s why the stylist had told me), but I couldn’t bear to be in it a second longer. I shimmy out of the dress, the fabric lightly landing onto the ground. My long black hair hangs in my face as I make sure my feet can safely step out of the fabric without catching on the fabric. I make sure to slip off the high heels I’d been wearing and keep them in the pool of fabric on the floor. My bare feet find the heated wooden floors and I feel a sense of calm move over me now that the dress is off of my body. I don’t even care that I’m standing in the middle of the bedroom with only my bra and underwear on. I just care that I’m no longer in that dress. I brush the long black curls of my hair out of my face and breathe a deep sigh. For a moment I don’t feel the anxiety I’d been feeling for days, but then I hear a voice behind me that brings me back to reality in an instance. 

“Now this is a view I could get used to.” 

His voice causes me to freeze. I’d only heard that voice for the first time today. When he read off his scripted vows. I turn to face him slowly, my green eyes finding his pale blue gaze in the dark. I had been in such a rush to leave the wedding reception that I didn’t properly take in my surroundings. I knew I was standing in a bedroom, but now that I was looking at Colby, standing in the middle of a grand room, I realized how much luxury engulfed me in this moment. He is standing in the middle of his bedroom, his tux jacket hanging over his right arm and his button up shirt undone. He looks like he had fun at the reception and like he didn’t mind that I’d snuck out as quickly as I could. 

“I am sorry…”

I start faintly, a smirk spreading to his lips.

“... I should’ve gone somewhere private to change.” 

My voice sounds so small when I speak. I don’t know the man in front of me and a part of me is terrified about what will happen next. He takes two steps to the right, dropping his tuxedo jacket onto the loveseat next to his desk. The smirk never leaves his face when he does this, not even when he looks back at me. His eyes scan my body in appreciation, his approval evident in the way his eyes light up the longer he stares. 

“Well, my darling wife, what’s mine is yours. You can change wherever you like. Afterall, this is our bedroom. This is your new home, all 10,000 acres.” 

Amusement moves across his face as I study him. His words echo in my mind, I’d married into a wealthy family and now I was stuck in the middle of a large estate. I’d grown up on food stamps and in low-income housing. I didn’t even know how to exist in a place like this. He notices the way I am studying him and he chuckles. He’d been here before, in a position with a woman who was intimidated by the sheer scope of him and his lifestyle. 

“You did a good job today…”

He rasps. 

“...Wore the dress my mom picked out. Let Kris do your hair and makeup, and posed exactly as you’d been told to.  It’s like my parents picked you out of a catalog or something…”

He pauses once more, moving to sit on the edge of his loveseat. I can’t read him or what he’s thinking but I see the slightest look of frustration entering his eyes as he continues to speak. 

“...Your name is Emilia Chandler and you’ve received all A’s your whole life, got into college early and now, at 24 you’re already working on your Ph.D. in higher education. You spend weekends at local soup kitchens, help donate to children’s cancer organizations, and donate to charities that support domestic violence survivors. You’re like an American Princess Diana, but I’m not a prince Emilia and I have no intention of treating you like a princess.” 

His words fall from his lips quickly and they’re unforgiving as he gives me a moment to process what he’s just said to me. His eyes aren’t kind, but there’s an amusement in his eyes as he studies me. I hadn’t realized he’d been studying up on who I am. 

“I’m sorry if I offended you or something.”

I whisper, my eyes moving from his to the floor. He chuckles darkly at my words, his body leaning back into the fabric of the loveseat. 

“Darling, I’m not offended. You do what you’re told and we can get through this without any problems. You fuck me when asked, pop out a few kids, and pretend to be happy when we are at events or in photographs. But make no mistake, what we are is an arrangement made by people who know that a girl like you is sweet enough to make me digestible to the public.” 

No one had ever spoken to me like he was at this very moment. The rudeness and the entitlement laced into how he spoke made my blood boil but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words hurt. I knew he wasn’t happy about the situation, because who would be happy about being forced to marry a person to save the reputation of your family. Who would want this? I know that I didn’t. 

“Come here…” 

He demands from the loveseat. I feel his eyes on me, willing me to move to him. Out of compliance I do as he’s asked and move to stand in front of him, my footsteps light along the hardwood. The same smirk he’d worn before has found itself back on his face as our gazes lock once more. I don’t know when he’s taken off his undershirt but he has and now his shirtless body is on full display. I note the tattoos and his extremely toned body before moving my eyes back to his. Without asking, his hands are on either side of my hips, pulling my body down to straddle his. 

“Sam was right when he told me you were a looker. That’s all I could think when you were walking down the aisle. It makes this arranged marriage thing worth it, knowing I, at least have an attractive girl to fuck.”

The lack of kindness he’d had before, remains evident in his biting comments. He was vile, hot as hell, but vile. 

“Sam?”

I ask as the hands that had been on my hips snake their way up my body. He pulls my waist in against his torso, our skin on skin in seconds. He chuckles at how my breathing hitches as he arranges how he wants my body to straddle his. He guides his fingertips to  reach around to undo my strapless bra. “Yes, Sam. He was my best man at the wedding.” 

With my chest now fully exposed to him, he groans. There’s a moment where I lock my eyes with his, a moment where I decide that I could just get this initial moment over with faster if I initiated something. I could feel his tension in the air around us both. He didn’t like being forced to marry, but he was going to take his situation and have fun with it. I think back to his comment about having children and feel relief at the fact that I still had my IUD. If his parents wanted grandchildren to keep the family line going, they wouldn’t be getting them anytime soon. 

The longer we look at each other I feel the tension building between us. Both of us were almost anticipating what the other was going to do. I could feel myself growing more restless the longer we looked at one-another, so I broke the tension and placed my lips against his. If he was going to make the best of this arrangement by using me then why couldn’t I do the same? My lips move slowly against his and he meets mine with equal pacing. He holds his body against mine the moment I deepen the kiss and suddenly he seems to need me like he’s been starved of physical touch his whole life. The longer we kiss the more I can’t seem to think straight. All I can think about is how I feel in the moment, how he feels against me. His skin is soft against my chest, comforting inviting all at once. Kissing him was far more pleasant than hearing him speak to me. There was a false sense of tenderness to him that had been lacking before. 

I feel his hands move to my chest, giving my breast a firm squeeze. The touch feels so good that I break the kiss and moan into the crook of his neck, unable to meet his gaze. I didn’t want to see the look of satisfaction on his face as I reacted like putty in his hands. He was molding me into what he wanted and I was shamelessly letting him. A dark chuckle passes his lips as he uses his right hand to stroke my breast, his thumb lightly tracing over my hardening nipple. His left hand moves down my torso slowly until he reaches my soaked underwear. 

“Is this all for me my darling?”

He groans into my neck, as he moves his fingertips to slide my underwear to one side. He wastes no time pumping two fingers into my aching core, the quick pace of his fingers is harsh but it feels so good. I allow a shaky breath to escape me as I breathe into his neck. I was going to cum if he kept up this pace and he knew it. 

“Such a good little wife you are…”

He groans when I dare to kiss his collar bone. He was magnetic and for whatever reason I felt this connection to him. It was purely sexual, but I enjoyed the way it made me feel. Feeling me get closer to the edge, he removes his fingers from my core, the loss making me feel empty. He pulls my hair and forces me to look at him. 

“...From this day forward you are mine…”

He practically growls the words at me, his jaw clenched as he studies me. I can’t speak when he says this, but I manage a small nod before he continues. 

“... You will never be anyone else’s.” 

Our eyes remain locked as he moves his hands to unbuckle his pants, lifting his body up enough to slide them down. He takes his boxers off at the same time as his dress pants and exposes himself to me. Completely unapologetically he smirks when I glance down at his hardened member. He’s bigger than anyone else I’ve ever had before, but I can’t help but want him inside of me as soon as possible. He wastes no time with my underwear, but instead of sliding them off he rips them off of my body. 

I’m not shocked by the aggressiveness nor am I shocked by the way that he moves his lips to mine in pure hunger. He knew what he wanted from me and he wasn’t afraid to take it. The kiss was frenzied and demanding as he deepened it, his tongue meeting mine. While he distracts my lips, his hands move my body against his, brushing his hardened cock against my slick core. He is setting my body to align with his and I brace myself to be impaled by him. I brace myself for the feeling of complete desire to overtake us both. 

He aligns himself with me with one quick thrust. A deep penetrating thrust that felt like utter perfection. My lips part as he thrusts again and again into me with quiet demand. A moan escapes my lips as he holds my body into place, his thrusts deeper and deeper. “I want to hear you say it…”

He groans into my lips. His pace was faster than it had been before. I feel like my head is spinning as he does this and I’m unsure of how I can respond to whatever he wants me to say. I didn’t think I could even form a coherent sentence. 

“...Say you’re mine and no one else’s. Say it and I might let you cum.”

There’s a veiled threat in his words, a smugness about him that told me he could feel how close I was to coming undone around his cock. A threat that told me I better verbally comply or I wouldn’t be able to release the pent up pleasure I felt. I could feel how close he was and I could tell that he needed to hear me say it, his ego would accept nothing less. 

“I am yours…”

I whimper as he thrusts into me so fast that I can hardly focus.

“... I am yours and no one else’s.”

The words fall from my lips mere seconds before he cums inside of me, his lips connecting with mine once more. He groans as his cock twitches inside of me. 

“Cum for me sweetheart.”

He rasps, giving me permission to let go. My body wastes no time responding to what he’s finally allowed me to do and it feels so good. 

Afterwards we sit on the loveseat, our chests rising and falling rapidly. We both strive to catch our breath, sitting in the silence of his room. It’s only when he guides my face to look up to his once more that he speaks one final time for the night. 

“Emilia Brock, we are going to have so much fucking fun together.”

*I have other parts in mind, please let me know if you would like to read more.*

[bunnie-online]

nobody's son, nobody's daughter {A.S.}

getting into an argument with ani & your parental issues are brought up

warnings: NO SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT BUT MY BLOG IS 18+ ONLY. hurt/comfort, parental issues lol, crying, Anakin is lowkey mean i’m sorry ✋🏽😔, not accurate SW lore, one use of ‘y/n’, d3ath mention.

Anakin was so done with today. it was friday afternoon and he had just endured 8 hours of training and then a 2 hour meeting with the Jedi Council where he was scolded for a rash decision he made on his most recent mission. to say Anakin was frustrated was the understatement of the century.

you weren’t having a great day either, it was your fathers birthday. he had left you and your mother to start a new family when you were in your early teens. shortly after that your mother spiraled into depression and had tossed you out. you escaped to Coruscant and happened to be found by Master Windu who took you under his wing.

the weeks of what used to be important family events were always difficult. especially birthdays. you couldn’t wait to curl up into your boyfriend’s arms and feel the weight of the day melt away.

