#and his brother is the great-x-something grandfather of the man who fucked his daughter

[legendaryevokercupcake]

Oropher: Where the hell did we find this fuckin' kid, man?

Elrond: My mom threw herself off a cliff because she thought that my 'adoptive' fathers were after the rock she loved more than us and then you kinda just picked me up

Elrond: I remember that very vividly.

Gil-Galad: *Mildly horrified laughter*

[misguidedasgardian]

Storm's End (End I)

HOTD MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader

Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, talks about abortion, violence, and other very dark things. 

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4.1 k

Notes: Here it is! one of the two possible endings! hehe THIS IS THE HAPPY ONE the dark OG one is coming in the next days...

Today was the summit

Aemond thought bitterly, as he woke up and you were not there by his side, he looked towards the window and there you were, sitting there, looking at the ocean through the bars he had installed. 

You tended to do that a lot

You barely spoke, you barely moved, you barely eat

And it was not going to improve, no matter how… soft… he had became with you

“Good morning”, he said raising from his bed and walking to you, your eyes looked like the ones of someone who was no longer there, no longer living 

You didn’t answer 

“Today will be the negotiation for your release”, he said, and that is when, for a second, he saw relief

That settles it then

“I’ll send a maester in, to check you”

If you were with child

You said nothing, you waited until the old man returned

“My lady, if you will”, he asked, signaling to the bed

What you didn’t know, is that regardless of what he found, by order of the Dowager Queen… he was supposed to say only one thing

“She is not with child your grace”, he said to the Prince

The sadness in Aemond’s eyes was priceless to watch, but not the anger that came after

To no surprise, he fucked you roughly

One last time

The summoning of the two fighting monarchs and the all the great lords of the seven Kingdoms took two full moons 

Harrenhall was the chosen place for the meeting, in open air, no hiding, no tricks, no nothing

Finally they met, face to face, Rhaenyra and Aegon

“Give me back my daughter”, demanded Rhaenyra, it was the first thing she said, Aemond stood there by his brother unmoving, only a smirk on his face as he saw Luke almost hiding behind Daemon

“How ungrateful sister”, muttered Aegon, amused, “my brother saved your daughter from the wild waters of Shipwreck bay”, Borros had the audacity to laugh at that

“And we saved your cunt of a grandfather from messing with the triarchy, you should thank us, they are not to be trusted”, said Daemon, Aegon giggled childishly

“Very well uncle, so let’s solve this, we have something you want, and you have something that… well, is in our best interest to recuperate”, alicent twisted and turned in her place

Rhaenyra frowned

She wanted her daughter back more than they wanted Otto

All the Lords, the most important men and women of the realm where there 

Lannister, Tyrell, HIghtower, Tully, Arryn, Stark, Baratheon.

“We could plunge this Kingdom into war, or we can solve this as adults”, said Rhaenyra

“I agree”, said Aegon, “I’m the male heir, the crown is mine, as simple as that”

“My father, the late King proclaimed me heir, and all these Lord swore allegiance to me”, Alicent, with a deep scowl, shook her head

“To my side, all the lords that will follow my father's King Viserys wish, and proclaim me Queen”, Rhaenyra demanded, Aegon laughed, but stopped as soon as Tyrell, Tully, Arryn, and Stark walked to her side 

“The Reach will side with King Aegon”, proclaimed Lord HIghtower

“I’m sorry my Lord Hightower, but you do not rule the Reach”, Lady Tyrell proclaimed, “I do, in the name of my son”, she said firmly, “And we will side with the rightful heir, Queen Rhaenyra”

“Dorne will not dance with dragons”, said another, but still, Rhaenyra had 4 of the Seven Kingdoms, and the majority of the Crownlands 

“Before we start the negotiations, I want to see my daughter”, she demanded, “and I’ll let you see your father, Alicent”, she spoke, looking directly at her childhood friend 

“We will exchange hostages at the end of this summit”, said Aegon. Rhaenyra looked to her side, where Cregan Stark looked at them angrily

She had offered her daughter’s hand in marriage to the wolf, and he had said yes, he didn’t deter when she told him that she had been taken hostage… she knew Jace had spoken to him, but he still didn’t deter from his determination

Rhanyra kept stealing glances at his half brother Aemond, he wore a smirk on his lips and changes the weight on his feet, his hands grasped behind his back, standing at the right side of Aegon

This was going to be long… 

It was three days of negotiations

Three full days until they could reach the next conclusion

Aegon was going to rule from the capital those Kingdoms that wanted to serve him, even though that led to confusion amongst the Reach, and the Crownlands, who were divided 

The hostages were going to be exchanged

Much to Aemond’s disagreement 

But he said nothing

He himself brought you forwards

He had selected for you to wear a low cut green dress, to humiliate you, to show the most important lords and ladies of the realm the marks he had left on you, hands around your neck, bites in your collarbones, bruises. Rhaenyra whimpered when she saw you, hiding her horrified expression with a hand in her mouth

“Don’t you have a proposition to make to our sister, Aemond?”, asked Aegon mockingly, “to marry our lovely niece?”

The brothers had discussed surrendering the life of his grandfather, in exchange of you marrying Aemond, but he had decided against it

No matter how much he desired you, to have you by his side, he could not accept to go back on his word and marry you

“A bastard is not worthy of marrying a Prince”, he said out loud, shaking you still in his grasp until he made you whine in protest, “And I will not marry spoiled goods”, he continued with a sick smile.

His words stang, and you felt ashamed and embarrassed, your mother was there, right in front of you, and yet, you didn’t even dare to raise your head to look at her, you had been weak and you let her down, you let Aemond defile you, you put her in jeopardy.

Aemond at the same time, looked around and he did not see looks of approval or sarcasm, he saw looks of disgust… Directed at him

Directly at him

Not at you

At him

He was just like his brother

Both Green brothers, rapists, defiling women who did nothing wrong… raping them. He even looked at the eyes of their allies, the Lannsiter and Baratheon and not even them were looking back at him

He release you then, you stumbled forwards and your mother, not caring what other might think, she rushed to enemy lines to catch you in her loving arms, she hugged you tightly against her chest

“I’m here!”, she cried into your ear as she kissed your hair, “my sweet sweet girl, I’m here”, then you hugged her back

“Mama”, you whispered, not believing that she was real, that you were safe now, her characteristic smell, her voice, her hair, the shape of her arms and chest… it was her, you were safe

“My girl”, she repeated, “you are safe now, I got you”, she draw you back to her side, where Daemon and Luke received you with relieved faces, and tight hugs

They in turn, released Otto

Alicent was horrified when she saw the emaciated look on his face, his hair and gotten white, and he couldn’t even mutter a word

The brothers didn’t care enough to do or say something

They had taken your maidenhead

And Rhaenyra took his tongue

A fair exchange they believed

You didn't care for anyone but your mother, father and siblings, who doted on you all the journey back to Dragonstone, all of them, except from Jace

You didn’t know why, but he could barely look at you, and after he expressed his relief that you were alright and safe, he chose to stay far from your sight

It pained you, but you didn't push it 

You were home

You actually cried when you saw the castle in the horizon

And you did what you could best to not think of Aemond

He had fucked you that last time and then he took you to the summit himself on his dragon, he never spoke a word to you again.

And the maester had said you were not with child, so, why did you felt so terrible? your breasts were tender and you wanted to throw up

At first you thought it was because of how nervous you were

But when you were safe, on firm land, in Dragonstone… And the nausea didn’t leave you

You didn’t tell your mother, yet, she called a maester into your rooms, to check on you either way…

Turns out… the maester from King’s Landing was wrong… you were indeed with child

You said nothing, you didn't spoke much either way, but Rhaenyra sat by your side on the bed and hold you, caressed your hair, and whispered words of encouragement

“Everything is going to be alright my sweet girl, don't you worry”, she assured you, as she rose from the bed to talk to Maester Munkun

“She is too far along your grace, almost three moons, any attempts against the child in the princess’ belly could have dire consequences on her”, you heard him say

“Are you sure?”, you asked softly, the Maester, who should be offended, only smiled softly at you

“I never miss pregnancies your grace”, he said softly

Why didn’t the Maester of King’s Landing miss it? Perhaps he did on purpose 

For Aemond to let you go…

The maester left after giving your mother some instructions, and she looked at you, trying to analyze the calm expression on your face

“Darling… are you alright?”, she asked softly, you only nodded

“The maester in King's Landing lied mom”, you said softly, “he said that i’m not with child, I gather he said so, so Aemond would let me go”, you explained

“Much likely, yes”, she said softly, she returned to your side, sitting by your side on the bed, “my darling, I will find someone you will marry, it is imperative..”

“I don’t want to get married”, you whined looking back at her, she tried to smile, but the concern in her face…

“My love, your child… if you don’t marry…”, you placed your hand on your lower belly

“But you are Queen”, you said softly, “you can have him or her legitimized”, she smiled softly

“Yes I can, and I will do that, if that is what you desire”, she said, her uneasy gaze on you at all times

“I do not think I can handle a man… touching me… yet”, you explained, and she nodded quickly, she grabbed your hands, you did not reject her touch, you could never, if anything, made you feel better, it grounded you, soothed you

She was concerned for you, you could tell, but you still didn’t know what to say

“I need to know you are alright with this”, she said softly

“I am”, you said softly

You were just glad to be home, you were just glad that since you were with your family, you didn’t have nightmares, and if you didn’t look into the mirror… you were fine because the bruises and pain Aemond has caused you was diminishing by day…

And the child, well, you supposed you were accustomed to the idea since the first time he had you, it is what happened, and even though a week ago that maester had said you were not with child, in the bottom of your heart, you didn’t believe him anyways. 

And your calmness seemed to unnerve your mother

“I’ll leave, if you need anything”

“I’m fine mama”, you said, smiling encouragingly, she barely nodded, and left you

She left you, it was a beautiful day when you looked out the window and you decided you were going to read by it, a book of legends about love and knights….

But Luke entered your room after a few hours

“Aemond showed me the letter you send him”, you said smiling widely, you rose from your seat and embraced your brother, he hugged you back, “You tried to recuperate me, my brave little brother”

“It wasn’t enough”, he lamented

“Yes it was”, you said gently, you released him, and he smiled at you

“I thought you’d like some company”

Since you arrived a couple of days ago, you didn't want to leave your rooms

“You thought right”, you smiled, and you both both sat at the wooden table in the corner of the room

“I heard mother say… are you with child?”, he asked softly, you nodded

“Yes I am” 

“Does he… know?”, you shook your head

“And we have to keep it that way Luke”, you said back, “He can’t know”

“I think is safe to say, you are safe here, the greens have no friends amongst us”, he said, and you nodded

“How is Jace?”, you asked, he frowned

“He is… sorry he hasn't been here to see you”

“No he is not”, you said

“He is angry”, he assumed, “very angry, and he doesn't know who to be angry with… “

“He has always been a bit hot headed”, you said gently, “the blood of the dragon and all”. You missed your brother

“He is angry at the situation, not at you”, he said softly

Lucerys left you when the sun hid in the horizon…. and at night, Jace has decided to pay you a visit, as you thought, he was angry… very angry

“Is it true?”, he asked, you only looked at him from your bed, “you are pregnant with his bastard?” he asked then, you whimpered, the manner he spoke to you… so angrily, reminded you of Aemond

“Yes Jace…”, you said softly and he growled, frustrated

“How could you…?”

“There is nothing we can do”, you explained softly

“Why are you so calm? about everything? he raped you! tortured you”

“Yes he did jace”

“He ruined your life”

“I know”, you said softly

“Do you know what we had to do to prevent Daemon from burning King’s Landing to the ground? he took all his anger and rage on…”

“Otto Hightower I gather”, you muttered

“WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING CALM?!”, Lucerys was right he was not angry at you, he was angry at the situation, he was as you should be

“There is nothing we can do, its done, Jace, I’m here with you, I’m safe again, its over”, you said, and he finally calmed himself down, looking at you wide eyed

And then… he exploded

He cried, your older brother, eighteen year old, cried right then and there in front of you, wept, as he fell by your side and hugged you tightly

“I was so scared”, he whined, and you could only caress his dark hairs and shush him, “that he was going to… kill you…”

“We cannot hold this hate in our hearts Jace, look at what it did to him”, you whispered, “we have to forgive and forget or else, it going to eat us alive”

. . .

