#I just see a million mistakes but I fear I have to close my eyes and like leave it be

[blemiish]

If you need a friend, don’t look to a stranger

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf (3)

III. The Tower

MASTERLIST

Summary: People are coming and going

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, talks about bedding and non concensual sexual relationships, threats of mutilation, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon 

Wordcount: 4.6 k 

Notes: Sorry for the delay my loves! I’m travelling! and I’m so marveled by the things I see in real life that I’m having trouble entering into my magical world jeje

I must say… and warnings for spoilers for the chapter, but Maester Gerardys was brutally unalived by Aegon in Fire and Blood, yet I’m bringing him back to life because we need known faces in the keep! jeje I don’t want to made up so many characters! 

I did not double check this for mistakes

So this is what she meant with “that could be easily arranged”, Cregan thought, as he saw his Queen petting the snout of her huge fearsome dragon

Vhaelar? She called it?

It was big, very big, not that he had many dragons to compare it to besides Jacaerys’ dragon, this one was much bigger

White, it was unusual, his scales lit up under the sun, giving him an unrealistic look, like the huge beast didn’t belong in this plain

He had just seen it burn eighteen men to dust and yet, the creature didn’t even spare him a look, he didn’t felt threatened by the dragon, like she wouldn’t hurt him, like she knew him

You were speaking to her, in a language he couldn’t understand, perhaps it was High Valyrian, only he heard you speak his name to the dragon

And then the beast directed her golden eyes directly at him. it was barely a second before she turned her whole attention back to you

You were speaking to her, and she understood you perfectly 

The last child of Rhaenyra, the young Queen, the last dragon

An impulsive, broken young girl, young QUEEN, had the last dragon, the only one left

He smiled widely

You had the anger, and the power to back it up, you were going to be loved by your allies and feared by those who weren’t, and that was the perfect combinations, loved by millions, feared by them too

The huge beast raised her head, growling, you took some steps back and she took flight, her huge wingspan making his clothes flutter like it was the wind. You walked towards him with a soft smile on your face.

But the smile didn’t reach your eyes, it never did 

“I thought the dragons in your family…”

“She didn’t rest on the pit, that is why she was spared from the traitor’s rage”, you referred to the common folk as traitors… 

“The trials have come to an end, your grace”, he said surely

“Indeed”, you muttered

“Yet, I have send ravens to all corners of the realm, people from all over will come to swear their allegiance to you, so… busy weeks are coming”, he warned, you barely nodded

“I’m glad”, you said softly

“But not only that… they will not only bring their oaths, they will bring their problems, I fear I must warn you, they will make demands of you, the entire continent was devastated by a civil war, every town, city and holdfast”. You heard him intently and nodded

“Yes, thank you, my lord Stark”, you offered a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and he sighed barely loudly

Should he be scared of you?

He felt like he was very close to a wild animal, he would never know how or when you were going to react. He was waiting for the perfect moment for you to snap and turn on someone or something

He really hoped you wouldn't

But somehow… he hoped you would

He wanted to see the fire in you, he had to stoke it, because fire was better than nothing, fire was better than the remains…

You were sitting the most dangerous seat on the realm, he needed you to be dangerous, if only a little bit, he needed to see the fight in you, a passion of some sorts 

That night he found you in the library, to his great surprise, you were reading tomes about Jaehaerys and Aegon the Conqueror’s rule 

You were tired, but didn’t want to relent the story about how The Good Queen Alyssane prohibited the Prima Nocta and with which laws

The Lord Hand my Queen, introduced your Queen’s Guard, you smiled at the man as you closed the huge and dusty book

“My Lord Hand”, you greeted

“My Queen”, he said, “may I”, he said painting to the chair, you nodded

He sat slowly in front of you, he got rid of his cape, instead wearing a leather best instead

“What are you reading? if I may ask?”, he said softly

“Just somethings about the laws that were created by the Good Queen Alysanne”, you said dismissively, “you needed to speak to me, my lord”

“It’s time, imperative and time sensitive that we name the new small council, we cannot rule without one”, he said, you barely nodded, “we will need, A master of coins, a master of laws, a master of ships, a Grand Maester, and… a Master of whispers if you choose to have one, and of course, a Hand and the Lord commander of your Queensguard”, he listed

“We have you”, you said with a smile, and Cregan barely nodded, this was not the time to inform you he wanted to return to the North… he will give you more time, “And Lord Arryk”, you muttered, “we have mAESTER gERARDYS”

“You wish to name him Great maester?”, he asked, you nodded, “very well”

“I don't trust anyone else”, you whispered

“What do you mean?”, he asked, concerned

“Maesters come from the Citadel… of Oldtown… of the Hightowers”, you whispered, Cregan nodded

“Yes, I understand your concerns”, he said softly, “how about Lord Corlys?”, he said then

“He is old, and betrayed my mother”, you said quickly, “his time has passed”, Cregan nodded

“I’m not sure if antagonizing House Velaryon is a good idea”, he said gently

“We pardoned him, and let him keep his properties”, you muttered, “he will have to be contented with that and his granddaughters”, you muttered

“Very well”, he said

“No Velaryons, no Hightowers”, you said firmly

“Tyland Lannister”, he said

“Master of Coin”, you said with a nod, “he might be a Lannister but he served King Viserys and…. Aegon… loyaly, we need the Lannisters”, you admitted, he nodded

“Great”

“After the war, who do you think has the greatest armada of the Seven Kingdoms?”, you asked 

“It has to be the Redwyne’s”, he said firmly

“Are they summoned to court?”

“Yes my Queen”

“Good”, Cregan smiled as you never stopped to surprise him

“They pledge for Aegon, but I’m sure under the right circumstances, they will bend the knee to you”

“Then we will make sure, that the Tarlys present themselves first”, you said, “the Lords of the Reach, and make sure we serve their wine at the festivities”, Cregan nodded 

“So, we have a grand maester, a Lord Commander, a Master of coins and luckily a master of ships…”, he listed

“We need a maester of Laws”, you said softly, “a strong, joust man…or woman”, you corrected, “someone who draws respect…someone who knows the real world, who has traveled and seen to the furthest corners of the Realm”

“You are describing Lord Corlys”, he said, concerned

“There has to be someone else”, you whined

“I might know someone”, muttered Cregan, “He served the blacks”

“Good”, you muttered with shy smile

“He is at court, he was summoned when I called for the remainder of your mother’s small council”. Yes, introducing you to important Lords and Ladies of the realm, he needed to ease you into politics, who to trust and who don’t

Making you Queen was not only for revenge, not because it was the right thing to do…

Were you actually good for this? where you meant for the throne?

“Even if we don’t need a master of whispers, I think we should have one”, he said softly

“Who that might be?”, you asked back

“I will look into it”, he was also going to look into who was going to replace him as hand when his inevitable return to the North comes to be, but he didn’t want to say that yet…

He needed you stable, and surrounded by people you trust first

“You should have some sleep my Queen we all need it”, he said gently, you nodded, and raised from your sit, “I’ll walk you to your rooms”

He had the rooms of the king ready for you, and it was a curious thing to sleep there, but you did, it had been two years since your grandfather, and your mother didn’t use the rooms, so… it wasn’t that odd.

They replaced the upholsterers, tapestries and paint, and it looked beautiful, filled with flowers and soft colors, you liked it, it was spacious

Cregan stopped at the doors

“Thank you, my lord Stark”, you didn’t know why, but you always felt relaxed and safe next to him, but now, you felt nervous

“You are most welcome my Queen”, he said softly, “tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to your prospect of Master of Laws”, he said softly, “we were made brothers at arms at a time in White Harbor when I was very young”, he said softly

“Good”, you said said with a soft smile, “If he is a friend of you, he is a friend of the crown”

“you are speaking like a true Queen”, he said with a relieved smile

“Good night, my lord hand”

“Good night my queen”. he said firmly, and you closed the door gently, as a guard was posted at your door

The Very next day, the sweet maids dressed you in one of your mother’s dresses, of when she was young, a reed dress with details of gold and a white collar that made you look truly regal, they fixed your hair and applied a soft powder in your face to even the colors on your skin

They even placed rings in your fingers and a necklace in your neck

Cregan thought a private introduction was better for you, so he ask you break your fast in the gardens, it was getting chilly, but the morning were still beautiful 

As you already had some buttered bread and fruits, Cregan nodded to the man beside them, both appearing  in the garden.

You were a bit startled when Arryk announced them, but smiled as you saw both men approaching

Of course you recognized Cregan, but the man besides him? Gods

He had a… singular… appearance, he was of a dirty blond hair, unruly beard decorated by silver beads, his hair was long thought trimmed in the sides letting you see the skin of his head, the hair that remained, in the center and top of his head was braided backwards by a long braid, he had tattoos in the sides of his skull, he was dressed in blue leather, and furs, high boots. 

He was… peculiar

“My Queen”, said Lord Stark, “may I introduce to you, Lord Reysen Celtigar”, he said, “Son or Bartimos Celtigar, your mother’s master of coins”

“Celtigar?”, you called, impressed

“My beautiful Queen”, he said, dropping to the floor in front of you, “You must not remember me, you were young, but in the years you lived in Dragonstone I visited a few times with my grandsire and father”, he said quickly, “I was, being the second son, send to travel the world, I was not here for the war, sadly…”

“Your house loyalty to mine is clear, my lord”, you said softly, “you should you join me for breakfast”

“You are too kind”, both men sat in front of you

“Lord Celtigar here has traveled far and wide, all over the Seven kingdoms, and even Essos and beyond”, said Cregan softly

“Really?”, you asked

“I shall tell you everything you’d like to know, my sweet Queen”

And Cregan Stark and Reysen Celtigar distracted you from the shadows lurking on the corners of your eyes.

Cregan saw how Reysen shamesly would court you in front of him, how your smile lit up the garden and how you’d giggle like the young women you actually were, this was going to be good for you, have men that are blindly loyal to you, rather by loyalty, or pure desire and love, but loyal in the end.

And that is how the Celtigar was named Master of Laws, he was young, yes, but he had seen things many haven’t yet, he was of Cregan’s age, and his elder brother was the Lord of Claw Island, fiercely loyal to you and your cause.

With a small council made up, people named, only Lord Redwyne was missing.

The Hightowers you hated… wholeheartedly, but you needed to rally the other most important houses of the reach, with the Redwyne and the Tarlys that was possible, assured also

In the coming days and weeks, the castle was brought back to life and filled with people oof all noble houses, the entire city was receiving thousands of lords, ladies and their people

And audiences needed to begin, people were going to swear their allegiance all over the week, they were going to make pleas and requests, and at the end, they were going to watch you being crowned, the location was yet to be disclosed, and Cregan feared you had to make this happen in Harrenhal, were it could held a host this big, but it was too late.

You were going to be crowned at the Throne room

And Cregan could see that your heart was not truly invested, but… today he had the maids dress you and fix your hair in a magnificent way, dressed in black and red and gold, your hair mostly let loose, decorated with golden treads, and a crown made by your own hair half of it braided in magnificent braids

Not a Queen, but you looked like an empress

the epitome of royal power

And the entire seven Kingdoms was going to see you like this. 

He escorted you, alongside your small council, and sat you on the Iron Throne, in front of the room filled with expectant lords and ladies 

“This day, we receive you most lustrous Lords and Ladies from all over the Seven Kingdoms”, presented Cregan, “for you to swear your allegiance to the new Queen and bring an end to the conflict that devastated our lands for two years”, he said out loud, “you stand in the presence of (Y/N) of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm”

“All hail the Queen!”, chanted Arryk, and the room came alive with their chants

“Hail the Queen!”, it made you shake, grabbing tightly onto the throne

Your grandfather was right, this thing was truly uncomfortable 

“The audiences will begin”, presented Cregan Stark

“Allow me, to be the first!”, Cregan and Reysen shared concerned looks when the first one to step forwards, was, indicated by the embroidery on his clothes, a hightower. 

Your stomach dropped, you suddenly wanted to throw up

“Lyonel Hightower, my Queen”, you raised an eyebrow, not impressed with this pompous individual

“Of course”, you looked at Cregan, annoyed, who had decided to invite this clown into court

“This Kingdom had seen enough war”, he said easily, “let’s stop this animosity, let’s bend broken bonds”

“How do you suggest we do that?”, you asked 

“Through a marriage pact”, he said and you chuckled darkly, “let’s join our houses, my Queen”

“Yes, because that really helped my grandfather, did it not?”, you said with poison in your tongue, “worked so good the last time”, but this clown was clearly not reading the room. The throne room was deadly quiet, but he just kept talking

“I will bring this Kingdom back to glory, with all the power of Oldtown”, he just kept talking, “when I marry you, most gracious Queen, we will have the prowess to…”, he kept going on and on, and you only wanted to throw up, that is until… 

You saw her

Right then, hidden amongst other lords and ladies

Her hair was now tainted with gray, his face cut by age and stress, but she was there… dressed in light blue

Alicent hightower

When she met your eyes you saw her flinch, because they reflected what you felt about her…. utter and pure hate.

“...My aunt”, that is when your attention was returned, “the most gracious Dowager Queen is to be placed back in the citadel…”

“The only place she should be placed is deep in the black cells”, you barely whispered, but that sound alone made the entire court, even the pompous bastard, shut up

“My Queen…”, muttered Alicent, taking a step forwards, and everyone remained quiet

“What do you want?”, you asked, visibly shaking with rage

“I’m here to beseech you, to ask you to give me permission to be sent to Old Town…”

“Why?”, you cut her, “so you can plot on how to take the crown from my family again?”

“No…”, she said, shaking a smile, “I only wish to live the remains of my life in peace”, you scoffed

“My Queen, when we marry, our family…”

“I’d rather die alone than marry a HIghtower”, you said loudly, and you heard gasps and snickers alike, “you don’t understand what is going on, so let me enlighten you, you will surrender your entire treasury to the crown”, you said firmly, and the room was silent again as the color dropped from Lyonel’s face, “ten million golden dragons?”, you said

“But my Queen”

“The hightowers are enemies of the crown as it stands right now”, you said, “and the price to be considered members of the Kingdoms again is that one”

“But…”

“You have two children, they will be my cupbearers, squires of court, here, in the Red Keep”, you muttered, and he nodded rapidly, “fail to meet my expectation, fail to jump when I say so, and I’ll make sure that I truly bring back this kingdoms to the glory they deserve because I will burn your High Tower and the Citadel to the ground, the last dragon is mine to command, remember that, a dragon is worth more than gold, and more than a thousand armies…”, the man shakily dropped to the ground on one knee

“Yes my Queen”

“… and you…”, you turned your rage to Alicent now

Cregan watched you from the corner of his eye, fearing the worst, he had advice you to leave her be, chained, but alive, but he was not going to refute you now, in front of the entire court, if you commanded your guard to slay the old Queen, the order had to be carried out, there was no other choice 

You only grabbed onto the throne tightly, trying to reign in your emotions,

“How dare you?”, you asked finally, the eyes of the old Queen snapped open, “I wanted to have you burn with the rest of the traitors, because you were the true orchestrator of the death of my entire family”, you accused, “YOU!”, you said, standing up, “you usurped my mother and threw the entire Kingdom into chaos, but I, decided to spare you, because of my hand’s advice, to ignore you, let you live the rest of your withered life in peace, yet you have the audacity of coming here and demand things of me”, you said fiercely

“No… I didn’t demand I… It wasn’t me!”, she ran over her own words, nervous

“Lord Hightower”, you called, now turning your attention to the old shivering men in front of you, “thanks to the audacity of your aunt, you will pay for her, five hundred thousand gold dragons, or else”, he opened his eyes widely, but lowered his head

“Yes my queen”

“And you, Alicent, it’s clear that we have been very indulgent, you are from now on forbidden to receive any visitors, and you better spend the rest of your miserable life avoiding me, or else I’ll have your head, because I’m sick of looking at it, I see it every night in my worst and darkest nightmares already”

“Y-your grace”, she trembled

“And everytime you see Lord Stark, you better fall to your knees and kiss the floor where he is about to walk, it is because of him you still draw breath, instead of my parents, my brothers, and your children”, you said with disdain

That is what it took for her to break in sobs, one hand trying to drown them, and the other clutching her chest

With only one look and gesture of hand of Lord Stark, two of your three Queensguards grabbed Alicent gently and removed her from the throne room

You took a long breath as Lyonel and all traces of the color green disappeared from the room. ou closed your eyes for a second, took one, two, three long breaths, and you opened them again, you saw your smile council, Cregan nodded at you, giving you his approval 

“So, who is next?”, you asked out loud, and the entire court seemed to take a step back. Except from one, old Lord, who stepped forwards, helped by a cane and the help of a royal guard

“Lord Bewford, of House Blount your grace”, the man introduced himself and you smiled softly, nodding at him and signaling to him to present his troubles, “I gave 500 hundred men to the cause of the righteous Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, is not much, but in that army where my two sons, they are both gone now”, he murmured, “Winter is coming, I need strong young men to help in the fields and around my household”, he said shakily. You nodded

“I will never forget what you sacrifice for our cause, good Lord”, you said, “I will cut off taxes for the coming season, and furthermore…”, the maester gave you a piece of paper, “I have news of the local orphanage, where girls and boys are in need of roof and food, I bet that with willingness, they can help you in exchange for a home”, you said softly, and the old man’s face lit up

“Thank you, your grace!”, he said, trying to kneel 

Cregan smiled widely, and the rest of the Lords and Ladies took that step forwards raising their hands wanting to be greeted by you. 

It was going to be a long day

But you held your ground with patience and grace, that Cregan thought you must have inherited from your grandparents.

Your rage dwindled as your tiredness grew, but the court did not witness more outbursts, your distaste and even hate for the Hightowers and exclusively to them, make the rest of the royal houses relax and bend the knee more easily, picking sides between the Targaryen Queen and the most hated house in the Kingdoms.

Cregan thought you were going to be met with more resistance, but he was surprised to see the ease with which the Lords and Ladies of the house directed themselves at you. He was amazed by how many marriage proposals you received, to which you made deaf ears to, but they were still there. He had a young page to write down the names, for him to study for future prospects. 

And when you offered Lord Redwyne to be your master of ships and he agreed with a laugh in front of the entire court, that sealed the day. 

The Keep was boasting with life, just as he wanted it to be, now that he didn’t met with incredible support of the houses, he had to separate the true loyal, with the ass licking ones.

He stopped the audiences at four hours after noon, to give you rest, and there were more things he needed to do. 

He had to speak to you about which houses you would like to invite to spend the season at court, to make your court.

He was met in the hallways by Arryk

“Have you done it?”, he asked, “have you looked for potential brothers at arms?”

“Oh yeah, my Lord, but we have a small, or rather… a large problem…” 

“What now?”, they both reached the second story balcony to the courtyard, and Cregan stopped in his tracks when he looked down and the courtyard was filled to the last inch with hundreds of men from all ages and sizes, soldiers, knights

“They all want to do the trials to belong to the new Queensguard”, said Arryk with a wide smile, and Cregan laughed

Of course everyone wanted to serve the young new Queen

“Alright, let’s start by sorting them by Kingdom, and if they have real battle experience”, Cregan commanded, with a smile, “have some fun”

“Yes my Lord”, said Arryk, almost laughing

But then, your new appointed small council called to Cregan Stark to an important meeting

When Cregan entered the small council room he felt the uneasiness, the nervousness of all the important men gathered there, and as he walked to the head of the table, all looks were on him

“Gentlemen”, he greeted, if there was something wrong, he wish they would tell him, “Please, let’s not waste any more time, tell me why we are here, why we are meeting without our Queen”, he said hastily, gods, he hated politics

“My Lord Hand”

“Why are we meeting without the Queen?”, he asked severely

“She is our Queen, yes, but she is young, and clearly unstable. The Hightowers decided to take it, yes, but what when they don’t?”, muttered Lord Redwyne 

“So…?”, he asked, “she is right, they are a haunted house, that brought down the House of the Dragon with their schemes, and their ambition”, he said angrily

“Lord Hightower has a point, the Queen will need a husband, we need security of the Line, and also… someone who will… help her…”, muttered Tyland

“Well, I came up with a list, and we present it to her…”, muttered Cregan

“It has to be you Lord Stark”, said the maester, that did took him by surprise

“No…”, he said

“You signed an alliance”, remembered Lord Lannister

“When I signed it, the Queen was still alive, Young Jacaerys, the heir to the Iron Throne was still alive…”, he said gently, “I was supposed to be married to a princess with five brothers, who was supposed to become the Lady of Winterfell, I was not supposed to become King consort of the Seven Kingdoms”, he said severely 

“It has to be you, Lord Stark!”, said Redwyne again

“How about you?”, he asked, looking at his friend, Celtigar, who had remained quiet, “I have a five year old son!”, he said, “alone in Winterfell, with no mother to care for him, I have to go back to him, I can’t abandon him”

“You can come and go as you please, your wife will have a dragon!”, said the Maester

“it can’t be me”, he repeated

“You are the most loyal and trusting, the one everyone will trust as a King consort”, fought Tyland

This is not what he wanted

He had come here because he had promised the Queen, because he wanted to bring justice, and even perhaps vengeance to the realm

But he had signed the pact of ice and fire…

“The North remembers my Lord, your name, is in that treaty”, said the maester, “I saw you sign it”

This is not what he sign up for

I see you very quiet my Lord Celtigar...