Anakin made his way to your quarters, wanting to do the same. his walk was all a blur until he reached your door. Anakin walked into your apartment ready to collapse into you. he found you curled up on the couch, looking forlorn.

“hey, angel. what’s wrong?” his voice soft and obviously sullen. you lift your head, your face tear stained. “oh it’s just my dads birthday..” you trail off. Anakin sighed. “oh that again.” he sounded slightly annoyed.

granted you’ve been sulking about this all week, but you had a right to. you missed normalcy, you missed coming home from school on your father’s birthday and giving him handmade cards you crafted so carefully. you missed the delicious birthday dinner your mother made and hiding his gifts behind your back, making him guess what it was. you missed sitting on his lap and helping him blow out his candles after singing to him loudly and in between giggles. it sickens you to think about his new children doing all of those things you thought we sacred to him, just as they were to you.

“what does that mean?” you ask, getting defensive. “nothing, angel.” he corrected his tone, realizing what he had done. “no. what did you mean by that?” you doubled down, standing up and walking closer to him. “again? again?! oh i’m sorry that i’m mourning my family.” you cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes.

Anakin scoffs. “you have to be kidding. it just slipped out i didn’t even mean it like that.” he steps closer to you. “obviously you meant something, Anakin. you wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.” your eyes threw daggers into his. “angel, can we just drop it? i had a long day i just wanna relax.” he reaches his hand out to touch your arm. you pull back harshly. “darling, come on.”

“no! you have the audacity to tell me to ignore a comment like that?! really?!” your voice gaining volume. Anakin pressed his palm against his forehead, his anger building. “love, i didn’t even mea-“ he starts. “don’t even try to throw that shit at me again.” you interrupt him.

“you aren’t the only one without parents, y/n!!” he yells. you jump back. Anakin had never yelled at you before. “i held my mother as she passed away after not seeing her for ten. years! you aren’t the only one mourning!”

you were too shocked to speak, but your face said everything. after what felt like an eternity, Anakin’s face softened, he realized what had came out of his mouth. “angel…baby…i am- i am so sor-.” “don’t.” you interrupt him again. “i know- i know i’m not the only one mourning. i know you don’t have parents either but i still supported you. i held you after every nightmare, flashback, anxiety attack, everything. i still do.” your voice cracked often as you choked down tears.

“if you were annoyed with my sulking, you could’ve shut it out like you do to me every time something bothers you.” you started walking past him, he tried to grab you by your bicep. “get the fuck away from me, Anakin.” you state coldly, his eyes widen. you’ve never spoken to him in that way. you push past him and walk out of your own apartment.

Anakin stood there, not only shocked at your actions but also his. he’s always been so caring not matter how his day went, he always held space for you. and you held space for him. the tears welling up in his eyes finally spilt over, his usually stoic face contorted as he cried.

you stormed out to the garden, finding a bench in a secluded area. you sat there and cried for what seemed like forever. you cried until your head throbbed and your lungs were sore.

Anakin had to make this right, he couldn’t leave you like this. the sound of leaves crunching behind you nearly scared you out of your skin.

Anakin placed a blanket over your shoulders before sitting down next to you. “angel. i am so sorry. truly. this week was exhausting and i have no right to take it out on you.” he wraps one of his arms around you and you melt into his warmth. “i forgive you, Ani. and i’m sorry too. i know you’re also grappling with your own feelings. i never meant to appear selfish.”

“i love you, my angel.” his plants a kiss on your temple. “i love you too, Ani.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this was my first time writing hurt/comfort pls don’t bully meeee

~bunnie

[crossvise]

Summary; reader and Phil have a fight and says some hurtful things but they make up in the end.

Warnings; some swearing and some hurtful words

angst ( with a good ending )

Recovery was hard and painful both physically and mentally, it was challenging and sometimes, you were just upset at the whole world that it had to be you. Phil was barely back in the WWE and got badly injured on the first big event he participated.

That night, you were there backstage, watching the men’s Royal Rumble, you saw that DDT and how Phil was different after taking it. You could’ve sworn something was wrong- the way he kept reaching for his elbow, you were honestly more worried about this than the outcome of the match.

When he came back after losing against Cody, your fears were confirmed as his elbow was wrapped in ice. At that time, you didn’t even know how bad it truly was, yet your heart broke for him- he didn’t deserve to go through that. He was finally back and his moment was taken away from him.

Before you even had the confirmation that Phil’s injury was a torn tricep, you promised him you’d be there for him for each step of recovery- no matter if it would be a short or long one. Sadly, what was suspected ended up being right, your boyfriend would require surgery for his torn tricep and would be out for months.

It had been a couple of weeks since the Royal Rumble and Phil’s injury, it hadn’t been easy but you had been there for your boyfriend- you tried your best to make his life easier wether it was bringing a few more cushions on the sofa so his arm could lay comfortably or do chores that weren’t easy with one arm.

However, the last few days were getting harder, mostly for Phil but you were the one who had to suffer through his bad mood. You knew he probably didn’t even realize he was being an ass, so you just let it flow, you didn’t want to cause an argument as you never had a big one with your boyfriend and you wanted it to remain that way.

Today, Phil had been in a particularly bad mood- everything seemed to annoy him, even your mere presence. You didn’t say much and just let him be for the time being. When you came back from work, Phil wasn’t back from rehab for his elbow- which was unusual. It became a routine for you to get back home and be greeted by your boyfriend, then you’d go on a walk with Larry.

It wasn’t without your heart feeling heavy that you went on a walk with Larry. Phil adopted him years ago, way before you, but from the start of your relationship, Larry became so important to you, in a way, he was like your son. You tried not to overthink during your walk but it was hard- you were wondering if you had done something wrong? Perhaps, it was worse than that and Phil didn’t love you anymore.

Larry and you made it back home at the same time as Phil but you didn’t address him a single word until you were sitting on the couch- you were too upset with him to start a conversation.

Phil probably realized something was wrong as you didn’t initiate a conversation or even ask him how rehab had been today, “ how was work? ”

“ Fine. How was rehab? ”

“ Fine too.”

You nodded, not having much to say but a part of you was also being petty and chose to give him as much energy as he gave you. Phil sighed, “ are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“ There’s nothing going on.”

“ I’m not stupid, y/n. You usually ask me right away how rehab was, you always talk to me but not today?”

You shrugged, hesitating a few seconds, wondering if you should bring up his behavior for the past few days- it couldn’t keep going like this, “ I don’t know, you’ve be an ass to me for the past few days and I don’t get why. I don’t get it, I’ve been doing my best to make sure you’re not in pain or doing something that could hurt you more.”

“ Didn’t you consider that maybe I don’t need you to do all that? I’m not helpless, I’ve been through plenty of injuries and surgeries. It’s sweet that you want to help me but honestly? You’ve been suffocating.”

Those words stung like hell, you didn’t really expect to hear that in all honesty, all you wanted was to make it easier for him, “ and you couldn’t just tell me I was doing too much instead of being an asshole?”

“ Oh come on! I was not an asshole, I’ve just been annoyed with you.”

“ Okay, I won’t do anything for you anymore.”

Phil rolled his eyes dramatically, accompanied by a loud sigh, “ that’s not what I said, don’t dramatize it. I just want to breathe, to be left alone and not have someone babying me as if I’m not a grown ass man.”

“ This someone happens to be your girlfriend Phil, and I was not babying you. I’m sorry if it seemed that way, I just wanted to help.”

“ Well, if I had known you’d be like this when we got together, I would’ve thought twice before asking you out.”

If you had been shot at that same moment, you were sure it would’ve hurt less than Phil’s words, from the look on his face, he also realized what he said but it was too late to take it back. You choked up on your words as only a “ oh ” came out. Maybe you had been right when you wondered if he didn’t love you anymore, it sure seemed the case at this moment.

Tears in your eyes, you got up and rushed to your shared bedroom- you didn’t think much but if there was something you knew, it was that you didn’t want to see Phil’s face anymore today. You grabbed an empty sport bag and shoved a couple of clothes in it, you’d come back to get more if needed later.

Once you were done, you headed to your car but not before giving Larry a kiss on the top of his head. Phil rushed after you as soon as he saw you leaving with a bag, “ baby, please wait! ”

“ Fuck you, Phil.”

With that, you drove away from the place you called home- you hadn’t really planned where you’d go for the night, you just drove for a while to cool off and ended finding a hotel to spend the time. You had friends you could’ve crashed at for the night but you didn’t want to burden them with the fight you just had with Phil.

It was only later in the night when you were laying in the hotel’s bed that you finally dared to look at your phone- Phil had tried to call you countless of times and texted you a couple of times asking you to come back, that he was sorry and begging you to, at least, tell him you were somewhere safe.

Which you did, you replied with a simple and short “ I’m safe, sleeping at a hotel.” as soon as you hit the send button, you shut your phone off for the night and tried your best to fall asleep. It wasn’t an easy task, the fight you had with your boyfriend replying in your head for a majority of the night until exhaustion took over and allowed you a few hours of sleep.

The next morning, you found it hard to get up from bed, not only you had only gotten a couple hours of sleep but they also had been terrible- this bed wasn’t as comfortable as the one from home and honestly, sleeping without Phil next to you was hard. When you looked up at your phone, mostly to call in sick for work, you had a few more texts from your boyfriend.

Some were more apologies, other were begging you to come home or to give him the address so he could come to you to talk. Did you want to see and talk to Phil again after yesterday? You weren’t sure but you needed clarity- you wanted to know if he still loved you at least or if you were over.

The latter thought broke your heart a bit more than it already was, you didn’t really imagine your future without Phil in it- that’s why you ended up texting him the address of the hotel you were staying at for now.

Only an hour later, Phil was knocking on the door of the hotel room you were staying in- you had taken a shower and ate a little in the meantime but let’s be honest, you looked like a mess. You took a deep breath before you slowly opened the door and let Phil in with a barely audible “ hi. ”

Your boyfriend came with a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers, “ these are for you, sweetheart. ”

“ Thank you, they’re beautiful. ”

“ Not as beautiful as you.”

You dramatically rolled your eyes at this, these one liners wouldn’t be enough to have you forgive him, “ yeah, I look miserable today but thank you still. ”

“ You look beautiful even when you look tired. ”

“ So… you wanted to talk?”

Phil stayed silent for a second, as if he was carefully choosing how to words what he wanted to say, “ I’ve fucked up, I know it and I’m so sorry for everything I’ve said. I didn’t mean it, these past few days, I’ve grown really frustrated but not with you. With myself. I’m frustrated to have to stay back and miss many events, I thought this year was finally my year- that I’d get to main event Wrestlemania and keeping it all for me wasn’t the right move because I ended up lashing out on you when you just wanted to help.”

