#I would certainly keep my distance if I saw one but you should with any wild animal

[moonydustx]

A not so funny story

requests | mastelist

Summary: With Uta controlling everyone and the marine attacking, you needed to contain an unconscious Law who was looking to join the fight. Now, you need to deal with the consequences of him finding out about this.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: blood, Law hurts Reader (not on purpose), they both love each other, but they are idiots who don't know how to talk. Law doesn't know how to express his feelings in this one. Angst, kinda fluff/happy ending.

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: I just saw the movie Red and the idea came to my mind. I need to shake off the rust and get back to writing, I thought it would be a good solution. Despite being linked to the film OP Red, there may be some things that differ from the canon.

For those who haven't seen the film, a spoiler-free context: in the film, we see a singer called Uta, who Bepo is a fan of and, together with Law, go to the show. Problems happen, she puts everyone to sleep and with her power, she manipulates these sleeping people to fight with other people who want to stop her.

italics apply to flashbacks and thoughts

Part 2 | Part 3 (NSFW)

The cold stone beneath you contrasted with your hot, sweaty body. You could feel the wounds burning on your body and if you reached out your hand, you could find the cause of them, your captain.

In the distance, you could hear someone calling your name and it didn't take long for Penguin to appear in your field of vision.

"Are you okay?"

"He gave me a hard time, but I'm fine. And you?" You grumbled, sitting up and taking in your surroundings. Apparently everyone had gone back to sleep.

"We're tired but fine. You're bleeding, do you need any help?"

"Everything is fine." You stood, with his help. "We need to get them out of here, I doubt the marines will miss the chance to catch so many pirates gathered in one place. At the very least, this will end in a fight."

You chose to help carry Bepo back to Polar Tang. Even though he was big, sharing the weight would be much easier than carrying Law alone. As soon as you entered the submarine, you disappeared from sight, leaving all of Uta's fight behind.

"Do you guys need help? I can see some pretty bad injuries from here." Ikkaku approached, already stopping the blood on your forehead. "Are they both okay?"

"We should take them to the infirmary and keep them under observation." you warned, seeing two other crew members carry them out of sight. "Can we get away from the fight?"

"Yeah, off their radar." someone answered you in the background.

"Perfect, keep us at this depth, keep an eye on the radios, any sign of change, if Law hasn't woken up, you look for me." You leaned against one of the tables, trying to ignore some of the pain in your body.

It was supposed to be just a quick show, at least that's what Bepo had said. Unfortunately for Law, he ended up being the polar bear's requested companion.

"Sure you don't want to change places with me?" Law appeared next to you, while you finished cleaning the kitchen.

"No captain, I'll be right here, with my duties." You smiled at him and, despite being frustrated, he let out a sideways smile.

"You know that I'm the captain right? That I can give the order and you have to go and I don't."

"You wouldn't be so mean, would you?" you asked indignantly and on one of the few occasions, you heard him laugh, even if it was low tone. "Captain!"

"I'm kidding. Just keep an eye on everything, okay? Don't let Shachi and Penguin cause any trouble."

"Yes, sir. And you, enjoy the show."

You were almost regretting not accepting the proposal. Law would certainly be much better at containing you and preventing you from getting into a big fight than you would be doing the opposite. But you liked the idea of ​​him trusting you.

"Everything is alright?" Ikkaku took you out of your reverie, noticing your body slightly bent and the blood falling on your forehead.

"Try holding back a furious Trafalgar Law from wanting to get into a fight and tell me if that's okay." You laughed, even though it took some of the air out of you. "Just a few bruises, nothing major."

"Come on, I'll help you take care of this." Ikkaku gently pulled you by the hand.

"Boys, do you deal with them?" you asked and they both nodded. "If Law wakes up, don't say anything to him about our little fight."

"You mean, about the big fucking beating he gave you?" Shachi teased you, earning a push.

"Exactly. He has bigger problems to worry about than dealing with this."

You and Ikkaku headed towards the dorm you shared. Your friend made a point of supporting you at every step, even if you insisted it wasn't necessary. She sat you down on the bed and grabbed a small first aid kit hidden on one of the shelves.

"Why not tell the captain?"

"Outch" you mumbled with one of the stitches she had on your face. "I have a feeling he's not going to like that we got into this fight without his presence."

"I think he'll be more resentful that you were the one who held him back." You laughed at her silly observation, then grumbled with another needle. Damn fight. "Don't act stupid."

"What you mean?"

"I'll let you choose. Between you being the only one who can steal books from him without him complaining or about every time we disembark, you having to be on his side. Should I mention that time he freaked out because Kid wanted to take you to the crew from him?" she laughed to herself, at her own memory. "What do you need to see that he likes you too?"

"And who said I like him?"

"Okay, you still want to keep hiding your feelings for him, just hide it better." she laughed again. It was clear to her - and anyone else who saw - that there was something between the two of you. You just prefer not to feed this illusion. "Still, I agree that he won't like all this one bit. Let's try to keep out of his sight."

Law was still trying to assimilate everything that happened. Uta's show had turned into a war scene and in the end, even he had become a puppet. That idea would haunt him for a long time.

Despite recent events, Polar Tang was quiet, too quiet. He could hear some buzzing, nothing he could identify. Another thing he couldn't place was you. The last time he saw you, he had tried to bargain for your presence at the show, even though he had asked to change places with you, he didn't think the idea of ​​going with you was bad. You'd probably hate the song, but he'd enjoy your sarcastic comments about any awkward situation. A small laugh crossed his lips when he thought about what you would say to see little Bepo.

At dinner, he observed Shachi, Penguin and Bepo, talking to each other. The concerned expressions denoted the seriousness of the matter, but that could come later. Even though he slept through it all, he still felt tired.

At lunch the next day, again, nothing from you. Ikkaku was also missing. It was impossible for the two of them to have disappeared together and without any justification. He tried not to think about the worst-case scenarios, but no matter how much he denied it, he wasn't such an optimistic person.

It only took a few seconds of your three companions stalling for him to know that you and Ikkaku were up to something or had already been up to something. He left them behind, following with firm steps to your room.

"I didn't see you two at lunch or yesterday at dinner, I wanted to know..." you two found Law leaning against the door of your room. His relaxed position disappeared in seconds when he looked at where Ikkaku's hand joined your forehead. "What happened?"

"Just a few scratches, nothing major." your colleague replied before you could open your mouth. She knew - actually, you weren't that good at hiding it - about your feelings and how easily you could wrap your head around your own words.

"Yeah, they're from yesterday, some scratches." you tried to complement, the captain's serious expression made it clear that that hadn't helped at all.

"Nothing much and that's why you haven't shown up since yesterday?" he grumbled and before he could continue his lecture, he felt his body being pushed forward, with Bepo, Shachi and Penguin falling beside him. "What the fuck?"

"We just wanted to know if you already know that she was the one..." before the bear finished speaking, the other two covered his mouth.

The grey eyes trailed from you to Ikkaku, to the group lying next to him, and back to you again. The small stress that was forming inside Law turned into concern when he saw the small trickle of blood dripping from your eyebrow.

It only took a few moments away for you to appear like that and he would never tolerate that, you didn't need to know about his feelings or how he was already thinking about taking revenge on whoever had done that, he would deal with it after taking care of your wound .

"Everyone out." you made to follow Ikkaku, stopping a few meters away. "Not you, I need to see this."

The door to the small room knocked subtly behind Law, who waited for a few seconds to approach you. The two of you already had a considerable height difference, but when you felt Law's cold, tattooed fingers on your chin, you felt even smaller. He turned both sides of your face, despite the cold touch, you could feel your skin burn beneath his fingers.

"You're warm, but I don't see any trace of infection." Not this one, you thought. "Give me the name?"

"Name?"

"Which idiot did this?" he replied without much patience, his fingers leaving your face behind.

"This is going to be a funny story." you laughed, stopping immediately when you saw him look deep into your eyes, his expression serious in an almost irritating way.

"Someone decided to hurt one of my crew. I don't think it's such a funny story. Who did it?"

"Captain of the Heart Pirates, Trafalgar Law." your answer didn't seem to catch him instantly, with each word that left your mouth, you could see him getting paler and paler. "I believe you already know, but Uta managed to control everyone who was asleep to attack the pirates and the marines and with that, you and Bepo were also controlled. The boys held Bepo and I had to deal with you, but everything is fine. "

"They told me about Bepo..." he seemed lost for words, taking a certain distance from you and leaning on the small table in your room. "So you restrained me, alone?"

"You, actually Uta, didn't have access to your Devil Fruit powers, it ended up being easier. After all, our mission was just to keep you two away from the navy." you explained, leaning on the opposite side to where he was, seeing his crestfallen expression. "Like I said, it's okay captain."

"Where else did I hurt you?" the question took you by surprise, making it difficult to hide your reaction. "I know my strength, I have a feeling it wasn't just that. I could see it myself, but I trust you, so please."

With your fists clenched and your gaze following your every step, Law could see your hand go to your ribs, along with a grumble, as you bent down to pick up a small cloth and fill it with something that smelled similar to alcohol. As much as he noticed you trying hard, he could see you limping. He watched you smear the contents on one of your cheeks and your arm, revealing some bruises.

You stopped in front of him, letting him analyze. Despite the pain throughout your body, Law's proximity was almost like an anesthetic. If he stayed there, you wouldn't mind spending the day under his gaze. Law took your arm, gently sliding his fingers under the bruise, watching you flinch in discomfort. His hands practically put your arm back in place and placed themselves on the zipper of your jumpsuit.

Your hands placed themselves next to his, pulling the device and opening the entire piece. Of all the times he had dreamed of touching your skin, none had felt like this. He liked to imagine how soft it would be, to think about how your body would shiver, to feel with his own lips every piece of exposed skin, while he heard you ask for more. All the purple spots he had dreamed of leaving on your skin were nothing like the one he saw. Thoughts would need to be put aside at that moment.

His hand knocked down one side of your jumpsuit, showing the large bruise on your rib, which made him hold his breath for a few seconds.

"What else?" his voice was barely audible. He knew there was more to it, but he didn't want to be invasive.

"Just this cut." you took off the other strap of your jumpsuit and let it fall below your waist, showing the wound on your thigh. It wasn't that big, but when you both looked at the place, you understood where all the warmth in your body was coming from. "Shit. It wasn't like this last time I looked." actually it was, you just wanted to spare him the worry.

You adjusted your jumpsuit, leaving the top hanging around your waist. Your eyes searched for Law's, but he seemed to be far away, even just a few centimeters away. For some time, he didn't say anything. His eyes followed one point you had shown and others, looking for other signs. His hands prostrated in front of his body, why had he done that? Why hurt you?

"Law?"

"I...I..." the words seemed stuck somewhere inside him. His hands placed themselves next to your face, a gesture you hadn't received from him yet. "I don't know how to apologize. Forgive me, I didn't want any of this to happen."

"No need, Law, really. I was doing what any of us would do, taking care of our crew, taking care of our captain."

Again the words seemed to have escaped him. He just wished he could hold you and apologize a thousand times, hold you there and heal every little part of you and never allow anything to hurt you again. Some conscious side of him screamed in the background that this wasn't anyone's fault, but the sound seemed so far away to hear, while the picture of what he had done was so close to him.

A few seconds passed, his hands were still on your face, while you just enjoyed the awkward affection you received. He didn't know how to deal with that feeling, it was a guilt like he had never felt. Along with a fear, a need to see you well. There were too many things to deal with and at that moment, he chose to be the most rational one.

"It's infected and may have broken something." Law let his medical side take control of the situation. "Room. Shambles."

Before you even noticed the blue dome surrounding you, the two of you had already been transported to the infirmary. You remained standing in your place as you watched the captain hurriedly walk around the room, collecting some materials and before you could try to get on the stretcher, the two of you were already being taken to another place.

The table full of books, the small window of the Polar Tang showing some little orange fish passing by outside, a cozy bed, even with the sheets spread out. That definitely wasn't your room. You watched Law leave the materials on the table and reach Kikoku. You saw the blue dome again, this time, you knew that he was using his powers to confirm that you had indeed presented all your injuries to him.

"I was worried about your rib, but apparently it was just the bruise. Now about your leg, I may need to redo those stitches and medicate you. I can't let the infection spread."

You knew he was nervous, bordering on anxious, but you had known him long enough to know that stopping him from treating you would be even worse. You had chosen to hide your injuries so that Law wouldn't feel guilty, now that he knew, you didn't have much else to do.

"Law." you called out to him carefully, as he prepared the medication. "Do you mind if I bathe first?"

"Sure, I mean, no problem. Just wait a second." He walked away from the table and piled up some things, which he handed into your hand. "Here's my towel, I also left some clothes in case you want to use them, if you don't want to, that's okay. I can ask Ikkaku..."

"This is perfect, thank you Law." you hugged the small bundle of clothes close to your body.

"Room." again, in a matter of seconds, you were at the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, but your leg is really hurt, you shouldn't force it while walking."

"Okay" unlike the time he had taken you to the infirmary, now he had transported you close to each other, which made the air disappear from your lungs. "Can you wait for me? I mean, you said I wouldn't I should force my leg and..."

"I'll be outside, just call me and I'll be here." Please call me, Law's inner voice practically screamed.

Your shower was much quicker than you expected. Just knowing that he was waiting for you outside made butterflies fight in your stomach. You gently dried your body and took the clothes he had given you. Something that looked like shorts - it might have been underwear, but you didn't worry about that right now - and a black button-down shirt. As soon as you button the last button, you can pay attention to the smell of the fabric. Something soft, woody, you wondered if that was his scent.

"Law?" All it took was a small call and he soon entered the bathroom. Not as discreetly as he expected, his eyes roamed your body. "Can you help me?"

"Of course" your feet left the floor, giving you a few seconds to assimilate that he had picked you up and carried you back to the room. He hadn't done this before, but you preferred to just enjoy the sensation, locking your arms around his neck.

With a few steps inside the room, he placed you lying on the bed, pulling a rod further to the side, only then did you notice the hanging IV.

Law bent down, reaching your arm level, cleaning it with a small piece of cotton. He looked at the wound on your leg. In silence, he cleaned the area and took some bandages, placing them across the entire length of the wound. The contrast between your warm skin and his cold hands was strangely comfortable. You wished they would last a little longer there.

"I think we can leave these stitches for another day, but I need you to take this medicine. It's an antibiotic, the infection is small, but I'd rather take care of it soon." He pulled the small needle, seeing your face pale. "I'm sorry darling, but it's the best option we have."

Darling.

That word would echo in your mind for a long time. The fear of the needle that was about to come into contact with your skin eased when you saw the care he took with each gesture.

"Just don't look, okay?" He waited for you to close your eyes. "Just a few seconds and that's it. You'll feel sleepy, but that's normal. As soon as you wake up, I'll bring you something to eat."

He got up and started to adjust the pillows on the bed, the ones that were around and under you. His hands rested around your body, his body was on top of yours, even without any immediate contact. It was inevitable not to get lost in his eyes, or see him do the same with yours. You would like to engrave that in your memory, forever.

"Are you comfortable?" his face still had the same tense expression from the first moment he found you in the room.

"I am, I promise." you replied, in a burst of courage, you brought your hand to his face, touching his cheek. "Law, what worries you so much?"

He walked away, sitting at the foot of the bed. You just straightened up so you could look at him. His tattooed hands took off his hat, fingers tangling against the dark strands.

"I can't deal with the fact that I did this. I did this to you. Of all the people that could have been there, I hurt you." he grumbled, turning so he could look at you. "You do not understand."

"Actually, I understand." your answer left him stunned for a few seconds. "But don't blame yourself, you didn't choose this, captain"

"I know, but at the same time..." he huffed, trying to find the right words, which scratched his insides every time he looked at your scourged face. "You understand me, huh? I mean, I don't just see you as a crew member and something tells me you don't just see me as your captain. And knowing that of all the things that could have happened, I hurt you. I promise compensate you for everything."

"About what you said, about what we see in each other." your thought was interrupted by a long yawn. "What should we do about this?" You made to get up, but the IV attached seemed to transmit drowsiness straight to your body. Your eyes were already starting to get heavy.

"That we can deal with this later. You took care of me, now it's my duty to take care of you. For that, you need to rest." His hands reached yours, giving a slight laugh when he saw you fighting with your own eyes, wanting to leave them open. "I promise not to hurt you again or let anyone else hurt you."

Before you fall asleep for good, you can feel his lips on your hand.

[moonlightspencie]

reader x spencer + best friends to lovers + angry love confession — hear me out. literally everyone on the team can tell they’re in love & they even realized before they did. maybe one of them has started going on casual dates (and they hate every minute of it bc it’s not the spencer or the reader) bc of this, either spencer or reader start distancing them self from the other because it’s just hurting them to watch that. when they kiss one says “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this” !!

okay it ended up being a tad different, but i still like the way it turned out!!! definitely still idiots in love lolll

pairing: spencer reid x reader

—————

“What about you, mama? You got any weekend plans?” Derek asked you, raising a brow.

You smirked. “Yeah. I got some plans.”

His eyes widened in question, waiting for some elaboration. Spencer looked up from his desk, secretly curious to find out what you’d be doing.

Emily grew impatient. “Well? Are you just going to leave us hanging?”

“I’ve got a date,” you said quickly, smiling to yourself as the team reacted.

“Ooh, who’s the lucky guy?” JJ asked, leaning in closer.

“Y’all don’t know him, I can almost guarantee that. My friend Hannah set it up.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, burying himself back in his paperwork. Derek noticed, not letting that reaction slide by without some jeering.

“What? You jealous, pretty boy?”

Everyone’s attention was drawn to Spencer as he glared at Derek. You particularly had interest in the reaction he had. He’d been extra prickly lately, and while part of you hoped he was jealous because you wanted him to care, you also kind of liked the idea of him being annoyed by your actions at least once this week.

“Why would I be?”

“Maybe cause I can actually get a date, for one,” you chimed in, receiving a light smack on the arm from JJ.

You merely shrugged it off.

“I choose not to date anyone who comes along.”

You scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, about to say something more when Derek broke it up, reprimanding you both for acting like ‘a couple of middle schoolers.’

“You started it,” you noted, leveling your gaze at Derek. “I was perfectly content ignoring his little huffy attitude.”

“I’m not being huffy,” Spencer said, staring you down.

“You have been all week.”

“No, I haven’t.”

You quirked a brow, giving him the ‘we’ll talk about this later’ look. He sighed, silently going back to his work. Everyone else decided that was about the time they should return to their own business, knowing better than to get in the middle of you two when you were mad at one another.

Near the end of the day, you decided to go and talk to Spencer about whatever was happening that was causing him to act the way he was. You started walking to his desk, though he abruptly stood and gathered his things.

“Spence,” you called as he tried to leave his desk. “Spencer.”

He ignored you. He really should’ve known you better than to do that. You followed after him, trapping him at last in the elevator.

“What is your issue?” you asked, your tone harsher than you intended.

He sighed hard. “I need to go home. I don’t have an issue.”

You stood in front of him, forcing eye contact that he was desperately trying to avoid.

“You ran away from me.”

“No—”

“Yes. You did, and everyone saw it happen so don’t even try acting like you didn’t.”

“Everyone knows your business already, what’s one more thing?”

You furrowed your brow. “Excuse me?”

The elevator dinged, and he started walking away from you. You pursued him quickly.

“Are you talking about earlier? You really think I was out of bounds to tell our friends I had a date?”

He stayed quiet, his jaw ticking as he pushed out of the doors. He was relentlessly trying to get away, but your willpower could certainly be stronger. You followed him into the parking lot, grabbing him by the arm when he tried getting further.

“Spencer,” you called out, clearly annoyed. “This is ridiculous. You’re going to talk to me about this now or we’re never talking again.”

He turned, staring at you for a few moments. He shook his head, anger on his features that looked deeply out of place.

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting like a toddler—”

“No,” he stopped you. “Why are you— You’re constantly going out. Why? You never did that before. Why now?”

You were taken aback, mentally and physically. You tried formulating an answer, though nothing quite provided a good cover-up for ‘I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I can’t stop thinking about you and I need to get over it’.

“Why do you care?” is what you settled for.

“I don’t know,” he exclaimed. “I just hate it.”

“Then why don’t you go find someone to date?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he said, matching the venom in your voice.

“Why not?”

“They’re not you!”

“Okay? Every person I’ve dated lately hasn’t been you and I’ve gotten over it,” you spit out, not quite realizing yet what either of you had said.

He geared up to yell back at you when his face morphed from anger to sudden confusion.

“Wait, what?”

You still weren’t quite sure why he looked so confused.

“If I can date someone and get over the fact it isn’t you, I’m sure you could manage the same,” you said quickly.

Oh.

“Wait,” you stopped. “What?”

“What do you mean they’re not me?” he asked, still questioning a little aggressively.

“What do you mean?”

His brain connected those remaining puzzle pieces pretty quickly from that point. His face dropped in shock, hands moving before his head could tell him ‘no’. He grabbed your arms to pull you in, hands holding to your face the second you were close enough, slamming his lips to yours. Your own shock faded quickly enough to kiss him back, your own hands grasping at his wrists.

You broke apart after several seconds, looking at him wide-eyed.

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, words practically tumbling from his mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, still feeling in the mood to argue.

“You didn’t either,” he shot back. “You started dating people.”

“Yeah, dumbass, I had to get over you at some point.”

He rolled his eyes, then settled them back on your face. He took you in, a light smile on his face betraying him.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You nodded. “Same here.”

Derek and Emily strolled out of the building, immediately spotting their two favorite idiots making out next to the government building in which they worked. Emily smiled, then looked at a shocked-but-excited-looking Derek.

She patted him on the shoulder. “You owe me twenty bucks.”

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[chukys-mouthguard]

Kinda Tempting

Genre: a big mixed bag of all the things

Word count: 4.4k

Featuring: Mat Barzal x female reader x Matthew Rempe

Warnings: cheating, secret relationship

Summary: you recently left your position as the media manager for the Islanders behind, along with your boyfriend Mat Barzal, for a position with the Rangers. And their new rookie Matthew Rempe causes quite the stir both on the ice and off

Author’s note: I rewrote this like 4 times…hopefully it’s good. This will be a little series, so things should pick up. I feel like establishing background and stuff is always hard. Hopefully you all like this? And I’m sorry I literally picked two guys named Matt, could I have made that any harder on me and you lol

If someone told you that you’d be working in the NHL while also dating one of the hottest stars in the league, both in skill and looks, you would’ve never believed them. But here you were. The head of the media team department for one of the biggest teams in sports, and also the girlfriend of none other than Mat Barzal. 

The two of you met during your first season leading the media department for the New York Islanders, and you made it your mission to get him to not hate doing the stupid challenge videos and dumb quizzes that every team made their players do. And by the end of that season he’d become a pro, eventually fessing up that he only enjoyed seeing you pop up with your iphone because he knew it meant an excuse to see you.

Now it certainly wasn’t a walk in the park getting the stamp of approval from the organization, but Mat reassured you he wouldn’t let you get fired over it. And they eventually came around to the idea, only for you to get a job offer from their rival New York Rangers 2 seasons later. Despite the move from Elmont to NYC only making your distance roughly 2 hours depending on the day, it had proven to be difficult on the two of you. Your schedules never the same, not even enough for phone calls or facetimes. Sometimes going months without seeing one another. 

Thoughts plaguing your mind on whether or not he still loved you, if he’d been seeing other girls behind your back. When you look as good as Mat Barzal it’s hard to imagine him not having tons of girls throwing themselves at him. You didn’t want to think of the worst, but you saw how other guys in the league made things work with their girlfriends, so why couldn’t he do the same with you. 

Luckily today was the stadium series game between the New York Islanders and the Rangers, meaning an opportunity to finally get to see your boyfriend after almost two months. And to say it was a big game was an understatement, you just hoped Mat would actually make time to see you, and reassure you that things were good between the two of you. 

You arrived to MetLife stadium a few hours early, the media grind keeping you on almost the same schedule as the players. Your first assignment of the day was documenting the debut of Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe, though looking at this guy you’d never guess he was a rookie. He’s 6 foot 8, literally towering over every guy on the ice, and probably off of it too. 

After he finished up a few interviews, you saw him making his way past the crowd of reporters, looking a bit lost as he scanned the faces around. You assumed looking for you since he’d be told ahead of time he had media content to film today. 

“You must be Matthew Rempe.” You walked up to greet him and he smiled down at you, “How’d you know?” Eyeing him up and down you rolled your eyes as if he was someone easy to miss or not notice. “Let’s see, all the headlines talking about a 6 foot rookie debuting for the Rangers, I’d say that was the giveaway.” The two of you laughed as you started down the hall, walking towards the Rangers tunnel that led to the ice. “I’m sorry I didn’t even introduce myself, my name is y/n. I’m the media manager for the Rangers, and unfortunately for you, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me this season.” 

