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teamatsumu · 8 months

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purple and pink. (rafayel x reader)

summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).

word count: 3450

warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp

You weren’t exactly an artistic person.

You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.

Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.

What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.

Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.

After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.

You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.

Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.

As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.

“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.

“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.

“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.

You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.

“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.

The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.

Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.

He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.

“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.

Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.

Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.

Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.

“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.

He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.

“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.

His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.

“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.

“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.

“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.

“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”

The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.

His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.

And oh, did you receive it.

Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.

“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.

(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)

“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.

“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”

He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.

His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.

He was a vision.

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.

“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.

You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.

Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.

“Stop me if you can’t take it.”

You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.

Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.

You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.

You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.

Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.

Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.

“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.

“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.

You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.

“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”

Aaaaaand the urge was gone.

You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Not more than you.”

He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnd #rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel smut #love and deepspace smut #rafayel x y/n

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months

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Taglist: @your-favorite-god @cens0r3d @lovelyteenagebeard

Heeding Aemond’s words, you decided that an audience with Cannibal was required. So in the dead of night you slipped out of the red keep through the secrete passages you’ve learned thanks to Aegon, almost undetected had you not almost collided with a rat catcher who was accompanied by the cutest dog you’ve did see, before fleeing into the very same woods upon your first encounter with the behemoth of legend.

Once you got to the cave Helaena’s words had been proven true, Cannibal had been waiting for you as the silhouette of his head could be seen poked out of the dark, just as a pair dark green eyes like Greek fire looking directly at you but you weren’t afraid like last time.

‘Cannibal.’ You greeted as you bowed before the dragon, whom let out an almost purring sound at the sign of respect shown towards him. After all many people who tried to claim him expected him to submit to their will, but Cannibal knew his worth and vowed to never allow a pathetic creature to ride him, but one who’d inevitably catch his eye by accident.

‘I’m going to cut the formalities and be upfront with you and that is because time is limited and I have been so foolishly trying to avoid a predestined fate.’ You tell the dragon who only watched you with curiosity that it made you wonder how many others had been giving the same curtesy, not many you presumed but now wasn’t the time to falter when morning was fast approaching. ‘People, powerful people are going to try and stake claim to you through me in hopes of getting you to yield.’

Cannibal lets out a powerful roar that you felt within your chest, resonating with you in a way that you didn’t think was possible. You could feel his hatred for cowards, weaklings and people who felt the need to claim more than was needed, a spark has been light between the two of you and it was only starting to grow to a fierce but stubborn flame.

‘I had a feeling you would hate that.’ You told the dragon as you moved closer all the while he looked at you, steam puffing from his nostrils, his eyes practically glowing like hellish pits of fire amidst the night. Cannibal was beautiful as he was terrifying and you were growing to like the thrill of having him as your companion, your friend and not just a dragon you simply rode for convince. ‘So here is my proposal, should you accept, you take me as your rider an you shall keep your freedom for I will not clip your wings as you are a dragon through and through, the sky is your domain and I shall not take that from you.’ You added as you watched Cannibal lower his head so that he could meet you eye to eye, interested in what you had to say.

‘Also, there’s just one other thing that I may ask of you cannibal.’ The dragon only huffed as though telling you to go on.

‘Consume any dragon and their rider should their boastfulness overtakes their common sense,’ you told him in seriousness, ‘make them remember to fear the name Cannibal for it is not just a name to take lightly.’ You then took a step back from the dragon and held out of your hand, palm out flat as the nerves within you went wild, this was by far the stupidest and most terrifying thing you have ever done but still you had to see it through. ‘Do we have a deal?’ You finished.

Cannibal studied you for a moment, his eyes looking deep into your own that you felt as though he could see your soul, your true being, before moving his head closer to you and pressing his snout against your hand. It was rough, warm but alive and you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you had just made history.

You had just became Cannibal’s first rider.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd imagines #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #hotd x y/n

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mayullla · 1 year

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Title: But he didn't want to let go.

Character(s): Neuvillette (Genshin Impact)

Summary: Part 2 to There is no love here.: Neuvillette did want to let you, he didn't want to lose what he already had but also tried to make it grow into something more. He didn't realize that he had already destroyed it. Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, fem!reader, arrange marriage, one-sided love, unrequited love, unrequited pining, jealousy, possessive behavior, angsty, creepy Neuvillette watching you sleep, 6.1k words

Late in the night he could not help but stare, your closed eyes sleeping so peacefully in your own bed away from his own. Was this normal... for a husband and wife to sleep away from each other? In different rooms as if they were strangers. Silent questions darkly swirl in his mind, he felt almost broken as he watched your sleeping form. His strength seeped away too quickly as he could not help but crave your touch.

He stayed there, for how long he doesn't remember. Unable to leave your side yet never touching as if scared that this world that he lived in would crack and shatter. He could not move at all, not even when you start to stir your eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Hmmm... you are awake" Pushing yourself from the bed slowly with one arm to support your body. He didn't answer silently, looking at you as you yawned and rubbed your eyes. Looking to the side, the window you could see the dark dreary sky as rain fell from the darkened clouds.

He watched as you looked at him, eyes still sleepy and tired yet there was also understanding. Did you understand that he was crying for you? He doubted it, yet he could not help but hold his breath.

That same hand that rubbed you rubbed your eyes was tiredly raised towards him, the palm down as if you were reaching for him.

Neuvillette looked at your hands reaching out towards the air, awkward and unsure of what to do at this moment. Was he supposed to take your hand and hold you up when he was caught sneaking into your room? When he didn't make a move, he watched your eyes still sleepy and hazy, soon giving up as you pushed yourself out of the bed by yourself to the floor. Your slippers were forgotten as you rubbed your eyes again to get more of your sleep out.

He thought that you would ask him again why he was here, if not you would ask him if he was okay and to talk... Yet instead of talking you took his hand and pulled him away from your bedside, leading him out of the room.

Your hand holding his, Neuvillette started at your hand so foreign on his. It was odd and uncomfortable. Why? He didn't understand why he thought so when he had escorted you many times even in the past and even now. What was he thinking back then? When you were by his side. You would wrap your arm around his own or how he would take your hand to support you when you walked out of a vehicle or steep stairs.

Then he realized that this was the first time that the two of you held each other's hands bare without any leather gloves or dress gloves covering each other's hands.

Your hands, well taken care of were soft and delicate, unlike his calloused and rough hands always working and writing. The feeling of your hand in his was unique, unlike anything else that he ever held, it was something that made his heart beat.

Your hold on his hand was light, still tired from your sleep. If he wanted it with just a little strength he could break out from your grasp yet instead he made sure that you would keep holding his hand. His body tensed thinking that you would drop his hand because of the lack of strength. He didn't want that. He didn't want that at all.

Time was either too fast or too slow, Neuvillette wasn't sure as you and him went out of your bedroom and into the kitchen yet he could only wish for it to be a little longer. He could not help but almost voice his want when your hand dropped his. As if the coldness of Fontaine's night made his hand become ice without your hand.

He watched you silently, too awkward to speak for once he wanted to say something yet could not as if his tongue was tied into multiple ribbons too complicated to unknot. You seem not to care for this silence as if you were already so used to this. Why were you so used to this? Why didn't you look surprised at all that he was here?

The clicking of pots and pans, and the sound of pouring water in the dimly lit kitchen was all he could hear as you started to boil water to prepare tea and also plate some desserts.

He watched you place the teapot on the table, also getting teacups and a plate for something to eat. Taking a seat on the opposite side of the table you took a sip of your tea staying quiet. Neuvillette examined you as you drank your tea, tiredness still evident in your eyes but the sleepiness was all gone.

He continued to stare at you, and you let him. He doesn't know how long you and him have been in the kitchen, yet the tea that was steaming hot had now cooled in his hand as you looked at him. Your eyes were calm and inviting, inviting him to tell his thoughts, to still the anxiety tinted in his eyes.

But for the first time, he didn't want to. You didn't know these confusing and obsessive thoughts, dark and muddy, unlike the clear waters of Fontaine. He dreaded the idea that you would ever find out…It disgusted him so much that he was like this yet he was still unable to control these emotions.

"I am okay now... I... I apologize for disturbing your sleep." Neuvillette apologized only for you to shake your head, the soft smile on your lips was enough to tell him that you would do it again. That it was okay to look for you.

It was okay you told him, a soft voice that promised to be by his side whenever he felt lonely or needed help. He could not help but wonder just for a moment if he impulsively asked would you listen? If he asked you to stay by his side every single moment never to leave him would you do it?

It was later that you told him that he would look for you late at night when stress had been catching up to him. This was not the first time you had woken up with him right beside your bed.

Neuvillette could not help but sometimes watch you from his seat when trials were held, high up the court it was easy to see you in the corner of a front seat that he had arranged for you. Sometimes you would visit the Opera Epiclese to watch a trial of your interest. While not often you would ask him to reserve a seat for you if there was a spare. Even back then he made sure you would have a seat however now he would offer you a seat there hoping that you would accept it.

Neuvillette could not help but hope for those moments to happen more often sometimes as when he finally had the free time you would often come with either a packed or bought lunch, dinner, or just snacks for the two of you. That on those stressful moments, he could relax just for a moment with you by his side.

Sometimes you would tell him of something that happened while you were coming here, or maybe you told him the show that you watched with the tickets he had gotten you just a week ago. Mindless chatter it would be hard to go into something deep or important without the privacy of home or his office. Not when people were always looking at you and him.

But he could not help but listen wholeheartedly, keeping all your words in mind, feeling almost like he was in a trance as he watched you talk. The light danced in your eyes in amusement at the story you were telling. The smile that graced your lips as you recall the memory. There was nothing more beautiful than that for him.

"What do you want?" Neuvillette asked, words finally pushed out of his lips like removing the boulder that was stuck in his throat that had been there for a very long time. You looked surprised at his sudden question, tilting your head as you covered your mouth with your hand.

"Pardon?"

"Is there something you would like to have?" Neuvillette asked again patiently waiting for an answer, yet his hold on his pen was tight as he wondered what you were going to say. The answer didn't come immediately, instead, you were deep in thought.

Both of you were in his office while he worked on a few documents. You were at the other side of the room reading a book when he suddenly asked that question.

It was not often he would ask this question, most of the things you touched in shops and stores all fell into your hands the next day when you first got married a long time ago to the point that you had to nag him to stop this. Neuvillette wanted to keep the promise to your parents that he would give you everything that the meka following you had recorded all the things you looked and touched. It was overdone, and rather than happy and satisfied you told Neuvillette that this wasn't what they meant.

He still bought gifts but not as many as before after that, both sides compromising to certain degrees that you would accept them while he would not suddenly send over 30 boxes of articles of clothing in one day. If you absolutely needed something you got it by yourself, though rarely would you need something so expensive. So in a sense you were satisfied with what you have, you have nothing you necessarily want.

Yet expressing that you could not understand his reaction, silent for a moment as he nodded at your words.

"Alright..."

You didn't understand why he was acting like this and when you heard a knock on the door you left glancing back once in wonder and concern but in the end, forgetting about that moment. Neuvillette watched you from the corner of his eyes, whatever expectations he had crushed when he thought that there was a chance that you would ask for something else. This delusion that he tried to weakly make that you want what he wanted just as desperately.

Yes... that chance was one in a million something that was never going to be.

Just for a moment, Neuvillette had become bitter about the whole situation.

Still hot to the touch you waited for it to cool down and instead took a cookie from the tray as you looked up at the people passing by at the outdoor cafe seats. This was usually one of your personal times alone, something that you often told him about when you saw something interesting that happened that day. You enjoyed such hobbies, still finding interest in humans and their minds alike even after marriage.

Unlike before, he was here this time.

It wasn't the first time in a hundred years that you and he went out. He took the time every so often to be with you still, even if it wasn't the lovey-dovey couples date that the novels love to express they were still enjoyable enough. It took care of most rumors or whatever people love to think of. You were always like that, even in an arranged marriage you cared about his reputation not wanting any rumors to tarnish it.

It wasn't something he expected to be honest at first, when you told him so long ago that you would never love him. He didn't think you could go this far. But you did because he was your husband... even if you didn't love him.

Sometimes you and he would go for a walk around Fontaine, the Melusine ones that have a trill for adventure or maybe stumbled into an area would often tell you and him about the some pretty areas that you didn't get the chance to see before. You and Neuvillette would listen to them when they talked to you, both of you with soft smiles sometimes making mental notes for presents. Those lead to small shopping dates between the two of you and for others to see.

Some shopkeepers were familiar with your visits, and asking if you were searching for something in imparticular with your husband had created an image of him being more than a judge. Someone who was soft in heart. (Though that image would quickly be forgotten when they were forced to stand trial under his watchful eyes. That image just never sticks for long...)

Other times he would tell you of shows and events happening around the Opera Epiclese when there was a lack of trials asking if you were interested in joining stating that he would reserve a seat for the both of you which more often than not you accepted.

This was enough for you.

There was never more to it, aside from a few times you ate out at restaurants which would not result in much as the two of you would return home for the night or he would abruptly get called due to some serious matter.

How odd it was for you Neuvillette noticed that he started joining your many walks alone around the Court of Fontaine. Usually, he would tell you that he needed paperwork to be done yet not as much anymore. Instead, now he was demanding those moments with you.

Most times you would tell him where you would go now he would ask, his voice a little sharp when he saw you dressing up but didn't tell him where you would go. There was a tint of accusation in his voice which he was able to hide, yet his eyes hardened as he asked why you were taking the time to dress. He could not hide his anxiety though, a pained tone of voice barely hidden away.

something he didn't ask often he would now constantly would ask you if you would be visiting him. Seeing that he asked you did say that you visited a few times, but you still remembered that one time you declined stating that your schedule was unfortunately rather full that day. His eyes dyed with hurt and anxiety.

It was more often that rain fell high from the sky, more often that you would look at him worried. It felt that both you and him were walking on eggs, yet he could not help himself not when you would look at him more often than before. That he had occupied your mind. That you were by his side. That you were looking at him.

That he was in your world.

"Is there something in my face?" Neuvillette asked, looking at you with that solemn look on his face. You knew what he looked like when he smiled, a soft look as his eyes lightened up was just the opposite of what you were looking at right now. What were you looking at now?

"No. I apologize." You shook your head leaning on your chair a little more. Looking elsewhere but at him, for a moment he could not help but inwardly frown the bottom of his chest frustration and unease curled only to be gone the moment you looked at him again looking as if you were reminded of something. "How was work?" You asked, taking a sip of your tea right after.

".... Nothing much has happened apart from the trials that I told you." Neuvillette frowned thinking, there was nothing that was interesting to talk about his work. Nothing was more interesting to him than you.

Even when you asked about Furina the Hydro archon you have gotten a rather blunt answer that she was doing well. He didn't care much for her either, yet he could not help but stop for a moment.

When you asked him about Wriothesley, the muscles in his face all stiffened while his eyes narrowed. "May I ask why you are asking about him?" He asked his hands holding the teacup, his back straightening. It was as if one wrong word would cause something horrible to happen.

You could not help but raise an eyebrow at his question but you didn't say anything, "I am just wondering, his work is something related to yours after all. I have met him a few times too and I do adore the small dear right beside him." Small cute red eyes looked at you curiously the first time you met. It was easy to get close to her as the two of you would talk about her stories and thoughts.

You didn't see the expression on Neuvillette's face but you did hear his answer. "Wriothesley is doing fine. His work isn't easy but he is always alert and keeps an eye on the prisoners... Would that be a fitting answer?" You casually nodded at his question, taking a sip from your drink. The waiter soon arrived with another teapot with hot tea.

Neuvillette could not find a way to calm himself, as he stared at his tea. His mind was going around in crazy circles almost drowning in his thoughts. The idea that another man was in your thoughts was a vile feeling as if some sort of sticky sludge clung to his chest never letting go.

It was nauseating.

But he kept them in his heart, never letting those feelings out no matter what. It wouldn't do any good to tell less you think that he was accusing you. Whatever your relationship was he felt like it was only standing on a thin line that one wrong step at that moment would break it.

It scared him, it scared him so much that suddenly you would look at him instead towards another man. When you looked at him he would see nothing there but only recognition and friendliness that he didn't want. That he was worth nothing more than the man.

"Dear...? Dear." Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, concern in your eyes. He blinked for a moment realizing that he had zoned out and that you had been talking to one of Steambird's journalists, Charlotte. Both you and her had concern evident in your faces, looking at each other and then at him again.

"I am fine... Thank you for your concern."

He reassured you and her that he was fine, and while Charlotte chose to believe it thinking that work was just catching up to him it seemed that you didn't believe them.

You were sharp, or maybe it was because you had been his wife for such a long time. Neuvillette wondered if you knew his thoughts and if he would like you to actually know what he was thinking… yet at the same time to him it was a terrible thought.

Yet it seemed that there was a small surprise today.

Charlotte's eyes sparkled as she looked at you and him, pushing her glasses as she readied her kamera. "It might be too much to ask but I was wondering if I could get a show of affection between you two, a kiss on the cheek or something." Her request startled the two of you, eyes widening a little at what she wanted.

"Unlike before we are now starting to see you and Neuvillette started to spend more time together. We often see you holding each other's arms but never more than that people are curious if you guys even show affection towards each other!!" Charlotte explained. She tried to say it as casually as possible yet Neuvillette saw the seriousness in her eyes. This would be a huge scoop if it would actually happen.

"Sorry dear, but this is a little too embarrassing for me." You apologized to Charlotte, a hesitant smile on your face as you turned down Charlotte's request. Neuvillette watched as you gently yet vaguely answered her, kindly giving a reason as to why you didn't want to do such a thing. Most would say to mind their own business that whatever they do should not be something that they should care about.

But you and he were in the end likened to idols or celebrities to some degree and no matter what you do people would watch and judge for themselves, snapping back at them would only cause a negative image rather than be helpful. You seemed to know that very well after being married to the Chief Justice for a long time now.

However, Neuvillette could not help but wonder if that was what you really think. If you wouldn't mind doing that sort of display in front of others if you truly loved that person. One where you were loved and kissed even in the privacy of just the two of you instead of sleeping in separate bedrooms in a loveless arranged marriage.

He always found it awkward to be in the public eye often. Other than a few specific reasons or important schedules Neuvillette doesn't show himself much. But here he was right beside you, following you as you shopped and walked around the city as you often do.

He watched your eyes always taking in the beauty of human life around you. It wasn't something that he particularly noticed before only thinking that you and him were similar in some ways but unlike him people were more willing to come closer to you, willing to talk to you more than him. The friendly eyes, as they greet you familiar towards your visit only for their eyes to widen when they see him. It made his heart bitter again, far too often that he realized again and again that he was not in your world.

Even between you and the Steambird journalist Charlotte. It seems that the two of you were also close judging from the closeness of both of you or how Charlotte while still a journalist was rather comfortable around you and you around her. He wondered who else you knew, who else you were close to.

Was there someone in there you had eyes for?

Who could be potentially someone who could take you away from him? The muscles in his face stiff again at the thought that someone could potentially take you and you would accept their love… rather than his. That you would abandon him freed from the contract of a marriage without a single lick of love.

That night there was heavy rain till early morning.

"Excuse me miss, may I join you for tea?"

You turned your head away from the street and looked to your side to see a young man smiling at you holding a cup of his own drink. Ginger hair with a boyish smile. Yet his smile didn't reach his eyes, lifeless and dull. His clothes also told you that he was not from here, but instead from another nation.

Examining him for a moment you lifted up your teacup taking a sip. Your eyes narrowed at his figure. He was quick to pick up your reaction, "Ah miss please, I have just arrived from Snezhnaya and am looking for a place to rest. All the tables are full here in the cafe." His eyes lingered for a moment on your ring as if he acknowledged that he noticed the ring on your finger and didn't have any hidden intentions of that sort. When you both met eyes he gave you a closed-eye cheeky smile when you dropped your guard just a bit.