Ok so... this was another chapter of them being... accustomed to their roles... next one we will see more of reader's and Cregan's relationship and we will be more personal... we will also see Aegon again, poor thing... again... sorry for the delay

taglist!

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd

@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol

[becauseimswagman1]

Toxic Love

A/N:.... it's been forever since I've posted...I'M BACK WITH THE SMUT GUYS. Don't be afraid to comment either!!!

A/N#2: he got some pretty teeth y'all

This for you @itsbackwoodsbby 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

(She wrote something for me. Gotta get her backkkk)

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

To say that you and your man are a toxic couple is downplaying just how toxic y’all actually are. He cheats and cheats, yet you stay. “Why?” is the million-dollar question. You could say you love him, but you could also say you love the money he makes. See your man is a drug dealer, but not just any ole drug dealer, he’s feared. He’s not to be messed with in any way, so what made you finally get his lying and cheating ass back? The most recent bitch he cheated on you with.

Her name is whor- Hazel. Hazel been tryna get at your man forever. You’re surprised he even fucked that fuck-anything-that-walks, homewrecking ass girl, but niggas will be niggas you guess. You’ve come to realize that they’ll fuck anyone and anything.

Anyways, you got him back by fucking his fine ass, big dick-having-ass cousin. Guess it really does run the family, but the dick was trash and the head was bomb, but if your man asks then all of it was better than him.

You could only imagine how crazy he acted once he found out, but he was almost done with his drops for the day so you’d find out in a minute or two.

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

You hear a car door slam and shortly after the front door slam too, “Ayo what the fuck am I hearing bout you fucking my cousin Dre?!”

You almost laughed, his anger was comical to you. You admit you did act like this when you found out he cheated the first time, but as smart as he is… you figured he would’ve figured everything out by now.

You shrugged at him, “Oh they talking about that already? Damn word get around fast. And don’t be slamming the doors in this house!”

“It’s true? You sit up here living this lavish ass lifestyle and you decide to act like one of yo lil friends and fuck anybody with a pulse.”

Okay, he was doing too much now. It’s not like you slept with half the motherfuckers in his gang unlike someone (Hazel).

You stood up off the couch, “Nah, Trevante fuck you! I don’t know why you tryna make me out to be some type of hoe but that shit not gone fly. Yo black ass acting like I fucked yo brother or something. It was just your cousin so back up off me.”

He walked over to you and got in your face, “Tell me that shit not true. Tell me it’s not so I can go pop the nigga that told me.”

Damn, did he have the grill in today? Top AND bottom too? Mhmmmm.

You stared up into his eyes as innocently as you could while he looked down at you, “Sorry baby, but… it’s true. And it was sooo good, too. He fucked me way better than you.”

God, he’s wearing the cologne that makes you soak your panties in record time.

“Oooooh now he’s better than me? I’ll murk that nigga right now, blood or not. Keep on testing me, ma.”

He’s gonna fuck you up. He’s no longer mad at the get back, but the thoughts of another man fucking you better and that you could possibly leave him because of that haunt him now.

“I’ll be here to wash your clothes when you get back. Just don’t come in here dripping blood and shit. It’ll be a bitch to get out our new carpets.”

Trevante could see how unphased you were about this whole thing and it only pissed him off more. You gave away your pussy and that belonged to him.

He grabbed your neck and got real close to your face, “Say he’s better than me again, and watch what happens to you.”

You smirked, this is exactly what you wanted, “He’s better than you. Maybe this will teach you not to fuck with dirty ass hoes.”

He chuckled, tightening his hold on your neck a little, “So you mad I fucked one of yo lil friends?”

“She’s not-” He cut you off, “Right. She’s not. But you really went out and did what you did as a get back? You put on your big girl panties and took a shot at me? That’s a mistake, baby.”

He pecked your lips then threw you over his shoulder, “You gone regret that shit.”

“Baby-”

“Nah, don’t “baby” me now. You was just talking all that shit, it’s time to put your money where your mouth is.”

Trevante took you to your shared room and sat you down on your feet then grabbed your neck again, making you look at him, “You gonna be good for Daddy?”

“Mhm.” you avoided his heated stare. You knew what he had in store for you was gone have you acting right...for now.

He tightened his grip on your neck, “Words ma, or you not gone get what you deserve.”

“I’ll be daddy’s good gir-” he adjusted your head to look at him in his eyes, “Good what?”

“I’ll be daddy’s good little slut.”

He pecked your lips and let your neck go, “Take your panties off. Ass up, face down.”

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

Taglist: lmk if you wanna be added or taken off

@prettyisasprettydoes1306 @thatone-girly

@blackerthings @roguekiki @enigmadivine

@novaniskye @ziayamikaelson @twocentuar

[chiiyuuvv]

Hiya, can I request Riize and how they act when they like y/n? Ty 🩶

• PAIRING — student!riize x gn reader

• GENRE — crushes, shyness, fluff, and more fluff ♡

• WORD COUNT — 634

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — the way i giggled when i read this. I was already planning a sohee and anton fic where they like the reader (anton inspired by my hc i wrote for xikers, hunters part (when xikers like you)) but after writing this hc, i could literally write any one of the members.. so please request if you want to see a fic based off of this!!

• TAGLIST — @moonlightdarlings

MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!

SHOTARO ☆

If shotaro wasnt smiley then, he sure is now

Love at first sight, his heart beating a million beats per hour, this stupid grin on his face

And since hes extroverted, his is sure to let you know that hes here, wanting to gain your attention

Secretly loves it when someone mistakes you two as a couple because how flirty and touchy he is, but denies it in case it makes you uncomfortable

Hes just so smiley and giggly at whatever you say or do, he tried to hide it at first but theres really no use; hes sure that his like for you is obvious ♡

EUNSEOK ☆

Hes so gentlemen

Opening doors for you, giving you a new pen when you run out of ink, helping you with your homework

And has this cheeky smile whenever you thank or compliment him

Would shoo away the members when hes around you, because he knows they will start teasing him

Tucks some hair behind your ear subconsciously, his breath hitching when he realizes how close you are to him, his eyes going down to your lips ♡

SUNGCHAN ☆

Honestly think hes into the quiet type. Reserved and out of the way, he would find it so intriguing and cute

Wants to get your attention so back, literally changing himself so he could match your interest

And just feels so insecure because what if you think hes doing too much? What if hes too loud?

But all of his thoughts were shut down when he catches you stare at him

"Meet me at the rooftop." You would place the note on his desk as you walk by, your ears red ♡

WONBIN ☆

Despite his cool and handsome persona, he is such a scaredy cat

Has the hugest crush on you but hes too scared to say anything so his members had to push him to you

"G-go get icecream with m-me?" "GREAT, BYE!!" he didnt even give you the chance to speak as he runs away, his members having to fill in for him. Giving you the time, place.. etc.

Arrives 30 minutes early because hes so nervous and fidgety so he tries to calm himself down and practices what he would say to you

But the preparation were pointless when you walk in the little shop, his face getting so red as he thinks you look so pretty. Even if what you're wearing isnt much ♡

SEUNGHAN ☆

Feel like hes not one to hide his feelings

Just "oh, shes pretty cute. I'll ask her on a date."

And he does that with so much confidence, not an ounce of fear in any of his words

And everything was going to according to plan, he'd arrive a few minutes early to make sure everythings okay

But as soon as you sit down, hes a blushing, stuttering mess. His face completely red as he avoids your eye contact. Damn it. - seunghan ♡

SOHEE ☆

The type to daydream about your future together with this goofy smile on his face

Purposely sitting a seat or two behind you, just so he could stare at you

But quickly bats an eye when you make eye contact with him, as hes suddenly invested in his work (he hasnt even written his name yet)

Always holds his breath whenever your near, his palm sweaty

And stutters like crazy when your assigned to work on a project together ♡

ANTON ☆

Shy, shy, shy, shy, shy

Barely says a word whenever your near, also the type to stare at you during class and daydream about each others future

You were a friend of one of his friends, so he was kinda forced to talk to you

And cringes at himself when he says something stupid, but you always find it so cute

Randomly blurts out how pretty you are ♡

[satrs]

ᴅᴀʀᴋ ʜᴏᴜʀꜱ ꨄ︎

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; It seems that vampires are indeed real.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Vampire!Shidou Ryusei x fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.8k Tags; NSFW/DARK CONTENT! MDNI! blood kink. blood. violence. erhmm shidou eating raw meat at one point. clothed grinding. oral(fem!revieving). dumbification(?).

ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ 18+!

It was night time, a nice time with your friend soon turning into a spook story.

"Vampires? Shut your shit. You're not scaring me." You looked at your friend, unimpressed by their spooky stories.

"I'm not kidding Y/N! They're real! Rumor has it that one is strolling right in our town!" Yeah right. What nonsense. Vampires are not real, a creation of fiction, the human imagination. There is no way that they exist. In a shit town like this on top of that.

"Shiver me timbers. Alright, see ya." You waved off, the voice of your friend loud in your ear while their footsteps approached your form. "Y/N! Wait! You shouldn't go alone! What if that vampire-"

"If that Dracula comes across me? I'll just huff my breath at him, he'll sure fall down dead if he gets a whiff of the garlic bread I had earlier." This was a joke, for sure. Or a prank of some sort. Maybe one silly guy decided to prank the town, lifting the boredom there.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

As you strolled through the streets, moon, and lanterns the only light source, you heard rustling behind you. Fear filled you, the thought of a vampire now really not a pleasant thought in your mind, as you quickly glanced back, letting out a relieved sigh when you saw nothing.

You went home as fast as you could, chills filling your whole body. As you reached your doorstep, your demeanor relaxed and you let your guard down. Big mistake.

As you were about to reach for the doorknob, somebody beat you to it, twisting it in a fast motion before pushing you into your home in one swift motion. Your scream never left your mouth as you came to face with the person hovering above you- magenta-like eyes glowing dangerously, his big and sharp fangs visible as he bared his teeth, chest heaving up and down rapidly, seeming to escape a chase.

He seemed to be in pain, brows twisted but a faint smirk plastered on his lips as he looked down at you. One more look at his form and you noticed a big bright red imprint on his shirt. This can't be. it must be some kind of dream or- something. Just please, not what you think it is. Because hell, if this man is what you suspect him to be, you might as well faint right on the spot.

"Fuck that was a close call", he just so muttered to himself, eyes intensely inspecting your face, soon landing on your partly exposed neck. His mouth watered at the sight, a menacing aura surrounding you as he bit down on his tongue to suppress his urges.

That's it, you're going to die. By a fucking vampire. Never in a million years would you have imagined this, you always thought you would die because you're old and fragile but no- life always has some sick and twisted surprises.

You closed your eyes in an attempt to ready yourself for what was about to come but- nothing. Through closed eyes you noticed the shadow above you disappearing and as you opened your eyes, you saw him sloppily stroll over to your couch.

He plopped down, a painful groan escaping his lips. "I'm not gonna bite you but I'm also not trynna die here either. So you better find somethin' for me or you're done."

You realized from the tone of his voice that he wasn't fooling around, quickly standing up on your feet as you paced into the kitchen. You had some meat in the fridge that you wanted to do tomorrow. Maybe that'll do.

You quickly placed it on a plate, bringing it to the stranger in your living room. Now with the lights on you could inspect his face better, his beautiful features almost startling you. "Are you serious?", he said, voice in pain as he inspected the raw meat in front of him.

"I'm not some animal- well, got no place to complain." He shrugged, grabbing the meat into his hand and placing it into his mouth, sucking out any drop of blood he possibly could. He lifted his shirt up while he did this, a big injury being visible as you stepped back, the intense smell of blood and the sight of the injury shocking you.

But to your amazement the injury miraculously closed itself up, only leaving leftover blood on his toned stomach. He sighed in relief, throwing the meat back onto the table, not caring to put it on the plate as he threw his shirt off without a care in the world. You looked at him, astonished by his now changed demeanor, seeming to be completely fine.

"W-what? But-" you silenced yourself as you noticed his eyes back on you, pulling some of the flesh that caught itself on his fangs from them. He mocked you, repeating your words in a high-pitched voice before laughing, hand driving through his blonde-pink hair. "Get me something to clean up yeah? Don't wanna be all dirty next to such a delicious lookin' snack." He grabbed a bottle on the table, gulping down the taste of blood out of his mouth, refreshed sigh escaping his lips.

He laughed again at the sight of your expression. "Just jokin'. Oh, and thanks." You flashed him a nervous smile, unsure of how else to react.

"Are you? You know..." you began carefully, his ears perking up at your words. "Bull's eye." The same teasing smirk was on his face again and you didn't know if your legs were shaking because he is a literal fucking vampire, or because his handsome expression did something to your lower region.

You didn't utter another word, quickly disapearing into the bathroom to prepare a damp towel for your uninvited guest, quickly moving back to him to hand it to him. But he just looked at it with an unbothered expression, confusing you. "Nuh-uh pretty. You do it."

You do it? Is he serious? As you were about to open your mouth and object, he wrapped his hand around your hip, throwing your right onto his lap in one swift motion, leaving you flustered and wide-eyed on top of him.

He motioned his chin to his exposed stomach, looking into your eyes expectingly. You gulped at his action and his well build chest, carefully cleaning off the crimson color, coloring the towel in it.

"C'mon. Don't gotta be so soft.", he retorted, face leaning closer to yours in the process, his whisper tickling your face. "I like it rough." Your heart beat rapidly in your chest trying to create distance between the both of you but he grabbed the back of your neck, gasp erupting from your lungs as your mouth was mere inches from his.

"Why shy away? I don't bite. Only if you want me to." His white and sharp fangs flashed you, fear rising in you as your breathing increased. "You know at first, I was just planin' to have a little snack after those rascals were on my ass. But when I saw you, I just had to change my mind."

You felt a bit bold at his statement, testing the waters. "W-what do you have in mind now?" You were scared at his answer, but excitement also rushed through your veins. Yes, he was a vampire but- damn was he attractive.

It didn't take him long to let you know what he intended to do, smashing his lips against yours, leaving you gasping as you felt his sharp fangs against your plumb lips, quickly moving away from his touch.

He managed to pierce through the skin of your lips, small line of blood dripping from your mouth. He almost went crazy at the sight- your delicious smelling blood dripping down your chin, fear in your eyes. "Shit sorry pretty. My bad." The smirk that decorated his features told you right ahead that he wasn't sorry even in the slightest.

"you smell heavenly. Lemme' get some of it. Please." His voice was desperate, foaming at the mouth as he watched your red-painted lip, almost whining in disappointment as he noticed the bloody rush stopping. You nodded your head in a daze, too scared of what might happen if you wouldn't.

In that moment his lips flew to yours, a heavy groan escaping them as he licked every single drop of red liquid he could catch in his mouth. The way his lips and tongue danced along yours left you dizzy, sighing into the kiss.

"So fuckin' tasty. More, I need more. Please, pretty." The way his hips twitched up into yours as you felt his big bulge through his pants made you succumb to his touch, needily moving your hips against his, the friction of his aching length touching your pulsing clit over and over again. "You can have me."

This was all it took for him to bite your lip again, careful to not be too harsh. This made you moan out in both pleasure and pain, grinding against his pants increasing. "Fuck you like that? So fuckin' dirty." you only whined in return as you felt his hand grope your behind harshly, his hand moving your hips right into his needy thrusts. "Oh fuck."

He then swiftly threw you off of him and onto the couch, animalistic strength tearing your pants and anything under apart in one swift motion. Before you could gasp in shock, a cry of pleasure went past your lips as you felt his tongue swiping over your wet folds, groaning at the taste.

"P-Please be careful-" You still tried to clench onto the small string of sanity left, shaky fingers finding comfort in his soft blond locs. "I know what I'm doin' And I said,'" He snapped, followed by a smack against your thigh, causing you to yelp in surprise. " I only bite if you want me to." His head dived back in between your thighs, slurping up any of your juices he could get, tongue swirling across your folds like a starved man, teeth softly biting your bundle of nerves, twirling it between his fangs for a brief second. "Ain't that right pretty?"

He was displeased by your dazy nod. "I asked you something. Or did you already go dumb on me?" You were quick to reply as you noticed his intense stare under you, magenta-painted eyes staring daggers through you like a wild animal. "n-no! I mean yes! You're right!" You hated how high-pitched your voice sounded, but you simply couldn't contain all the noises he ripped out of you, the feeling of his tongue exploring your needy cunt was just too much.

"Fuck I can't! I'm gonna'-" He looked up to see your face as he drove sound after sound out of you with his tongue alone. He smirked against your heat, hands wrapping around your thighs to keep you from squirming. "You're gonna cum? I got you. C'mon, give it to me."

With one more flick of his tongue, your breath catches in your throat, eyes rolling behind the sockets in euphoria as the tight knot in your stomach snapped, your cries and the sloppy wet sounds of the man slurping up your fluids the only thing filling the room, thighs clenching around his head.

One last lick over your folds caused your legs to twitch in his hold. He came back to view between your thighs, head laying on top of your belly as he flashed your exhausted form a cheeky grin.

„So I did get to eat you tonight anyways.“

a/n; part 2?!? Y‘ALL LIKE THIS OR NAH૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა IDKKK

ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°

[putellas11]

A/N: Secret relationship fic requested by a lovely anon. This fic is inspired by Notting Hill, one of my favorite movies. The beginning is pretty similar to the movie, but later on I pretty much make it my own. Keep in mind that Alexia is like 200x more famous in this fic. Hope you enjoy!

Just a Girl (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Of course, you’ve seen her play and have always thought she was, well, incredible — but despite living in the same city, she’s a million miles from the small world you live in.

Carrer de la Riera Baixa is home to secondhand stores passed down from generation to generation, independent record stores with selections long forgotten, and a bar only sought out by those with something to forget. Tucked in between is your bookstore. Unlike the other stores, there is no storefront or windows to peak through. The only clue of what is sold is engraved on a plate, nailed to the door.

Llibres Rars FOR THOSE WHO SEEK THE PAST

Riera Baixa is gritty but honest, and most importantly, all you have ever known. From your apartment building, it takes exactly 80 steps to reach the shop. It’s a path you can take with your eyes closed if necessary.

And from this path you have not strayed.

Even when your girlfriend of five years asked you to take a detour and build a life together in a new city. The words ‘new’ and ‘different’ sparked feelings in you that greatly contrasted her own. Whereas she felt excitement, you felt fear. All you’ve ever known is Riera Baixa and all you’ve ever looked forward to are those 80 steps. You tried to explain this to her but your words were simply not enough. So, she packed her bags and sought out a new adventure. The morning after she left, you walked those 80 steps again, but it felt like you were walking for miles.

The pain of her leaving subsided with time, but she left a void in your heart you thought would be impossible for anything or anyone to ever fill — or so you thought.

On Saturdays something special happens on Riera Baixa street. The metal doors slide open and the stores spill out onto the streets for residents and tourists alike. The strum of an acoustic guitar fills the air, a beautiful melody mixed with the sound of excited chatter and intense bargains taking place.

Inside the bookshop, you’re hunched over the front desk, staring at numbers on a page that bring you no satisfaction. Your sole employee and close friend, Anna, stands by your side, her hand resting on your shoulder.

“A major sales push and all we have to show for it is 233 euros in profits,” you look at Anna, your voice, defeated.

“I think you need some coffee. You know, to ease the pain a little.”

You let out a deep sigh, “make it a café con leche and a chocolate croissant, please.”