The rookie simply smiling down at you as you two walked together, “something tells me I might be okay with that.” Fighting the blush that threatened to grace your cheeks, you continued on explaining what it is he’d be filming. He listed to you explain things somewhat, but then he sort of zoned out. Paying too much attention to your smile when you laughed, the excitement in your voice when you talked about your job. Not to mention he was taken aback at how beautiful you were. Your hair failing perfectly over your shoulders beneath your Rangers beanie. He was captivated by you, but tried to keep his cool. 

“Okay, so we are gonna do just a little introduction. Whatever you feel like saying, introduce yourself, tell us where we are, all that fun stuff.” Rempe quickly snapping back to reality, stopping at where the tunnel began to open up to reveal the stadium. He simply followed your lead, waiting as you took out your phone and cued him to start whenever he was ready. 

“Hey Rangers fans, it’s Matt Rempe here. Getting ready to make my debut at the Stadium Series here at MetLife. It’s time to bang some bodies and bring home a win!” He pumped his fists as he emphasized his final words for the camera, you signaling that was a great take. Next, moving over to the bench to do a couple sit down questions. 

“Perfect, you are really a natural Matthew. I’m impressed! It took some of the other guys years to get comfortable with doing all the media stuff.” He smiled as he stood up, once again towering over you. “Well you made it really easy, made me feel comfortable and all the nerves went out the window.” 

“Well good! I’m gonna go edit this now and we will probably have it posted within an hour, just in case you wanted to see it.” “Oh perfect,” Matthew began reaching into his pocket before pulling out his phone, “can you text me once it’s up?” You took his phone, not thinking anything of it, you had plenty of his teammates phone numbers. It becoming a thing for guys to want to send embarrassing clips of each other for their group chats. “Sure thing, there you go! Shoot me a text so I have your number and I’ll get you the link as soon as it’s up.” 

You smiled as the two of you headed up the tunnel, some of the islanders players making their way out to see the ice. The second you saw your boyfriend’s face walking toward you, all of your professional game day demeanor went out the window and you took off running.

As you took off up the tunnel, Matthew was a bit confused, not realizing what was going on, he continued walking as his eyes followed you. Soon seeing you jump into the arms of Mat Barzal from the Islanders. His heart sunk a bit, of course she’s not single, he sighed to himself as he pulled out his phone. Trying to not seem so awkward when he walked past the two of you kissing. Flashing a smile when you mentioned that you’d text him after you finished editing the things you two just filmed. 

Why was he so shocked to see a beautiful girl like you dating someone? Maybe it was shocking that you were dating one of the top guys in the league, who also happens to be on one of the Rangers rival teams. He’d felt a bit foolish for thinking that a girl like you would not only be single, but ever give him, a rookie, the time of day like that. Heading into the locker room, he threw on his headphones and started to get zoned in for the game. 

 It had been about a month since you’d seen Mat, and you couldn’t contain your excitement. He smiled at you as he braced for your hug, cutting it short before giving you a quick kiss. “Mat, come on, it’s been almost two months. Aren’t you happy to see me?” He nodded to his teammates to walk without him as he stayed back, “yeah of course I am, but I’m also trying to get focused. I’m sorry I’m not jumping up and down like you.” His laugh caught you off guard, as almost if he was making fun of how excited you were to see him. 

“Sorry for being happy to see my boyfriend. Well go get focused, I don’t wanna be a distraction to you” Dropping his hands you’d pushed past him, doing your best to hide any emotions you had and ignore the feeling of just wanting to cry. 

“Y/n, babe come on don’t be like that!” 

Mat stood in the tunnel yelling after you, but he didn’t bother to chase you. Knowing it wasn’t the time or place, though when was the time and place for you two anymore? 

Finding a warm area tucked away at the stadium, you took out your laptop and started editing, anything you could do to get your mind off of Mat and how annoyed you were. . 

Beginning to edit the footage you took of Matthew, a smile crept across your face. Everything about Rempe was infectious. His thick Canadian accent as he spoke made you laugh. The little phrases and things he’d say when he got excited about the game and this opportunity. Pulling out your phone, you shot him a text, not sure if he’d respond since he was probably getting warmed up. 

“Soooo, when is it considered too early to make Matthew Rempe, let’s bang some bodies merch? Lol” 

Sitting in his stall, Matthew heard a quick ding over his music, slightly cursing at himself for not turning his phone on do not disturb. He had been getting tons of texts from friends and family about his debut, and while he appreciated it, they were distracting for sure. He went to simply swipe the text away, figuring he’d respond later. But he stopped as he saw your name displayed on the screen. 

He chuckled to himself at the text, typing out a quick reply before heading off to stretch with some of the guys. 

“Ehhh, not sure how entirely appropriate the merch would be. People who weren’t in on it may think it’s like a sex joke or something.” 

Finally seeing a reply from Matthew you laughed out loud, quickly typing a reply before you put the finishing touches on your social media post. 

“Oh lord I can see the headline now, Rangers merch sales at an all time high after rookie proudly endorses banging bodies.”

As soon as you got your content edited and posted, you shut your laptop and got everything packed back into your bag. Deciding you were in desperate need of caffeine if you were somehow gonna make it to game time. The Rangers kept a stash of energy drinks in their locker room, half the time you swore just for you because you never saw the guys drink them. 

“Oh no, here she comes! She’s gonna ask us to do a tik tok!” Vinny Trochek calling out to the guys playing soccer and they all pretended to scatter. Being the media girl the loved giving you a hard time, but you knew it came with the territory. “Very funny Vinny, just wait until you see the embarrassing shit I’ve got of you ready to post!” 

Trochek making a face at you as you popped in the locker room to grab your drink. 

buzz buzz 

“You know, if you were sneaking in the locker room to try and catch a glimpse of me shirtless or something, you could’ve just asked ;)” 

Practically choking on your Celsius you wiped your mouth as you stared at the text you receive from Matthew. He truly was something else, his flirting not at all subtle. Though you didn’t mind, he was a ten for sure. Though you knew he probably was a player and had girls drooling over him. 

But after the not so warm greeting from your boyfriend, you welcomed a little flirting. 

Exiting the locker room you locked eyes with Matthew giving you a shit eating grin as you tried to hide the blush on your cheeks. He smiled to himself as he bit his tongue, turning his attention back to the guys as they finished up their game of soccer. 

The final horn sounded, ending one of the most exciting games you’ve seen in awhile. The Rangers somehow pulled out the win, coming back from down 3 goals to take the game in overtime. Rempe got his first fight in his NHL debut, and the media content you got from this game was endless. The thought of all the editing you’d have to do tonight buried in the back of your mind as you focused on trying to find something to eat in the catering area near the locker room. Lucky for you, some of the guys were always kind enough to set food aside for you, knowing you rarely ate when working the games. Not even by choice, but simply because you were responsible for catching anything and everything on camera and posting in real time. 

You munched on some french fries as you scrolled through the comments on your post of Rempe’s debut, laughing at all the girls drooling over him through their screens. Continuing your scroll you hardly noticed the scratched up knuckles reaching in to steal a fry. “Matthew Rempe how dare you!” 

He shot you a cocky grin as he tossed the fry in his mouth, “Sorry, I had to, you were asking for it.” Rolling your eyes you finished off the fries, then reaching for your bag only to be stopped by Matthew. “Here, as an apology for stealing a fry, let me carry this for you. It’s the least I can do.” Smiling softly you obliged, letting him hold the bag as the two of you headed towards the parking garage. 

“Oh, nice fight by the way. Didn’t feel like wasting much time huh?” He smiled proud as he shrugged, “Better to get it over with early, gets the nerves out you know?” 

As you approached your car, he pulled your bag from his shoulder. “Not seeing the boyfriend or anything?” Checking your phone, you’d never heard back from Mat whether or not he’d want to see you tonight. “Probably not, I’ve got a lot of editing to do and…” your voice trailed off as you tried to make up a believable excuse as to why your boyfriend couldn’t see you. To which Matthew saw right through, “I couldn’t help but notice the two of you earlier, trouble in paradise?” 

Letting out a huff you tossed your bag into your passenger seat as you laughed, “how much time you got Rempe?” An apologetic smile crept across his face as he saw you holding in a lot. He wanted to just hug you, let you cry if you needed to. He’d only just met you a few hours ago yet he felt like he was meant to. Like you needed him to come into your life and somehow make it better. “Well, my family is in town and I definitely have to see them. We are grabbing dinner. But, I can certainly make time later tonight?” Nodding your head you walked over to the drivers side of your car, Matthew offering a quick hug to you, sensing you needed it. Which you did, very much so. He closed the car door before leaning down and resting his arms on the frame as you started it up. “I’ll text you when I’m done with my family? Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky which was quadruple the size of yours, making you chuckle as you wrapped yours around it. “Don’t make me sit around my phone waiting for a text you don’t plan on sending Matthew Rempe.” 

He laughed as he walked away from your car, “you kidding? I’ve already got our conversation pinned in my messages!” Shaking your head you rolled up the window, pulling out of the garage and heading out on the traffic filled road for your drive home. 

As much as you loved your job, sitting on your couch and staring at the same repetitive clips of the Rangers for hours while editing really got old fast. Trying to fight your exhaustion you closed your laptop, pulling out your phone to try giving Mat a call. He texted you after the game, a half hearted apology that truly did nothing more than make you roll your eyes. 

Hey it’s Mat, I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.

Typical Mat, phone on do not disturb after a loss, and you probably won’t hear from him until later or even tomorrow if he’s really in a mood. It had unfortunately become the norm, and while you hated it, you couldn’t say much about it. You did sign up for this somewhat when decided to date a NHL player, and one who happens to be one of the top names in the league. He bears a lot of weight on his shoulders from his franchise, and it’s been taking a toll on him for the last year or so. Spilling over to affect your relationship, though he won’t agree. He thinks things are as good as they’ve ever been. Despite the two of you barely speaking, rarely ever seeing one another now, and we won’t even talk about the lack of anything remotely sexual. Not even the occasional nude could get Mat going, so you’d stopped trying to change him. Accepting that maybe this was who he was now, but never building up the courage to just walk away. 

The buzzing of your phone in your lap snapping you from your sad thoughts, as a smile now appeared on your face after seeing Matthew’s name pop up on your screen. “Thank you for calling y/n’s phone, how can I help you?” Matthew chuckled on the other end of the call, “I am really hoping that y/n is available and still wants to talk to me after the long day she had? I might even have dessert that I am sure she’d love right about now.” 

“You want to come over?” Your tone sounding a bit more harsh than you intended, just a bit shocked that he was offering to stop by versus just talk on the phone or text. “Oh, um, I don’t know. You seemed a bit down earlier, and I just felt like you could use some cheering up. Plus you said it yourself, I’m gonna have to get used to spending time with you so might as well get a head start.” 

Before he could finish his sentence you’d texted him your address, telling yourself to say fuck it and have him come over. You refused to sit and sulk over your boyfriend any more than you already had. 

“Sweet, I’m only like 15 minutes away. Me and the cake will be there soon!” You cackled into the phone as Matthew quickly regretted his words, “I meant like the dessert, not my ass or anything. Oh god! Look I’ll be there soon okay?” 

Embarrassed, he hung up while you continued your laughter. Packing up your computer and cleaning up your place a bit, not sure where your sudden nerves were coming from. It’s not like Matthew would be expecting a five star mansion to be hiding within your small NYC apartment. And before you could double check the clothes you’d thrown on the second you got home, a knock came at your door. The last thing you expected when opening it was Matthew to now be in gray sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair still somewhat damp from his postgame shower, looking even better than you’d remembered. To put in plainly, he looked hot. 

“I hope you like vanilla cake with chocolate frosting!” 

He beamed as he carried the cake inside, setting it on your kitchen island then taking in the apartment. Nodding in approval as you went to grab two glasses, offering water which Matthew kindly accepted. 

“So,” he started as he took a seat on your sofa, “cake first or did you want to tell me your life story to get that over with?” Grabbing the box of cake along with two forks, you took a seat next to Matthew before handing him the extra utensil. 

“How about both?”

“Okay so, why don’t you just breakup with him? I mean, I know that’s easier said than done, but you don’t seem very happy.” Playing with the hem of your sweatshirt as you finished telling Matthew the gist of your love story with Mat, and his reactions were all what you’d expected. “I don’t know, I mean, I love him. It’s not easy to break up with someone you love. And I keep telling myself it’ll get better.” 

“When? Once he wins a Stanley Cup and finally eases up a bit from his Mr. Perfect persona and attitude? How long is that gonna take?” 

He had a point, you truly had no clue when Mat would change and start being like himself again. You missed the karaoke nights with him and your friends, movie nights at your place, dinner dates, even just sleeping in the same bed as him. You missed him, but something tells you he didn’t miss you. 

“Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole. Hell, I just met you like 10 hours ago yet somehow I am in your apartment sharing cake and talking to you about your relationship troubles. I don’t know how we ended up here but I’m not mad at it.” A smile crept on your lips for the first time in the past thirty minutes as Matthew rested his hand on your thigh. “All I’m saying is, if you were my girlfriend, I would’ve sprinted down that tunnel today to hug you and kiss you. I would’ve come to see you after the game no matter if my team won the game or lost by twelve goals. You’re beautiful, funny, super fucking talented at your job, and from the few hours I’ve been around you, I can see how amazing you are.”

You hadn’t noticed yourself tearing up until Matthew reached out to wipe your cheek. “I’m not trying to make you cry, now I feel bad. Should I make you laugh?” He pouted his lips at you, doing his best to earn a smile. 

“Like being so for real, if I was your boyfriend and I got to see you today after like a month, we would’ve had to go somewhere private at that stadium cause there’s no way I’m not getting my hands all over you the second I see you.” 

Shaking your head you grabbed the forks and cake box from the table, walking them all to the kitchen as Matthew laughed at his words, though not denying them. “Well, as amazing as that sounds, I couldn’t even tell you the last time Mat did any of that.”

Matthew practically choked on his water as you rinsed off the forks, “what?”, then putting them aside to dry. “Don’t tell me you haven’t even been having sex with him, he’s your boyfriend y/n! Like…is he gay?” 

“Matthew Rempe!” 

“I mean, I don’t know,” he shrugged as he joined you in the kitchen, “I’m trying to wrap my brain around how a guy could be dating a girl like you, and not be even having sex with her. Like I get the not seeing each other as much because of being in two different cities, the limited phone calls and stuff, but going months and months without sex!? I’m not trying to cause a stir in your relationship or come across disrespectful, but I would one hundred percent not be able to go a month without getting my hands on you and- actually, let me stop myself before I say some things I shouldn’t.” 

Your jaw practically on the floor as he retreated, quickly sipping his water so he didn’t have to speak. “No, actually I think you should continue. I’m kinda tempted to hear this.” You leaned back against the counter as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, a smirk on your face as you could sense Matthew’s nervousness with you getting closer to him. He eyes you up and down from behind his glass before that signature cocky grin crept across his face. His hands now on either side of your waist as he looked down at you. 

Everything in you was telling you to stop, to not let your interaction with Mat lead you to do anything you’d regret. But hell you’ve been in this cycle for months. Constantly waiting for the day your boyfriend starts acting like your boyfriend again. And you were also a woman with needs. If a 6 foot hot man in your kitchen wants to gas you up and show you what you’ve been missing, how are you to say no to that?

“Well for starters, I’ve been trying my best to not stare at your ass with these little shorts you’ve got on. Not to mention keeping my hands off your legs, which I can’t believe you were hiding underneath your jeans all day cause wow.” To say you were enjoying his compliments was an understatement. 

“Anything else?” 

His fingers now brushing your hair back from your face as he could see your breath catch in your chest, you were nervous. He could see it on your face, your heart telling you that it wasn’t a good idea. But your body language telling him that you’d been missing this. 

“I didn’t come over to do this, or fuck up your relationship. I promise you that. And if you want me to stop, I’ll respect that.” His hand cupped your cheek as he waited for your sign to stop, but nothing came. 

“I don’t think anything you do right now could fuck up my relationship any more than it already is.” You smirked as his lips finally pressed to yours, the butterflies in your stomach bursting as you brought your hands to his hair, deepening the kiss as he picked you up, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist. 

A laugh escaped your lips as you saw how high you were off the ground in his arms, joking that he could help you be able to clean the top of your fridge from up there. Matthew shaking his head as he brought your lips back to his. Only to be interrupted by your phone buzzing on the counter. 

“Oh shit, boyfriend’s calling.” 

You rolled your eyes as Matthew handed the phone to you, only to silence the call and toss your phone back onto the island. 

“Guess I’m a little busy right now.” 

[bueckerslover]

dangerous women

matt x fem! latina! reader

warnings: drug deals, guns, car races mentions of injuries.

1

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matt’s pov:

it’s been a few weeks since i started working for y/n it’s nothing like i imagined i usually would get my orders from marcos her assistant it was rare getting orders from her, you’d be considered lucky if you got orders from her personally.

working for her was not like i’d imagined and i didn’t have a specific schedule of when to clock in or out it was basically getting a call to go to a certain location to pick up or drop things off.

but today was not like any other day, today i was requested to drive y/n to a hotel for an event, it was a fancy event meaning i had to wear a white button up shirt and black pants.

looking at the time i noticed i should start heading out to go pick her up. walking down i grabbed my keys next to the door.

“where are you going?” asked nick as he came out of the kitchen with a sandwich “work.” i replied not wanting to get questioned by my older brother “dressed like that? i don’t think so” exclaimed chris coming up the stairs “look im late i have to go” i scoffed heading out to the car.

-

“okay, before we go in i’m telling you now don’t speak unless you’re asked, don’t make eye contact with anyone, if i tell you to leave me alone with anyone do it.” she spoke as we were walking towards the entrance of the hotel “what? why do i have to leave you alone can’t i just stay there with you?” i questioned “oh matthew don’t ever question my ways of running these deals” she said as she kissed my cheek and walked inside.

god, she going to kill me one of these days. following after her around the venue i would keep my distance until she would call me over, that was until she looked extremely uncomfortable with one of the guys she was doing deals with i looked at her more frequently to make sure if i should stay here or go towards them until i saw her dress slightly move up to reveal a dagger hiding behind the fabric, that’s when i knew she had everything under control.

or so i thought he would look at her like she was just an object and i did not like that at all, i just stayed slightly away from them waiting for a glance of help, that’s when i saw it she was giving me signals with her hand. as i walked towards them the guy in front of her looked at me making her look at me.

“hey babe where were you?” she asked looking up at me with pleading eyes to help her out “i was talking to one of your clients honey, who’s this?” i asked facing the man who was giving me a dirty look “this is william, hopefully an upcoming client for my company” she said as she motioned to the man in front of us.

“that’s good, so william do you think you’d be a good fit for my fiancés company? i mean she takes her job very seriously and i want nothing but the best for her” she looked at me in shock but waited for his response “i certainly do think i’d be a good client for her company” he said confidently “well that’s what you think but at the end of the day it’s what i decide” she exclaimed

-

as the night went on she kept talking with people getting to know them or whatever dealers do at these events. like last time i kept my distance letting her do her job, at the other side of the venue gun shots were heard followed by panic screaming.

“where the hell is y/n blanco!” a man in all black shouted looking around i was pulled out of my thoughts by y/n grabbing my arm and running to the door “you have the car keys right?” she asked as we kept running bumping to others trying to escape as well “yea?” i replied slightly out of breath as we approached our car.

once we got into the car gunshots were being fired at it without a second thought i started speeding off towards the gates of the hotel.

“who the fuck is that!?” i asked while looking at the rearview mirror at the black SUV following us “if i’m not mistaken it’s this guy i sorta had a contract with but i broke it since the things in that stupid contract didn’t make sense making his company go bankrupt” she mumbled out of breath.

“so now he’s trying to kill us?!” i exclaimed looking at her then back to the road “not if i kill them first” she said unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing a gun from underneath her dress, where the fuck was she hiding that gun? “now matt do you trust me?” she asked slightly facing me with a straight face gun in hand i looked at her with a panicked expression my eyes switching between her face and the road, “WHAT?” i slightly raised my voice in panic “what do you mean if i trust you?” “matt. do. you. trust. me?” she repeated her words now more stern than last time “yes i trust you but what the fuck are you planning!?”

my question was answered by her rolling down the window half of her body was out while shooting at one of the cars behind us, gunshots now being fired from both cars, she got the tires of one car making them swerve off the road, another car taking their place and shooting at us again.

“FUCK!” i hear her exclaimed from next to me “what? are you okay?” i asked her switching my view from the road to her getting back into the car “yea, just a bullet scraped my arm, but there two more cars i need to get rid of!” she replied opening the sun roof of the vehicle and getting into position to shoot at the vehicle chasing us.

“y/n what the fuck are you doing get down here!” “matt chill this isn’t the first time i’ve done this i got it” she sighed as she kept shooting at the car, shortly after she came back down with a smile on her face “got the driver!” she laughed making me look at the rearview mirror to see the driver swerving to the side making the car flip over. “shit there’s still one more!” i exclaimed as i swerved into another route.

“matt this isn’t the way back to warehouse!” she muttered “yea i know we’re being followed remember? i’d be stupid to lead them back there” i laughed.

“okay this car is slightly leaning more on your side so i’d have to do something..” she says softly “what?” i asked not looking at her “ill have to slightly get on top of you it’s okay if not ill find another way!” she rambled “do whatever you have to do to get these last guys off our backs” as soon as i finished my sentence i felt her move towards me slightly straddling my lap to start shooting at the last guys.

in three minutes the car behind us was flipping over and she was going back to her seat “done! now let’s get back to the warehouse” she exclaimed out of breath.

once at the warehouse she got out of the car walking inside, once i got out i looked at the car “what the fuck?” i mumbled seeing there wasn’t a single scratch on it “they’re bulletproof” explained y/n from the door of the warehouse. “wow” i silently laughed making my way to her “how’s your arm?” i asked slowly grabbing it to get a better look at it “it’s better it hurts tho” “where is the first aid kit?” i asked taking her back inside “it’s in the bathroom under the sink” she replied taking a seat on the couch.

grabbing the first aid kit i made my way towards her and kneeling down “this is going to hurt” i looked at her while dabbling some rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad then cleaning her wound.

she winced once the pad made contact with her arm “sorry” i mumbled focusing on cleaning her wound up then wrapping it up with bandages “and done!” i said getting up from my kneeling position and examining her arm then her face, she was already looking up at me, we made eye contact for a brief moment before i saw her eyes flick down to my lips.

shit.

————————————————————————

chapter two done this one took a while but i finished it its slightly edited so i’ll go into more depth later hopefully yall enjoyed this one 😍

byeee

[kasagia]

Today marks ONE year of my writing on Tumblr!

And I didn't manage to finish the oneshot for our Aleksander (I'm so sorry :c ), so I wanted to at least share with you a fragment of what I will publish soon.

And thank you for all the comments, hearts and follows (THERE ARE OVER 1111 OF YOU!!!!! I can't believe it!!!!) THANK YOU VERY MUCH! I love you all! 🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵🩵🖤🖤🩵

A fragment from: "His mortal saviour" - coming soon...

The first thing he felt was warmth. The warmth, which wasn't at all in the fold. He shuddered and remembered how the cold had penetrated his body even more the moment the volcra's claws had dug into his face.

Then he felt the softness of the mattress beneath his back instead of the hardness of the sandy, packed soil. Further evidence proving that he was entirely somewhere else was the sound of soft footsteps and humming a few feet away from him.

He opened his eyes hesitantly and hissed, unaccustomed to the light after being unconscious for so long.

He freezes as he feels a hand on his eyes, keeping the sunlight from reaching them. Little. Soft. Alina... a thought comes to him, and he quickly laughs it off. His little sun summoner would probably rather blind him completely with her sun than protect him from more pain.

"Take it easy. You've been badly harmed." A soft female voice breaks the silence and pulls him from his thoughts about the woman who betrayed him and their kind.

He feels a strange rush of fear as he hears a female voice. Aleksander unwillingly recalls the memory of the time when he and his mother were captured by the Drüskelle. He felt like he did now. Helpless.

He was unable to move even a small distance on his own. The only difference was that no one was hanging over him with scalpels and other blades or hurling insults. But he suspected that could change very quickly...

He had to do something. He needed to get out of here somehow, but every slight movement of his muscles was accompanied by a huge wave of searing pain throughout his whole body. And for a brief moment, it occurred to him that maybe destroying the fold wasn't such a bad idea.

"Don't worry. I am not a psychopath, mad, serial killer, or anything. I'm a nurse. I saw you near the fold and took you to my house to heal you. It's a miracle you survived your encounter with the volcra. Usually, no one gets out of the fold. Certainly not on their own." The woman says, slowly removing her hand from his eyes.