You thought for a moment but in the end, you let him sit, having no reason to be greedy over an empty chair and space on the table.

"Thank you." The young man smiled.

He was quite the chatter while sharp enough never to talk about sensitive topics he had told you about many places around Teyvat that he had visited. You had also asked him a few questions of your own, curious to many of his stories. It was easy to talk to him, time passed quickly as he told you of the many people that he met. "I in particular like the traveler. You must have heard about them seeing that they are making a name for themself wherever they go."

"Aside from your love for fights, you seem to have an interest in people." What was his name that he told you to call him... Childe? Childe had a curious look on his face with a tint of mischievousness at your words. "Oh, that is a first. What made you think so?"

You hummed touching the teapot, the liquid had become cold. You would need to call the server soon. "Humans are fascinating." You admitted vaguely.

"For someone curious like you it is hard to believe that you have only stayed in Fontaine most of your life." Childe stared at you, it was obvious that he knew who you were and he knew that you knew him. A harbinger and the wife of the chief justice, what an odd pair to be drinking tea together.

But even then, it seemed that even if the two of you knew who each other was, there was still a hint of friendliness while a little fake was still easy to get used to. Yes... Right now you were just strangers talking to each other. "Haha, you are a very interesting person." he chuckled, leaning on the chair with a sly smile on his face but you could see the genuine amusement in his eyes.

"I know, how about I show you around next time. I will show you the best places that I found in each nation that I have been to." Childe raised his hand with a grin on his face. "I think we get along splendidly from this small chat. We would be amazing travel partners if you ever decide to travel. Plus you get to see more people, which is not limited to hmmmm... here."

There were a lot of implications in his words, more sensitive people would have taken offense to his words yet you stayed still. Thinking for a moment...

It wasn't like you never thought of it, while not with a harbinger but maybe traveling alone, seeing and meeting people. Fontaine people have a unique view of life compared to other nations that you have noticed when you chatted with those outside of Fontaine. But in the end, you declined his offer after chatting a little more, both of you parted ways. Childe had mentioned that he would not mind chatting with you a little more next time and would join your table if he finds you here again.

Saying your goodbyes you started to head home when you saw your husband at a corner of a shop. Zoned out and deep in thought, yet quick to notice you. "You... you are here. Did work finish early?" You asked him, walking to his side surprised that he was here.

There was a moment of silence as he looked at you.

For a moment again you thought you saw something in his eyes, a kind of madness swirling deep within that you never once saw in your life married to him. His hold over your arm was tight, almost clinging yet not enough to point out.

It was like a crack, a sound that could not be heard, a thing that could not be seen. Neuvillette could not let you go as if the anxiety had finally taken over and destroyed whatever limits he had placed. That moment he realized that you could actually leave him than just his own mind imagining that situation broke him. Even you were startled but how forward he became, desperate to be by your side, desperate to keep you there.

At home, he would follow you and outside when work didn't force him to come to the office as soon as possible, he took all your personal space. Even outside he was no better, his hand holding your wrist as he took you with him to his office. He didn't want you out of his sight, not one moment.

Dreading that even for a moment someone else could take it.

It was stressful...

Stressful for both of you. You tried to calmly bring the topic out, try to understand why Neuvillette was acting like that but he would just not budge. He refused to talk, to explain why he was acting like this.

Both sides were stressed. On one side it was a silent desperation, shown by rough actions while the other side could not understand, trying but lost. Neuvillette knew he was causing a strain in this relationship. Yet he didn't know what to do, he didn't have anyone to talk to, no one to ask who could help. It drove him insane as he clung to you while demanding that you stay by his side.

It took a moment, just a moment for it to crack. For everything to shatter, the moment he saw your eyes, that moment he saw you starting to lose hope. Eyes that started to become frustrated, and so close to bursting.

He let go of your hand as if it burned him...

As you grabbed your wrist pain in your eyes he finally understood that he had made a mistake. This relationship that he desperately wanted to keep and grow had shattered into a million pieces. There was no way that he could fix this anymore.

He could not help but stare at your sleeping form, thinking about whatever that you and he had in the past. The two of you were never a normal couple, it wasn't a marriage out of love but there was something else there. A tenderness and gentleness between you even without that love.

He just could not remember them, he could not remember those moments when he had become so obsessed with this unrealistic relationship that he could not have. It hurt him. It hurt him so much that he had hurt you.

He watched you steer from your slumber, the dark circles under your eyes prominent over the worry of this relationship that he had caused a strain to. Even when you woke up he didn't move from his spot.

"Please..."

In the dead of night, you stare at Neuvillette in surprise, a cautiousness that was once never there. He felt dirty, so dirty that no water could ever clean him from this feeling.

"Please... don't leave me..." He begged and begged again, "Please... Please love me." He wanted nothing more than to burn himself yet he could not… he was scared to ever leave your side. He was desperate. He was greedy. Slowly he got on his knees, his shaky hand reached for your hand and placed his forehead on it.

"I do not understand." You said he could hear the hesitation in your voice, the hurt that he had made. His head was still down, as he held onto your hand tightly but not enough to hurt you. It was desperate, there was fear as you watched his hands and arms shake. You could feel a warm wetness in your skin, not like the cold rain that fell from the sky.

"Please..." his gasping words were so broken and pained. You tried to pull away, your mind was still so confused and alert. Yet your hand didn't budge for he was scared that the moment he let go you would become nothing more than vapor.

"Wha.... What happened to you." Your voice was low and cautious yet at the same time still worried for the man that was supposed to be your husband, the man who was supposed to love you. You looked down at him from your bed, him on the floor as he continued to hold your arm, his head still down.

From outside the window, the howling wind and heavy rain knocked the house roof and windows. It looked like those fairytales of knights sneaking into the princess's quarters just to pledge their loyalty to her.

But it was far from it.

"Please love me... Love me and don't leave me... I will give- do anything… anything you ask. I love you so much. Please do not abandon me." His deep voice tried to stay calm but there was just so much turmoil in it.

You were silent, silent and frozen to his words. He could not look at you. He didn't want to see your reaction. He didn't want to see disgust and hatred in your face. Any moment you would pull your hand away and anger in your voice as you told him to get out. He would not know what to do then. He didn't want to let go.

But instead of that, instead of pushing him away, you moved your free hand to hold his face. Gently pushing him to look at you, guided by your hand he could not help but have his breath leave him as he looked at your tired smile. So beautiful, and stunning under the dim lights from the outside street lamps.

"Neuvillette... I would never abandon you. Why would you ever think that." You loudly whispered, clear but Neuvillette could not believe his ears.

"This marriage was not decided by love but arranged..." Words were leaving his mouth before he could think, he wanted to stop himself, stop himself before you could truly leave him. But he could not stop. "When you truly fall in love your heart will be with them. I fear... I fear that you would leave me at that moment if you find that something irreplaceable."

You stayed quiet at his words, thinking, yet pause seemed to cause fear in his heart as he looked up towards you. He wanted to confirm if he really was correct. If your face hinted at anything of that sort of secret that you were hiding. What must he do to make you stay? What should he do to keep you with him? To keep whoever in your heart away from you. Send them away? Accuse them of false changes so that he could send them away never in your sight?

Never in his life did he ever have such thoughts yet even after living for long he could not calm the fear that was bursting out. What does he have to do to keep you here? That harbinger who invited you to travel with him all of Teyvat, were you interested in him? What must he do to keep you from leaving? Should he shackle you here so that only he could see you and your eyes could only look at him? His eyes could not help but widen and his thoughts halted when you touched his face placing a kiss on the crown of his head.

The warmth still lingered even as you pulled away, which sent a shiver down his spine. Your hand was comforting on his cheek... Neuvillette truly couldn't let go of this warmth, he could not. It was as if he wished he could dig deep into your warmth and stay there, he wanted nothing more than your touch, he wanted nothing more than your love.

You called out his name, as you pushed his wet hair away from his face. "You are right that this marriage was made from an arrangement and not from love. But like you promised my parents you took care of me and gave me many things. You continue to care for me and I also saw many sides of you. The Melusines adores you and also loves you like a father. I saw that. You are busy and have done many things but still have in mind me your wife, always making time to talk and be with me."

You continue to list more and more things that you have experienced by his side yet instead of finding comfort, tears fell from his eyes as he was again reminded that he unknowingly threw away everything.

"Stay... stay forever with me," Neuvillette asked again, pushing his face to your hand. When you nodded, a soft whisper of ‘yes’ did his hands finally let up the strength from the tight hold on your arm. gently you placed his head on your lap as he hugged your waist. His hold was tight but you didn't mind as you started to comb his hair with your fingers.

This was not okay, he knew that this was not alright yet... for now, this was enough for him. Later on, this would spiral more and more down as he watched himself demand more and beg more but for now, this was okay, that he had your promise that you would never leave him.

This much was enough for now.

Note: This took a while to write so I hope you enjoyed reading this! There will also be no part 3 to this for those curious~

Edit1: So there ended up being a part 3 to this which is here: link anyway hope you enjoy the story!

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nackrosor · 10 months

Text

~Your Wish~

(pt.1/3)

PART 2 - PART 3

Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader

warnings/tags: smut, voyeurism, masturbation (nothing explicit), not much happening tbh, it's more of a teasing for what might come next... (i'm thinking somnophilia, dub/con, eventual consensual sex but we'll see...) words count: 1,1k. a.n: this is just a lil' something to keep the writing block away and to get used to writing less but posting more. Also, for once I focused on the character's - in this case Brahms's - feelings/thoughts instead of the reader's, so there's that. Enjoy!

The boy watched you as you placed Brahms in its bed with the care of a mother. You've been looking after the doll for weeks now, treating it with such gentleness; he noticed it and it made him happy, proud of you. He liked you even more because of it.

He's been watching you the entire time, peeking through the slits and gaps between the walls. Every time your hands held the doll's small form tight to your chest or each time your lips brushed its ceramic face for a goodnight kiss, he wished it was him instead of his fake counterpart. He wished to be touched like that, to be cared for like that… By you.

Despite his ardent and ever-growing fondness for you, he stayed back, hidden behind the walls, only coming out when you were outside in the garden or asleep in your bed. He was afraid you'd be scared to see him, scared of him. That you would run away, leave him alone… He would not be able to bear it. No. You were his. His y/n.

He'd stay hidden for you, content to watch you and admire you from a distance… fantasising about your touch, your warmth, your lips...

You leaned down and gave the doll the mandatory goodnight kiss, drawing Brahms's attention back to you. A soft groan left his lips at the sight. Everything you did aroused him. It was an instant reaction. Even at that moment, he could already feel himself growing…

"You know, Brahms?”

His ears perked up at the sound of your voice. He eagerly leaned in against the wooden panel in the hope of hearing you better.

“Sometimes I wish you were a real boy so that we would keep each other company in this big, scary house."

You admitted with a little smile on your lips as you caressed the cold doll's face, and he almost lost it. He would have punched through the wall and wrapped his arms tight around you, right there and there, if only he could. Would you have accepted him? Without reservations? He had just heard you say you wished he was real… Would you have been happy to see him? To see that he was, in fact, very much real and just as desirous to keep you company.

The melodious sound of your chuckle drew his attention back to you, and he saw you shaking your head in amusement before you tucked the doll in and retreated towards the door to leave the room.

Brahms ran after you without even a second thought, rushing through the maze behind the walls to follow your path.

You made it to your bedroom and started undressing yourself to get ready for bed. His breath caught in his throat; the sight of your bare body always made him twitch in need. Oh, how he would love to strip you out of your clothes at least once... His probing eyes raked over your curves, his breathing becoming ragged, while you slipped into your nightgown and crawled into your bed with a tired sigh.

The light went out, and he hissed. It was difficult to watch you with the entire room enveloped in pitch-blackness, but at least he could make out your faint silhouette since that night the moon shone high in the sky, its kind rays gently illuminating your soft curves through the dark drapes.

He kept watching you for a while, making sure you fell asleep, making sure you were alright.

As he was turning around to crawl back to his place and take care of himself, he heard a soft, muffled sound coming from your room. He immediately moved back to the hole to peek inside.

You were stirring under the sheets. Were you having a bad dream? Or perhaps you couldn't fall asleep?

He leaned in further, squinting through the gap in an attempt to see you better. More weak noises came out of you, causing him to frown in confusion. It didn't sound like you were in pain… But your breath came out in short gasps, as if you were having trouble with something.

Brahms felt his muscles tense up, his whole body urging him to follow his instincts and barge into the room to help you.

“Ohh, f-fuck…f-fuck…”

The sound of your voice made him freeze on the spot, his eyes growing wide. He watched as your legs spread apart under the sheets and your body arched up slightly. He could see it clearly now; your arm hidden beneath the sheets, resting right between your thighs.

It took all of his strength to hold back the deep grunt that was about to spill out of his mouth when he finally realised what was happening. His legs gave out, causing him to fall to the floor, but his hands muffled the thud by holding onto the wall, slowing down his fall.

He leaned his forehead against the wooden panels, his breathing shallow and his body trembling in restraint. His hand tentatively reached for his pants, while the other rested on the wall in front of him for support. He had to bite down on his lips to muffle a moan the moment he palmed himself from above the fabric. His bulge twitched, desperately screaming for attention but he knew he couldn't answer… He would make too much noise… and alert you… Scare you… No… He couldn't risk it… He had to wait… Wait until you finished and fell asleep… Only then… Only then he could…

Reluctantly, he tore his hand away from his pants and rested it on the wall as well, going back to focus on the sight of you. Your voice was growing louder, and each single moan and whimper that escaped you went straight to his throbbing erection, making him grit his teeth. His hips started bucking up, thrusting into the air on their own accord, moving in unison with your own as if he was the one pleasuring you… hitting your most precious spot inside you instead of your fingers.

He had to summon every ounce of willpower inside him to control himself and hold back when he heard you cry out in pleasure, your body spasming violently, shaken by waves of ecstasy.

The muffled sound of his ragged breathing drowned out your sounds as it reverberated through his mask, his hot breath condensing into tiny drops on the cold ceramic.

Brahms kept staring at you, raptured and shuddering with barely contained lust as you came down from your high and tucked yourself in again, ready to fall asleep this time.

He nearly came only from watching you, or rather, hearing you. If he could have truly seen you, nothing could have prevented him from bursting inside his pants without even touching himself. It would have been so much better than what he was going through at that very moment —shivering, gasping for air, trying to remain silent, and not answering the urge to relieve himself.

He had to make sure you were asleep first.

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#brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms the boy #brahms heelshire smut #the boy #the boy 2016 #brahms the doll #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire x you #brahms heelshire fanfic #brahms heelshire imagine #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher community #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher smut #my writing

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targaryenimagines · 3 months

Text

A Gentle Flame

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6,701

Summary: After months of trying, you are finally able to give something back to your Khaleesi that she never thought she’d have again — an heir to not only House Targaryen but the Iron Throne. You just aren’t sure how you’d like to reveal the good news to your beloved; taking solace in your dearest friend’s company as he tried to help you in revealing the truth. Of course, you should have known that your dragon’s possessive fire would never be quenched — not even for Grey Worm.

Warning(s): G!P Daenerys, jealousy/possessiveness, and pregnancy.

Notes: Can be seen as part of the “My Khaleesi” series, but can also be read as a stand-alone as well. Thank you to the wonderful @rain-mikaelson for this amazing idea!

Series Masterlist

“She doesn’t know?”

You don’t have to turn around to see, with picture perfect clarity, the confusion that must have been etched upon your dearest friends face. The thickening of his accent alone told you all you needed to know.

“No,” you reply, setting the brush you had been fiddling with firmly back in its place on your vanity. “I only just discovered it. I went to the Palace Healer after I missed my second cycle in recent months.”

The familiar sound of leather rubbing against sharpened metal echoes through the air — a telltale sign that he was processing what had been revealed — as you begin to fiddle, once more, with the brush you hadn’t needed since the conversation had commenced.

“And the Healer?” He hedges out the question, hesitation clear in his tone. “She won’t divulge anything to the Queen?”

“No, I made sure of that. The only way Daenerys will find out I’m pregnant is from my own lips and no one else’s.”

There’s a brief moment of silence. “Why tell me, Your Grace?”

Twisting around, so you’re finally staring face-to-face with your closest companion, you can’t help the small, albeit genuine, twist of your lips as you smiled at him. “Because you’re my closest friend, Grey Worm.” You wave a hand in the air, even as a melancholic twinge echoes within your heart. “Dany always had Missandei and I always had you.”

“And you still do,” he intones, clearly fighting through the wave of emotions that her name still invokes within him. “You always will, Your Highness. For as long as I shall live and be able to raise my weapon to the sky in your honor.”

You’re touched by the fierceness within his tone — not doubting, for even a second, the sincerity behind his words; Grey Worm would always protect you, would always be there — but the knowledge of what the upcoming days would bring, causes you to lean back against your vanity with a heavy sigh.

“I just don’t know how I’m going to break the news, Grey.” Running a frazzled hand through your hair, Grey Worm simply observes as you sort out the various thoughts whirling in your head. “The Summit is commencing in five days, the guests will be arriving in two, and you know how Daenerys has been planning this for months.” Your eyes raise to meet stoic brown. “I can’t have her know I’m pregnant until after.”

He tilts his head. “I would assume the Queen would be ecstatic to learn the news, Your Grace.”

“She would be,” you state, confident in that knowledge at least. “But, I can’t have that be what she’d focus on this week. Even if she’d pretend to be business as usual, we both know how Daenerys gets when even the slightest chance of my safety is in question. How do you think she’d react or behave, with all these unknowns arriving in King’s Landing, if she knew I’m with child?”

Grey Worm doesn’t respond, he didn’t have to, not when the last time your life had seemed to be in peril was still so fresh within both of your minds. You had been ambushed returning to the Red Keep after a day in the city, a couple of vagabonds testing their luck against Valyrian and Dothraki blades, it had ended quickly, but your darling wife had not taken the news of no major injuries lightly; not when things could of had a different conclusion. Daenerys had been on a warpath for weeks, refusing to let any stone go unturned, until everyone she deemed responsible for such a fuck up was punished accordingly; whether that be the genial blacksmith that had sold them their weapons, the proprietors of the tavern the vagabonds frequented and loudly discussed their plans, or the guardsmen themselves that hadn’t realized there was a threat before it was almost too late.

“She can’t know,” you stress. “Not when this Summit means so much to her.”

There’s a beat of silence, wherein your closest companion simply observes you, taking note of what feelings must have been flickering within your gaze, before he inclined his head, an imperceptible motion that only the people who knew him would be able to pick up.

“What will you have me do?”

“I wish for you to stay close, my love.”

It wasn’t a request, nor a question, by the steely undercurrent that lay within her tone, the diplomatic smile on her lips causing her eyes to strain with the force of keeping her emotions in check. You could tell that Daenerys had begun to tire of playing host to all the nobles, both of major and minor houses, that Westeros seemed so proud to boast. However, the end result of what this Summit could potentially do, collecting all of the major players within the Seven Kingdoms to witness the power that is House Targaryen, meant that she was allowing herself to be docile for the moment.

At least until the single House that caused her hackles to rise appeared.

House Stark moved as a singular unit, bringing truth to the old adage that its members were like a wolf pack, but the lone man leading met your gaze solidly with his own steely brown. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by Daenerys, nor the guard standing mere feet behind you both, and you could practically feel the air thicken with growing tension. Something that would have caused Daenerys to take up arms if she knew of the life I’m now carrying.

“Your Majesties.” A familiar gravelly voice greets, his head inclining to the both of you. “It’s a pleasure for House Stark to be invited back to King’s Landing.”