Moons passed

Five more, to be exact, and your belly had grown, as much as your excitement.

At first, you were scared, very scared, frightened, but everything changed once you started feeling him or her, moving inside of you, kicking you softly, you started feeling curious about your child, who was going to look like

You really hoped it was a girl, so she could keep you company, but at the same time, you stated feeling scared if she was a girl

The world hurt little girls

It was better if he was a boy, but if he was… he was going to be teased for being a bastard, mistreated even… 

You were conflicted

What you did know though, is that it was going to be so so loved, his uncles and aunties, Rhaena and Baela, your mother, Viserys and Aegon, Dameon, were going to love him or her, so so much

You mother was going to declare her or him legitimate, she was going to be a Targaryen, that is all that mattered

Luke wouldn’t part your side and consequently, neither did Rhaena, they were your rock

Your mother as well, but she couldn’t help but look sadly at you

And Daemon? as Jace, he found trouble having his own peace, at some point, he even blamed himself for not burning the Greens sooner.

But you had made your piece

When you were finishing your 8th moon, Cregan Stark came to Dragonstone

You were greatly surprised when on his second day, he asked for an audience with you

You sat in the great hall nervously, you were to have chaperones, Luke and Jace, but still, you got so nervous when the imposing man entered the hall at Jace’s side

“There she is”, said Jace with a nervous smile

“Here I am”, you said, you didn’t dare to stand, the table hiding your belly

“Your grace, your beauty is greater than the songs they sing”, he said, he was handsome, young, tall and broad, pitch black hair, and piercing gray eyes, his fur cape only help to enlarge his figure

“You are too kind”, you said softly

He looked at your brother strangely, they got the hint, and they walked away, directing their attention elsewhere

“I wanted an audience with you because, when prince Jacaerys flied North to seek my alliance, in said alliance, there was a promise for your hand”

“Yes my Lord, I’m aware”, you muttered, he was there at the summit, he had witnessed and saw what Aemond did to you, everyone knew and was witness to it

“I expressed your mother the Queen of my desires to continued said alliance”, he said firmly, but with a gentle smile

He wanted to marry you

“My lord…”, you started

“I know many things have happened in between, but my desire hasn't diminished… I…” you stood up from the table, revealing your pregnant belly to him, he got quiet all of a sudden

“I’m very sorry my lord, it would have been the joy of my life, but.. as you can see, I am not the maiden my brother promised almost a year ago I… I’m afraid I’m spoiled now… I’m expecting a child…”, Jace turn to look at you, white as paper

Cregan was not surprised, he looked like he expected it

“That is fine, your grace, because… I also have a child, my heir, a sweet boy of four name days, Rickon… if I may be so forward, he needs a sweet, good mother figure, and your child will need, in turn…”, you smiled

“I’m spoiled goods My Lord”, you said smiling sadly, he went forwards, his closeness didn’t scared you, he took the liberty of grabbing your hand

“You are not goods, my lovely, you are a princess, and I’m going to love and care for your child, as I’m sure you are going to love and care for mine”, he said, with such conviction in his eyes, “someday we might even… have some children of our own, only if you so please to”

“What are the Lords and Ladies of the North going to say?”, you asked then

“I’ve been away from my home long enough so nobody will ask many questions”, he said gently

“May I have a couple of days to think about it?”, you asked, smiling at him, he smiled 

“Of course”, he leaned in and kissed your hand 

it was a tough decision, not like you had too much to think about

You were lucky, terribly Lucky that the third most powerful man in the Kingdoms wanted to marry YOU, pregnant and all, but on the other side, the thought of leaving your home broke your heart

You wanted to be home, with your mother and father, and siblings

You knew you could be happy here 

Aemond had married a Baratheon, not that you cared, he had been exiled to the Storm’s End, you knew because Daemon had mocked in at dinner

Thanks to Mysaria you had ears and eyes all over the Kingdoms

You wondered if they had to

If they knew you were expecting his child

You wondered what would happen when he finds out because, he said clearly he was not going to let you go

But you didn't care, you were safe

Whatever you chose, you were going to be fine

Cregan soothed you, and he had express that you had until the baby was born to make a decision

So you spend the last moon of your pregnancy in company of your family 

. . .

“Push, my sweet girl”, cried your mother, kissing your sweaty temple

“AARRRGGHHHHH!”, a scream ripped your throat as you did, with all strength, pushed as hard as you could

“I can see the head sweet princess, just one more”, said the Midwife sweetly

“AHHH FUCK CUNT BITCH!”, you cursed all the words in the books, you swore you could hear Daemon laugh at the other side of the door

And then, a feeling of relief, the midwives cheered and then

The cry of your child

“It’s a boy, your grace! kicking like a horse, strong like one too”, your mother laughed, relieved, and so did you 

It was short minutes and then they placed your clean baby in your awaiting arms

He was so small, tiny, with silver hair and red face, he was crying loudly, a good set of lungs in him

“My son”, you said triumphantly 

It was some hours later, after they cleaned you and ready you, that your mother allowed people to come and see you, Lucerys was the first one inside 

You passed your sleeping son into his arms

“He is so small!”, he said with a wide smile, “what’s his name?”, he asked

“Aerion”, you answered with a wide smile

your entire family entered the room to gaze at your son, over Luke’s shoulder

“He’s got my nose”, said Daemon, all of them laughed, including you 

“But he has my eyes”, said Rhaenyra

“the blood of the Dragon runs thick on him”

Even Corlys and Rhaenys entered the room to see your baby

“He's just gorgeous!”, cooed Rhaenys, taking him in her arms and cradling him against her chest, “you are going to be a real dragon rider, aren’t you? you are going to claim Vermithor! or Silverwing” 

“I want him to take the Velaryon name”, said Corlys, “like you, my sweet girl”, you smiled, your eyes filled with tears

“Really?”, you cried

“Of course”

Despite everything, and even though you had been through hell… You know you were going to be alright 

You had your family, you had your son who you needed to be strong for 

You were safe

You were fine

It took you five moons to realize it, to sleep through the night, not to wake, alarmed, thinking he was going to enter your rooms to choke you and rape you

That you were fine 

That you were never going not see him again

That he was never going to see YOUR son

With Cregan…

You accepted to Marry Cregan, you married in a Valyrian ceremony after you recuperated form giving birth, and when you reached Winterfell,  you married there again, in the Godswood

He gave you space, and won your trust a little step at a time, no even a year in, an you shared your chambers and your bed with him, he had been so incredible patient, you fell in love with him, as with his son, who accepted you as his mother

Cregan took your son in, a dragon hatched in his crib, to everyone’s surprise 

After two years, to gave birth to a little girl, with dark hair and lilac eyes, and a year later a set of twin boys

You never saw Aemond again, he never saw your son, you didn't even knew if he knew about his existence

But he knew, he knew and he spend the rest of his life tortured

He married Floris Baratheon but it was an unhappy marriage, he didn’t manage to give her children, and she hated him for it

He of course blamed her 

He never forgot about you 

In Dragonstone...

You decided to stay home with your child, to be raised with his baby dragon in Dragonstone, he grew up loved and cared for, by all your family

Jace married Baela, Luke married Rhaena, and you were there to see it

Eventually, when Aerion was three, you fell in love with the second son of House Celtigar, who had come to court to serve your mother, you married, and lived happily in Dragonstone with him… 

Aemond never saw your child or you again, but he demanded Larys for information every day, for the rest of his life, he could only hear how your son was great with the sword, smart and cunning, a great dragon rider, a perfect prince, without him. 

THE END 

taglist!

@lightdragonrayne @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @twobluejeans @toodlesxcuddles @sassysaxsolo @thearchitectoflove @maidmerrymint @floralsightings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @glendarollitkatharinesanders @ruhjkie @starkjedi @baconturtle @aleemendoza2425-blog @ahristata @dlwlrmas-world @yentroucnagol @hiraethrhapsody @alwaysholymilkshake @marihoneywk @belladonna00 @strangersunghoon @anehkael @t0uch-starved-h0e @hkmultifandom @letmehavemyfictionalmen @belcalis9503 @daddydaemonswife @daemontargaryenwhore @bash1018 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @ninastyless @strangersunghoon @bellstwd @yoshiplush 

[mingiswow]

Rebel Rebel | Seonghwa

Pairing: Rebel!Seonghwa x fem!reader

Word count: ~ 4.3k

Genre: dystopia, apocalypse, angst (?), smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Summary: When the devil of a man you had the disgust of calling a grandfather destroyed the country and turned it into his little isolated dystopian world so he could rule and sell his powdered food, lots of people, animals, and vegetation died. Now, years later, you are born into this hell of a family who couldn't give less fucks about you, what can you do except rebel against this system you grew to hate? Maybe fuck your dad's biggest enemy?

Content Warning: mentions of death, family issues, cursing, fighting against the system, and sex (if I forgot anything here let me know)

Smut Warning: Filth, pure filth (I was inspired), unprotected sex (would there be condoms in an apocalypse/dystopic universe?), oral (both receiving), piv, face fucking, cum eating, multiple orgasms, Seonghwa calls reader princess and baby a lot of times, he has a filthy mouth and a big dick

a/n: another part of my Halazia brain rot series, I don't know if I'll do with all the boys, but I NEEDED to do Yunho and Seonghwa (maybe if you want you can request another member). So hope you enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments or tags or dm or whatever

You covered your head in the white hood and left the building from the back part. The path already engraved in your brain from how many times you’ve escaped the fort that held your dad and his lackey monkeys. 

You see, it’s been years since your grandfather destroyed the country and turned into something you could only imagine seeing in dystopian movies. He cut the connection to any other country, he destroyed basically every sign of vegetation and wildlife he could encounter. All because he could and he was an evil man. Ever since, your family is the one ruling whatever was left and the people that survived. But for everyone’s safety - and your own enjoyment - nobody knew who the family of the ruler was. When your grandfather was the ruler, your grandmother, as well as your dad and his siblings, were forced to be inside the fort. No one could leave or enter. It was a way of protecting not only the family but not giving the enemies the knowledge and power to enter the weak spot. Not that your grandfather cared, he was the one to kill his only daughter after he found out she escaped the building. 

Your dad, on the other hand, cared a lot about your mother and your younger brother. You? Just a mistake. Women couldn’t rule, so he didn’t give a single fuck about you, which was great. For you.

You don’t care about your life, what was the point of it? You just want to live the day as if it was last, because it can be. You found your aunt’s diary when you were around twelve years old, and became obsessed with the idea of escaping the fort. So since then you’ve been doing it. And you’re already an adult. 

It was during one of your night escapades that you met the group of rebels that was planning on dethroning your father. To say you were thrilled to go against your father but also be part of something was an understatement. 

The leader was this tall, handsome, and alluring man. His voice was sultry, low, almost like he was always whispering even when he was screaming all kinds of filthy words against your family. You caught yourself going there more often than not, as if you were hypnotized by the man. 

Over the course of the months you've been going there, a lot of the members of the rebellion tried to know more about you, to pry into your life and story but you just push them off by saying you’ve been living alone ever since your family abandoned you. Some of the days you don’t even go home knowing that they were following you, so you just sleep at the abandoned mall. 

You were quite a mystery in that group, but a good addition none the less, your ideas always turned out to be good and helpful since you’ve known your dad your entire life and the inside knowledge helped, not that they knew it was inside knowledge anyways. 