He's too dazed by the light, busy taking in his surroundings and seeing her face for the first time, to notice that she's adjusting the bandages on his face and checking his wounds.

But he hisses, feeling the burning pain on his forehead as she rubs some thick, gooey liquid onto him.

"I'm sorry, but I have to. It's an ointment against infection. This should also numb you enough so that you don't feel any pain in your face. How's your back?"

He is too shocked to respond. As he takes a breath, he has a sudden coughing fit. She moves away from him. He hears her quick footsteps as she returns a moment later with a cup of water and a tissue. He spits something black out of his mouth, desperately trying to get some air. She strokes his back gently and leans him more forward, making him spit out all the black goo mixed with his saliva from his throat.

He frowns, staring at the tissue soaked in black liquid.

"Don't worry, it's absolutely normal. Every time they bring a survivor from the fold to the infirmary, something like this happens. The air is different there, and volcra tend to infect their victims. Let's just say it's some kind of poison that comes out of you. That's a good sign. As well as the fact that you woke up. Here." The woman says, taking the tissue from him and throwing it into a nearby trash can. He glances there, seeing that it is half full of black dressings and bandages. He looks back at her as she hands him a glass of water.

"What do you want?" He asks, his voice hoarse from disuse (or screaming in the fold), not taking a sip from the cup you gave him. It could be poisoned or worse.

"I... I don't understand." You say, confused by his hostile attitude.

"What do you want from me?" He repeats it again, and the commanding, demanding tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine.

"Nothing. I'm just helping." You reply with a shrug, which annoys him even more. He laughs mockingly, making you frown.

"Selflessly? To a stranger? Don't make me look like a naive idiot. Tell me right now who you are, what you want, and where we are, and you won't get hurt."

"With all due respect, I doubt you'd be able to raise your hand right now, let alone hold a gun or sword, or hit me, even if you were a soldier of the First Army." He stares at you in surprise, realising that you have no idea who he is, and maybe you really just helped him.

Could a normal person dare to speak back to the Darkling with such courage and anger in her eyes? He didn't think so. But one name comes to his mind... even though he's too hurt to think about her.

"What?" You ask him as he stares at you for a little too long.

"Nothing." He clears his throat and stares warily at the offered water. "Not many people surprise me." He explains, still not believing in your good intentions. You couldn't be so altruistic as to help a strange man who got spat out by the fold. People weren't kind or helpful to the weak, at least never towards him. That's why he always had to be stronger than others. To never become prey again.

"I see that you don't trust many either. If I pour for myself and you water from one jug and drink it first, will you consider doing the same? You need to rehydrate." You say it calmly, completely unfazed by his distrust.

For some reason, this makes him more surly towards you. Maybe this whole act on your part was just to keep his guard down until someone came for him, for example, Shu, Drüskelle, or even Alina's group of heroes. He had to get away from here. As soon as he regained full control over his aching body.

“Try to deceive me, and I will make sure to wipe out your family lineage to the last living generation.” He growls hoarsely, trying to regain at least some semblance of control in this situation.

"It's good that I'm an orphan then." You say, pouring him and yourself a glass of water and showing him that both are empty.

Another orphan... he thinks as you reach both glasses so he can choose which one he wants.

[...]

"You will leave me alone?" He ask. He can't believe that you would really leave him—a strange man you didn't know at all—in your house all alone.

"Do you need a company?" You ask mockingly, using the exact same cold tone of voice he used before. Aleksander decides he liked you much more when you were soft towards him.

"Aren't you afraid I'll rob you and run away?"

"There are only herbs, medicines, and a few books here. I have nothing so valuable that I couldn't get it on the market if you decided to take it. You can look around if you want. Although I wouldn't advise you to get up, your wounds are still fresh and barely sealed, so they don't bleed."

"Are you insane?" He can't help but ask, as you really are going out.

"All the best people are. Try not to die. It would be a waste of medicines and bandages." You say this and smile amusedly as you close the door behind you.

Aleksander blinks, surprised, as he lays in your bed. He tries to understand what has happened here, but he still has a headache and needs to get out of here.

He didn't trust you at all.

So before anyone could come and get him from you, he stood up. His legs are shaky at the beginning, but as he walks around your (tiny) cottage, he regains the ability to walk… maybe not as well as he did, but enough to move.

He looks around, just as you suggested, but he didn't find any proff that would confirm his suspicion. But it doesn't stop him from taking some pills and herbs before he leaves your house. He makes sure to take only a little—enough to get to the village or somewhere where he could find his people.

You were too kind to be robbed.

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Im not entirely sure what scenario specifically seems the most appealing. But what if we thought about Aemond and the youngest daughter of Rhaenys.

Rhaenys did love her two children. And they were enough for her. So when she found herself having a third, she certainly was surprised. She thought that was behind her. But a second daughter was welcome nonetheless.

While Aemond and his nephews grew up in King’s Landing, for a time she came to stay with her elder brother Laenor. Soon she might look for a match. And her mother thought it best that she become familiar with the intricacies of court before any of that. A good lesson, she cautioned. To learn that people are seldom who they present themselves. Something she should know well before talk of ANY match.

That is when Aemond first saw her. A few years above him. A young lady of 14. Not even close to grown in the eyes of her family. And he only saw her from a distance.

She was walking with his sister, Rhaenyra. Her eyes looking only forward. Her silver curls falling over her shoulders. Aemond kept staring at her as she walked away. Not a glance she spared him. Of course, why would she?

The first look she gave him it seemed, was one of shock. At Driftmark, when he lost his eye. She held her nieces close and that is when she looked at him. He decides she must have been frightened by this new “deformity” of his. She had said not a word. And yet for years, Aemond tortured himself. With the image of her walking so serenely, flowing as of right from a dream. And then her face as she looked upon him.

And as the years passed, he found himself unable to push away the images. Even more so. When a dragon had landed in the city. And a woman dismounted. A woman with silver curls.

Aemond had not expected her to ever return. He thought he was at peace. Nor did he expect her to meet his eyes and greet him. As if it was nothing. As if her eyes didn’t torment him. But now she torments him differently.

Her presence. Her voice. The way she carries herself, the way she glides through the halls. The way he begins to feel as if he’d fall on his sword would she only promise to grace him with a smile just once before the stranger takes him. He would curse her. Had he the nerve to bear it.

Instead he can’t help but watch her. He keeps his words to her brief. His actions formal. But his eye cannot help but find her.

One day she turns to him. “Have I done something to offend you cousin?”

He’s taken aback by the question. “Of course not my lady.”

She tilts her head. Looking at him with half concern. “Then why do you act as if we are strangers every time we meet?”

“Are… we not in a way? My lady.” Aemond almost lets the formality slip.

“We needn’t be.” She thinks to herself for just a moment. “Come. Why not join me for a ride?”

Aemond only offers her a skeptical look. If not a harsh one. “Why would this bother you? To be strangers? I know not much of you, and I can’t say you know much of me. Does it ever need to be more?”

She hesitates. “Maybe not…. But I confess. I feel…”

Aemond’s heart almost leaps from his chest. Oh he knows better than to assume her next words. And yet his body does.

“…. guilt. I fear it is because of the… friction between our families. You seem so uneasy in my presence. We don’t have to be close. I just don’t wish to see you straining yourself so, cousin.”

Ah, guilt. Reality stings. And angers Aemond, that he would briefly attribute anything else to her actions. She pities him. They are both grown. And yet he’s certain she will always see him as a boy. A boy she never spared a glance to.

Yet he flies with her. She challenges him to race, twirls in the air, and passes through clouds. He can hear her laughter, and see the grin on her face. The sunlight illuminates her face so well, the wind in her beautiful curls…..

Truly she must pity him. Or wish to torture him by trying to act as if she cares to get along. If only she knew how he lies awake. The sound of her laugh still in his ears.

Soon Rhaenyra and her family may return. He’s certain. And he can’t believe he finds himself looking forward to the day. Anything to distract him from this ache.

Why does she act as if she cares? Asking him questions. Even if she cares, he knows it isn’t in the way he can’t help but hope.

He does open up to her. Shamefully. All the effort he gives, all for duty. He talks of his desire for recognition. His frustrations. They come pouring out while they sit together. The books they had been reading put to the side. She rises from her chair and puts a hand on his shoulder. Saying not to stretch himself too far and torture himself with the ideas of what could have been and what will be. Don’t try to grow up too fast.

It’s half a joke maybe. But Aemond stands.

“But I am grown. Aren’t we both?” He finally looks her right in the eyes. And they pause for just a moment. Before she breaks it. Once again.

The implications of such words aren’t taken lightly.

Finally Rhaenyra does arrive. The King himself holding a dinner. That dinner…. How quickly things go awry. But when Aemond looks around, he cannot see her. She’s gone.

He slips out. Why does he need to find her? Why does it matter? He’s thrown away enough. One more risk. Just one.

He finds her by the fire. A room where they’re both alone. The light dancing in her eyes and now across them both. He calls her name and she turns. Her face is unreadable. Aemond knows it’s an awful time. But he can’t bear this a moment longer.

“Aemond-“

“Please. Please…. Let me speak.”

She sighs and looks to him. Sitting in a chair.

“I cannot bear this anymore. Your torture. How cruel you are. Your presence leaves me burning. Though I do not know if your presence is as agonizing as your absence. I am consumed. Body and soul.….”

She looks at him in confusion and shock. “Aemond you must tell me what I have done to offend you so! Is that why you fight my nephews! Is that-“

“Offend me?” Aemond walks closer to her. “I am only offended…. That I cannot escape you. I truly cannot.” He stares now into her eyes. “Your laugh still rings in my ears all through the night. Your smile would have me fall to my knees and beg for a release. Your eyes… pierce my soul. Your greatest offense, my lady, your only offense…. Is nothing can ever be beautiful again. In a world where you exist. All else falls away. All else is worthless…. without you.”

She looks at him. Shock again. He cannot bear it. But…. It doesn’t look cruel….

“Aemond….. you cannot speak such words to me. You do not understand the weight these declarations hold.” She stands now and holds her arms close, as if trying to collect herself. “If these feelings burn you, the whole realm could be ash then. I…. Cannot. In good conscience Aemond I cannot…. For our sakes, for our family, for the realm…. How could we?”

“You speak as if you know the feeling.” Aemond walks towards her. “Have you not felt this too? Is it true that you can now burn for me as I have always burned for you? If your soul aches as mine does, please share it. We may both find peace still.”

She stutters, unable to meet his eye. “There… there can be no peace for us Aemond. The realm is cracking. We cannot….”

“I beg of you.” He reaches for her. Touching her cheek. He slowly removes his eyepatch. “I lay myself bare to you. I fear not the wrath of gods or men, only to live without knowing what lies in your heart. Please my lady. If you truly do not share this. Please tell me. I will release you, and we need not speak of this again. I will give you peace I swear it. But if you truly burn as I do…. Please. Do not hide.”

She pauses and then she looks up at him. Her lip trembling. “I…. I cannot….”

Aemond almost feels his heart crack.

“….. I cannot…. Deny.” She gently touches his cheek. “I have begun burning. Just as you. Ever since we rode together. I have wanted you more every day after. And selfishly…. I want you now. I would…. Give my body and soul to you. If you give me yours in return.”

The euphoria Aemond feels is unmatched. She truly feels the same. And he’s close to her now….

He captures her mouth in a kiss. A deep, passionate, desperate, eager kiss. Slipping his tongue in and needing to capture it even further. He feels her moan against him. They should restrain themselves, even with this confession. But he has restrained himself too long.

He feels himself growing painfully hard, and he can’t stop from slipping a hand under her skirts and touching her eagerly. He hears her moan in response and it spurs him on. He kisses eagerly down her neck and rips the top of her dress, exposing her breasts. Kissing them as if this is his last night alive. And perhaps it will be.

He pulls back for a moment, seeing her panting and eager. As he all but tears his clothes to release his cock. She trembled eagerly at the sight.

Another night he’ll be gentle. Another night they’ll take their time. But this night they can’t. He holds up her skirts and finally shoves himself completely into her cunt. She moans softly and he almost moans himself. How he’s longed for her….

He pulls her close again and starts pounding into her with all of the desire he’s buried for so long. She gasps and moans and wraps her legs around him.

“A-Aemond my love… more… ah! Yes more-“

He kisses and bites at her neck. Finally giving in to let out a moan as he feels the way her body responds.

They lose track of time so easily, as they give into their desires. The only light from the fire as it illuminates their bodies. Aemond finishes inside her. But soon loses count. As they begin again…. And again….

Maybe someone will start looking for them soon. But they’re beyond caring.

Aemond is now on his back, watching her bounce up and down eagerly, taking his cock in her again and again.

Finally, they collapse together. After being fully satisfied. Aemond kisses her again. And she kisses back happily. As he holds her and she holds him.

None of the problems of the world can haunt him now. The burning is no longer a painful hurt. Now a beautiful euphoric ache

This is so beautiful 🥺🔥

[houndofsevenhells]

“Of Septons and Hounds” (Sandor Clegane x Original Female Character)

SUMMARY — A recently widowed impoverished spinster, who now finds herself at the Lannisters’ mercy, develops a strange relationship with the fearsome Hound. As the ten year long summer comes to an end, she tries to fight for the man she really wants, while dodging her good-brother's schemes to see her wed yet another elderly lord.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — This is my first ever work in this fandom, I hope I did my favourite fearsome Hound justice. English is not my first language so if you spot any mistakes that is my fault alone. Oh, and there’s also smut.

WORD COUNT — 3,391

Masterlist

The ten year long summer was coming to an end. I could feel it in my bones. Casterly Rock still stood tall and strong, as I suspected it would for another eight thousand years, but everything else around me was changing.

I was savouring a rare moment of peace and hid from the world in the alcove of the rose gardens. The round-petalled, sunset-coloured variety that grew here were my favourite, though of course the crimson ones planted at the very centre were the most magnificent. My good-brother Ser Damion once told me they were the pride and joy of Lady Joanna, and knowing his cousin Tywin I could certainly see why the gardeners worked so hard to keep these blooming all summer long.

As the recently widowed impoverished spinster, who now found herself at the Lannisters’ mercy, I hid in these gardens quite often–mostly to escape my good-brother’s schemes. One should hope his duties as the castellan of the Rock would have kept him busier…

I breathed deeply and felt my head swimming from the sweet scent of the roses. Somehow I knew the crimson ones smelled stronger as of late. I was sure they spoke of impending autumn winds. They had developed a startling, imposing scent that permeated almost the entirety of the gardens and it almost seemed like the flowers wanted to shine just one last time before they would inevitably wilt. Like the one last feast one would throw just before the first snowstorms.

“Well, then.” Suddenly, strong hands grasped my shoulders and I shot up from the bench I was resting on.

I was met with the half-burned face of Sandor Clegane; his ruined lips twisted in a mockery of a smile and his imposing frame blocking the sun from my view completely. 

“Oh. It’s you.” I was clearly relieved.

No less confused than before, Sandor took a step closer.

“Who did you think it was?” he asked. His voice was broken glass, crunching under infantry iron boots. 

“My brother,” I confessed easily. “He is getting fatter on his castellan purse, but is almost as tall as you, Ser Clegane.”

Immediately, Sandor snarled at the title, his grey eyes full of hate. But I stood there proudly, daring him to scold a high-born lady in public. I was riling him up and he knew it, but he let me all the same. 

“Come.” His command was short; an order a captain of the guard would throw at a fellow soldier.

“Is that any way to talk to a lady, Clegane?”

He said nothing to that, just sent me another angry look over his shoulder and then kept walking. I stifled a laugh.

Unlike all those other guards prancing around the Rock in their gold shiny armours, Sandor’s black ring mail and boiled leather seemed to be quelling the sunshine around him.

Unable to help myself, I followed him inside the castle.

His long legs carried him quite a distance further and soon enough I found myself trotting behind him like an ungraceful pony.

“Is that any way for a lady to walk?” he grumbled, though there was mirth in those angry eyes and I grinned as soon as I saw it.

“Is that a jape I hear, Clegane? By the gods, it–” But the rest of that remark died in my throat as he pulled me into a dark corridor that ended with a spiral staircase. He went down and again, I followed.

“Where are we?” I inquired.

“Underneath the barracks.” His rasping voice drifted up to me. Once more, he was leading.

“Lovely,” I sighed and then simply kept following.

At the end of the staircase, there was an old door with an even older-looking lock, to which Sandor for some inexplicable reason produced a rust-covered key. He unlocked the door and it soon became apparent he must have been the first one to do it in quite a while. It took a formidable power to open it at all. I looked at how his muscles bulged under the dark sleeves of his tunic and against my better judgement I did not stop looking until he caught me in the act. 

Without any niceties, Sandor took my hand and led me through the narrow passage, then firmly shut the door behind us; the rusty hinges straining under the task.

“I do appreciate the effort, Clegane, but if I should have to perish, I’d rather not do it under some aimless old stone that decides to drop on my head with–”

“You talk too much, woman.”

He grabbed me and soon my back was pressed against the cold stone wall. I did not necessarily mind. This was what I came there for; it was what I wanted and what Sandor kept giving me for the past year and a half.

I reached out blindly and when my hands found his face I pulled him closer for a kiss. He wouldn’t reciprocate at first, this much I knew, because such was our game. He would let me sense his humours and somehow through a simple touch and kiss I would read him like a book. I realised he would need it rough today and my body shivered with anticipation. I deepened the kiss and finally Sandor moved closer and started to unlace his breeches.

There was scarcely any light source in the old dungeon and I could barely see a thing. Regretful, giving my particular weakness for the sight of the man. Because Sandor was everything I could ever want from a man, even though he would never let me say it out loud. 

But the noose around my neck was tightening. With the summer ending and Her Grace slowly packing to move back to King’s Landing with the children, I knew the proper mourning period after my late husband’s passing was over. As I had no remaining male relatives, Ser Damion Lannister was in charge of any dowry my puny cousin Crakehall branch could offer. Soon, the evil beast that married my sister would force me to wed once more–undoubtedly to another evil beast of his choosing.

“You are shaking, my lady.” The familiar raspy voice brought me back. I sighed because I enjoyed him calling me a lady quite as much as he liked to be called “ser”.

“It’s cold in here.”

“Aye.” He reached under my skirts and I gasped once he pulled down my smallclothes. “So let me make you warmer.”

Another sigh turned into a moan when he put two fingers inside me and curled them. He was not being rough to be cruel, but because he knew I could not stand a slow and tedious prelude.

“So wet,” he rasped into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Were you thinking of me all day?”

I could not smell the wine on him this time and I enjoyed the thought that he wanted to experience me sober. I always liked it better when he was not drinking and I thought the incentive for him was that our time together would last longer.

“Actually no, I–” I exhaled and let out a surprised chuckle as he grabbed my thigh firmly to lift up my leg. I rested it against his hip and he added another finger inside me–this time more smoothly.

“Cease your prattling, woman,” he grunted. “Does the dark frighten you so much? Or the creature you find yourself in the dark with?”

I let out another moan as his teeth nibbled at my neck. 

The sensations were overwhelming. The stone wall was cold against my back, and the dank dungeon was not something I would call remotely romantic–it smelled of damp earth and rot, and to be truthful after a day of training in the yard, Sandor smelled no better.

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see him sneering at me.

“Where in the seven hells are you?” He leaned in closer and as he replaced his fingers with his cock, I steadied myself by clutching his arms. “Because you sure ain’t here with me.”

“I am… thinking,” I whispered and it gave him a pretence to claim another kiss from my lips. 

He knew me too well; such was the consequence of two souls connecting the way we have been doing. At first our dalliance was just a mutual understanding–but now it expanded and grew like a root, and despite our better judgement, we started to get to know one another.

“Stop thinking so much, woman,” he grumbled, his voice surely hoarse from yelling at incompetent recruits through all of the morrow. “Look at me. Look at me.”

I finally looked up and saw the faint outline of his face. His eyes no longer resentful, now they glinted with lust. I smiled as I understood the object of that lust was me. 

“Go on then,” I mustered my best commanding tone and moaned as he squeezed my thigh harder in return.

The rough wall behind me, the strong arms I was clutching and Sandor’s hardness inside me all brought me back from whatever hell my mind had wandered to and I set my heart on the now. That is why we worked so well, I supposed. His roughness and my need for it paired together beautifully.

We were both close, I could feel it. Sandor let out a groan and I made myself tighten around him in response. I wished the moment could last longer, but I knew deep down all things that exist in darkness and privacy must one day come out to light.

I reached my peak first and nearly cried out–but Sandor was faster. He captured my lips in another harsh kiss, spilling inside me. I felt how his body tensed, pressed up against me. Still seeing stars, I let him release my leg back down, though I appreciated him still holding me close. I swore under my breath at how unsteady I felt and I heard Sandor chuckle. An oddly comforting thing, that disembodied rough chuckle in the dark. 

I pulled up my smallclothes and straightened my skirts, wincing at the mess that spilled from me. I did not care if his seed quickened, though. Thankfully I was no longer a maiden and knew my sums better than I used to. My monthly blood was still far away and I had more time to take precautions.

My release did make everything better, but I still was not finished with my game of teasing the bull.

“When was the last time you took a bath, Sandor?”

I could not really see it, but I knew his brows were tightly pinched together.

“Last week, I think. Why? Does this dog’s stink offend your ladyship?”

“No,” I chuckle. “Have no fear. I know who you are and I still enjoy your company.”

That, I gathered, stunned him more than a blow to the head could. I heard his clothes rustle. He was putting himself back in order, too.

“The smell of blood and sweat,” he grunted. “Some twisted tastes you have, woman.”

I put my hands in front of me and grabbed at his tunic to pull him closer. This time, he obeyed. I pressed myself against him and I could feel his breath quickening.

“Some twisted tastes, indeed,” I hummed and moved to rest my cheek against his chest. “But I wish we could go somewhere else. Somewhere far away from Casterly Rock.”

Somewhere far away from my sister’s husband, is what I truly wished to say and Sandor knew it well. I could feel him stirring uncomfortably, undoubtedly unsure what to say to that. I knew then that I let myself say too much.

“Well, we’ve got that. The two of us here, nice and private, as the lady commands.”

“Very amusing.”

“I do try.”

His hands moved from my backside then and I felt his fingers in my hair. True to the word he had once given, he was doing his best not to make too much of a mess of my braid. But I knew he liked my hair. He remarked on it often.

We were quiet then, just the two of us in that small dungeon under the barracks of Castle Casterly, and it was as close to peaceful as I have ever felt. I knew I was trying to hold on to this moment just a little bit longer, to somehow keep it from ending. 

To my surprise, it was Sandor that broke our silence this time:

“I do not want to let you go yet.”

I knew what it meant, for him to speak his mind like that. I was fast to answer so as not to keep him in suspension:

“Nor I you.”

I wanted to say more; to say I wished he were mine and mine alone. But that would be foolish. I knew it could never be. I started to trace soothing circles on his back instead; something I knew he enjoyed very much.

After a moment, he spoke again, though his voice was less hoarse now:

“And if I said… I am yours as you are mine?”

The pang of emotion in my chest was as pleasant as it was scary.

“I would say that is all I want.” I placed my palm against his scarred cheek and felt him lean into the touch. “I want you,” I assure him. “I do not wish to be away from you. I do not wish to be married to a lord or a hedge knight or the first drunk who wins against Damion at cards. I want…”

But then the moment faded away and Sandor brought us back to reality:

“What we want doesn’t matter.”

We have been here before, I realised. This was not the first time when both of us wanted the same, but neither believed we could truly take it.

“You know I am no knight. No lord. I’m just their creature, I’m the Hound.”

“Do not say that.”

“But that’s the truth,” he replied, his voice harsh and grating like knives on stone. “I have killed more men than I could even remember. I’m scarred and ugly and hard to look at. You would not be getting a man, you would be getting a beast.”

I knew what he was doing, what he was trying to do. But this time, somehow, I did not want to cower before my better judgement. Winter was coming and I was growing tired.

“Well, fortunately I am good with wild creatures,” I declared in my best lady-like tone. “If I could make your Stranger eat my apple offerings, I am certain you are no more work than that.”

He went silent and even in the dim lighting of the dungeon I could see the conflict in his face.

“Never had a woman like you, with manners and all. I was never meant for any court. If we give in, you’d be wed to a brute.”

I exhaled and decided then that if after a decade the seasons were changing, I deserved a change as well. I have decided then to break the spell of misfortune with a jape and took a step closer to sniff at his neck.

“Well, as your lady wife I could at least make you bathe more often. If that is not a credit to my taming skills, I do not know what would be.”

He laughed at that and even though his laughter would always be short-lived, I still took that as a victory.

“Fuck the court then, eh?” he said and gently held my face in his rough, calloused hands. 

“Fuck the court,” I said sternly, and I knew my swearing always took him by surprise, “and fuck their dances, and fuck their hedge knights. May they all dance themselves off the cliffs of Casterly Rock! And may Ser Damion die of a bloody flux. I hope it is painful.”