His sentiment was clearly not shared with the two women behind him — the shorter of the two looking like she was about stab someone and the taller one’s lips twisting in bitter distaste — but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Warden Snow,” Daenerys greets in return, her smile now almost looking like she was baring her teeth in warning; a sign of dominance that any wolf would know to back away from, unless it was a fight they were after. “I welcome you to the Summit with open arms. I do hope that the amenities within the Keep will be enough to sate you during the duration of your stay.” Violet eyes flicker to icy blue just behind him. “If there’s something you need, you’re more than free to find an attendant that will help you with any issue you may have.”

You stifle the urge to curse under your breath at Daenerys’ veiled insult. It was no secret that House Stark, namely the red-headed she wolf, was at odds with House Targaryen; ever since Daenerys had blatantly told them that the North would not be gaining any form of independence, siting there was no justification for it, as Daenerys had barely gained anything from the short alliance they had brokered during the Long Night. Nor did the North have anything to truly offer since The Wall fell.

It’s an argument that still caused an icy frigidity from members of House Stark now — one that Daenerys didn’t deign important enough to deal with at the present moment, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t ever watchful for what the scheming mutts could be cooking up in order to gain a modicum amount of power for their insipid region — which is why, due to their close proximity, you could feel the steady presence of Grey Worm at your back, his rigid posture even more tense than usual due to the news that only he, and the Palace Healer, were privy to. His close proximity is something you’re sure Daenerys has taken note of, if her varying glances throughout the night were anything to go by, but she was constantly pulled in different directions before she was able to speak the words that clearly wished to escape.

Although aware of your close relationship to the Captain of her Queensguard, she was also aware of Grey Worm’s unfaltering fealty to her and how he would never cross a line that Daenerys had drawn in the sand the moment she had claimed you as her own; you were off limits. The only time anyone should ever enter your personal space, barring her and your handmaidens, and even they had a tight leash to tread with, was if they were pushing you out of the way of immediate danger.

You had told Grey that his proximity would be a red flag to your wife, but his protective instincts seemed to not care as he stared impassively at the three individuals at the bottom of the dais you were standing upon.

Knowing that this could only go one way, if the looks that were being exchanged between Daenerys and the youngest Stark were anything to go by, you step forward, placing a gentle hand to the small of your wife’s back. “I believe it’s time to give your speech, Dany,” you murmur. “And we both know you don’t want to keep this crowd waiting.”

While Daenerys doesn’t turn to face you fully, you’re well aware that you have her attention, her body leaning against the palm of your hand, the simple touch soothing the roaring fire that might have been into a gentle flame.

“You’re right, ñuha perzys.” A gloved hand ghosts across your hip, but Daenerys keeps her gaze resolutely forward. “I’m afraid I must cut this rather delightful exchange short. It’s about the time that I should be addressing the room.” Violet eyes glint sharply. “Wouldn’t wish for anyone to think I favor House Stark.”

Crisis averted, you think, observing the whispered conversation between the three as they left to find their seats. For now.

A soft touch to your cheek causes you to almost jump out of your skin, the sight Daenerys’ concerned expression doing little to sate the racing of your heart. “Are you well, dearest?” Worry colors her tone, eyes flashing with a protective fire. “You’ve seemed preoccupied all night.”

“I’m fine, Dany.” You cradle the hand that’s currently still doing the same to your cheek. “It’s just been a long day. I’m anticipating when it’ll all be over and I’ll get to be alone with you.”

You could tell that your wife felt the same, but something still lurked in violet depths that you adored so much. Something that made you want to curse once more — sometimes you hated how perceptive your wife was, even if the knowledge that she observed you to the point that she could pick apart the very foundations of your moods set you alight with adoration, you couldn’t help but wish that Daenerys would let this slide.

“I’m anticipating the same,” Daenerys replies, stepping back to offer you her arm; a gesture that you accept instantly. “But, for now, we must be the royals that Westeros demands us to be.”

Keeping your gaze locked with the seat that’d be your home for the next few hours, you completely miss the look Daenerys sends Grey Worm as he diligently follows behind you, never missing a step, remaining your ever loyal shadow, and the way her arm tightens around yours that much more because of it.

“I truly don’t know why I haven’t killed them yet,” Daenerys mutters, running gentle fingers through the tangled locks of your hair. Violet eyes staring up at the ceiling of your shared bedchamber. “It’d be so easy then I could simply appoint a new Warden of the North that wouldn’t annoy me so.”

Huffing out a laugh, you rest your chin on Daenerys’ clavicle, staring at her with soft eyes, despite the topic at hand, and press a light kiss to the patch of the skin that was easily available. It was later, hours after the dinner had ended, with the moon hanging high in the sky, but, despite the weight of the day bearing down upon your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel like you were floating; here, in this bed, with your darling dragon, tangled naked in the rumpled sheets of your marital bed.

“Because you don’t wish to deal with the hassle such an action will cause, beloved,” you reply, knowing that Daenerys would appreciate your insight. “You’ve already dealt with two wars in this infernal landscape as it is. There’s no reason to fight another so soon. Not so early into your reign.”

Tendrils of your hair curl around pale fingers, a soft look etched upon her face; an expression that Daenerys only leveled at you and Drogon. “So much knowledge hidden behind such a beautiful face.” She strokes your cheek, love speaking through every action and echoed in the look upon your own face. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, which is exactly why I wish to deal with those blasted mutts.” Her arm tightens around your naked form. “I don’t trust them, and I know they don’t trust me, nor do I think they’ll just let things go. They have a personal vendetta against me and I fear they’ll use you to rectify it.”

You nuzzle closer, comforted by your Khaleesi’s sweet scent. “We don’t know what the future may bring.” Some more than others. “But, I have hope that I’ll be protected.”

What was meant as a soothing gesture, an affirmation that Daenerys would always be able to keep you safe, seemed to have the complete opposite effect. Her pliable body going stiff against your own, hand halting its comforting movement, a sharpness entering her gaze.

“Dany?” You question, rising up onto your forearms to peer down at her. The silence settling over you like a thick blanket, a brooding entity that meant she was deep in thought, an elegant brow furrowed as she tried to corral her rampant thoughts. “What’s the matter?”

Finally, after another beat of tense silence, her eyes slip to meet your own. “Do you feel that confident with your security detail, ñuha perzys?”

“Yes?” Not understanding where this line of questioning was coming from you couldn’t help the slight lilt at the end of your answer. “Of course, I do.”

A stormy look falls across your wife’s face. “Really?” She straightens to lean against her pillow, now peering down at you. “You feel so confident when those very people almost got you killed by random mercenaries? I find that hard to believe.”

“I thought we went over this when it happened, Dany,” you sigh, finally sitting up to be on a more level field. Knowing now that you weren’t going to go back to snuggling anytime soon. “The two responsible for the oversight were dealt with, by your own hand if you recall, and the rest have more than made up for it. They won’t fail me or you again.”

“It was dealt with so swiftly due to my Captain straightening it out,” Daenerys snipes, arms crossed over her naked chest, the thin sheet having fallen around her hips sometime ago. “I don’t even want to imagine what those fools would have done without him.”

A small smile curls your lips. “Yes,” you agree. “Grey Worm did an excellent job at handling the situation. I’m thankful for his help and continued support.”

Your wife’s cheek twitches due to force in which she’s clenching her jaw, a sight that causes worry to bubble within your chest. Something had obviously set her off, but you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure it out. Leaning forward, you gently take Daenerys’ hand, releasing her white-knuckled grip on the sheet, and cradle it.

“But,” you continue, ensuring you maintained eye contact. “If it wasn’t for you, my darling dragon, I know that I would have been lost long ago. You’ve saved me from so much, Dany. You’re my constant protector, my most treasured companion, and my loving wife. I could never ask for, nor want, anyone else by my side, and I’m so thankful that I get to call you mine.”

The tender words, coupled by the unwavering sincerity in your voice, finally causes Daenerys to slacken, violet eyes going soft as a hint of embarrassment reddens her cheeks. Slim hands soon finding their way around your waist to pull you back into her embrace, head nestled in the crook of her neck, as she seems to simply breathe you in.

“I’m sorry, darling.” Warm breath ghosts across your skin, a phantom touch that raises the fine hairs on your arms. “I think the long days, coupled with being around boastful imbeciles constantly, has muddled my mind more than I would like.” Long fingers curl underneath your chin, tilting your head back just enough so you could see the beginnings of a smile curling full lips. “Even getting to the point where I thought you were hiding something from me.” Daenerys huffs out a laugh, clearly perplexed at herself, even as you feel your blood freeze in your veins. “And do you want to know the funniest thing?”

Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth, a suddenly dry throat trying desperately to make any sort of sound. “W-What?”

“I believed Grey Worm was in on it.” Daenerys rolls her eyes, scoffing. “I couldn’t help but notice how attentive he’s been of you as of late. Always being one step behind you at all times.” Lean arms, that hide a strength few were ever privy to, flex around your body, pulling you closer. “Can you believe I thought something was going on between you?”

Laughter bubbles in your throat at the outlandish insinuation — you could never want, or ask for, anyone else — but the strain around your eyes, as you desperately tried to keep it together, was apparent, but Daenerys, lost in her own thoughts, obviously trying to come to terms with how she could come to such a conclusion, didn’t notice.

You weren’t sure if that fact was fortunate or not.

Soon Daenerys, curled protectively around you, falls asleep, after a final whispered apology, her gentle breathing a soothing melody that you have grown to adore over the years you’ve spent in her bed. Normally, you’d be quick to follow your Khaleesi into the land of dreams, but her words, the thinly veiled accusations, the quickly shifted in self-deprecating jokes, kept the lull of oblivion from claiming your mind.

The very notion that you’d ever cheat on Daenerys was laughable — something that would never cross your mind, an annoying gnat that you simply swatted away without a second glance — but the knowledge that she believed you wouldn’t keep something from her unsettled you. Of course, you knew you had good reasoning behind your decision, but it still stung all the same; feeling like you were betraying your wife somehow.

Your wife didn’t have faith in many people — the ones she used to were either dead, imprisoned, or gone from her life in some other fashion — which left only a small handful left: Drogon, Grey Worm, and yourself.

The Summit will be over in three days. You just have to hold out for three more days.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force the thoughts, and the feelings they invoke, from your mind as you nuzzle closer to your wife; heart aching when she instantly brings you closer in response.

Just three more days, my love, you think, pressing closer. Three more days and then I can tell you the news that we’ve both been so desperate for. Just three more days…

It never seemed like such a large amount of time before.

Guilt, you learn, did not go well with pregnancy.

You weren’t able to be around Daenerys for long after that night — knowing what you did and what you were keeping from her — which was something that could easily be explained due to how hectic the daily life usually was in King’s Landing; now multiplied even further due to the Summit. Feigning different duties around the castle was simple, even if you missed your wife terribly during the long hours apart, that ache was easier to handle then the one that erupted every time you looked into her soft gaze.

The guilt, coupled with your own growing symptoms of your condition, caused your stomach to twist constantly, ensuring that you spent a large portion of the day keeled over a bucket with Grey Worm standing watch.

Of course, after the first day, when you only greeted Daenerys with a fleeting kiss to the cheek, and an airy greeting mixed soon after with a brief farewell, your wife began to grow concerned, her gaze often seeking you out within the crowded room of nobles and dignitaries. Uncaring of anyone that may be trying to talk to her, her attention focused solely on you alone, something you wouldn’t normally mind, except for the simple fact that you’d sing like a canary if she leveled you with inquisitive look one more time.

You hadn’t come this far to mess up on the last day of the Summit; the final meeting being hosted in the Dragon Pit, recently reconstructed to an echo of its former glory. Although your darling son refused to even grace the structure with his presence unless it was to deliver you and Daenerys.

“Are you feeling well, Your Grace?” The familiar presence settled a half-step behind you, his accented voice a relief over the miasma of varying conversations that were occurring as people prepared to head over to the Dragon Pit. “Do you require anything?”

“No,” you reply, side-stepping an obviously over encumbered stable hand, as you spot the hulking obsidian mass that was Drogon; the people unfortunate enough to have left their things where he decided to land were scuttling around him like frantic ants, his own expression one of boredom if it was ever possible for a reptilian face to showcase such an emotion. “I’ll be fine for now. Thank you, Grey.”

At the sound of your approaching voice, Drogon swings his head in your direction, crimson eyes lighting up in recognition, as a gentle croon rumbles from deep within his chest. The people around him pause their activities, afraid that he may lunge any second, but your son didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, he lowered his head to give you easy access to scratch the underside of his chin, pebbled scales warm against your cool fingers.

“I’ve missed you too.” You smooth your hand out against his jaw, an adoring smile on your face. “Need to make sure that I carve out more time to see you in the future.”

You can’t even begin to imagine how lonely he must feel — what was once three was now only one — if the ache in your chest was anything to go by it must be difficult; something you didn’t wish for your son to go through alone.

A son, you quickly notice, that was now pressing his snout against your stomach, a low rumble sounding from deep within his throat, not unlike the croon he released earlier, but this, coupled with the protective glint in his fiery gaze, made you understand, with perfect clarity, that Drogon knew. That he had no doubt about the life you were now carrying.

“I know that you and your mama have this special connection,” you whisper, scratching his jaw. “Like the one that I shared with Viserion, but you can’t give her any hints about what you’ve discovered.” Crimson eyes flicker in understanding, his intelligence shining through. “Do you think you’ll be able to hold your protective instincts back for the day, Drogon?”

You knew, even as you asked, that it would be like asking Daenerys the same exact thing. Something that causes your stomach to twist once more. You could play off Grey Worm’s presence and increased vigilance, as he had been appointed to your guard until competent ones were found, but Drogon? Your wife would instantly be able to tell that something was happening, and it probably wouldn’t take her any time at all to discover what it was.

Which meant that you wouldn’t be able to fly with Daenerys to the Dragon Pit; something you had been looking forward to as it’d give you a chance to be with your wife, soaring over the city she had claimed, and may cause the growing suspicion to die within her gaze.

“Ready to go, ñuha perzys?” Daenerys’ lovely voice causes you to startle, wide eyes meeting her questioning one. “I believe we’ll be able to do a few laps around King’s Landing before the first people arrive at the Dragon Pit.” A charming smile catches your wife’s lips. “Giving us a chance to spend time with one another. I’ve missed you the last few days.”

The genuine statement causes your heart to twist, your stomach lurching, but you maintain your smile, hoping that you didn’t look as faint as you felt. “I was actually thinking of taking Nox.” You gesture to the dark stallion, his large stature easily seen over the fences of his stable. “Grey Worm has been meaning to show me something, and it’s on the way to the Dragon Pit, so I thought I’d just do both at once.”

While the genial smile doesn’t fall from Daenerys’ lips, the fire behind her eyes grows with intensity until it’s almost scalding across your skin. “Grey Worm?” At the mention of his name from his Queen’s mouth, the aforementioned man steps from his place in the shadows. Forever dutiful, even if it meant walking straight into the gaping maw of a dragon. “You wish to go with Grey Worm instead of me?”

Any other time the incredulous tone within your wife’s voice, causing it to turn almost shrill, would have made you chuckle, but you could see the darkness that was beginning to become apparent — one that had a propensity to turn lethal if it wasn’t dealt with appropriately — and you wanted nothing more than to chase those shadows away; to bring your wife back into the light.

Just a few more hours, you try to soothe yourself. Just a few more hours and this will all be behind you. You’ll be able to tell Dany and everything will right itself.

“Yes,” you reply, maintaining an air of obliviousness in hopes that Daenerys wouldn’t press the issue further. “Besides, I’ve been meaning to let Nox stretch his legs for some time now. You know how Dothraki horses can be, Dany. They’ll only get more irritable the longer they’re cooped up.”

Violet eyes shift from you, to Grey Worm, all the way to the aforementioned stallion across the courtyard, until they land back on you; the expression on her face made you glad that this would be the last day of the Summit, because you know that Daenerys was at the end of her patience, that she wouldn’t let you get away with this one. For now, as the sounds of various voices finally broke in through the haze of everything untold, and Daenerys allows herself to shift back into her queenly stature.

Even though, you knew, that it’d only take one more thing for the bow to break, and then nothing would keep her from finding the answers she’s seeking.

“Very well.” Her tone clipped, detached in a way that stings your heart, Daenerys easily mounts Drogon and stares down at you. “I hope that your journey to the Dragon Pit is fruitful, but do be prepared for the discussions that’ll take place once we return to the Keep.”

And, with those parting words, and one last gentle nudge from Drogon, Daenerys is in the air, soaring higher into the sky until she breaches the clouds. You wish, more than anything, you were with her and your son, but you know that this was the right course of action. Even if it felt like it was the absolute worst.

Grey Worm settles beside you. “I wasn’t aware there would be more talks after the meeting held at the Dragon Pit.”

“There isn’t.” Your stomach twists, meeting concerned brown eyes with a grim expression. “That was a direct summons for me, and only me, by my darling wife.”

The heavy doors of your bedchamber close with a sharp bang behind you, a sound that almost causes you to flinch if it wasn’t for the woman watching you from across the room garnering all of your attention instantly. Daenerys had already changed out of her court attire — wearing a simple dress instead of the black ensemble she had been wearing, the very one she had worn upon conquering King’s Landing — but she looked anything but relaxed.

“You’ve been avoiding me, dearest.” It’s not a question, simply a statement of fact, as Daenerys stalks towards you. “And I’ve been trying to figure out why. Why would my darling wife not wish to be in my presence? Why would my most cherished companion not wish to see me?” She’s closer now, close enough for you to see the rage that’s beginning to build in her slim form. “And do you know what I uncovered? The only possible reason I could come up with?”

You’re not going to like this. “What?”

“Guilt,” Daenerys snarls, lips pulling into a sneer. It’s clear she was trying to rein herself in, that her famous temper wished to unleash itself, but, even now, when she was at her breaking point, she’d never wish to turn it on you. Something that both breaks and reassembled your heart. “You’re guilty about something. To the point that you practically reek with it now. Of course, I truly don’t know what you could feel guilty about, until I remembered the conversation we had a few nights ago.”

Oh no…

She’s pacing in front of you now, a short line that doesn’t take her too far from you, but gave enough room to excise some of the energy bubbling within her. “A conversation wherein I explicitly told you that I believed you and Grey Worm were hiding something from me. Where you told me that I didn’t have to worry.” The sharpness in her tone, the accusation within her eyes, were like physical blows. “So, I truly don’t know what to believe. Should I believe my wife, who’s been pulling away from me, or should I believe my gut instinct and deal with the problem immediately?”

Your eyes snap to look at Daenerys, horror-stricken. “Deal with the problem? What in the Seven Hells do you mean by the that, Daenerys?” Stepping closer to your wife, when she doesn’t answer immediately, you can’t help the desperate lilt from entering your voice. “What have you done to Grey Worm? Did you do something to him? Answer me!”

“Begging for your lovers life already?” Anger twists her face, shrouding the deep love you know she has for you. “I haven’t done anything, but make no mistake that it means I won’t. I’m going to make that man remember that when you swear fealty to House Targaryen it’s for life, and there isn’t any room for dissenters.”

Lover?

An even more horrific realization strikes you like an arrow to the chest.

“You think he’s my lover?” Barring the complications that would already bring due to the environment Grey was raised in, you couldn’t even begin to comprehend him in that manner. Nor could you ever imagine wanting anyone else beside your wife. “No, Dany, no.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and move to settle on the end of your bed. This wasn’t how you wanted to tell her — over a nice dinner, after a nice ride on Drogon, or simply curled up together in this very bed — but you had created this situation and now you had to go with where it’s led you. Looking up, taking note that Daenerys had trailed after you, a gentle smile curls your lips and you beckon your wife closer.