With one small, comforting squeeze on your shoulder, Anna walks out of the bookshop in search of the only thing that can bring you a little bit of happiness.

You remain focused on the page, hoping that if you stare at it long enough the numbers will transform. The bookshop has never been the most profitable business on Riera Baixa street, seemingly always hanging by a thin thread— a very thin thread. And yet, it has remained a staple of the market, making just enough to survive year after year.

The little bell attached to the door rings out in the quiet, taking you out of your thoughts. You glance up casually, expecting to see just another customer with an unfamiliar face.

It’s like the air is sucked out of the room.

Despite the black cap and sunglasses, there’s no mistaking her. No matter where you are in the city, you see her. Her face is plastered on every newspaper, her name a constant sound on the radio, the city walls decorated with murals of her.

It’s Alexia Putellas, the greatest football player in the world, the pride and joy of Barcelona — here — in your store. She is the inspiration of many and the example of hard work and dedication. But also, the most heavenly, generous, beautiful woman on earth.

“Need some help?” you ask, the words almost getting stuck in your throat.

Alexia glances up from the book held gingerly in her hands, “No, thank you. Just looking around.”

“Ok.”

You feign interest in the scattered pieces of paper on the desk, flipping through the pages with no purpose.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Alexia wander from shelf to shelf, fingertips brushing against the spine of the books that intrigue her. Something does indeed catch her eye because she stops and picks out a book from the shelf. It’s a book you instantly recognize, even from a distance.

“Good choice, but uh, just a little bit depressing” you dare to say, hoping she won’t mind the interruption too much.

Alexia makes no effort to look in your direction, her attention on the cover of the book. “What’s it about?” she asks.

“Oh — well, long story short, all the main character knows is tragedy so to protect herself, she doesn’t let anyone get close. She thinks she’ll just inevitably lose them.”

“I see.” Alexia appears to give the novel some more thought but, in the end, decides to heed your warning and returns the book to its proper place.

Alexia continues her search — for what, you do not know. But whatever it is, you want to help her find it.

Eventually she plucks out another book, but this time doesn’t bother to look at the cover. Instead, she brings it up to your view, “and this one?”

“That one has too many men with insufferable egos.”

Alexia hides her smile behind the book, “not my thing,” she says, and puts it right back.

You lose sight of her when she wanders to the back of the shop, daring to explore the mess of books stacked up from floor to ceiling. Very rarely do customers visit that section and that only makes her far more intriguing.

After a few minutes, Alexia returns to the front of the shop with a book held delicately in her hands. “I think I found the one,” she says, resting the book on the desk.

Taking a peek at the cover, a smile tugs on your lips. “It’s one of my favorites, actually.”

Alexia tilts her head slightly to the side, removing her sunglasses and finally allowing you to see her eyes.

You wonder if she can tell your heart skipped a beat or two.

“If it’s your favorite, why do you have it all the way in the back?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” you pause for a moment to think, “I guess some novels are best stumbled upon y’know… found at just the right moment by the right person.”

“Am I the right person?”

“Definitely.”

Alexia looks at you with a slight smile and just like that, whatever worries you had before she walked in are no more. When you complete the transaction and hand her the bag, her fingers brush against your own for a brief, but electrifying second.

“Have a good day,” she says, bringing up the sunglasses to cover her eyes once again, much to your disappointment.

“Yeah… you too,” is all you can say, but the voice in your head is begging for her to stay.

Alexia opens the door to leave but hesitates, “I didn’t catch your name,” she says.

“Oh, it’s Y/N,” you manage to say, for a brief second forgetting your own name.

Alexia silently mouths your name and offers you a smile that warms your entire body. With that, she steps out onto the street and disappears from your view.

Once again, a quiet takes over the shop. You’re left in a daze, having to pinch yourself to prove that it was all real— that she was real.

Anna returns just a few minutes later with two cups in her hand and a flustered look on her face. “Café con leche as ordered,” she says, shuffling the papers out of the way and resting the hot, steaming cup of coffee on the front desk.

“You won’t believe who was just here,” you say, still in a state of disbelief.

“Alexia Putellas?”

You take a step back, shocked that she was able to guess so quickly. “Yes! Wait, did you see her when she walked out?”

Anna appears to be just as surprised as you, “hold on, I was right? That was a total guess, oh my god!” she exclaims, looking back at the door, hoping Alexia would just walk right back in. “But no, I saw her on the front page of a newspaper when I was at the pastry shop. That’s why she was my first guess.”

“It was a damn good guess.” You reach for the cup but go still when you realize something is missing, “no chocolate croissants today?”

“Oh shit!” she taps her forehead with her palm, “the new girl, Emma, was flirting with me again, and well, you know how I get,” she says, her cheeks red with a blush.

You let out a little snort, shaking your head. “Perfectly reasonable explanation,” you say, “I’ll go get it. I think some fresh air will do me good.”

Just as you’re about to step out onto the street, Anna calls out to you. “Wait! You mind getting me an orange juice? I meant to get one but-“

You give her a knowing look, “you looked into Emma’s beautiful eyes and forgot?”

“Yep!”

It’s usually a short walk to the pastry shop, but on Saturdays it takes a little longer with the crowd that gathers in search of antiques and other goods.

Emma smiles when you walk in and asks you about Anna to which you reply, “back at the shop, a flustered mess.”

While Emma works on your order, you can’t help but glance at the newspapers on display. Alexia’s face is on the cover of about half of them, and the headlines all attack her in one way or the other.

Alexia Putellas A Shell of Her Former Self, reads one of the headlines.

Another cover has Alexia crying on the pitch, her hands over her face and with the headline, Will Putellas Miss Again?

Ever since Alexia missed a penalty in last years Champions League final penalty shootout, the press have developed an obsession for attacking her. Only a few months prior to the final they were singing her praises, but as it turns out, highlighting her misfortunes brings in a whole lot more money and attention.

With a cup of orange juice, chocolate croissant, and some napkins in your hands, you swing out of the pastry shop with very little care. You’re about to turn a corner when you bump into-

“Alexia!” a rising panic in your voice.

“Shh!” she looks around to see if anybody heard, orange juice dripping from her shirt down onto the street.

“I’m so sorry! Here, let me help.” Without much of a thought, you attempt to pat dry her shirt but get a little too near to her breasts for someone Alexia just met.

“What are you doing?!”

You jump back, flustered, and so utterly embarrassed. “Sorry… again. Um, listen I live just right over there, please, you could get cleaned up and be good to go. I’d hate to ruin your day,” you pause, letting out an awkward chuckle, “If I haven’t already.”

The sunglasses shield her eyes, but you don’t need to see them to tell she’s annoyed. “Fine. But what do you mean, just right over there?”

You point in the direction of your apartment, “literally right over there, it's the one with the red curtains.”

Alexia looks down at her shirt, soaked and stained with orange juice. With a sigh, she nods and accepts your offer. __

Your apartment is an extension of the bookstore. Books everywhere and on everything; some closed, and some left open to your favorite passages.

“Something tells me you like to read,” she says, a hint of teasing in her words.

You give her a nervous smile, “just a little.”

Alexia takes off her sunglasses and places them on the nearest table alongside her bags. “It’s a good thing I decided to buy this top after all,” she says, taking out a black crop top, “Bathroom?”

“Right over there,” you reply, pointing to the bathroom door at the end of the hallway.

With Alexia out of sight, you take in a deep breath in hopes it will calm your nerves but it’s hard to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Saturdays are usually pretty eventful, but this is something else entirely. It’s not the fact that’s she’s incredibly famous that has you feeling like this. While it’s true that there’s no lack of beautiful women in Barcelona, none have ever made your heart explode in your chest and your soul stand still in awe with just one look.

Alexia steps out of the bathroom and there goes your heart again, picking up its pace. The top rides up her stomach just enough for you to see the carved rigids of her abs, and tight enough for you tell she’s not wearing a bra.

It’s so incredibly obvious that you’re staring, but the sparkle in her eyes hints that she doesn’t mind.

“Cup of coffee before you go?” you ask, forcing yourself to maintain eye-contact.

“No, thank you.”

“Tea?”

Alexia tugs on her bottom lip for a moment then shakes her head, “no.”

“How about a croissant? Best in all of Barcelona.”

Her lips twitch in an effort to fight her smile, “really, no.”

“Will I always get a no from you?”

There’s a pause.

“No,” she says and gives you a look that means something, but you just don’t know what.

“I should go,” she says, “I want to say thank you for all your help, but you are the one that spilled orange juice all over me so…”

You look down at your feet, trying to muster up a little bit of courage, “Before you go… I realize I might never get another chance to tell you this, considering I’ve done nothing but make a fool of myself today but,” you meet her eyes, “you’ll forget all about me the second you step out of that door, but… I fear you’ll never leave my mind.”

She smiles, and you realize that’s all you’ll get in return.

“Right, well…,” you guide her towards the front door, “it was nice to meet you, Alexia.”

With a nod, she steps out of the apartment and you close the door behind her. Leaning against it, you tap your forehead again, and again on the door in embarrassment. “That literally couldn’t have gone worse,” you say with a heavy sigh.

You turn away from the door but suddenly, you hear a knock. You expect it to be Anna, tracking you down since you never made it back to the shop. But when you open the door, you see Alexia.

“Hi,” she says, “Sorry, I forgot my bags.”

You look back and see her bags still on the table where she left them, “oh, right. I’ll get them for you.”

When you return to the door with her bags in your hand, you notice Alexia has taken two steps inside the apartment. You go to hand her the bags but surprisingly, she doesn’t make a move a muscle to take them from you.

You’re confused, but in her eyes, you only see certainty.

That’s when she kisses you, without any warning but without haste, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for her. It’s a gentle kiss, without passion but with a tenderness that has you feeling like you’re floating in the clouds.

Alexia pulls away and it takes a few seconds for you to open your eyes. You have so many questions, but it seems you’ve lost the ability to speak. In silence, Alexia reaches for the bags still in your hands and with one last look, walks out once again.

This time, however, she leaves you with a little hope in your heart that one day, maybe she’ll return.

___________________

“So let me get this straight,” Anna says, pacing back and forth on the balcony of your apartment, “five-time Balon D’or winner, Alexia Putellas, kissed you?”

“That is correct.” You don’t blame Anna for having trouble believing your encounter with Alexia. Hell, it’s hard for you to believe and you lived it.

“And she just walked out? Didn’t say anything, just kissed you and went on her merry way?”

That part of it all was also difficult for you to wrap your head around. “Kissed me and walked right out,” you reply, looking down at everyone going about their lives on Riera Baixa street, “I swear I’ve never been so confused in my life.”

Anna plops down on the chair next to you and lifts her legs up to rest on the railing, “No wonder you were acting so weird when you got back to the shop. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t pass out — God knows I would have.”

“Well, I stood there like an idiot for like fifteen minutes after she left so… close enough.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, just trying to make sense out of something that makes absolutely no sense at all. The memory of the kiss is permanently engraved in your memory. No matter what you do to try and distract yourself from it, it’s impossible to not relive it in your mind.

“So what are you gonna do now?” Anna finally asks.

All you can do is shrug, “what can I do?” You’ve been asking yourself that very same question and have yet to come up with an answer. “She’s famous, Annie, it��s not like I can track her down or something. Let’s say I do somehow manage to get in contact with her, would she even want to talk to me? I mean, yes, she did kiss me but she also just walked out and left me standing there. I honestly don’t kno—”

“Oh my god!” Anna jumps out of the chair with her phone in her hands.

Her sudden outburst startles you, “what!?”

Anna starts gesturing wildly at the phone, “Alexia just followed the bookshop on Instagram!”

You jump out of your chair, just like Anna, and take the phone from her hands.

Alexia Putellas has followed you

“This is huge,” Anna says, peering over your shoulder at the screen, “not only for your love life but for the store too.”

Business is the last thing on your mind. The realization that Alexia hasn’t forgotten all about you has your head spinning, so much so that you need to sit back down. You’re staring at the notification with your heart ready to explode out of your chest, but then you get another one and this time, it’s a message.

Alexia: sorry couldn’t find you by your name 🙄 Alexia: it’s a little late notice but we have a game tomorrow. Can you make it? Alexia: I want to see you again

Each message sends you further into a state of panic, your hands trembling. All of the sudden everything feels really real. Your kiss with Alexia felt so surreal that you could almost trick yourself into believing it was all a figment of your imagination. But now, reality has smacked you right across the face and you’re terrified.

“You ok? You’re white as a ghost,” Anna says, reaching for your trembling hands.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you say to her, feeling a pressure in your chest, “she’s Alexia Putellas, Anna. She’s all people talk about in this city and everyone wants to know everything about her. Remember her last relationship?”

Anna nods, a slight grimace on her face. “Yeah, the press wouldn’t leave them alone. I’ll admit, it was all a little extreme.”

Just the idea of being followed around everywhere you go by strangers with flashing cameras has you paralyzed with fear. You’re a creature of habit, finding comfort in routine and happiness in an ordinary life. Alexia’s life is anything but ordinary and you fear you’ll sink rather than float in her presence.

“I can’t do this,” you say, giving the phone back to Anna and running your fingers through your hair feeling overwhelmed. “We’re from two different worlds.”

Anna knows you better than anyone else and was there by your side, helping you pick up the broken pieces of your heart. Like you, she lives in her own little world on Riera Baixa street and has never desired a change of scenery or change of pace.

“Are you going to reply?” Anna asks you, softly.

You take a shuddering breath, your eyes starting to tear up. “It’s better that I don’t. Besides, she’ll forget all about me soon enough,” you say with a self-deprecating laugh, wiping away the single tear running down your cheek.

Anna gives your hand a little squeeze. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” she says, but knows better than to push the subject.

___________________

It’s the end of yet another slow day at the bookstore which only makes it all that more difficult to keep your mind off Alexia. Anytime the bell rings announcing a new customer your heart drops at the small possibility of it being her. But it’s never her and as much as you hate to admit it, you feel disappointed each time.

The bell rings and you look up to find a man with a rather bored look on his face.

“Welcome,” you greet him, “can I help you?”

The man stops a few feet away from you and looks around slowly, “do you have any travel books?”

“Uh,” you look around the store, the answer very clear to you, “no, sorry, we only sell novels.”

The man doesn’t seem satisfied by your answer. “Rick Stevens?”

You try to recall the name of the author, but nothing comes to mind. “I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with his work. Do you know the name of the novel?”

“Best of Europe Guidebook.”

Fighting the urge to scream, you give the man a tight smile. “That’s a travel book. We only sell novels, sir.”

“What about Fodor’s Essential Europe?”

You take a glance at the clock and breathe a sigh of relief when you see its almost closing time. “Nope, don’t have that either,” you say, stepping away from the counter and towards the door, “unfortunately it’s time for us to close. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you find what you need.”

The man takes an unbearably long time to walk out of the door and you try to hide your eagerness when you close the door behind him.

“Why is Anna never here to deal with the weird customers,” you mumble to yourself.

Shrugging off the annoyance, you start to pack up your belongings to head on home.

But once again, the bell rings and that same annoyance starts to creep up again, “We don’t sell travel books,” you say without even bothering to turn back and see who walked in.

“That’s good to know,” says a very familiar voice.

Your body goes still, a chill running down your spine. It’s the very same voice that’s been haunting your dreams for days. With your eyes closed, you take one deep breath before turning around and finally facing her.

“Alexia.”

Same as the first time she walked in, a black cap and sunglasses conceal her identity. When she takes off her sunglasses, a part of you wishes she would have kept them on. Her eyes pierce through you, making you feel weak in the knees.

“You left me on read,” Alexia says, taking a step closer to you.

“I did,” you say, taking a step back.

“Why?” She says, now a little bit closer.

You go to take another step but feel your back against the bookshelf. “I just don’t belong in your world, that’s all.” You want to be firm with your words, but your voice falters.

Now within arm’s reach, Alexia shakes her head. “You don’t know my world,” she says.

When you don’t answer, she closes the little bit of distance remaining between your two bodies. Your skin ignites when she brushes a finger along your cheek, your eyes flutter as you instinctively lean into her touch.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” her voice is quiet, almost a whisper against your ear. Alexia slides her hands down to your hips, her grip firm but gentle: making it clear she has no intention of letting you go.

Your pulse beats loudly in your ears, her scent invading your lungs and clouding your mind. Nothing good can came of this, you know it, and yet you’re incapable of pushing her away. Your eyes flick down to her lips, just for a quick second, but it’s all the confirmation Alexia needs.

She bows her head down warily, watching your reaction, almost as she’s scared you’re going to run away any second. She tests you by brushing her lips against yours, a jolt of electricity running between you. Her tongue runs across your bottom lip and you can’t take it anymore.

“Kiss me.”

And Alexia doesn’t hesitate. The kiss starts slow — deep but hesitant. Your hands trembling lightly as you reach up to cup her cheeks. Eventually, the whole world disappears and all you’re left with is the feeling of her lips.

___________________

You give in to temptation and agree to keep seeing Alexia in secret. After every game, she finds her way to your apartment, sneaking away from the press that wait for her outside of Camp Nou. The only one who knows of your relationship is Anna and you’ve sworn her to secrecy.

It turns out that what exists between the two of you is far deeper than just a physical attraction. More than just lust. There is a certain kind of comfort and peace you feel when she holds you in her arms. You’re certain Alexia feels the same way as you see the way her shoulders relax when she steps inside your apartment, and the sadness in her eyes when she has to sneak away in the morning.

You’ve also picked up on the ease with which Alexia has settled into your apartment. Her favorite Barça sweatshirt has found a home in the top left drawer of your dresser. Her toothbrush now keeps yours company in the bathroom. And every morning, without fail, she asks you to stop by the pastry shop for a coffee and chocolate croissants that, according to Alexia, are indeed the best in all of Barcelona.

Having been given a few days off to rest, you have the rare privilege of spending all day together. So, of course, the two of you decide to waste an entire day in bed.

There’s a full-length mirror in the corner of your bedroom. In its reflection, you see two bodies tangled up in messy white sheets, legs intertwined, Alexia’s fingers lightly grazing against your bare back. Goosebumps form on your skin and you don’t know if it’s from her touch or the cool breeze that’s coming through the balcony sliding door.

You turn around to face Alexia. Her hair is tousled; a small smile on her face, thoughts hidden behind her eyes.

“Everything ok?” you ask softly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.

Alexia supports her head with her hand, looking at you with tenderness. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” she says, “I haven’t felt like myself in a long time.”

Little by little, Alexia has clued you in on her life as a professional athlete and all the pros and cons that come with it. At first it was a dream come true to be recognized as the best, but through the years, that title has become more of a burden than anything else.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

The media demands Alexia to secure the Champions League trophy in order to be deemed worthy of yet another Ballon D’or. They demand a player who can show up in important games: a player who can make that crucial penalty in a final. All her previous accomplishments be damned. All they remember is that penalty.

“You know I forgot my bags on purpose,” she says, tugging on the sheets draped over your body.

“What do you mean?”

Alexia let’s out a little chuckle at the memory that’s replying in her mind, “the day we first met” she says, “remember, you were rambling about how you would never forget me...”

You tug the sheets up to hide your face, a warmth on your cheeks.

“I thought it was so cute,” she says, sneaking her hand underneath the sheets to rest on your stomach, “I knew I had to get the bags before leaving but I decided to leave them behind.”

You peer out from under the sheets, “how come?”

“I wanted an excuse to come back and see you. I thought I’d let a few days go by but I don’t know, I wanted to kiss you so bad and just I couldn’t wait.”

Her confession comes to a surprise as you have always believed you made a complete, total fool of yourself that day.

“Hm, well I do have that effect on people,” you tease.

Alexia rolls her eyes and throws the sheet over the two of you. Underneath the covers, you share lingering kisses, giggles, and promises of forever.

___________________

You watched it happen live from the bookstore.

The game was tied and there was no sign of either team conceding a goal in the final minutes. But with only three minutes left in the game, Aitana was fouled inside the box and the referee immediately blew her whistle.

Penalty.

You were certain Alexia would be the one to take it and for that reason, you were on edge. Despite putting on a great performance all game, if Alexia missed the penalty, that’s all people would talk about. You knew that and most importantly, so did Alexia.

Everyone at the stadium, including you all the way at the bookstore, held their breath. You watched Alexia very carefully as she stood there, staring down the goalkeeper. What you saw sparked in you concern. There was an undeniable confidence in her posture, but in her eyes, you noticed something else entirely.