But that didn’t go unnoticed by the leader himself. He was as intrigued as everyone else by you, even his finest men couldn’t find anything about you. You weren’t registered in the country’s births for the year you said you were born or a couple of years before and after. You were a ghost. And Seonghwa wanted to know who you were. 

So when you arrived at the meet spot that night and didn’t find anyone you got scared. Were you trickered? Did they find out about your origins? Were you going to be executed? 

“Hello? Is anyone here?” You asked, your voice almost echoing in the empty place. “Wooyoung? San? Mingi?” You called for some of the rebels you’ve talked the most but still no one replied. You got up at the improvised stage that usually Seonghwa spoke and started to play as him. “These dirty motherfuckers want nothing but to destroy us. They don’t give a fuck about us the poor. They just want to sell that disgusting powder food of them” you said as you were talking to the rebels. “They are nothing but the scumbag of humanity. They just want money and power. The ruler doesn't even care about his family. Why would he care about us?” 

“How do you know he has a family?” The familiar sultry voice scared you, your body turning to the side where the sound came from, finding a relaxed Seonghwa, his arms crossed on top of his chest as his tall figure leaned against one of the pillars that held the place up. 

“Don’t you think he has a family?” You asked, trying not to sound too caught up by his presence and his questions. Was he testing you? “After all, when he assumed no one knew that he existed, what stops him from doing the same?”

“You have a point, miss yn” he walked towards you, stopping in front of the stage, arms crossing again. You walked towards him and sat on the edge of the stage, staying almost face to face with him, your feet wiggling in the air. “You are a rare figure, do you know that?”

You tilted your head genuinely curious at the man. “How so?”

“You appeared out of nowhere in our group, you have no family, no place to live and no register in the country’s systems. Who are you?"

“I’m not registered?” That was new to you. But it made sense, your dad wouldn’t risk putting you or your brother in the registers, it would be too easy to track you down. He denied. “So you went after me huh?” You smirked at the man, who simply put his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Are you that interested in me, leader?” He rolled his eyes at your question. . 

Was he interested in you? Sure, you were an intriguing being, a lone wolf in this messed up place you called home, smart, smarter than most of his men. Combined. And to say he didn’t find you attractive was a lie. The way you swayed your hips when walking or how your flesh was squeezed whenever you hugged some of the others when celebrating a plan that worked. The way you smiled or laughed at some of the jokes that were cracked to break the ice of the seriousness that they were dealing with. Or how your ass looked so squeezable and spankabe whenever you bend down to grab something. He was indeed interested in you, in both your story and your body. 

“I guess I’d be interested in a ghost if I’ve seen one as well” you answered yourself after his silence. 

“Are you telling me you’re dead and just a soul wandering around?” You smiled at him, he wasn’t usually playful, always so serious, so seeing him being slightly funny with you made your pride swell and give you a confidence boost. 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I'm a mirage. You imagined it all” he chuckled at the way you swayed your arms. 

“If you’re a ghost how can I touch you?” He smirked at you, taking two steps closer, but still not touching you. 

“Can you, sir?” You challenged him, hands resting on your sides and holding the weight of your upper body, legs slightly open and relaxed on the edge of the wooden stage. 

He felt like a winner, you were biting his bait just like he wanted. Little did he know that you knew the game he was playing and you were more than excited to play with him. 

Seonghwa took another step, this time staying in between your legs, and gently laid his right hand on your knee. “See? I can definitely touch you” you chuckled. 

“That’s what you call touch?” You got yourself up and grabbed both his hands, laying on your thighs. He instinctively squeezed them, making you smirk. “See? Like that is better” your fingertips slowly went up his arms and you could see his hairs shiver with the touch. “Have you touched someone else before?”

“Many times” he answered proudly. Men… always the same. “Have you ever been touched?” You smiled remembering your escapades with your dad’s soldiers. They were dumb but at least did whatever you told them to. You nodded.

Seonghwa finally took his hands out of your thighs and grabbed your waist, squeezing the flesh and bringing you flush against his body. You could feel his semi-hard cock under his pants and wondered if he got even bigger when hard. The thought made you bite your lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by the man that rubbed your lower lip with his calloused thumb, the tip teasing to enter your mouth for you to suck but never did. 

“And have they ever made you cum?” You chuckled at his question.

You leaned over his ear and let a breathe out, tickling his ear before speaking “Bold of you to assume I’d even let someone leave before making me cum at least twice”

“Is that a challenge?” 

“Does it sounds like one for you?” you kept looking at each other, the intensity of it making you burn inside, you were sure your wetness was passing through the thin materials of your pants.

His long fingers went under your hoodie, feeling your warm skin shiver with his touch, the tips squeezing the skin, pretty sure the indents of his nails would be a mark for tomorrow. You instinctively sighed at the feeling and his reaction was just to chuckle at your desperation. “Before we start I just need you to tell me one thing” you nodded, eyes never leaving his. “Are you sure you want to do this?” You nodded again. “I need words, princess”

“Yes, I want to” you bit your lip again, consent never felt so hot.

Seonghwa replaced your teeth with his, biting your lower lip before sucking it and starting to kiss you. You expected him to be hushed, to kiss you with desperation but no. He was soft, gentle, kind, it was such a nice contrast to his chapped lips. And a big contrast to how needy you were. His hand kept massaging your skin under your hoodie, squeezing and bringing you even closer to him. Your legs wrapped up on his waist, your core rubbing slightly with the now even bigger tent in his pants. A little whine left your lips as soon as he disconnected your lips to attack your jaw and neck.

“Can you feel it, baby? What you have done to me” he grinded on you and you felt your pussy squeeze on nothing. God, you felt so ridiculously horny for this man. His voice in your ear was like a feather, slightly touching you but still making you shiver from head to toe. If it was sultry normally, now, full of lust, was even more velvety. He kept lowering his kisses and love bites, marking your neck and chest, you definitely would have a hard time hiding it from your parents. Not that they even cared. But a little care never killed anyone.

Seonghwa stopped his ministrations and moved away from you a little so he could grab the hem of your hoodie and pull off of you, leaving your bare breats exposed to him. If once you had any ounce of self-doubt or shame it went out of the window with the way he growled before attacking one your breasts, kissing it, sucking it, biting it. His teeth grazing your niple and biting a bit harder so he could pull a little before letting it go, the stinging sensation only adding to your experience as you threw your head back and let a low moan leave your lips.

He stopped his ministrations on your chest so he could pull your face close to his again, foreheads touching and eyes staring at each other “I wanna hear you moan, I don’t want you holding your sounds like you did just now” he bit your ear, making you shiver before adding “I want everyone that passes through here to be able to know that I’m fucking you good” you nodded, eyes meeting again. “Such a good girl you are, aren’t you?” you eagerly nodded again.

You’re never the one to submit, always used to boss around the men you’d fuck, making them beg for you to touch them and making them eat you out until you came. But Seonghwa was different, there was something about him that made you a puppy around him, eager to do what he says, to be and do good for him, to impress him, make him like you. It could be your daddy issues speaking louder but you couldn’t care less, all you wanted was for this man to destroy you.

He stroked your hair, hand slowly sliding to your neck, holding it on the sides without applying any pressure. “So why don’t you be a good girl for me and get on your kness?” you could feel like a cold snake going down your body, taking shivers wherever it touched with the way he talked to you. You left the stage and kneeled in front of him, his tall figure hovering over you and you couldn’t feel smaller. He ran the tip of his fingers on your face and hair and you closes your eyes enjoying the touch. “Now put that smart mouth of yours to some use, eh? Suck me” you were dazed, your body reacting by instinct as you pulled his pants and underwear together, his penis finally getting free of the confiments of the fabric and hanging hard in front of you. 

Never in your right state of mind you’d think a dick was pretty, but Seonghwa’s was a sight to be seen. He was on the bigger size and it was thick. You saliveted imagining his girth splitting you open when he fucked you and your legs stinctively rubbed together and you could hear a little chuckle that came out of the man’s mouth when you did. You finally grabbed the member in your hands, excited with how big it looked in your hands, and took a squeeze. You licked his slit, the salty tasty of his precum touching your tongue before your started licking it’s sides slowly trying to wet the length. While one your hands stood on its base, holding a bit tight, the other went to massage his balls as you kept licking it stroke by stroke like a popsicle. Seonghwa grabbed a handful of your hair and guided your mouth to finally suck him, which you gladly did. You started to bob your head, each time trying to fit more in your mouth. When the tip hit the back of your throat it was the first time he moaned a bit louder, grabbing your head again and looking down at you, that looked up with the most innocent eyes you could convey.

“I really wanna fuck your mouth, princess” you nodded, holding his tights and looking at him one more time as a confirmation. He grabbed your head by your hair, holding you im place before starting to move his hips slowly, but as soon as he heard the filthy sounds of your mouth on his dick and the spit falling to the sides of it he lost and started to fuck your mouth fully. You tried to breathe through the nose your mouth was too busy gagging on him, his tip hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. “Fuck! You’re so hot like this” he managed to say through his grunts, right hand caressing your face softly as he cleaned the tears that started to fall. “Just a little bit more, princess. I wanna cum in your mouth and I wanna see you swallow it all like a good girl” you nodded freneticaly, holowing your cheeks a bit more as he kept using your mouth like his personal fleshlight. 

As his grunts and moans and whispers of princess started to fall more repeatedly from his mouth you could feel your pussy starting to pulse as well, his moans were so hot and you were the one causing them, you couldn’t help but be extremely turned on by the ego boost. Not only that, but anyone could walk at any minute and see you devouring his cock. With a few more thrusts Seonghwa finally came in your mouth, a bit of his semen falling out of your mouth and landing on your chest. You swallowed the thick liquid and showed your empty mouth to him proudly. “Such a good girl for me. If you keep like that I might reward you” you smiled at him, eyes hazy from pleasure. 

He pulled you on your feet and started to lick his own mess on your boobs. “Fuck, Hwa” you managed to moan. The scene alone was too hot for you, he was cleaning his own cum and your spit from your chest. He was filthy. In all the good ways.

The man got on his knees and took the rest of clothes you had, his hands squeezing the skin of your legs and going up to your mons pubis, caressing the soft skin and eye-fucking you. “Now here’s how we gonna do, you’re gonna rest your back on the edge of the stage, open your legs and put one of them on my shoulder” you did as he told you to, anticipating what was about to come. He smirked at you before without any warning or preparation attack your clit with licks. You almost fell from the sensation but your leg on his shoulder held you in place. His mouth kept working wonders on you, from his thick lips sucking you, to his long tongue licking you up and down, spreading his saliva and your wetness all over your vulva. Your hands held the edge of the wooden stage, knuckles turning white from how hard you were holding not to fall. “You taste heavenly, yn. I could eat you out all day” you don’t know how he managed to speak but you were too turned on to care, the coil in your stomach starting to grow as he kept his ministrations. “Now I understand why the men gave you at least two orgasms, I could give you so much more just by tasting this delicious pussy of yours” his hoarse voice mixed with his dirty words made you moan louder, one of the hands finally leaving the stage to hold on his hair, pushing him closer to your core.

He started to enter the tip on his tongue inside your vagina and you lost, finally coming without a warning on his face, moaning his name like a prayer but he didn’t stopped. He moved his tongue to your clit again and finally inserted two fingers inside you. You lost your balance almost falling on top of him with the sudden intrusion added to your sensitivity post orgasm. “Se.. Seonghwa… More, please” 

“More what, princess? Tell me what you need” the vibrations of his words on your clit and the rapid pace of his fingers send you over the edge instantly, your second orgasm threatening to explode.

“Dick.. I need your dick, please” your head hung back as he darkly chuckled and started going faster with his fingers. Your mouth opened but almost no sound left, you were already completely fucked out and he had even fucked you properly yet. 

“Cum again for me, baby. Cum again and then I’ll give you my cock” you nodded rapidly, a string of ‘please’ leaving your lips as he added a third finger and you finally came again, this time stronger, your legs finally giving out on his shoulders but thankfully he was there to hold you. He gently placed you on top of the stage, getting inbetween your legs and wiping the sweat out of your forehead. “Are you sure you still can take my cock, princess? You seem tired already” you denied with your head, hands circling around his neck as you kissed him. 