“Grey Worm isn’t my lover, Dany. Nor will he ever be. I know that things have been tense these last few days, but I never wish for you to think that I’d ever be unfaithful to you.” Taking her hand, you tug her pliant body closer, even if you could still see the tension within the rigidity of her shoulders. “You are, and will forever be, my first, my last, and my always.” You place a tender kiss to her clothed abdomen, leaning into her comforting warmth. “Why would I ever want anyone else when I have my Khaleesi?”

Slender fingers run through your hair, the familiar motion allowing your eyes to slip shut contentment. “Then what has been going on, ñuha perzys? You haven’t been yourself and I still have half a mind to take Grey Worm to the dungeons to get him to answer me.”

Looking up, resting your chin on her abdomen, you peer into the violet gaze that you adore. “You’re not going to do anything to Grey Worm, Daenerys. He hasn’t done anything except be a good friend to me and faithfully serve me to the best of his ability.” Standing up, you easily maneuver Daenerys to settle in the position you had just been in, now looking down at your beautiful wife. “Which is something you’ve desperately wanted for me, if I recall.”

“Not if it means that I’m kept in the dark about you.”

The petulant pout causes a tender expression to fall across your features, love and adoration sparking within your heart, as you look at the woman that could turn the world to ash in an instant melting into your gentle touch. And, in that moment, you knew it was time.

So, without preamble, you take one of her hands and gently place it on your abdomen in return. “I didn’t wish to tell you until the Summit was over because it was too important to screw up, and I’m well aware how you get when my health is involved.” Your fingers ghost across her sharp jawline, watching as the beginning of her understanding begins to spark within her gaze. “Add our unborn child’s health too? The Summit would have ended like a Dothraki Wedding if you had your way, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

There’s a beat of silence wherein Daenerys digests the news, a multitude of emotions flickering across her face, before complete and utter jubilation takes its prominent spot.

“You’re pregnant?” Her hand presses gently against the spot you had placed it, wanting to get closer to the life that lay within. “We’re going to be parents?”

You grin. “We’re having a baby, Dany.”

Before you know it, you’re wrapped in the tightest embrace Daenerys had ever given you, happy tears staining the skin of your neck as she nuzzles closer. You’re well aware that she was going to have a talk with you about your secrecy at a later date, especially given the fact that Grey Worm knew before her, but, for now, she was content in simply holding you in her arms, the both of you sharing in the happiness the moment brought.

“Drogon won’t be alone anymore.” Violet eyes look down at your abdomen with utmost affection. “He’ll finally have a sibling again.”

You press your forehead against hers. “The dragons will be returning to Westeros, my Khaleesi, and the skies will once again be filled with dragon song.”

“And everyone will know the power of House Targaryen.”

“Yes,” you murmur, pressing your lips to hers in a chaste embrace. “As well as the woman who leads them.”

“The women,” Daenerys gently corrects. “For I’d still be lost if I didn’t have my darling Queen by my side.”

“And I’d never know that I was cold without the gentle flame of your love keeping me warm.” You lean into her touch, pressing your bodies firmly together. “You brought me to life, Dany, and I’ll never take the love you’ve given me for granted.”

Daenerys smiles. “Together we will bring back what has been stolen from my family, we will right the wrongs that have plagued this land, and we’ll ensure that our children will be able to reap the benefits once we’re done.” She smooths her hand across your abdomen. “Even if it means Fire and Blood will be paid in penance to make it happen.”

“Together.”

For one couldn’t be without the other — the Khaleesi and her Queen — as it always should be.

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys x reader #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys #game of thrones imagine #got imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagines #daenerys imagine #house of the dragon

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baddiewiththebook · 11 months

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ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.

[Part 2] Part 3

-> <-

You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.

Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.

You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.

Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.

You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.

Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.

When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.

Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.

You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?

You shy away from the window.

Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.

If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.

As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.

The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.

You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.

After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.

“Jesus!” You curse.

The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.

You toss the milk.

Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.

By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.

That’s exactly what you do.

The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’

You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.

“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.

You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”

“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”

“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”

The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.

The school bell rings.

You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.

Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.

You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.

Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.

Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.

“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.

Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”

You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?

“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.

You’re toast.

Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.

You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.

“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.

See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.

Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.

“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”

“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.

You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.

You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”

You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.

“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”

Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.

Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.

You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.

“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”

Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.

“What’s going on here?!”

Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.

“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.

“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.

Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”

You gulp.

It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.

You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.

That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.

After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.

“Over there!”

Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.

Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.

Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”

“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”

Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”

“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”

“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”

Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.

“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.

Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.

"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."

"This is so humiliating," you cry.

Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”

“You’re sorry?”

You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.

“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”

“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”

“Wild imagination?!”

“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”

“You done?”

“No!” You snap. “Yes.”

“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”

"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.

“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”

“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.

You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”

Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”

“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.

“We’re okay,” he says.

-> <-

Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.

“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.

Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”

“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”

Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.

“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”

“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”

Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.

Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.

“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”

Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!

“Really?” Wayne excites.

Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”

“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”

“No-,”

“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”

“Wayne-,”

“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”

“Wayne!”

“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”

That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.

You smoke one joint.

After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.

“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.

Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”

“Oh, my God.”

Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.

It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.

“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.

Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”

“Son-,”

“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”

Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.

“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”

Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.

“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.

He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.

“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.

Eddie nods.

“You have to try,” he insists.

“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.

Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.

Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.

Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.

Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.

You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.

When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.

Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.

When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.

The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.

Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.

Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.

Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.

You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.

This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.

The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.

Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.

Oh, God. What was he doing?

Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.

Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.

His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.

Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.

“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.

Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.

“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.

“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.

You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.

Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”

He reads your face.

“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”

Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”

While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.

You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.

The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.

You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.

You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.

Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’

You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?

Because that’s not you standing at the alter.

That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.

“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.

He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.

You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.

It doesn't take long for him to ask,

"Can I take you out sometime?"

And, of course, you say. "Yes!"

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson preference #eddie munson imagine #angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things preference #stranger things fic

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bountycancelled · 8 months

Text

decisions

luke castellan x child of hecate!reader

requested: yep! I hope you like it anon

warnings: allusions about death, but no character dies.

content: yall, it's 1 am rn, and I just wanna go to sleep. it's unedited and nothing bad happens I promise. I'll do a proper content thingy in the morning. pls enjoy while I pass out.

"you know those kids are probably gonna have nightmares for at least a week, right?"

you didn't need to turn to know who was behind you as you leaned against a tree trunk, toying with a twig in your hands. Luke castellan seemed to have an affinity for interrupting you anytime you found solace in being alone. you didnt know how he just... knew, when and where to find you during times like these, but he always did. you found yourself minding his presence less and less as time when on.

"they should consider themselves lucky, I was debating whether or not I should just summon a ghost for them tonight, but I figured they couldn't handle it, and this camp doesn't have any trauma counselling so." the leaves on the twig in your hand withered at an accelerated place in your hands, and a part of you felt bad. you usually kept your distance from anything living since you knew your touch had the possibility of having an adverse, and sometimes deadly affect, but tonight was just one of those nights.

Luke chuckled at your words, plucking one of the now wilted leaves from the twig in your grasp as he spoke up once more. "you know, I actually want you to help me with something, if you don't mind. I need help deciding whether or not I should do something."

you rolled your eyes, giving him a pointed look. "you know I can't make decisions for you. I don't have the ability to know what consequences you'll have to deal with."

"isn't hacate the goddess of crossroads?" Luke countered, a small smirk on his face. you knew that he was only pestering you because he thought it was funny that you always needed to explain your abilities and your godparent to people, but you couldn't just keep silent at his bait nonetheless.

"that doesn't make me some kind of fortune teller, I can't decide for you which direction to go to when you reach a fork on the path. I just have a vague understanding over what you're currently debating if you should do."

"okay okay, no fortune telling. but can you at least point me in the right direction? it doesn't matter how vague." he asked, and you tilted your head to stare up at the starry sky, because you knew that even in the dark, Luke could convince you to help him with nothing but a pleading glint in his deep eyes.

he didn't relent at tour silence or your avoidance of his gaze, uttering a small "please?" which finally broke your resolve.

you took a deep breath, finally looking at him once again, your face deep in concentration. "not a guide either. but I get the sense that... if you don't do what you're thinking of doing, you'll regret it." you felt a bit lightheaded afterwards, but the tree you were leaning against was enough security for you.

Luke on the other hand didnt seem to think so, showcased by how his hands immediately went to your shoulders in an effort to keep you up, while also unintentionally coming closer. a bit too close for comfort, but you were too foggy for the lack of distance to hit you yet.

he nodded at your advice, biting his lip before speaking once again, not missing the way your eyes flicked towards his lips and then back to his eyes, almost instantaneously.

"then I'll just go ahead and say it, I like you. a lot." he had expected a few different reactions, you immediately jumping into his arms and accepting his confession (his personal favourite hypothesis), you shyly stating that you felt the same way, you being shocked that he had feelings for you at all (he liked to believe that he wasn't entirely obvious) but he didn't expect what you did next.

instead, you blew air from your nose, giving him a look he couldn't quite place. "you have horrible taste. and you're also delusional. we've had maybe 4 conversations the entire we've known each other, and you like me?" you rolled your eyes, shaking your head at the words you were about to utter. "but I guess that makes me delusional too, because I feel the same way."

he pouted at your words, feigning hurt with a hand placed on his chest. "you wound me. if I had known you were gonna be this mean... I would've confessed sooner." he added with a slight smirk, trailing his other hand from your shoulder down to your waist, leaning his face towards yours.

you were quick to shut down his advance, maneuvering your way out of his hold. "one thing you're gonna need to get used to, castellan. no touching. at all. at least, not until I'm sure I can control my ability. you have a goodnight though." you called out as you walked away from a now needy Luke, leaving him leaning against the tree.

he quickly followed after you, trying to plead his case. "no touching? that's insane, how could I not touch you? I'm not afraid of death, especially if it comes from my hands on your body, or vice versa. I'll happily forfeit my life for a kiss. come on, I'm fine with just a peck. actually, no. I take that back. if I'm gonna die, we need to make out before I go."

you simply shook your head, reiterating your rule, unable to stop a grin from forming on your face. you stopped abruptly, turning to face him with a serious look in your eyes. "... okay. but just a peck. im serious."

it was not just a peck. but luckily, Luke made it out alive. (though, he seriously wouldn't have minded if he didn't.)

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfiction #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo #percy series #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x you #luke castellan apologist #luke castellan angst

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 4 months

Text

Ghostbuster. || kidnapper!Simon "Ghost" Riley

[ FIC MASTERLIST ] || [ CHAPTER 2 -> ]

Rating: M + Dark Fic + DDNE Words: 4.2k~ Pairing: Serial Killer!Reader x Serial Kidnapper!Ghost CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dark fic, serial killing, serial kidnapping, torture, body disposal, death, murder (purposeful), murder (accidental), mentions of rape? (neither Simon nor reader rapes anyone!!!!!), blood, knife/weapons, gross abandoned buildings, police verbage. tags: dark fic, serial killer AU, no smut (for now), OOC Simon, you/your pronouns, afab!reader, reader & simon terrorizing the city of Manchester, Manchester geography/accuracy?. a/n: fully inspired by the post below, by @moongreenlight ; also fully a gift for @superhero-landing

"This marks the 7th body found in the Greater Manchester area in the last 6 months."

It's dark outside. Eerily so. Probably because, although the moon is high in the sky, full and bright, plenty of clouds hide it from view. The weather forecast speaks of heavy rains for the next few weeks, but you got lucky... It's not currently raining. It leaves the night feeling weirdly still and quiet, the roads long empty after people retreated into their homes after work.

But not you. Never you.

You turn your head to peer at the old box TV in the room over your shoulder, your eyes narrowed in on the screen where the news anchor talks about the police investigation at hand.

"The victim, a 24-year-old university student, residing in Wythenshawe, had been reported missing last month, on the 18th, after having not come home after a nightout with friends."

The old shop is dark too, barely illuminated by a camping lantern you've brought inside when you first broke in. The air is stale, almost unbreathable from all the dust; the floor, and counters caked in a layer of dried particles, courtesy of the decades' long abandonment the shop has suffered, as well as the ceiling panels having come loose, knocking down concrete dust all over the shop.

Shaking your head, you carefully click your tongue in displeasure, while you clean the tool in your hand with a rag, keeping your eyes and ears still honed into the broadcast. "Poor thing." You comment to yourself.

Your head slumps forward to reach your arm, and you rub the underside of your nose with the back of your hand and forearm, sniffling a bit to clean some of the snot dribbling down your nostrils due to the overly dusty air.

"The Great Manchester Police HQ has issued a warning on the brutality of the recent string of murders and their commitment to find the people responsible. The Police Chief urges that anyone who might have any information to please come forth."

Sighing, you turn your head away again, as the news anchor drones on about the funeral for the young girl who was just found. You step away toward the array of tools displayed, for your convenience, on one of the old counters, laid neatly across a black tool roll bag and carefully set the knife atop it.

The shop smells. It's not entirely unpleasant, but you've gotten used to it either way. You're pretty sure if you weren't, it'd smell horrendous, like it did in the beginning. Stale, dusty air, old blood caked into the gashes and knife cuts on the wooden countertops, tools that were abandoned and grew colonies of bacteria after enough time went past, old vent systems that haven't been cleaned, meat display cases that didn't get disinfected before the butcher shop went out of business.

Tossing the rag aside, atop the butcher's block countertop, you run a finger over the wristband of your black cooking gloves, the latex feeling sticky and damp due to the fresh blood caked onto it. Turning on your heel, you return to the center of the room and look down at the body slumped on the chair before you.

"That guy is a fucking sicko, isn't he?" You complain and crouch before the man tied to the chair, raising his bruised and bloodied face by gripping him around the chin.

The man before you looks like the rest of them, balding and with a 5-o'clock shadow of a beard. He was greying as well, as most of them tend to be. Old, perverted bastards... He's slowly paling before your eyes, the blood slipping down his abdomen, soaking through his clothes and flowing onto the drain below his rickety chair.

"You know, you've gotta be a particularly... Nasty bastard to kill women that young... To bathe and redress them post-mortem..." You trail off. The man before you doesn't reply. He looks groggy and languid, blinking irregularly, and his chest heaving. Barely aware of anything as his life, much like his blood, drains from him.

It's almost poetic to watch his blood stain the white tile of the backroom of the shop, the walls lined with racks and hooks meant to, in the past, hang carcasses from... Almost like this old cooler room is finally fulfilling its role again, to cool and drain a dead body of its blood, all of it flowing down the incline toward the drain...

"I believe I saw in a few Criminal Minds episodes that those types that... clean them afterward feel 'regret' for what they did." You shake your head and kiss your teeth in annoyance.

"They feel regret after it's done, but not while they do it. 'es it mean they gain a conscience after the fact?" You ask him. "Monsters, the lot of them..." You chide and scoff, letting go of the man's face.

Then, you smirk as you notice his breathing get shallower, his head going a bit more limp, hanging low, his chin pressing over to his chest. Leaning forward, you bring your mouth close to his ear, your lips almost grazing his ear. "Don't worry, I won't clean you up once I'm done."

Sitting in your dark bedroom, you lounge back lazily on your desk chair, chewing some bubblegum and tapping away at your mouse before scrolling down a forum page.

The room, much like the rest of your flat is dark, only illuminated by the bright blue-toned light emanating from your computer screen, even in dark mode.

The best part of the internet age is the fact people share, comment and gossip about everything. It makes your research so much easier. Though, you suppose it's human nature... to be curious and gossipy. Social creatures and such.

Clicking on one of the posts on the subreddit r/ManchesterCrime, you skim through the post, where the OP is mentioning how they live nearby to the location where the new body was dumped: the southside of Manley Park.

Grabbing your pink fuzzy-top pen and a couple of highlighter markers, you get up from your desk chair and lean over your desk to the corkboard hanging behind it.

You take your writing materials to the printed map of the Greater Manchester area which you had pinned to the cork slab, tracing the information you have so far:

Resident of Wythenshawe.

Captured somewhere between The Three Pigeons and home.

Dumped in Manley Park.

You set down your pens and grab some pink wool string and a couple more pins, using them to rig up a new line to connect the dots over the map.

Taking a step back, you look up at the map and sighed, shaking your head, feeling anger flowing through your veins.

You have been trying to figure out the killer's area of operation for months... Trying to triangulate it, find a pattern...

But nothing.

No convergence point for the lines; no silly little connect-the-dots shape being formed; no secret message being shared... Or maybe there is and you just suck at reading it.

So far, all you have is 7 pieces of string of different colors... 7 victims. All over Manchester, with no overlay.

Just... 7 young girls taken for weeks at a time, killed and then dumped like rubbish.

Has he been taking them to different secondary locations all over the city before slaughtering them?

Has he been driving about, passing by schools and homes and banks and shops, on his way to the dump sites... with a body in his car?

Allegedly, they were all bathed and redressed, with no signs of sexual trauma or abuse, other than a stark loss of weight and some rope burn around the wrists and ankles...

But who really knows?

You are no PI or constable, just a sleuth. Whatever information you have, you got from the internet and from the news... You have no way to be sure of anything.

It angers you to imagine what he had been doing to those poor girls while keeping them to himself.

The poor, terrified girls... someone's sister, someone's daughter, someone's girlfriend, someone's friend... And he had been plucking them from their mundane, safe lives and murdering them?

Throwing yourself back down onto your chair, you stack your fingers together, elbows on the armrests, and swiveled side to side as you looked at the corkboard map.

You hate men like this.

Predators.

Taking and hurting and killing with no issue or hesitation... Sure, psychologists might allege that he feels regret and expresses it by caring for them after death... But you disagree with that interpretation.

You've never met a man who regrets hurting a woman.

It's almost funny how easy it was to play with a man's emotions.

They see a pretty face marred by running mascara and red, swollen tear-filled eyes, holding a thumb out for a ride on the side of the road, and they always stop.

From then on, you can just spin whatever sob story about needing a ride...

Men love to play the hero... and oh, how idiotic they are.

They always let you in, and within an hour you have a new warm body to tie up and toy with.

In a way, you are actually surprised by how long you've been able to get away with this for.

You're secretly thankful your murders have not been given any attention so far.

You suppose that's one thing you could thank that... killer for.

You hate how the internet had given him a name already:

The Ghost

because someone allegedly witnessed him dumping a body in Heaton Park, and then vanished into the shadows of the night like a spectre.

Don't they know what happens when they give these types killers nicknames?

How that embiggens and emboldens them?

Have they never watched a true crime show? Or even a fictional one?

But... regardless... as long as young women are being slaughtered by a maniacal monster of a man, and, therefore, kept in the eyes of the world... No one is going to notice the missing middle-aged men you'd been consistently murdering for the better part of 3 years.

Yet another way where men have the upper hand over women. Lady killers just don't get taken as seriously.

You think of that as you watch the body disappear under the water, the cinder blocks you had tied to his feet dragging him under.

You wait a few minutes after his bald head vanishes from view, making sure it doesn't re-emerge, your hands tucked into the pockets of your parka, dead leaves crushed under your hiking boots.

Another body; the 8th one.

This one got dumped much quicker.

A 26-year-old till clerk at a Tesco had been reported missing only 36 hours before her body got found.

The news spoke about the incident and the GMPHQ deemed it a separate occurrence. An accident. The girl had been a Type 1 diabetic and seemed to have had a fatal sugar crash.

But you know it has to have been 'The Ghost'.

You don't know why. But you can just tell.

And, for the first time, as you draw up the line over the map, to signal where she got picked up and where she got dumped... there's an overlay.

The pick-up site, somewhere between her job, and her home... and the dumpsite.. Alexandra Park, near Oldham. Both those locations were mere minutes away from where the second victim had been picked up months ago.

Has he gotten sloppy?

Has her sudden death thrown a wrench in his plans and caused him to panic and pick somewhere nearby?

Your eyebrows twitch and a smirk takes over your lips as you finally find something you can exploit.