Your hands covered your face, but through the gaps, you watched the ball fly up and over the crossbar.

Alexia missed the penalty and the first leg of the champions league semifinal ended in a draw. While not the worst result, you had no doubt the media would attack her mercilessly for failing to secure the win.

Which is why you’re waiting for her at the bookshop, like you always do after a game— no matter the result. Right now, your number one priority is being there for her and to silence all the negative thoughts that are undoubtedly running through her mind.

Every tick of the clock feels like an eternity but the door does eventually open. The second Alexia’s eyes lock on you, her lips start to quiver. “I missed,” she manages to say before covering her mouth with her hands, shoulders shaking as she fights the sobs building in her chest.

You run and take her in your arms. “Oh, baby…” you say, tears welling up in your own eyes.

Alexia hugs you so fiercely, as if afraid you’ll disappear. All the disappointment, frustration, and pain rush out of her as she sobs in your arms. All you can do is stroke her back, whisper words of affection in her ear, and simply hold her in hopes that will be enough to ease a little of her pain.

But it’s hard to fight the pain when it shows up at the front door.

Strangers with flashing cameras overwhelm the entrance of the bookshop, shouting and begging for a glimpse of Alexia.

Hearing the disturbance outside, Alexia looks up from your shoulder with tear-stained cheeks. “Mierda,” she mumbles, “I rushed to get here and they must have followed me.”

Fear begins to creep on you but you try your best to hide it from her. This is exactly what you feared: your world being invaded by the press. Now that they know you and Alexia have some sort of connection, they won’t stop until they get to the bottom of it. In just one night, your little world is not so little anymore.

“It’s ok,” you assure her, running your fingers through her hair. “But we can’t stay here all night. When you’re ready, we’ll walk out and make a run for the apartment.”

Alexia, not wanting to face the press in her current state, takes a few minutes to gather her composure. She wipes the tears from her cheeks and takes a few good, deep breaths. It’s a ritual you imagine she’s had to do on more than one occasion, and it makes you hate those who are waiting outside with even more of a passion.

Hand in hand, you share one last look before walking out of the bookshop.

Nothing could have prepared you for this. All at once they all scream their questions at you and Alexia, forcing their cameras and microphones directly in front of your faces. They take no mercy despite your obvious fear and discomfort. The only one who notices is Alexia, who tightens her grip on your hand and forces her way through the crowd of reporters.

“Alexia is this your girlfriend!?” asks one of the reporters, following closely.

You put your head down, trying your best to hide your face from the cameras. Your silence does nothing to deter their never-ending onslaught of questions. All their voices mix into one, but your ears manage to catch some of the questions thrown at Alexia, and each one makes you rage more than the last.

“Do you deserve to win the Balon D’or!?”

“Why are you still taking the penalties!?”

“Alexia, how does it feel to let the team down again!?”

Little by little, the two of you manage to navigate through the crowded Riera Baixa street and make it to the front door of your apartment building. With a hand on your back, Alexia helps you get inside first as the reporters grow more and more aggressive. With force, Alexia closes the door behind her.

You can still hear their muffled voices coming from outside, but with the reporters now out of sight, you allow yourself to let out a sigh of relief. Feeling overwhelmed, you lean your back against the wall and slide down to the floor. Alexia kneels next to you and wraps her arms around you. It seems like it’s now her turn to comfort you.

“I’m so sorry, mi amor,” she whispers, softly kissing your temple, “it won’t always be like this, I promise.” Alexia tries her best to comfort you with her words, but you fear nothing will relieve the pressure you feel in your chest.

By some miracle, Alexia manages to fall asleep despite everything that happened, but you suspect it might have something to do with playing a full 90 minutes of intense professional football. You on the other hand, are still awake. The thoughts running through your mind make it difficult for you to find rest. That, and all the reporters still camped outside your front door. Some have given up and left, but others seem to be more persistent.

Glancing at Alexia, you feel a tug in your heart. The time you have spent together has been nothing but magical. Her presence in your life has reintroduced love and hope to a heart that feared it would never feel those things again. But, despite making you the happiest you’ve been in a very, very long time, you fear she might have also introduced you to something you never sought to experience.

Fame.

___________________

You haven’t been able to step a foot inside the bookshop in days. Every time you dare to step out of your apartment, reporters jump out of their hiding spots and hound you with questions about Alexia, and about your relationship with her.

Even though you have not spoken a single word to them, the press somehow managed to find out everything about you. Alexia has warned you not to go on social media for a little while, at least until everything calms down a little. You should have listened to her because it would have saved you a lot of stress and discomfort.

There are hundreds of articles written about you, diving deep into your personal and professional life. Some are even dedicated to comparing you to all of Alexia’s ex-girlfriends to see where you rank next to them. The article that affected you the most was the one that exposed your long-term relationship with your ex, and questioned if you ended it in pursuit of Alexia and her fame.

So many lies written about you and you feel powerless to them all.

You’re at the kitchen table, wrapped in a blanket with a newspaper in your hands when Alexia walks in. Interested in what you’re reading, she makes her way to you and sighs when she reads the headline.

All You Need to Know about Alexia Putellas’s New Love

“I told you to not read these things,” she says, taking the newspaper from your hands and throwing it to the side.

You don’t put up much of a fight since you already read the article a hundred times. “I know, baby, but I can’t help it,” you argue, “one day nobody knows my name and the next they know everything about me.”

Alexia sits down at the seat next to you and reaches for your hand, “I understand, mi amor” she says, her thumb caressing your knuckles. “But I promise things will get better. They’ll get bored eventually and move on to the next thing. We just need to give it a little time.”

Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you have to suppress the little bit of frustration you feel at her words. You want to go outside and point at all the reporters still there and ask her if things will truly, ever get better. But you don’t. You don’t because you know Alexia is not to blamed for any of this as she is just as much of a victim as you are.

“How was training,” you ask, trying to shift your focus to literally anything else.

Alexia lets go of your hand and runs her fingers through her hair in frustration. “Horrendous,” she says.

After her penalty miss, Alexia has been all over the place. She has no trouble falling asleep but has struggled to sleep through the night. You’ve lost count of how many times she wakes up through the night, gasping for air, her hand on her beating heart.

Every night in her dreams, Alexia steps up to take an important penalty and she misses. Every time.

“Jona tells me I’m playing with too many voices in my head,” she says, “that I should stop listening to what the media is saying about me and just play my game.”

“Kind of like how you tell me to stop reading these articles,” you counter, glancing at the newspaper Alexia threw to the side, “but we both know it’s easier said than done.”

Realizing that the both of you needed to take some time and relax, you asked Alexia to join you for a bath and she agreed without much convincing needed. When all the voices get too loud and the words printed on the pages hurt a little too much, the two of you find in each other arms a peace and quiet you so desperately need.

In the bathtub, Alexia is lying back, using your chest as a pillow. Lulled by the warmth of the water and the comfort of each other’s bodies, neither of you have said much.

“One day it will be just you and me,” she says softly, breaking the silence, “no reporters following us around, no more articles. Just you and me.”

You tighten your hold on her just a little bit and lean down to leave a kiss on her shoulder. “One day,” you reply, but your words are not said with the same amount of confidence.

Alexia gives you no indication that she picked up on the uncertainty in your voice, but she also doesn’t say anything else.

___________________

“I think it’s safe for me to go out.”

Alexia joins you by the window and takes a peek. When she doesn’t see any reporters, she smiles. “Chocolate croissants?”

“Coming right up,” you say, a little surprised to actually hear some excitement in your voice.

For the first time in what seems like forever, you dare to step out onto Riera Baixa street. The reporters camped outside your apartment appear to have taken a break and therefore, have allowed you to try and go back to your normal life. Things are different, however. Before you walked the street with no care in the world, now, you have to walk with caution and always be on the alert.

When you walk inside the pastry shop, however, you’re reminded that your life is anything but normal. Emma is working today and you hear her voice call out to you, but you can’t make our her words though the white noise and the muffled sound of your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

Your trembling hands reach for the newspaper and you read the headline to yourself.

“Dating a Football Player is Good for Business.”

The article goes into depth about the bookstore and its financials. How they managed to get this information, you don’t know. The article reveals that the bookshop barely makes a profit and clearly implies that you’re using Alexia to bring attention to the store. Their evidence? The insane number of followers the store has gotten since your relationship with Alexia was made public.

Crumbling the newspaper in your hands, you walk out of the pastry shop without even bothering to pay for it. While there are no reporters around, the familiar faces of Riera Baixa all give you a second glance and some don’t bother to lower their voices as they gossip.

“Maybe that girlfriend of hers will visit our shop and get us some attention,” someone says and it takes everything in you not to turn around and give them a piece of your mind.

The first thing Alexia notices when you walk inside is that there are no chocolate croissants in your hands. Then the newspaper and the look on your face. “What happened?” she asks, concern in her voice.

Without a word, you drop the crumbled newspaper on the kitchen table and then walk to the sofa, where you sit down with your knees tucked close to your chest.

Just like you, Alexia sees red when she reads the article. Instead of crumbling the newspaper, she shreds it to pieces with her hands.

Alexia joins you on the sofa, her hand reaches out to comfort you but you pull back from her touch. It breaks your heart to do so, but you’re just not sure you can keep going on living like this. No longer do you feel safe in your home. The street that you have grown up in and have dedicated your life to, no longer seems to welcome you. Everything you once held dear has turned its back on you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you say, feeling that familiar lump forming in the back of your throat. “This is all too much for me, Ale,” Your words are directed at her, but you don’t have the strength to look her in the eye. “You make me so happy; you really do. But I can’t take another day of lies being written about me. Tired of not being able to work… of not being able to live.”

Alexia tries to reach out to you again but hesitates, “baby, please, look at me.”

The look in her eyes shatters your heart into a million little pieces. Alexia knows you have reached your breaking point and that means she’s on the verge of losing you — if she hasn’t lost you already.

“What they said about you is horrible, but mi amor, I know the truth. We know the truth and that’s all that matters.”

You shake your head slowly, “but it’s not enough.”

Alexia leans back, visibly hurt by your words. The realization that she has indeed lost you washes over her, and you force yourself to look away once again. Alexia doesn’t say anything else and gets up to walk to your bedroom.

From the sofa, you hear her open the drawers and pack up her belongings. You fight the tears for as long as you can, but it’s a fight you never had a chance at winning.

Her footsteps draw closer and then stop in front of you. Still, you can’t look her in the eyes.

“You pushed me away once and I came back for you,” she says, “if you let me walk out this door, don’t expect me to come back again.”

When you don’t say anything in return, she looks down and nods. “If you focus on the media and their lies, you’ll never see the truth. And the truth is that at the end of the day,” she sighs, her voice soft, “I’m just a girl, standing in front of another girl, asking you to love her. That’s all.”

With that said, Alexia slings the duffel bag over her shoulder and makes her way to the front door. She doesn’t open it right away, like she’s hoping you’ll stop her.

But you don’t.

You let her walk out of your life.

___________________

“Do you think I made the right decision?”

Anna takes a moment to think, having just been told about your breakup with Alexia. “Um, well,” she says, tilting her head to the side, “yeah… I mean, all the reporters and all that ugly stuff written about you, it had to stop, right?”

You nod your head, relieved your friend understands why you had to make such a difficult and heartbreaking decision. “It was never going to end,” you say with a sigh, finding a little happiness again in restocking the shelves with the new books that arrived while you were locked away in your apartment.

Anna hums in agreement, but you fail to notice the hint of doubt in her eyes. Behind your back, she pulls out her phone and sends a quick text to someone.

A little while later the bell announces a new visitor, and you don’t have to turn around to know who it is. The smell of coffee and of fresh baked pastries are big hints, but it’s the goofy smile on Anna’s face that confirms your suspicions.

Anna’s crush, Emma, walks to the desk with coffee and a bag with croissants in her hands. “I was told there was an emergency,” she says, a teasing smile on her lips.

You appreciate their effort to make you feel better, but they just doesn’t know that chocolate croissants will forever remind you of Alexia.

“Our girl is feeling a little down, that’s all,” Anna says, walking over to Emma and giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

Emma gives you a little pout, “did something happen?” she asks with genuine concern.

Taking a deep breath, you walk towards the counter and take the cup of coffee in your hand, feeling the warmth radiating from the cup. “I ended things with Alexia,” you tell her, taking a sip of the coffee.

Anna and Emma exchange a look, a conversation taking place between them with just their eyes.

“Bad breakup?” Emma asks but seems to immediately regret it, “sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”

“No, it’s alright,” you tell her, leaning against the very same bookshelf Alexia kissed you against that night. “I just told her I couldn’t take it anymore. You know, all the attention that comes with being with her.”

“How did she react?” Emma asks.

Your chest rises and falls with a deep sigh, “she packed her bag with what she had in my apartment and left.”

You’re about to take another sip when you remember what Alexia said before leaving, “she wanted me to know that if I just focused on the reporters and all that craziness, that I would fail to see that she was just a girl, standing in front of another girl… asking me to love her.”

Anna stops mid-bite into her croissant and looks at you with her eyes wide open, “You didn’t tell me that part.”

You look back and forth between Anna and Emma and quickly, very quickly, realize you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” you ask despite already knowing the answer.

They nod in unison.

With your coffee back on the desk, you start to pace the room with your hair in your hands. “How could I have been so stupid!?”

Once again, you allowed your fear of change to control your life. For so long you’ve lied to yourself, thinking that letting your ex walk away was ultimately for the best. But at the end of the day, all she wanted was a change of scenery. There was no doubt in her mind that the love you shared would flourish anywhere. And yet, you pushed her away. You tricked yourself into believing you were the victim but really, you were the one to break her heart. And now, you have made the same mistake with Alexia.

While you’re lost in your thoughts, Anna and Emma have their faces buried in their phones.

“Chicas, what do I do!?” you ask them, fearing that you just might be too late.

“We’re checking Twitter,” Anna says, scrolling through the app with a serious determination.

Emma looks up from the phone, “the team bus hasn’t left yet for the airport,” she announces, “it’s a little dramatic and will bring you more attention than you probably want, but I think desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“I don’t care about causing a scene,” you tell her, surprised by how confident you sound, “I’ll deal with the cameras. I just want her back.”

Anna and Emma both nod and spring to action.

“I’ll get the keys. Em, take her to the car,” Anna says, running to the backroom to get the car keys.

The three of you jump in Anna’s car with only one goal in mind: get to Alexia before it’s too late. It’s important you get to her before she leaves because one, you need to apologize for pushing her away. And two, you need to calm the thoughts that are more than likely driving her crazy.

“Buckle in everyone, today feels like a great day to lose my license,” Anna says, shifting the car in gear.

The car screeches out into the street and the engine revs as it speeds away. Maneuvering through the streets of Barcelona, your body gets thrown to the side with every turn Anna takes. You’re a little concerned at the speed, but you don’t dare to ask to her slow down.

The car comes to a halt in front of a red light and Anna taps the steering wheel in frustration. “come on… come on…” she says to herself.

As soon as the light turns green, Anna slams her foot on the pedal leaving clouds of rubber dust behind. She earns herself a few honks from the nearby drivers and when you glance back, a few middle fingers too.

In the back of the car, you’re lost in thought trying to figure out what you’re going to say to Alexia when you see her. So lost in thought that you failed to spot the familiar Bluagrana colors in the distance, moving further and further away from you by the second.

“There it is!” Emma screams out, pointing at the bus.

Staring at all the traffic up ahead, Anna grips the steering wheel and takes in a deep breath, “my time to shine.”

Emma glances back at you with a little fear in her eyes and there’s no doubt she sees the same in yours.

Anna expertly weaves the car in and out of the chocked line of traffic. A few cars swerve out of the way when they see Anna coming up behind them, earning her more honks and a few more offensive gestures. Miraculously, Anna manages to come up right up alongside the bus and repeatedly taps the horn to get the drivers attention. When the bus doesn’t slow down, Anna accelerates in an attempt to get in front of it.

“Anna, please remember that’s a bus full of professional athletes,” Emma warns her.

Anna nods, determined, “I got this.”

The bus driver, finally realizing there’s a maniac driving next to them, starts to slow down a little bit. This gives Anna the opportunity to pass the bus and get in front of it. The car starts slowing down and the bus driver has no choice but to also slow down and come to a stop.

“It’s go time, Y/N! Go get your girl,” Emma says, looking back at you and giving you two thumbs up.

You want to throw up. You’re not sure if it’s because of the nerves or because of Anna’s driving, but there’s a concerning feeling in the pit of you stomach. But, you know there’s no time to lose so push it out of your mind.

“Thank you, Annie,” you lean into the driver’s seat and give her a kiss on the cheek, “you’re the best!”

Just about you’re close the car door behind you, you hear Anna say, “and they say lesbians can’t drive.”

With the team bus stopped in the middle of a busy street, it’s no surprise a crowd has started to gather around it.

“Alexia!” you scream out, hoping she’ll hear you from the inside. If your face hadn’t been plastered all over the news these past few weeks, people would assume you’re a lunatic fan chasing after Alexia.

Instead, you’re just a girl fighting to win back the love of her life.

“Alexia! It’s me!”

You start to make your way around the bus, hoping you’ll see her sitting by one of the windows. Unfortunately, the glass is so tinted that you can barely see inside.

The sound of the bus door opening gets your attention, and you turn around to see Alexia peeking outside.

“Ale!” you say, running to her.

Alexia looks around, confused. “What’s going on?” she asks, “what are you doing here?” and you can hear the unmistakable hurt in her voice.

“I’m here for you.”

Now that you’re both standing outside, people have started to take out their cameras to capture the moment. You can see them from the corner of your eye, but you pay them no mind. You only have eyes for Alexia.

“Baby, I’m so, so sorry,” you plead, reaching for her hands but she keeps them tucked to her side, “I made a huge mistake. I was so scared, and I acted like a huge idiot. The day you walked into the bookshop; you changed my life. For so long I’ve been so afraid of change. I’ve resisted it like you wouldn’t believe. But I’m done being afraid, mi amor.”

You reach for her hand again and this time, she allows you to.

“I’ll take it all to be with you, the good and the bad. Let them write whatever they want, I don’t care,” you take a step closer, your other hand reaching up to caress her cheek, “you were right, baby, you were so right. All that matters is that we know the truth, that you know the truth,” you pause, a small smile tugging on your lips, “and the truth is that I’m so deeply and madly in love with you.”

Alexia looks around, seeing more and more people with phones in their hands all directly pointed at you. And yet, you don’t seem to care at all. There’s no doubt this little scene will be all over the news, but again, you don’t care.

“Are you sure you want all of this to be your life?” she asks, giving you one last chance to back out.

You nod without hesitation, “As long as you’re in it.”

Alexia looks deeply into your eyes, trying to find even a hint of doubt but she sees none. Out in the middle of the street, with the entire world watching, the two of you stand there. No words. No movement. No sound but a million words being said through locked eyes.

Alexia reaches up for your face with both hands and brings your lips to hers with urgency. She kisses you in front of everyone, as if though you are the only two people in the world and that’s exactly how it feels. It’s a kiss that takes your breath away and makes your heart soar.

Dazed, you open your eyes when Alexia reluctantly releases you. All around you, people clap and whistle.

“I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds,” a voice calls out, and you look behind Alexia to see her manager, Jona, outside the bus, “but we have a plane to catch.”

Alexia nods back at him but you have a feeling that if it were up to her, she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

You take her face in her your hands, “listen to me, Putellas,” a serious tone in your voice, “you are the best football player in the world, do you hear me? We all make mistakes but you should never let them define you. Those penalties mean nothing, Ale. Ballon D’or or no Ballon D’ D’or, it will not tarnish your legacy. So, I want you to walk out onto that pitch with your head held high, and kick some ass.”

Your words seem to resonate deeply with her because she pulls her shoulders back and nods her head with a new, fierce determination in her eyes.

“And you’ll be here when I come back?” she asks.

“No matter what.”

___________________

With Anna and Emma by your side, you watched Alexia take the free kick that guaranteed Barça’s spot in the final. While they jumped up and down in each other’s arms, your eyes remained glued to the screen. Alexia celebrated the goal with so much passion, unleashing all the frustration and anger that has plagued her for so long. But, as her teammates started to return to their positions, Alexia pointed at one of the cameras and formed a heart with her hands. A message for you.

Barça went on to win the final and you got to watch the love of your life, and the captain of the greatest football club in all of Europe, lift the Champions League trophy.