“ You should’ve talked to me, Phil. I don’t mind giving you space, I just needed to know that.”

“ I know and again, I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re suffocating, I like that you care so much for me, sometimes it’s a bit too much but that’s on me for not telling you to stop.”

You nodded, you were glad that Phil was finally opening up to you, that’s all you needed from the get-go. Yet, there was still a thought lingering on your mind and you needed clarification on it, “ do you still love me?”

“ What? Sweetheart, of course I love you! You’re the love of my life, you are so important to me. I’m sorry for being such an asshole that you thought I didn’t love you anymore.”

Pain could be read in Phil’s eyes and his words managed to reassure you, a small smile tugging you your lips, you said, “ this was the worst night in my life, I don’t think I can sleep without you anymore.”

Phil laughed at this and gently pulled you into a hug, you had missed him so much.

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ PART ONE - TOJI

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ summary page

✧ content warnings unaliving of major character.

 “Any last words?”

 Within the next few minutes, I’ll be dead. I knew this the moment I saw that blue-eyed freak reappear after when I thought I killed him. Fucking sorcerers and their cursed technique bullshit. Maybe I was too confident thinking I would win the second time. I doubted myself at first, but then I calmed down… No . 

 I was just too confident.

 A world like this wasn’t meant for a monkey like me. I was born into a fucked up family that treated me like shit because I didn’t have any cursed technique. The scar on my lip reminds me of it every day. I got over it, though. I accepted this was my faith. I served my purpose and it was time for me to go.

 Still, I can’t help but wish I made it out alive. That I had a little bit more time. 

 “Nah,” I replied, vaguely. 

 How am I supposed to answer some cliché question like that? 

  Any last words?

 Why would I tell him that? 

 Tell him about the thoughts and images that’s in my head.

 Tell him that I had a wife who actually saw some good in me. Good enough to get pregnant and raise a kid together. Tch, me? Toji Fushiguro? A husband and father? I never thought I would live to see the day. And of course, it didn’t last long. 

 My wife died because of an incurable sickness. I never felt pain before. Not when I’m standing here with half my body blown off. Not when my family tortured me. But the day she died, I felt pain. I didn’t cry. I just felt empty. Felt like I had no reason to be decent anymore. How was I supposed to raise a kid by myself? 

 She told me I was going to be okay. 

  I wasn’t okay.  

 I’m a fucked a person.

 A fucked up father.

 I was never meant to carry responsibility because it never lasts long. Good things don’t last long. Death will always be endgame. So I went on with my life. I left my kid to fend for himself. Even Kong tried helping me take care of him, which was a waste on his part. 

 There was no point. 

 I was never made to be a fucking dad. Me selling my son to my family is better than what I could’ve done for him. It wouldn’t make any difference if I was or was not in his life because I would never be good enough to be a father. . . A person . . . But I met. . . Her .

 In my final moments, I think of my late wife, my son, and her. 

  Y/N. 

 Another person who managed to see the impurity I have in me as pure. 

 What I had with Y/N was accidental. Not in a bad way, but we met on a whim. I met her at a bar a few months after my wife died. She was just so…vibrant. Special. Y/N puts words in my vocabulary I thought I kept reserved for my late wife. 

 Gorgeous. Breathtaking. Sexy. Deep brown skin, and a bed of coils on her head that smelled like honey and pomegranate. Curves of a siren but a face of a goddess. I wanted her to lose herself in me…

 It seems like I lost myself in her. 

 A one night stand turned into every night. Sex turned into conversations, and conversations turned into…

 Feelings. 

 A sick motherfucker like me who killed a teenager for money, almost killed one who fucking did reversed cursed technique to come back to life, and left another badly beaten, has feelings. For another woman who isn’t my dead wife. 

 The shit I got myself into with Y/N, having unspoken feelings for a woman I’m never going to see again, and she is a part of my last dying memories. 

  I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this fucking sunlight beaming in my face every time I sleep here. Y/N says light helps you through the day, so being met with it first thing in the moment will give you the energy that you need. 

 Whatever that means. 

 However, I would be lying if I said I don’t feel calm right now, especially after last night.

 We had an argument like we’re a couple. We’re not. I don’t know what exactly is going on between me and Y/N, but I know I’m selfish enough to claim her as mine without actually having a title. I made it very clear that I would kill anyone that she tries to move on with, and I have every intention of keeping that promise. 

 And I know she’s probably getting sick of this complicated situation we have. 

I fuck her, we talk, and when I felt like it was getting too real, I leave for weeks then return when I think I have my feelings under control. 

 But see that’s the thing, no matter how long or far away I am from Y/N, I’ll never have what I feel for her under control. 

What I feel is indescribable. She makes me feel like I have a choice to be better. To do better, and when I’m around her, I think that I want to. 

 I sound like a fucking sap. Toji Fushiguro, the Zen’in fuck up, having feelings all because of her. Love is foreign to me. Never thought I would come close to experiencing it again, but Y/N helps me find the meaning. 

 And even if I never said those words to her before, I feel it. 

 I feel it when I wake up in her bed, laying in the sheets that carry her lingering scent. Vanilla. Almonds. A hint of jasmine with sweet berries. 

 I feel it when I walk into the kitchen to see her cooking breakfast while wearing my shirt. 

 Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy and beautiful. Morning wood is getting harder by the second. 

 My arms find Y/N’s waist to wrap around and pull into my erection so she can feel what she does to me. 

 “‘Morning, sweets,” I grumble, kissing the sweet spot behind her ear. She relaxes into my arms, but still manages to cook. 

 “I see you’re finally up… and here,” she says with a soft smile on her face. 

 “We are up.” We, meaning my cock and I. “And I am here. I told you I was staying the night. Thought I was lying?”

 “No, I thought something might’ve come up. You know—with your sorcerer killing business.”

 I hum. “Not today, but I do have something to handle in a couple of days.” Soon I need to take down the fake bounty I put out for the Star Plasma Vessel to make my move. 

 Y/N’s body tenses, shoulders becoming rigid and putting distance between us due to me telling her that I’m leaving soon. She turns off the stove, puts down the cooking spoon and turns to look at me. I know she’s mad at me. More so, disappointed. I just can’t help but think how fucking gorgeous she is, especially in the morning. 

 “You’re leaving already?” she asks. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, Toji. Where are you going now?”

 “I’m not going anywhere far. I’ll be in Tokyo. It’s a quick job, then I’ll come back to you.”

 Y/N purses those full pretty lips and crosses her arms over her chest, causing the swell of her breasts to be seen.

 Now isn’t the time to have horny thoughts about her, but fuck. 

 “Whatever. Breakfast is ready. You can grab a plate.” Y/N turns to walk away from me. “I’m going to start getting ready for work.”

 “Hey,” I say, grabbing her wrist to pull her back into my arms. This time, enclosing her tightly so she doesn’t leave until I let her. “I said I’m coming back to you. Didn’t I?”

 “Yeah, and you always fucking say that. Don’t you? What makes this time different?”

 “Because I-” Before those words escaped my mouth, I looked away. 

 The stare of Y/N’s round chestnut-colored eyes weigh on me while she waits for me to speak. 

 It’s quiet. Early morning, all that is heard is the birds chirping, making the silence between me and Y/N even fucking louder. We’re like this for about thirty-seconds until she realizes my unfinished words.

 Her face softens. “You… what?” 

 “Y/N…” I sigh. “It’s not easy for me. These fucking words. These emotions. They’re all jumbled in my head. I just-”

 “When you come back.” She interrupts, however, I don’t understand what she’s saying, so she continues. “Promise me, whatever you were going to say to me, promise that you’ll say it when you come back.”

 “Sweets-”

 “Just promise.” Her voice slightly breaks, eyes already glossing from the near tears. 

 I look at Y/N and see peace. Hope. Maybe’s and what ifs. Again, feelings that are foreign to me. Feelings I should be incapable of feeling. Shit, I fucking hate this… Then again, I don’t. 

 She doesn’t deserve the half-assessed bullshit I’ve been giving her. The inconsistency, and lack of commitment. 

 And I don’t deserve anything she gives me. Her time. Honestly. Empathy. Hell, not even the sex. But she gives it to me because she sees some shit in me that I don’t. 

 Maybe… maybe I should try again…

 Just for her. 

 “I promise.”

Some promise that fucking was.

 I told Y/N I’ll be back later on tonight. Told her to get pretty so I can take her out to dinner. Unless I magically gain reverse cursed technique, I think my time on this earth and with Y/N has come to an end. 

 I should’ve never made that damn promise. Not because I didn’t think I couldn’t keep it. But because she’s holding onto something that’s never going to happen. 

 That smile. Her scent. The peace she gave me… all of it was temporary. I knew a fuck up like me didn’t have any true purpose in this world. Today is the day I atone to my sins. 

 I’m surrounded by grey, black, and white, where the only ounce of color I felt in years, is when I was with Y/N.

 I’ll never see her again, so the least I could do is this. 

 After I told this little Gojo fuck about my kid, I attempted one more request. 

 “Actually, if you could go to these brown apartments in Shibuya outside of Ebisu Station,” —I cough up blood— “there are the only ones with that color, fourth floor, fifth door to your left. Tell her… Tell her I’m not coming.”

 He looks at me with confusion. 

  It was worth a try. 

 “If you won’t, then what-”

 “Okay,” he answers, flatly. 

 I’m sorry, Y/N. 

 I’m so sorry I broke our promise. 

 Again. 

  Fuck, why does my heart feel like this? It feels… broken. 

NEXT CHAPTER

[beautifulblooms]

I shine only with the light you gave me - Denied! Father Figure! Price + Male! Sergeant! Reader

So I'm an evil little twat, and based this off "The Moon Will Sing for Me" by The Crane Wives, it's totally evil and very sad, trigger warning for death, won't tell ya whose, gotta read that besties, anyway, enjoy!

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

It had been a rough mission, returning to base with a bullet wound in his arm, it wasn’t (y/n)’s dominant arm but it still made steadying his gun difficult. Walking back to Price’s office to give his mission report, (y/n)’s injured arm was wrapped and covered by the sleeve of his hoodie, the bandages not visible, but the dark circles under his eyes and the slumped shoulders showed his exhaustion perfectly fine. 

(y/n) had talked with Captain Price a few weeks before now about how he felt connected to the older man like he was the father figure he never had growing up…and the captain hadn’t taken it well, straight up refusing to acknowledge or interact with the younger man outside of professional meetings no matter how hard (y/n) tried to talk to him. 