The kiss was once again calm and gentle, like your mouths were meeting each other again after many years and cherishing the sensations of the other. You sighed against his lips and brought your body closer to his, chest flushed against each other and warmth irradiating from both bodies. He deepened the kiss, invading your mouth with his tongue as his arms held you flush in your place by your lower back. You two made out hapilly for a while until your bodies started to grow impacient and horny again.

Without separating your mouths, he guided the tip of his member into you, slowly entering your vagina. You moaned against his mouth, face scrunching with the sudden intrusion. You were right, his girth was gonna rip you. The man didn’t say a word, but you could see by his smirk that he was feeling himself with the way you almost didn’t take his cock, stretching you open just for him to ruin you for the next men that even though of getting near you. Not that just his mouth alone hadn’t done the job.

When he felt your walls pulsating around him, he started to move slowly, being careful to not going too fast to quickly otherwise he wouldn’t last long just by the way you were squeezing him inside you. “Breath deeply, princess. Look at you, taking my cock so well” you nodded, fingers holding his shoulders. “Are you cock drunk already? I barely fucked you and you are already cock drunk for me?” you nodded again, a whine leaving your lips as he started to quicken his pace a little. “I want you to remember today, baby. I want you to remember my cock everytime you’re going to fuck those stupid men again”

“Hwa…” you moaned, head hanging low and resting on his shoulders. “I want you, only you to fuck me, please…” you choked on a moan as he sudenly started to piston inside you, his arms holding your legs open even wider, the lewd noise of skin slapping echoing through the empty room as he fucked you into oblivion. “I’m… close…”

“I can feel it, princess, me too, cum for me so I can fill you up” you threw yourself back, lower body falling almost with a thud and arched your back. With a few more thrust and dirty words by the man, you came undone on his cock, almost no sound coming out of your mouth as he kept fucking you even faster before stopping by a halt and letting his seed paint your walls. 

His body fell on top of yours, his weight comfortably reminding you that you were alive and everything was real. The following silence making you feel comforted, at home, like you never felt before. Not even at the meetings. Maybe it was the warmth of his cum and softening cock inside you, but you never felt so full, physically and emotionally. And that scared you.

After a few more minutes of you both getting your energy back, he finally came out of you, a whine leaving your lips at the sudden emptiness and wave of cold air that hit your body. He grabbed a cloth from God knows where and cleaned yours and his mess, before handing your clothes for you to put back. Even with jelly legs you managed to finish the task.

He pushed you against his chest by your lower back, a smirk on his lips before he spoke “I hope that from now on you don’t fuck that stupid soldiers of your father again”.

“I won- Wait what?” you blinked at your scared expression, like a deer caught in headlight. “You always knew?” he nodded. “I…”

“What? You thought we were too dumb to know that? You came out of nowhere, no registration, clothes made with fabric that nobody under here has access, always glowy and healthy”

“So why didn’t you guys killed me?” you asked genuinely dumbstruck. So all his talk about you being intriguing was a lie? The sex was a lie too?

“Because you are much more worthy alive than dead, at least for us” 

“So you were using me this whole time?” he nodded.

“Yes but not so much” you tilted your head in confusion. “You see, we dind’t know who or what you were until your first plan, your informations were very valuable to us, but until that day, you were just another rebelion” you looked at your feet, not knowing how to feel after all. Seonghwa grabbed your chin with the tip of his fingers, making you look at him. “Might I ask why you decided to rebel against your father?”

“He’s not my father, at least he doesn’t consider me his daughter and don’t consider him my father, I’m a woman, I can’t rule after him” you sighed and kept going. “Not that I want anyways, I hate this place and I hate this system, I wanna know the world, I wanna know different places, different people, I want to leave this country that lives like we are stuck eternally in the past. I hate my grandfather for doing this and hate my dad even more for still doing this. Those selfish bastards. I hope they rot in-” he cut your rant with a kiss and just then you realized how angry, sad and desperate you were, tears spilling down your cheeks as you finally allowed yourself to be weak and vulnerable. He held your face between his hands and looked into your eyes, foreheads touching each other.

“Let’s make a deal, you, me and the rest of the group are gonna dethrone your father with your help from the inside and when that happens, I’ll take you to meet the world, ok?” you nodded. “But you gotta promise one thing first”

“What?”

“Just fuck me from now on”

“Oh that it’s a promise I am more than glad to keep”.

This is a piece of fiction. The descriptions and actions of the people involved do not reflect the reality.

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[basiccortez]

Chapter 2 pairing: eventually, Rhett Abbott x female!reader. Female!Reader x Luke Tillerson. Reader's last name is Lawton word count: 4.9k warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, mentions of cheating, mentions of dementia, slight spoilers to outer range. eventual: death, murder, fighting, excessive drinking, cheating, birth. masterlist

Chad Lawton was one the big three in the small town of Wabang. He owned a ranch on the opposite side of town, far away from the Tillersons and Abbotts. His old man once said that it was the smartest thing his great-great grandfather could’ve done to purchase land as far away from the Tillerson/Abbott mess. It gave them peace and comfort, and it kept the “noise” that the Tillerson and Abbott boys liked to cause. But that of course didn’t seem to stop as the kids grew up. Wabang was a small town full of people who never escaped. The Tillersons, Lawtons, and Abbotts had been somewhat friendly since the day they all moved there. 

So when one day Chad Lawton found himself in the middle of town in just his pajamas and bathrobe, Cecilia knew there was something very wrong. She had called Brooks immediately and told him what was going on. The Lawton boy came into town very quickly seeing his father all worked up and yelling at Deputy Joy to get the fuck away from him. It took nearly ten minutes for Chad to calm down enough for Brooks to even approach and another ten for him to get into Brooks’ truck. That night the town gossip was hot as they talked about what had happened.

Brooks tried to ignore it the best he could, but it was everywhere he went. Even weeks after the incident, the town heifers were still talking about it. He heard the whispers at the grocery store, at the barber shop, at the trading mill, at the rodeo. He was thankful to have a good relationship with the Abbotts, and for Cecilia putting a squash to it. 

“I wouldn’t be talking about other folks’ business, when your husband was running around chasing an under aged tail at the rodeo last weekend.” Cecilia had whispered to one of the church ladies in the middle of a service. Brooks couldn’t help but laugh and felt like he could go to Cecilia for help. It was actually her advice in calling Y/N back to Wabang. 

Which is how she found herself now, sitting at her kitchen table with her brother and fiance, looking like they were ready to murder each other. Y/N had come back about five months ago, a couple weeks after the pajama incident and found the house in disarray. Brooks had told her that their dad had started to lose his mind, she just never really knew what he meant until she saw it for herself. Her heart shattered in her chest when Chad Lawton didn’t even recognize his own daughter. She had cried in Luke’s arms for hours that night about her dad’s condition. And with his help they drove up to Cheyenne to get Chad seen by a specialist. 

“I am not hiring some stranger to take care of him! We can do it!” 

“No we can’t, B!” Y/N sighed, running her hands through her hair, “You and I both have day long jobs, you have rides on the-” 

“I’ll give it up!” 

“Are you hearing yourself? You’re going to give up your dream-” 

“If that means staying with dad then yes I will,” Brooks said, stomping his foot. 

“Do you not hear how you sound right now! Like a child, Brooks!” Y/N yelled. Luke stood up from his spot and stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders, “You can’t take care of him on your own. What’s to stop him from wandering into town again? Or worse, driving off somewhere on the ranch. We have hundreds of acres he can get lost on.” 

“It’s the best for him, Brooks-” 

“Hey, you shut the fuck up,” Brooks said clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at Luke, “You have no right to talk about our family business, you damn vulture. Why don’t you go sleep with some-” 

“Fucking christ!” Y/N cursed and pushed herself up from the table, and stormed down to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Luke looked down at his boots as Brooks walked out the front door, slamming it shut as well. Luke sighed and walked down the hallway, knocking on the locked door. 

“Babe?” 

“Go away,” She mumbled, leaning her head against the cool porcelain of the bathtub. Between fighting with Brooks and the headache from the morning sickness, the last thing she wanted to do was deal with Luke. 

“Listen, he’ll come around. It’s a hard thing to deal with, having to make a hard decision about your parent’s health.” 

Y/N pushed herself up from the ground and opened the door, “He’s always cared more about this land, and the old man than I ever had. But I’ve seen this one too many times. He can’t take care of him on his own.” She sighed and ran a hand over her forehead, “You love me right?” 

“Of course baby,” Luke said, grabbing her hand. 

“I’m going to need to stay here, for a little longer,” Y/N said, “I need to be here with Brooks in case something happens. Between Brooks and I, I think we can make it work, taking shifts.” 

“You got me too, babe. I’ll be here to help too.” 

Y/N nodded as Luke kissed her forehead, and then turned to go out towards the barn. She dropped a hand to her stomach, rubbing absent minded circles on the barely there bump. She knew her time was ticking before she popped, and it was harder to hide the pregnancy from him. She swallowed thickly and walked out to join the boys. 

— — — 

It took less than a day for Luke to help Y/N move her stuff back into her childhood bedroom. She had been staying with Luke since coming back to Wabang a couple weeks ago. Brooks had put it out at the church that they were looking for people to help keep an eye on Chad during the day. Y/N hated it, it felt like asking for babysitters, but it was the only thing Brooks would agree too. The list was mostly made up of church ladies, who promised to drop off casseroles and roasts, and some of the local farmers, who would stop by and check the cattle. 

Rhett had been one of those farmers who decided to sign up, which surprised pretty much everyone. Y/N didn’t even know he was there as she was counting the cattle, moving them from the barn to the pasture. Rhett had drove up in his truck, and Y/N tipped her hat up seeing his familiar body walk over. 

“You supposed to be riding, with your uh. . . condition?” Rhett asked, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Condition? Is that what we call it now? I’m guessing Brooks told you about it,” Y/N laughed, and Rhett nodded sheepishly, “And I already got the all clear. Just no riding bulls.” 

Rhett smirked and walked over to the fence, “Brooks said he’s got a list. Where’s pops?” 

“Dad’s in the house with your mom eating lunch. Brooks ran into town to get some more feed.” 

“So they left you to do all the hard work.” 

Y/N just shrugged and moved her horse back into the stable. Rhett followed her in, as she dismounted from the steed. 

“Here let me,” Rhett said, moving to help her take the saddle off of the horse. 

“I’m pregnant, not handicap,” Y/N said, and grabbed the saddle off with a grunt and walked it over to the hooks. 

“How long? Nah, that ain’t-” 

“How far along?” Y/N smiled, “Fourteen weeks today. Little buddy is giving me a run for my money, I'll tell you that. Never been so tired and so sick in my life.” 

“Tillerson ain’t caught on?” Y/N sucked in a harsh breath and looked down at her boots, “Sorry I didn’t mean-” 

“I was waiting to see if this was a viable thing, ya know. I didn’t want to get him excited and have it taken away. Luke has always talked about being a dad,” Y/N knew she was lying, but it was something that she told herself night after night as she lay awake. It wasn’t that Luke didn’t want to be a father, she could see it in his eyes as they spent time with the little ones at church outings, and they had only talked about it a handful of times. Everytime, Luke said he wanted to wait just a little longer, until they were married and hand their own house on the Tillerson Land. 

“I can see,” Rhett said, leaning against a post, “I reckon he oughta know soon.” 

“He will,” Y/N said, crossing her arms over her chest, “I should go inside and see what our parents are up to.” 

Rhett nodded and followed behind her. They were welcomed with laughter as they walked into the house, something Y/N hadn’t heard in the house in years. The sound of her dad’s hearty laugh was like music to her ears as she walked into the kitchen and saw Cecilia Abbott near tears as her father was holding his stomach in laughter. 