After the spectacle they witnessed when you proclaimed your love for Alexia to the entire world, reporters follow the two of you everywhere you go. While it certainly has not been easy to get used to, you find comfort in Alexia’s touch. When she senses you’re feeling overwhelmed, she whispers, I love you, in your ear and reminds you of what is really important.

Like now, you’re sitting in a limousine about to walk your first ever red carpet. Alexia is by your side, confident, with no hint of nerves on her features.

“You ready, mi amor?” she asks, her face illuminated by the flashing cameras that wait for her outside.

“I’m ready.”

The door opens and the fans explode in a roar when they get their first good look at Alexia. Winning the Champions League final only cemented her as the best football player in the world, and the entire world stands at attention in her presence.

Alexia leads you to the red carpet, not once ever letting go of your hand. You stand together, side by side, posing for pictures you know will be plastered on every newspaper and spread all over social media. And yet, you feel no fear or discomfort. All that matters to you is that light in Alexia’s eyes, and how it has continued to shine bright with you by her side.

“I’m happy you’re here,” she whispers in your ear, causing a blush to creep up on your cheeks.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

When they call her name and announce her as the winner of the Ballon d'Or, you watch as the most prominent members of the football world all rise in her honor. The spotlight shines on her ethereal beauty and it makes your heart skip a beat. You fall in love with her all over again.

Right as she’s finishing up her speech, she looks down at where you are sitting and smiles at you with love in her eyes. “I love you,” she mouths, and blows a kiss in your direction.

A kiss you reach up to catch, and hold very dearly close to your heart.

[twst-drabbles]

Neige and Rook 3

Summary: Rook finds an interesting observation of Neige when said King of Snow goes in and hugs the resident janitor.

(I really do like soft characters like Neige having an awakening of sorts. Or being corrupted. It fuels me either way. And sorry, my brain is refusing to stick to one thing, I have to bounce around.)

“Can you not skip around so much,” you grumbled then grunted as you lifted a box filled with cleaning supplied onto your shoulder, “I don’t want the soaps getting all foaming.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Rook stopped with a flourish. He really can’t help it. The happiness within him just wishes to come out! “It’s just so rare of you to actually ask for help. And for you to go out of your way to ask me. You have to understand the thrill going through me.”

“This is thrilling? Picking up boxes for the only janitor on campus?” He understands why you would be baffled but he knows you to be someone who prefers to be left to their own devices. “Come on. Being an errand boy can’t be that exciting.”

“Think that all you want, it does nothing to diminish my joy in the task.” Rook bumped his box against yours, wanting nothing more than to infect you with his own brand of happiness. If you can have a little fun, well, he would love to see that face as well.

How odd to him, to see you carry yourself as though a lone vagabond in the world, even though you have plenty of people surrounding you. Though, it has nothing to do with fear of attachments, but more a simple acceptance of what may come and go. You asked Rook to help you with the boxes towards the back stage, but you had a wagon all ready to be used in case he said no. You hold no hesitation to make bonds, but you’re more than ready to move on if rejection was on the tongue.

Perhaps it is because of this ease you had about you that many want to be your friend? Perhaps, that strength of yours is what caught Rook’s attention, along with many other wanderers in your life.

Such as that dear King of Snow making his way towards you.

The value you had in his presence was made apparent to Rook when you put those boxes down as quickly as you could.

“Oh, hey Neige.” You stood up just in time to catch Neige in a hug. “Didn’t expect you here. I thought you were practicing.”

As bright as Rook’s King of Snow is, Rook knew him to be friendly as well as careful. It was the kind of caution that was powered by genuine and well placed concern. Neige was well aware of the millions upon millions of eyes watching him and as such made sure to never talk bad towards anyone, or even give such a hint through his actions.

Despite his kind heart, King of Snow has no one close that Rook was aware of. But, it seems Rook found a candidate for such a position.

Neige hasn’t said a word. His eyes were closed, unaware that Rook was right behind you, watching the whole thing unfold. You patted his back and that only made his idol squeeze tighter and bury his nose into your shoulder. The flush that crawled up King of Snow’s neck, the gentle fluttering of his eyelids as he gave a most dreamy sigh.

Now, Rook was never one to make assumptions and he was more than willing to pretend this was simply Neige being starved for any sort of touch, but then he took notice that he was there. His eyes went wide, shoulders stiffened up, then Neige ripped himself away from your touch as though you were hot steel.

Ohoho…

Truly, there was no mistaking that look of desire in King of Snow’s. Not when even Neige himself was aware of them and accidentally placed them on full display for Rook’s viewing pleasure.

[bearr02]

All Shall Fear Him |Chapter One|

Pairing: Mafia!Yoongi x F!reader

Chapter warnings: kinda angsty (I think), Jin’s being sweet tho

Summary: Everyone has, and should, always feared Min Yoongi. They knew never to one, cross his path and two, make him mad. Oh if ever you made him mad, you better hope to god he’d make it easy on you. One man, however, didn’t understand the reason why this man, ‘the great Min Yoongi’ should be feared. That mistake, costs him his girlfriend, all he can do is hope it didn’t cost her life.

Genre: Angst, Mafia au, smut, eventual fluff…

W.C: 1.3k

A/n: I DID IT! Huzzah! Hope y’all like it, I don’t know how to feel abt it I’m just happy I got something out there. Jin’s honestly gonna be like momma bear or protecting older brother in this series. Gotta love it <3. Enjoy :D

Also, I recommend reading the teaser as its more like an intro to the story, of course if you don’t want to you don’t have to!

Credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers!

Next - Masterlist

You keep your eyes locked on the world passing by outside of the window, your hands interlocked on your lap to keep them from shaking as tears silently slide down your cheeks. You’ve been in the car for what feels like forever, the seconds feel like hours, the minutes like days as you nervously wait for your new life to begin.

By the time the car pulls up to a fancy, no doubt million dollar mansion, you feel reality truly set in, pursing your lips to hold in a sob.

Your door is opened, and barely a second later you’re pulled out roughly, tripping over your feet as you struggle to keep your balance.

You don’t have time to regain it before the man behind you forces you to move. “Jesus, be careful with her.” You hear someone speak, looking up to see a man coming out of the house with his brows furrowed. The man takes you from the last man’s arms, giving you a moment to get balanced on your feet again before he introduces himself.

“Hi. I’m sorry about him, my name’s Seokjin but you can call me Jin.” You nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. He offers you a smile before leading you to the doors to the giant mansion in front of you.

As soon as you enter, you feel your mouth drop open. The living room is huge, leading to a gigantic kitchen, with 2 hallways on each side and two grand staircases leading to another floor that overlooks the current floor you’re on. You know you shouldn’t be surprised, he’s a part of the mafia after all, there’s no doubt in your mind he makes easy millions, but this mansion is huge.

You don’t have much time to admire it any longer when the man, Jin, starts guiding you to one of the two staircases leading to the second floor.

You take one last look at the downstairs before Jin leads you down one of the hallways and into a room, closing the door behind the both of you. “I’m really sorry about this, the whole thing. It’ll probably be tough here for a while but even if we don’t really know each other, you can always reach out to me, yeah?” You nod, refusing to look at the man.

He sighs, putting on a small smile before leaving the room, closing and locking it behind him. You look around the room, it’s spacious, yet you still feel like you're being locked in a closet, the knowing of the door being locked gets to you more than you’re willing to admit.

Safe to say you feel trapped.

Absolutely, positively, fucking trapped.

You feel your bottom lip wobble as tears begin to cloud your vision. Falling to your knees on the floor before resting completely on the ground and curling in on yourself, muffling your sobs that seem to flow out freely.

—

You’re not sure how much time has passed, or when you finally managed to fall asleep, but when you wake up the sun is starting to set and you can hear voices moving closer and closer to the room.

You scramble to stand up, frantically searching the room for somewhere to hide, even if it won’t do much. You scramble to the closet when you can hear the voices clear as day, slowly closing the door behind you to ensure it won’t make noise.

You sit in the furthest corner of the decently big closet, making sure some clothes are shielding you from the door. You firmly press a hand over your mouth, tuning in on the conversation as best as you can.

Much to your luck, all you can hear is the mumbles of a few different voices, maybe 3.

You close your eyes when you hear the bedroom door being unlocked before the voices quiet down. “Where is she?” Yoongi speaks, sending a chill down your spine. “I locked her in here, she couldn’t have gotten out.” You hear Jin speak. “Then how the fuck is she gone?” Yoongi’s calm demeanor shakes you to the very core as tears begin to slip down your cheeks again.

“She’s probably hiding, Yoongi.” Jin says, taking you by surprise how calm and unaffected he sounds. “Then find her.” Yoongi says, then you hear multiple pairs of footsteps echo around the room.

You squeeze your eyes when you hear the closet door being opened, pressing your hand closer to your mouth to muffle a whimper that slipped past your lips. The man doesn’t seem to have noticed it, continuing to shuffle through the clothes.

You yelp when you’re pulled up, fighting against the man. “I found her!” He announces, dragging you back into the bedroom before throwing you on the floor. You whimper at the force, scrambling to sit up as your gaze shifts between the four men in the room.

“Fuck, Lee, be careful.” Jin growls, his concerned eyes resting on your figure. The man snorts, “I only take orders from Min, Kim.” Your eyes last land on Yoongi who’s sitting on the bed. He holds up his hand as he stares at the three other men present.

“You may all leave.” You suppress a shiver as you look down at Yoongi’s cold tone. You hear the footsteps of the three men move toward the door before it closes and silence envelops the space.

You scoot away when Yoongi stands up, snapping your head up, watching him with wide eyes as he moves closer. You stagger back when he takes a bigger step toward you, seemingly like he jumped, yet you don’t make it far when he leaps forward and grabs your hair, practically falling on top of you.

You yelp, fighting against him to no avail. He tugs harshly on your hair, pulling your head back for a moment and no doubt tugging out some strands making you whimper. “Fucking bitch.” He whispers under his breath, standing up and tugging you with him.

He drags you to the bed, throwing you on to it before getting on top of you. You push against him, smack him, and tug on him, to no avail.

The hold he has on your hair tightens before he lifts your head up slightly only to slam it back down on the bed harshly. “Will you just fucking stop?!” He yells making you sob, squeezing your eyes shut as you weakly push at him. He huffs before letting go of your hair, grabbing your wrists to pin them on the bed instead.

“Now, here’s how this will go, you will respect me, you will do as I say, and you will not try to escape. If you so much as even think about it, there will be consequences. Understand?” You shiver at his tone, a sob escaping your lips as you try to weakly tug your wrists out of his hold.

“I asked you a question.” You move your head to the side when he inches closer. “Answer me.” You whimper when the hold on your wrists tighten. “Y-yes..” you say weakly.

Yoongi finally lets go of your wrists but he doesn’t get off of you, you can feel the weight of his hands being pressed into the bed beside your waist. You risk taking a peak at him only to see his intense gaze still resting on you.

You whimper, pinching your eyes shut and turning your head to the side, curling in on yourself as much as you can under Yoongi. He’s silent for a few more seconds before he finally gets up.

You hear his footsteps echo around the room before you hear a door open, shut, and lock. Sealing you in the room, no doubt for the night if not longer.

You curl up fully, burying your face in your knees as you cry yourself to sleep.

Next - Masterlist

A/n: Okay to be fair, I’ve had this part done for like, a few weeks..but this chapter was supposed to be longer. I had almost 3k words on it when I hit a writers block with it (just like with sas), and like it’s been almost 2 months since I made that teaser so like I wanted to get sumn out there soon. I also have the first chapter of The mockingbirds song done so I’ll get that out there sometime soon if anyone is interested in it. Thank you for bearing with me with this one though! Love you all mwah!

[avelera]

Genuinely curious, in GS what are some of the reasons Dream starts falling for Hob? In the beginning he’s more open to talking about his grief and relating to another human being, why is that? I do absolutely get the answers of this from the fic I’m just interested in hearing your thoughts 💖

Ooh, thank you, Anon, this is such an exciting question! Consider this an official "Giving Sanctuary" Behind the Scenes look!

Let me just quickly get the Doylist reason for Dream being so in love with Hob from the beginning in GS out of the way first:

I had, at that point, seen a lot of fics where Hob has the uphill battle of wooing Dream and/or Dream spent most of the fic coming around to the fact he was in love with Hob. Which makes a lot of sense! Dream is very closed off with his emotions and in denial about so many things about himself. There is a lot of evidence for a read that any relationship between Hob and Dream is going to require Hob to continue to be the emotionally open one and slowly chip away at Dream's reticence and denial of any and all emotion.

But it's been done. It's been done by really heckin' good writers so around ch. 2 of writing GS I had a discussion with my incredible beta reader @thornfield13713 (without whom this fic would simply not exist) and the outcome of the conversation was, "Hey, what if Dream did know that he's in love in this fic? And what if Dream fell head over heels with Hob in 1689 right there at the White Horse and acted upon it?"

I was so excited and amused by the idea I couldn't resist going with it! Further discussions with amazing people like @fishfingersandscarves made me even more convinced of the hilarity of a fic that extrapolated on Dream's heart eyes in 1689 when Hob says he has, "so much to live for," to full on teenage crush territory, doing the Dream equivalent of giggling and twirling his hair. Why? Because Dream is sadness-sexual and Hob is suddenly (after a bath) hot to him! He has this long romance novel cover hair, an open shirt revealing his manly chest hair, and an air of tragedy about him which was catnip for Depression of the Endless here. (Fishy did some HILARIOUS doodles while we were brainstorming this!).

And the thing is, there is evidence for this version of Dream! Dream goes from zero to a million with Nada, the whole relationship lasts about a day I think?? So there's actually plenty of evidence that once Dream knows he's in love, he's not actually that repressed! He goes for it! Even with Alianora they basically get introduced and he says more or less "if we're to be lovers, I'll give you my heart, my constancy, and my love forever". They just met!

When it comes to love, Dream in the comics is actually quite a romantic! To the point where the popular fanon that he doesn't know love feels like might be a disservice. If anything (and this appears in GS) the reason he's hesitant to be demonstrative at first with Hob is because of traumatic events in his life like Nada?

So I asked myself, what if Dream does actually have a modicum of a sense of responsibility to not repeat that mistake that he made with Nada, and so he knows he's in love with Hob but hesitant to give in until he can be 100% sure he's not going to hurt the person he loves again, and then he's hesitant because, like a self-aware adult, he realizes that Hob feels beholden to him for getting him off the street and so Dream resolves to let Hob make the first move? (Made all the more hilariously tragic because Hob decides to let Dream make the first move because of his fears of losing the friendship.)

So anyway, that was the reason I wanted to write a Dream that knows he's in love from the outset BUT, let's dive into the Watsonian, in-universe answers to your question because I adore talking about it so much!

So in the fic, Dream's original, "Oh," moment where he fell in love was the one we see, in my opinion, canonically on screen in the show when Dream gives Hob that ridiculously soft and wondering look when he says, "Death is a mug's game, I've got so much to live for."

However, the actual divergence point from canon, the reason Dream doesn't just feel the first soft stirring of An Emotion towards Hob but then still just fucks off for another hundred years, is the decision to prolong the night by going to another pub but more importantly, it's when Hob offers his sympathies about Orpheus.

But even then, when Hob offers his sympathies? Dream doesn't offer almost anything back! In fact, if you read the dialogue closely, Dream is pretty much entirely focused on himself and only himself during that entire conversation, up until the very end when he offers Hob a place to sleep for the night.

Thing is, Dream in GS is the softest I ever write him, but he's still not a great person in Ch. 1, he's actually incredibly selfish and self-centered, and there's a very deliberate reason for that! This ties into your question of exactly how and why Dream falls in love so hard and fast with Hob there. Let me explain:

It's my belief that one of the most insidious aspects of grief and depression (clinical or otherwise) is how it isolates us. But more important, how it makes us turn inward, which exacerbates the isolation. Dream has been mourning the death of his son at this point for give-or-take 2,500 years. He's marinated in that grief. He has turned inward, and selfish, and cold, and cruel because of it. The pain is real but it's a pain so intense to him that it makes him completely blind to the pain of others. It has arrested his development, his maturity, and his empathy for others entirely, so he is effectively operating at a teenage or early 20-something emotional level ever since. He sees slights everywhere, he thinks subjectively if not objectively that no one has suffered as profoundly as he has. He feels abandoned by his family and he feels like no one in his life understands his grief.

Some of this is based in fact! He is, in fact, the only Endless to have a child they care about (that I know of so that is canon to the fic) so none of his other siblings could really empathize with him or offer him more than platitudes.

Even worse, Destiny, Destruction, and Death, his three favorite siblings arguably, all directly or indirectly led to Orpheus's death, with Destruction encouraging him to go to the Underworld after Eurydice, Destiny warning Death not to offer the boon of Super Immortality, and Death abiding by Destiny's recommendation since he gives those so rarely. But not only did they not stop Orpheus they didn't warn Dream so he could take this moment more seriously and possibly intervene.

Now, would Dream have listened? Probably not! But with 20/20 hindsight, his bitterness was compounded by the (likely incorrect) belief that if he had just known everything that Destiny, Death, and Destruction knew, he could or would have prevented Orpheus's death. Or at the very least if he had known that he was about to lose his son, and there was no stopping it, he could have at least enjoyed their final days together. Of course that would have altered events significantly but it's also very unlikely Dream would have altered his own actions even with the knowledge that Orpheus was going after Eurydice. Dream's conclusions that he would have taken action if he'd known everything (except that Orpheus was doomed) are illogical thoughts based on grief, not objective reality or self-awareness, but they've compounded Dream's bitterness and isolation towards his own family before the fic begins, unlike in canon, where Orpheus still being a severed head means Dream's grief and blame is much more complicated and thus intractable.

Likewise, Calliope also officially broke ties with Dream as a result of his coldness towards Orpheus after he met Eurydice and his failure to prevent Orpheus's death (viewing Dream much the same way Dream views his siblings' lack of intervention) so Dream was truly alone and stewing with his grief for millennia.

Enter Hob Gadling, who recently lost his son. Who, counter to everything Dream expected after seeing that Hob had a son and a wife he loved in 1589, has not given up on life the way Dream has. Dream is actively wishing to die in GS as a result of Orpheus's death and only held back by the weight of his responsibilities, which I think is pretty much canonical to the comic series.

Now, I've ranged far from my point, but to swing back to it: Dream is still in a very selfish and inward-facing place in Ch. 1, even as he helps Hob. To be clear, he doesn't fall in love for Hob's sake in that moment, he falls in love very narcissistically with the projection of his own grief in another person. When Dream says, "[I'm not weeping for you] I'm weeping for myself," he's telling the truth. He sees in Hob's misery and rags and suffering the outward projection of how Dream feels every single day since Orpheus died. He sees in Hob's isolation how Dream feels after being (he feels) abandoned by Calliope and his siblings. Dream feels like he's looking in a mirror at himself right after Orpheus's death (absurd as that might from a material angle given all the power he has vs. Hob's destitution). He's not quite taking Hob out for another drink at that moment, he's taking "Dream the Day Orpheus Died" out for a drink and only slooowly over the course of the conversation begins to see Hob for his own sake, not just a reflection of himself.

Arguably he didn't invite Hob out to the Penny Whistle to help Hob but because he's having feelings for this reflection of his own pain. He's still too depressed and inward-facing to really be cognizant of Hob's grief, he only sees his own, so being with Hob is still a form of sort of wallowing at this point.

But the thesis of the story, and indeed, my own emotional thesis around grief and depression and healing, is that helping someone else begins to break down those walls. Not entirely, but it's a start. Hob's moment of selflessness, when he takes a break from his own grief to care for Dream, is the first crack in the ice that's encased Dream for millennia. Taking care of Hob over the course of the story helps Dream widen that gap and, in the course of their conversation at the Penny Whistle, just enough light breaks through the grief that has buried Dream that he begins to see that he has been buried by it.

Up until this point, Dream has just sort of... accepted that his pain and grief are just the world itself. It's just the way of things. The fact that other people like Hob (when he's enjoying life, unlike 1689) can't see that the natural state of the world is pain and darkness make Dream think those people are stupid. It makes him hate them and himself and life. This little crack of light that Hob allows in by showing Dream empathy illuminates for Dream that there is something out there besides his pain. That maybe he is wrong that there's nothing to life but misery. Maybe he is, in fact, trapped by his grief. Maybe, in fact, his grief isn't the truth, but has actually blinded him to the true state of the world around him.