“Aye,” Sandor chuckled again and kissed the top of my head. “It is. But do not let them hear you cast your spells. I will do much, but I will not save you from a burning pyre.”

It would not matter if they burned me to ash tomorrow for true. Today I finally had hope.

“I want to be your wife,” I declared. “I want them all to know who protects me. I know you will protect me. They are all afraid of you and–”

“Look at me,” he ordered and I did so at once. “You say this… And you say this knowing what I am? Knowing why they are all afraid?”

“I do not care,” I replied, now close to tears from thinking he would not agree after all. “My good-brother is in charge of my money and in charge of me. I have nothing of my own, no reputation, no lands or keep. Truth be told, you are marrying down, Sandor.”

He laughed at that and I cherished the sound. I adored making the mask fall.

“You are taking advantage of me, woman, is that it?” he rasped, though now his voice lacked all that anger. He seemed almost happy.

“Yes, Sandor Clegane,” I grinned. “I have cast my spells and ensnared you in my power. All of our combined riches of one dragon and two stags shall get us as far as… The Trident, most likely. After that we shall both be whores, but we shall be very happy, indeed.”

“Careful, woman,” he snarled, though his eyes showed no anger.

“Pardon me, my lord.” I gave him my best curtsy.

That earned me a hard squeeze of my backside, but I had no regrets.

“Do you have no fears, then?” he rasped, his hand playing with my hair again. “None at all?”

“Well, I do not particularly care for spiders…”

“By the gods, woman! About me, I meant.”

“Then, no.” My grin grew wider. “You are many things, but you are not a monster, Sandor. I know I can believe your words if you say you would not hurt me.”

“Never.” He rushed to answer this and his hands immediately tightened around my waist. “But I will hurt anyone around you if I need to keep you safe. I will keep you safe, the rest of them can fucking burn.”

“Then I shall dance on the ashes,” I japed again, though my heart threatened to burst out of my chest from happiness. “Come then. Let us find some drunk Septon, I hear your Lord Tyrion knows a few.”

Sandor chuckled and took me by the hand to lead us out of the dungeon.

“He is your cousin.”

“Only by marriage. Remember, I am a Crakehall. Wild boars and lions are not exactly friendly.”

“And hounds are? You are mad.”

“You better wed me fast, then. Such a grand prospect shall not wait forever. But after that, I never want to see or hear the name ‘Lannister’ ever again. ”

We stopped on our way up the stairs and to my astonishment Sandor kissed me right then and there. He looked me in the eye, solemn as always, no doubt waiting for me to change my mind. But I would not. Not when he had shown me what happiness tasted like.

“What is it?” I asked. 

“This may be the most foolish thing I have ever done,” he grumbled. “And that’s saying something.”

I took his hands in mine and shook my head, smiling in a way I hoped was encouraging and not entirely deranged from joy. 

“I am the unreasonable one, Sandor. You shall be my reasonable husband that tames my wicked nature, remember?”

“Am I now?” He smirked. “So you do take me for a husband? I ain’t even civilised enough to know the… vows.”

“Neither does the Septon, if we get one drunk enough to agree to wed us.”

“Nothing will change your mind, then?”

“Nothing shall save you now from this predicament. The hounds are out, the boars are slain, the… I do seem to have run out of house sigils for my japes, but you do know my meaning, I hope?”

“Aye,” he said and this time he seemed to have believed me. “That I do, woman. Now, let us get you that Septon so that I can bed you long and proper.”

[anna1306]

The Gone Prince

Daemon Targaryen x brother!Targaryen Reader

Warnings: homophobia, internalised homophobia, little (compared to all the Westeros) violence, family abuse, swearing

Here it is, my first fic on HOTD. I really hope you will like it. It ended up longer than I expected it, and I am full of doubts. But I am ready to hear critique and any comment you have. Or if you suddenly have a request c:

Summary: Daemon and Y/N Targaryens were very close since their childhood. Little did anyone know how exactly brothers were close before the elder one went away.

97 AC

That was one of the happiest, but usual late nights in the Red Keep. Daemon tiredly laughed, falling back on his bed. You could only smile, seeing him like this, falling on the bed beside him, breathing heavily.

"You are awfully happy, brother." You noticed with a smirk. Younger Targaryen giggled, turning on his side, your previous activities didn't hamper his movements even for a moment. The only indication of your previous activities was his own heavy breath and sticky thighs.

"Shouldn't I be happy about my elder brother being alright?" He asked with an innocent face. You knew better than to believe that act. He was never innocent, not even in your first night.

He stood before you, determined and stubborn look in his eyes. He always got like this whenever he was set on achieving some goal of his. You looked at him atop the book you read.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Finally you said, noticing a hint of fear in his eyes. But the second you returned your attention to the book, he crossed all the distance between you, ripping it from your hands and throwing it away. Daemon sat on your lap, lacking all of the shame he should have had. For the man, who came in his night shirt and breeches to the other man's quarters at night. For the man, who closed the door after sending away the only guard who could be the witness. For the man, who said that he wanted to lay as one with his elder brother.

"You know what I'm talking about, Y/N. I saw your stares at me. And you saw mine. I have experience. I always know what I want, I am not a child. And I know that I want you. As you want me" He breathed in your lips. It was the first time you gave in to the passion burning inside the youngest Targaryen. And oh how many more times like that there would be.

"Why shouldn't I be alright? I am not that much older so that the night of love may kill me." You poked his side. Daemon dropped his act, catching your hand and intertwining your fingers.

"I would certainly hope not, it would be such a shame." He scoffed, moving closer to you, his face turning sour for a moment. "But when I saw you on the hunt earlier, covered with blood... For a second there I just..."

"Oh, Daemon..." You cooed at your brother, noticing his darkened expression. After all these years you could easily tell the difference between his act and real feelings. He was really disturbed. You embraced him with one hand, bringing him closer to you. His naked body, that didn't cool down yet after sex, pressed readily into yours, as you gently kissed his forehead, holding him in your hands softly. "I am alright. And you had great deer for that dinner, hadn't you?"

"It was good." Daemon nodded, not looking at you. "But next time I am going to come with you." He suddenly added. You smiled at his enthusiasm.

"Have a pity for Viserys. He has enough troubles trying to find me in the woods, he would go mad if I take you with me and we would both disappear." You couldn't help, but pull the young man closer, kissing him shortly. You just couldn't get enough of him. Not that your brother minded.

"Viserys is busy with father. Being heir's heir, you know." He scoffed, making you look at him more attentively. Daemon had little care for the succession in your family. He wasn't going to be a king ever, that was what every maester told him. Those were the whispers of the court. That was a common knowledge. Even if something were to happen with Viserys, there were you, the second son of prince Baelon. Daemon, being the youngest one, was the least to success anything. And still, every time he spoke about your elder brother or father and their royal business, that took all of their attention, you couldn't help but hear... Pity in Daemon's voice? Or was it just your imagination?

"Well... That's the downs of being the elder son." You shrugged, rubbing your thumb over his palm, hoping it would soothe the possible worries of his. "He still loves you, you know. Both of them love you." You knew how important to him was your father's and brother's approval, no matter how busy they were. And you reassured him times and times again that he wasn't an empty place.

"I know." He whispered back. Daemon looked at you again, with determination in his eyes. "But I don't care."

"Is that so?" You scoffed, letting go of his hand and looking at your younger brother, as he sat on the mess that became of his bed.

"I don't care about them. What matters is that you love me." Daemon whispered stubbornly, pointing out every word, like he tried to prove to you his feelings about it.

"My love is enough for you? Never took you for someone who is satisfied with so little." You looked at him softly, seeing how fires started dancing in his darkening eyes.

He was a troublemaker. Since he learned how to walk and talk, he began to tease everyone and causing troubles all around the Red Keep. He showed his tongue to anyone, who scolded him, even to his father (when he didn't see it, of course). But when it was you, who scolded him, he never did anything like this again. He always looked up to you and even if you were closer to Viserys in your age, younger than him only by a year, Daemon always favoured you more than anyone else. You were literally inseparable from each other. You remembered your grandmother sharing with you once about how if Daemon was born a princess, she wouldn't think twice on how to manage the marriages in the family. Oh, if only she knew how right she was in her thoughts...

"Your love isn't a small deal. And your cock definitely isn't." Daemon added with a smirk of his. You laughed at his humour, throwing your head back. At this your brother smacked your shoulder. "I am serious. I don't care for anyone or anything else. As long as you are with me."

You sighed, looking at Daemon, who watched you like a hawk. Every movement, each expression of your face, he never looked away. You sat on his bed, ruffling his white hair, which only started to grow back after one of his impulsive haircuts.

"I will never leave you, I promise, ñuha zaldrīzes (my dragon)." You whispered, kissing him shortly. "Whoever stands beside me, my heart is only yours."

"I will kill anyone who dares to even stand near you." Daemon feverishly whispered, taking your face in his hands. He looked almost crazy, obsessed. You guessed it was blood of dragons speaking inside of him, as you sometimes felt the same towards him. "You are mine. Only mine. Not theirs."

"You do understand, that one day I will have to take a wife." You carefully took his chin in your fingers, looking in your brother's face. He scowled at the mere thought of sharing his brother with someone else. You both weren't idiots. You understood that whatever you had, it couldn't last forever, but you intended to always be his safe space. Whether you would marry someone or he would take someone as his wife, as you both were expected to, you wanted to be the one who he would come to when he had the urge.

"Then I will become your knight. I am the youngest, nothing is expected of me, and I will serve you till my last breath." Your heart clenched at his words. Daemon was smart prince, free-spirit, witty, with strategic mind. He had a great physical form, was a good swordsman and could become a great lord one day. But he was willing to let go of all of that - power, possibility of creating a family, having children - just to be with you, no matter the status.

"We'll see when it comes to this." You answered, not entirely sure that your grandsire would allow this. They would rather have Daemon married to someone for alliance. You didn't want to think that someone will touch him, like you touched and kissed him. He was yours, his mind, body and soul were yours since he was brought into this world.

You closed your eyes, suppressing every thought of this. Getting out of his arms, you stood up from the bed. You were supposed to be the reasonable one. So you had to make a right thing, as you reached for your breeches on the floor.

"You don't believe that I will serve you." Daemon sounded almost offended. You smiled at him, putting your breeches on, not answering anything. As you moved to the mirror in his room to at least try and untangle the mess your brother created out of your hair, you heard shuffling and quiet Valyrian curses behind you. In couple of seconds his pale hands embraced your form from behind.

"Dae..."

"You are my King." He suddenly said, and you looked at him through the mirror. He looked serious, gazing at your face dreamingly. "I don't care who sits the throne. Who will inherit it after. But if I could choose, I would make you the King. And I would bend the knee and serve you. I would make everyone obey you." Daemon pulled away to walk around you and stand in front of you. "I can and I will serve you till my last breath." His eyes sparkled with tease again, as he lowered himself on the floor. You breathed out shakily at his words, your heart shivering at the mere thought of his loyalty to you, let alone his sheer determination.

"I... I need to go, someone will notice me going out from your room in the morning."

"Can't you lie about... I don't know. Brotherly love and horrible nightmares?" Daemon offered innocently, undoing ties that you already managed to tie and freeing your half-hard cock. And how could you ever resist his eyes and that tone of his?

***

You left his chambers at the dawn, while Daemon was still sleeping. This little asshole distracted you enough for you to fall asleep in his bed. You carefully looked around the hall, trying not to be seen. Quickly you followed the way to your own quarters. Just when you were about to turn to your room, the guard in the hall stopped you.

"Prince Baelon wishes to see you."

"I will visit my father before breakfast." You didn't think much of it at first.

"The heir orders for you to come to him at once." This made you furrow your brows. What could be so important at the dawn of the day? You changed your way immediately without questions, following the guard to your father's chambers.

"Father. What has happened this early?" You asked him, looking at him confusedly. He was facing the balcony, not looking at you. There was noone else in this room, but you two. Worry slowly crawled its way into your heart. "Father..."

"The day Alyssa died, I swore to myself that no matter how hard it would be, I would protect you and your brothers." He interrupted you. You couldn't pinpoint his tone, so you opted to just listening to him. "And I thought I was doing a good job. Viserys and you were calm, you listened, Viserys learned. I thought Daemon would be my biggest problem with his free mind and spirit, but even he knew his limits." You didn't interrupt, having no idea where this was going. "And here you are, breaking every gods' rule. You - the least demanding child, the one who I had least troubles with - are becoming my biggest disappointment." He turned around, and you trembled. The tone was understandable now, as you looked at his face. Baelon was angry.

"I don't know what I did, father. Please, tell me so I can fix my mistake." You asked, genuinely not understanding what got him so upset and mad at you.

"Where were you? All this night I was waiting for you." He asked you instead, his stern eyes boring into your soul.

"I was at Daemon's chambers in the evening, we had dinner. And then I went to have a walk..."

"A walk... To Daemon's bed in your underwear?!" You got pale at the sudden realisation of what was going on and why your father was so mad. You tried to think of the way to calm him down.

"I... I don't know what someone told you they have seen, but I assure you..."

"I saw it myself! Saw Daemon before you on his knees. Saw him and you in his bed, doing..." He cut himself off, turning away from you, angrier than you ever saw him ever. This was harder than you thought.

"I can explain..."

"Shut your mouth before I cut out your tongue!" He pointed his finger at you, his usually calm eyes burning with rage. You gulped, not averting your eyes from him even for a second. "How dare you taint him with this?"

"I didn't taint... Daemon isn't that innocent as you think."

"I know about his visits to the Silk street and the whores. But you are his brother! A man! What do you think will happen if anyone knows, if anyone starts the rumours of your brother laying with you as only a woman should lay with a man?! Our family would be disgraced! He would be disgraced!" You lowered your head. It didn't matter what you say, he wouldn't listen now. He was too gone in his anger. "You corrupted him with this. You made him crazy. I heard the traitorous things he said to you. King... You put this in his mind, seducing him, haven't you? Or do you intend to tell me that those were his thoughts and he is at fault here too?" You whipped your head to look at him. You couldn't imagine how father's rage would be directed at Daemon, how proud prince would react and what would happen between them. But you wouldn't dare to bring this upon him, upon your heart, upon you love, upon your whole world. No... You had to take all of his anger upon yourself.

"Give him to me." You dared to provoke him to take his mind off of Daemon. "Let me take him away from the court, away from the capital. Marry me off to some lady of the Vale or somewhere far away. I will take him with me as a knight, noone will ever know a thing, noone would think anything in court or anywhere else." You quietly said, looking at frozen Baelon. He looked at you again and you stepped back, suddenly scared of the calmness on his face that came right after his rage. It was too sudden of a change.

"Out."

"Father, I..." In a second he crossed the distance between you two, hitting you in the jaw with all his strength, sending you flying on the floor.

"Out! Out of my chambers! Out of the Keep! Out of the capital! I don't fucking care about where you will live and how! No brother should do this to his own brother. You are no son of mine anymore!" You looked at him in silent terror, holding the side of your face he had hit. He was exiling you. Just for the... For your love. For one thing he saw and heard. You couldn't fight your own father. Especially not when he was like that. Maybe later you could try and persuade him to talk it out. But for now you had to obey.

"As you wish... I will say goodbye and..."

"No! You will leave the capital at once! You are not to approach any of your brothers ever again! You are dead to this family. You taint and corrupt everything you touch. My blood couldn't produce something like you. Fucking sinner. Horrible leech." You shook your head in disbelief, your eyes widening at the sudden realisation that he wasn't going to explain anything to your family. To Daemon.

"No, let me say goodbye, let me explain to them, I beg you..."

"Guards!" Baelon roared, stepping away from you, his disappointment written all over his face. "Throw him out of the Keep!" He ordered them. Guards hesitated only for a second, but still obeyed the heir. You tried to fight back and screamed for your father to listen to you, but to no avail. You were escorted from the Keep in mere minutes.

You knew you couldn't reach out to anyone now. You had no choice, but to step back. You headed to the Dragonpit, to your dragon, your proudness. You weren't sure if father gave any orders about you, but the only dragonkeeper you met, turned away, making it look like he never saw you. Your dragon met you halfway, feeling your distraught, the three of them bending down their heads, almost surrounding you with them, wishing to bring you comfort. You flew from the King's Landing at the same hour.

You found a shelter in Braavos. It took some time for you to negotiate with the Sealord the conditions of your dragon being near the city and you taking shelter in one of the houses. But when you managed to do that, when you managed to settle down, first thing you did - you sat and wrote several letters, to Daemon, to Viserys, even to your grandmother, Alysanne, she had to help you. You waited days, weeks for the answer, for anything. You had hope.

It was at night, almost moon later, when you got a box from the King's Landing. In it were all your ravens with broken necks, each and every one of them that you sent to your family. And a short letter from the Queen with only one word.

Sorry

You were alone now. You understood it at that moment that nothing will change the fact that your family abandoned you. You screamed into the darkness of the night, as your dragon screamed three times harder with you.

***

120 AC

Sounds of clashing swords could be heard long beyond the territory outside the city. You called it your training grounds. Your friend called it the Place of Prince's humiliation.

"Be careful, Y/N." Raphael laughed, when you landed on your ass once again. You cursed at him, standing up quickly and breathing hard.

"Don't be so cocky. It's hard to learn new style of fighting so late!" You took your sword once again, feeling a bit frustrated. You didn't know why you agreed to do this at this point. Your opponent and your friend of the last five years tried to teach you braavosi fighting style. And you just couldn't help, but be awkward, mixing steps and falling again and again.

"It amuses me, Free Prince, that after all this time here you never tried to learn the way of water." Tha man smiled widely, giving you some space, looking around you both and suddenly stopping. "Looks like it's time for some break." Raphael smirked, nodding at the woman that was slowly and hesitantly approaching you both. You glanced at her with a little smile, breathing out.

"Don't be afraid Agueda, they are not here." You noticed the way she glanced at the sky. Your dragon became normal thing for Braavos after all those years, but rare people tried to come closer to them. And even if Agueda owned the house you lived in for the last nine years, she never really got used to the 'three-headed menace', as she called them.

"I'm not afraid of your pet, just nervous." She defended herself stubbornly. The woman had never admitted her weaknesses, you admired that trait of hers. She stopped to catch her breath for a minute, stretching her hand to you with some scroll in it. "There was a messenger."

"For me?" You looked at her in surprise, sheathing your sword. "From whom?"

"From someone in King's Landing." You lost your joy in an instant. It was almost a letter from another life. You were different and times were different. For all those years alone here everything you could find out were just little bits of information from sailors and merchants. Queen's death, your father's death, The Old King... Coronation of Viserys, birth of the only child of his, death of Aemma and so on. Noone of them tried to reach you, to bring you back. Noone wrote to you. All you had - pieces of information about your family, told to you by several people.

You never tried to reach out to them yourself. You wouldn't dare. Not after your father burned all the bridges. Your grandmother's note wasn't the only one you got. All those years ago your father wrote to you. Prince Baelon was tired of your 'pathetic notes' you still tried to send. He called you names, told you in his letter how disgusted he was with you. And if you would dare to taint their (their, not your) family again, he would find you and burn you alive after punishing the ones who helped you reach out to them. So you didn't even dream about hearing from them again. Especially hearing from Him.

Daemon. The Rogue Prince. The victor of the war on the Stepstones. The husband of Lady Velaryon. He lived in Pentos for some time and oh how strong you wanted to go there. To visit him. Just to see him. To look how much he had changed since that night you hold him in your arms last time. You almost joined the caravan to Pentos. But at the last moment you forced yourself to stay in your place. He had his own life now. He probably hated you for leaving him behind. It was better for him to hate you.

You took the scroll with shaking hands and stepped to the side, opening it. Slowly your eyes went through the text, reading it. It was Viserys, you still remembered his handwriting after all these years, though it became more... Regal. His words were accurate, phrases - cautious, but something in the letter sounded almost desperate.

"What, Free Prince is not so free anymore?" Raphael called after some time of no reaction from you, teasing. But when you didn't answer and just stared in the distance with no sign of joy, he furrowed his brows. "Is something wrong?"

"My brother asks me to come back." You said quietly, turning around and looking at your friends. Agueda sighed and shrugged.

"When are you leaving? And don't tell me anything else, I know you want to. You blew my head with words of how much you miss your home and family." This woman was too perceptive. You were scared of her being witch sometimes.

"I don't know if I should." You answered honestly, looking down at the scroll, still contemplating your decision.

"I think you definitely should." Your friend stepped to you with a smirk on his tanned face. "Not every day there is a chance like this. And not every story is as difficult and interesting as yours. Go, our Free Prince. You know that any time you can just hop on this three-headed monster of yours and come back here. I'm sure Agueda won't sell your room to anyone else." Raphael noted, earning a nod from a woman, agreeing with his words. He prepared to leave the ground you used for training. But before the man went away, he touched your shoulder, looking at your face seriously. "And if anything needed... Only one word sent from you and couple of Braavosi dancers and a shadow without a face may just visit the capital." Raphael winked at you, as you nodded, understanding his hint. He meant good, you knew it, but... You had to think about all of it on your own.

***

It felt weird, stepping in King's Landing after all those years. So familiar, yet strange and unknown at the same time. You walked through the streets with your hood on, as to not attract attention to yourself. You passed the artists, merchants, people, the smallfolk whom once you knew and loved. Now they all seemed foreign to you after all those years spent in the different part of the world. You didn't stop to dwell on anything. There was only Keep in your mind, right in front of your eyes.

Did your brother know about what had happened all this time ago? Did he not? What did Baelon say to them? Was this a mistake to come here? Your heart yearned for a chance to explain yourself, to reach out to your family, but most of all, to the person who still owned your heart, mind and desires. But was it worth it? Was it needed? After all, Daemon got better, he found himself a family, he was a father now. And you... You were just a disgrace, you were sinner, a freak, a leech, tainting the reputation of the family. Your own family now didn't know you.

You found yourself staring at the secret entrance of the Keep for some time now. You didn't know how long you stood there in one place, rethinking your decisions about everything over and over again, but your legs started hurting. With a sigh you moved to the entrance. There was no going back. You could go back to the ships and just return to Braavos, but... You wanted to at least try.

Your steps were careful and quiet, the memories of your own screams echoing through your mind. You were afraid to meet guard at another turn, who would escort you out once again. But every corner you turned was empty, and you breathed in the air of your home with a little smile. After the loud town, the silence of the long halls was almost deafening.

You figured out that Viserys was now residing in king's bedroom, so you went exactly there, remembering the path as you went. Wondering through long corridors, looking at every change there was. Once you reached the hall you needed, you were surprised that noone was guarding king's door. There were only two knights at the end of the corridor, not even looking at the passage you came through. Was they too sure of their safety? How foolish of them. You carefully opened the door, not wanting to attract attention.

You were met with the sight of familiar bedroom, where some man was hunched over a model on the table. "Valyria," - you understood, once you squinted your eyes enough. You turned your attention to the figure of the person you thought was your elder brother. It had to be him.

"It is dangerous not to guard the entrance to your own bedroom, my king." You said carefully and quietly. The figure shivered and froze for a moment. The man quickly stood up and turned to face you, swaying a bit to the side, but holding a hand on a dagger attached to his belt. You smiled, seeing that it was indeed your brother, his features older, but still recognisable to you. So you took off the hood, looking at him almost sheepishly. Viserys stepped back, his eyes widening at the sight of you, hand dropped from the hilt of a dagger.

"Y/N... It's you. You are... Alive. And you are back."

"You asked for me, your Grace." You bowed your head to your brother. Hearing unsteady, but quick steps, you raised your head, just to be met with tight embrace. You wrapped your hands around your brother immediately, your heart and mind were overflown with emotions. You stood still together like this for a moment.

"Y/N... Brother... Let me look at you." He pulled away, still holding your shoulders and looking you over. "You look strong!" He smiled. You shrugged.

"You look old." You offered an awkward joke. Viserys laughed at this, not offended in the slightest.

"I am older, after all." He motioned to the table. You both went to it, him insisting that you sit near him. "I am surprised that you are here. I wasn't even sure you were alive after all those years. But when the rumours of the three-headed dragon residing near Braavos came, I had to take that chance and find you. Have you been there an entire time?"

"Yes. I got lucky that the Sealord let me stay with them in the city. I was sure he's gonna sent me away with the beast of the slaveowners." You scoffed.

"Did you finally name them? I remember you couldn't come up with their names since we were children. And by the way, I didn't hear their roars." The king looked at the sky through the window. You smiled a little.

"Valyris, Rageryx and... Daemoxes." You counted them, only stumbling over one of the names. "I left them in Braavos. Maybe they would follow me here." You told him, meeting his careful gaze. Your brother smiled, his eyes warm.