“What’s going on here?” Y/N asked, smiling. 

“Your dad was just telling me this old story about Royal and him during the rodeo days,” Cecilia said, wiping under her eyes, “Oh boy, you two really got up to some antics back then.” 

“Oh heavens yes,” Chad laughed, “Then the kiddos were born and it seemed to multiply. Heather was always gettin on Y/N about hanging around the boys. If she could see her now, running around with them Tillerson boys.” 

“Dad,” Y/N warned with a smile, “Let’s not talk about all that-” 

“Can you believe Cece, that damn blonde one got her pregnant.” 

Y/N closed her eyes and sucked in a breath as her father revealed her secret to none other than one of the biggest gossip in town. Y/N loved Cecelia Abbott, she really did, but sometimes she put her foot in her mouth. Cece loved a good gossip story as much as the next cowboy hat wearing farm-wife did. 

“Oh wow, congrats,” Cecelia smiled at her, her blue eyes darting over to Rhett, who placed his hands in his back pockets, “How far along?” 

“Fourteen weeks,” Y/N smiled shyly, “You can head out now, I think I got it handled from here.” 

Cecelia nodded, knowing that her presence probably wasn’t welcomed anymore. She stood up from the kitchen table and walked over to hug Chad, before grabbing her hat off the counter. She smiled at Y/N and then gave Rhett another pointed glance, before slipping her hat on her head and walking out the front door. 

“I’ll walk her out,” Rhett said, and Y/N nodded, as the boy followed his mother out to her truck. Rhett waited until he was at his mom’s truck before opening his mouth, “Tillerson don’t know. . .about the baby.” 

“Is it even his?” Cecelia asked, looking back towards the farm house. 

“She’s not like him or any of the other buckle bunnies,” Rhett said, “She wouldn’t just say it's his without it being true.” 

Cecelia chuckled and shook her head, opening the door to her truck, “A mess she’s gotten herself into. She had such a bright future.” Cece sat in the driver's seat and smiled at her son, “I know you, Rhett, I can see it in your eye. . . but you can’t get mixed up in her shit. It’ll only end bad for you and for her and for that baby.” 

“I know,” Rhett said barely above a whisper. Cece placed a hand on her son’s cheek and rubbed his cheek bone softly with her thumb. 

“You ride at eight?” She asked him and he nodded, “Good. Gives me time to go home and bake a pie. I’ll see you later.” 

“Yeah,” Rhett said, closing the truck door. Cece rolled down the window and started the old Ford up, “Don’t. . . Don’t go around sayin’ stuff about it. She’s probably giving Chad an ear full right now. Bad enough Brooks was runnin his trap the other night to me and Perry.” 

“Secrets safe with me. Bye, Rhett.” 

Rhett waved to his mother, and watched her pull out of the Lawton driveway. He watched the truck turn off the gravel and then walked back into the house. He was surprised when he heard crying and walked into the kitchen, seeing Chad crying in his daughter’s arms. Y/N looked up at Rhett, her own eyes red with tears as she tried to comfort her dad. Rhett waited outside on the porch as Y/N calmed her dad down enough that she could get him up from his chair and to his room to rest. 

She sighed as she walked out the front door and sat down next to Rhett on the slider. She ran her hands through her hair and let out a soft groan. 

“I wish I could fucking drink,” Y/N laughed to herself, and sniffled, “He could tell I was upset about what he said, and it was just. . . his emotion center is all-” 

“You don’t have to doctor ‘splain anything to me,” Rhett said, and put a hand on her back, “He okay now?” 

“Yeah,” Y/N bit at her thumb nail, “Mrs. Johnson was supposed to come tonight and watch him while I go watch Brooks and Luke but I don’t think-” 

“You need the break,” Rhett spoke and Y/N looked up at him, “I know he’s all you got, but you also can’t stress yourself out too much, for the baby.” 

Y/N bit her lip before standing up, “Wanna see something?” 

Rhett nodded and Y/N stood up. She untucked her blue flannel from her jeans, and lifted it up enough to show the black tank top underneath. Rhett’s eyes widened as he looked at her stomach, seeing the small swollen spot. She put her hand on the tiny, tiny bump, accentuating it even more. Rhett could remember how touchy Perry was when Rebecca was pregnant, and he got that same sudden rush. 

“Noticed it the other morning, even though Brooks says I’m just seein things.” She smiled down at the small belly, “It’s only up from here.” Rhett looked up at her with bright blue eyes, and Y/N could read his mind, “Not much too feel quite yet.” She picked up his hand and placed it on her skin. His eyes widened and he let out a small chuckle, “My mom said in her diary that she could feel me starting to move around fifteen weeks. Any day now.” 

“That’s uh. . . that’s cool,” Rhett retracted his hand and Y/N put her shirt down. 

“Yeah. . . I’m gonna tell Luke tonight,” It felt like a stab to Rhett’s heart when those words escaped her mouth, “I’m only gonna get bigger and there’s milestones he’ll miss if I wait any longer.” 

All Rhett could do was nod. 

— — —

The smell of livestock had never bothered her before, but something about being pregnant and waiting behind the arena with Brooks had her wanting to turn and vomit. Perry was helping tape Brooks’ wrist as Royal was tapping Rhett’s. Luke never liked to be distracted and had told Y/N that she was a distraction, so she waited until after his first ride to go see him. 

“You okay there?” Perry asked Y/N and she looked up at him, her fist still covering her mouth and gave him a thumbs up. Perry chuckled and shook his head, “Rebecca couldn’t stand the smell either when she was pregnant.” 

“Jesus Christ Brooks, who haven’t you fucking told!” Y/N yelled at her brother. 

“The pastor,” Brooks shot back, and Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, “I’m kidding, just these two. And well, Perry technically told Royal.” 

“Cece told me this afternoon,” Royal answered and finished taping Rhett, “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. Cowboy’s promise.” 

“Well I thought this,” Y/N said, delivering a slap to her brother’s chest, “Cowboy could promise.” 

“Hey!” Brooks laughed, right as the announcer called Luke’s name, “Better go see the baby daddy.” 

Y/N flipped her brother off, before walking over to near the shoot where Billy and Trevor were waiting. Trevor smiled down at his soon to be sister-in-law and put his arm around her shoulders. Out of all of them, Trevor seemed to like Y/N the most. She thought she was good for Luke, and it helped that she was Chad Lawton’s daughter and would be set to own one of the three big Wabang ranches. 

Luke’s ride was going to be easy, he had drawn an easy one, but it still got the boys excited as they stood next to her and cheered on Luke. Watching Luke and Brooks ride always brought a type of excitement in her body, but right now she was feeling dread as Luke got bucked off in five seconds. She could see the look in his eye as he watched his name drop under Rhett’s on the scoreboard. Trever and Y/N shared a look as they walked over to where Luke was coming out of the arena. 

“I should’ve gotten fucking eight. It was an easy fucking ride,” Luke cursed as he threw his gloves down. 

“You still did good,” Y/N said. 

“I’m gonna lose to that stupid fucking Abbott,” Luke seethed and she knew better than to talk. Luke looked up and could see the way her body language shifted and he sighed, walking over to her, “Hey,” He grabbed her face with his hands, “Let’s go watch Brooks. He needs to see us there.” 

Y/N nodded and took Luke’s hand, walking back to the side by Trevor. Brooks’ ride was going to be a little bit harder than Luke’s and Rhett’s, but it wasn’t the worst bull in the circuit. Y/N climbed up on the fence, watching as Brooks dropped into the chute, and the bull already started bucking. 

“Hey,” Y/N said, and placed a hand on Brooks’ shoulder, “You good?” 

“Always,” Brooks smiled at his sister, “Don’t get too close, don’t want ya hurtin the kid.” 

“If this kid is like us, it’ll take a lot more to knock it down,” Y/N smiled and patted his shoulder, “Get ‘em cowboy.” She hopped back down and landed next to Luke, whose face was unreadable. He placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close. 

Y/N waited with baited breath as the gun went off and the chute opened. The second the bull was free, the animal bucked hard to try and get Brooks off. Brooks’ black cowboy hat was knocked off as the eldest Lawton held on with one hand and the other in the air. It seemed like time ticked on forever, Y/N’s eyes trained on the clock as it ticked down until the buzzer sounded. Brooks let go of the rope and let himself be bucked off the animal. He picked up his hat and looked at the scoreboard, seeing himself slide into first. 

“Brooks!” Y/N cheered and the Lawton boy looked at his little sister, pointing at her with a big smile. He ran over quickly, climbing the metal fence and dropping down next to her, hugging her tightly, “Dad would be proud.” 

“Did it for him,” Brooks said into her hair. 

— — — 

Y/N didn’t stick around long after Brooks' ride, mainly because of Luke and the Tillerson boys pulling her away after Rhett’s ride. Rhett didn’t ride nearly as well as Brooks, and was just shy of beating Luke. Brooks had won the circuit, securing his position in the semi-finals. Rhett and Luke would have to ride again next weekend if they wanted to secure a place in the semis. Y/N wanted to congratulate Rhett, but Luke was not about to let her leave his side. His sudden possessiveness was giving her whiplash, as she sat next to him at the Pit Bar.

She was hardly paying attention to what the boys were saying, knowing it had something to do with the conversation they had with Royal Abbott about the deed to the land. Y/N could never figure out why Wayne Tillerson was so obsessed with Abbott's west pasture. He had been that way since she had met the man when she was young. It seemed to have gotten worse after he had his heart attack a year ago.  

“Did he say anything to you when he was helping out at the ranch?” Luke asked, Y/N. 

“No,” Y/N shook her head and sipped her water, “My old man said there was a reason why my grandaddy settled on the opposite side of town. To stay away from this shit.” 

“Smart old man,” Luke smiled and kissed her cheek, “Trev, Maria just walked in.” 

Y/N looked over where Luke pointed his head towards. Maria smiled at her and Y/N gave her one back and a small wave. Maria was one of the girls that Y/N used to be jealous of in high school. She was naturally beautiful with her shiny brown hair and big brown eyes. Y/N swore that girl never had a zit in her life or had a bad hair day. They were friends, both being on the dance team together in high school, and had plans on studying pre-medicine at the same college. The boys seemed to notice Maria first, and then Y/N. Even Rhett noticed Maria over Y/N, the two of them dating briefly in high school. Y/N seemed to be the shoulder to cry on for both of them when they would argue. 

“Go get it, Trev,” Y/N smiled, and nudged the Tillerson boy with her foot, “She’d be good for you. Keep you a bit. . . tame.” 

“Tame? Huh? And that’s what you did with lil Luke here?” Trevor laughed. 

“Of course she did,” Luke smiled, putting his arm around her, “Calmed me down into a perfect family man, I mean. . . I’m going to be a father soon.” 

Y/N tried not to let her jaw drop at Luke’s revelation. She knew he probably overheard what Brooks had said, but didn’t think he’d spill it out on the table now. She gave him a tight lipped smile and looked over at the other two Tillerson boys who weren’t hiding their shocked looks. 

“Surprise?” She said, softly. 

“Wow,” Billy said, “And I thought maybe you had some breast implant surgery done.” 

Y/N scoffed as Trevor hit his younger brother upside the head, “Ignore him, he was choked by his cord when he was born. But congrats, you two. Excited to have a little one running around. Better start looking for an ATV for the rugrat.” 

Y/N smiled and nodded as Trevor stood up from his seat and walked over to the bar where Maria was. She didn’t dare to look up at Luke, scared to find the expression on his face. But the wave of nervousness washed over her as he put his hand on her thigh, and rubbed it gently. He placed a kiss on her temple and fell back into conversation with Billy. 

The Garth Brooks song playing through the speakers was one of Y/N’s favorites as Luke spun her around the floor. Billy had disappeared going to find a girl for himself, and Y/N wanted to dance. She giggled as Luke dipped her, and stood her up, placing a kiss on her lips. When the music changed from the up-beat country song to a slower one, she sighed as Luke brought her in close. They swayed to the familiar voice of George Strait, Y/N leaning her head on Luke’s shoulder. 