Knocking on the door of Price’s office, (y/n) waited for a response, the usually warm and kind voice of his captain present and giving him a little bit of hope. “Come in, door’s open,” Price didn’t look up from the papers on his desk when the door opened, continuing to write until he heard (y/n)’s voice, the pen in his hand slowly being gripped harder as he tried to keep himself calm.

“I’ve got my mission report, it um, it went well, minimal injuries to the team.” Setting the small stack of stapled papers on the corner of Price’s desk, (y/n) took a step back as he spoke fairly softly but still with some confidence, hoping to get to actually talk to Price today.

“Thank you, sergeant, you’re free to leave. You have another mission in a few days, be sure to rest while you can.” The words were forced on Price’s part, he didn’t want to form more of a connection with the younger man, knowing that it would only lead to disappointment for (y/n) at the very least. He had no idea how to be a father figure, Price was lost in the concept of treating someone like his son, one he’d never had or planned to have. He regretted letting (y/n) get so close to him at all, Price knew that the young soldier would do anything he asked, any mission, anything that needed to be done in the shadows he made.

Taking a small step back from the desk, (y/n) considered telling Price about the injury to his arm, but he also figured that if he was being sent on another mission so soon, he must be doing something right…right? “Of course, I’ll be sure to do that,” Without much of another word, (y/n) turned on his heel and left Price’s office, thinking about what else he could’ve done, he’d been trying so hard to earn his approval, just like he had with his actual father. He wanted nothing more than to be told he’d done a good job, that the man he treated and loved like the sun, like a father, saw him in the same light. 

The next few days he should’ve been resting were spent worrying, thinking about how badly this mission could go…little did (y/n) know that it was exactly that, the mission wouldn’t be good. It started out well, (y/n) had gone in with his team and easily navigated through the “abandoned” Soviet bunker, found the needed information, and were headed out to exfil…little did they know that it wasn’t abandoned, and a selection of Al-Qatala soldiers were headed towards (y/n)’s unit. 

(y/n) and the rest of his team were more than halfway to exfil when they started to be attacked by the enemy soldiers. It wasn’t more than they’d dealt with before…but the sniper far off from the rest of the group was a damn good shot, and right when one of the other sergeants of (y/n)’s unit saw the lens flare…he’d been shot in the stomach, causing (y/n) to fall to the forest floor with a shocked expression painted on his face.

His team quickly handled the rest of the Al-Qatala soldiers, including the sniper, but they were too late for (y/n), who was slowly bleeding out into the leaves and grass below him, his blood mixing with the dirt as he looked up at the moon, full and bright in the dark sky. The bullets still whizzing around him were almost nonexistent as (y/n)’s vision started to fade to a tunnel, his only focus on the moon and the sounds of the forest, the birds and other animals calling to their friends and family, the soft rustle of his body against the leaves below him, it was like the moon was singing a song to him as he died. 

Closing his eyes fully, (y/n) couldn’t help but smile as he heard his teammate shout about the sniper being down…at least they’d get out without being hurt too badly. Laying there he couldn’t help but think about Price, the father figure he couldn’t have, the father figure he wanted to have. 

“The moon will sing a song for me, I loved you like the sun…bore the shadows that you made with no light of my own…I shine only in the light you gave me…I shine only with the light you gave me”

The funeral was planned for a few weeks later, Price made sure it was as beautiful as (y/n) deserved, stepping to the casket he couldn’t bear to look fully at the young soldier he’d failed…the soldier he saw like a son but refused to accept when he wanted and needed it most

“I’m so sorry my boy…you didn’t deserve this, you deserved to shine like the sun, not to live in the light I gave you”

[zepskies]

And So It Goes - Part 19

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job, and more importantly her life—or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

Word Count: 4,200

Tags/Warnings: Angst, tension, and a plan made…

ASIG Series Masterlist

19: Collateral

The morning after Butcher, Ben, and Hughie returned to the house came yet another bomb of information Helena wasn’t prepared for.

Homelander had been created in a lab…using Ben’s DNA.

Holy fucking shit, Helena thought, as she sat down heavily on her couch. That seemed to be the anthem of her year.

Ben explained how Vogelbaum had framed it to him back in 1980—as a simple genetics experiment (the details for which, Ben may or may not have tuned out at the time). After the weight of that fell between them all, he left the room with a large bottle of bourbon Helena had hidden under the sink.

“We’re all packed up for the road,” Butcher said. He looked over at Helena and Hughie, who sat together on her couch. Frowning, she noticed how Hughie discreetly blotted at some dark-colored substance coming from his ear. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t earwax.

What the fuck? she wondered.

“Where’s Soldier Boy?” Butcher asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

“You mean, ever since he told us he was supposed to kill his own son?” Hughie retorted. “He locked himself in the bathroom, with a bottle of Old Granddad.”

“My alcohol, you mean,” Helena quipped.

“Homelander ain’t really his son, and he knows it,” Butcher pointed out. He seemed tired, to Helena’s eyes. She could hear it in his voice. She also thought he wasn’t giving this news the full weight it deserved. It had clearly shaken Ben, no matter how much Butcher didn’t want to hear of any kind of hang-ups to their mission. 

Before she could say anything about it, Ben finally came out from down the hall. He glanced at them all before he ventured into the kitchen, grabbing a soda from the fridge.

At least it’s not my beer, Helena thought.

“All right, let’s be off then, ey?” Butcher said, hauling on his black trench coat. “We’ll swing by the office and grab some more V. Then Hughie’ll bring us to where the cunts are. And we’ll pop off Noir, then Homelander.”

Helena shot him an incredulous look.

“More V,” she said, gesturing at Hughie. “Really. Because the black sludge coming out of his ear isn’t enough of a warning sign?”

Hughie grimaced, but Butcher gave her a tight, resigned look.

“You know the score, love. We’ve got two more on the list. That means heading to the Tower,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you stayed here.”

She crossed her arms and gave him a narrowed look. After last night, she thought he would’ve understood her by now. She didn’t want him to go through with all of this, for his own sake, but if he wouldn’t listen to her, then she would at least try to make sure he and Hughie lived through this.

Because if she let him and Hughie go without her now, knowing she could’ve done something to help…then she’d never forgive herself.

“Well, there’s no sneaky way you’re going to get V24. The R&D lab is below ground at Vought Tower, Level 0. Even when I worked there I didn’t have clearance,” Helena said. Though as an idea grew in her mind, she bit her lip, and finally sighed.

“But there’s a way we can go about this without just bulldozing through the front door…I can get you in there from the control room.”

“Not necessary,” Butcher said. His brows drew together as he looked down at her, drawing closer. She met his gaze with a stubbornness he should’ve expected.

“It is if you want to maintain any kind of element of surprise against Black Noir, let alone Homelander,” she said. Butcher’s lips pressed together, but she made it clear, even in her silence, that he wasn’t leaving without her this time.

Butcher crossed his arms and met her stance, just as bullheaded as ever.

“You’re not coming,” he said.

An hour later, Helena was breezing through radio stations, sitting shotgun in Butcher’s car, while Hughie was forced to sit in the back with Ben. They were cruising at full speed down the highway towards New York City.

“Fucking land on something already,” Ben sniped from the backseat. If he heard one more station change from girly pop to heavy metal, he was going to lose his shit.

Helena rolled her eyes and settled on something they could all agree on: John Lennon, “Give Peace a Chance.” She had to stifle a sardonic smile at the irony.

After a while, Ben started to snooze in the back, while Hughie stared out the window. Helena turned to Butcher and asked something she’d been wondering for days now.

“How’d you even get ahold of V24 to begin with?” she asked.

Butcher expelled a sigh, but he was honest, after swiping a hand over his mouth and beard. “Through Maeve. She gave me the tip on Payback, on a weapon that supposedly killed Soldier Boy, the whole thing. She wants that golden cunt dead as much as we do.”

Helena nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense.”

She’d been seeing a lot about Maeve on the news; that supposedly she was in rehab, according to Vought. But Starlight fans were teaming up with Maeve fans on social media, demanding proof that she was actually where Vought said she was.

If what Butcher said was true, then maybe Vought had found out about what Maeve was up to. Maybe they’d decided to take her off the playing field.

Helena shook her head in contemplation. This was it. Homelander, Vought—the entire thing needed to crumble. As much as she hated the plan, she could admit that with Ben on board, there was a shot that it wouldn’t all end in even more blood and misery.

Helena woke after a doze to Butcher climbing back into the driver’s seat. They were stopped at a gas station, for which she assumed he’d filled up the tank. Something wasn’t right though, she thought, as the car started moving.

Ben groaned as he woke up from his long nap, and he noticed the same thing she had.

“Oh, there he is,” Butcher said.

“Where’s the cum guzzler?” Ben asked. Helena rolled her eyes; she could only assume he meant Hughie. It was a valid question though. She turned to Butcher with a frown.

“You were spot on about him. There I was, filling up the motor. I turn around, the little git had done a runner,” Butcher said.

Helena’s face turned incredulous, but the knowing shift in Butcher’s gaze implored her to play along. She hesitated, but then she tried to school her features into something more neutral.

“We needed him to get to Noir,” Ben said in annoyance.

“Ah, don’t you worry about that, guv. I got it all worked out,” said Butcher.

Now Helena knew there was something off here. She’d learned to tell when he was lying, but this time his gaze remained on the road. He glanced into the review mirror to watch Ben contemplating.

After a moment, the supe seemed to accept his words.

“Wake me when we get to New York,” he said, and laid across the entire backseat of the car.

Helena shot Butcher a sharper look. It said she’d want answers later; she knew there was no way Hughie would cut and run, not when they were so close.

Butcher nodded in acceptance. He knew he could fool Soldier Boy, but not Helena. He just had to figure out what he was going to do with Helena when they got to his apartment in the city, because he had no intention of bringing her to Vought Tower.

He glanced at her, but she was suspicious now. She crossed her arms and shook her head at him before she faced the road ahead.

It was a long car ride.

A few hours later, they arrived at the apartment Supe Affairs had been funding for Butcher’s team. There, they took some time to regroup. While Ben raided the fridge, Butcher pulled out a locked box from a large safe in the back room. Helena peered into it incredulously.

“Why do you guys have a giant-ass safe?” she asked. “You could fit a whole body in there. More than one, actually.”

She stepped back when Butcher closed it back up. He tossed her a knowing look.

“Having a lead-lined box comes in handy,” he said. He set down the smaller one he carried on the dining table and unlocked it. Inside were a few more green vials of V24. Helena’s brows raised.

“Huh. You really didn’t need my help,” she remarked. Butcher remained quiet, earning her gaze. “Why’d you let me come here with you then?”