"I am sure our dragonkeepers still remember how to take care of them." He said. For a minute the room was silent, as you both studied each other with your eyes, and it was you who decided to ask the question that tormented you for days.

"Don't think of me as of ungrateful one, brother, I am happy to be home, to see you alive and well. But why did you ask for me to come here now? After all those years of no letters, no words, no news." Viserys sighed and looked at the model on his table thoughtfully.

"You know how often I dreamt about visiting Old Valyria. To visit the place where we came from. And not just ruins. But the great glorious Valyria. Before it was swallowed by the flames that had created it before. For only dragons can kill dragons." He said gloomily and looked at you seriously. "Our family needs to stay together. To stay strong. Now more than ever. I cannot have you be somewhere far away. It is not fair. A dragon should never be alone. Especially in the hour like this."

"Did you... See something?" You furrowed your brows, trying to understand his words. Unlike others, you believed your brother, when he told you about his dreams. And if he saw something dangerous approaching now, you definitely would like to know it.

"Nothing in particular. But I am no fool. I may be soft. But I am no fool. My family... Our family. I created a rift that is now too big for me to close." Viserys looked sad and guilty of something that you knew nothing of. "I am scared, brother. That this can be the end of us. All of us." You sighed, looking at your brother. It was like you were once again, just some young boy, listening to your elder brother's doubts about duty and responsibility that were put on his shoulders. "I need you here with me."

"How can a prince that wasn't in the court for years mend the family that never knew him?" You asked him, not believing that you could help. Viserys scoffed.

"You were our tie. You mediated the worst arguements between us. Remember the day that father and I argued so much that he unsheathed his sword? You were the one that made us both apologize to each other and see our wrongs." You shook your head, looking away. He was remembering past, the events so long ago they didn't matter now. "And Queen Alysanne's quarrel with Lady Lannister? You managed to convince the proud lioness into talking with our grandmother in civilised manner. But more than your ability to talk with people, I need you. I need my brother near me. Someone who I can fully trust."

"You have Daemon." You reminded him. Viserys suddenly scowled angrily, standing up. Shakily, he went to the window, looking at the courtyard. You didn't interrupt his thoughts.

"He... He changed. After you were gone, he became bitter and different. More rude, rough, he beated every knight he sparred with to the pulp, nearly killing them. And his betrothal? Seven hells, we had to drag him to the septa, he was cursing, screaming and kicking. He isn't the brother you remember. Daemon is violent, obnoxious, unstoppable, insufferable. He made looking after him harder for me with every word he said. And every action of his always has the second meaning." Your heart clenched at the thought. Of course you heard rumours. He didn't become the Rogue Prince overnight after all. And you knew what Viserys didn't. You knew what exactly made him bitter like this. Your exile, your departure lead him to this. Now he was the one getting exiled, and the thought was enough for a wave of guilt to wash over you. "I am too guilty in this. Always trying to limit his words, his influence. Always trusting others rather than my own brother. And when I asked him to come and help me, to fix our relationship, he refused. Daemon hates us both, I think." He turned to you, looking at you bitterly and sadly at the same time. "Why did father let you go?" That took you by surprise.

"Let me... Go?" You looked at him confusedly.

"Father told us that you commited heavy crime and when he wanted to punish you, you chose to go away. He let you take your dragon and you left." You laughed nervously, not believing in what you had just heard. "Is this not true?"

"No, I just... I realised how messed up this sounds." You could have hated your father even more this second. But what good would it do to hate on a dead person. And... Maybe this lie would better stay the truth in their minds. It was for the better. If they would find out that all that time they could bring your home, end your exile that was brought upon you by your father... Viserys already looked guilty of his decisions of which you knew nothing about. No. You couldn't bring more guilt upon his head. "I can't explain you the reason. It wasn't treason, I can say that much."

"Even grandsire agreed with your departure, making it almost look like an exile. What did you do so wrong? Is there any bastard? Murder? What is it?" He pressed the matter, but you looked at him seriously and calmly.

"I won't say, Viserys, don't ask. I know the reason. But there are no white-haired children in Braavos. No skeleton of a victim. There were no consequences to my crime. Only my... You can say exile."

"Your exile brought a lot of consequences on its own..." He snapped back and suddenly clutched his side with a grunt. The man shook his head, when you tried to help him. He walked to the table with what you presumed were medicine from the maesters. "And I want you now to fix them. To serve the realms as you should have. I need you here now, not in Braavos with some merchants."

You sighed, looking at the model on the table again. Were Viserys thoughts and doubts truthful? Were there any possibilities of your house falling prey to its own kin? If so, there should have been no other thoughts, but... If your brother was mistaken and the situation wasn't as gravely as it sounded, you would just get stuck in the court full of the people your own brother-king didn't trust. At the same time you had nothing to lose. You had nothing in Braavos except for a few friends, and they could protect themselves and even prolong their protection to you, whether there should be any need for this. Nothing held you in place.

Though one thing you knew for sure. You wanted to help your family. To be part of it and not just gather some news and rumours like they were strangers to you. You stood up, looking determined at your brother, who finished his medicine and glanced up at your now standing figure.

"I will do what I can for the sake of our family, my king."

***

Daemon loved being in court just for the sake of irritating that cunt of a Hand and his daughter. Just to make sure that they worry about his actions or words. He was thriving off of making their lives miserable and not easier in any case. They hurt his family, he would hurt them. But on the other side...

Daemon hated being in court because of all these snakes and vultures, hiding behind polite words and small smiles, waiting for the right moment to strike. Trust noone and nothing. Not even the ones you think of as your friends. Always prepare for the worst. He learned it the hard way.

So he couldn't say he wanted to come. Not when Rhaenyra was pregnant with their first child, not when the wounds of what had happened on Driftmark were still fresh. But when Viserys asked them all to come, saying that it was extremely important for him, they obeyed, mostly Rhaenyra. She didn't want to hurt her father more, she wanted to see him, wishing for him to forgive them for rushed escape. For their secret wedding. She didn't want to leave him alone with these people. Neither wanted Daemon, even if he didn't say it outloud. So now they all sat at the big table in the throne room, the feast in full swing.

"What is the occasion?" Jacaerys asked them quietly, children not understanding what was going on either. He casted glances at the other side of the table, where queen's children sat, glancing hatefully at them . Rhaenyra caressed his hand with a little smile. She was tired by her pregnancy and long journey, but still happy and glowing.

"Our King asked us to be present. Don't fret too much." She leaned back on her chair and glanced at her husband. "Daemon, maybe you know? Are there any rumours?" She quietly asked. Prince shrugged.

"No idea." He answered shortly, looking at the whole court attending the feast that was thrown for whatever reason there was. The fact that the Queen left empty seat beside herself spoke louder than rumours. An important guest? Possible. But throwing a feast for someone coming in the capital?

The food was rich, wine was flowing, festive music was playing, overlaying the voices of court, talking with each other. It looked like another wedding. Daemon scoffed to his thoughts. If there was another wedding and there wouldn't be any murder by the end of it, he would be thoroughly disappointed. Finally, the King stood up, the music quieted down and the court got silent. Daemon prepared to listen to what he had to say, genuinely curious to what was going on.

"My lords! My ladies! Our feast is of no usual cause. For today is the big day for my family and for the crown." He started. "Many years ago, my family made a decision that had dire consequences for all of us. And I decided to fix mistake that was made long ago. To mend the rift that caused a lot of pain in our family. Today is the day I am happy man again. As this is the day my brother returns." Daemon's smirk went out as fast as if the wind blew it away. It couldn't be... Noticing the movement out of the corner of his eye, he immediately glanced at the man entering the throne room and his whole body tensed up.

It was you. Y/N. His lēkia (elder brother). The three-headed dragon. The Gone Prince. The man, who plagued his dreams many years ago. The man, who visited his nightmares from time to time. The one he had loved so much, he hated with all his being now.

"You can't possibly ask me this question... Don't wiggle!" You turned his head again. Daemon groaned, he didn't like anyone touching his hair, but your fingers always brought him comfort.

"What? I just asked when you understood that you love me. Was it after our third night?" He fiddled with his fingers, while you gently braid his hair, intertwining the strands in the pattern only you knew.

"Interesting question..." You mused from behind him. For a moment there was silence, but when Targaryen wanted to ask you again, you continued. "I guess the first time I was able to hold you. You were small, nearly a year. Me and Viserys sneaked into the nursery, we wanted to look at you without the entourage of maesters and mother's maids, you know?" Daemon scoffed, knowing full well just how pestering they could be.

"You fell in love with an infant?"

"I fell in love with you, Daemon. Viserys was afraid he would drop you, so I took you in my arms myself. You fit in my hands just right. And when you opened your eyes and looked at me... Oh..." You put your hands on his shoulders and kissed his head. "I knew I would die for you." Daemon pressed his lips together and turned to you carefully, to not disturb your work on his hair.

"I want to know you my whole life. You were at the start of it. Don't... Don't die before me. I want your love for my whole life." He asked in a whisper. You were slowly becoming his beacon. You sometimes joked he became obsessed and got you obsessed with him in the process. What started as a fling with the one you knew, grew into once a month thing. Once a week. And now the youngest prince wasn't sure there could be a day he could go without seeing you.

"Ñuha prūmia (my heart)." You whispered, as you bent to him, placing your hands on his cheeks. "Kivin (I promise), I will always love you. And I will never leave you alone. I swear."

You left him at the dawn of the day, shortly after his ten and sixth nameday. You left him alone, without letter or any explanation. Without any word his whole world betrayed him

And now you were back. Alive, well, almost happy to stand there without any guilt or doubt. Daemon tuned out Viserys' voice, his centre of attention at the man before him. He didn't feel his fingers gripping the hilt of his dagger, emotions overflowing him. Slice your throat, cut your head away, away with your posture, smile, eyes, off with you in his life again...

"Daemon?" He shivered, whipping his head to look at worried and confused Rhaenyra. She held her hand on his wrist in which he gripped his dagger. "Are you alright, my love?" The court burst with ovations, as the man in front of the table bowed to the King and went to sit at the table. At the fucking spot next to the Queen. Daemon took the goblet with the wine, drinking it down with one big gulp.

"More than ever..."

***

It was unusual for you. Something long forgotten from the other life. There were no such rich celebrations in your honour in Braavos. Good dinner with couple of your friends or people whom you helped, maybe. But not this. Feasts with the whole court attending, big family at the table... It made you nostalgic.

Alicent was friendly enough. She talked with you, introduced her children to you. She tried to seem nice and pleasant. But you never forgot the lessons of the Good Queen. You always seeked out more in people than they showed. You noticed in her eyes something bigger than usual politeness. Something more. She chose her words carefully, she used only hushed and warm tones of her voice. There were different reasons for her friendliness, you just knew it.

While the Queen was talking about something, you were looking around the court. Different houses, both familiar and unknown faces. Your gaze went to the royal table. Your niece, Rhaenyra, her sons and...

You shivered, meeting Daemon's hard stare calmly. You remembered when everything was different. His eyes, once burning with passion for you, lightening up every time he saw you. His open face, his wish and happiness to talk with you. His longing to go with you to the end of the world and beyond it. Now his face was unreadable to you. His eyes were cold and almost menacing. Daemon hated you. He should be, your father made sure of that, lying to them about you leaving on your own accord. But he achieved his goal of prying you out of your brother's heart, leaving no roots of the love you shared.

Looking at how Daemon looked after his wife, your heart clenched. He poured her drink, whispered something to her, as she smiled at her husband. You downed your wine in one gulp. There was no point in telling him the truth now. Your heart could take it, even if the thought alone hurt like hell.

You weren't his King anymore, for he had the Queen now. And you... You were just gone.

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Helpful, in a Heterodyne Kind of Way

inspired by this post, Saturnus Heterodyne, doting grandfather, attempting to find Agatha a PROPER boyfriend

AO3 Link

“No.”

Saturnus blinked.

“Did you say something, dear?”

Teodora approached like a tidal wave and hit about as hard. Saturnus went stumbling back, clutching at his jaw, but Teodora kept coming, punctuating her words with hard jabs to his chest.

“You will not kill my sons. You will abdicate to Bill. You will let him rule Mechanicsburg, his way, and you will like it, or so help me, Saturnus Heterodyne, I will break you.”

Saturnus stared at his wife, who seemed to tower over him like the god queens of old.

“…yes, dear.”

“I don’t like him.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, but did it fondly.

“You never like any of them.”

“And I definitely don’t like this one. Sturmvoraus, pah! And a Valois! Weaselly little devils, with their poisons and their smoke knights and their secret assassinations…”

“I’m sorry, you don’t like them because they kill people?” Agatha asked, raising her eyebrows.

“They don’t kill people properly!” Saturnus bellowed, thumping his fist down on the arm of his chair. “The only reason a man needs to poison a knife is because he’s not good enough to kill you without it!”

“Well, I thought he was very charming.”

“That sister of his had promise,” Saturnus said, perking up a little. “There’s a girl who understands leadership.”  

“She wanted to flense the servants because they didn’t hem her dress correctly.”

“So she’s a bit of a project,” Saturnus said, dismissively. “You always liked a challenge.”

“I think I’ll give this particular one a miss, thanks,” Agatha said, with deep amusement.

Saturnus’ expression grew serious, and he gripped her hand tightly.

“I know you’re all grown up, and you don’t need looking after anymore—especially not by some miserable old codger,” he said, earnestly, “but when I’m gone—”

“Grandfather, please,” Agatha said, rolling her eyes. “You’re not that old—”

“When I’m gone,” Saturnus continued, insistent, “I want to go knowing you’ve got a partner in life who will make you happy. Someone who can keep up with you, support you, love you properly. Someone who deserves you.”  

“Someone who would be willing to help me burn Europa to the ground if I suddenly decide to take up the family traditions?” Agatha asked, with a quirk of a smile.

“Well, that goes without saying.”

Agatha’s smile spread, becoming soft and genuine. She leaned down and kissed the top of her grandfather’s head.  

“You are a terrible old man,” she said, “and I love you very much.”

She slipped out of the room. When her footsteps faded into the distance, Saturnus sighed and maneuvered his chair—a fantastic device Agatha had built him, with dozens of little legs that could navigate the castle's many stairs and even the steep road down to Mechanicsburg—over to the window.

After a few minutes, he saw his granddaughter emerge from the castle, followed at a respectable distance by two Jӓger guards.

“She’s the Lady of Mechanicsburg,” he said aloud. “She deserves an equal. She deserves the best. Certainly deserves better than her father got.”

Oh yes, Lucrezia Mongfish. Saturnus had approved, quite profusely, even encouraged Bill to see her. And how had that ended?

With a war that nearly leveled Europa, Bill and Barry vanished, a grave smaller than its headstone, and a little girl named Lady of Mechanicsburg before she was twelve.  

Perhaps he should know better than to meddle, after all that.

‘I did overhear a very interesting conversation between Master Tarvek and his sister.’

“Hmm?” Saturnus said, only half-listening.

‘Do you recall Master Bill and Barry’s friend, Klaus Wulfenbach?’

Saturnus screwed up his face.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, he’s far too old for her!”

‘I was actually thinking of his son. Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, heir to the Wulfenbach Empire?’

Saturnus rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. The Wulfenbach Empire was impressive, and Klaus was ruling with a proper, iron fist—while remaining respectful of Mechanicsburg’s continued autonomy, which Saturnus could only assume was Klaus being smart enough not to start a war he couldn’t win.

“Mmm,” he said, reluctantly. “But Klaus did have his hero phase, running around Europa with the boys, fixing all kinds of problems. That sort of thing can be heritable, you know.”

Just look at Agatha! Nature over nurture his left foot.

‘Not a concern,’ the castle said, smoothly. ‘The boy is adopted.’

“Really?” Saturnus said, now more interested. “Do we know his background, then?”

‘Do you remember Petrus Teuful?’

Saturnus froze. Slowly he raised his head to look at the ceiling.

“Petrus Teuful?”

‘Oh yes.’

“The Black Mist Raiders, that Petrus Teuful?”

‘The very same.’ The castle was very smug.

Saturnus’s astonished expression slowly spread into a wide, devious grin.

“Well…perhaps we shall have Master Gilgamesh over…for dinner. Heh. Aheheh. Hahaha. Ha. Hahaha! Haahahaha!”

Thunder crashed overhead as Saturnus’ laughter echoed over Mechanicsburg. Agatha put her hands on her hips and tutted, glaring up at the castle.

“Oh, now he knows he’s not supposed to do that. It agitates his sciatica.”

[syddsatyrn]

Chapter 1 ⛤ Chapter 2 ⛤ Chapter 3 ⛤ Chapter 4 ⛤ Chapter 5 Masterlist

⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x FemReader

⛤Warnings: Swearing, drinking, smoking, fluff, friends to lovers, drug use

⛤Words: 2k

⛤Song: "Photograph" By Def Leppard

⛤Summary: Moving away from Hawkins was the biggest mistake of your life. You left your best friends and forgot to stay in touch. Years later, you decide to hit up your good friend Steve. Its time to make a plan and make amends. The one thing you didn't expect was feelings to resurface when you saw your old highschool crush.

⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. @hellfiremunsonn is my trusty beta reader, go check out their fics! They are so good!

⛤Chapter 3: Reunion Eddie unlocks the front door of his apartment, he's trying to be extra careful not to make any noise. He looks over at the couch and quickly notices Dustin snoring away. He slowly shut the door behind him and carried on down the hallway. Upon entering his bedroom, he flipped the light switch, and nestled in his bed was Y/N. A figure he did not anticipate whatsoever. “....Y/N?” He almost thought he was dreaming. You sat up quickly, entirely shocked by the sight in front of you. You exchanged glances, the air was filled with so many unspoken questions. Eddie is trying to mentally make sense of the sight before him. His face starts to turn red as he slowly realizes his high school crush is sleeping in his bed. “Eddie?!” You are so confused, Steve said he wouldn't be back for a couple of days. Is this some kind of setup? Goddammit Steve. “I am SO sorry.” You frantically roll out of his bed and stand there, searching for some kind of expression on Eddie’s face. “Steve must have been confused, he said you wouldn't be home for a couple of days. We made a plan and I came out to surprise you guys.” “Well…I’m certainly surprised.” He says as he sets his bags down. He approaches you and immediately wraps his arms around your shoulders. “It's so good to see you, Y/N.” He says, just barely above a whisper. You were rendered speechless, your face was pressed against his chest. He kisses the top of your head, something he always used to do. You wrapped your arms around his midsection and it took everything in you to fight back those reunion tears. It was a long hug, one that had to make up for years of physical and emotional distance. He finally lets go, and you meet his gaze. “It’s good to see you too, Eddie.” You say with a smile, he hasn't changed a bit. His hair is a little longer, but he still wears the same ripped jeans, leather jacket, and silver rings. “I’m the one who should be sorry, I came home early. My last show was canceled due to bad weather.” Eddie explains, “I should have called but I didn’t have time to use a phone.” He snags one of the cigarettes off the bedside table and lights it. “No it's cool, I’m really happy to see you.” You say as you sit back down on the edge of Eddie's bed. “How was your tour? I heard your band is doing well nowadays.” “We are actually! I feel like we’ve made a serious breakthrough in the industry. The tour was fun, I got to see New York. The food was amazing, the fans are a blast.” “Oh wow, so you’re like a big celebrity now, huh?” You tease, Eddie smirks and takes a drag off his cigarette. He walks over to his bags and puts his guitar in the empty guitar stand. “Hardly. How have you been? I haven't heard from you in forever and suddenly you end up in my bed?” He inquires, still holding on to that prominent smirk. “Things got pretty intense when we moved, it was like everything in my life came crashing down around me. I feel really bad about not keeping in touch with you guys. When I planned this with Steve I knew I would have to make some apologies.” You finally admit to him that you could have done better. Every time you didn't call or stay in touch it made you feel guilty. After some time it felt like a stupid, awkward thing to do. So you tried to forget about it, a big mistake on your part. It was time for you to explain yourself and make up for being so detached. “It's no big thing, sweetheart,” Eddie says as he sits next to you on the bed. “You can sleep in my bed, I can take the floor.” “No! I would feel terrible. Just…Just share it with me. It's fine, there's plenty of room.” You can feel your face getting warmer. It’s a pretty big bed so it probably won't get weird, right? “Well…if you’re sure.” He replies, noticing how exhausted you look. “You should get some rest, we can talk more in the morning.” “Thanks, Eddie, you’re a saint.” You crawl back under the covers. “Not even close, darling.” Eddie loosens and kicks off his boots. He walks over to his closet and changes into sweatpants and a fresh T-shirt.

You honestly tried to not glance at the metalhead's slender figure but failed miserably. He has new tattoos you’ve never seen before and he’s gained a bit more muscle in his arms. Eddie pulls a hair tie from his wrist and wraps his hair up in a messy bun. You didn't think Eddie Munson could get any hotter, but he did. Eddie flips the light switch and crawls into bed with you. You turn to face him and he faces you. This feels familiar, like deja vu.

“If this is too weird let me know.” He says, barely above a whisper. “It’s only weird if you make it weird, Munson.” You respond with a giggle.  ------------- The morning sun beams through the window, you can hear the sound of cars driving by the apartments. You open your eyes and gaze at the soft yellow glow pouring into the room.  The bed was so warm and comfortable, you never wanted to leave. You roll over and immediately realize you’ve curled up next to Eddie rather close. He’s You hear a couple of knocks on the door and Steve calls your name.  “Hey Y/N, I brought you a cup of coffee, open up.” You roll out of bed and open the bedroom door. Steve hands you the cup of coffee with a smile. “Good morning sunsh–” He trails off after he sees Eddie reluctantly sit up and rub his sleepy eyes. You could see the gears turning in his brain as he put two and two together. just snoozing away like nothing is happening, completely unaware of the fact that he was nearly spooning you. 

“When did you get home?!” Steve asks, a puzzled look on his face. “Last night.” Eddie yawns, “How come I don't get any coffee, Harrington?” He jokes with a sleepy grin. Steve gives you a look that immediately translates to “That didn’t take long”. You follow Steve to the kitchen and prepare a cup of coffee for Eddie.

“So did you guys–” You cut him off and he snorts. 

“No! Of course not!” Your face gets red and Steve can't stop laughing at how flustered you’re getting. You try to keep your voice down because Dustin is still sleeping like a rock on the couch. “Why would you say that?!” “Okay okay! I was just asking.” He says feeling satisfied by your unsettled expression. You take the coffee to Eddie’s room and Steve finishes up the bacon and pancakes.

Eddie is sitting upright, still trying to wake up. He smiles at you when you hand him a cup of coffee. “Thank you, sweetheart.” he says and pats the spot next to him, asking you to come sit.

Steve walks in with three plates of food. He hands one to Eddie and he practically scarfs it down. How long has it been since he last ate?? Steve sat on the floor in front of you and began cutting apart his pancakes with his fork.

“So, what's on the agenda today?” Steve asks with his mouth semi-full. 

“I’m not sure yet, I just got here.” Eddie replies, “Isn't Robin coming by?”

“Yeah but who knows when that will be.” Steve answers and shrugs.

The knock at the door was so on cue it was amazing. Dustin rolls off the couch and opens the door. 

“Hey kiddo, you’re still here?” Robin asks. Dustin gives her a drowsy nod and she laughs. You could recognize her voice and hopped up off the bed and rushed out into the hallway. Robin sees you and stops dead in her tracks. She's completely floored, her eyes are wide and her mouth is agape. Suddenly, without any warning you both start screaming and running towards each other. “Oh my god, you are here?!” She shouts and you scream “I am!” Robin wraps her arms around you and you do the very same. She squeezed you so tight you might explode. She is still as energetic as ever. Robin has been your best friend since middle school. You’ve missed her so much you almost start to cry.

“I can't believe you are here, I thought you dropped off the face of the planet!” She says and you laugh. “Honestly, I was just really depressed.” You reply. “I’m sorry for being a bad friend.” You sit back down and finish your breakfast, Robin leans against the doorframe. She gives Steve a suspicious look, “Is this why you wouldn't let me come over yesterday?” Steve almost chokes on his food. “I mean, yeah but we were planning a surprise! We are all going to hideout tonight to celebrate.” “I’m totally in, but do you think I could steal Y/N for the day?” Robin looks at Steve and Steve glances at Eddie. Why is Eddie suddenly your keeper? “As long as you wash her and bring her back.” Eddie chimes in and you laugh and gently shove him with your shoulder. “Hell yes! Let's go shopping. I need new shoes.” Robin cheers, and you giggle at Eddie's dumb comment. You grab your duffle bag on the floor and take it to the bathroom with you to get dressed. You grabbed a black t-shirt, and a pair of ripped jeans, and topped off your look with classic Converse. After adding silver rings and chains to your look you smooth out your shirt and look in the mirror. You add a touch of makeup to cover up the fact that you didn't get much sleep. After all the preparation, you meet Robin at the door. “You ready?” She asks as you grab your jacket and your wallet. You nod and wave at Eddie, who finally made his way to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee. “I’ll be back later, guys!” You announce. All three of the boys say goodbye in unison, which ultimately makes you laugh. After deciding to take Robin’s car, you both hop in and buckle your seatbelts. “Okay okay, tell me everything.” Robin says while pulling out of the parking lot. “Oh god, where do I even start?” You let out a groan, “Okay, first of all, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I abandoned you guys, that was really lame of me. I missed you all so much.” “Apology accepted.” Robin said. “I was never mad at you, I figured life had gotten in the way. I almost wanted to track you down and show up on your doorstep.” She laughs and you smile at her. “I would have totally been cool with that.” You reply. “Where are we going anyway?” “To Starcourt mall.” She finally tells you. “That place still exists?!” You ask. Robin and Steve used to work at this ice cream shop in the food court. You would visit them during their shift almost every day. “I know, I am just as surprised as you are.” Robin replies with a laugh.