That is really the moment Dream goes from fond of Hob and nominally invested in his survival to head-over-heels, Nada levels of love-at-first-sight obsessed with Hob in an instant. And it's still selfish! I'd argue his love for Nada was selfish in a similar way, falling for someone who made him feel things.

But Dream realizes he's in love! He realizes it the moment that Hob takes his hand and won't let him go and tells him he cares if Dream is there in 100 years and he cares not in any sort of transactional way other than it makes him happy to know that Dream is out there, hopefully happy as well, and that it's an entirely selfless love of Hob's or that it's selfish insofar as Dream's simple continuing existence gives Hob hope of a familiar face every century. He tells Dream, whose parents treated love as transactional at best and unwanted at worst, that Dream doesn't have to do anything for Hob to continue to wish the best for him. Nothing is expected! In fact, Dream didn't have to do anything in the first place, even be kind to Hob, to win this love. In fact he's been pretty awful to Hob, but it doesn't matter, because Hob cares about him anyway just for being himself and being alive and being there in accordance with their agreement to meet once a century.

This is incredibly revelatory for Dream, to simply be cared about and wanted by someone who isn't dependent on him (like a subject) where he can argue that they don't really care about him, they care about his function as Dream Lord. Even Jessamy and Lucienne Dream can dismiss as caring about him because of how he fulfills his function. Which, when one is in a deep depression, can overcome the obvious facts that Jessamy and Lucienne love Dream for who he is, not just for being the Dream Lord! But with Hob, even depression can't make the argument that Hob cares about the Dream Lord and not for Dream, since Hob knows nothing about Dream's function as of yet.

It's impossible to understate how revelatory this moment at the Penny Whistle is for Dream. To have someone who understands his grief about his son, who reaches out in sympathy, who basically says he will fight God for allowing Orpheus to die and says it with complete sincerity. To have someone care and be invested in Dream without any possibility that he does so for his role. To have, for the first time, someone ask Dream if he's ok now about Orpheus's death, even though it was 2,500 years ago! Unlike everyone else, even Calliope, Hob is the first one not to assume that Dream is over it yet, or that he never felt anything at all. Hob is the first fellow grieving father to see Dream and ask him, as a father, if he is still grieving his son, and if he's going to be ok, and if he's actively suicidal about it!

This beat was based on real anecdotes I've read from parents who lose a child, how the mother is often flooded with sympathy and support, but fathers are often ignored as far as their need for support after (just one more way toxic masculinity fails men). My partner said it rang true that, as a man, no one had ever really asked Dream if he was ok after Orpheus died, beyond the initial condolences, and he's not ok. In fact, he's been actively buried in the darkest despair about it ever since!

So Dream falls in love with Hob here. Yes, it's for selfish reasons at first, that Hob finally gives Dream the sympathy he's always craved. But that selfish love of Hob for comforting him is the thread that helps lead Dream out of the dark. Then, over the course of their time together in the Manor House, that hole in the walls of his despair begins to break open even wider. Dream begins to see Hob for who he is and his good qualities. He begins to see Hob's grief over Robyn and sympathize with it for Hob's sake, not just his own. He begins to want to help Hob for his own sake, not just so Hob can say more nice things to Dream, but because he realizes he wants Hob to be happy, and that Dream wants to be happy, and that together they don't need to suffer like this. He begins to look around, finally, and see how Lucienne is afraid of his anger, though she's done nothing wrong, and that Jessamy cares deeply for him and suffers discomfort on his behalf because of her motherly love for him.

The selfish love leads him to selfless love and really, that's why it's all over for Dream with regards to Hob. He has been drowning for millennia and Hob is the first breath of air he's had. He's basically high on the first positive emotions he's felt since Orpheus died, and it's thanks to Hob.

Dream's emotions are immature as a result of that arrested development, because Dream hasn't felt anything consistently good since Orpheus died. He is, in fact, effectively a teenager! He gets a crush! He's doing the Endless equivalent of giggling and twirling his hair and complimenting Hob for pointing out blindingly obvious things. Dream's body, that he's been basically ignoring except for possibly the occasional physical release of a one-night stand, suddenly springs back to life in embarrassing ways because he's not buried in misery anymore. Dream begins to feel things, physically and emotionally, because finally someone cares about him in the way he needed to be cared about. And so he falls in love, Big Love, Forever Love, with Hob for being there, being the person he needs, for loving him the way he needs. And very fortunately, Hob is over the moon ecstatic to get the chance to shower Dream with that love, because he feels the same way in return!

This is already insanely long. Obviously I have a lot of feelings about this. But it was amazing even to me how much Dream in 1689 specifically clicked with Hob the minute Hob began to share his grief and offer his sympathy to Dream in return. After that, it was amazing I could keep their hands off each other for as long as the story did! Which was, minus Destiny's intervention, one whole entire week lol.

[greazyfloz]

Lovers & Strangers - Chapter 30

Previous

~2 Months Later~

[Ethan POV]

It’s been 2 months since I stupidly brought Sophie to y/n’s room. At the time I knew exactly what I was doing. I wanted to hurt her, as crazy as that sounds. After hurting her I realized exactly why we shouldn’t be together. I’m now in a relationship with Sophie with the fear that I will be stuck with this permanent feeling that I’ll never get over Y/n. 

Y/n has avoided me since that night, won't text me, won't look at me, she barely even goes to games. I heard that her and Mark’s relationship ended up taking a bad turn from a couple of the guys on the team. Mark and I are good and are actually becoming as close as we were before this whole mess, but he knows his limits when it comes to talking about our relationships. 

It was the last game before I headed back home to Alberta for a week for Christmas, and I was laying in bed having my pre-game nap when I hear a knock on the door, “Yup” I yell out stretching as I wake from my sleep. Mark walks in and sits at my desk.

“I can’t do this with y/n anymore” Mark says and I sit up.

“You’re going to break up with her?” I ask him

“I don’t know- yeah” Mark says rubbing his face in his hands, “she doesn’t love me like she loves you. She hasn’t talked to you in two months and she still somehow manages to bring you up. She is forcing herself to stop loving you and she shouldn’t have to”

“I told you not to break her heart” I say as I feel the blood inside of me boil

“There is no love anymore, it was all fascination. I’m telling you because you need to be there for her, she's going to need you”

“I- um-” 

“She is stupidly stubborn, you should know that. She will let you back in. You are the only person she will always let back in” Mark says standing up and then leaving. 

I slap my cheeks wondering if I am still dreaming or not after Mark leaves before I get up and get ready for the game. I don’t know how I’m supposed to be there for her when she won’t even look at me or talk to me. I continue thinking about y/n until I realize that can’t happen anymore. Not with Sophie in the picture.

[Y/N POV]

The game ends, and I made my way down to the tunnel to see Mark. It was the last game before Christmas break so of course there was going to be a party. Mark came out of the dressing room and smiled at me, but it wasn’t the same familiar warm smile, it seemed less genuine.He gives me a side hug and Truss comes out next. We follow Truss to his car. We get home and go up to Mark’s room.

“what’s wrong?“ I ask him, but he refuses to look at me.

“it’s over, I’m breaking up with you”

“W-why?” I said, ask my voice breaks

“you aren’t happy, we aren’t happy. I’m not mad I just think it’s better this way for all of us” mark says watching as tears form in my eyes, and he shakes his head and turn away again, not being able to look at me

“so what, you want to go back to hating each other? was that easier? You’re gonna leave me all alone now?” I say, sitting on his bed and hiding my face into my hands, “Mark I said yes to marrying you”

“ and you shouldn’t have”

“ you’re right looks like it’s one of the million of mistakes that I’ve made in the past year” I say, standing back up from his bed, “obviously you’re the one that’s unhappy in this relationship, and I’m not gonna stand in your way. I guess you’re right we’re over.”

I stand and look at him, waiting for him to say anything, but he doesn’t so I collect some of my things and leave, letting the tears roll off my face. As I open the front door, I see Sophie and Ethan walking up the front steps into the house.

“Y/n, w-“ Ethan says, but I cut them off, brushing, passed him

“don’t fucking talk to me” 

I end up walking all the way home not caring about how dark it was or cold it was. I was on a mission so I knew exactly what I wanted to take and I wanted them all.

I make it back to my house, thinking my friends would probably be at the party already, but to my surprise they were in the kitchen still pregaming. They saw me upset, and immediately stopped to come and comfort me. I told them about what happened and that I wasn’t really down for a party tonight and they all decided to just stay home and watch movies with me.

A week later, I’m now home in Alberta. My first night home was relaxing so far, but I’ve never in my life Wanted to drink more than right now. I heard Denise’s voice come from the kitchen, so I made my way down. She saw my upset face and opened her arms wide, and I didn’t say anything as I walked up and wrapped my arms around her and cried on her shoulder.

“ your parents told me about the break up“ she says, rubbing my back “his loss“ . I pull away and notice her whole family in the kitchen and I look back at her confused, “the whole gang is coming over“

“even the Edwards’?” I ask her and she nods, “ I didn’t know we were having a party“

“ Boxing Day party was moved today, because Terri Lynn, he’s going on a cruise” Denise tells me rolling her eyes

“ well, I better go get ready“ I say, making my way back to my room. I open my closet and grab a green suede dress, then walk over to my vanity and fix my hair and make up before walking back down into the kitchen.

Ethan and his family had arrived while I was getting ready. I stand in the kitchen with the adults before Ethan’s mother says that everyone’s in my living room.

I walk into my living room, and so far it’s only Ethan, Brett and the two girls as the rest of the families haven’t shown yet. I sit on the couch across from Ethan and look at his feet, unable to look up at him. I watch him nudge his brother before his brother speaks up.

“okay girls, let’s go get a head start on that gingerbread house making contest” he says, making the two girls squeal, following him to the dining room, and leaving Ethan and I alone.

 I stand and leave walking back to my bedroom, and I hear Ethan follow me. I don’t bother shutting the door as I knew he was just gonna come in anyway. I sit on the bed, and he said beside me.

“ hey, I um-“ he starts, and I look up at him, “Mark told me what happened”. I laughed dryly before speaking up.

“yeah, right. He told you that he broke up with me because I love you?” I say, standing up and making my way to the door.

“yeah“ Ethan says, making me stop before reaching my door knob. I turn and look at him as he makes his way over and wraps his arms around me. I let him as a nuzzle my face and his shoulder, “ please tell me you still love me“ 

“ Ethan“ I say pulling away from him. I’m looking up into his eyes, “ we can’t be together“ 

“ why? There’s no one on this earth that will ever love you as much as I do. I still love you and I always will.” ethan tells me and I begin to cry thinking of all the times that Mark has said that to me.

“ I don’t wanna ruin our friendship-“ I start but sniffle, looking away from him

“ it’s already ruined. I can never go back to being just your friend. I can act like it, but it will never ever ever be real. not as real as my feelings for you. I love you.”

“ you sound like Mark. He told me he would never leave me now look where I am.” 

“ I’m not Mark, far from it” he says lifting my chin, so I look in his eyes, “ give me one chance, we can test it out. We will have to be honest with each other if we do fall out of love, so we don’t ruin anything more. but I can promise you right now, I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

Ethan leans down, and presses his lips on mine. I let the kiss deepen as we make our way back to my bed without breaking the kiss. “ I love you.“ he says, as he sits on my bed, and I straddle his lap. “ I fucking love you” he says again into the kiss. 

I feel him play with the bottom of my dress before lifting it over my head. He looks down, taking in the visual of my body before I press my lips back on to his. We begin making out as I feel his hands, reach up my body and massaging my tits through my bra. 

I stand and looked down at him, watching his expression change from lust to sadness. I turn to the door and locked it before, turning back and watching the smile reappear on his face as he stands up, and our lips make connection again. 

He reaches around me and unclasped my bra. I let it fall to the floor as I continued making out with Ethan. He starts to unbutton shirt until he takes it off, throwing it on my bed, then quickly reaches down to take his pants off next. I slide my panties off and make my way over to the bed and Ethan climbs on top. “ I need to hear that you love me.“ he says looking deep into my eyes

“ you already know“ I say, and bring my face up to rest on his Cheek, “ I love you Ethan”. I say, then he slides himself inside of me. He thrusts hard inside of me, but somehow it’s romantic. our eye contact, made it sensual, and felt like something you read out of a romance book.

We continued having sex in my childhood room, and I let him finish inside of me. After he finishes, he lays beside me on the bed and wraps me into his arms. He kisses the side of my face before I look over at him. 

“ what’s wrong?“ he says, as he watches a wave of sadness rush across my face

“ Sophie“ 

“she means nothing to me, it’s over between us. And it has been for months.”

“ but you guys are together” 

“no, we broke up before I go to the airport yesterday” he told me and I furrow my eyebrows at him, “ I told her that she was right back in September to break up with me, because she wasn’t you”

“you’re an asshole“ I told him

“Yep I know. Don’t worry, her left hand sure let me know how she felt“ he tells me, making me laugh. 

I suddenly stop laughing and look at him in the eyes, “please don’t break my heart“

I watch him as he licks his lips, leaning in closer to mine and pressing a kiss before pulling away and looking at me, “I think we’ve broken each other’s hearts enough“

I smile and look over at my alarm clock seeing that it’s almost time for dinner, and stand from the bed, “ we should head down now” I smile at him and he smiles back. He gets up and we both get dressed, then head down.

We sit back on the couch, and still no one is in the room. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, bringing me close to him, and I look up at him with wide eyes.

“what?” He Questions with a smile, knowing what I’m thinking as I look around. His hand comes up, grabs my chin, facing him to plant another kiss. “Brett, taking the girls into the other room was just plan 1 of 5 that I came up with to get you to speak to me. Everyone here knows”

“I love you“ I say to him smiling

“I love you more“

. 

[normal-internet-user]

Decided to do some self indulgient father Tigerclaw stuff, this one is angsty, just cuz I feel like it :3

CODE OF CONDUCT

◇~~◇~~◇~~◇~~◇

Summary: You decide enough is enough, and leave your father due to his disregard of his own honor system.

Warnings: Angst, not really any comfort, so hurt/no comfort

Requested: Nah

GN Reader!

(Tigerclaws dialog will be orange)

....................................

You hastily shoved your belonging into your bag.

You've had enough. You though your father could handle this, but clearly he couldn't.

It only took one man to sway his strict honor code. One man, and a grudge against afew teenagers.

Pathetic.

The man your father once was would be disgusted at himself. You wished Shredder had never come to retrieve the two of you from Japan, you wished he could fight his own damn battles.

You zipped your bag closed, looking around your now bare room. You and your father had been provided rooms upon your arrival, but this place never felt like home.

It was like living in a mine field. You feared the day Shredder would turn on your father, and by extension, you.

You saw what had happened to Karai.

The memory caused you to shudder.

If Shredder was so willing to put the child he'd nursed from infancy in danger over his grudge against Hamato Yoshi, what could he do to you? To your father?

You quietly crept out of the Shredder's Lair and into the chilly New York air. The second you felt the wind hit your face, you booked it along the rooftops.

Trying to put as much distance between you and that hell hole as possible.

You had nowhere to go, but something could be figured out. Staying back there wasn't an option.

"What are you doing?"

You stopped dead in your tracks as you turned to face your dad, watching as his ears twitched, ever present of his surroundings.

"What are you doing, (Name)-chan?" He repeated.

You sighed looking up at him, "I'm leaving, Dad. I can't stay here anymore."

Your dad looked taken aback as you spoke, he crossed his arms, "What do you mean, leaving?"

"You know what I mean!" you said, raising your voice at your dad for the first time in your life, "This isn't right! What Shredder is doing is not right!"

"You are a child!" Tigerclaw shouted back, "You know nothing of what is right or wrong! You do as you are told!"

You scowled, "Oh and if I was told to shoot a child in the back of the head while it slept, should I comply? Tell me, Father, what happened to your honor? Where have you re-drawn the line?"

"(Name) please-"

"No! There is no honor in the Shredders work! There is no honor in harming millions of innocence for personal gain. There is no honor in slaughtering a family for a personal grudge!" You shook your head, looking away from your dad as tears welled in your eyes, you voice growing weak, "You've lost your honor."

Tigerclaw seemed to be at a loss for words, all he did was stare at you as your tears fell.

"I was scared, Dad. I don't feel safe around you anymore. It's- It's like you died and came back with your body, but not your mind. You're so blinded by your own hatred of those turtles that you can't see you're throwing away your own morals, the morals you taught me!"

"So you're leaving then." Your dad said, his voice low.

You nodded, wiping away your own tears, "Yes. I'm leaving. Now you can come with me, leave the Shredder behind and come with me, or the next time we meet will be as enemies on the battlefield."

Your father stood in silence, looking at you with his piercing yellow eyes.

"Ok then." you said, clutching your bag tightly, "Then this is good-bye." You turned from your father to face the skyline, sighing quietly.

"I love you, Dad."

"Good-bye, my cub. Hana no naka de aimashō."

You leapt from the rooftop, leaving behind your father as he processed the loss of his child.

As he processed his mistake.

....................................

This was fun to write. Don't worry I'll do some wholesome dad Tigerclaw to balance it out, but come on, the angst potential here is immence.

Translation: Hana no naka de aimashō: I'll see you among the flowers.

(This is what Tigerclaw said to Reader whenever he had to leave them on their own when they were younger.)

[fieldofdaisiies]

gwyn x balthazar | 4,5k words | warnings: explicit content | masterlist

Balthazar finds himself consumed by a thunderstorm of emotions — a mix of fury, shock, and fear that courses through him.

His voice is a blend of panic and anger when he talks to Gwyn, taking a forceful step forward with the intention of shoving her out of his hut and in the best, but impossible, case right back to Velaris where she is safe. 

"What are you doing here? You can't be here. I told you not to return!" he exclaims, his words practically shaking with intensity.

Gwyn, trembling uncontrollably, struggles to find the right words. But Balthazar gives her no room to answer anyway. 

"Where is Lady Morrigan? Azriel? Cassian? Who brought you here? You need to go home!"

But Gwyn's determination is unwavering — she needs answers and so power slowly seeps into her, erasing the pain for a moment and replacing it with anger. 

She presses forward, placing her hands on Balthazar's hard chest and physically pushes him back into his hut. "I won't leave until you tell me what's going on with you," she insists, her expression a mix of pain and fury.

Balthazar seems like he's ignoring what she's saying on purpose. "Gwyn, you need to leave," he repeats firmly.

"Never!" Gwyn is determined, her expression still pained yet also furious. She shoves at his chest again, burning tears running down her cheeks. "Why would you do this to me? After everything?" Her voice drips with hurt. 

"I let you into my life. I revealed everything to you. I gave you everything. I gave you my body, my heart, my love. And this is what you do to me? Was this is all so you could get me into bed?"

Stumbling backward, Gwyn weeps so intensely that her entire body convulses, shattering Balthazar's heart into a million pieces. Saying the words out loud hurts so much worse…

"I would never," he answers, his voice now softer and calmer. 

However, Gwyn is anything but calm. Her emotions surge to the front, and she wants to have proper answers. "Then why did you hurt me?" she shouts, watching him closely through her tear-blurred vision. The emotions brewing inside of her take the upper hand. "Why did you hurt me like this?"

Moving closer, she pounds on his chest with the flat of her palms. "Why? Tell me why! Why would you do that? Why," she repeats with each hit, her anger and pain pouring out. "Why. Why. Why. Why! Tell me!"

Balthazar withstands her emotional outburst until he can't bear to see her so upset anymore.

"Because I love you," he says, his voice now gentle and full of pain and regret. "You're my mate, Gwyneth, and I have to protect you, no matter the cost. You mean everything to me. Your safety is my top priority, and I'll always do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You are everything to me, Gwyneth."

Gwyn is struck by his revelation, her tears stopping as she staggers backward and steadies herself on a chair. Her mouth hangs open, her eyes widen, and she gazes at him in disbelief. Mate! 

The word hollows through her mind and then sets a small piece inside her chest on fire. It starts to glow, vividly and brightly. 

Balthazar can't stand the distance between them. He closes it swiftly, cradling her face in his hands and rests his forehead against hers. "The bond snapped for me," he murmurs. "You're my mate, Gwyneth, and I am yours. I made a grave mistake, and I knew I couldn't involve you in it."

"Balthazar," Gwyn whispers, her voice filled with tenderness. "The bond snapped for me as well. It means that we are mates, equals, forever connected. I will be by your side every step of the way, just as you are with me every moment of my life. I will be there for you always, but you have to let me in."