“‘Cause I knew you’d raise hell for me, whatever I did,” he said. It was half-exasperated, but she detected the slightly softer edge behind his eyes. He knew why she was here, why she was insistent on helping him. She wanted him to come out of this in one piece, but not just for herself.

With that heavy thought, she watched him walk away from her to check on Ben in the kitchen. She was left with an open box with a handful of vials left.

The thought of V24 disgusted her…but she knew, if she was going back to Vought Tower, if she was taking any chance of coming face-to-face with Homelander again, she needed to protect herself.

She grabbed a vial and hid it in her jacket pocket.

While Helena took her time refreshing herself in the bathroom, she soon caught the muffled sounds of Butcher and Ben talking.

She carefully opened the door a crack, and she listened. She heard Ben talk about The Soldier Boy Story losing out Best Picture to American in Paris. It had been Vought’s best PR story for Soldier Boy’s background—a poor kid from the streets of South Philly, who discovered he had incredible powers to match his heart of gold.

To no one’s surprise, that story was utter bullshit.

Ben had grown up the son of one of the wealthiest steel moguls in Philadelphia, his father. Ben later got kicked out of boarding school…

“Because I was a fuck up,” Helena was surprised to hear him say. She ventured out of the bathroom and lingered in the hall, so she could spy the back of him while he continued with Butcher. Both of them were drinking. Whiskey, if she had to guess.

“But he made sure I knew it,” Ben said, speaking of his father.

“Use the belt, did he?” Butcher asked.

“Never laid a hand on me. He couldn’t be bothered,” Ben replied. “Said I was a disappointment. Not good enough to carry his name.”

Once again, Helena fought the sap within her that wanted to sympathize. She continued to fight against it, even when he admitted that his father hadn’t even been satisfied when Ben underwent Vought’s experiments and became Soldier Boy.

“He said I took a shortcut,” said Ben. “That a real man wouldn’t have cheated.”

Helena took in a subtle breath. She heard the heaviness in his voice. The resentment, and yet, a thread of resignation. She understood then where it all came from—the bravado. The machismo. The asshole behavior. It all stemmed from that wound inside him that craved validation from his father.

Helena could relate. Her own father was, and had always been impossible to please. She knew what it was like to be a disappointment.

In the living room, Ben swirled the liquor in his drink as he shoved down memories of a life he’d thought he left behind a long time ago.

“What about you, got any kids?” Ben asked.

“It’s complicated,” Butcher admitted.

But even when Ben admitted that he’d wanted kids, that he thought he could do it better than his father, Butcher saw through those threads. He reminded that Homelander wasn’t Ben’s son. Not really. He was raised in a lab to take Ben’s place. And more than that…

“Look mate,” Butcher said. “We had a deal.”

Ben drained the rest of his glass and stood. Suddenly this room felt stiff and oppressive.

“I’m gonna get some air,” he said.

Helena watched him head for the apartment’s balcony. She stepped into the living room and shared a look with Butcher.

“On one hand, you probably abandoned Hughie at some random gas station,” she said. “On the other hand, you’re doing your hardest to keep Ben on your side.”

Butcher shook his head instead of answering her, but she stepped into his path and laid a hand on his chest.

“I think you left Hughie because you wanted to save him from all this, like you probably want to leave me here,” she said. “You’re not the same man who started this whole kamikaze mission. The difference now is, you actually have a line you won’t cross.”

Butcher looked down on her, not knowing what she wanted him to say. Just now though, she didn’t need him to say anything.

She grasped the front of his shirt and pulled herself up to him, meeting his lips with hers. It was slow, but with the underlying passion that had always existed between them, right from the start. His hands migrated down the curve of her waist and held her close, his fingers pressing into her lower back.

When she broke from him and met his heavy eyes, hers were filled with quiet determination. Butcher couldn’t understand it. Part of him even hated it, knowing he was still dragging her down with him here.

“Why are you being so fucking stubborn?” Butcher asked.

Her head tilted as she gave a wry smile. “What do you mean?”

His grip on her waist tightened a little.

“Why’re you staying with me?” he pressed. “Hel, you know where this ends.”

“Billy, I don’t have a death wish,” she told him. She squeezed his arms back. “But I don’t just want you alive for me. Ryan needs you too.”

Butcher shook his head, but she stopped him from withdrawing.

“He don’t need me,” he said. “Fact is, both of you are better off without.”

“Yes, he does. He loves you, Billy. He’ll forgive you if you give it a chance. And like it or not, he’s your responsibility. Because you made a promise,” Helena said firmly, pressing a finger into his chest. Tears welled up in her eyes as she met his furrowed stare. “Be a fucking man. Take care of the people you care about. The people who love you.”

Her voice shook, but her conviction was fierce and steady. Butcher could only look down on her in silence, even though her words rattled him down to his boots.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Both of their heads turned, though their eyes briefly met before Butcher gestured for her to step back while he ventured towards the door. He looked in the peephole first.

His eyes widened. Bloody hell?

He opened the door to find Queen Maeve, looking a bit ragged in an “I <3 New York” t-shirt and some pajama pants that were too big for her. 

“Fuck me,” Butcher said in shock. “I thought you was dead.”

M.M. then quickly stepped into view, making Helena gasp when he pointed his gun directly under Butcher’s chin.

“You didn’t think I knew where the blind spots were, motherfucker?” he said.

 “M.M.!” Helena exclaimed, half in greeting, half in warning. Her face practically begged him not to pull that trigger. The other man’s lips pursed.

“Hey, Hel,” he said, more casually than he looked. Behind him and Maeve were Hughie and Annie, Kimiko and Frenchie. The whole gang was here.

“Back up,” M.M. ordered at Butcher. He obliged him by stepping back into the room, closer to Helena, but still in front of her.

“Where’s Soldier Boy?” Annie asked. Her tone boded no further bullshit.

“You on that Temp. V shit, Butcher? Huh?” M.M. demanded. “What happens if I pull this trigger?”

“M.M., stop!” Helena tried. She stepped forward, but Butcher stopped her with a hand held against her. Hughie likewise grabbed M.M.’s shoulder and imploringly diffused him, at least for the moment.

“If Soldier Boy goes through with this, thousands will die,” Hughie said. “Help us stop him.”

“This ain’t a bloody kinder care we’re on about, son. It’s Vought-fucking-Tower,” Butcher pointed out.

“Becca worked in the Tower,” said Frenchie. Helena shot him a look for that one, as did Butcher. Helena had worked for Vought as well.

“You shut your fucking cake hole, Frenchie,” Butcher shot back.

“No,” Frenchie said. He seemed to gain some confidence in standing his ground. He dropped his backpack to the floor and planted his feet as he glared back at Butcher. “No! My cakehole will remain open! You will never command me again. I am done with your cruelty—”

Helena’s brows raised. Once again, Hughie played the part of peacekeeper as he talked Frenchie down from his (seemingly well-earned) tirade. 

“We, we heard you, okay?” Hughie said. He turned to Butcher and leveled him with an honest truth. “You could’ve let me die from the V, but you saved me… In the shittiest way possible, but still. I don’t think you want to do this. I think you want me to pull you back. Like Lenny used to.”

Helena’s eyes widened. He knows about Lenny?

She looked to Butcher for his reaction…and she missed the way Maeve moved. She grabbed something out of Kimiko’s hand and tossed it out the window, despite Annie’s protests. Then she ripped M.M.’s gun apart.

“Butcher’s right. Homelander needs to die!” Maeve said. “That’s it. Whatever it takes.”

Annie shook her head in disbelief. “I really thought that deep down you were a hero.”

“Well, you were wrong,” Maeve replied. “There’s no such thing.”

“This isn’t going to happen,” Annie refuted. Her eyes glowed, displaying her power as the lights flickered.

Helena’s mouth fell open, even as Butcher subtly stepped in front of her. Was this apartment about to become a battlefield?

“Annie, I don’t want to hurt you,” Maeve said, with caution in her eyes.

“But I will,” said Ben. He finally drew back into the living room. Helena didn’t know how long it had been since he’d stepped back inside, but she could assume he’d been waiting for the right moment. That was apparently right fucking now.

He drew all eyes in the room, including M.M.’s darkened gaze.

“All right, you lot. Into the safe,” said Butcher. Helena shot him an incredulous look.

“Billy,” she tried. He wasn’t able to be so stoic looking down at her, but he was resolute in his decision.

“You too, love,” he said. His hand guided her by the small of her back. When she tried to push back, he grasped her arm with a strong, but not painful hold and shepherded her along with the rest of them into the safe. Except for Ben and Maeve, of course.

Helena met Ben’s gaze, but his unyielding mask was firmly in place. She reached out to Butcher before he closed the door. She knew what he was doing; this was his version of saving her—of keeping her out of this. But she glared at him.

“Billy, don’t do this,” she all but pleaded.

He stared back at her in silent apology. “Goodbye, Helena.”

Then he shut the door, casting them all in darkness.

She was grateful no one could see the way she wiped a tear or two from her cheeks. Butcher had shut off the power, so Annie couldn’t use her abilities to draw from the electricity. What she could do was bulldoze her way through the safe, ramming it over and over with her shoulder until the door burst open, allowing them to escape.

Annie shook off the exertion and took in deep breaths.

“Okay, they got a really big head start, but I know a way in,” she said.

“So do I,” said Helena. The women looked to one another with a tenuous truce.

“Then what?” said M.M., after he turned the power back on. “The way I see it, we’re fucked with no grease. No plan and no knockout gas.”

“Knockout gas? Is that what Maeve threw out the window?” Helena asked.

“Yeah, it’s Novichok,” Hughie explained. “A nerve agent. Literally the only thing the Russians found that can take down Soldier Boy.”

Her eyes widened. “What, it can kill him?”

“No, just put him to sleep, indefinitely,” he replied. She considered that with a frown. She couldn’t believe she was even thinking this, considering all the bullshit he’d pulled on her, but she didn’t know if putting Ben to sleep was something she wanted to see happen to him…

“Well, maybe we can reason with him, assuming he takes down Homelander,” she suggested. “Ben’s a raging asshole, but he’s not totally…”

Her words died on her tongue when she realized how M.M. was looking at her, as if he didn’t know her.

“Ben? Motherfuckin’ Ben?” he said incredulously. “So what were you doing all this time, playing fucking house with America’s oldest killer?”

“M.M., that’s not how it went down,” Hughie tried to jump in on Helena’s behalf, but she crossed her arms and stood firm.

“I was trying to help Butcher and Hughie stay alive,” she said, gesturing pointedly at the younger man. Hughie gave a sheepish look.

“Look, I’m not saying he’s a good man,” she continued, meeting M.M.’s angry gait. “But there’s humanity in Ben. I’ve seen it.”

The man had an ego a mile high and twice and wide, with anger issues and that only barely masked how repressed he was, emotionally. He’d threatened her, and even bruised her…but he hadn’t killed her.