“When were you going to tell me?” He asked, softly. 

“Tonight, after the rodeo. I was judging the ride to see how your mood was going to be,” Y/N said, honestly, “I didn’t want to tell you too soon and then something happened.” 

“Well,” Luke took her hand, and spun her around so her back was against his chest, “I would’ve liked to know sooner, either way. If something did happen, I wouldn’t want you to go through it alone. Besides all the extra shit with your brother and dad couldn’t have been good on you or the baby.” His hand traveled down to her bump, and for some reason, it felt odd having his hand against her skin. Unlike when Rhett touched her belly earlier that day. 

“I know it’s just. . .Oh shit,” Y/N pushed away from Luke as she saw Brooks and Rhett head outside. She could see in the way Brooks was walking, this wasn’t going to end well, “I’ll be right- Brooks!” 

“Why don’t you go back inside and find Luke,” She heard Perry slur, as she pushed the door open as Brooks and Rhett walked in on the fight waiting to happen between Perry and Trevor. 

“Brooks,” Y/N called out to her brother. 

“Go back inside,” Brooks said to his little sister as he pushed Perry back from Trevor. 

“Don’t tell her what to fucking do!” Trevor yelled, grabbing Brooks’ arm. 

Rhett grew angry, as he put his hands on Trevor pushing him back from the two men and Y/N. Y/N could hear him muttering under his breath as Brooks came and stood in front of her, almost as if he was both protecting her and blocking her from watching Rhett lay a punch on Trevor’s face. The single punch sent Trevor flying towards the ground and Y/N gasped, taking a step closer, only to be stopped by Brooks. 

“Can’t get in the middle of that,” Brooks muttered, “Too dangerous to stop an angry drunk man.” 

Trevor got up quickly, and grabbed Rhett’s legs trying to tackle him to the ground. But Rhett had some height and strength on Trevor, and could keep himself on his two feet. Trevor broke free from Rhett’s grasp and landed a punch to Rhett’s jaw. 

“If you won’t I will,” Y/N said, and took a step forward as the door to the bar opened again and Maria walked out. Rhett’s name fell silent on Y/N’s lips as Rhett delivered one last punch to Trevor, knocking him back down on the ground. Rhett’s blue eyes looked at Y/N, and then over to Maria. Y/N went to reach out for Rhett as he walked past her, going straight to Maria. Brooks watched as his little sister’s confidence diminished a bit as once again, Maria was chosen over her. 

“Come on,” Brooks said, and guided his sister inside, “Let’s go find Luke.” 

Y/N nodded, and didn’t bother looking over at Rhett again as she walked back into the bar. Rhett looked up briefly from Maria, seeing the two walk back inside. Rhett felt a pang in his chest as he watched her go sit back down by Luke, who put his arm around her and his hand on her belly. She must’ve told him, and by the look on Luke’s face, he must’ve taken it well. Which made Rhett feel even worse for how he felt early at the Lawton Ranch. 

“Can I tell you the truth real quick? I know I don’t bring much to the table,” Rhett said and looked back down at Maria, “But that guy’s the biggest asshole you’re ever gonna meet.” 

Maria didn’t say anything as Rhett walked back inside, just looking over at Perry, and Trevor, who was still groaning on the ground. Y/N’s eyes looked from her glass of water in front of her, to Rhett, who had a certain swagger in his step as he walked into the bar. She shifted in her seat slightly as he walked by their table, and knocked on it, giving them a slight greeting. Luke watched him walk on by, grabbing his stetson from his table and then walking out the front door. 

“I wanna go home,” Y/N said, grabbing Luke’s attention, “I’m getting a headache.” 

“Yeah, of course, baby,” Luke said and kissed her temple, before getting up, “I’ll go close the tab.” 

“I’ll go wait outside,” Y/N said and Luke nodded. He grabbed her hand and helped her stand up, but not before he placed his hat on her head. She smiled and kissed his cheek, before heading out the door and waiting by Luke’s truck. 

“You told him?” Rhett’s voice startled her as she jumped and looked over at him. He took his hat off his head and held it on his chest, “He looked like he took it well.” 

“He overheard Brooks saying something to me about standing on the fence next to the chute. Said it was dangerous.” 

“Well he’s right,” Rhett said and walked closer to her, “I read that at fourteen weeks, the baby is the size of an orange.”

“You googled that?” 

“Read a book that Perry had,” Rhett smiled, sheepishly, “I hope he treats you alright.” 

Y/N nodded and Rhett leaned forward, to place a kiss on her cheek. His lips lingered for a second, then he placed his hat back on his head and walked away. 

“Hey, baby,” Luke said, walking out the door, “Have you seen Trevor?”

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

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[evita-shelby]

Between the Shadow and the Soul

(a shameless Thomas Shelby x OC fanfic)*

*also on Ao3

Gif by @outerbanksxpeakyblinders

Eva Smith was a strange one, born of an Irish-Mexican woman and a gypsy on the run.

Her maternal grandfather, Colonel Patrick Riley, had been one of the men who deserted the American army in 1846. Eva's father, Henry Smith, thirty-three years ago had been sent to Mexico to his father’s friend in Mexico when he killed a man. There he stayed and married one of his host’s six daughters and escaped the Great War only to be killed in the Second Mexican Revolution in April 1914.

Harry Smith’s youngest daughter, Eva Smith, was sent to her grandmother and uncle in England to avoid having her follow her two older brothers to the gallows, but if anyone asked, she was brought to take care of her senile grandmother.

She was pretty enough, with dark brown hair and equally dark eyes that looked into your soul as if she were reading a book. One look at her and men were left spellbound by her. Thomas Shelby believed himself the exception.

Miss Smith was also one of the many beneficiaries of the Smith, Riley and Arambula shipping company. A company that was still recuperating from crippling losses these past six years had been smuggling Mexican tequila, rum and whiskey to North America without ever being caught. 

Less than a day after her uncle showed up at the Garrison Pub to negotiate a refund for a shipment of whiskey compromised by Grace, he sees her walking down the street just as it began to rain.

“Your uncle should be careful with you, a pretty girl like you could get hurt in these parts.” He tells her as he pulls up beside her and she ponders whether she should get in the automobile or keep walking.

“I would have had known if such a thing were to happen today.” Her English was almost entirely American, but the Spanish and occasional Irish tones gave her a rather distinct voice. Everything about her was designed to allure you, especially those fucking eyes that knew your secrets. “Which is why I took the long way today.”

Miss Eva Smith was clairvoyant, something she’d gotten from her half-indigenous mother supposedly. She knew things other people didn’t and that helped her uncles smuggle things in and out of whatever ports they used.

“Hmm.” Thomas didn’t know her well enough to know if she was a fraud. Polly claimed she was the real thing, knew about her missing children with just one look. “Still, it would be bad for business to let you walk home in the rain.”

She smiles sweetly, no, politely, and doesn’t wait for him to open the door for her before getting inside the vehicle. Tommy didn’t need to ask where she was headed, Old Mrs. Smith lived in his territory and for a discount on the whiskey he made sure the old woman wasn’t bothered.

“Miss Burgess is the one who betrayed you to the police, by the way.” There is no hint of uncertainty in her voice. “She was the one who told the police where the whiskey and other goods were, turned in Ada’s Freddie, and has even told them about Black Star Day.”

He could kill her this second and yet she was here still alive, sitting in his car with her gloved hands folded neatly on top of her black skirt. Always wears black, some bullshit story about the President of Mexico forbidding her from mourning her rebel brothers

“What makes you think I will trust your word for it?” he looked at and she remained calm with her knowing smile, she had been a soldier in the Mexican Revolution ---or so it was said. Perhaps that had given her nerves of steel.

“You won’t, but it doesn’t hurt to try and warn you about it. Besides I have no idea what Black Star Day is, but it must be important if she told Officer Campbell about it.” She reaches for the door to leave, but he takes hold of her wrist. “Don’t worry, sir, I won’t tell my uncles, Mr. Shelby, I wouldn’t want people knowing the great Thomas Shelby was fucked over by the nosy barmaid.”

So, the perfect rose sitting in a car alone with a gangster had thorns? Miss Eva Smith was perfectly civil, but he can guess it was her tongue that go her exiled from her country,

“If you know so much tell me how tomorrow will end.” He doesn’t ask, he demands. Tommy could kill her and while it would sour any potential deal Shelby Family Limited could have with the Smith, Riley and Arambula Shipping Company, it wouldn’t matter.

“It’s not as if you believe me.” She grumbled, refusing to look at him, looking out the window as if they were just two friends catching up with each other. “My name might as well be Cassandra of Troy.”

“Maybe, I would believe you this time, I admit you were right about Grace, but anyone could have known that. She was not as good as a spy as they think.” He turns off the vehicle and offers her a cigarette which she refuses.

Eva scoffs, perhaps she had been a spy given how insulted she felt by Grace being one.

“And yet you still want her, who would have thought a lying barmaid could have such a hold on you, Mr. Shelby.” Eva taunts him, daring to go there. A different person wouldn’t have, but the woman beside him was not anyone. “I bet she and Campbell are celebrating thinking they’re finally ridding the world of the Peaky Blinders.”

“I could kill you for that.” he warns, and she chuckles, brushing her pretty hair away from her face, as if hurting her were the furthest thing from his mind.

“You won’t, if you wanted me dead you could have killed me instead of offering me a smoke.” She gestures to his cigarette still refusing to look at him. “I will tell you what I have seen about tomorrow, only because I saw it when I passed the Pub yesterday and the outcome of tomorrow depends on you staying alive. Three gunshots and two coffins, make sure you and yours don’t die.”

[taizi]

when the bones are good

@natsumeweek 2021 day 4; sweet/sour

read on ao3

(previous part)

x

Yousuke Takuma looks like he regrets inviting the Natori brothers into his house. They tend to have that effect on people.

“I shouldn’t be reading these,” he says in a very calm tone. “These are the sacred property of your clan. They shouldn’t even have left your property.”

“It’s not like anyone is going to miss them,” Shuuichi replies plainly. “My grandfather still thinks I can’t get past the locks on the storehouse door. Even Takashi can get past those, and he’s eight.”

“Sometimes I just ask Urihime to get me the keys,” Takashi admits. “She doesn’t get along with grandfather so she likes having an excuse to take stuff from him.”

It’s a nice way of saying ‘she fucking hates him’ but Takashi is a nice person. 

The kid is chronically honest. Always has been. He’ll strive to frame it kindly, but the truth is all you’re getting from him. It can be annoying, but mostly it’s pretty funny, and at the end of the day Shuuichi is glad that Takashi doesn’t feel the need to lie or make up stories. Even about the really unbelievable things. He just says what he’s thinking, because he knows it’s the truth, and his big brother will back him up if anyone gives him any trouble.

Shuuichi doesn’t have a lot in his life to be proud of, but he’s proud of that. 

The right people don’t care if a little kid tells ghost stories, anyway. Hinata thinks they’re great. She keeps threatening to write them all down and adapt them into her first screenplay.

Takuma puts his face in his hands. Across the room, Tsukiko giggles, clearly not as focused on her homework as she would like for the rest of them to believe she is. Ginro sets a tray of tea down on the table and gives Shuuichi a stern look for having the audacity to stress her master out so soon after his injury. Chastened, Shuuichi lifts his hands in apology. 

“If you really don’t want to look at them, I’ll put them away,” he says. “But I trust you not to—run off with them and patent them under your name, or whatever it is you think I should think you’re going to do.”

That works a huff of wry laughter out of the man, and he looks up at Shuuichi with a warm expression. It’s the way Shuuichi thinks his dad might have looked at him if he’d been born a proper son.

“Lunch first,” Takuma says, “then we’ll take a look at this paper magic of yours. Though if a couple of little geniuses like yourselves can’t figure it out, I don’t know what you think this old man will be able to do.” 