[thehistoriangirl]

Without Compromise [2]

I'm baaaack!!! With porn as a treat for my absence <3

Viktor x Fem! Reader-------4.9K-----NSFW

[ M A S T E R L I S T ]

<- Previous /// Next ->

Synopsis:Viktor had never enjoyed any snobby party held in the luxurious districts around the Academy, though he can't deny this one is rather... peculiar. Still, when accompanying Jayce to another boring celebration ends with him stuck in an awkward situation when a stranger wanders inside the lab asking for him, he can´t help but comply with the unpredictable threads of a mocking fate--how else would he, from all the assisting guests, be inside in this mess?

Chapter Summary: Nights are fleeting, just as all the things you do in the dark...

Tags: | Blind Date | One Night Stand goes wrong -> | Matchmaking Shenenigans | Semi-public Sex | Oral Sex (both receiving) | Voyeurism (kinda) | Strangers to Lovers | Friends with Benefits | Smut and Light Angst|

Taglist: @blissfulip @ihopeinevergetsoberr @slycazzz @vyshnevska

Second

Silence and dimmed lights became guardians shielding you from prying eyes,  perfect accomplices and only witnesses of how his hand perfectly fit against interlaced fingers once you led him away from the crowded dance floor. The gates of the exit shone with their golden handles, and Viktor was so ready to feel the characteristic tug of regret like a knot against his throat once you pulled them open, thief of his controlled breathing.

Yet, all he got was the growing lust burning deep inside him once his fingers already memorized the curves of your supple hips—knowing that they’d be even softer once you blessed him with the unrestricted touch of them without the fabric hugging your legs.

His golden gaze swept over your sweet form; such a beautiful fairy that had now enchanted him with your twinkling eyes and delicious mouth. Was it a response of the alcohol he’d been indulging in to stop boredom from creeping?

Perhaps. Though his mouth worked just fine, as he tested it while pressing your back against the rail of the staircase, body tilted over the edge for his arms to become your safety. Futile attempt to melt in with you, as it seemed distance was a cruel thing, to dare get between you two.

You cooed a restrained moan against his mouth once your hips rolled away the hard edge of the carved rail, wishing to relish in the supposed softness of his body, only to find an eager hardness that caught his breath.

Viktor grunted once feeling your hand palming him, a contented hum escaping your swollen lips. “What an improper Fairy you are,” he muttered, his warm hand pulling yours away, rough fingers, marked with tiny cutting scars and so many hours tinkering away interlacing against yours, elegant and soft.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to make it back to my apartment.”

“If you keep touching me like that, certainly no.”

 Despite your tone denoting shyness, you flashed him a beam that promised him trouble. “I believe we can make it in time if we hurry…”

Such little minx. With the way you jumped over each step of the staircase, waiting him patiently for him to descend. The movement made your body bounce in all the right places, probably the origin of his sudden dry throat.

Viktor had to slow down, not only for the familiar burn on his leg, or because the grab of his cane got shaky and unreliable; but for the strain against his pants, the seam between his legs both painful and alluring on its pressure.

He wondered if your hands could serve the same sensations.

Your sudden squeal tore him away from his daydreamings. Looking down, Viktor saw your figure tripping at the edge of the stair.

Grabbing onto the railing, you shoot him a pout as seeing him chuckling. “You’re mean,” you said, kneeling to see the problem your shoe was facing. Your poor left heel had broken.

“Someone needed to put a stop to you.”

“It should had been you.” Your smile was triumphant despite the circumstances.

Viktor sighed on his best attempt to appear unbothered, the touch of your fingers grazing as if lighting had struck his skin, a pull as if woken up from a long sleep into a gentle spring morning. “Let me see.” He hummed, looking at the part of the heel that had come unglued to the rest of the shoe. “I think I can fix it. Eh, do you know any place that could have nails, glue and a hammer around here, by chance?”

You nodded, flooding his senses with your unmistakable, rich perfume and the way your hand loved to squeeze his as if by instinct.

“I know a place. Follow me.”

By the time you arrived at the glass greenhouse, the light rain had soaked your hair and Viktor was so thankful for how the water had glued the silk dress against your skin. His warms fingers skimmed over your silhouette as you searched for a small beacon in the form of your desk lamp.

Otherwise bathed by silver moonlight, the beacon showed the golden details of your mask, your wet lips as your teeth continued biting them when Viktor knew it should be his to grace that favor.

Fixing a shoe was nothing compared with the machinery he worked with every day; his hands found the unfamiliar tools strangely comfortable, polished wood of the hammer’s handle from the constant use of your fingers; the delicate outline of your shoe against his palm, just as the incredibly thin heel you’d been supporting your poor ankles in.

From the darkness, he saw flapping wings skimming from tree branch to tall bushes, some of those curious little animals drawn to the light of your lamp.

“What is this place?” he said, observing the multicolored moths, yellow and pink, and white and blue all gather over the desk.

“It’s a greenhouse for moth-keeping,” you explained, happily petting one of the bolder moths landing on your bodice. “In each section we have an eclipse of a specific species. They live their last days here.”

“I think I should’ve asked why you know all that?” Viktor sat at the edge of a shallow fountain, the current of water falling gently against the quiet ambiance.

“Oh! I’m a lepidopterist. I study moths.” You rummage on the bottom drawer of your desk covered in stunning drawings of moths. “See?”

From the emotion of the moment, you had forgot to hide your name with the pads of your fingers as you’ve done with your ID number. By the dim interior it was barely visible, with only some letters he could try make sense of.

Viktor was content with the anonymity—no attachments that would conduct to no regrets. He could be his shameless self without feeling the restraint of his public image, of the well-crafted image of gentleman. Behind the image of hard-working inventor.

But the last name rung like an emergency bell. Member of a renown research family in the Biology Department, mostly for exotic species overseas.

“Here it is,” Viktor announced, pride blooming in his chest when the shoe got restored to its former self, white lace flown delicately to hug your ankle, flowers made of cotton sewn into the front to match with the dress.

He looked at you before giving you the shoe, the skirt of your dress brushing his pants as you tried to lift it off. His eyes couldn’t stop the alluring path marked by the fabric, the middle line of your thighs and what such valley waited for him between your legs.

Again, he expected the regret to come in waves; shamefully looking away as he found a pitiful excuse to leave.

Instead, he stood up from the edge of the fountain and knelt in front of you, thanking the soft grass for being kind with his leg. Though he knew it wouldn’t matter. If instead of grass it would be a rock or mosaic or bland dirt.

He felt himself burning that he doubted he’d care if these were alight embers.

The sight was heavenly, being knelt in front of a vision, a goddess of unruly hair shining like an untamed halo, a butterfly mask hiding your features, though he could still saw those eyes that burned with lust and desire. Core exposed to his greedy gaze while he took the sight of your underwear, lace outlining that little, pretty piece of clothing Viktor wanted so badly to rip off you.

He felt his cock twitch inside his pants, wishing to be free. To be cradled into your loving, curious palm. To be taken inside of your warmth, wet folds. Maybe even your mouth…

And all that could occur tonight. Because you wanted him—without caring who he was or what he could do for you. Just for being… him. And he wanted you, so, so badly. And such reciprocation was the push of bravery he needed, taking your ankle with one of his talented hands, the weight of it welcomed on his shoulder.

Curiosity prickled his restless mind. He wanted to know more. Forbidden territory.

You tugged his hair, buckling your hips against his face once his breath caressed the burning skin.

He smiled, beckoning your ethereal being, a dream that would slip off his hands next morning.

He better made your time together count.

His gaze was dark and rich, like addicting whiskey, just as intoxicating as the aroma of your body lotion now all wrapped around him. An enticing embrace he wanted to melt into.

Fingers caressed the supple skin of your thighs, your flesh soft and pliant under his needy, hungry touch. Such a sinew way up your leg, all the curves, from your calf to your knee to the curve of your butt.

And then, between them, the flashing of an innocent, beige cotton fabric.

Viktor smirked at seeing the dark spot leaking from it; perfectly drawn in the middle where your core was.

You squirmed under his playful fingers, hands greedy to gather your skirts up and yet not so much or else you couldn’t see his eyes freezing you in place, like a prey ready to lounge.

To feast.

“Sir…” you keened, his name never making its way to your memory. What would be the point, if everything was meant to end after tonight? His hair was so soft under your hand, nails scratching his scalp as you urged him to continue. He was so close, and you were so sure you’d be too, very soon.

He grunted in half indignation, half aroused at your hair tugging. “You’re going to dishevel my hair, little Fairy.”

“I’ll help you brush it once you’re done.” You helped him, hooking your thigh up his shoulder, until you felt his hot breath hit the soaking spot between your legs, still not ready enough as there was fabric interposing between his gaze and your skin.

“Hmm, I don’t believe you’d have the energy for that,” he teased, only half-joking. Teeth bit your inner thigh, if only to taste your tangy skin, salty and  sweet from the lotion, parched with the distinctive, alkali flavor of your arousal.

Your hips buckled closer, and such eagerness made him take lick from that wet spot seeping through your panties. His gaze threatened to close shut, his taste buds overflown by the savor of you against his lapping tongue, its tip wishing to circle your clit even through the fabric.

Viktor would’ve wished to record the sound elicited from your mouth inside his brain, to keep in all the rest of lonely nights he’ll go through, just as his memory engraved the sensation of his nose buried against the throbbing button of your pleasure. Fingers digging at the waistband of your underwear.

You writhed as Viktor’s fingers outlined your ass cheeks, feeling the cold surface of the marble fountain under your naked skin once your lacy clothes got wrapped like a messy ribbon around his skillful hand. 

With a single lap, Viktor ended with his chin coated in your arousal, tongue enjoying the soaking wet, plush, rosy skin between your folds. Methodical licks to explore every corner, blowing cold air over your molten core, becoming his experiment; lips sucking your little bud to enjoy how you squealed in surprise. Your body still bouncing and rubbing against his face, enjoying the roughness added for the outline of his black mask.

The greenhouse bathed in silver moonlight displayed you like a work of art, closed off from many eyes as Viktor wished to keep you in his bedroom, with your heaving chest, sweaty body, a muse he would love to have in a print tucked in the pocket on his chest—no, he would get you inside his room, prompted in the wall in front of his bed so you could help alleviate the terrible insomnia that sometimes sieged him.

He licked your clit in different rhythms, always eager in the matter of discovery even when it was about pleasure. Which made you pull his hair the hardest. So, Viktor could be a little mean, his well trimmed nails still leaving crescent marks in the supple flesh of your thighs as he pulled them upwards, the more open the better.

Such pushes would make your walls flutter against his mouth, now marked forever with the overwhelming, luscious taste of ripe fruit and sweetness and the alkaline aftertaste you left on his now puffy tongue.

His golden eyes beckoned you, chest heaving that he thought you’d rip the clothing of your corset. And what a beautiful sight was your crumpled skirt around your heavenly body, like a cloud surrounding a goddess that had come to bestow him with the loving, unbridled touches of passion which otherwise would be fleeting for such a busy and lonely scientist as he was.

“Sir…” you cooed, legs still parted so he could see your pretty rosy walls keep fluttering around nothing, surely glistening just as much as his coated chin. “Let me kiss you.”

Viktor chuckled, using his cane to propel himself up his wobbly legs. Your eyes followed the movement, standing up next to him, which made him frown upon the now lost sight of your beautiful legs.

“Sit,” you hummed, pressing your hand over his chest to guide him toward the edge of the chirping fountain, the only witness of your union. “You should rest.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” Viktor retorted, groaning at the claustrophobic grasp his pants were trapping his cock, an unmistakable sight that made you chuckle—such a mischievous sound for someone looking so adorable. It made him want to uncover you whole, a crime that you were hiding under such ethereal costume. “Look what have you done to me.”

Completely stripping him of the decorum asked in this society, away of the otherwise ear-shattering scream of reason resounding on his mind. This could end his career, the one he so hard had worked to build. This would convince everyone that he was a degenerate, a threat for Piltover’s proper society.

Still, you didn’t feel like a threat. Not in the way you so delicately unbuttoned his pants, ignoring the bland white trousers underneath as your nails scratched the bushy trail of his navel to find what you were looking for.

You hummed, gently taking him in your hand, red and hard. It was impossible for him to hold in a groan, sensing his twitching cock against your exhaled sigh, fingers enveloping his shaft.

“Little Fairy…” he could barely mumble, feeling his face bright red. He wished it to sound like a nag, but it was more like a plea.

“You’re big,” you said with a stunning beam, lifting up your skirt and pushing it against his chest, with him still cradled in your hand. “Go easy on me, hmm?”

You sat on his lap, legs innocently swinging in the air as you turned to face him.

Viktor frowned. “Wha—” his civilized words were wiped out, replaced by a primitive groan that had won the fight between reason and need once again. But he just couldn’t. You were so wet and tight, yet inviting, eager to burrow him into the deepest part of your core. Almost as if knowing that otherwise he would leave and never return. “Miss Fairy,” he breathed. “We’re in a public space and…”

“And what?” you said, nibbling down his jawline. Even if he couldn’t see you, he felt your smile. “Are you afraid someone could see us? But why? If you’re pleasuring me so, so well.” You smiled, cradling his face. “It would serve them as a lesson.”

You cooed happily at feeling his cock twitch, your thighs now surrounding his lean hips, not caring that your shoes were wetting wet against the edge of the fountain. Not even the freezing water could distract you from the fire coursing through both of you when he directed your face to kiss you, filling your mouth with the taste of you, with his active tongue ready to play tug-of-war with yours for control.

“Are you afraid of someone knowing that you’ve claimed me tonight?” you said, and even if the words stirred a primal part of him with a pulsating yes, you��re as mine as I’m yours; his reason opened ways over the fog clouding his brain.

That’s what you wanted: an escape. An escape from your imminent engagement, of your family’s and Piltover’s expectations. Just like he wanted to be freed of this city’s asphyxiating grasp; with its snob societal rules that declared he should stand back his ability to help for what they desired.

To be caged and judged like an odd animal in a zoo, soon to be discarded if seemed useless.

Viktor had been selfless all his life, yet so lonely; because it wasn’t a secret that people who liked to give rarely get back. But not tonight.

Tonight he desired you. And he wasn’t going to hold back.

“I’m not,” he said, grabbing your hips under your skirts to help you with balance once his started to move, seeking to reach the deepest part of your pussy, so warmth and welcoming.

You moaned, your hands easing on his shoulders as you started to ride him. Those pretty squelchy sounds barely audible over the flowing water of the fountain.

“Sir… oh, Sir…” you called, the corset of your dress brushing against his chest in a bouncing motion, with Viktor’s hands itching to unlace it and feel the delicate curve of your back, how would you shiver with the mix of his caresses and the feather-like kisses down your neck.

Yet still among the cacophony of his roaring heart and your breathy song, Viktor noticed the odd shadow peeking over some topiaries, recognizing the golden glow of Sylvester’s brushed back hair.

He should’ve felt shame. Fear, perhaps. You’ve been caught, it was over. It had to be.

Viktor bore his gaze toward the shadow in a defying mockery, your words echoing as his hips continued to move, every time more erratically than the last, lost in the warmth of your intimate embrace. He only let your skirt fall down—to cover you, because he was a gentleman after all.

“Kiss me, Little Fairy,” Golden gaze looking up at your ajar lips and half-closed eyelids with reverence.

It should serve them as a lesson, you’ve said, and Viktor believed it. He doubted that bland man over there could make you squirm and coo as he did, to mold you in the perfect sculpture of pleasure.

You giggled, brushing your nose against him. “Always.”

The shadow loomed closer, furious stomps breaking branches and echoing against the cobblestone path. You didn’t notice, and Viktor didn’t care, smirking against your messy kiss, revitalized tongue wishing to memorize every corner your mouth.

“My Little Fairy…” he said, if only for the unwelcomed presence. Kissing down the elegant curve of your neck to leave a bite in the joint between shoulder and neck. “There you go,” Viktor hummed, surprised that you didn’t mind such unnecessary proof of your encounter. “Such a goddess…”

He looked at Sylvester, daring him to cross the circle of light.

So he could see how you deserved to be pleased.

Your body trembled, halting your dance. “Ah—,” you breathed, and Viktor felt your walls squeeze him oh so deliciously.

It had been a while since Viktor had sex. Because he knew using his hand in the shower didn’t count. So he tried to hold in the incessant waves of pleasure sieging him. Biting his lip, closing his eyes shut.

By the next blink, the intruder had disappeared, only leaving a trail of moving branches on its wake.

“Sir…” you called with a giggle. “What are you doing?”

“N-nothing…”

“You’re a terrible liar,” you said, leaning to cradle his cheeks with your hands and give him a deep, slow kiss as you started to move sensually, slowly, feeling the soft cotton of his pants brush your thighs, his panting breath crashing against your collarbones that were by now peppered in kisses. “Come on. Finish. I don’t mind.”

“I think you should finish first, Little Fairy,” Viktor leaned your fac to kiss you. “It’s the least a gentleman should do.”

You laughed, voice melting in a choked moan once his rough fingerpad circled your swollen clit, soaked, hot and sensitive.

Your hair tickled the curve of his neck once you burrowed your face against it, your essence all tangled in his as he felt you stiffen under his loving cradling.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he muttered against your hair. “Don’t be shy. Let me see you while you finish.” Viktor took your chin, lifting up to meet his gaze as he took in your heavy-lidded eyes, swollen lips panting ajar, such a deep gaze burning against his. “So you don’t forget this humble lover of yours.”

You smiled softly. “This lover of mine,” you whispered, like a secret, your words gone with the wind once your body shook like a leaf, spams hugging his cock, greedily sucking it even deeper, as if you wished to never let him go. “Sir….”

He kissed your forehead, just above the edge of your mask. “My Little Fairy, you’re truly otherworldly.”

“Sir, why didn’t you finish?” you said once Viktor had to begrudgingly put you away, at this point it was marvel that he could keep himself from exploding. He felt a wave of cold hug him, missing your warmth and softness, though he had to stop his longing hand from reaching you once again.

“I… I don’t…”

“Liar,” you hummed, grabbing your puffy skirt as it was your turn to knelt, looking at him with those deep, twinkling doe-like eyes as your rosy tongue poked his tip, getting familiar with the mix of his precum and your essence.

“You’re going to make me lose my mind,” Viktor groaned, looking how your swollen lips traveled all over his shaft, giving little kisses and licks along the sensible, throbbing skin.

He could pull you away, and yet he knew it would’ve been his biggest mistake of the whole night.

“Good,” you mumbled. “That way you would remember me.”

He couldn’t form a coherent sentence when you took him in your mouth. But he doubted he could ever forget the twinkle in your eyes that was filled with curiosity and bravery. They were like nocturne wonders, as you, too, seemed to be only appear at night.

Only tonight, his mind didn’t forget to remind him.

Viktor cupped your hollowed cheeks, feeling your tongue lapping greedily, wishing for him to finish inside your mouth.

It was then when Viktor heard—a miracle among his pounding heartbeat and ragged pants—the metal door of the greenhouse squeak open. Followed by steps. Multiple steps.

He didn’t think twice, taking hold of one of your hands, almost grieving the lost of your weight against his left thigh once he pulled you upwards.

You grunted, an utterly adorable pout that glittered in your swollen and wet lips. Before you could discover them both with one more than deserved offended retort, he put his free hand over your lips, golden eyes boring into yours.

“Keep quiet,” he leaned against your ear to whisper. “There’s someone here.”

“Someone that shouldn’t see us together?”

He nodded, grabbing his cane, his hand firm in yours while he guided you toward the opposite end of the fountain. The floor was cold against his flushed skin, having to hold a grunt once he accommodated his cock inside his pants, trapping it inside once more.

This damned luck, he thought, looking how diligently you looked while gathering your skirt so any of it could be seen once the intruders started to walk toward the light.

 One thing was to consider breaking the rules without further consequence; and another to drag you both down with them.

He could abandon you, but he wasn’t cruel. Yet he didn’t consider himself careless, to even think to lose everything he’d worked on for something so… banal.

Viktor knew you’d never see him again. That this, as much fun and pleasure as you were having, was just sex.

“They were here,” Sylvester retorted, strides careless now that the dimmed light of the desk had uncovered an empty courtyard. “It was her. The dress was unmistakable.”

The ground was moist from the breeze coming down the pouring fountain under your fingers, the stupid, puffy skirt of your dress pushed between your aching legs as Viktor peeked over the fountain edge to see the silhouettes of what he supposed were your parents. Richly dressed and backs rigid from years of training under the merciless gaze of Piltovan’s wealthiest.

“You probably confused her,” your father said rather angrily. “Do you think my daughter would do something so inappropriate? What kind of parents do you think we are, Mister?”

“I don’t mind any ill comment upon yourselves!” Sylvester tried to defend himself, yet every word uttered sounded worse than the last. “It’s that your daughter… she’s…”

“Be very careful how you talk about my only child, Mister,” your father intervened, the cacophony of the argument growing enough for Viktor to tug your arm and starting to slide toward the formation of bushes. A green, natural wall between the fountain and the wild greenery of the rest of the greenhouse.

“Maybe she was seduced by that vulgar womanizer,” Sylvester added, changing the approach. “She’s young and naïve.”

Viktor’s steps almost halted, your body stopping moving from the nearby exit.

He gazed at you, eyes wide open. What are you doing?

“What is that?” your mother inquired, gazing toward your direction.

“Probably just these critters,” your father responded, swatting away the mots enticed by the light of the lamp you had left on. “Let’s go. Our daughter should be looking for us.”

You surely weren’t, helping Viktor opening a side door that led you to a dark corner of the gardens. Even if you looked like a vision, with your hairdo messy and face flushed and sweaty; the façade of a proper lady had long gone with the mud staining the edge of your shoes and the essence that seemed to cling to your skin, like lust and adrenaline.

It was clear you had just had sex. And even if Viktor felt pride grow inside his chest at how he made you feel, he knew that nobody should look at you like this, or else rumors would spread, and Sylvester would talk.

And his words etched in Viktor’s mind, too. In a way, Sylvester wasn’t that far-fetched. A womanizer, certainly not, but Viktor did was the reason why you were doing these crazy things. Risky things. And for something so… silly.

Was it silly? The way he felt the most alive in a long while.

If he’d be caught, not only he would be ostracized from Piltovan society even further, but also, it would shut off all opportunities he had ever since helping create Hextech. Viktor didn’t mind being behind the shadow of Jayce—it was rather better, without having to tell your plans out loud and intervene like a public figure in events, drained from fake-crafted charm.

Viktor was first and foremost an inventor, not a man. Not really.

To be led upon simply by mundane desire was something very unfamiliar that for a moment he considered if you had pulled a spell on him, that your costume as Fairy wasn’t much of a costume.

“I’ll accompany you to the main gate,” Viktor said once you were far enough the greenhouse and nearby the entrance. “I think it’s better if we go our separate ways, Miss Fairy.”

You looked at him, and not even the sparks in your mask could hide the dimming twinkle in your eyes that felt like a punch on Viktor’s chest.

“Are you sure?” you mumbled.

“I don’t want to jeopardize our situation,” Viktor had to confess, hoping you would understand, even when in his mind he was struggling to put his tangled thoughts into words. “Putting us in danger for sex is rather foolish, and I don’t wish to put our reputations in jeopardize, if I have to be honest with you, Miss Fairy.”

His words dawned on you, probably in the wrong way for the way your steps wobbled away from him. He tried to steady you, but it felt wrong to touch you in the open like this when so much more had happened behind closed doors.

“Don’t misinterpreted me, I truly enjoy your company.” And a very deep part of him wished to have more, a truly stupid desire he had to tore from its roots. “You… you made me feel…”

“That’s alright,” you said, smiling at him though your tone cut through his words like a downpour of freezing water. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I think it’ll be better if I walk alone, so people don’t see you with me.”