He hadn’t wanted to. He’d walked away before he could actually break her.

It wasn’t a strong vote of confidence for his character, but it was better than Homelander, nonetheless.

“You really think you can change that rat bastard,” M.M. said, breaking her out of her thoughts as he shook his head. “Just like you think you change Butcher!”

“I’m not trying to change anyone!” she raised her voice to meet his. “But I do believe that people can choose to change. To be better.”

Because if there was no hope for that, then there was no hope for herself either.

“Call me an idiot,” she said, and she threw her hands up. “Call me a bitch and a lunatic, I don’t care! I don’t expect you to understand, but I’m going to do what I think is right.”

“Yeah, what’s right for you,” M.M. shot back.

“Maybe,” she snapped. “Maybe it is selfish, and I’m sorry. After Homelander’s dead, I’ll help you with Soldier Boy, whatever I can do. But do you really think Ben is the biggest threat right now? To everyone and anyone?”

M.M. seethed in silence, but he didn’t seem to have an answer for her. Annie, Hughie, Kimiko, and Frenchie—they all stood by Helena and M.M., in both silent contemplation and wariness. 

“Okay, then what’s less selfish?” Helena asked, with gesturing hands at him. “Taking out Soldier Boy for your revenge, or ending the biggest fucking psychopath in the world? Otherwise known as Homelander. Who, if you forgot, was responsible for my best friend’s death.”

That fell between them all, heavier than a stone in a shallow pool. Part of Helena felt guilty for spinning M.M.’s cause as selfish, but she’d made her point. M.M., Butcher, Ben, and even she had a score to settle. It was just a matter of who was willing to sacrifice the most for it.

She wasn’t willing to sacrifice her life for revenge, but she would for the ones she loved.

M.M.’s anger soon lessened, by degrees.

“Okay,” said Hughie. He cut through some of the tension, as he himself let out a breath. “How do we get more Novichok?”

“…We don’t,” M.M. said. “That was the only one.”

After a moment of deliberation, Frenchie chimed in. There was a lab in New York that might just have what he needed. It just happened to be Vought’s R&D lab on Level 0.

It was a crazy plan.

“We’re going to break into Vought Tower, while you go to the lab, crawling with armed guards, and you’re gonna cook up the world’s most dangerous neurotoxin?” M.M. said. Sarcasm and disbelief dripped with every word. “With what, a little moxie and a little Mr. Wizard know-how? While we hold off Homelander and Soldier Boy?”

“Uh…oui?” said Frenchie.

Helena looked over at him with a sharp frown. “Are you fucking high?”

He gave her a smile. “Also oui.”

She sighed and covered her eyes with her hand.

“We’re so screwed,” she muttered. “But we’re also wasting time.”

“It’s good enough for me,” Hughie said, with a smile. Annie met her boyfriend with a smile of her own.

“Me too,” she said.

Kimiko agreed to this ingenious plan more readily than M.M., and even Helena. Even so, they had no other options. They were heading to Vought Tower.

AN: Phew! On to the finale! (And then the Epilogue after that.) I finally finished writing the last chapters of this series, so the next chapter will be out soon: on 2/20.

Next Time:

By the time Helena turned back to the scene before them, Ryan’s eyes were glowing red.

He shot a laser beam right at Soldier Boy, knocking him through the far wall and onto his ass. When he got up, shaking rubble from his shoulders, he clearly wasn’t happy about it.

Fortunately, Helena reached Ryan just as Ben took a few intimidating steps forward.

“Ben, stop!” she shouted. And it actually halted the supe’s steps.

Keep Reading: Part 20

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[aegor-bamfsteel]

In a sense, would you consider Theon Greyjoy to be Ned Stark’s son, as Jon Snow (despite his true heritage) very much is?

Well, let’s ask Theon, before his imprisonment by Ramsay:

Theon held his tongue, though not without struggle. So that is the way of it, he thought. As if ten years in Winterfell could make a Stark. Lord Eddard had raised him among his own children, but Theon had never been one of them. The whole castle, from Lady Stark to the lowliest kitchen scullion, knew he was hostage to his father's good behavior, and treated him accordingly. Even the bastard Jon Snow had been accorded more honor than he had.

Lord Eddard had tried to play the father from time to time, but to Theon he had always remained the man who'd brought blood and fire to Pyke and taken him from his home. As a boy, he had lived in fear of Stark's stern face and great dark sword. His wife was, if anything, even more distant and suspicious.

"I forget nothing." Ned Stark had killed neither of his brothers, in truth. Rodrik had been slain by Lord Jason Mallister at Seagard, Maron crushed in the collapse of the old south tower . . . but Stark would have done for them just as quick had the tide of battle chanced to sweep them together.  —Theon I, ACOK

Theon thought of seeking out the bodies of the two men he'd slain himself to see if they had any jewelry worth the taking, but the notion left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could imagine what Eddard Stark would have said. Yet that thought made him angry too. Stark is dead and rotting, and naught to me, he reminded himself. Ugly as it was, that smile brought back a hundred memories. Theon had seen it often as a boy, when he'd jumped a horse over a mossy wall, or flung an axe and split a target square. He'd seen it when he blocked a blow from Dagmer's sword, when he put an arrow through a seagull on the wing, when he took the tiller in hand and guided a longship safely through a snarl of foaming rocks. He gave me more smiles than my father and Eddard Stark together. —Theon III, ACOK

"This is craven," Ser Rodrik said. "To use a child so . . . this is despicable." "Oh, I know," said Theon. "It's a dish I tasted myself, or have you forgotten? I was ten when I was taken from my father's house, to make certain he would raise no more rebellions."

The noose I wore was not made of hempen rope, that's true enough, but I felt it all the same. And it chafed, Ser Rodrik. It chafed me raw." He had never quite realized that until now, but as the words came spilling out he saw the truth of them. —Theon VI, ACOK

And after his torture:

But if anyone spoke of him now, it was as Theon Turncloak, and the tales they told were of his treachery. This was never my home. I was a hostage here. Lord Stark had not treated him cruelly, but the long steel shadow of his greatsword had always been between them. He was kind to me, but never warm. He knew that one day he might need to put me to death. —The Prince of Winterfell, ADWD

The old gods, he thought. They know me. They know my name. I was Theon of House Greyjoy. I was a ward of Eddard Stark, a friend and brother to his children. "Please." He fell to his knees. "A sword, that's all I ask. Let me die as Theon, not as Reek." Tears trickled down his cheeks, impossibly warm. "I was ironborn. A son … a son of Pyke, of the islands." —A Ghost in Winterfell, ADWD

It’s true that his feelings toward Ned had softened by ADWD (which makes sense, given what he’s been through with Ramsay), but despite that there’s a common theme that Ned was always cold and distant, never affectionate, because everyone knew Theon was a hostage for Balon’s good behavior, and Ned would’ve had to execute him had he rebelled again. There was really no way that Ned and Theon could’ve developed the positive relationship that Ned and Jon did (despite the shadow of Jon’s mother between them, Jon looks up to Ned and wants to make him proud) given that history. He may have called him a “second father” in swearing his oath to Robb, but neither Balon nor Ned were true father figures to Theon, so he considers Cleftjaw his “uncle” (the man who gave him affection as a child). Ned considered Jon Arryn a second father, as Quentyn did Lord Yronwood, but neither had Theon’s history as a hostage against their birth family.

Now, Theon doesn’t have the same baggage with Ned’s kids as with the man himself. He saved Bran and fought alongside Robb (who in his first chapter admits to having affection for, “as for a little brother”), so it makes sense a regretful Theon would think of himself as their friend and brother. But he’d never think of Ned as his “true father” (another example of the show misunderstanding his character).

[altheasmeadow]

Nothing To Worry About

WC: 697

Pairing: Minho x reader

Marrying by convenience was never the plan, she truly thought she’d marry the love of her life. But being the heiress of many large businesses, she didn’t have much time for love, until he came. He had been her light in the dark, always there to make her feel a little less lonely throughout her young adult years, She honestly woud’ve married him, things don’t always work out that way.

“So who all is going to be at this dinner?” Lee Minho her husband wondered aloud as he dressed her up all pretty. It was one of the things she enjoyed about the arranged marriage. Minho loved dressing up both himself and her, so she never had to worry about looking the part. 

“The Seo family, the Kim family, the Park family and the Bang family.”

“Kim…” He hummed, knowing that their heir was your first choice of marriage leaving a sour taste in his mouth and a tight feeling in his chest. Though they hadn’t picked to be partners it was very apparent the two had gotten very close in the time they’ve been together, feelings were developing but clouded by the fact that it wasn’t necessarily their choice to be together so neither tried to acknowledge the feelings.

“Yes.”

“As in Kim Seungmin?” He wondered yet again, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“Yea, they’re partners with my father.”

“I’m aware.”

The rest of the getting ready was done in silence, she was lost in her thoughts and he was lost in her, wondering if she would be okay after their nasty breakup. 

“Are you ready?” He wondered, reaching a hand out to grasp hers arning only a weak nod in return, his neutral expression turning into a frown.

The two headed off to their business dinner yet again in silence which was not a common occurrence the two could talk about everything under the sun any time of day usually. Even their personal driver looked on with discomfort.

“Do I look okay?” She wondered as he helped her out of the car, his face twisting into offense.

“You never second guess my picking, do I have something to be worried about meeting with the Kim family?” Minho was never one to be insecure but he was definitely prone to jealousy, loving to make it completely clear that she was with him without her knowing, like matching jewlery or color coordinating their outfits. It was a subtle thing but almost every always knew they were together and never bothered to try and get between the two.

“Ah Lee’s lovely to see you guys!” Mrs. Kim greeted, getting up to hug her son’s ex and her husband. All parties at the table took their turns greeting the couple until Kim Seungmin stepped up with a sheepish grin on his face.

“I believe congratulations are in order. The Ceremony was beautiful. Could’ve done with some blue though.” He hummed before turning on his heel and walking away leaving her to balk at the broas shoulders.

“Blue?” Minho wondered, feeling a little confused and annoyed.

“He wanted blue in our wedding, it wasn’t my ideal thing but I agreed when he and I had spoken, before the ordeal.” She explained quietly, trying to shake off her shock at the man’s boldness.

“You guys planned a wedding?”

“He planned it, he wanted to get power of the companies as fast as he could so within a few months he was already shoving wedding plans down my throat.” 

“So what I’m hearing is there is absolutely nothing to worry about because he’s a psycho that you will never be interested in again?” He teased, leaning in next to her face with a grin, happy that the perfect kim son he had heard so much about had a flaw.