"Got you, you fuckin' knob'ead." You say and can't help the proud chuckle that escapes your mouth.

Simon's pissed off.

He feels like shit after having gotten that girl killed on his watch.

Not that he hadn't gotten the other ones killed either, but this one had truly been an accident.

Between the stress and the fear, her blood sugar had dropped and Simon hadn't noticed before he left the house to pop to the shops and get them both some food.

And by the time he got back and made her dinner, she was just... gone.

It startled him.

Startled him more than when the other ones died.

While looking in her purse for a justification as to why she passed... like any medication he failed to give her, he found the insulin pen and the sugar monitor.

So now, here he is. Back on the street. Back on the prowl. With 8 accidental kills under his belt and a desperate need to fix his streak.

He drives aimlessly. It's a Saturday night and Simon was sure he was going to find some young, vulnerable girl wandering about and stumbling over her own feet, too drunk or high to even walk in a straight line without stumbling or having to lean on street lamps and walls for support.

He hates seeing girls in that state. Young, vulnerable, alone... Left to be preyed upon by some creep in the shadows... Their support systems having failed them...

What kind of friend leaves a drunk girl to find her way home alone when she can barely stand?

What kind of manager lets an employee walk home after dark?

What kind of parent, or sibling, lets a girl walk home from the bus terminal during a storm?

And then they wonder why girls get raped or murdered senselessly by dirty bastards in back alleys.

That only happens because no one protects these vulnerable girls.

They protect them as children, but not as adults? What kind of world does such a thing?

Probably the same world that misinterprets his actions as senseless killing.

He's not a killer.

He's... just very bad at taking care of the girls he... 'helps'...

He never means to hurt them. He's no monster. He just wants to protect them.

For once it's actually raining. Heavily so. The water has soaked through the slinky mini skirt and spaghetti strap top you're wearing, your heels are open-toed and slippery, and each step you take feels like you're about to fall face-first into the mud.

You've had your arm out-stretched and your thumb up for the better part of an hour, trying to flag down any car driving past, only to get no luck.

You're at your wits' end, and so so close to calling it a night and trying to stop baiting a driver into taking you in. It's that bad tonight. You can't seem to reel anything in.

The cold wind nips at the exposed skin on your arms and legs, and you know well you'll spend the next week in bed with the nastiest cold of your life.

A car zooms past you as you walk and show your thumb, only to groan and protest when it doesn't stop...

But it does slow down to a stop not far ahead of you, having turned on its blinkers after spotting your outstretched arm and thumb up.

Rushing over to it, you stumble a few times and trip and slip with your heels on the wet tar of the road, before you come up to the passenger side door.

Look in the window, you find a young-ish looking bloke behind the wheel, looking at you with concerned eyes and knitted brows. He leans over and pops the door open for you.

"Get in, get in!" He tells you urgently when he notices you shivering like a wet dog in the rain.

Climbing inside the car carefully, you close the door behind you, hearing how the rain and wind turn muffled once you do.

It's surprisingly clean inside, the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror smelling of pine. It's also warm, so warm, the heater running at max temp and making the car so much more cosy.

"Oh my God, thank you so much for stopping!" You whine, forcing yourself to sniffle and hiccup as tears pour down your face. They're fake ones, warranted by you watching a handful of soldier-coming-home videos on youtube and using some menthol-infused stick in your undereye.

"You alright, sweet'eart?" The man asks as he looks at you with worried eyes. "Are you all alone out here?" He asks and glances out of the window.

He's younger than most of the men you usually bait out, but he'll do. He's also... more handsome than most of them too. Long, prominent nose, a long jaw and chin, pouty pink lips, and the biggest brown eyes, not to mention a crew cut worth of blonde hair.

"Yeah..." You sniffle. "My boyfriend he... we were coming back from a birthday party and we... he... we were arguing and he tossed me out of the car and... and...!" You explain. The practiced lie slips through your teeth quickly. It's been used on about 7 of the 20 or so men you've wiped off the map, and you say it as if you truly believe it, which helps sell it.

You also stumble over your words, as if you're starting to choke up, to make sure you sound even more distraught. Men love when you're hyperventilating.

"Alright, it's alright-!" He tries to reassure you and sets a hand on your shoulder. "God, you're freezing. How long have you been out there?" He asks you, concerned.

"I- I don't know! An hour?" You answer with a whine, your lip quivering as more sobs rack your body.

Your eyes are sharp, though. You're noting his every movement. How he quickly pulls away from the backrest of his seat and shrugs off his coat and wraps it around your bare shoulders. "Here. It's alright. You're alright."

You continue softly sniffling, tucking your legs to the side toward the door, while hiding your face in your hand.

"Where can I take you?" The blond man asks gently as he glances at you and slowly leans closer, resting an arm on the steering wheel, the other on the centre console.

"I don't... I don't know..." You whine and sniffle. "I can't... I can't go home... I can't face him right now..." You trail off. "I can't believe he'd toss me out of the car like that...!"

"Well, I'm sorry to say, love, but he sounds like a right knob'ead." He says and carefully pats you on the shoulder. "How about I take you to the bus terminal? Or the station?"

"I don't know...!" You whimper. "He took my things with him... I can't even buy a ticket home to my mum..." You hiccup and try to clean the tears off the corner of your eyes.

He's handsome, he speaks calmly, hasn't tried to touch you longer than simply patting you for reassurance, and even gave you his jacket... You almost feel bad about doing this to him. Almost.

"Tell you wha'." The bloke says as he leans a bit closer, tilting his head to look at you in the eye. "I'll take you to the bus terminal and give you a couple more pounds so you can call your family or a friend to come get you, yeah?"

Sniffling, you shake your head. "No... you're already... doing so much! I can't... I can't even pay you back!" You add.

You really should earn an Oscar for this performance. The damsel in distress who's actually such a good girl that she doesn't want to impose on this man's money or take too much of his help.

"Don't worry about any of that." He tells you and waves his hand to dismiss the point, before leaning over and fixing the direction of the air vents on the dash, making sure they point at you to keep you warm. "You don't have to pay me back, alright?"

Nodding a bit, you try to stop crying and rub your eyes with your hands, causing an even bigger mess within your make-up, your fingers now also stained with mascara.

"Here. It's alright. No need to cry anymore." The driver says affectionately as he offers you a tissue from a pack, before he shifts in his seat and starts driving forward.

Simon watches you out of the corner of his eye as he drives. Poor little thing, all alone, abandoned by her boyfriend, left on the side of the road...

It's like the universe had handed you to him on a silver platter. He couldn't not take you in! And, this time, he's not going to let anything happen to you.

He's not risking it.

And so of course he's going to soothe you, to calm you down, you, the poor little thing, that got left on a side road by your awful boyfriend, like a stray cat no one wants to feed...

That's the thought in his head as he drives down the wet roads, the windshield wipers working overtime to beat the pouring rain that decided to attack the city of Manchester even more aggressively than usual.

Simon glances at you out of the corner of his eye every few minutes, making sure to drive carefully and steadily, and trying to spot the look in your face as he does.

You still seem stressed, frazzled, worried. The tears haven't stopped despite your breathing having settled...

He wonders if you've had anything to drink. You're definitely not drunk, but the amount of tears... maybe tipsy?

Maybe you won't even need to be threatened. You'll just... let him take you into his house, gently guide you into the bathroom and let you wash off the mud and rain...

He'll give you clothes, and food, and let you watch tv with him... And he'll keep you warm and safe, like everyone in your life has failed to, that got you to the moment you were now in...

Alone.

Afraid.

Abandoned.

He wants to tell you not to worry, that he's here now... But he holds his tongue. You'll hear it later.

"You should've kept going forward instead of turning right..." You say aloud, forcing your voice to still sound soft and meek, as you look out of the window.

You've been driving for a while. You've kept your head low, enjoying the warmth coming from the A/C, which helps with the genuine cold wetness of the rain that settled on your skin and bones.

You're not stupid. You know the way to the bus terminal and to all the train stations in the area...

He's not taking you to either. In fact, you're pretty sure you've taken 3 rights in the last 5 minutes, and are, in short, going back the way you came.

"Sorry. It's easy to get turned around with this rain, I'll go back to the main road." He replies. His tone apologetic, and his brow scrunched in concern... But his eyes... his eyes are hard.

It sends a tingle down your spine. For once, you actually baited out a man that has nasty intentions with you.

Had he not tried to do that, you would've considered letting him live... But no, of course, he's actually a creep...

What a shame... He's actually kind of cute. In a blue collar sort of way.

It gives you some weird sense of satisfaction, the realization in the back of your mind that you might have succeeded... that you might have bated him out... The Ghost.

Your hand carefully slips into the left side of the waistband of your slinky skirt, the side closest to the door, so he can't see, your fingers already wrapping around the handle of your pistol.

Your eyes remain on the street, the road, keeping an eye out as he returns to the main road and goes back over the area he has just driven past. A closed down shop, the post office...

And you wait.

You wait patiently for the next time he tries to turn right and put you back on course toward the area you had triangulated for The Ghost to live in or work out of...

And he does. He does just that.

Within a minute, he turns right again...

And you don't hesitate.

Your fingers tighten around the pistol handle and you rip it off the confines of your skirt, your arm hurling itself toward him, steadily pressing the barrel to his temple...

Only for you to notice his arm moving sharply at the same time and, you're suddenly staring down the barrel of a gun as well.

His eyes are wide, his brown irises nearly invisible from how wide his pupils are blown and he stops the car suddenly with a hard brake that jostles you both forward.

Looking each other in the eye, over the top of both your pistols, you can't help but feel a rush of adrenaline through your veins.

The look of surprise, confusion and pure dread painted in his features, the way his brows knit together and furrow in displeasure, his lips already twisted into a scowl...

It's a sickly sweet pleasure, to spot the way that, just like the other ones, he's scared of your pistol... It's likely his first time... But an unfamiliar warmth forms in your tummy as you stare down his pistol too... It's also your first time...

"Well, well, well... Would you look at that?" You quip as a smirk takes over your lips. "Looks like I've busted myself a Ghost."

You don't miss the way his brows go from concerned and fearful to dropping low onto his eyelids, and his jaw clenches in disgust.

Got him.

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disturbedbeautywrites · 6 months

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Too close to home - Tyler Owens Imagine

A/N: Alright babes, so here she is. Hope you guys like it. This is based off an actual tornado I experienced last year (Gotta love tornado alley).

Spring. It was your favorite season and also your least favorite season at the same time. It was the time of year when they flowers started to bloom, it started to warm up, and everyone seemed happier. However, it was also the time of year when tornadoes were the most prevalent. Living in tornado alley meant you were well versed in the forces of nature. They were big. They were mean. They didn’t care what was in their way. Ever since you were a kid, they scared you. You knew the signs and you watched out for them when they came.

It was the dark clouds. It was the smell of rain in the air. It was the cool air and the warm breeze mixing together to bring a perfect mix of chaos. It absolutely terrified you; especially since you worked at a news station and saw what happened when you covered storm damage.

Now, your boyfriend, was a whole other story. You were dating the tornado wrangler himself, Tyler Owens, and the two of you could not be anymore different in your opinions on the monstrous forces of nature. He thought they were beautiful and wanted to chase after them. You thought they were horrible and wanted to stay far away. But, each and every spring you let him chase his passion as long as he promised to keep himself safe and always come back home. He promised and had yet to break it.

It was your two year anniversary and the two of you were cuddled up in bed watching a movie. There was a tornado warning in the area, but Tyler had been watching the tornado tracker on his phone and he felt like there was next to no chance that the ones on the ground would come anywhere near your shared home. Most nights, he would be out chasing the storm with his crew, but he had agreed to stay home with you tonight to spend time with you to celebrate your anniversary.

Your head was on his chest and his fingers were combing through your hair, both your eyes locked on the TV. Outside, the storm was starting to pick up. The thunder was starting to get louder and the rain was starting to pound on the window harder; hail starting to mix in with it. Your eyes widened at the sound, but Tyler didn’t seem to even blink twice, his hand moving down to soothe down your spine. Of course, leave it to the tornado chaser to not even blink at a severe storm. You wished you shared his bravery, but you definitely did not. As the storm started to progress he picked up his phone to check the weather and the tornado tracker, still seeing that there was nothing coming towards you guys and you were safe to not take shelter.

But, as you were sitting there you could start to hear a train in the distance sound like it was passing through and you felt confusion start to cloud your mind. You didn’t remember any train tracks near your house.. But, it definitely sounded like there was a freight train passing by. You looked at Tyler just as his phone rang, one of the guys he chased with calling him.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and went to standup, answering the call. He pulled the blinds back and revealed a severely dark sky outside your window before he looked at you, eyes wide. The train was getting louder and louder. “Yeah. Ya’ll stay safe.” Just as he was going to hang up the phone, the entire house went dark as the power went out. In the dark and the silence of the house you could barely make him out walking swiftly towards you. He was normally calm about everything so the swift way he was moving made a sense of dread settle through your bones and into your stomach. You had never seen him like this and you had watched him race towards tornadoes hundreds of times by now without even seeming to be phased. But, whatever was happening right now had him rattled.

“We have to get to cover now.” That was all he said as he reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together as he pulled you towards the back door of your shared home. You had never once heard him warn you to take shelter, so something really bad must be happening. The two of you made your way outside and everything was super dark. Rain was pelting down from the sky in massive drops as it mixed with hail. The wind was whipping around you and Tyler held your hand tight as the two of you made your way towards the door that was propped up outside of the ground. He started to open it, turning around to see a massive funnel cloud making its way right towards your house.

You felt your blood run cold as it started to descend down towards the ground and you heard him urging you to hurry, reaching out to grab your wrist. He was yelling something but you couldn’t hear him over the wind, you just could make out the sound of him yelling but the words were incomprehensible. You felt a tug on your wrist as he ushered you inside, standing to take in the beauty of the descending tornado as it tore down on your neighborhood quickly.

“Ty!” You yelled out for him as you made your way down the stairs, the chaos of everything making you feel more panicked than you already were. But, the look on his eyes said everything. The passion. The dedication. “She’s damn perfect.” You could tell he was either saying the words or mouthing them, but the wind was taking possession of his voice. You knew he was wishing he was chasing this storm. However, that would’ve meant you would be dealing with this alone. You had never been in a storm like this before and now you were about to be in the eye of a tornado.

He finally snapped out of his trance and made his way down into the cellar with you. He slammed the door shut behind him, locking it into place with the deadbolt as you turned on the flashlight on your phone.

Luckily when you had moved in you had stocked the storm shelter with some food and water and a bag of clothes for each of you if you guys would end up needing it. But, you hoped and prayed you wouldn’t. You turned on the lantern the two of you kept down there as you grabbed one of the few blankets you had down there and you tried to make yourself comfortable, hearing the wind howl outside through the door.

“C’mere.” The southern drawl was the first thing you heard your boyfriend say since the two of you had left the house. He had his arm out for you as he turned his phone on to the weather channel, pulling up the radar as the weatherman went on and on about the tornado that was now knocking on your front door.

Your heart was racing and you felt like you couldn’t breathe as you slid in close to his side, covering both of your laps with the blanket as you tried not to think about what could potentially be happening a couple of feet above you. Would it take the house? Would it take your trucks? The barn? You didn’t want to think about it and you hid your face in his arm as he slid a hand under your shirt, rubbing soft circles into your skin with his thumb. “Itll be alright, darlin’.” You knew it would be, but the anxiety was still running rampant through you as well as guilt for him staying home with you tonight.

“I’m sorry you’re here and not out there right now.” Your voice felt too quiet for the situation, but you let it stay like that. Ever since you had started dating, you had never made him miss a storm. You had always told him to go. Told him to just be safe and keep you updated. Every single time he did. But, tonight he had insisted and now it was eating at you.

You felt his eyes look down at you as he sat his phone down, now using his free hand to tilt your chin to look up at him. “I would rather be here with you. If I was chasing that storm, I would be trying to outrun it to get home to you,” He kept his eyes locked on yours as the words left his lips, the normally cocky smile he wore replaced by a small, genuine one. He started to stroke your cheek with his thumb, leaning down to capture your lips to seal the words in. “There will be other storms. But there’s only one you. I’m glad I was here to keep you safe.” The words were barely a whisper as he leaned his forehead against yours, a smile forming on your lips as you kissed him again.

There might be damage done by the storm and you would probably be cleaning up debris for a couple of months, if not longer. But, you had Tyler and he had you and both of you were safe. That was all that mattered as you cuddled up to him in the storm shelter and waited for the all clear, updates coming in from his guys as they chased the storm that came just a little too close to home this time.

Tag list: @mamachasesmayhem @paigewinchester67

#Tyler Owens imagine #Tyler Owens imagines #Glen Powell imagines #Glen Powell imagine #twisters imagine #Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens one shot #Tyler Owens fanfiction #Glen Powell fanfiction #Glen Powell fanfic #twisters imagines #twisters one shot #twisters #twisters 2024

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batsvnte · 9 months

Text

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 — You could only stifle a small fit of laughter as you read the text on your screen. In front of you was another one of the small cats that were roaming about this section of the space station. After the hell you went through to get here, it was an temporary safe spot before you had to leave it for the time being. An large room filled with different kinds of creatures that would be lounging around the place, making small talk with one another or sleeping. You lowered the phone to see another cat that was very different from the rest.

This one in particular that you found that was growing an attachment towards you. This time, it’s fur was an a dark grey like a cloudy sky before it turns into rain. The eyes were full of life unlike the other one, and it had an red mark under its right eye. There was also a bit of an constellation on its tail that you were still trying to identity.

The little one stays somewhere in your vicinity. Not to far but not to close. It likes to feel your presence no matter what you were doing, and on some occasions you would always find it waiting outside the door patiently sitting there for you. It was adorable, you would think as it trails after you. Whenever you turn your attention over to check on how it was doing, it always had its eyes on you. Shimmering lightly as those big eyes stared up at you wondering what you were gonna do next. Having ideas of going to the archives to record things that either of you found.

A small flicker of movement caught your attention one day as you were down in the research section. Bringing your attention over to find Sesame (the ‘dead inside’ cat that you showed to March when you were wandering about the space station that she proudly named) peeking around the corner. It was a routine at this point. Sesame would stare you down from across the hallway/room, then it would make its way over to you to practically cling to your side and follow you around.

Hence why you would have to keep a close eye on Sesame and Rice Dumpling whenever they are around each other. You could tell they were trying to be on their best behavior with you around, but you could hear the small bits of bickering between the two of them. It wasn’t all too serious at best. It was small things but you paid attention to what they were saying.

“Move… I wanna sleep there”

“You ate all of the food..”

“There’s three of us.. move over..”

And now here you were standing in front of Sesame who placed itself onto an high counter. There was no change in those eyes of the little critter, but by its body language you could tell that it wanted to be in your arms.

“You have to be nicer to the other critters, especially Rice Dumpling”

It only stares at you. No movement, no sound. Like your words were just background noise for it to listen to mindlessly. You still kept talking, hoping to get Sesame to make sense of what it was doing. After all it was chasing down Rice Dumpling during the middle of an task and almost trapped it in a corner.

To much of your surprise, a critter jumps up to the edge of the counter. Words coming to an complete stop as you looked towards the new critter that lazily stretched it limbs. It was bigger than the rest, even as big as Sesame. Though it’s pure white fluffy fur would make it seem like Sesame was a baby compared to it. A red ribbon that was tied into an little bow was on the near end of its tail.

“Hi there! Where’d you come from?”

You reached out to the critter, which in response presses its head against the palm of your hand. Eager to let you pet it and give it attention. The moment didn’t last as long as either of you hoped. It an few quick seconds, Sesame nudged against the fluffy critter before fully pushing it off the counter.

“Oh my god Sesame!”