It was such a logic step to follow, so why Viktor felt a hollow growing in his belly once you turned your back at him?

“Goodbye, Sir.” His goddess was walking away, at it wasn’t even dawn.

He had to bit his tongue to avoid calling you back.

It would be better this way; he’d drown in work once again tomorrow, and as the days go by, he’d forget you—only blinks of your presence would be summoned in those long, monotone nights when Viktor sought the comfort and intimacy of a lover.

Your humble lover, he told you. And he was.

Viktor watched your dress disappear between the trees until your presence became but a dream, leaving only the ghost of your kisses marked with lipstick that would wash off once he arrived home.

He should have never gone to that party.

[dickmedowndc]

af·fec·tion - Jaime Reyes x Haphephobe!Reader

Word Count: 1,650

Summary: Jaime can say a lot of things are weird about his life: one of his best friends is from an obsolete future, he has a snarky sentient piece of alien technology fused to his spine for life, and his partner always seems to flinch when he reaches out to touch them. At first, he thinks it is little more than them being jumpy and spaced out, until Khaji Da informs him that scans show genuine fear and anxiety.

Notes: Requested by @pink-lemonadae-san for a reader with haphephobia (fear of physical contact). I tried my best with this one, I’m not familiar with this fear. Also, more geared towards Young Justice, the Animated Series, but only as a reference.

…★…

Jaime can say a lot of things are weird about his life: one of his best friends is from an obsolete future, he has a snarky sentient piece of alien technology fused to his spine for life, and his partner always seems to flinch when he reaches out to touch them. 

He almost doesn’t notice it at first – the way that you seem to flinch when someone touches you, muscles tense. But you always seem quick enough to hide it with a smile that seems painfully faked to him and an assurance that you really are fine, just spaced out a bit. But after each time, you seem to curl in on yourself a bit tighter and put some more distance between yourself and anybody within the immediate vicinity. 

Jaime just thinks it has more to do with you spacing out than it does anything else, or maybe you’re just not as keen on touch. That much was fine, while a lot of the people he knew could be touch driven, that did not mean that everyone was. So, Jaime avoided touching you as much as he could, at least while you were friends. 

Things began to shift a bit more when he finally asked you out, overjoyed when you agreed to a date. And then even more elated when at the end of the night when you ask him for a second one. Not wanting to push his luck, he had not asked for a kiss, instead reaching out for a hug, which you had returned – but not before he swore that he saw a flicker of fear across your face. 

You never said anything about it though, and so he brushed it off. 

Things continued on this way for a while. 

Jaime does not just jump in to touching you, choosing instead to keep it more reserved, at least in public. Major PDA certainly doesn't seem like the sort of thing that you would be on board with, and he cannot fault you for that much. But the little touches do pick up more in private – taps on the shoulder, a quick hug, etc. Things seemingly so innocent that Jaime never pays their acts a second mind. 

The fact that you never initiate them seems to go over his head. After all, you show your affections for him in other ways – ones that have become obvious to him as the relationship had progressed, so it never comes down to a question of your feelings. 

And still he chalks up the jumping to you being lost within your own head. You wouldn’t be the first person he knows to be like that, and you never tell him otherwise. Any discomfort on your part is quickly hidden. 

Khaji Da has been, for the most part, instructed to leave it be – when the sentient tech had expressed a desire to scan you earlier on. Feeling too much like an invasion of privacy, while also throwing the agreement that only teammates could be scanned and only in battle. As far as people that Jaime trusted went, that was. So reluctantly Khaji Da had backed off the topic. After all, the scarab had been assured, if something was wrong, they had to trust that their partner would be upfront about it. 

That was likely why it surprises Jaime so much when Khaji Da pipes up one day, directly after he has hugged you. 

“Scans indicate that your partner is afraid, Jaime Reyes.” 

It was a weird enough sentence to hear, and Jaime was too confused to be annoyed that Khaji Da had scanned you. But afraid? There was nothing that should be causing that – the area was clear, it was a quiet and calm day, you had been fine for most of it, and you had yet to tell Jaime something was wrong. 

Scared couldn’t be right, could it? 

So, he ignores it, instead enjoying the rest of the day with you. He can talk to Khaji Da about it later. 

But later comes sooner than expected when the date is at an end and Jaime goes to hug you once again. 

It's that same voice echoing in his head: “Scans indicate a spike in your partner’s cortisol and adrenaline levels, indicating stress of fear, Jaime Reyes.” 

This has his attention. The only thing that had changed was him touching you, but still, you make no mention of it, pulling away and wishing him a goodnight before moving off in the direction of your home. 

Jaime calls after you, telling you to stay safe, but the gears in his head are turning to the point of smoke and it is Khaji Da who has to prompt him back into moving finally. 

“Khaji Da.” 

The scarab responds to that, a little whirr that tells Jaime the spotlight is his. 

“Are you sure that they were afraid both times I touched them?” 

“Affirmative, Jaime Reyes, your partner showed signs of distress.” 

It’s silent for a moment before Jaime asks his next question, quiet as he can, almost as though he is trying to avoid the answer. “Do you think they’re scared of me?” 

“Unlikely. Your partner actively seems relieved to be with you unless physical contact is initiated.” 

“But if they’re scared of touching me-” 

Before Jaime can finish his sentence Khaji Da has already interrupted him. “Your partner shows signs of distress at all physical contact, including that initiated by other individuals. This is not isolated to you.” 

“How long have you been scanning them?” This was too much information for the scarab to have from one day alone, and Jaime knew that much. 

In almost an embarrassed fashion, Khaji Da could be felt almost receding from the edges of Jaime’s mind before answering. “Two weeks.” 

“We talked about this, ese.” 

There’s an indignant clicking in protest before it seems to calm. “Your partner has not confided in you about their fear and steps had to be taken to find the cause. Best course of action: speak with them directly.” 

Jaime can’t argue with that. Whatever the cause of your fear was, you had certainly tried your best to hide it. And it had been a success. But Jaime had to speak with you about it eventually if things were going to get better – it admittedly hurt to know you were scared to touch him, and despite Khaji Da’s words, part of his concern was that you feared what he was capable of. 

A call or text message was not going to cut it, so Jaime would wait until Wednesday when he could speak with you in person again. No heads-up, he didn’t need to leave you a nervous wreck if he told you there was something the two of you needed to talk about. It wouldn’t be good to have that stewing under the surface for a few days. 

So, to say you seem a bit surprised when you show up Wednesday and Jaime has his hands in his pockets is an understatement. You expect a hug or for him to reach out to you – even if it terrifies you – but instead you’re met with no attempt. Paired with the serious look on his face, it begins to leave a feeling of unease prickling along your spine. 

“Did I do something?” 

That catches him off guard for a moment and Jaime is quick to assure you that no, you had not, but he does need to speak with you – and he needs honesty. 

It does nothing to settle the worry you feel, and already this conversation is headed in a direction you really do not like, already having a vague idea of what the issue is. 

Jaime struggles for a moment, trying to find the words that he needs without sounding as rude out loud as it seems in his head: “when people touch you do you...” He trails off, sighing before waving his arms outwards. Finally, he relents. “Khaji Da scanned you – I didn’t know about it!” he clarifies quickly, seeing your raised brow. “But scans show that when people touch you that you get.... scared?” 

His words seem to have an effect, and Jaime watches as your shoulders slump, your eyes focused anywhere other than on him. And then he sees it, a weak nod. So, he was correct. 

“Haphephobia - it’s the fear of being touched.” You have to stop for a moment, pulling in on yourself. “It isn’t just by strangers though, it’s by anyone, even family and friends.” 

Things are beginning to make sense for Jaime – little actions he had not stopped to consider before, things said by family or friends of yours that he had met. “You know you could have told any of us; we wouldn’t push you about it.” 

“I was told to just get over it – and a lot of our friends have a touchy love language. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be able to touch your own partner?” 

Jaime frowns at that, the tone he picks up on too depreciative for his liking. “There are other ways to show you care.” 

He doesn’t get a response from you, seeing you backed up into your own invisible corner, like you could make yourself vanish if you tried hard enough. “Hey,” he starts, soft as he can, “you show me you care in all kinds of ways – we can figure out how to handle this, and so can our friends. But we can’t start fixing things if we don’t know there’s an issue.” 

“I know, I guess I just didn’t want you guys to be disappointed.” 

“If we knew and ignored it that would be a different thing, but we can work with this,” Jaime assured. It was almost instinct to reach out, but he managed to catch himself in time, offering his partner a smile that seemed to finally have them relaxing. 

“I’d like that.” 

[porcelain-thyme]

The Herbalist (Tree Sentinel x fem!OC) - Chapter One

(I put it as OC but tbh it could be a reader insert since I leave the character description light and also she just goes by one name Morte)

My first ever fanfic lol, I saw someone on here lament the fact that there was no Tree Sentinel fanfic and I agree, so I decided to write one lol, this is the first chapter and I will probs be updating every week or so lol. I might write for other characters too. Added a read more so it didn't take up the entire feed cause its long lol

You heaved against the solid wood, the crisp morning mist embraced you. Limegrave's fair beauty, covered with a veil of golden rays, held you still as your eyes scanned the vast field of grass waltzing with wisps of wind. The hushing of the trees lulled the falling Erd leaves to the ground as you hesitantly stepped away from the door.

In the distance you could hear the songs of birds echo and the salty waves crash against fine sand. 

‘It feels too good to be true compared to what they prepared me for.’ you thought.

Scanning your surroundings you noticed the cute little critters hopping around and on the edges of rocks perched some proud birds, both animals you had never seen before. Your own town was too dimmed in an everlasting mist for anything cute to survive, like the gloom sucked out all the fun of living. The shadow of the ruined building covered the left. Bushes and trees scattered around. Beside you, a few steps away, a flower glowing softly stood, swaying in the sea breeze which hit your sinuses, dry and pungent with salt. You crouched down, putting your weight on the balls of your feet. You were enraptured by its beauty,  your gloved hand reaching out to caress the delicate petals. This wasn't enough, so you peel the fabric from your hand to freely examine it. 

It's soft and full of life, nothing like the plants you have back at home, where the endless dull skies leaves the ground barren of flowers. But here is different, you have never felt such a lively and soft material, the small  indents of the veins running the white velvet flesh leaves you giddy with wonder.

Your  head swivelled for more wonderment, finally landing on a group of vermillion star-petalled flowers. You rushed over, breathless with awe, the joy vibrating in your chest, as you once again examined a new specimen.

“I was waiting for you to approach me. Seems like you didn't  even notice, strange considering I'm the only other person here.” A voice from behind you greeted, full of mirth and sass.

You startled so much that as the breath finishes its course out your mouth, you already had your sword ready.

“I would suggest against striking me, Tarnished. It will certainly not end well for you.” His voice lilted with a slightly gravelled tone.

You turned red and heated with embarrassment, this was not how you wanted to greet what you presume to be a fellow human.

“My apologies, Sir. You startled me.”

He huffed lightly, though you couldn't see his face you could see his chest rise and fall. Which relieved you. At least you were not completely alone.

‘You seem to take a while to think, Tarnished. Should I take a seat and wait.”

You eyed this stranger with suspicion, as he took  a seat on the soft grass. There was no harm in keeping your guard up around here.

“Might I ask who you are, Sir?”

“I will once you put down that sword. I have no intention of harming you. In fact, I am here to guide you.” You saw the crinkles around his eyes as he smiled. He sat there, leisurely with no care in the world. You decided to heed his request, awkward and overwhelmed by everything.

“You certainly look different from the other Tarnished that come here. Have you any training at all?” He was looking  at you with  what seemed to be concern, like he can see right through the bulky armour and linen cloth.

“I have been trained, thank you very much. What’s more of a concern right now is that fact that you still haven't answered my question.”

He huffed out another chuckle. The sun had now warmed your skin in comfort at this point, as it climbed to midday.

“Varre. My name is Varre and I'm your one shining hope in this land, despite the fact that you are maidenless.”

‘Maidenless?”

His head tilted towards the Erd tree, eyes distant as if this was nothing new.

“Yes, well, you need a  maiden to help you on your journey. A patroness of sorts.”

Your head whirled in confusion as you sifted through your memories. You had heard nothing of maidens from the high priests who taught you.

“You're thinking again, Tarnished. It seems to be a bad habit.” There he goes again. Like the  matter was some joke, like you were a joke.

“I have a name too, Varre.” You were sharp with your retort.

“Oh, yes? And what would that be?” He seemed to have been mocking you still.

“Morte.”

“Morte. Seems fitting considering your chosen vocation.” Hazel eyes piercing right through  your armour.

“I… I didn't choose this path. It was chosen for me.” You said heavily, eyes downturned in shame with your  heart layed on top of your guts.

“Oh? And here I  thought all Tarnished  were here for their own selfish reasons.” He seemed surprised.

The sun was past its throne, starting its journey back to his chamber. Like he could feel the ensuing uncomfortable talk.

“The High Priest from my town said it has been my duty since birth to find the Elden Ring. I never wanted this life and frankly I'm too physically weak to even fight a wolf off. But they seemed to have insisted that since it is my duty, that I will find a way.”

He was silent, listening intently with the still physique of a statue.

“If I am to be completely honest, after hearing that I am not the first nor the last I feel as though this path is moot to me now. Surely, there are people more fit  for the task than I.”

He seemed to be in thought for a while, like the cogs in his head were turning.

“It seems that I am not the only one who’s a slow thinker.” 

He let out a small chuckle, mercifully moving his gaze to the ground.

“This situation does seem to need more thought than I expected.” He has straightened his posture, his legs crossed.

“Aha!  Now you know how I feel.”

Things go quiet after that. It wasn't awkward silence but more of a perplexing one.  Around us the world kept its cycle. The moon had started to tuck the sun into bed with blankets of dusk clouds. The shadows were more prominent as they covered the rolling fields and in the distance ruins glowed with slight warmth  from what seemed to be a fire. Still even with the golden veil gone the land before you held its beauty with pride.

“You know… all throughout my life people have directed me, never left me alone. Now that I'm here, I feel lost, even though they gave me instructions. I need to find the Elden Ring, but I just want to explore this place now. It's not like they can find out what I'm doing, but I still fear that they will.”

He was back to staring at you now. our legs were crossed and hands held your head, like a saddened child.

Suddenly he got up, stretched his popping spine and then let out a groaning exhale.

“Follow me. I might know a way to help.”

He's  held out his hand now, keeping a respectful distance as you use his arm to pull yourself up. His hand was warm and his grip firm compared to yours.

The back of your legs slowly forced themselves to straighten after lack of use while you stretched your arms out above your head in a Y shape. Bones and muscles expanded and settled back with a similar exhale. 

He turned around and headed down the slight hill, his footsteps were heavy and his clothing swayed slightly with his confident movements. You followed behind, timid and on edge. Following a stranger could be very detrimental, but that was your best option so far. The further you walked down the more you could see the fields, to the left were ruins of what seemed to be a rounded coliseum. 

To the centre was a path that led to the lit church, which seemed to be guarded by a large armoured man on an even larger horse. You were surprised that you did not hear the thudding hoofs of this majestic beast nor the scrape of metal against metal. 

“It's best to keep your distance from the Tree Sentinels, let them do their jobs and they will let you do yours.” His voice level as though this sight is normal in these parts, and for all you knew, it was.

You continued down the hill to a glowing pile. Wisps of gold gilded around it like a campfire, as you stand next to it. It’s pretty and it illuminated the surrounding environment  and you had this pull to touch it and to know if this light is warm and if it felt like the wind softly caressing your hair.

“Go ahead. Raise your hand towards it and let's see what it does.”

“What happens when I do?”

“It's a site of grace, it will; be able to tell you where you need to go. For most of you Tarnished, if not all that I've met so far, it leads you to Stormviele castle.” He had this tone of excitement, like a child anticipating a treat.

“It won't hurt me, will it?”

“Not in the slightest, Morte. If anything it will feel pleasant.”

So you heeded his wishes and crouched down. This must have been the magic that the high priest talked about. It held warmth to it and in the centre, levitating, was a tear shaped orb. You reached your hand out towards it, not knowing what exactly you were doing. The warmth from the grace site passed through the material of the glove with ease to finally touch your skin. It was like you could feel every particle of grace fit into the imprint of your skin, like gold filling cracks of pottery.

Like wading your hand in a pool of water, you could feel the movement of the grace as your hand shook still.  It was textured like fine sand, almost powdery but the coarseness still gritted slightly against the fingerprints and dried valleys of your hand. 

You focused on the feeling and all of a sudden you felt something shift, like movement in water. Opening your eyes you look over to see Varre staring at you intently.

“It does feel pleasant.” You were breathless, the awe of the situation holting your mind.

He still didn’t answer, but he leaned close to the site, like he was looking for something. Through the grains of grace you felt something, like uneasiness embodied. It felt like the grace of wavering slightly, like his pulsing heart's increased rate was felt by it. You felt nervous now, something was wrong. You realised that he said this would help guide you but you can’t feel nor see anything to suggest a path. If anything it just swirled like usual, only glowing brighter with you connected to it. It felt homely and warm, it was a comfort you never wanted to let go of.

He finally spoke, though there was hesitance and confusion tinting his usual teasing tone.

“I haven’t seen something like this before. How do you feel?”

He was looking at you now. His eyes were intimidating even with the concern behind them. You felt like he should have the answer to this, but seeing someone who has supposedly been doing this for quite a long time look at you like a lost pup had you in a bit of panic. The thumps of muscle against your sternum became more noticeable by the second. You look down at your hand then back up at Varre, then repeat swiftly while you conjure up your answer.

“Great? I’m not in any pain. Isn’t this supposed to happen?” Laced through your answer was confusion and a drop of fear.

“Move aside for a bit, dear.” you were taken aback by the pet name but still did so.

He degloved himself and moved his hand towards the grace. It did exactly what it did to you, only next came a glowing string that danced towards you with, well, grace. It circled around you and when you lifted your hand toward it you could still feel the grains of grace against your skin.

“You're supposed to see something like this, the grace is supposed to guide you on your path. This is different, it was static like you have no path to take.”

You froze when he said this. Though the thread of grace still warmed you, the shivers of anxiety began to wracked your body. This could not be happening, you need guidance. You’ve needed it ever since you were born and now you're being told that there was no guidance left for you. As though it was possible to run out, you used it all up during childhood and now your bank was drained. You took a tiny step back, tears birthing from your wide eyes as you start to feel the air crawl from your lungs.

“No… that can’t be.” 

It came out as a pathetic whimper and the sobbing began. Your frame was shuddering, bones and flesh unsynced as you panicked right in front of a stranger. You felt the grace leave as he got up to move towards you. The hand that was once outstretched towards grace was now stretching towards you.

“Don’t panic, we will sort this out. There is certainly a reason for this, grace sites can not make mistakes.”

He closed the distance with his hand moulding to your shoulder, he had bent slightly to try and catch your pathetic eyes. You were in hysterics, the very reason for your existence was denied from you. How could you ever face your town now? You were to be the high priestess once you acquired the ring and now you will be nothing more than a pariah. You did not know what to do with yourself, you felt drenched in cold water, hands stretched out to your sides slightly, you shook from the very core of your being. Your muscles had already become stiff and crowded, the clothes and armour you wore felt constricted, the very hemming of your collar felt like it was strangling you.

“You still have grace, dear. It just seems to be wanting you to do something different with yourself. It’s telling you that your destiny is not the Elden Ring. Shouldn’t this be good news to you considering your hesitance?”

He was logical, and finding the Elden Ring certainly wasn’t something you wanted.

“But I need to do it. My very existence was created on that fact.”

You were still shaking, but the embers of anguish and wrath had started to glow. It felt unjust to you, that this would happen so late in your journey. All that training since birth, gone to waste.

“Oh Lambkin, It will be okay. Why don’t we talk to a friend? They might know something of this.”

“But I have none.”

“Ah, but I do. Come now, it’s only a short distance. Just down to the church of Elleh.”

You could tell he was panicking slightly, but he tried to keep it in for your comfort. You were a spirit in limbo, all directions felt too far for you, but you still crawled your way out of that burrow of self-pity to take the hand of Varre.

You both trudged down the hill towards the glowing church, the closer you got the more you saw the ruins it was in and the site of grace. But that was not the only thing illuminating it. The warm glow of fire encompassed the back wall of the ruin dancing ever so slightly. It was easy to see in the darkness of the night. Looking up you realised that this is the first time you’ve seen stars. The fog surrounding your home town only allowed for the moon to shine through, but tonight you realised that there was more than just the moon up there. It was close to distracting you from the contortions of your heart and the headache that throbbed at your crown.

You glanced over at the Sentinel making his rounds, you were walking closer to him. This prickled your skin especially with his foreboding helmet of gold following you as you went past. The horse he sat upon was well behaved and only flicked its head slightly to shake away a glowing bug that landed on its nose. You looked around the land, to find specks of glowing bugs everywhere and the soft caress of the moon shining on every surface. The air was chilled, but that was comforting against the heat of your distress. The air filled your lungs with renewal, it woke your mind up from the maorose sea of sludged guilt and bleakness. 

Even with the current circumstances, you had not felt this alive in a while. In fact you never had felt so much in your lifetime. It was like something inside of you was awoken in this land. Like it was breathing with you, and moved with you. You were like a stormy planet, violent swirls of rain and rocks moving across your surface while your core stayed unchanging.

You were now just hiccupping and the cold air of the night had dried your tears for you. The soft cling of grass grounded you and the warm grip of Varre led you to the entrance of the ruins.

Inside was a grace site in the centre and to the very back right corner camped a man and a mule. He stared at you two as you made your way over, timidly you hid behind Varre.

Once you reached the grace site, Varre told you to wait there and play around with it. He continued on to greet the stranger, standing together and talking in hushed whispers.

You crouched down to take off your glove only to realise you left it behind. It stung your heart a bit to have done so but you continued on and reached towards the illuminated wisp. Once again connecting to the pool of grained grace, you felt calmed and comforted. It was like it felt your sorrows and held you close. You tried something different this time, you tried to empty your mind, like the monks back in your hometown. It was hard to untangle your mind from the self-pity and thorns of wrath that caught you, but once you had somewhat cleared your mind it happened.

You felt the pool increase around you, you could feel the boundaries of the walls and the movements of all the livin things around you. In the distance the rocking of the large horse caught your attention, then the slight movements of Varre and the stranger in the corner. You could feel one of the hopping creatures stir in its sleep in the burrow by the ruin. The grass danced in waves and the cool air complimented the warmth of grace. Everything felt alright.

You then felt Varre and the stranger walk towards you, you focused on that movement of grace. It was like you could feel their curiosity, the tilt of their heads and the glances between them.

“I have not seen this before.” It came from the stranger. Just a quiet whisper but it was like the grains were moving his voice closer to you. You opened your eyes to see them just a few feet away staring at the glowing of your arm.

Your arm should not be glowing like that, like the very flesh and bone had been replaced by the ethereal. Disconnecting from the grace site did not stop it either, for it kept glowing slightly, whorls of grace making up your skin and pure gold your bones. The sensations were still there as you tried wiping it off with the linen cloth of your skirt, but nothing came off except for the ever-present glow.

Varre moved closer towards you, you could feel his movements and went to examine your arm. The stranger stood close to him. Varre turned your arm this way and that, he then gave you a pinch.

“How did that feel?”

“Fine, I guess. It didn’t hurt, if that was what you meant.”

“I pinched your arm pretty hard.”

“I felt the force, just not the pain.”

“Hmmm…”

He seemed deep in thought as the stranger went up to have a look. He was gaunt and covered half his face with a cloth. His clothing was strange, red with tufts of white fluff around the borders. His skin was ashen grey dry from the sun, joints and ligaments showing through as he moved his hands.

“This is Kale, he’s a merchant that wonders these parts. I thought that he might have some information to help us, but it seems as though I was wrong.”

“You are certainly a peculiar Tarnished.” His voice was soft and pleasant.

“Her name is Morte. She doesn’t like being called Tarnished, and at this point I don’t think she is.”

“You’re right, Tarnished aren’t usually blessed with powers like this. I heard whispers that near the Erd tree there used to be maidens with similar powers. They would dance around at night and by day they care for the surroundings of the tree.”

“But she’s not from here, so how could she have acquired something like this.”

Kale took a while to think.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s her path.”

“If it was then she would have been led to the Erd tree by a path. It just keeps her there at the sites.”

“Maybe that is the path? Maybe her’s is the land she’s on.”

You were standing there, letting them discuss amongst themselves while you examined your arm. You felt more assured now that you have two people trying to aid you, but at this point you just wanted to focus on something more elating than the point of your existence. So you started to rock side-to-side as you thought of the Erd tree maidens. Their life seemed so joyful and simple, much more simple than finding the Elden Ring. You started to wish that you were born an Erd tree maiden instead of some small girl from a fogged land. To be with sisters with the same goal, dancing around with fits of laughter and murph while by day you took care of the grounds of your home in contemplation and ease.