"Not if it means you are no longer safe."

"What is going on?"

"I can't tell you."

"Yes, you can!" Gwyn's voice is louder again and she sharply pulls away. "You have to!"

She is glowering at him, a muscle in her jaw ticking. Balthazar looks so torn, so pained, his shoulders slouched, demeanour cold and broken. "No, because I know you would want to get involved. And if you do, I don't know if I can protect you." He shakes his head and turns away. Walks away. Towards the kitchen counter, leaning against it. 

Gwyn, realising that her loud voice might have triggered memories of his father's shouting, now speaks more quietly. "Balthazar."

She walks up to, opens his wings, snuggles in between them, arms wrapping around his torso. She kisses his bare back, feeling the rock hard muscles encased by soft skin. She rests the side of her face against his back and draws in his scent. "Tell me what happened."

Balthazar leans into her, finding comfort in her embrace, the feel of her body against his. He takes a moment to relish it and then folds his hand over hers. 

"Zave hurt my mother. She is badly injured. His friends attacked Thena and he said…that next they would come for you." His voice is so cold, on the verge of breaking, yet rage simmers within it. "And so, in order to protect you, all of you, I decided to accept something."

"What did you accept?" Gwyn asks in a hushed voice, already tinged with panic. 

"A fight — him and I. No weapons, no magic, just the two of us, fighting…surviving."

Her entire body trembles as memories of losing her sister flood her mind, causing her throat to tighten, making it difficult to breathe and think. Her vision blurs, and panic courses through her and fills every fibre of her being with terror. 

She won't lose another person she loves. She can't…lose Balthazar. 

"No!" she cries out, her voice filled with nothing but panic, fear, and terror. She steps back from his back and moves around him, squeezing herself in between the counter and her mate. The temperature in the room has dropped at least four degrees, fury and shock tangible in the air. Outside Windhaven enters the night, and the darkness can also be felt inside the confines of Balthazar's home. 

"You can't do this!" she says and looks up at him. "You can't. You can't—"

"I have to." He places one hand on her shoulder, thumb stroking over her jaw. The other is on her hips, bringing her closer. "He doesn't deem me worthy of the camp lord title. I would have to earn it first, otherwise he won't stop. He will—"

"We need to tell Rhys and Cassian!"

"We can't!" Balthazar's voice is sharp and for a moment he worries he spoke too harshly to her. "Rhysand and Cassian can't always protect everyone up here and Zave and his friends won't stop. I have to do this. Truly prove myself." His voice is softer now, just like how he is caressing her skin. 

Gwyn shakes her head, new tears building up and slipping out of her eyes. He is so determined, she knows this, nothing will make him change his mind. 

"How is she?" Her voice trembles when she poses the question. "Your mother."

"Thena is taking care of her. She will be alright, I know this. They broke her anew." The young Illyrian swallows thickly, his own eyes watering. "But the outer wounds will heal, I know this."

Gwyn is shaking so badly, she needs Balthazar to hold her. He tips her chin up and captures her mouth with hers and kisses her. Against her lips he says, "Forgive me, Gwyneth. For the letter, for my actions, for agreeing to this fight, but it was the only way to ensure your safety."

Gwyn kisses him back, her eyes closing. "I wish I could hate you for being such an enormous idiot, such an huge Illyrian idiot, such a over-protective bastard, but I can't." She gives her head a little shake. "I am blaming the bond for making it impossible for me, but I can't even be mad at you in the slightest way. But promise me, never ever do something like this again. Never ever make such a decision again." 

She tastes the salt of his tears —or hers?— on her tongue and kisses him. Balthazar wraps an arm around her, holding her tighter. 

"I will never do something like this again. Never agree to something like this again. Not without consulting you first."

"Why would you risk your life like this?"

"Because I would risk everything for you." He holds her face in his hand. "Because I would tear down the whole night court for you. Gods, I would fight Rhysand and Cassian and Azriel and all of the Illyrian warriors for you." His thumb sweeps over her wet cheek and a sob leaves Gwyn. 

"You are everything to me. Your love is the most cherished thing in my life, and this bond is the most precious possession I have."

"You're crazy," Gwyn breathlessly expresses, "but I'd do the same for you. You are the source of my happiness, the greatest joy in my life. You make me feel alive, and our bond is also the most treasured and valuable possession in my life."

"I love you." 

"I love you so much, my mate." Her chest is warming, the bond glowing, its ribbons of spun gold slowly stretching out, connecting them. 

"The faerie I met after the blood right," Balthazar whispers and rests his forehead against Gwyn's, "it foretold everything. Even us being mates."

"Yes?" Gwyn asks. 

"'Your path shall intertwine with that of your soul's counterpart. You need to look beyond the veil of common, of ordinary, through the shadows and into the light. You shall not seek with your eyes, but with the glowing ribbon inside your chest. Be open for the unexpected, the surprising and wonderful,'" Balthazar recites.

"The glowing ribbon described the bond," Gwyn hums and has to smile. "We were truly always meant to be."

"Yes, we were."

 Their arms wrap around each other, and for a moment they only enjoy the presence of the other. It feels so good, so right, like nothing could shake their peace. The upcoming battle with Zave turns into insignificance, just like ever other unpleasant thing. In this moment it is just Gwyn and Balthazar, and nothing else matters. 

"I need to inform Azriel that I am not going home with him tonight. I think he is still waiting outside your hut," Gwyn says, voice barely above a whisper, a sheepish smile on her lips. 

Something about the mention of Azriel always makes a kernel of jealousy bloom inside of Balthazar, but he clamps down on it, and takes her hands into his. 

"You can't—"

"Yes, I can. I will stay!" She furrows her brows. And Balthazar gives in.

"No word to him about what we are planning, alright?"

Gwyn nods.

"You have to promise me — you know about the consequences."

Gwyn understands, and in this moment her love for her mate is simply stronger than her loyalty to the others. She knows about the risk, and she wants to protect Balthazar, but telling Rhysand and the others would probably only make matters worse. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

"Gwyneth." Balthazar inhales her scent, nose brushing over neck. 

"Hm?" She turns her head and tips it back to look into his eyes. "What is it?"

"Do you know what we have to do to accept the bond?" Balthazar is smiling at her, the boyish charm once again on his face. 

"Sex?" 

The words have barely left her mouth and Balthazar throws his head back, an amused and loud leaving him. It sounds like music in Gwyn's ears, the most beautiful sound she has ever heard and she wants to bottle it up and listen to every night and day. But not in this moment, right now she is confused.

His hands are still on her body, shaking with laughter. "Gwyneth," he says, his voice tinged with false scandalisation. 

"What?" She pouts her lips. "Nesta and Cassian had a lot of sex after accepting their bond. But technically also before…so…"

He cradles her face in his hands and meets her gaze, thumbs sweeping over her cheeks. "The bond makes you delirious with need and desire, so yes, we have a lot of sex after accepting it. The bond also makes you love the other much harder, so much your heart nearly bursts out of your chest. And the bond will also make you feel extremely territorial, and always wants to stake your claim over the other. I want my scent to be all over you, for everyone to know that you are mine, but that is not what I was talking about."

Gwyn waits for him to continue. But she is impatient. She knows what he meant by love someone harder. She is feeling this right now — she can barely grasp the immense volume of her love for him. 

"The female has to offer the male food. That is what has to be done in order to accept the bond."

Oh! Gwyn thinks, and remembers that piece of information — somewhere at the back of her mind she has actually known that. 

"Do I have to cook now?"

The smile is still on his face and Balthazar shakes his head. "You can grab anything you'd like from my kitchen and give it to me, but only if you are sure. Only if you really want this—"

She pushes past him, looking around in the kitchen. She does not have to search for long, eyes quickly finding a loaf of bread. She rips off a piece and then returns to Balthazar, bouncing on her toes. 

"Open up for me." She is beaming at her mate, eyes sparkling like the sun-kissed sea. Balthazar complies without saying a word. 

She places the small piece of baked good on his tongue and he swallows. 

Electricity seems to crack between them — it's as if sparks fly between their souls. A rush of warmth floods through their bodies, their gazes locked, lips parted. In this moment, everything appears to radiate with a bright glow. A subtle breeze dances through the room, making them feel light and alive. Their souls illuminating within their chests.

"Balthazar," Gwyn breathes, but has no time to continue. His lips meet hers, bodies colliding. She leans back to inhale, but Balthazar chases her mouth, not getting enough of her. His tongue darts out to lick over lips, to taste her, making her shiver deliciously.

Stroking along the edge of her cheek, he dives his fingers into her silken, copper strands. Balthazar reaches down to grab her thigh, lifting it over his hip to get closer, bodies melding. 

Gwyn grinds her pelvis into him, tearing a groan from deep in his throat. He reaches down and grasp her waist and without warning, he lifts her up. Gwyn squeaks in surprise as he carries her over to the bed, both her long legs automatically wrapping around him. She feels his arousal press against her, his desire just as acute as her own. Balthazar gently lays her down on the soft mattress and climbs on top of her. 

The muscles in his upper arm flex when he brace his hands next to Gwyn's head, looking down on her and sitting back on his heels. He lifts his other hand and brushes his finger over her face, his fingertips gently trailing over the scattering of freckles. He smiles. And she smiles as well — eyes landing on the bracelet she made for him. 

Just like she always has his fish with her, he also never goes a day without her bracelet. 

"You are my mate, Gwyneth." 

Gwyn nods, slightly breathless already. He is just so beautiful, and in this moment desire starts to cloud her mind and erase every rational thought. 

He turns his hand and now it is his thumb, brushing over her jaw and then her lower lip. "And that means you are mine, only mine."

"I already am. I am—" She gasps when Balthazar pushes his thumb through her lips. Her legs start to tremble, and wetness gathers between her thighs, heat pooling in her abdomen.

"That means you are mine to protect at any time. I know you can protect yourself, you are very capable of it, but I am your mate, Gwyneth." The tip of his thumb toys with her tongue. "I am your mate, and I am Illyrian. We are very territorial and what is ours will be protected at all costs, you understand? I will give my life for you, I want you to know this."

Gwyn slowly dips her chin and drags the tip of her tongue over his thumb. 

"Words, Gwyneth. Say it."

She fights the urge to roll her eyes and gives his thumb a gentle suck that nearly makes his eyes roll back. He groans, the sound so primal it makes her want to clench her thighs together. He removes his thumb, yet letting his hand rest on the side of her face, thumb on her chin. 

"I understand. And I want you to protect me." Gwyn smiles. "But don't you ever dare pull some bullshit of not letting me fight in battles or forcing me to stay home when you think something could be too dangerous for me."

Balthazar shakes his head, honesty etched upon his features. "I would never do something like that. You are allowed to fight. Always." 

He leans in to kiss her, gently at first, then with more hunger. His damp lips trail down the exposed column of her neck, to her cleavage until they wrap around her hardened nipple through the fabric of her gown. 

She sighs, feeling how her body already starts to bend to his will — he just has this effect on her. And it is alright. She likes the dominance he has over her. She knows Balthazar would never take advantage of her. If she gives him control over her body, he won't harm her, her will make her feel good, better than anything has ever felt before. He knows exactly what to do with body, how to treat her right. She is fine with giving him control, handing over the reigns, knowing he would never use her, never take advantage of this situation. 

"I bet you're very wet already," Balthazar chuckles and raises his brow. His hands slide down to her hips, softly tugging on the hem of her gown, pulling it up to reveal her underwear. "So very wet that you're soaking through your underwear."

Gwyn bites down on her bottom lip, but before the kernel of embarrassment can even take root in her chest, Balthazar kisses her. "Don't you even dare feel ashamed of something like that. And yes, before you ask, I felt the emotion through the bond." He lets his fingers slide beneath the waistband of her underpants, dragging them through her wet folds, and a groan leaves him. "This is nothing but delicious, Gwyneth. Don't feel ashamed."

He works her with his fingers first, watches how she falls apart right beneath him and after licking his digits clean, his mouth finds her cunt and he makes her come around his tongue once again. 

"Divinity," he whispers and places kisses up her belly, helping her slip out of the gown and underwear, tossing all the pieces of clothing on the floor next to the bed. His trouser follow in an instant and when he is back on the bed, he kisses deeply. 

She wants him closer, hips falling open wider, so his body can perfectly meld against hers. 

"You'll win this fight." Gwyn nips at his lips. "You make it out of this stupid battle and you come to back to me. I won't lose you. You'll return to me."

"I will." Balthazar grabs himself, positioning the tip of his cock at her entrance. "I will always come back to you." His drags his cock through her folds, electing a mewl from his mate. 

"Tell me what you want. Say that you need me. Say that you want me." He holds her gaze. Gwyn parts her lips, and in a breathy whisper, says. "I want you. I need you."

The young Illyrian thrusts into her, both gasping at their first connection.

"You are everything to me, I already told you so. Of course, I will come back. We will have a future together." 

He pulls out slightly, then surges into her with one hard thrust. Gwyn cries out, spine arching, head thrown back. Her cunt squeezes his cock — they are made for each other, equals, two halves of the same coin. They have always been meant for each other. 

Balthazar grinds his teeth to keep from fucking into her like he has gone mad, but his vision and mind is clouded by sheer desire. That is the bond's doing, this primal need and fire awakening inside of him, making him let go of the restraints he has on himself.

"Slower?" he breathes, trying to still a little, hips move a little more gently against her. "Softer?"

"No," Gwyn pants out, eyes fluttering open slowly. She smiles at him. 

Balthazar strokes behind her leg and then lets his hand travel up the curve of her ass, loving the way it feels in his palm as he squeezes it. He drags his length out of her before slowly pushing back in.

"No," she says again, eyes now wide open, pupils dilated. "I want you harder. Faster. Fully unleashed. Don't hold back. I know what the mating bond does, especially what it does to males." She brings her hands up and cradles his face. "I am your mate, and I want you to…take me exactly like an Illyrian warrior would…fuck his mate."

Her saying those filthy words breaks all the restraints he has had on himself. The damn breaks and he is gone, lost in the delirious pleasure this female brings him. 

He has her consent and so he drives into so hard he makes her body slide up the bed. Gwyn grabs the sheets next to her, knuckles turning white from how tightly she is holding onto. 

He drags his cock out and starts fucking her harder, relishing in the way her breasts bounce with every drive of his hip. Gwyn is panting, moaning, and writhing beneath him. 

Balthazar dips down to lick a line over the slope of her breasts, and a little mewl escapes her lips. "Mine." He takes her nipple into his mouth, flicks his tongue over it. "Say you're mine."

"You're mine, Balthazar Attas. All mine. My mate. My equal." The last part she screams when the tip of his cock hits some deep part inside of her. "And I am all yours. My heart. My mind. My body is. It is all yours."

Balthazar's hands slide under her butt, lifting her the slightest bit. He is thrusting into her from a different angle now, making it even more pleasurable for her and Gwyn falls apart. "Yes!" she cries out and sees specks of white and black spark in front of her vision. 

He lifts her by her waist, dragging her up his cock and then slamming her back down. Her hands perch on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, leaving crescent-shaped markings there. He will wear them with pride the next day. "Mark me, my little River-nymph. Let them all see who I belong to, that I am fully and utterly yours!" Forgotten is the worry about having her here. He will protect her, always. She won't be harmed. Never again. 

Gwyn moans in answer, rocking her hips against his, riding him. 

"You feel so good," she cries out. She herself is surprised that she managed to get out the words words, to form a coherent sentence even though it is not an answer to what he said. Nothing makes sense anymore, there is only Balthazar on her mind — his body, his hands, his cock, his scent, how he feels, his noises. Everything else is a blur, and eroded by desire and passion.

Hearing the slapping of their skins against one each other, his groans mingled with her moans, and the ragged breaths of both of them is most definitely the dirtiest song she's ever heard. Accompanied by the bed creaking in protest under their ministration, all these sounds become a perfect, filthy symphony that reverberates through Gwyn. 

In one swift movement he has her pinned to the bed again, and starts thrusting into her, hard and relentless. He slips his hand between them to play with her clit, and Gwyn's back arches even more, so much Balthazar worries for a second she might break. 

"Oh my..." she starts to cry out and a curse leaves her. Her head whips from left to right, and she reaches for him, nails scratching down his back. 

"Yes, yes. Don't stop. Never stop," she begs. He claims her lips in a searing kiss. 

"I would never." He rasps against her skin. "I will have you again and again and again. After the battle we won't leave this bed for weeks, Gwyneth. Making love and fucking. I will learn every inch over your body, memorise it until you are fully imprinted on my mind. More than you already are, my mate."

He drives his cock into her faster and harder, circling clit with his thumb, pushing her closer to the edge. She tightens around him, her whole body going tense. She is so close, Balthazar knows this, feels it, his walls squeeze him tighter. 

"Come for me," he whispers, beads of sweat coating his forehead. 

His siphons, the two on his hands, are glowing just like Gwyn's eyes and the bond, the golden ribbon connecting their souls. 

She moans, eyes clamped shut, breasts bouncing, looking beautifully drunk on love and delirious from desire. 

"Balthazar!" She cries out with nothing but bliss in her voice. The tidal wave of pleasure washes over her and hearing his name on her lips, tips him right over the edge with her. He pulses inside of her, and comes with a growl that makes the hut shake, and the cutlery in the kitchen rattle.

Slowly, carefully, he lets her ride out her high, each drag of his cock slower than the last. Her body shudders, and she exhales a long breath. "You're so perfect," she whispers, head lolling to the side, eyes closing, and a beautiful smile graces her lips. "So perfect for me."