Sesame didn’t bother to check on the critter it just pushed off. It only looks to you before now jumping down from the counter and taking its leave as if it didn’t try to commit an voluntary crime.

#— ghouul frights #hsr blade #hsr dan heng #hsr jing yuan #I’m too far into this to back out now #blade x reader #jing yuan x reader #Dan heng x reader #it’s kinda an x reader idk what else to tag this as #i sped ran the event to get the critters LMAO

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weixuldo · 10 months

Text

Like a Drug

Toxic!Anakin x Reader

a/n: hihihi, this one is a pretty long one shot ahh sorry! its based on this ask from @hanasnx ! (Though I did change the promp a little) I just wanted to also update that It is officially finals week- so I'll be slower than i alr am SORRY!! but i have been working on the next xhapters of allow me and enigma when i get breaks!! I hope u enjoy! ALSO! Please don't stay w someone if they act the way anakin does in this fic- this is purely a scenario for fictional purposes, never let anyone do anything he does, to you.

Anakin has a very peculiar way of showing his love; well you call it love other people call it an unhealthy obsession... you finally realize how fucked up the situation is and leave- but the real question is how long can you stay away?

warnings: cursing, toxic bf ani, smex, cumplay, agressive behavior, mention of blood, fights, alluded sexual harassment, anakin is obsessive and posessive. (he's does some fucked up shit)

_____________________

“Get up” Anakin’s stern voice rang as he gripped your upper arm.

You jumped at the unexpected contact- why was Anakin here?

“Ani! You scared m-” you started to laugh before he tightened his grip.

“Now.” he growled.

You looked back at your friends sitting across the table from you; their eyes were wide. Before you could say anything, Anakin started to pull you up.

“Let go of her!” one of your friends demanded.

He snapped his head towards her and only loosened his grip on you to stomp to the other side of the table. His tall frame towered as he glared daggers at her.

“The fuck did you just say?” he spat.

She went pale and looked down at her lap.

“That’s what I thought. Anyone else have any smart comments?” he huffed, before promptly pulling you out of the restaurant.

Before you made it all the way out the door you mouthed an “its ok” to your friends before following your boyfriend outside.

“Anakin, what the fuck?” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air.

He continued towards his sleek black camaro (he loved to drive through the city at night, music blaring and his hand on his property, your thigh).

“Don’t fucking ignore me Anakin!” you shouted, gaining the attention of an older couple who were heading inside the restaurant.

Your cheeks burned as you caught their stares, but honestly you were used to this shit, it wasn’t the first time you and Ani had made a scene in public. Anakin always did this- he would get pissy over some irrelevant thing and you would get into an argument.

He stopped and turned with such anger.

“You really wanna know? You shouldnt have to fuckin’ ask why I’m upset! If you ever thought of anyone but yourself you’d see how fucked up it is of you to get dinner with those bitches who want to break us up” he screamed; his beautiful blue eyes dark with rage.

You knew Anakin hated your friends. And you knew they hated him.

“You know they don’t like me and always try to get you to leave- Meanwhile those sluts cant keep their legs shut; they’re probably just jealous cause I’m the only guy who gets to fuck you and they have to find a new one every night!” he spat.

Most of your friends were in stable relationships, but of course Anakin didn’t bother to remember that.

“How am I selfish Anakin? I just wanted to grab dinner with the girls and you didn’t even come up. I told them not to bring you up after the last fight” you sighed, exhausted from Anakin's irrational moods.

His sculpted jaw clenched and his right eye twitched.

“It's the fact that you still even allow their company, it’s disrespectful.”

You shook your head and huffed in disbelief.

“Anakin, you are absolutely unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable… Do you even hear yourself right now?!” you screamed.

“And not that it should even fucking matter, but how did you even know I was with them?”

“I have your location- you know that” he stated as if you asked if the sky was blue.

“I know that, but how about them?”

He knew where they were because he made several alternative snapchat accounts and pretended to be someone from school who was just looking for new friends.

He spent nights pretending to be an excited freshman who was wondering where the science building was. He used remix to send your friends snaps that made it look like he was on campus or hanging out downtown with other students. And eventually he gained their trust enough for them to turn on their snap map for him so he could “make sure they were safe” if they went somewhere, since it's “dangerous for us college girls down here”.

“Intuition.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “No way, you probably chipped their phones or some psycho shit cause you’re fucking crazy Anakin!”

“Well if you just goddamn did what I told you we wouldn’t have to have these conversations or be in these situations” he replied dryly.

“How many fucking “rules” are there for me to follow?! Everytime I go out or do anything, you find something to nit pick! It's exhausting! I don’t even know why I’m still with you?!”

“Get in the car.” he demanded.

“You’re insane if you think-”

His whole demeanor shifted and he sighed, “baby, please… I’m sorry, let’s talk about this”.

“No, Anakin- i’m done with your bullshit” you said, heading back towards the building.

He felt his scarred eye twitch, but he needed to subdue his temper (just until he could take it out on your pretty pussy).

See, Anakin Skywalker was a master manipulator. He knew that no matter how much you fought or how insane he acted- you would always come back.

This was clockwork for him. You’d fight, he’d act vulnerable, you would fuck, and then you’d be good for a while. A perfect system. Never failed.

He called your name with a desperate plea- he had no problem acting needy if it got him to where he needed to be, plus this gave you the illusion of having power in this familiar situation.

You hesitantly turned around to meets his gaze; his beautiful blue eyes glassy with his brilliant manipulation.

“Baby, I’m sorry- I just worry about you..” he spoke softly as you subconsciously came closer.

Soon his strong arms were wrapped around your waist and his scent flooded your senses.

“You know I can't control my feelings sometimes- I just love you too much- I can’t lose you too…” he whispered into your hair.

You knew exactly what he was referring to with the “too”- his mother. He was very close with her, growing up she was all he had. A few years back she passed away and it took a big toll on your lover.

You never wanted to admit it, but you knew he used that to guilt trip you into staying or to get you to feel bad for him.

You hated him.

But you couldn’t stop…

You held him tighter and grabbed his shirt fabric, “I know Ani… I know”.

You were now crying too- You knew this was unhealthy- toxic even; but you just couldn’t quit him.

You felt his strong arms lift you up and he carried you towards his camaro; you knew what came next… He’d comfort you, fuck you, then you would act as if no argument ever happened.

A cycle you had gotten all too familiar with.

__________________________________

“F-fuck” Anakin stuttered as he slammed his cock into you; intensive sounds of your bodies colliding, ricochet off the bedroom walls.

“You feel s-so good Baby- doin’ so good for me” he praised as he thrusted in and out of your plush walls. You were lying on your back as he held one of your legs over his shoulder so he could hit even deeper.

The glorious feeling of his calloused hands along your smooth stomach made you shiver. When you first started dating Anakin he told you that he would please you so well that no other men would be able to compare.

he was right…

No man could navigate your body the way he does, read your tells like he could, no man could make you cum as well as Anakin could.

He slowed his hips for a moment making you whine at the lack of movement from his thick cock.

“Look at me baby”.

You blinked your doe eyes open, tears falling from the corners. He observed your features before his eyes softened.

“My girl, my pretty girl… always so lovely” she smiled before tenderly kissing you.

“I love you more than anything” he whispered against your plump lips.

This.

Moments like this were why you stayed: he could be kind- he was sweet- he did care.

You were about to reciprocate his statement but were cut off by his hand tightly gripping around your throat as he continued snapping his hips into yours.

You squealed with each powerful thrust- it was ok, you’d tell him later.

His swollen member was blushing red and as hard as could be. He absolutely adored having you below him, taking his dick like a champ- he remembered how proud he was when you were finally able to take all of him.

A particularly hefty thrust sent his neurons firing and he knew he was almost at his end. He sloppily bucked his hips into your pelvis as his breathing became more erratic.

“I’m gonna cum- w-where do you want it sweet girl?” he half stuttered, half moaned.

You patted your chest and gave Anakin a knowing look.

With that he was gone, his brows knitted together in ecstasy and his hips lurched forward. A string of obscenities left his mouth as he quickly slid his dick out of you to aim for your chest.

Barely one pump in, his warm seed coated your chest. You watched as his abs and thighs contracted with each wave of pleasure. Some of his damp curls stuck to his forehead, he had a sheen of sweat, and his cheeks were flushed.

What a beautiful sight.

_________________________________________

Anakin’s fingers tucked some wild strands of hair behind your ear as you slept peacefully beside him.

Last night cut it a little closer than he normally would have, but it all worked out because here you were, still with him- fast asleep in his bed.

He grabbed your phone and began to go through your messages (an unhealthy habit he picked up a few months back), his fingers immediately moved to the new notifications from your friends.

He opened the pinned group chat and read the messages from last night.

Where r u? Where’d he take u?

Are you alright?

WTF was that?!

Anakin rolled his eyes; your friends were always so dramatic. But he smiled when he saw your response.

“Guys i'm good, ani took me home and we talked things out- he’s just been really stressed out lately, it's nothing to worry about!”

You were his good girl and he’d spoil you today for your loyalty.

He continued to scroll passively until he got to the newer unread messages.

y/n, can we all please talk when you get back- we’re worried about you

Yea, anakin doesn’t seem like he has the best intentions

We hate to see you in this situation

Babe, he’s toxic- u need to dump him

“...u need to dump him”

Anakin almost threw the phone across the room- no way these bitches were telling you to dump him?!

He was the only one who took care of you, he was the only one who knew what was best for you- who did these girls think they were?!

Before he could stop himself he took out his own phone and copied all of their numbers down so he could send several nasty message to the girls basically telling them to back the fuck off and being unnecessarily hateful.

After he blocked their numbers, he decided it was time for a shower, so he left you with a kiss and headed to the bathroom.

The emptiness of the bed made you wake. For a moment, you began to search for Anakin but the shower in the other room indicated where he was.

You smiled and cuddled further into his sheets. The warmth of the blankets began to pull you back into slumber but your phone interrupted the notion.

It was one of the girls you had gotten dinner with last night, what would she be calling this early for?

“Hello?”

y/n, I’m sorry but you need to come back now, I don’t think it's the best idea for you to be with anakin-

“Wait, slow down… why?”

She sent you screenshots of the messages he sent and you almost dropped your phone.

“What the fuck?! Anakin sent this?”

Yes, this morning- I really think you should get out of that relationship y/n- I’ve been telling you this! He’s trying to make you dependent on only him- it's not healthy!

You took a moment to regain your thoughts and quickly said a goodbye when you heard the water stop running.

Why would he be so cruel? You knew he had his issues but he’d never been so explicitly viscous before. Maybe your friends were right, you had been manipulated so much that you were defending his toxic behavior. This had to stop.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to face him for long (he would just pull you back in). So you quickly began to gather your things so that it would be easier to leave after you talked with him.

You almost had everything packed when the doorknob turned to reveal a fresh Anakin; his hair was still damp from the shower and his skin had a glistening shine from the residual steam. He had such a big smile… you hated this, but it needed to be done.

“What’s going on princess?” he frowned when he saw your bag was already packed.

“Anakin… I have to go” you said hurriedly.

He moved in front of you and held up a hand, “Woah, can we talk about what’s going on? Why are you leaving in such a hurry?” he asked (genuinely worried).

With a sigh, you looked him in the eye, “Anakin- we can’t keep doing this- we aren’t good for eachother”.

He felt his chest tighten.

“Was it your friends? Did they put those thoughts in your head?! I told you they weren’t-”

“Anakin! Please, enough! I saw what you said to them- Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not acting like the man I fell in love with… You’ve changed so much” you said with watery eyes.

For a moment he looked as if he were going to punch something but eventually he let out a breath and defeatedly stood to the side. Your words seemed to really hit him.

“Angel, I do what I do because I love you- you know that. I know I’m messed up- but I’ve been working on it, Truly” he promised.

Tears fell as you shook your head, “I know Ani, but it's not fair to me- I can’t keep doing this! We always end up fighting and you always get upset”

“I DON'T!” Anakin unintentionally shouted, making you shrink away from him.

“This is what I'm talking about Ani, I don’t wanna do this- no, i’m not doing this anymore. I’m leaving” you said, grabbing your things and heading for the door.

He called your name but you ignored him, you almost got to his front door when he grabbed your upper arm.

“Let go!” you shouted, snatching your arm from his hold.

“Please, just leave me alone” you cried as you walked out of the house and headed for the uber you sneakily called while he was still in the shower.

As the uber drove away, you saw a confused and hurt Anakin standing in his driveway.

You put your head in your hands and cried…

It needed to be done.

It had to.

_________________________________________

A few months later

The early autumn air nipped at your skin as you haistilly exited the rowdy club. You shivered and crossed your arms after checking the time.

10:34 pm

You had only gotten to the damn club 30 minutes ago and you already wanted to leave. You and some friends had gone out to reward yourselves for a hard week (and to hopefully get your mind off of your ex).

Some guy in the club had gotten a little too handsy fior your comfort- he attempted to put his hand up your dress and grope your breasts while you were just leaning over the bar to order another drink. You slapped him across the face and made your way outside to get some air.

You wanted to leave; as you stood by the curb you felt the familiar sting of tears pricking at your eyes.

Fuck.

The sensation of alcohol warmed your tummy and clouded your thoughts. Warm, strong hands protecting you from any other man who dared to look at you. Fierce blue eyes warding off any unwanted attention-

No.

You physically shook your head and opened your phone to distract yourself. There was no fucking way you were thinking about him right now. You scrolled to your uber app and looked up rates for a ride back to your apartment.

$40, $35, $47, $32, $43

The rates were through the roof, no way you were going to pay that just to get a few blocks home.

Almost instinctively, your hands moved so that your thumb was shivering over Anakin’s number.

What were you doing?!

You were about to swipe off when you realized: you weren’t willing to take an expensive uber, but you also didn’t want to walk that far in heels and at night. Maybe you should call him… at least you know him and he does owe you a favor anyways.

Fuck it.

You unblock and dial his number.

Ring…

Ring…….

Ring………..

Voicemail.

You groaned. You knew very well what he was doing- he was making you call several times so that you would look desperate. He loved doing that shit. You dialed again.

Ring…

Rin-

“Hey sweet thing, finally came to your senses?” he said, smugness dripping off his every word.

“Anakin- please come pick me up” you sniffed.

“And why would I do that? Why would I do you a favor after you’ve been such a bra-”

“Ani- someone tried to touch me- I wanna go home” you cried.

The other end of the phone went silent. Anakin’s eye began to twitch and his grip on the phone tightened.

“Where?” he gritted out.

“What? I’m on fourth street, over by the old mill-”

“Where did he touch you?” he interrupted.

You took a breath- maybe you shouldn’t have called Anakin, you knew he was going to cause a scene- but at the same time a dark part of you wanted him to become violent with his passion for you.

“He put his hand up my skirt and started groping my breas-”

“I’m on my way” is all he said before finally adding-

“That fucker is dead.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, Ani was coming.

___________

Anakin’s knuckles were a fiery red as he dealt several blows to the man who had dared to touch his girl. His vision clouded by rage and hatred; how dare someone try to touch what was his.

Sure, you were broken up (or so you thought); but anakin saw it as just a small break- You were getting back together- he knew it.

All he was waiting on was your call.

Once he was satisfied, he stood up and shook the blood off of his hand. He looked over his work; the man’s face wa bloodied and his lip was cracked (there was also possibly a tooth missing but Anakin didn’t really give a fuck).

He leaned over and spat, “Don’t ever touch someone who isn’t yours again”.

He made his way through the crowd of stunned onlookers who all began to back away from him as he headed towards the bathroom. Once he got there, everyone stepped out and allowed him to walk in with no hesitation (They didn’t want to get on his bad side in any shape or form).

He leaned on the sink and examined the cut on his cheekbone.

Whatever.

He turned on the faucet and washed the blood from his hands; no need for his beautiful girl to see the blood of a fucking perv.

He dried his hands and exited the building to collect you from outside the building.

You stood there, arms crossed, his jacket draped over your shoulders: his Angel.

“Hey, sweetheart” he called in a soft voice as he put his arm around you.

You looked at him with big eyes.

“Are you alright?” He kissed your forehead.

You nodded and hugged him closer to you.

“It's all taken care of, let's get you home”

______

“I knew you’d come back” he broke the silence in the car (well, the radio was on- but you hadn’t spoken since he left the club).

“Anakin, can we please not talk about this right now? '' you said quietly.

He glanced at you and put a tender hand on your thigh.

“Angel, these past few weeks without you have been hell… I’m sorry for how I acted- I love you”.

You knew this was just another way he was trying to manipulate you- he definitely don’t attempt to better himself, but you couldn’t help but indulge him- after all… you missed him too. You placed one of your hands on top of his and met his eye.

“Ani- will you take me to your’s?” you asked shyly, as if you hadn’t spent countless nights in his bed.

He smiled and rubbed his hand along your leg, “Of course darling”.

“Maybe I can help relieve some of your stress too,” he added with a deeper tone.

You mentally sighed- of course he wanted that; but you also wouldn’t mind having him near you again, so you politely nodded with a smile.

He squeezed your thigh, “That’s my girl, I knew you couldn’t quit me that easy”

You turned your head to look out the window at the bright city once more… He was right- you just couldn’t quit him.

***

Once again anakin is completely fucked up in this fic- pls dont romantiscice this behavior in real life... other than that- I hope you enjoyed the fic lmfaooo. I haven't really written ani as an actually problamatic character before, its mostly just like rude or grumpy ani lmfao. but ty for stopping by!!

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trashmouth-richie · 8 months

Text

𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞

love sick! eddie x fem reader

eddie comes to your house in the middle of a rainstorm begging for something you can’t give him

hurt no comfort, reader is kinda a fuck girl in this situation, eddie is sweet, smut 18+ only mdni

Rain pattered loud against the windows, thunder clapped and rumbled in before the lightning rode behind and brightened the midnight sky. His hair was sopping wet, dark waves drenched to silky ropes. You didn’t know how long he was knocking before the repetitive noise had woken you.

He was soaked.

Soggy Reeboks squished against the doormat as he chattered his teeth unwillingly through the threshold of your front door.

Water pooled around his feet as you counted the slow drops of rain falling from his fingertips onto the carpet. A steady rhythm— anything to keep your eyes from seeing the hurt etched into his face.

A fling was all this was supposed to be. Nothing serious. No feelings. You kept your side of the bargain but Eddie fell for you before he could stop himself. He thought if he kept his feelings hidden you wouldn’t catch onto them, or maybe he silently hoped you also had feelings for him.

It wasn’t until he noticed your car parked outside of Steve Harrington’s house, on the way to work one morning. Dew slicking your windows, that he realized you had been there since night, having spent the evening tucked into a king bed with Steve, of all people.

He ignored his aching heart, shook away the hurt. The smile he put on when you stopped by his work to have a quickie in the bathroom, was practically believable, award winning.

Your car showed up in other driveways, and he wondered if you’d always been there— under his nose, or if this was new for you.

Eddie wanted you all to himself. But that was not part of what this was. Months went by and he never once turned down your midnight calls. He ignored hickies that weren’t from him, earrings with initials that weren’t his or yours. He wouldn’t dare lose you because he couldn’t handle how he felt. But one night he messed up.

The night was like any other, he was buried inside of you, as you rode him in the tub. Soapy water was splashed all over the floor, his tattoos looked alive beneath the shimmery smears of body wash. As your tits bounced in his face, your fingers were curled tight at the back of his neck, wringing the wet from his curls.

And it slipped.

You felt so good, your perfect body full in his hands, delicious curves and smooth skin he could never get enough. He’d never forget the tangy lick of cherry on your lips, the way your eyes closed as you came.

Three words fell like a prayer from his lips, a spewed string of murmurs that stung his eyes from relief, finally letting it out. And as he came you stopped cold.

And that was it.