He adds the last bit with a smile for Takashi, who beams up at him from where he’s been not-so-subtly sneaking Jinbe rice crackers. Jinbe is the most unsettling of Takuma’s three familiars, but he’s also—to Shuuichi’s resignation—Takashi’s complete favorite. It appears to be mutual.

“You’ve kept your promise, haven’t you?” Takuma asks after a moment. “About staying away from those meetings?” 

Shuuichi sighs performatively. “Of course I have. It’s not like I could bring my brother with me, and he’d hardly just stay home. He’s very disobedient.”

Takashi scoffs. “Hinata-neesan says I’m your most redeeming quality.”

“Nowhere in there does she mention ‘obedient,’” Shuuichi replies without missing a beat, and grins when Takashi makes a face at him. 

“Alright, alright,” Takuma says, laughing properly now. “As long as you’re keeping your word, I don’t care about why.” He pushes himself up to his feet, moving a little stiffly, and smiles at his daughter when Tsukiko hurries over to take his arm. “There should be some margherita pizzas in the chest freezer. I bought them on a whim the last time I was at the supermarket. Should we try them?”

Of course they should. Takashi scoops the last of the cookies off the table and piles them neatly in Jinbe’s greedy hands, even though Takuma sighs and makes noises about spoiled shiki. Tsukiko gives the disappearing treats a bit of an odd look, but she seems more fascinated to be in the company of spirits than unnerved.

Shuuichi is beginning to think that his relatives are just bad people. 

“By the way, have you made any progress on,” Takuma starts, and finishes with a nod towards Shuuichi’s arm. 

The lizard is scurrying around in busy little circles, as if it’s feeling restless. Shuuichi covers it with his hand, something that sometimes works in calming it down, like putting a blanket over a bird cage. In this case, it crawls onto his hand instead and resumes scurrying there. Weird little thing.

“I still have no idea what it is,” Shuuichi says ruefully, “but Takashi is trying to teach it tricks.”

Takuma stares at him, and then at his brother. Takashi offers, “It knows ‘roll over’!”

“Go,” Shuuichi’s mentor says firmly, pointing them down the hall. “Kitchen. Lunch. We’ll discuss this later.”

A knock on the door interrupts their noisy exodus, and Takuma frowns. Clearly, he isn’t expecting company. The amiable man’s posture tenses as he gestures for Tsukiko, Shuuichi and Takashi to stay put. Ginro and Benihimo flank him on his way to the front door. 

Exorcists tend to be a paranoid bunch.

But with a dangerous ayakashi on the loose, Shuuichi thinks, with a prickle of unease all his own, maybe it’s better safe than sorry. 

“Urihime, go collect all our scrolls and put them in my bag,” Shuuichi says swiftly. “Sasago, stay right here.”

His shiki both nod, and Urihime disappears. 

Tsukiko is picking up on the atmosphere, even if her eyes aren’t the same as theirs. Even normal humans have a sixth-sense sense for certain things and it’s not to be taken lightly. She shifts nervously, and something in Shuuichi’s chest goes warm when he realizes she’s put her arm around Takashi’s shoulders protectively. 

“Seiji?” Takuma asks. His voice is raised in surprise, carrying from the genkan. “What on earth are you doing here?” 

Relief and dread fight each other in the pit of Shuuichi’s stomach. Dread wins. He’s only encountered Matoba Seiji twice, once at the summit he inadvertently followed Amasaki to, and then again in passing for a few minutes in the woods, but those brief meetings were enough. 

Even normal humans have a sixth-sense for certain things. Usually danger. 

“Tsukiko,” he says casually, “can you and Takashi go get lunch started?” 

To Tsukiko’s eternal credit, she doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Takashi, will you help me? Dad buys so much weird stuff when he goes shopping that it might be hard to find the pizzas.”

Takashi gives Shuuichi a look that says, very clearly, that he knows when he’s being fobbed off. Shuuichi ruffles his hair in a way that ruins the careful work Sumi-san (the only member of the Natori house staff who will still talk to either of them) put in that morning with half a dozen bobby pins. Now it flops into Takashi’s eyes and he makes an outraged sound, reaching up to shove Shuuichi’s hand away. 

“I’ll fill you in later,” Shuuichi says. “Promise.”

That’s enough for Takashi. Mollified, he trails after Tsukiko without argument, and with only one curious look over his shoulder. Jinbe drifts after them watchfully, and probably only partly in hopes of more snacks. Sasago remains at Shuuichi’s side, a stalwart presence that he’s come to depend on. 

It’s Shuuichi’s job to keep the monsters away. Whatever form they might take. 

Takuma looks irritated as he leads Seiji into the sitting room. With a nod of his head, he invites Shuuichi inside, too. The tea tray from before has vanished, a new one sitting in its stead, and Shuuichi notes with some inward amusement that Ginro didn’t lay out any snacks this time. 

“Well, what do you know,” Seiji says, as enigmatic as ever. “Shuuichi-san, I never would have expected to find you here.”

It’s impossible to tell what this guy is actually thinking. 

“Did you come by to check on Takuma-san, too?” Shuuichi asks. He has to work to keep his tone from biting, but he manages it.

“In a sense,” Seiji replies politely. “I was hoping to find out more about the ayakashi that attacked him. Going after it before it hurts anyone else is an exorcist’s job, don’t you think?” 

It’s bait, as clear and obvious as a cricket dangling from some fishing line. If he were still the bitter brat he used to be, maybe Shuuichi would have risen to it fiercely, like a tide, surging and crashing against Seiji’s unchanging stone facade. He would have said, ‘You don’t care about helping people. You called Takuma-san weak. You’re just looking for someone to use.’

Which is all perfectly true, and perfectly justifiable reasons to not want to drink tea with this guy and discuss the differences in their conventions, but it’s not like calling Seiji out would do any good. It probably wouldn’t even be satisfying. He would just gaze at Shuuichi with that stupid cat-that-caught-the-canary expression and make him feel like an idiot for existing.

He gets enough of that at home, thanks. 

“You’re right,” Shuuichi says mildly, with a smile of his own, “that is an exorcist’s job.”

Takuma eventually tells Seiji what he wants to know, clearly having given up on keeping the teenager away from exorcist summits and dangerous ayakashi, but he does afterword his information with warnings to be careful. 

Urihime sets Shuuichi’s bookbag beside him and he nods his thanks. Seiji clocks the two-second interaction with sharp eyes. 

“Look at that! You have a servant?” His eyes follow her when she moves to stand next to Sasago, next to both of Takuma’s shiki along the side of the room, and he whistles. “Two servants. Pretending to be an exorcist on the sly, are we, Shuuichi-san?”

More bait. Another cricket. Shuuichi sips from his teacup. “They belong to my family. I don’t know why they follow me around. They must be bored.”

All of which is true, technically. Takuma’s eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline, but he doesn’t comment. Sasago turns her head very slowly, and her eyes, hidden beneath their blindfold, seem to bore into the side of his head. Urihime is less subtle and outright hisses at him. 

“Hmm, jury seems to be out on that,” Seiji says, and laughs. 

The sitting room door rattles open and Tsukiko peers through. Shuuichi’s fists clench in his lap, because sure enough, Takashi is right behind her, his brown eyes peeking curiously into the room. 

“Sorry, papa, but is your guest staying for lunch, too? Only, I don’t know how many pizzas to put in.”

“No, no, I couldn’t impose,” Seiji says. “I’ll get going and leave you guys to enjoy the rest of your afternoon. It looks as though you were having a pleasant time before I barged in.”

We were, Shuuichi thinks, but he keeps it to himself. He and Takuma stand up to see Seiji out. Seiji pauses when he spots Takashi behind Tsukiko, and his amicable expression takes on an edge that Shuuichi can’t define. He looks more engaged now than he did during the entire conversation with Takuma. 

“Hello again,” Seiji says in a pleasant tone. 

“Excuse me?” Shuuichi interjects loudly. “‘Again’?”

“Hi,” Takashi replies at length. His gaze is fixed on Seiji’s face as though there’s something interesting happening there. Jinbe drifts like a shark behind him, mask pointed towards Seiji suspiciously.

“As I thought, you have good eyes,” Seiji remarks, whatever that’s supposed to mean. He looks across the room at Urihime and Sasago, down at the bag by Shuuichi’s feet, at the lizard mark curled up on his arm, and then finally up at Shuuichi himself. Smiling widely, he adds, “I look forward to seeing what becomes of the Natori clan.”

Takuma escorts him out properly, and Tsukiko goes back to deal with the pizzas. Alone save for a scattering of trusted ayakashi, Shuuichi kneels and beckons his brother over. 

“C’mere, squirt.”

Takashi crosses the room to him. Standing in front of Shuuichi like this, they’re almost eye-to-eye. 

“Have you met that guy before?” Shuuichi asks. 

“Only once. It was when you had classroom duties and Hinata-neesan took me to the 7-Eleven to get chicken nuggets,” Takashi explains. “We met Matoba-san while we were walking. He said he was your friend.”

“I don’t have any friends.” 

Takashi nods very seriously.

“That’s what Hinata-neesan said. She took out her pepper spray and waved it at him. I think Matoba-san thought that was funny, but he said he didn’t mean to upset her, and he left. It was the right thing to do, probably, because he didn’t have any spirits with him, and Urihime was getting annoyed that he was talking to me.”

Shuuichi feels like he’s aged thirty years in the past three minutes. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes hard enough that there are spots in his vision when he looks up again. 

“Takashi, listen,” he says, “stay away from him. If he ever approaches you for any reason, tell me about it, okay? Promise?”

He holds out his pinky. Takashi rolls his eyes, much too grown up at eight years old for things like this, but he hooks his finger around Shuuichi’s gamely. 

“Whoever lies has to swallow a thousand needles,” they recite together, and then Shuuichi ruffles Takashi’s hair again just to make him squawk. 

“Sorry about that, boys,” Takuma says when he comes back. 

He pauses in the doorway and his bandaged face creases in a smile to see them rough-housing playfully, Takashi struggling to free himself from Shuuichi’s headlock, the tense atmosphere from before banished like an errant spirit.

“Bring those scrolls with you to the kitchen,” Takuma says warmly, “and I’ll help however I can.”

Seiji can think whatever he wants about Takuma, but the man is clever. By the time Shuuichi and Takashi are ready to leave, packed up with a leftover pizza and some cookies for the road, they’ve puzzled out the array that they were stuck on and Shuuichi managed to make a paperman fly. 

Takuma had looked over the notes he’d taken ruefully. He couldn’t help but absorb some of the practices for himself as he helped the boys study them, and clearly he felt guilty about that. Shuuichi leaned forward across the table and caught his eye. 

I trust you, he wanted to say. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father. But there was absolutely no way Shuuichi could say something like that. Not out loud, with his mouth, where someone might hear him. 

“Clan trade or not, if you’re ever in danger and any of this paper magic could help you, I want you to use it,” he said instead. “No secret is worth keeping if it means you get hurt. Right, Takashi?” 

“Right,” Takashi piped up, his little voice clear and bright in that sunny kitchen. He was watching intently as his paperman wobbled precariously across the table, trying to carry a note to a delighted Tsukiko, and didn’t bother looking up even as he added, “It’s just paper, ojisan.”

“Yeah, ojisan,” Shuuichi teased laughingly. 

Takuma rolled his eyes, but gave in with a smile, as if he couldn’t help but be charmed by their noisy, obtrusive presence in his home. For a second, even though he was clearly the one who had gone out of his way to help them—wasting an entire day working with them on magic he didn’t fully approve of them studying in the first place, an entire day he should have spent recuperating—Takuma looked as though they were the ones who had done him a favor, just by being there. 

“What did Seiji mean when he said you had good eyes?” Shuuichi will remember to ask his brother a little later, when they’re walking home. 

“Oh, I guess because I noticed the weird mark on his face,” Takashi says. 