She hummed turning to face him a little better and placed a quick but efficient kiss on his lips causing the feline-like man to reel back slightly in shock but far from discontent.

“Nothing to worry about at all.” and the silent promise was all he needed to swoop down grasping her waist in his hands and pulling her as tight as humanly possible.

[dbnightingale24]

A Sneak Peek To ‘The Dog House Isn’t The Best, But It Can Still Be Our Home’

The final installation to ‘Pavlov’s Dog’

~~

 Finally getting back into the swing of writing!! It’s been a crazy month, so I haven’t been able to write like I want to, but I think we’re finally getting back into a habit...well, as much as a habit as one can get into. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it, and I can’t wait finish this up and post it!

Warnings: Swearing, Arguing, Heartbreak, Crying, Co-Parenting...ish

Word Count: 2163

~~ 

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“You can’t be here,” you muttered as met me at your parents front door.

“You won’t answer my texts or calls-”

“Because we’re done! Ransom, please stop. Please! This hurts too much and we need to just call it quits!”

“Why? Because of what I said?! I know it was fucked up and I fucking apologized-”

“Ransom, I can’t do this right now! I can’t deal with you and all of your bullshit-”

“What bullshit?! I love you!”

“I don’t wanna do this with you again. Please, don’t make me do this again.”

“You love me-”

“What does that mean?! Honestly, what the fuck does that mean in this situation?! I said it before and I’ll fucking say it again: you’re a fucking bully, Ransom! You don’t care about who you hurt as long as you get your way, and I can’t do it! I’m no saint, but I’m not that terrible! Whether or not he’s your child or not, he didn’t deserve to hear you speak about him like that!”

“He is my child,” I confessed softly.

If the situation hadn’t been so damn serious, I would’ve laughed at the look of pure bewilderment on your face. You were probably wondering how I could’ve been so careless, cause it was all I could think about since Marta told the both of us.

“I can’t...I can’t do this right now, Ransom. I have to-”

“Y/N, I love you. I love you so much and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that,” I promised as I got down on one knee.

“You can’t be fucking serious right now!” you snapped as your eyes went wide.

“We’re meant to be-”

“Ransom, please don’t do this. Not right here and not right now,” you sobbed as you shook your head.

Why didn’t I listen? Why can’t I ever just fucking listen?

“Why not? It’s difficult, but it’s not impossible! We can do this!”

“Ransom, stop it! Please don’t do this-”

“Marry me, Y/N. Just say yes. We can do this, all you have to do is say-”

“No, Ransom,” you sobbed. “I won’t marry you. Not right now and not like this.”

“Y/N-”

“This isn’t how this is supposed to go. You don’t propose as a last desperate plea! I’m not some fucking toy, I’m not your Mom, and I’m not your fucking therapist. I can’t be your fucking scapegoat-”

“You wouldn’t be!”

“That’s all I would be! Ransom, I can’t do this-”

“Yes, you can! Just say yes! We can move, we can start over, we can start our lives together-”

“No we can’t! Ransom, this isn’t going to solve all of the problems we have-”

“But it can!”

“Ransom, please don’t make me give you a definite answer right now, because you won’t like it.”

“Just say yes! There’s no reason not to-”

“They’re a million reasons not to! Ransom, no. I can’t just jump into this because I’m in love with you-”

“Jump into this because you know it’s right!  We’re right for each other and we have been-”

“What about your son?!”

“What about him?! She did all of this out of spite and jealousy-”

“So he should suffer?! He did nothing and-”

“He doesn’t even know me! He’s gone this long without knowing me, and he’s probably better off for it!”

“Do you even hear yourself?! That’s a fucking cop out and you know it!”

“I never wanted a life with her!”

“You still fucking lied to and manipulated her, Ransom! I hate to break it to you, but they’re consequences to your actions!”

“Listen, I know I fucked up and I hurt you...I’ve hurt others, but before this...Y/N, we were doing so good! Please! I love you and you love me-”

“Love isn’t enough, Ransom. Not this time,” you sobbed as you backed up. “Please, just leave me alone, Ransom. Stop sending flowers, stop coming up around, stop calling and texting...please, just let me go. I love you so much, but I can’t take this anymore. You’re one way with me in private, and completely different in public and I just can’t...you’re not a bad guy, Ransom. I know you want the rest of the world to see you that way as a defense mechanism, but I know you. Truly know you and I don’t like the asshole you pretend to be. I never expected you to be perfect, and yeah, I could live with a lot of things, but you’re just making excuses for yourself! You don’t try at all and I won’t...I can’t the only guiding light in your life. I can’t be the only thing you care about, especially when you don’t even care about yourself!”

“Sweet Thing-”

“No Ransom, I love you, but I can’t keep making excuses for you-for myself so I’ll be able to stomach the shady shit you do! Love is not enough-”

“Everything I’ve done is forgivable!”

“Tell that to Fran!”

“You were fine with it before-”

“Just because I stomached it, doesn’t mean I was fine with it, and ya know what? That’s on me. I talked myself into believing that you were trying to change because of how well you were treating me, but that was all bullshit, wasn’t it? It was all an act-”

“No, it wasn’t! I love you-”

“Ransom, I can’t do this anymore. Love is clearly not enough...not anymore.”

“Y/N-”

“Please go,” you sobbed softly.

What other choice did I have? The resignation was in your eyes, and it had been there since we got back to my house that day. I can’t even blame you, because it’s my lifestyle that put us in the position we’re in, isn’t it? There’s not even a ‘we’.

There’s only me.

You could barely even look at me today, and why should you? Why would you? Lets not pretend any of this shit is on you. From day one, I’ve been getting all of this shit wrong, for reasons that shouldn’t have mattered. I should’ve gone after you the right way when I had the chance, but pride and fear got in the way and I stayed silent. Then, when I finally decided that it was time to go after you, it was because of my bruised ego. Then, despite all of the hell you ended up going through, you still gave me a chance.

Why do I have to fuck up everything? Why can’t I ever bite my tongue, especially when my temper flares up.

You were 100% right in everything that you said. You and I have had so many talks about our shitty childhoods, how terrible our parents were, and what the fuck do I do? The second the words left my mouth, I knew you were more furious with me than anything else, but I couldn’t stop myself.

Fuck Marta.

Yeah, I know my actions have consequences and all that shit, but she did this out of spite, and a stupid weak attempt to win me back. She knew I would snap, especially with Linda being there, and it had nothing to do with our son getting to know me.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t throw you down the fucking steps right now?!” I snarled as I threw the results of the paternity test down. “You little bitch-”

“He has a right to know-”

“Bullshit! Marta this is all bullshit! You don’t give a fuck if that kid knows who his father is or not, and-”

“He’s your son, Ransom!”

“Then why wait until now?! You tell me about him after how many years?!”

She said nothing as tears streamed down her face.

“FUCKING ANSWER ME, MARTA! YOU JUST RUINED THE MOST IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIP IN MY LIFE-”

“YOU TOLD ME YOU LOVED ME!” she shouted at me. “You told me you loved me, took half of the inheritance and the company and left!”

“Don’t fucking blame me because you didn’t cover your own ass, Marta! You’ve always known the type of man I am, so I don’t know why you truly believed you were so fucking so special when I-”

“Because you made me believe I was! You made me-”

“Jesus Marta, has no one ever taken you out? Showed you a good time, fucked you senseless? I do a few basic things and you thought a ring was coming? I barely even had to work get that money, but and it’s my fault?! Have I not made sure you’re taken care of? You’re sister and Mother are taken care of, aren’t they?! I’m the one keeping the family afloat in accordance to Harlan’s wishes, not Walt, so I’m still taking care of you! So what the fuck?!”

“What the fuck is so special about her?! What’s so fucking great about her that you’re ready and willing to change your ways?! Why do you get to have your happy ending?! All you do is take from and hurt people! So no! I wasn’t about to sit back and let you live in some fucking fairy-tale!”

“I hope you don’t expect me to help you raise him-”

“He’s your son and now he knows who his Father is!”

“He also knows I don’t want him, and whose fucking fault is that?! You didn’t think about him at all! Not only does Linda know, but you made sure to crush his soul!”

“That’s not-”

“Not what? Not fucking true? It fucking burns you, doesn’t it?! You’re not the fucking saint that everyone thinks you are! At the end of the fucking day, you’re just as terrible and two faced as the rest of us!” I spat at her, venom laced in every word.

She’d probably been holding it in for a majority of the talk, but she finally ran to the trash and threw up everything in her.

“Exactly, as much as you hate me, I can read you like a fucking book. You’re not as holy, perfect, and saint like as you’d like for everyone to believe. Fuck you, Marta!” I yelled before I started to storm out.

“What...what do you think is gonna...happen?” she breathed once she finally got herself together. “You think...you think she’s gonna take you back after you abandoned your own son? After...after all the things you’ve...said? She’s too good for you, Ransom. She doesn’t want damaged goods.”

It’s not like she was wrong.

There was no way in hell you’d take me back, especially if I would’ve abandoned my own child...again. So, I’ve been trying. Really trying. The kid isn’t so bad, and more times than not, I enjoy spending time with him. It’s just not how I imagined things at all. I never even wanted kids until I had your attention, and you’re the only one I ever wanted children with. However, things are what they are, and I do my best to make him happy. Even if you weren’t in the picture, I know what it’s like to have shitty parents.

You were right in saying that my carelessness isn’t his fault.

So, I take him to ball games, I try to care about how he does in school (even though I didn’t care about school, at all), I bring him to work and show him what might be his one day, I call when I’m not around, I don’t yell at him when cries (like my fucking mother did), and I try to control my temper around him. So far, he’s a pretty evened out kid, and I won’t be responsible for fucking him up.

“He’s asleep now,” Marta smiles at me as she makes her way down the stairs. “He had a great day, Ransom. Thanks for the surprise trip to the museum.”

“Yeah well, he’s my son too,” I shrug as I get up. “I’ll be back next weekend to pick him up-”

“Stay. We can talk, watch a movie-”

“Marta, don’t. Nothing has changed between us, it’s the same as they’ve always been.”

“She barely even looked at you today, Ransom.”

“That doesn’t mean I fell in love with you.”

“Ransom-”

“You got your revenge, Marta. I don’t know what the hell else you want from me. I help you raise our child, you and your family are still taken care of, I keep you looped into everything that happens with the publishing company-”

“What’s so wrong with me that you can’t even try to make it work, Ransom?”

“You’re just not her, Marta. That’s not meant to hurt you. That’s not to make you feel small, and I don’t want to argue. I have loved Y/N since kindergarten and it’s only grown over time. Yeah, I’m an asshole, that’s not lost on anyone, but I do truly love Y/N. You made sure to kill any chance of that relationship turning into something real, so you win. At the end of the day, you win. I’ll see you next weekend,” I nod before making my way out, leaving Marta heartbroken once again.