It had been a month. Arguably the worst month of Eddie Munson’s life.

A month spent drunk and high, only to find out that the demons couldn’t be deceived. The reality of you telling him it was over hit him over and over again. Your face, the tears you wouldn’t allow yourself to fall, blinded his dreams, tortured his sober hours. He was a wreck.

Arms crossed tight, socked toes working into the carpet you haven’t stopped staring at the water running from his rings.

“Eddie… what are you doing in the rain?”

He couldn’t tell you that he walked here from The Hideout. That he just needed to see your face.

“Are you drunk?” You reach for the keys on the little hook shelf he had put up for you after it sat in a plastic bag on your table for weeks. He teased you about knowing your way around a screw driver, put the wall stud meter on himself and told you it was broken when it didn’t beep.

He didn’t say anything and you sighed clutching the keys in your palm and reaching for a jacket, “c’mon, let me drive you home.”

He held your arm before it could grip the cotton of your jacket, bringing it down to your side.

“Please..�� he begged, a cold hand moved to your cheek and you finally looked at him. Almost taken aback by the purple circles of agony coloring his under eyes, his skin was sickly ghost-white and pale, “I wanted to see you.”

You breathed his name as his fingers curled around your jaw, sighing, closing your eyes, “I can’t… I can’t be what you need.”

Love wasn’t for you. It never had been, and he understood that… until he didn’t, until he told you he loved you, until he swore you felt the same. But you didn’t, you couldn’t.

He felt insane coming here. The guys tried to stop him but he wouldn’t listen.

“I know, I just…” what he wanted was you, wanted to feel your body pressed to his, wanted to taste your lips as you desperately unzipped his pants— giggling in the empty hallway to his bedroom.

He wanted to hear your pretty sighs as he nipped at your thighs, feel your knees buckle when his fingers pushed past your warm slick lips under your skirt.

“..didn’t get to— I know you can’t change how you feel but..”

“Eddie…”

“…lie to me.”

You’re stunned, staring back at him at his wild eyes filled with so much hurt you could feel it in your soul. “I… don’t understand.”

He wets his lips then, and you can taste the bated breath on them, the intoxicating essence that Eddie always filled you with, and you yearn for more.

He’s so close to you now, pressing your back firmly against the shut door. his wet hair beading onto the thin strap of your tank top.

“Please sweetheart,” he whispers, moving the strap down your arm, “.. lie to me, tell me you love me.”

You hang your head, murmuring out a plea that’s formed with hot staticky lust and pain, “I don’t want to hurt you Eds.”

A finger hooks under your chin bringing you back up to him and he smiles with tears in his eyes, “you won’t baby, you never could.”

You say it and his lips find yours in a heated squish of flesh and teeth. The gasping breath echoing along the walls as Eddie hooks his arms beneath your knees and carries you tight against his chest to your room.

Your arms untangle the leather jacket from his shoulders, and when he sets you down like a dainty flower on your mattress he finishes the hasty job of wrestling his arms out from the destroyed fabric and it slaps to the ground.

Clothes are everywhere, yours dry and his completely soaked, he shivers in his nakedness, skin bitter cold to the touch. He seethes when your warm hands pull him down to you, your body practically a furnace against his.

His mouth is hot against the column of your throat, sliding his tongue around the silk of your skin. His hips roll into your body when he smells your shampoo, fuck he’s missed you.

You’ve missed him. Nobody in Hawkins could compare to the way Eddie made you feel.

He intertwined your fingers like lover’s would and you let him. Easy to pretend that you were both on the same page of feelings, everything with Eddie came easy. He’s murmuring nonsense into your neck, tongue swirling, teeth biting, marking you up the last time.

He wanted to be yours. Wanted you to want to be his. But he had to let you go, and tonight he would spend as much time as he could bringing you over the edge of the peaceful shattering of pleasure.

He moves down your body kissing between the valley of your tits, lapping up your honey sweet nipples like they were made of nectar. Never getting enough.

Your pitiful moans dance like dandelions around your room and he nearly cums on your blanket when you pant his name as his tongue licks up your cunt.

He’d missed your taste, the way he’d fuck you stupid and hours later he could still taste you on his lips. You wrap your thighs around his head like he knew you would.

A peek up your body and your fingers were fisting the comforter, and he smirked into your clit.

Whoever you were fucking now must not be doing it right because you had come fast on his tongue not once, but twice, and his heart swelled with pride.

When he climbed back up the bed, your eyes were shut and you looked drunk, ragged breathing making your heart skip beats.

He lays beside you, kissing your bare shoulder, working a path to your cheek, waiting patiently for your strength to come back, whispering how he’s missed you, how beautiful you are, and you hold back tears.

You said it again when he stretched you open, gasping and crying out from his size, “..fuck, so so so big.”

He chuckled into your neck, pistoning his hips with a jerk causing you to moan, “don’t want you to forget about me pretty girl.”

Your reply is snuffed out into his neck, slurred out with moans and murmurs of his name. He fucked you hard then slow, a lazy rhythm with his forehead resting on yours, collecting your lips with his whenever he could, swallowing each others groans.

He’s close, and so are you. You can feel his arms beginning to shake, and his breathing picks up in racing tandem with yours. “where’d you want me?”

Your eyes are rolled back and you’re arching your back from the bed, babbling a plea of how you don’t care where, and your orgasm snaps.

Eyes pinched and huffing you both come at the same time, tangled in sweaty sheets and frizzy hair. It’s pure bliss, no matter how ignorant you may both be in the moment.

—

Hours pass. Eddie’s light snores keep you company with the hum from the dryer filled with his clothes. Your fingers slide through his curls, working knots out with your fingernails as he lays heavy on your chest. His lips are red from the night, maybe a bit swollen.

Pushing back his bangs you get a good look at his features. The bulby nose, the silver scar on his forehead that you never thought to ask where it came from. The thick sweep of black lashes contrasting to his porcelain skin. He was beautiful.

And you were a liar.

Saying it a third time tonight, you say the three word lie Eddie begged you to tell him.

He was fooled, and you’d keep doing it to protect him from you. Because saying you loved Eddie, never was a lie.

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie imagine #eddie blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie x you smut

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tornado1992 · 9 months

Text

Sonic is acting strange.

From the moment he entered the cave at the top of the mountain and going on even after Shadow finished the battle, he was more energetic, talking faster than usual, to his friends’s eyes happier than they had ever seen him before. But deep inside his mind and heart, he felt more melancholic than anything.

Rouge said something about to going visit Shadow, wherever he’d gone, though it’s not probable that Shadow would gift her a powerful gem of inter dimensional proportions, it’s still a possibility. He finds himself comfortable with the idea of either of them guarding it, after all, Shadow would never let it bring chaos to their lives again, and now he knows Rouge it’s a better leader than he could ever be, they both would make the right call.

Sparring with Knuckles was as much of a way to get the stress out of his system as it is a reminder that the guardian isn’t a glory driven danger prone sailor, nor a extremely paranoid jungle survivor, and definitely not a soldier willing to hit an 8 year old if it means saving the world, no, he’s just Knucks. Ready to put him back in his tracks every time he goes off, same old Knucklehead.

Asking Amy to help him bake a cake to celebrate their victory on the mountain took her by surprise, not expecting Sonic to have the consideration or patience to think about and prepare that kind of gift just so their friends would enjoy it together. But what really shook her to the core was how many times he thanked her through the making, in his mind just one of those “thank you” was for the cake, the rest of them were for everything else.

Tails knows Sonic is acting strange.

it wasn’t just the sudden consideration on his words and actions, but also the eagerness to just spend time with them, an insane amount of time in which he paid attention to everyone and everything, he looked to the sea as if it was more of a new racetrack than an obstacle to his speed, he turned his sight to the sky as if he’d forgotten it was blue, and gazed to the palm trees as if he’d never seen one before. But most of it all, between his friends and the rest of the world, Sonic was looking at him.

It wasn’t the normal look he’d give him everyday, being the only one Sonic hadn’t been alone with since the mountain battle was weird enough, they would usually race and joke together after every battle, but not this time; Sonic was actively keeping him at arms length while never getting his eyes off of him, It didn’t matter who was Sonic talking to or what was he doing, if Tails was around, he was looking at him.

Every time he was smiling he would look back to see if he was smiling too, when one of his friends tried to approach him Sonic would instantly get in their way without any more reason than to talk to them, if there was a sudden movement or loud noise Sonic would turn to him as if to expect him to be gone, the calmness in his body being noticeable every time he found him.

It felt wrong, it felt distant, it felt as if he was a problem. He hasn’t felt like this in years.

Hours and hours later when their friends finally got too tired of watching Sonic’s odd behavior they all went their own way for the night, with Rouge just disappearing in the dark, Knuckles claiming he had places to be, and Amy saying the day had drained her and she needed sleep, Sonic and Tails were finally alone.

The walk to Tails’ lab was quick, but quiet. The silence prevailed all the way before they entered the house and closed the door, then it wasn’t quiet anymore.

With the way Sonic practically launched himself over Tails knocking the air out of him as he hugged the kit tightly, both falling to the floor as Sonic held him against his chest with one hand while the other one placed itself securing the fox’s head just below Sonic’s chin. Tails was quiet, way too shocked with the sudden affection after a whole day of being so close while feeling so far away. But Sonic’s sobs and whimpers weren’t quiet at all.

They were loud and broken, not forming any comprehensible words as hiccups broke in every time it seemed like he was actually trying to say something, as if he held back from crying for hours, It felt guilty, sorrowful, and desperate.

Tails found himself breaking his silence and asking repeatedly “what’s wrong?!” as he reciprocated the hug just for Sonic to tighten his arms around him, breaking into fully crying this time, with a sea of tears falling from the speedster’s eyes to the genius’ head, not letting him go even for a second, not loosening his grip after what felt like hours of holding his little brother, who held him back just as tightly.

Even if the tears stopped, their embrace didn’t, with the morning warmth closer than midnight’s coldness the blue hedgehog found himself surrounding the sleepy fox as he fought sleep’s calling to stay with his big brother.

“I love you” was muttered to the boy’s ears as he was claimed by the land of dreams, in which he could fly all day with the shining star he called his brother.

Tails wasn’t sure if that whisper was part of his dream. Sonic knew it wasn’t

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mphoenix-7 · 4 months

Text

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 5: The Cabin: Day 1 (pt.2)

Summary: Soap being gone for so long has you extremely worried. When he finally shows, you have an exchange of words, and Soap learns that you are human after all.

Word Count: 4,000

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, angst, slight panic attack, Soap is still mean?, suggestive language, partial nudity

A/N: I’m ahead in writing by two characters, but expect weekly updates! Let me know how you’re liking it so far! Also comment some possible scenes you might want to see, sometimes I include them! Enjoy ~

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 5

The cabin, which had no electricity, was dark now. The sun was setting over the lake, which was beautiful, but you didn't have it in you to enjoy it right now. All you could was pace in the kitchen, the only light and source of heat coming from the embers in the wood stove from when you made food.

Soap was gone. He'd been gone all day. You didn't know what time it was when he left, but the sun had been high in the sky and now it was setting. Your mine was racing.

What if he had gotten hurt and couldn't get back? What if a bear or something killed him? Were there even bears where you are? What if-

There was a groaning sound as the cabin door opened. You gazed snapped over to the door right as Soap was walking through it. He looked tired, but that was to be expected. You don't know where he went or what he did, but you know he hasn't eaten. Unless he ate some berries or something during his time in the woods, but you doubted it.

A mix of emotions hit you as you look at him. Anger at him for being gone for so long, relief that he was back, and conflicted feelings when you feel your eye start to burn with tears. Truth was, you did care about Soap to some extent, and him not coming back after an hour or two scared the hell out of you.

Despite your current state, and after everything that happened this morning, you wanted to keep your voice calm when speaking to him. You didn't want to yell, start another fight, or add more stress. However, the moment you open your mouth, anger burns in your chest like lit gasoline. Knowing you'll combust if you try to speak, you pause, hoping he'll speak first, and stay in your spot in the middle of the kitchen.

Soap's eyes were down as he walks in, not even acknowledging you. His lips were tightly pursed shut, and his body language was tense. He doesn't even spare you a single glance as he makes his way to the where you'd carefully placed all your food rations.

Taking a deep breath, you try to swallow the anger and address him.

"Where have you been?" Your voice shook the slightest bit, but you managed to keep it fairly steady.

Soap doesn't respond. You hear a faint annoyed sigh from him, but that's it. Your anger is boiling over at this point. You tried to ask nice, tried to be calm, but he was going to give you the silent treatment? Act like nothing had happened and like he hadn't made you worried sick for at least the last four hours?

"Soap, where the hell have you been?!" You were shouting now, and your raised voice finally makes Soap's gaze shift over to you. He looks you over a bit before rolling his eyes, returning to flipping through MREs packets to find a meal he wants.

"Don't fucking ignore me, Soap! You can't just leave and be gone for hours like that!"

"Fuck off, States." He grumbles, continuing his search for food. You stare at his back for a long moment, a bit taken back by his response. He really thought it was fine to go out into the woods for hours? To just leave you alone in the middle of the woods wondering if he was ok? Could he really not see how much distress he'd caused you by being gone? Or did he just not care?

You'd been worried about him.

Your chest tightens a bit, hands clenching into fists at your sides. You hated Soap with every fiber of your being, yet you worried when he was gone. You hated that you felt this way about him. You hated that he made you feel this way and now he was acting like it wasn't a big deal.

"Fuck off, States..."

"Don't tell me to fuck off! What gives you the right to leave like that? I didn't know if you were coming back or not." He just keeps ignoring you, his shoulders tense, and you snap. "John! Fucking turn around and answer me!"

That finally gets his attention. He looks back at you, jaw clenched tightly. "What have I told you about calling me that!?" He shouts at you, but you ignore him.

"Can you just listen to me!? I was worried about you, you stupid fucking idiot!" You shout at him, feeling your breath hitch a bit as a sob boils in your throat. You couldn't stop it. Tears started to run down your cheeks. You tried to brush them away, but they just kept coming.

"I sat here for hours! I didn't know where you were. I went outside, and I looked, and looked for you, and I couldn't find you. I thought you got hurt, or-or killed, or a bear got you, or you-you got lost. I didn't know if you were coming back, and I was scared that you weren't going to, and I didn't know what to do!"

You're sobbing by the end of your outburst, giving up on wiping tears away or keeping the sobs down. The stress of the day had gotten to you, and Soap leaving had been the final thing to make you break down. Now you just stood in front of this man that you hated, feeling scared that he'd died while he was gone, and sobbing uncontrollably into your hands.

Soap stood there frozen as he watches you. He'd never seen you cry before. No matter how bad the fights got, you never cried. Or at least not in front of him. He didn't really know what to do, but you were really upset. You're starting to hyperventilate, and he had to admit, he was getting a little worried.

"States, just calm down, lass." He says in the most gentle voice he's ever used when talking to you. "Stop crying, you're fucking up your breathing." His voice is still gentle, and there's a tinge of worry behind his words as he stays frozen in place.

You try to stop, you really do, cause crying in front of Soap isn't something you like doing, but you can't stop. Now that the wall has been busted down, the water wasn't going to stop until the pressure had been released.

Soap finally moves when you can't seem to stop and turns to one of the shelves behind him to grab a cantina. He unscrews the top and takes your hands, wrapping them around the bottle and then brings it up to your lips. "Here, lass, drink some water. Take some deep breaths for me too, aye?" His hand pressed into your upper back, just steadily remaining there for support.

You do as he says, trying to take a few small sips and wiping at your eyes again. It helps a little, enough to settle you down a bit. You meet Soap's eyes, still sniffling and hiccuping softly. He still had his hand on your back, but he removes it to take the cantina back when you're done.

"I was worried about you..." You repeat, this time in more of a whisper as he puts the bottle back on the shelf.

Soap sighs softly and looks away, down towards the floor. You start to sniffle again, which makes him look at you once more. "Hey now, don't start that again."

"I'm not trying to. I can't help it. I was scared." You defend yourself, breath stuttering slightly.

"Look States, I... I'm sorry. Ok? I didn't mean to make you worry."

You're shocked. Absolutely in pure shock that this man is apologizing to you. He's never apologized to you for anything, and the thing is, he looks genuinely sorry. You stare at him for a long moment, making him uncomfortable.

"Don't look at me like that." He shifts nervously in place, a frown on his features.

You shake your head a bit, snapping yourself out of your state of shock. "Sorry, I've just never... I-I'm glad you're back." You rub your arm nervously. "Please don't.. please don't ever do something like that again."

"I won't." He says simply. "Stop all your crying now, aye? Go wash your face."

Normally you would have snapped at him for telling you what to do, but he's still talking to you softly. Like he's telling you to do something to make you feel better, not just to belittle you. So you nod and make to grab the flashlight to walk out to the pond. Before you get to the door though, he's calling out to you.

"Aye, States. Are you hungry? I'm going to make some food. You want some?"

You look back to him, surprised that he offered. You'd eaten a few hours ago, but you hardly had anything all day. Plus all that worrying you'd done had worked up quite an appetite. "Yeah... That'd be nice." You agree, getting a nod from him as he turns back to picking something from the cabinet.

"Alright. Go wash up. I'll get started." He says, his back to you now. You hesitate a moment more before stepping outside into the cool air.

It's quiet outside, aside from some frogs and an owl. The fresh air feels nice and helps to settle any remaining stress you had. You hear Soap inside, putting more wood onto the fire to get the oven going. It didn't seem real what just happened. You weren't quite sure what to make of any of it.

Sighing softly, trying to push everything that happened today behind you for now, you click on the flashlight and head towards the water. The sun has gone down and the moon is casting a soft light on the water's surface. Once you reach the edge, you scoop some water into your hands and splash it over your face, letting the icy water soothe your puffy cheeks. It feels nice despite the bite it has from the cold. It's just what you need.

Realizing you don't have a towel or anything to dry your face with, you end up just gently patting your face dry with your shirt. You'd be changing for bed soon anyway. You were regretting, however, packing your shorts and an oversized teeshirt to wear as pajamas. They weren't going to be very warm, and despite what you hoped was a new development in your relationship with Soap, you still were not fond of him seeing you in something like that.

The thought of your pajamas made you remember your lack of a bedroll. Maybe you should apologize to Soap for getting so upset with him earlier. It was technically your responsibility to keep track of it, and you doubted Soap would purposely do something like that to you. He was mean, but you didn't think he was that mean. Plus he had just apologized to you. Maybe you should return the favor. Extend the olive branch.

That was going to be hard though...

You sigh softly and get up, heading back into the cabin. Soap managed to get the fire going and now had a pot of what looked to be beans on the stovetop. He'd also laid out two pieces of bread on your plates. You stayed by the door, trying to warm your hands a bit as you watched him stir the pot. After a few seconds, he breaks the silence.

"Feeling better?" He asks, eyes focused on the food he was preparing.

"Yeah." You answer, yelling at yourself to just get the apology out. It was stuck though. Apologizes weren't really your strong suit. Plus making them to someone you had a bad rivalry with made it all that much harder. Instead, you find yourself clearing your throat and changing the topic.

"Uh... So I was thinking maybe we should make a few rules. For both of us to follow." You watch him for his reaction, not sure what you were going to get.

Soap surprisingly nods. "Sure. What were you thinking?" He asks, still not looking at you.

"Well... Maybe rule one should be that we can't go off into the woods alone for more than an hour? Just for safety." You start, which is met with silence. "If we need to go somewhere to cool down, maybe we go to the lake. Or somewhere else close by. I just don't want to have to go looking for you if I need you."

"Sure." Soap finally answers. "I can do that. Anything else?"