“Can we continue this some other time? I feel tired.” Your voice was small but they still heard your plea.

“Certainly, Lambkin. Let’s get you some rest.” His voice was soft and warm and you realised that you can still feel everything in grace. It was pleasant.

They wanted to set you up by the fire where you could be kept warm, but you insisted on staying by the grace site to play around with it more. So there you were, sitting cross-legged with your grace arm outstretched. Focused once again. You can feel the familiarity of Varre and Kale’s conversion as they sat by the fire, the very shifting of their bodies could be detected through the grace. You could perceive everything but it was not overwhelming, nor was it confusing. You just could and it felt right.

Just maybe you could exist like this, instead of a high priestess with the Elden Ring. After-all, power never excited you.

You lay down, curled on your side by the site. Eyes fixed on its glow as you felt true peace. The anguish was replaced with assurance and you were fortified with the knowledge that there were people similar to you. Your face relaxed and so did your body as you reached your hand towards the site, playing around with the wisps of grace as you dozed off. Turning your head towards the sky, the stars held your eyes in their celestial hands as the Earth cradled your drifting form.

…

You woke from your slumber with the tickle of dew covered grass and the light of the waking sun. You still faced the sky and clouds clothed in dawn greet you with a good morning. The birds were chirping and through the tree the wind rushed. The crackling of the fire behind you told you that last night was real. Usually the morning after you cried there would come a headache, but you felt the opposite this time. You felt like you were made anew. Stretching as you sat up, you let out a sigh and looked around. The ruins were just as beautiful in the light. Reaching your new hand to the site you connected with it once again, it felt comforting to do so. You felt the land around you move as you breathed in and out, it felt nice just being able to exist for once. Even though you panicked last night about the lack of a path, you felt better  now and more assured. 

Varre and Kale were snoozing by the fire, you could sense their chests rising and falling. The mule was laying there with his head on Kale’s lap, ear flicking every once and a while. The morning air was fresh and the sunrise warmed your back. You were now under his veil too.

You decided to get up to look around by yourself. You made your way out of the church, running your new hand along the cool stone. Grass covered the ground in clumps that had you walking carefully, the sun had fully emerged from the horizon, its golden rays glittered in the dew drops covering everything. It looked like everything was covered in grace. The sky was clear with fluffy clouds sparse in its field, coloured in pastels that you had never seen before.

There was a rising deep inside of you, as though a metamorphosis ws taking place. The muscles of your heart snuggled together. Your whole body felt the exhilaration of finally understanding what a new day was.

You started to giggle, legs giddy as you pranced around. You grabbed your skirt in your hands and began to sway. Slightly to your right lay the colosseum ruins and before you was the ruins you came from. The wind twirled the locks of your hair between their fingers as you floated around Limgrave.

You felt like you belonged with the roots of the trees and the dancing grass, it felt like you were home.

You pranced around a bit more when you felt a presence behind you, one that was very familiar. Stiffening up you slowly turned around to face the Sentinel. He was even more intimidating up close. He towered over you, armour glistening in the morning sun. His horse was by his side and let out a huff of curiosity, staring and your small form. You did not move a muscle, as if he would not perceive you. It was sickening, the fear you felt, the way your gut contorted and your heart pressed itself against your spine. The horse stretched its head towards you, snuffling the air for your scent. It was gentle as its nose grazed your arms with huffs of air. 

Your eyes were tearing up, you could not die this early. The Sentinel had not moved, but you knew he was staring right at you while his horse investigated. Finally he huffs and a fog of air escapes his helmet. Tugging the lead of his horse, he moved past you. You fell to the ground with relief, the Sentinel seemed to have not been interested in you, a small victory for the morning.

[mediumtires]

Hi Ell 👋🏼 okay so I've seen your last response about seven years and Christian. And I agree with you and your approach. I'm obviously someone who really loves your series and think you have an incredible talent writting stories that feel real and raw.

That being said and that's not against anon or anyone else really but I feel like we need to talk about it. Like you said if the investigation had another outcome I couldn't see myself continue reading your series should you would have decided to continue it in that scenario. I'm glad to see that you are sensible and are standing with the potential victim first no matter how much you can appreciate Christian.

I think we need to remember that yes the Seven Years series is a masterpiece and this Toto and this Christian feel real and raw and every bit of an healthy relationship. But Real life Toto and Christian are fucked up like really fucked up, they're not the first nor the last to be like that. But yeah, anon it's not against you really but when I saw your ask even though I understand you, because really no one wants to see situations like this happening in real life even less see them in fanfic, I just want to say that we need to always keep in mind a distance with fanfic and real life.

I have a lot of celebrities that disappointed me through the years and even if I liked them, some of their actions were really not it. So I think it's because I matured or I always expect the worst from people, but even if we like celebrities we need to keep in mind they're humans, and humans are flawed. They can be capable of amazing things just like the worst. So yeah. I understood completely why you ask that anon and I'm not blaming you but frankly if Ell decided that no matter the outcome of the investigation the seven years series would come to an end, it would have hurt because this series became a safe place for me, but I would have understood and supported the decision.

Once again anon it's not against you because frankly a few years back I would have probably asked the same question. But yeah at the end of the day, seven years is Ell's work and if the situation called for it and the series ended up discontinued or even deleted I would have understood. Sending you love anon, it's not against you it's just because I needed to speak about it 💜

As for you my dear Ell, like I said above, no matter your decision concerning the series I would have accepted it and supported it. But I would also want to ask of you to not stop writing. Not specifically seven years, if you want to stop it stop the series, but don't stop writing anything you like because you have a real talent in it, you're an inspiration and I would love to one day be able to produce works of this quality.

Just know that I will comment as much as I can your works and I cannot wait to see what else you have in store for us. Also if you ever decide to write for another pairing I will read it. Even if it's a ship I cannot stand, just because it's you I will be really giving it a chance. So thank you for your work, your ethics, and I hope to read more from you really soon 💜

Lots of love to you and the amazing community you created with your genius piece of literature 🧡

This is very very important actually. I agree, I think we need to and should address it. I certainly can’t pretend it didn’t happen and that it’s not a very real thing that happens to so many women in this sport and beyond on the daily.

Weather Warnings currently feels very removed from the entire situation, timeline wise as well as plot wise, and that’s why I feel okay finishing that part of the series. I uploaded chapter 1 almost two months ago and most of the story is already written and was written well before this became public knowledge. As for any other parts in the future, I will have to think very hard about whether I want to continue the series overall. I don’t really have a perfect answer to that yet - though there’s a part of me that wants to bring this series to an end on my own terms, in whatever way. It doesn’t feel quite finished yet.

Either way, first and foremost - and i’ve read great thoughts on this in my inbox - rpf is a delicate and in some cases very problematic thing to write. exhibit a) this mess. And that’s fully on me, as I chose to write about two wildly problematic and dislikable powerful rich men, and look what it got us. Though i do want to stress again that my version of them is simply based on their faces and their jobs and the structures of the sport - that’s it. Seven Years was inspired by what happened in real life of course but I tried to put my own spin on it, and hopefully enough to make them distinguishable from the people these characters were inspired by.

Anyway. Thank you for this my love 🩵

[hebuiltfive]

Irretrievable

Last night, I couldn't get this out of my head. So I wrote it. Thought I'd give Virgil a whirl this time and give Scooter a little break from emotional pain.

Bonus points to anyone who can guess which song inspired this one. It's not entirely subtle from the start.

Edit to add the AO3 link.

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

"You're losing me, Vee."

That gut-wrenching pain that only came when hearts shattered into a million pieces tore through Virgil's entire being. This wasn't supposed to be how the night ended, it wasn't supposed to be how their story ended. He hated how he couldn't control it, how he had allowed it all to simmer under the surface and break apart this way.

"I don't understand..."

"I know you don't."

"Come on, Harper, let's just talk about this!" He would beg, he would plead, because he couldn't let it go. He couldn't let him go. The ache, the loss, the pain would tear him apart bit by bit. Virgil could already feel himself breaking.

Harper stood firm, retreating a few steps when Virgil tried to close the distance, trying to make it right. "I can't."

"Please don't just walk away. Whatever it is, I can fix it. We can fix it. You've just got to talk to me."

"Talking is all I ever try to do!" Harper snapped. The salty stream of tears continued to run but it was clear he'd turned his own heartbreak into rage. Maybe it would make it easier for him to deal with. Maybe it was truly how he felt.

Either way, Virgil felt baffled by it. Never had he seen Harper so enraged, and to think that it was his fault... if his heart hadn't already been shattered, it would have in that second.

"I always tried to talk." Harper continued, seemingly not caring for how Virgil would take his words. Apparently he was done trying to tip-toe around the subject. "You never listened. You were always busy."

That wasn't... entirely true, surely? Virgil would have defended that he was a brilliant listener. He was certainly the best out of his family, and he had worn that honour with pride. For Harper to claim he hadn't been listening to them.

"Do you know when we last had an actual proper conversation, Vee?"

The question very quickly had him stumped. Virgil attempted to answer but had to close his mouth quickly to avoid looking like a fish out of water — something he very much felt in this given situation — because the answer evaded him.

"Two weeks ago." Harper put him out of his misery with a scoff. "You don't even remember!"

"Hey, I've had a lot on my plate!" He didn't snap — Virgil never snapped — but he was beginning to get irrate. Harper accusing him of things Virgil would very much disagree with? It was ludicrous and borderline over-dramatic.

"With International Rescue? Yeah, I know."

Virgil bit back a retort as he watched Harper roll his eyes. That single action seemed hurt him more than any of his other accusations had thus far.

"When we first started seeing each other, you said you were fine with International Rescue."

"That was before I saw the truth!"

Virgil blinked. "What the hell does that mean?"

Harper, as though he was stating the obvious and Virgil was too dumb to catch onto his meaning, sighed. "You promised it wouldn't get in the eay. You promised you'd have time for me, for us. You lied."

"I didn't lie!"

"You lied, Virgil! Or, at the very least, you didn't keep those promises."

Harper was back to the heartbreaking crying now, the rage passing over like a dark storm cloud that was now content it had flooded a region.

"I didn't... It's not... International Rescue is important, you know that. It's important to my family, to the world, to me."

"You pushed me down the list." Harper accused sharply.

"There's never been any list! You're acting as though I've been cheating on you!"

"I guess it kind of feels that way."

"For fuck's sake, Harper, it's my job!"

"Well, maybe I don't think you should do that job anymore!"

The truth leaked out in Harper's yell, his arms perching on his hips. Virgil saw the pain in his partner's eyes, saw the raw, honest hurt that had clearly been pushed below the surface more than once to avoid such a confrontation.

Noticing it helped to dull the betrayal Virgil felt in his soul, but only by a fraction.

Harper didn't relent. "You'd cancel on me, go out on those ridiculous, death-defying missions and I wouldn't know if you'd ever be coming home. You'd say we'd rearrange our dinner, but I never knew if you'd ever make it back."

He took a deep breath, continuing in a whisper that was broken up by uneven sobbing. "You're killing me, Virgil. You're killing me and the worst part is you don't see that."

Harper had been wrong earlier. Virgil wasn't losing him. Harper was already lost, because Virgil didn't know how to fix it.

He wasn't going to give up International Rescue. He loved the job almost as much as he loved to paint. It was his last connection with his late-father and was a pillar of his family.

Above all else, he saved lives and gave hope to people when every other resort failed.

No, he wouldn't give any of that up.

Virgil knew that Harper already understood that. The conversation would have taken a different turn had his boyfriend thought their relationship was at all salvagable.

"I love you." Virgil said, knowing it would be for the last time. He'd spoken those three words to Harper on so many occasions over the last twenty months. Never had they stung so badly.

He hadn't expected Harper to respond in kind, but the lack of hearing the words "I love you too, Vee" had Virgil's heart disintergrating.

There was no love left.

Harper had left that night with all his items stuffed into a suitcase and a dufflebag. They hadn't exchanged anymore words. Virgil watched as Harper exited the penthouse suite for the last time, not even looking back to offer him one last glimpse of those hazel eyes that would now haunt him for the rest of his life.

Alone again.

Without love again.

Virgil didn't sleep that night, too caught up in his mind. How had he not seen the signs? How had he not caught this before it had become too late? Was he truly so absorbed in his work to have so blindly stumbled down this path instead of his happily ever after?

He had seen the same story play out time and time again with Scott. Virgil had promised himself he wouldn't end up like his older brother. Then again, according to Harper, he wasn't the best with promises so why was he surprised he wasn't able to keep this one?

Virgil eyed his communicator. He was too emotionally exhausted to work out the time zones but if he called Tracy Island, one of his brothers was sure to pick up. He allowed the call to ring for what seemed like an age, and was about to hang up when John appeared as a floating image in front of him.

"Thought you were supposed to be grabbing steak at that new restaurant?" He asked by way of greeting.

"Harper... he left."

John's face fell. "Did he have a call-out?"

Virgil shook his head, hanging it lowly to hide the new stream of tears from view.

It didn't matter. John clocked on fairly quickly. "Virgil, I'm so sorry."

Comforting words were said, reassurances and love expressed, but Virgil still felt that gaping hole inside him. Harper had gone and he had taken what felt like Virgil's very soul with him.

"Do you ever question the point of what we do?" He eventually asked John once he was tired of hearing his brother's attempts of cheering him up.

"Not really. Our work is important."

"What's the point in saving the world if we have no-one to come home to?"

John didn't have an answer to that. He could have been a wise-ass and noted how they still had each other, but he didn't. Virgil appreciated that.

The question haunted him for weeks, just as the memory of Harper failed to leave him. Over and over again, he'd ask himself what the point was. Over and over again, he'd force himself to ignore the ache in his chest when he couldn't find an answer.

He felt like he was dying. In killing Harper's love, Virgil was certain he'd killed part of himself. The days grew longer and more wearisome, but he kept pushing.

One day, the pain would heal. One day, he'd find someone who understood the workload. One day, his heart would beat again for someone new.

He just had to keep holding out until that day came, no matter how long it took.

[campcamp5ever-notforever]

Gwen's Therapy Session.

"How am I feeling? Hmm...Honestly, I'm not sure."

Gwen licked her lips and then pursed them, deep in thought.

"Conflicted, I guess. You know, that's just been my whole life, actually. Full of conflictedness. Like, once, when I was 8, I remember, I couldn't decide between mint chocolate chip ice cream or strawberry ice cream. Spoiler alert: I ended up choosing strawberry because mint chocolate ice cream is just frozen toothpaste. Another time, Mother made me choose between her and my dad when they were divorcing."

She sighed at the memory.

"Mother, she...she wasn't a good person, and it took me a long time to realise that. No no, she's not dead. We just don't keep in contact with each other anymore...Growing up, my family and I were well off. Mother, she came from a pretty wealthy family but she, ha-ha, broke ties off with them when she married my father. This...this poor black dude, so yes, they were racist too, as well as classist. Lucky enough for her, her uncle, my gran tío Gabino, he supported her and her decisions so when he died, he gave her all his money in his will, and when she found out, she left her family with my dad right by her side. They had me about two years later."

"...Growing up was no fun. I was this gangly, awkward, quiet child who wasn't sure what to do with her life, and I'm pretty sure that pissed Mother off. She was this assertive, dominant, say-what's-on-her-mind savvy businesswoman so I think she assumed her spawn would turn out like her too. It certainly did not help that my dad is this out-there, outgoing, determined man. In her eyes, I was a failure, so she...kept her distance. She kept away from the constant reminder of inadequacy. I heard her talking to my dad once-she said, 'Tough love will help her grow. It worked with me. Look where I am today'. This was a reason why they're separated today because my father did not agree with her ways. He was trying to break generational trauma, but she was just trying to keep it ongoing. Like Grey's Anatomy, for some reason. You know they're on season 39 now? For no goddamn reason at all. A handful of times, yes, handful, I can count them on my fingers, she did attempt to try talk with me but somehow, she made it about her. Always. How the hell do you turn a conversation about your child's first crush into how you 'worked your way to the top'? When I was in school, I always got As. I never did drugs and didn't get pregnant. I won school trophies and certificates, but I always dreaded telling her about my achievements. Nothing was ever good enough for her. All she saw were the faults in everything I did. Whenever I smiled, she told me she could see my wrinkles, I should stay out of the sun so I wouldn't get too dark, she never listened to me, always had to be the one in the right, told me no man would ever love a stubborn and awkward girl like me..."

Her hand had curled up into a tight fist. A fist curled up so tight that it was trembling on the tabletop. When she realised this, she uncurled it, releasing the tension that threatened to consume her.

"My father left when I was 15. That's a big conflict there. He had enough and he left. It was the week where she went insane; on that Saturday, she wrecked her bedroom, screaming, tearing pillows and clothing apart, throwing things, broke her vanity, and when she was thirsty, she came downstairs to find alcohol and when she found a bottle, she disappeared into her bedroom for a week.  I think towards the end of the week was when she and my father had a talk because she came out of her room, eyes red, hair a mess, and asked me: who do you want to stay with?"

Gwen licked her lips.

"Of course, it was a question I had to ask myself. I was thinking about it. I loved my dad, but I knew what he was up to with his time; he was an aspiring musician but that did not make him any money. This was another reason why Mother's family disliked him, by the way. I should know that he didn't make much money; I used to perform with him so I knew how much he would make with his performances. But we were lucky because we had...Mother. Then, he didn't have her. I decided to stay with her for obvious reasons, which I regret a lot these days....I don't remember a moment of her telling me she loves me..."

"She became much colder after that, and I just avoided her whenever she was at home. Escape came in the form of college but the moment she heard that I was staying with my father in his RV, she cut off my college funding and went no contact with the both of us. It was like she was reminding us of who she was. Unfortunately for her, I managed to secure a bursary. My father once pointed out how she had changed after I was born and she'd replied, ‘Maybe it's her fault I'm this way'. I heard her clear as day. I think I was still a child, then."

She looked up at the ceiling, the fluorescent lights shining bright into her purple orbs.

"She, um, she actually called me a few years ago. I was surprised. And shocked, too, you know, considering it'd been...12 years, now, that we hadn't spoken to each other. That was a huge chunk of my life that she'd missed. I think she realised that and that's why she called. Maybe to make amends, I think, because she asked me, 'How are you?' How was I? I was conflicted then, too, because she had called me at an unusual time."

"8 years ago, this shitty camp I used to work at, closed down. Several human rights violations and child endangerment cases but that's another story for another day. The camp shut down a few months before the big Covid scare and when it did, my co-camp counsellor, David, he stood in front of me, and it took a few moments for him to say what he wanted to say. I was just about to leave, my suitcases packed already, waiting to leave for the 5 o 'clock bus that would stop in front of me shortly. It had been about four hours since every child had left with their parents or guardians...except for one boy. Max. He was standing with David, who was consoling him, at the same time speaking angrily into his phone. We couldn't leave him alone at the camp, so he came along with us to the bus stop in town."

"I watched as David crossed the street to where I was standing, a solemn, conflicted look on his face. That was very strange considering the type of guy he was, so I was already concerned. He stopped right in front of me, taking a few minutes for him to say what he needed to say. He just stood there, staring at me intently. I remember what he said, not word for word, mind you. He rested his hands on my shoulders and said something like-"

'Gwen, I know we've had our fair share of disagreements, but there's one thing we can agree on – Max deserves the world. He's a resilient, intelligent, and incredibly unique individual. And I believe, deep in my heart, that we have the opportunity to give him the stability and love he needs. I understand the gravity of what I'm proposing. Adopting Max is a significant responsibility, especially considering our current circumstances. But Gwen, think about it. Think about the joy and fulfilment that comes with shaping a young life, guiding them through their struggles, and celebrating their triumphs.

Max has faced challenges that most kids his age couldn't even imagine. He's been let down, disappointed, and left feeling like he doesn't belong. But together, Gwen, we can change that narrative. We can show him that he's not alone, that he's valued, and that he has a place where he truly belongs – with us. I know you might have reservations. We both do. But let me assure you, Gwen, that we're not alone in this. We'll be together and I know that when we're together, we can do anything.

I'm asking you to join me on this journey because, truthfully, I will not be able to do it on my own. Please join me in becoming Max's adoptive parents. Help me give him the love and stability he deserves. Let's show him that no matter what life throws his way, he'll always have a family to come back home to. I know...I know this is a lot to take in. I know this all sounds crazy but please, just think about it.'

"It was a lot to think about for the short span of time I had. Imagine if a person, whom you've known for six years, just suddenly asked you to be a parent with him, to a child whom was recently abandoned by his real parents. It was my turn to take a few seconds of what I had to say and then my phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. My eyes still on him, I answered the phone."

" '...How are you?' "

" '...Mother?' I asked."

" 'Hello, Gwendolyn'. "

"She told me that she was going to therapy which shocked me completely because whenever my father brought therapy up, she always told him that she felt like he was ambushing her. Why would she want to talk to a stranger who was just going to tell her she was crazy? I told her that I was happy for her, and she asked me about my job. My blood ran cold but I stood my ground."

" 'I've been working as a camp counsellor.' "

" 'Camp counsellor? Is that what you've been doing with your life? Wasting away in some shitty camp?' "

" 'It wasn't a waste, Mother, I've come to find out. I helped kids discover themselves and grow into better individuals.' "

" 'Helping kids? What about helping yourself? Have you even thought about your own future? A real career? Your ambitions?' "

" 'I did, Mother. I found fulfilment in being a counsellor.' "

" 'Fulfilment? Oh please, Gwendolyn. You always were the pathetic dreamer. When are you going to wake up and realize that life isn't about playing campfire songs and telling ghost stories?' "

" 'Life is about finding happiness and meaning.' "

 " 'Happiness? You call that happiness? Living like a vagabond, disconnected from the real world? You're delusional, my dear. Happiness does not pay the bills.' "

" 'Delusional? I think you're the one who's out of touch, Mother. You haven't spoken to me in twelve years, and now you waltz in here expecting me to conform to your idea of success?' "

" 'Don't you dare talk to me like that, young lady! I raised you better than this. You're embarrassing me.' "

" 'Embarrassing you? You know what's embarrassing? Ignoring your own daughter for over a decade and then having the audacity to criticize her life choices, especially when life has been so crappy towards her!' "

" 'I had hoped that by now, Gwendolyn, you would have outgrown this behaviour. I was wrong, and it seems I was mistaken. Stubbornness has always been your defining trait.' "

" 'Maybe I learned it from you. You've never been supportive of anything I've done. You thought I was a failure and you made sure I knew it. You only saw the negative in everything I did. You only care about what makes you look good in society's eyes. You can never ever be wrong because you're so 'perfect'.' "

" '...I sacrificed everything for you, and this is how you repay me? By throwing your life away?' "

" 'I'm not throwing my life away, Mother. I'm living it on my terms. Good things take time and I'm willing to wait.' "

" 'Fine! If this is the life you choose, then don't expect me to stick around and watch you ruin it.' "

Gwen shook her head after her recount and sighed deeply.

"That was the end of that. I dropped the phone call and looked back at David. His eyebrows were raised in question, his face a mixture of inquiry and concern, and I just fell into him, giving him a big, fat hug. At that moment, I told myself that I wasn't throwing my life away. I was still young. Hell, I was just a 28-year-old teenager-"

She chuckled at her lame millennial joke.

"-there was a lot of time for me to figure my life out. I was determined to prove to Mother that I hadn't ruined my life. Before I knew it, I was sitting in the passenger seat of David's car, driving off with him and Max in the back. Our adventure was just starting..."

She looked down, swallowing back oncoming tears.

"We did not know what life had in store for us. The future was a distant, shrouded mystery. These past few years have sucked but my God, we prevailed, and that is one of the best feelings a human can have. I don't talk to mother anymore but if I did, I would tell her that my life is at its peak, and it won't be stopping any time soon. Now, my family and I live in this picturesque town reminiscent of a storybook setting. I mean, we have a goddamn coffee place right around the corner from where we live! I can fucking walk to the school where I work without getting mugged or catcalled! The school itself has given me and David a discount on school fees because I work there! We have a fucking labrador at home Max named after this teddy-bear had when he was younger! I gave birth to the most precious baby girl ever three years ago, David's less stressed now and he sings all the bloody time! Max called me 'Mom' for the first time ever last week, and now I am-"

She glanced down at the time on her watch.

"-20 minutes late to my new job!"

She grinned.

"How am I feeling, you asked? I am feeling...content."

The barista blinked at Gwen in astonishment, his hand hovering above the cash register's keypad, mouth slightly agape. He cleared his throat, composing himself.

"...And what would you like to order, Miss Gwendolyn?" He asked, staring at her with a 'what-the-hell' look, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

"I think I'll try your mint chocolate chip milkshake," Gwen nodded.

-

This has been in the back of my mind so I wanted to write it.