~~

taglist: @emerald-evans​, @maroonsunrise83​, @nomadstucky​, @autumnrose40​, @fuckingbye​, @companionjones​, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​, @mazda098​, @pono-pura-vida​

[phagechildon]

((Thank you so much for the request! I received another in my Ask Box and I'll get to that one as soon as I can! Here's a hair care scene, but I can't write anything without some kind of conflict XD I hope you like it @xiaokuer-schmetterling =D))

It was supposed to be a simple night hunt. Solve the mystery of the elusive siren who put those who stayed out after midnight under their spell, commanding them to do whatever they wanted until the sun rose. At first, it was simple thievery. When the village banded together in an attempt to track down the one responsible, they all fell victim to their spell, nearly destroying their livelihoods. 

While the night hunt sounded dangerous, the young disciples looked at their Wei-gongzi who merely laughed at the distressed villagers. 

“You don’t understand! If one of you becomes their victim, you’ll destroy what’s left of our village!”

“If you don’t trust the experts, why call them in the first place?” Wei Wuxian asked with a big grin, watching the man’s shoulders tense even more. “We’ll resolve this tonight.”

Wei Ying, of course, wasn’t wrong. As soon as midnight rang, he pressed Chenqing to his lips and played the melody of his soul - Wangxian. A soothing melody, one that comforted Sizhui and the others. But underneath that tone was a vocal, one so eerie it gave them goosebumps. 

Wei Wuxian simply started walking forward, playing flawlessly. The siren’s powers only worked when it was the only sound clouding their victim’s mind. So naturally, it targeted Wei Ying, the disciples quickly stepping in. 

One thing led to another, and by the time the sun started to rise, the Yiling Laozu was covered from head to toe in mud, sap, and something that smelled so putrid he really didn’t want to know what it was. 

Expect the unexpected. They always followed that motto, but nothing could’ve prepared them for an owl to suddenly grow and attack him. If the disciples stepped in to help, they’d release the siren, and without Wei-gongzi’s flute, they’d fall under its control. 

Not like he was in any real danger. He’s definitely faced worse. Having taken care of the creature, he walked up to the disciples, watching their restraint nearly breaking. 

“Haha, laugh if you want. This proves that you have to expect even the most unexpected things!” He wasn’t really in the mood to lecture them that much. After sealing the siren in a mirror, they headed to the inn where Wei Ying grumpily requested a bath. 

That didn’t seem to help. No matter how much he tried scrubbing the gunk and junk out of his hair, it refused to leave, like a red stain on white parchment. It was absolutely infuriating. 

After an hour, he gave up, refusing the leave the water in hopes it would eventually leave. A knock on the door made him inwardly groan, not feeling like dealing with anyone right now. 

“Wei-gongzi, they’re serving breakfast. Would you like anything?”

Normally he wasn’t awake after ending the night hunt so late, but Sizhui knew him too well. That boy, their son, was sharp and intuitive. 

“I’ll pass, but thanks.”

“Do… you need anything?”

This boy - he loved him so much. “The finest hair products they have. I’ll pay you back!”

Time passed, and without realizing it, he dozed off. Dangerous and reckless, he could’ve drowned, he heard Hanguang-jun lightly scold him. He couldn't help it though. Without his husband, he didn’t know what to do with himself. Would his old body's hair have done this? What if it never came out? How could Lan Zhan still love him?

“Wei Ying,” his husband’s melodious voice grounded him, along with those long fingers combing through his wet hair. “Are you awake?”

The darkness surrounding his mind instantly melted away as he opened his silver eyes and slowly sat up. He was still in the tub, but his skin wasn’t wrinkly and gross. His husband must’ve taken him out for a bit and changed the water before putting him back in. A warmth settled into his heart, one that made him smile with true, genuine love and joy. 

“Lan Zhan!” He happily cried, leaning forward to press their lips together. It was short and sweet, forcing a whine from Wei Ying when his husband pulled back so soon. 

“You are hurt.”

Hurt? Was he talking about his hair? No, those golden eyes rested upon his shoulders, prompting him to lightly brush his fingers against one of them - only to flinch away from the sting. 

Right, the owl’s claws sunk into his shoulders. With all the crap he was covered in, it was no wonder he nor the disciples realized it. 

“Okay, in my defense, who thought that stupid annoying owl was a fucking huge yao.” The villagers hadn’t even mentioned it, and with his foul mood, he forgot to ask about it. “The resentment was sealed until it changed into its true form. Way more formidable than that siren.” 

Those golden eyes narrowed in both anger and concern, unable to tear themselves away from the scabbed over marks. The glare made Wei Ying’s own expression soften, unable to help himself from reaching up and cradling his husband’s face. 

“I am here, I am safe,” he quietly reassured, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m not leaving without you, Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-jun, my husband. I promise.” Their lips crashed together, the kiss urgent and all absorbing. They kissed until their lips were red and nearly swollen, especially Wei Ying’s. 

As they took a moment to catch their breaths, Lan Zhan’s fingers once more threaded through Wei Ying’s hair, easily getting caught and tangled in all the crap that practically glued his strands together. The reminder made him whine, pulling Lan Zhan closer to the tub so he could bury his face into his shoulder. 

“Lan Zhannn, I’m hideous now. I can’t be caught with you in public or I’ll taint your reputation even more!”

“Wei Ying never tainted my reputation. Even if you had, I would not have cared.” He pulled his fingers out and tried running them through a different section of his hair, failing as they quickly got caught up in the yarn-ball mess. 

“I’ll never get to enjoy your hands running through my hair eitherrrrr,” he continued to whine like a child. In the back of his mind, he could hear Yanli asking him how old he was. 

“Sizhui informed me, so I’ve come prepared.”

His heart fluttered again. “Our boy is something else,” he happily sighed, feeling more warmth envelop his chest. “Hanguang-jun raised him to be such a gentleman.”

“We raised him,” Lan Zhan clarified, uncapping a bottle and pouring the contents in his hands. Wei Ying couldn’t help but snort, leaning back into the tub as to avoid his husband from getting all soapy too. Normally he’d relish the idea, but not with the crud stuck in his hair. 

“I think I taught him how to be everything but a gentleman.”

“Wei Ying taught him how to be a child. That is what he needed back then.” 

Huh, he never thought about it like that. It really put a few things into perspective for him. Back then, they didn’t have much, yet they managed to find happiness in the smallest of things. 

A soft hum left his lips as Lan Zhan started lathering his hair with the new shampoo that smelled like minty lemons with hints of other pleasant scents. His strong, slender fingers squeezed his hair together as he lathered it in, attempting to force it between the cracks and crevices of the crap in his hair. It felt nice and relaxing, especially when he started to deeply massage his scalp. A soft moan left his lips as his eyes fluttered closed, feeling his body fully relax. The sound made those hands hesitate for a moment before regaining their momentum, taking extra care not to get any in his eyes or ears. 

All good things come to an end, this being no exception. Using a spare ribbon to tie his hair into a bun so it could soak, his husband dipped his hands into the water, to which Wei Ying immediately captured. Without hesitation he pressed soft kisses to each knuckle, terribly grateful for his soulmate’s dedication and unyielding love. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Lan Zhan.”

“Mn, me too.” He wasn’t supposed to come. While it was hard to be separated for long periods of time, they were getting better at it, even if it hurt. After this night hunt they were supposed to head over to a village suffering from illusions caused by an unknown force, to which Lan Zhan would meet up with them after their first investigation. 

Sizhui no doubt sent for him earlier due to the stupid owl attack. 

Turning his hand over, Lan Zhan felt for his meridians, transferring some spiritual power to aid in healing the wounds on his shoulders. By now Wei Ying knew better than to argue. He let it happen, catching his reflection in the bathwater and snorting. 

While his hair was done up in a bun, it reminded him of a little apple on his head. Back in the day when he used to share baths with Jiang Cheng, they’d often mess up each other’s hair using the shampoo and conditioner to make all crazy shapes. 

With his free hand he reached up and carefully pulled on pieces of the hair in the bun, shaping the hair into a little crude bunny. 

“Lan Zhan Lan Zhan, it’s a bunny!” He laughed, prompting those golden eyes to open and peek up at the messed up bun. A hint of a smile crossed his face, making Wei Ying nearly melt. 

He needed more of that. 

Pinching around, he made it look like a mouse. “Look look! It’s like a smaller bunny.” It didn’t look too different from the bunny, but the longer tail was the dead giveaway to what he was trying to make. Watching his husband’s reactions only egged him on, horribly constructing other animals that eventually ruined the integrity of the bun. Not that it mattered, it gave Wei Ying full reign to his soapy hair, shaping it into everything he could imagine. 

“Duck, mountain, crown-!” He went on and on, giggling like he was a child again. The small glimmering light in those golden eyes spoke volumes, revealing Lan Zhan’s never done this before. Eventually his hands let go of Wei Ying’s wrist to move and form the hair into shapes himself. Because this was his first time, guessing was extremely hard, but he didn’t seem to mind, not when it made Wei Ying laugh harder each time. 

Like before, all good things must come to an end. Lan Zhan dutifully started to rinse his hair, his fingers actually gliding through the strands this time. There were a few times they struggled against a stubborn batch, but thankfully the shampoo was powerful and washed it all away. 

Out of the tub, Wei Ying sat in Lan Zhan’s lap, sighing happily as his husband carefully combed his hair. With how tangled it was, he started with the ends, slowly making his way up. When it got to the point of being knot-free, he continued to brush it, knowing how much Wei Ying loved the sensation. 

“Better?” Lan Wangji quietly asked, pressing a soft kiss on the top of his head. Wei Ying buried his face further into his shoulder, making it harder to brush his hair. He no longer cared, he just wanted to sleep against his beloved. 

“Lan Zhan… if that was permanently in my hair, would you still love me?” He whispered quietly, a little shame twisted in his tone. 

Lan Zhan set the brush down before pushing Wei Ying into the bed, kissing him lovingly on the lips. Their fingers slowly threaded together, squeezing each other so fondly their hearts ached. 

Pulling away, his husband pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, tip of the nose, both cheeks, then his chin. Now wasn’t the time for sexual advances, as much as they both loved to uphold “everyday means everyday.”

Instead he rolled onto his back, pulling Wei Ying on top of himself. “I love you in any and every way I can get you, in this life, and all our future ones.”

Tears gathered in his silver eyes, unable to help himself from burying his face into his soulmate’s chest. 

“You too. I will always love you, my Lan Zhan.”

The two whispered sweet nothings as they slowly drifted to sleep, Lan Zhan’s fingers still running through his husband’s now silky strands.