Her chest still heaves when Balthazar lies down on top of her, head placed right below her chin. "No, you are. The most perfect female I could have ever hoped for. And I promise that I'll make it out alive. If it's only to see you smile again, to kiss those lips again and to spend more moments like this with you."

~~~~~~~ tag list: @a-frog-with-a-laptop @brekkershadowsinger @moonlightazriel @callmeblaire @headcanonheadcase @waternymphia @autumndreaming7 @devilsfoodcake22 @readercacau @sv0430 @bubybubsters @cyntia-ktn @honeysuckle-daydreams13

[alpydk]

AstarionxTav - Choices

Going to say now, this is very angsty. Probably some SA trauma triggers in there, but I'm honestly not sure how to use them so go in at your own awareness. Any tips and feedback are welcome as I'm really enjoying writing and would love to improve. I'll be honest a lot of this has come from me recently finishing the Astarion romance path and wishing it could have been dealt with differently. Especially from act 2 onwards.

Summary - Tav's reflection on their relationship with Astarion. Can Tav face their own trauma and allow themself to say no?

Ao3 link here

Not really. But I know it’s not what you want to hear. I know this dance all too well. The jokes, the deflection, the flirting. The use of your body to get what you want. And what is it you want this time? Company? A release? Protection from the horrors to come? I wish you’d just be honest with me, but then I know the weakness that comes with asking for help. So I won’t push you. I won’t question your actions. I’ll just nod and lose myself in you. Offer you my role in the games we will play. Both of us, a million realms away.

We will continue to travel together. I’ll offer myself to you most nights. A little blood, a small tug at your hair. A warmth we both long for but are too scared to ask for. We’ll play our parts and drip-feed our pasts. You’ll watch as I grow close to another but you won’t say a thing. You’ll lie awake at night wondering what I’m saying to him, thinking of my body pressed against his, but you won’t speak to me about it. You’ll continue to flirt, ask me about your looks, lie to me with love. But you’ll never be honest. And we will continue to dance, our bodies entwined, but our minds distant.

“If you bite me.” Her words are toxic. I feel my skin crawl. My shoulders tense and years of anger flush my cheeks. I look at you wondering what will you do. Will you submit like you used to? Like I do with you? The word no, never being able to be uttered for fear of what would happen. For fear of disappointing the other person, for fear of not being good enough, for fear of punishment. And yet right now you’re braver than me, you say no to her. No. That one little word that need not be explained. I look at you almost in shock and see the drow’s eyes on me. If you can say no, then maybe I can too.

That evening I approach you. My mind is a whirl. I know our pasts are so different and yet it seems so similar. You say you want to talk and for once I feel my defences drop. No more flirting, no more lies, you’re honest, and you confess. Easy, instinctive… I know. And I was wrong to let you use me. I should have said no from the start, I should have- Fall for you. More lies? I want us to be something real. I’m not sure but I can’t say no. I want you to be happy. I want at least one of us to heal, so I ignore my no again. I let my mind wander and tell you I care, I speak the words you want to hear hoping maybe I can believe them one day because I know that you need me. You pull me in and kiss me deeply. You need to be in control. You need to feel safe and make the choices.

We no longer lie together like we used to. Your trauma is so deep and you tell me of how you chose not to remember all the times when you gave your body away. And I respect your choice. I don’t force you. I let you kiss me and I let you say the things you do. You continue to call me beautiful in the same way you did when we met, each time my stomach turning that little bit more. You can say no, but I won’t. I’ll meet those twins and I won’t force you, instead, I’ll lose myself in them, just like I used to with you. My body being abused so my mind can rest.

You’re finally free. After all those centuries you’re free of him. Free to do what you want to do. And what you want is me. If only you had ever asked me about my past, had respected me, the way I had you. Maybe this would have played out differently. Maybe I wouldn’t keep making the same mistakes. You feel safe and seen and yet I am invisible. I say the words you want to hear. Always what you want. And in that graveyard, you take me again, just like you want to. And yet this time only one of us is a million realms away. The next morning you give me your thanks. You tell me I’m your partner, your equal. You tell me I saved you and I simply stand and smile. I’m happy for you. Happy that you are free, that you are slowly healing. And yet the kisses never change. I’m always at your mercy. Always worried you’ll discover my lie and I’ll hurt you more than anyone else ever could.

We complete our adventure and I say we could continue together and for the first time, you genuinely ask me what I want. Do I want this? I don’t. I consider saying no but I know what will come. You’ll shout, you’ll tell me about all you sacrificed, you’ll blame me and then you’ll leave. Leaving me not with relief or feeling of understanding, but with more guilt, more self-hatred. And so again I say yes. Always saying yes.

[nitefise-art]

Companion fic to my Zero comic, Part 2/?

--

To many scientists, the Great Crater of Paldea was a treasure trove of discoveries to be made and data to be analysed.  This was particularly so for biologists.  The Crater’s age and relative isolation from the rest of the region had resulted in the development of an enormous collection of unique flora and fauna.  Or so Clavell understood.  Jacq loved going on about biodiversity, but there was only so much taxonomy talk one could digest in one sitting.

Seeing the environment up close and personal once again, however, gave Clavell some fresh appreciation for his colleague’s ramblings.  No matter how many times Clavell went to Area Zero, the sight of cascading waterfalls over untamed vegetation never ceased to put him in awe.  How many million sunsets had those sheer cliffs witnessed, untouched, and how many more were yet to come?  Surely mother nature took inspiration from paradise, when it formed Area Zero right in the centre of Paldea.

In that moment, Clavell felt small.

But only for a moment.  There were students he had come to fetch.

The outer walls of Research Station 4 were more tired than Clavell remembered; although, in fairness, one could probably say the same thing about him.  More alarming was the rate at which tera crystals had sprouted in the vicinity.  Station 4 had always been subject to greater tera activity, even when Clavell had worked down here all those years ago.  But never had he imagined that the crystals might threaten to swallow the building whole.

As the door slid open and the glow of the crystals streamed past him into the empty station, Clavell stepped cautiously, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark.  As he had feared, tera crystals had invaded the interior of the station too.  Papers were strewn across the floor, which itself looked like it was long overdue for a good mop. A cylinder lay over a broken pipe. All was silent, save for the grunt from Oranguru, who informed Clavell that he could sense recent activity.

The children have been here.  Fine.  As much as he wanted to examine the place top to bottom (it looked like something had gone on a rampage), he needed to move on.

But then, a grainy voice spoke to him from above.

“Greetings, Director Clavell.  I was not expecting you.”

Clavell started at the sudden noise.  He did not consider himself a man of nervous disposition by any means, but he could not shake off a feeling of unease even once the voice had ceased to speak.  There was no mistaking that familiar timbre, and yet, why did it sound so foreign?  

“Turo?” he called, slightly louder than necessary.  “…Is that you?”

“Please do not venture any further, Director.  I do not wish to endanger your safety.”

Clavell did not at that moment give a Skwovet’s behind about endangerment to his safety.  Who was Turo to talk of safety when he had, presumably, just opened the Zero Gate to a group of children?

“This isn’t time for enigmas, Turo.  Where are my students?”

“Based on my observations, the students are well equipped to handle themselves.”

And was he not?  What kind of joke was this?

“I am sorry Director.  It is time for me to go.”

“Turo, wait!  Turo!!”

This time, the ceiling did not respond. Clavell stared into the darkness in bewilderment.  He would be the first to admit that it was not uncharacteristic of Turo to leave one train of thought unresolved once his attention had been captured by another, but only to a degree.  What could possibly be so urgent?  Surely the students couldn’t already be—

Clavell’s own train of thought was interrupted when Oranguru let out another grunt and pointed at the rubble.  On closer inspection, Clavell realised that he was not pointing at the rubble at all, but the previously unnoticed door behind it. This was rather inconvenient.  Clavell’s highest priority now was to get to the Zero Lab as quickly as possible; at the same time, he knew Oranguru would not veer him off course for a mere trifle. With a sigh, Clavell did as was suggested, making a mental note not to be detained too long.

If he had been more prescient, Clavell would have left the adjoining chamber alone.  Indeed, he would have stayed far, far away from the depts of the Crater entirely, if not for Raifort’s news that morning.  Turo had always had an obsession with Area Zero, one that, in all honesty, Clavell considered erred on the side of unhealthy, and he had not been afraid to say as much.  But in the end, no matter where their conversations led, he always left his friend to his own decisions.  As long as Turo was safe and happy, as far as Clavell was concerned, so was he.  After all, who was he to pronounce on the worth of another man’s treasure?

But despite the soundness of his convictions, as Clavell entered the next room, his legs slowed, his jaw slackened, and what he thought he knew were immutable truths suddenly threatened to collapse around him. The faint glow of tera crystals trembled in his eyes.

Before him, suspended in a vat, was the body of his dear friend, Professor Turo.

[itsthestutterforme]

“The Rogue Prince” (2/2)

Prompt credit @promptful : “Speak. Now.” “Is this what you wanted?”

Notes: GIF is not mine, credit to the owner, all mistakes are my own, sexual themes (overstimulation, p in v penetration, degrading)

—

“Is there a problem?” The king adds. “No, Your Grace. I’m just in shock is all. I may need to sit down.” Daemon chuckles lowly when you said the word shock.

Your brother pulled you a seat, which you sat all of a minute before the maester bursts in. By that point, your adrenaline wore off and you were lightheaded. Your brother had to carry you back to your dormitories to treat you there, where you slowly fell unconscious.

Your eyes slowly peeled open and you looked around the room through squinted eyes. The sun seemed even more blinding than usual. The room was silent except for the soft sound of wind whistling outside. You make an effort to toss the blankets aside when a sharp pain shoots up your back.

Gently lifting your undergarment gown, you touched your back and cursed when you felt the wire stitches. You spied the cup of tea and picked it up for a smell test. It smelled like poppy to which you took a sip, pleasantly surprised that the tea was still warm.

With time, you finally mustered the energy to scoot to the edge of bed and stand. Using the bed frame to stabilize you, you groaned soft at the pull of your stitches with the slightest movement. You needed to get out of this room. You needed to talk to Daemon and figure why he wanted you dead.

A navy blue dress was laid out for you but an overwhelming need to pee took your priority. You limped slowly over to the door to use the lavitory. Just as you open the door, Daemon passes by. Will you look at that?

You grabbed him by his vest and pulled him inside. The door closed when you push him against it and applied pressure to his throat with your forearm. “You ordered that hit to kill me, why?” You asked, his light brown eyes twinkled with amusement. “Speak. Now.”

“You would be executed for treason if the king heard about this,” “Then at least I would die honorably. Answer the question.” You demanded. “I heard that you were a distinguished fighter. I had to see for myself.” His throat vibrated against your forearm. “There were millions of ways you could have gone about that. I could have died.”

“Anyone else would have died. Tore five men apart like they were candy and came back with a hand. I must admit, I was impressed.” “I have no care for what impresses you,”

He grips your hand and swings you around like a rag doll to trade places with you. You wince and let out a soft groan at the pressure on your stitches. Though it was a groan of pain, it send a pulse of warmth through Daemon’s body. He pins your hands next to your head, liking when you tried to push him off of you.

He liked seeing you squirm. But he absolutely loved seeing you angry. “Do you know how long the maester said you would be unconscious?” “No,” “Three days,” “Three days? How long has it been then?” “Four hours. Looks like you were eager to wake up.”

You glared up at him, he tightens his grip when you attempted to tug away. No matter how tight he gripped you, you wouldn’t stop fighting. You rolled your eyes when he laughs in your face. “Fuck you,” he leans in so close you could taste him your tongue and you hated to admit it, but that excited you.

He locks the door as he says, “You may have too much fire for your kingdom. But it’s not too much for me.” You sucked in a breath when his lips graze yours. He was taunting you.

Your heart jumped when you heard a loud thud of someone running into the door. “Why is this door locked? Who’s in here?” Your brother calls. “Yes, I’m getting changed.” “Oh, you’re awake! Great! Are you well enough to stand?” “Yes,” “Lovely, I’ll wait until you’re out so we can talk.”

Your eyes widened in fear. What’s your brother going to think when he sees Prince Daemon and you in a compromising position. Daemon smiles at you, glancing down at your lips once last time before letting go. He escapes through a door behind the library and your mouth fell open. He’s had access to you the entire time..

**

You wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face. Whenever you ended up passing each other in the hall, he would look over at you. Which you returned the favor with a glare.

The banquet was finally here after all the hard work. You sat across the table from Daemon, making sure not to acknowledge him. That was, until a Lord asked you to dance. He flashed his pearl white teeth when you slowly met his gaze, unsure if he was talking to you or not. “It would be my pleasure,”

You slid your hand into his and he led you to the dance floor. He slides an arm around your waist and links his remaining hand with yours. He sways softly to the music to catch the rhythm before moving a step forward. He went back to the middle then took a step back.

You looked up at him shocked. “You know salsa?” “I do,” he says proudly. “I visit your kingdom often. The culture in unlike here. It’s more familial. Less tension.” “That’s very true. I’m glad you like it.” You let out a squeak of surprise when he dips you and slides a hand up your inner thigh.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers into your ear and you laughed nervously, gripping his hand before it slips under your undergarments. That’s all Daemon had to see. He stood from his chair and travelled down the stairs.

He made his way through the crowd of people dancing. You narrow your eyes at the Lord. “I believe it’s time for my leave,” “No, I don’t think so, Princess. Not until I have a taste.” He pulled you upright and his hands tightened on your hips. You opened your mouth to threaten him when you heard Daemon’s voice from your left side.

“If you value you breathing, I suggest you disperse,” Daemon says, his burning stare never leaving the man. You pulled away from the lord with little to no resistance. The Lord tries to walk away but Daemon caught his hand and pulled him back to whisper something in his ear.

You weren’t sure what it was, but the way his skin turned pale before your very eyes when Daemon pulled away, tells you that you didn’t want to know. Thank you, is what you wanted to say, but instead something else came out. “I didn’t need your help,” “Would you believe me if I said I saved his life?”

“How exactly did you do that?” “An intricate threat is less violent than chopping off the man’s hand don’t you think?” “Well maybe he shouldn’t have felt entitled to what’s between my legs.” You whispered the last bit and he laughs. For a moment, you forgot where you were. You met your brother’s confused gaze. You could read how the hell did that happen on his face.

“Care to dance, Princess?”

**

Get a grip, Y/N. He’s just a man. A tall, lean, mischievous man with flawless, silver that has become a shadow over you. You hated him. He nearly killed you, so why were you walking to his dormitories? You knocked on his door. You were surprised that there were no guards posted at his door.. unless he knew you were coming.

That cunning bastard. “Enter,” he calls, closing his book when he realizes it was you. “What do I owe the pleasure, Princess Y/N?” He moves fluidly from his seat and closes the space between you. “It’s awfully late. I would hate to think that you were coming by for a late night fuck,” he tilts his head at you in amusement.

You took a step closer to him, your chin nearly came into contact with his chest. His chest was exposed under the open buttons. You reached out and trailed your finger between the pecks of his chest. “What if I am?” “Well it took you long enough,” he takes a step away from you and opens his arms, challenging you.

Your chest heaved as you held eye contact with him. You could cut the tension with a knife. Closing the gap between you, you tore his shirt down the middle and walked him into the chair he was just sitting in. You untied your dress and tugged it over your shoulders.

He wastes no time pulling you into his lap. He squeezed your sides and scraped his teeth along your breasts, earning a moan from you. You shudder when he drives his hardening dick up against your clothed core. He tears your undergarments off your shoulders and it bunches at your waist while you pulled his pants down his legs.

You pumped him in your hands before sinking on him. The both of you lean your head back at the sensation. Your walls expands around him as he ruts his hips up in you. You whimpered at his roughness, rolling your hips to match his thrusts. He moans against your neck and squeezed your breasts in his hands.

You yelled out when he bit down on the swell of your breasts, leaving teeth marks on them. He does it again and you retaliate by sinking your nails into his chest, making him wince. “Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like a desperate whore?” He whispers in your ear. You were teetering towards the edge and held onto his shoulders for dear life.

“I asked you a question,” he slams into you as a warning, knocking the wind out of you. “Yes, I’m a whore.” “My whore,” he corrects. “I’m your whore,” you choke out when the tip of his dick prods into a gspot. His breathing grew heavier. He tears off the rest of the undergarment and his eyes dropped to where your body were connecting.

“Fuckin hell, your cunt is taking me so well.” He was drunk on the sound of skin slapping and your wetness dripping down his dick, he slows his movements. You gladly took control.

You grind down on him at the perfect angle that stimulated him deliciously. You picked up on that when his chest surged forward and he squeezed your hip. “Fuck,” you groaned when he leans forward, swirling around the sensitive nub.

Your thrusts were short and fast as you rode through your orgasm. You rolled your hips and clenched around him faster and harder until he came with a groan.

A strand of hair freed from his gelled, short hair. The two of you catch your breath for a moment, your bodies still connected. This situation called for intimacy but you know you weren’t going to get it. “I shall be going then,” you said softly, abruptly standing from the chair.

“You think you’re going to waltz into my room, fuck me like that and then leave me like a whore?” You quickly caught on to his teasing game. “You do you think you’re calling a whore?” You cross your arms over your breasts and he stands from the chair.

You stare directly up at him and he gripped your chin harshly. “You’re going to lay on my bed while I have my way with you throughout the night. You will leave in the morning when I say. Do you understand?” Ah, so you don’t just want a late night fuck. You want a late night stand. How desperate of you.”

“I’ll show you desperate,” a chill rolled down your spine when you noticed his eyes darken.

[beantothemax]

First day of school was fine. Surgically extracted the angst from this fic cause I am NOT writing that!!!!!

Most of Lyn's little makeshift army had returned home. They were always happy to fight tyranny, but now with Lundgren gone, they had little reason to stay. As Lyn said farewell to her friends, she kept wondering about one of them.

They weren't quite friends, Erk was very distant, but she still cared about them.

"Where are you going now?" she asked.

"Visiting my sister. I just got a letter from some asshole who says he's her boyfriend, apparently she's gotten herself sick," Erk rolled her eyes.

Lyn stared at them for several long moments before exclaiming, "YOU HAVE A SISTER!?"

"Parents, too. I'm a biological creature, of course I have family," Erk replied.

Lyn followed Erk and asked at least a million questions as they packed but she was greatly disappointed by the short, unenthusiastic answers.

"I should be off," Erk finally said.

"At least let me escort you to the harbor!" Lyn insisted.

Erk wanted to decline, they truly wanted to make the journey alone but sighed and said yes, in fear that a potential employer may dislike them when they returned.

Big mistake though. Just before Erk could board the ship to Magvel, Lyn insisted on giving her a great hug.

"And take this Sacaean candy! If your sister is sick, this will help her recover," Lyn smiled.

"I'll be sure to give it to her," Erk mumbled.

She boarded the ship and reluctantly waved goodbye to Lyn.

Next stop: Renais castle.

- - -

Artur knew nothing of spider bites and wrote what Lute told him to.

"It's life threatening, I may die," she had said with an unchanging tone and expression, "If I kick the bucket, record all my symptoms and their progression- well, it won't matter if you do because I won't be able to continue my research."

"Lute! Don't say such things, I'll do everything I can to help you," Artur insisted with tears in his eyes, but she dozed off once more.

She had been asleep for just shy of two days, occasionally waking up, but for no longer than some minutes at time. It allowed her to drink, eat, take medicine, and say sarcastic, insensitive things to her friends who worried for her, but little else.

After some days with very little progress, an extraordinarily loud banging on the door awoke her.

"Leave me alone!" she hissed, retreating under the covers.

Artur rose and opened the door, seeing only a young mage who was quite a bit shorter than him.

"Could you please quiet down?" he requested.

"Are you Artur?" they asked plainly.

"Umm... Yes?"

"Step aside," she opened the door wider and walked in.

Artur quickly closed the door behind her so that no light would come in, before returning his attention to the mage.

"Excuse me, you can't be here," he said.

"You wrote me a letter."

"When?"

They pulled the envelope from their pocket and handed it to Artur before shaking Lute awake. He read the first line and finally realized this was the Erk that Lute had mentioned. She never said how short or inconsiderate they were.

"Stop being lazy, you'll be fine, you big baby," Erk muttered.

"Erk!?" Lute yelled.

She sat up suddenly and hugged them tight. Truly, she looked like death. Her skin was pale and grey, eyes hardly open with exhaustion.

She hated being sincere, hated telling people she loved them and especially hated doing it in front of other people, but Lute was the exception. Her dear big sister had been the only one to advocate for her when she said she wanted to study abroad and she had always been there when there was a problem.

When their parents didn't understand Erk's new identity, neither did Lute, but she tried her best for her beloved sibling.

"Sorry I couldn't be here sooner, I had to help overthrow a false marquess. Also, I brought some Lycian medicine, an Etrurian spell book and some Sacaean candy," Erk muttered.

"You leave Magvel once and come back spoiling me," Lute chuckled but the strain made her cough.

Erk let go of her and placed her back on the bed. They looked through every inch of their bag, placing all the medicine on the night stand. While they searched for cough drops, Artur sat silently in the corner. He didn't wish to intrude upon this reunion as Lute said she hadn't seen her darling little sibling in ages.

"You overthrew a marquess?" Lute asked in her weak, hoarse voice.

"Kind of. A man tried to kill his brother, the actual marquess and his estranged granddaughter to take the position for himself," Erk muttered.

"I bet you showed 'em who's boss."

"I did."

They found the cough medicine and poured a spoon of it, holding it to Lute's lips, "This tastes really bad," they warned.

Lute grimaced the moment it touched her lips, but she drank it all.

"My little sibling is all grown up," she smiled.

"Not according to lord Pent, he says I'm hardly qualified to be a mage," Erk snickered.

They laughed and caught up in a fashion Artur couldn't quite understand. They seemed to mock each other, calling each other horrible names but laughing through it all. Erk was in the middle of a story about an obnoxious pink haired girl when Lute yawned one last time before nodding off.

"We should let her rest," Erk said.

Artur followed close behind when she left.

"Are you two upset with each other?" he asked.

"No, why do you think that?"

"You kept insulting each other."

"...Have you no siblings?"

"No."

"That explains it," Erk smiled.

They talked little while Artur showed them to a guest room. She lay down her bags before he hesitantly asked, "Do you think she'll be okay? With the spider bite, I mean."

"She'll be up and walking again in a day or two, those things are rarely fatal. She's just being dramatic," Erk said.

"She usually downplays her injuries though..." Artur thought, "Do you think it's because she wanted to see you?"

"Huh?"

"She said it's been almost three years since you were last home, maybe she saw a chance to see you again and took it."

She thought of the possibility and shrugged, "Maybe."

No one in the family had ever been big on showing affection, but she supposed so much time apart could change that.

"I might stay a while, my teacher was going to give me a break anyway and I'm curious about this 'war of stones' that took place in my absence."

oh erk you are most definitely a creature.

lute going ‘hey if I die write down how I die’ and IMMEDIATLY conking out as artur is just

is fantastic. ten outta ten

AND JUST. WEGH. THEMMMMMMMMMMM… MY SILLY OURPLE MAGE GIRL BESTIES…. AUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!