You think for a moment, not fully prepared to come up with all the rules by yourself at that very second. "Maybe just small things. Like we can alternate who cooks every night. Let me know before you go bathe. Don't leave dirty clothes or food lying around. Stuff like that." You shrug, watching as steam begins to rise off the pot of beans.

Soap stops stirring them and bangs the spoon on the side of the pan a few times. "That sounds reasonable." He agrees, surprising you by how accepting of this he was. "Come get what you want. I'll eat the rest." He tells you, standing out of the way so you can scoop the beans onto your plate.

You pick up your plate that he'd laid out for you and get your spoon, looking at him before looking down at the beans in the pot. You must have hesitated too long because he's rolling his eyes at you a moment later.

"Come on, I didn't poison them or anything." He grumbles, bits of the old Soap coming back.

"Well, I wasn't thinking that until you said something." You attempt to joke, though you aren't sure if Soap thought it was funny or not. He let out a huff, which might have been a laugh, but you're not sure.

"Just get your beans. I'm starving." He mumbles.

"Yes, sir." You say, getting reminded that he hadn't eaten all day. You didn't want a hangry Soap on your hands.

As you scoop up what you wanted, a very small portion so that he can have more, you hear him actually laugh. It's not a full belly laugh, but he does let out a small, single, chuckle.

"Now that's something I could get used to you saying." He mutters, making you roll your eyes this time. Though for once you aren't really annoyed.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." You tell him, setting your plate on the small table in the kitchen and sitting down.

You wait as he dumps the rest out onto his plate. You fully plan on sitting and eating with him. Sure, it still felt like you were walking on eggshells a bit around him, but this was by far the most civil you'd ever been with him. Once he's done scooping everything out onto his plate though, he's heading towards the bedroom without another word.

"Where are you eating?" You ask him when he walks past the available chair.

"On my cot." He answers, pushing the door open and shutting it behind him without another word.

You feel stupid now thinking that Soap was going to sit and eat with you. You don't know why you'd been expecting him to, but, now that he wasn't, it hurt a little bit...

Things probably hadn't actually changed. He was just being a littler nicer because he saw you cry. You stare down at your food, feeling a lot less hungry now, but you eat anyway. No point in wasting it.

Once your plate had been cleaned off the best you could, you set it on one of the shelves, planning on cleaning it tomorrow morning. You then make your way to the bedroom door and knock softly. You don't get a response, and if you listen really closely, you can hear gentle snores.

Opening the door carefully, you see that Soap had fallen asleep. His plate was on the floor next to his cot, scrapped clean. So much for your rule of keeping a tidy space. But you'd let it pass this time since it had been a long day.

Running a hand over your face, you step inside and pick his plate up, carrying it out to the kitchen. You set it alongside yours on the shelf and then you go back to the bedroom to grab your pajamas. You opted to change in the kitchen, just in case Soap woke up, and did so in record time. He was still asleep though when you came back in. However, the second you sat on your cot, making it squeak loudly, he woke up.

"Ah, that damned bed of yours." He grumbles, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"You were the one who stuck me with this bed." You remind him, making him grumble as he sat up. He places his feet on the floor, looking to the ground.

"Where's my-" he starts, but you already know what he's going to ask about.

"I already put it on the shelf for tomorrow." You tell him.

"Oh. Alright then." He mutters, standing up. He starts to take his shirt off, which had you blushing and raising your brows at him. Then he's taking his pants off, which instantly makes you cover your eyes.

"Oh my God! Don't change in here! I don't want to see you naked!" You yell at him, which has him rolling his eyes at you.

"Oh haud yer wheesht! I'm not getting naked! I sleep in my underwear."

You can hear the sound of his pants being pulled down, and you press your hands more firmly against your eyes. "I don't want to see you in your underwear either!"

"Well I didn't think we'd be sharing a room! I didn't pack pajamas!" He exclaims. "Besides, you're not even wearing pants!"

That made you uncover your eyes, your cheeks burning. "I'm wearing shorts!" You pull your shirt up enough for him to see the shorts you had underneath, and also get an eyeful of Soap in nothing but his underwear. He's in army green boxer briefs, which made his ass and what he was packing in the front look... Not too bad.

"That's practically underwear you're wearing." He claims. "Just think of these as shorts!" He balls his clothes up and tosses them into the suitcase with his clean and still unpacked clothes.

"Those are not shorts! I can see every..."

You trail off, not really wanting to admit that you can see the outline of his dick. You don’t want him to know that you looked. In your defense, it was pretty prominent and obvious feature. You know he isn't even... worked up... yet you can still clearly see it. You didn’t have to stare directly at it to see it.

"Just fucking get into your bed." You say instead, but by the look on Soap's face, he knew exactly what you were going to say.

"No, no, go on. Out with it." He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at you expectantly.

"Soap, I swear!" You're looking straight ahead, holding up your hand to shield your peripheral vision from him.

"If you like something you see, you can just tell me." He continues to egg you on, making you all the more frustrated with him.

"I'm gonna punch you in the thing I see if you don't get it over to your cot!" You threaten, making him finally leave you alone. He holds his hands up in mock surrender as he goes to his cot.

"Alright fine. Just do me a favor and don't squeak that damn cot of yours all night." He grumbles, getting onto his cot and into his sleeping roll. He rolls onto his side, back facing you.

You finally look over at him once he's laying down and then settle onto your own cot. You lay down on your back, staring up the ceiling and feeling thankful for the chilly air as it cools down your reddened cheeks.

Very quickly though, despite the wood furnace next to you, your arms and legs start to get cold. You tuck up into a ball, cot squeaking while you move, but it's not a position you were going to be able to maintain all night. After only five minutes your legs were cramping up, and you wanted to stretch out again, which caused more obnoxious squeaking.

You keep shifting like this, trying to find the best position to keep yourself warm. It doesn't take long for Soap to let out an annoyed groan.

"States, I swear." He grumbles.

"Sorry, I'm cold." You grumble right back, tucking your legs back up again.

It's silent for a little bit as you try to keep from moving around. You're shivering just slightly, but it wasn't a violent shiver by any means. Sleep was going to be difficult though. You sigh softly, your exhale a little shaky.

"Fucking hell." You hear Soap curse, followed by the sounds of him rustling around.

You'd been lying with your back to him, so you look over your shoulder as he gets up. It was hard to see exactly what he was doing. Despite his bed only being a few feet away from yours, it was dark over in his little corner, and his back was to you. The distinct sound of him unzipping his sleeping roll can be heard though.

"Here." He says after a moment and throws something over at you.

You jump slightly, sitting up to grab at whatever he's just thrown. Feeling it over, you quickly realized it was the thermal liner of his sleeping roll. It wasn't as comfortable as a blanket would be, but it was meant to hold in heat. It would keep you warm.

You look over to Soap, watching him flop back down onto his cot, his back to you once more. You're too stunned to move at first. You never expected Soap to do something so... nice. Especially for you.

"Thanks.." You mutter, getting up slowly to better lay out the lining on your bed.

"If it makes you stop squeaking that damn bed." He grumbles back.

You weren't going to argue with him. Whether he was only giving it to you to keep you from moving around or if he really felt bad you were cold, you didn't care. You were just happy to have some warmth.

The inside of the liner is warm already due to Soap having used it right before. It even sort of smells like him a little bit but, surprisingly, not in a bad way. It smells faintly like cologne, but you can't pick out the specific fragrances.

You lay on your side, facing him this time. The apology you wanted to give him earlier is on the tip of your tongue. It was the least you could do since he'd give you the warmest part of his sleeping roll.

"Hey, Soap?" You call out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as you wait for a confirmation he was listening. He grunts a bit. "I... I'm sorry for what happened earlier." Soap doesn't say anything, and you're not sure what he's thinking. It begins to feel awkward after a moment, so you continue, feeling the need to fill the silence. "...I shouldn't have yelled at you like I did."

"It's fine, States. Just go to bed." He mumbles, making you bite the inside of your cheek again.

"Ok." You mumble back. "Goodnight."

"Night, States."

Silence falls over the room then, and you close your eyes. Soap's liner, while not the most comfortable thing, keeps you warm. The day had been long and stressful, and you weren't sure how things would be tomorrow. You just hoped the days would go by quick.

One day down... six to go...

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hurts2think · 2 months

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Hi I'm sorry you probably have a lot of requests but could you make a Chloe Charming X Fem Reader where Reader is the daughter of Sleeping Beauty and Chloe catches her in a like near death situation and kisses her and Reader wakes up. Thank you! Your work is so gooddddd

⚔️Chloe Charming x Reader⚔️

Reader pronouns: She/her

Pairing: Chloe Charming x Fem!reader

Plot: You're the daughter of Sleeping Beauty. Your parents left town and you were alone. Until your knight in shining armor came to keep you company. But who knew she'd also be there to save you from a witch who wants to steal the throne.

Word count: 2.4k

Extra: Ahhh this was such a cute idea I had to pause everything just to do it! I spent way much more time and effort on this one. Tried to make it all pretty 💙 hope you love it

Extra pt 2: No proof read sorrryyy

The castle was dark today. In Aurora's kingdom it was always bright and beautiful. But not today.

The clouds came in quickly, leaving no room for the setting sun to glow and shimmer off the sparkling marble floors of the hall.

Looking out the large glass windows, you were only met with the dark clouds in the sky and the sound of a storm slowly rolling in.

But you only smiled out the windows and at the face of the gloomy sky. How could you not? Every natural thing and event had beauty to it, even a harsh storm that was headed your way.

You smiled because you knew that even when the storm consumed you, there will always be the light that shines in the eye of the storm. The calmness and beautiful part of it. The part that reminds you to love what the earth gives you. Whether the earth and sea threatened to be one, or if the flowers wrapped around the world to keep it warm. It was all beautiful.

And surely, the night will always lead to a sky of blue...

----

The Aurora family was very high and prestigious. You were the younger of the family. Audrey was your older sister with her whole life planned at birth. She was to be the queen of Auradon and set your lives securely. But as it turns out, your family didn't have many plans for you. Which you felt that you should be grateful you didn't have the same expectations as your sister who would be queen one day. Whether it was of your specific kingdom or all of Auradon.

But you also wished that your parents would expect something from you instead of forgetting about you all together. But you managed.

Up until a year ago you had no friends. You were royalty so of course people feigned smiles and light conversation, but friends were never something you knew too well in your life. Your sister was the closest thing you had to friend, but once she went off to college, you felt alone and abandoned. But then the knight in shining armor rescued you.

A beautiful girl with blue curls down her shoulders and a sword at her hip. A princess with no fear and only determination behind her eyes. The girl that saved you.

Chloe Charming, a knight and princess in one. And just as the name implies, you were charmed the moment you met her. The light the shone off of her. Even in the gorgeous world you've never seen something as beautiful as Chloe.

Your sister and her brother dated for a very brief period of time but you had never actually met Chloe until you got to AP.

"So! You going to the tourney game tonight?" Chloe came up behind you at your desk with a big smile.

"Oh, is that tonight? My parents are leaving the kingdom on a trip for a bit so they want me to go see them before they leave." You explained with a soft sigh.

Chloe looked disappointed but she didn't frown, "Aw, that's okay. There's always next time." She slid a chair over to sit next to you, "Are you staying there for the whole weekend?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

You loved every way she moved and her curls bounced and the adorable expressions she always gave. "Probably... But I'll be back in the dorms on Monday." You explained with a soft smile.

You really didn't want to stay the whole weekend, but you just figured it would be easier instead of making the same trip twice in one day. So in the end you'd rather just stay.

"Well... Maybe I can ask my mom if I can visit you in that time so you're not by yourself?" Chloe suggested.

You chuckle and nod, "Definitely ask. I'll have the guards and servants and stuff, but they don't really talk to me..." You say with a deep sigh.

But Chloe's smile made you smile. It almost always did. It was cliché but you always felt that she could light up an entire room.

-----

Your parents left quickly after your dinner with them. You kissed them goodbye and then they were gone. And then it was quiet. And then you were alone.

But you only spent one night alone. One night by yourself before the next day rouse with beaming colors of blue. It was a perfect day. No one could predict the storm coming in.

As you were prepared and readied for the day, you decided to go on a walk before Chloe came over. Just to clear your head and prepare yourself mentally for the rest of the day.

You hurried down the never ending marbled stairs with your shoes clicking against them in small steps. You approached the grand doors and pulled the open, almost rushing out. But before you could take that step, there was a woman.

A tall older woman. She was old but beautiful. She stared at you for a moment with a small smile, "Hello, Dear. I was hired as a new maid." She calmly explained.

Your parents didn't tell you about any new maid, but it's not something they usually kept you infromed on, so it didn't come off as odd to you. "Oh! Hello, welcome. I'm the daughter of the king and queen." You introduce yourself with a polite smile. The smile you had to practice in the mirror before any royal event you attended.

The woman's eyes widened slight, "Oh my. My deepest apologies. Your highness." She said with a bow, clearly not recognizing your royal status at first glance. Though you didn't blame her. You were dressed quite casual.

A bashful smile spread on your face at the formality, "Don't worry about it. I was just about to go out on a stroll. The other maids must be upstairs. They'll show you the ropes." You say, moving aside to let the lady in.

"Of course. Thank you, your highness." She stepped inside, "Be cautious on your stroll. There's a storm coming." She said, walking away into the castle. Every step she took was calculated and she stood tall. Almost like she could be royalty herself.

Though her comment confused you. You looked outside and didn't see a cloud in sight. But, you hadn't checked the news for weather... There was a possibility. You shrugged to yourself and left the castle.

-----

Your stroll was as refreshing as you'd hoped it be. A walk through the garden was what you always needed.

The colorful and scented flowers, the green trees, and the birds singing.

You hum to yourself and gracefully skip around as you enjoyed the sun. The warm sun against your skin brought you to life.

But your stroll had to eventually come to an end when the soft sound of your phone alarm started playing. You looked at the time and realized Chloe was about to arrive.

You rushed back to the castle and as you approached, you saw the blue haired girl step out of a carriage.

“Chloe!” You yelled out, rushing over to her.

She turned her head and smiled brightly when she saw you, “Hi! How are you?” She asked, taking you into a short hug as you ran up to her.

“I’m quite fine. How was your trip?” You asked before pulling away from the hug.

“It was great. It’s so beautiful over here.” Chloe said, admiring the surroundings that were filled with beautifully large trees and bushes filled with berries and flowers.

The driver of the carriage handed Chloe her bag and the two of you locked arms.

“I’m glad you’re here. I would hate to be stuck by myself the whole weekend.” You said as you led her to the doors of the castle.

“I couldn’t just leave you by yourself! You’ll need someone to keep you company and keep safe.” She playfully winked.

You smiled as your face heated up slightly. You two walked inside and brought her up to your room.

You spoke and giggled and smiled for hours in your room. The day passed by you faster than you could imagine. Time felt slow when you were with Chloe yet everytime you were with her, the clock said otherwise.

“Oh! It’s late already. I’m sure dinner is almost prepared.” You said, looking up at the clock on your night stand.

Chloe smiled and nodded, “Let’s go down then. I’ll be right back in a minute though, I have to go to the bathroom.” Chloe said, popping up from where she sat and out of your room.

You stood up as she left. Just as you were about to leave yourself, the new maid walked in.

“Oh… hello. Is there anything you need?” You asked, surprised by her suddenly walking in.

She just smiled. But it felt much more creepy. You weren’t sure what it was, but suddenly the air felt heavy.

“Dear, I’m just the maid. You’re the princess. I should be asking you that.”

You felt tense and a little awkward, “Well, me and my friend are fine… we’re just about to go downstairs. I’m sure supper is just about prepared…” you informed.

But she just approached you and dread suddenly filled your body.

“Poor girl…” she said, slowly circling you like you were a rabbit that the lion was about to snatch up and eat, “After your parents, your sister will be queen… and you’ll be left with nothing…”

“What are you talking about…?” Your voice became weak.

“Once they hear their precious princess is in trouble, they’ll come rushing back home. Then they will be taken care of, of course. Then who will be the one to take the thrown for herself?” The lady’s grin no longer hid it’s malicious intent.

"If you do to Audrey, I'll —!"

"Shhh..." The woman placed two fingers on your forehead and your body suddenly stopped. You eyes widened and glowed a soft green, "Don't strain yourself, princess."

"Hey! Get away from her!" Suddenly Chloe ran in, standing confidently with her sword pointed at the woman.

The woman only cackled before disappearing into a cloud of black smoke.

Chloe coughed from the smoke suddenly filling her lungs, but once it cleared and she could see you, she rushed over.

Your body was weak and you collapsed into Chloe's strong arms.

"Are you okay? What did she do to you?" Chloe asked, her face filled with worry. She used her fingers to brush over the skin the woman touched on your face, making sure she didn't leave a mark.

You stumbled to stand back up straight while Chloe supported your weight, "I, I'm fine. I don't know what she did..." You explain, your voice still weak. The sky suddenly filled with dark clouds, the thunder harshly filled your ears.

"Don't worry. It'll be okay. I promise it'll be okay." She reassured, helping you stand.

But just as she did so, a huge pile of thorned vines sprouted from the ground between you two, effectively separating you.

Chloe was knocked off her feet as well as you.

"Chloe?!" You yelled through the wall of vines that now kept you sperated. The storm only grew harsher and louder outside.

Your eyes darted around, trying to see if there was a way to get out. But then your eyes laid onto something. Something that wasn't there before. Something that was never kept in the castle.

A wheel. A spindle.

The needle on the spindle glowed a bright green. You heard Chloe from the other side yelling your name. But it was like the moment you laid eyes on the needle, everything in your mind shut off.

Your legs started moving on their own, you couldn't move your eyes off the needle, and no matter how hard you tried, nothing came out of your mouth.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall, Chloe yelled your name and desprately sliced at the thorns with her sword. She hit it with the blunt end with all of her strength.

She never stopped hitting and hitting it and cutting and slicing, and with one final blow of her foot, she kicked through it.

Her hands pulled it apart and made a small opening. She rushed in and saw your unconvinced body on the floor. She gasped but just before she could step closer to you, something suddenly flew at her.

A creature of sorts that resembled a vine. Reflexively, she blocked the sudden attack with her sword.

Chloe grunted as she stumbled back. Then she swung her sword at the creature. The creature was fast and dashed around her in every way. But she never stopped fighting and making sure she'd keep you safe.

The creature finally landed a hit on her, throwing her against the wall. Chloe groaned in pain. But before she could even get up, the creature darted at her again. But this time she grabbed the dresser that was against the wall and used her strength to push it, effectively crushing and trapping the creature underneath it.

Before she could catch her breath or even celebrate her win, she ran to you. She fell to her knees and pulled you into her arms. "No no no..." She said to herself, looking at your unconscious face.

Her eyes started to fill with tears. How could she have left you by yourself? How could she let that witch get away? She felt it was all her fault.

A tear fell down her face and she cried. She never told you how she felt about you, she never got to hold your hands, she never got to spend her life with you, and most importantly, she felt that she betrayed you. She cried and leaned down to your face. She set a soft kiss on your lips. A light kiss that felt as soft as a pillow.

As her lips met yours, suddenly a burst of light surrounded you two. All of the vines swiveled away and the monster disappeared.

She pulled away and your eyes suddenly fluttered open, "Chloe...?"

Chloe's eyes widened as she gasped, "What happened?"

Without a word, she suddenly pulled you into the tightest hug you've ever received.

"Oh my gosh. You're okay. I'm so happy you're okay." After a very long moment she pulled away, her cheeks stained with tears.

"You saved me..."

"I told you I always would." She smiled, suddenly drawing you into another kiss.

Your eyes widened in surprise but you quickly melted into it, cupping her cheek with your hand. Chloe's hands held you by the waist as you kissed.

It was a long and soft.

The storm seized and the sun shone through the window onto you.

The two of you held against the lighting and the thunder, turning to a sky of blue. And it was beautiful.

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