“Weird mark? What did it look like?”

Takashi hums thoughtfully, glancing around. He trots off the road a little bit to pick up a stick, then crouches in the dirt and starts drawing a strange, crooked symbol. Shuuichi leans over him to watch.

It’s not a symbol he’s ever seen before. Yokai writing, if he had to guess. 

“What does it mean?” he asks the shiki. 

Sasago drifts over and inspects the drawing, her face giving nothing away. 

“‘Something owed,’” she translates after a moment. “I think the closest human word would be ‘debt’.”

“Huh,” Shuuichi says. He offers Takashi a hand and hauls the kid back upright, frowning thoughtfully. “And you said it was on his face?” 

“Yup, above his right eye. Didn’t you see it?” A thread of anxiety works its way into Takashi’s voice that Shuuichi is quick to smother. 

“I didn’t have my glasses on,” he says smoothly, “so I must have missed it. You know your eyes are better than mine.”

Takashi grins up at him, appeased, and they spend the rest of the walk playing with bits of talisman paper. It’s habit by now to keep their pockets stuffed full of scraps. Shuuichi manages to make a couple of them fly, and Takashi claps his hands together in glee every time.

To anyone who might be watching, it probably looks like the wind is catching the scraps and lifting them out of their hands instead of the shaky first steps of magic it really is. There won’t be anything to question about the sight of two brothers, taking their time getting home to a place where no one is waiting for them, laughing and jumping as they try to catch those floating pieces of paper.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Male!Werewolf (Rhys) x Human! Reader (Modern AU) 3

PART 1  -  PART 2

Male monster x human reader

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing Part 3

“There is no way I’m doing that.”

“Ah come now, sugar.” Rhys had been sat on your bed when he had told you the announcement: the prospect of meeting his parents and other brothers had been spoken about since after you had gotten together, but you didn’t think the motion would be so… extravagant.

“You didn’t tell me it was going to be this extra, Rhys.” You sighed, heavily, pinching at your nose as you searched through your wardrobe for anything that could make you look presentable. A cocktail party, something you didn’t think Rhys would ever introduce you to.

“It’s just for one night, babe. And then, when it’s all over, we can go back to yours and have as much pizza and movies you want.” He grinned toothily, his brown eyes winking your way. “How does that sound?”

“You’re terrible, you know that?” You exclaimed over your shoulder playfully. “I don’t even think I have anything appropriate.”

“You can dress down for me if you want.”

“Rhys, this isn’t helping.” You quavered, “I’m meeting your parents! I need to make a good impression.”

“Look, they’ll love you for who you are, no matter what you look like.” Rhys smiled, standing up and coming to hug you from behind, wrapping his muscular arms protectively around your waist.

“You mean it?”

“Of course, sugar. I don’t want you getting overwhelmed by this.” He kissed your cheek tenderly, the warmth coming through his chest radiating through your back. “I appreciate you coming with me though.”

You leant further back into his chest, “You mean it?”

“These events always bored me, and my old man always asked when I would bring back a girl for him and mom to meet, but I never did nor ever want to show up. This is something I want to do now, not just for my dad’s sake.”

You smiled at that, grateful to be able to do this for him. “Then, I hope they like me.”

“They will,” he nuzzled into your cheek, “just like how I do.”

-

“So you’re parents’ names are?”

“Atticus and Eleanor.”

“And you have four brothers - Nicholas, Theo, Marshall and Jackson.”

“Correction: Nick, Marshall then Theo and Jackson.” Smiled Rhys, as he turned the steering wheel to the left, coming off the main road and down towards the secluded and private narrow road. You were staring out the window, shifting your dress to cover your legs as best as you could as you watched the tall trees pass. “You didn’t tell me you owned a private house.”

“It was my grandfather’s, he gave it to all his children to come to for celebrations and whatnot. It’s just used more often by my pops than his other siblings. The Hawthorn manor, something that has been in our family for two centuries.”

“I didn’t know that.” You pondered. His family is big but I didn’t know they were rich. The manor was a piece of grandeur in his family’s name, and it certainly was something of glory: its high walls and stone marble were glossed in onyx, with high foliage that grew over the bricklayers with its bright red double doors on display. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you, sugar.” Rhys was dressed to the max in a borrowed dark blue suit and black tie, his hair swept back and gelled back as his hand came to wander and squeeze your thigh. “If we weren’t going to this, well—I don’t think we’d even make it out the house.”

“Just keep an eye on the road, silly.” You playfully said, averting your gaze in which Rhys noticed, his deep chuckle always seemed to calm your nerves. “You’re gonna do amazing, babe. I know it. Just remember, deep breaths.”

You did as told, breathing through the nose and out through your mouth, in and out, until you could say you were slightly calmer. “Oh shit, we’re here.”

The driveway wasn’t really a driveway, but more like a small acre in a field: large enough to hold four grand cars as large as the BMW Rhys drove: all marbled and glossed black and leather-bound seats, you didn’t know what you were walking into.

You stepped out and walked over, arms linked to the door as Rhys gave the knocks to the red entrance, the sound itself seemed to reverberate through the outside of the manor than inside, but it was still all too impressive.

The doors opened suddenly and outpoured the two people Rhys held some tolerance for. His parents were similar in height and dressed accordingly to the occasion: reds and blacks of silk dresses and ties, their dark hair sprinkled with occasional greys throughout, their olive skin still youthful to make them look to be in their early 40s than late 50s.

“Rhys, you look well,” His mother was dressed beautifully in reds with a long-sleeved maxi dress and her lips being the same crimson shade, her hair pulled back into a neat bun. Her eyes landed on you with the unexpectant warmth that radiated like the sun, “you must be the special someone?” Her tone was welcoming, caring.

“That would be me, yes.” You sheepishly announced, before Eleanor took the initiative and embraced you tightly in a welcoming hug. “Welcome, my dear. It is so nice to have a new face around here.”

“You’re the one who’s got our boy’s head doing cartwheels?” Rhys’ father, Atticus was presenting himself with a beaming broad smile, his large hand coming to shake yours tightly and all too enthusiastically. “My future daughter-in-law will be the needed asset to this family.”

“If you would, dad, I don’t think we want to spend the evening in the cold,” Rhys informed with a roll of his honey-brown eyes. Eleanor took you by the arm as she took your coat to hang up. 

“Finally, another girl to keep me company surrounded by these men.” She chuckled to herself, her eyes full of mirth. “You will like Rhys’ brothers, they take after my humour, not that old dog’s.”

“Hey, I’m still here.” Atticus jested with a wink, his crow’s feet creased. “Come, we can begin now that everyone’s here.”

You took a glance back to Rhys, portraying an ‘I’m sorry we were so late because I couldn’t curl my hair properly’ to which he looked back with an, ‘It’s okay, it’s still beautiful nonetheless.’

“Our guests have arrived, boys!” Eleanor announced, the reception room was extravagant with Corinthians that would put their Greeks to shame. There, from their spots turned the four men awaiting the final guests, all ranging in different heights and forms. 

“Boys, come say nice to Rhys’ girlfriend. Be kind.” Eleanor warned, flashing a sympathetic smile as she hurried to collect more glasses for the two of you.

His brothers were all tall compared to Rhys, maybe the second to youngest, Jackson was an inch taller than Rhys, but Nicholas was and foremost the tallest, followed by just two inches, Theo, then Marshall.

“I didn’t know you were bringing a girl round?” Jackson announced first, grinning from ear to ear as he looked at Rhys’ body language and facial expressions, “A pretty one too.”

“Look, you can go find one for yourself to bring here,” Rhys kept his tone oddly calm for this intrusion, gripping at your hand securely, “we’re a thing.”

“So, you marked her?” Marshall looked you up and down with a single glance, his nostrils flaring momentarily. “I see no mark.”

“Nor do I smell her claim.” Jackson sniggered.

“You’re making her uncomfortable, Jack.” Theo came to push aside Jackson, smiling warmly to you in return. “Forgive us, we must look like animals tonight.”

“Hardly ever.” Retorted Rhys with a click of his tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, feeling slightly aware that what they were talking about was making you uncomfortable, “what do you mean by claiming.”

“A wolf claims their mate when they find the one,” Nicholas joined in the conversation, leaning over to smile almost considerately. “It’s what wolves do when they care for their partner.”

“I see.” You could feel the tension build with the silent back and forth glares that Rhys was sent to his older brother, the sudden realisation and disappointment in knowing that you hadn’t been marked by Rhys yet… or would you ever be?

“I’m gonna get another drink. This is killing me.” Marshall slipped past, walking straight to the bar as Eleanor came back with two drinks of champagne in her hands. “Our finest, though it does go a bit to Jack’s head.”

“Funny.” Pouted Jackson, “I’m sober enough to see this night through.”

“Like last time was any better.” Nicholas seemed distracted elsewhere, his eyes always drifting in the room. “Summer of last year was an awful one.” Theo sighed dramatically, “For me.”

“We had a great time!”

“You set dad’s car on fire. And I had to clean up your sick.” Theo addressed as Jackson shrugged. “Okay—but we still had fun.”

“Come, Theo, you gotta help me with bringing up more bottles.” Eleanor grinned as she beckoned the kinder of the Pearson brothers away, leaving now just the four of you to idle chatter.

The champagne couldn’t go down your throat any faster.

You didn’t know whether the tension building between Rhys and Nicholas was already ready to burst, but when you had looked to the oldest Pearson brother, you had been surprised to see his hardened gaze on you already. He regarded you with a curt nod, before saying your name clearly.    

“Nicholas.” You acknowledged him coolly. “You already met Nick?” Jackson addressed, eyeing the two of you up with suspicion. You regarded Nicholas with a small glance to find him already staring back at you. “Not on the best of terms, but yes.”

“I wasn’t in my best of moods, but I can say myself, I was acting like a dick,” Nick confessed earnestly. “No hard feelings?”

“None at all.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want to get awkward with you, since seeing you with Rhys makes him happy.”

“I didn’t think the day would come,” Jackson grinned, “he’s like a lovestruck puppy.”

“I’m still fucking here, Jack.” Gnarled lowly Rhys, his voice resorted to sounded two tones deeper than usual, almost imperceptible. “I’m sure your little girlfriend doesn’t want to hear you swear so much, Rhys,” Nick added, smirking thinly.

Rhys snorted through his nose as he gave you a final regretful look before storming off, saying under his breath of needing some more to drink. “My apologies for him, he’s always... struggled with expressing proper emotions.” Nicholas simply added whilst Jackson continued sniggering at the affair.

“Maybe to you, but not me.” You finally added, your brow furrowed, now angry to see how bad it could get being both the youngest and forgotten one of the family. “Yeah, he isn’t perfect, but who is? I like him just how he is, and I know that he cares for me.” You addressed to the both of them: Jackson’s laughter and jeering quietened, whilst Nicholas continued to stare at you as if you were the main hideous attraction to a circus.

“Now, I don’t know about you, but I want to enjoy my evening.” You pressed the champagne glass into your bottom lip, whilst finally, Nick was first to have a broad smile appear on his face as if your words had inspired him the most, his laugh a gentle and deep timbre. “You know, I didn’t think at first I’d like you, but you surely changed my mind.”

“How so?”

“You’re like him a lot, but that warmth and empathy you have is what maybe none of us showed much to Rhys.” He placed his large hand upon your shoulder, the warm startling hot in his palm. “I hope he sees himself how good you are to him.”

You couldn’t respond at first, but Nicholas’ words were merely earnest, as he collected his younger brother and dragged him off by the shoulder. “Come, Jack, let’s go find the others. Have a good evening.” He left with nothing else to say, leaving you more than confused and surprised by his change in his words. “What in the fuck?”

-

You had found him on the second floor on the balcony that you didn’t think would be accessible to them all, but here he was, staring out idly at the view that outstretched for acres.

“Hey, I knew I could find you here.” You smiled as you came to cradle you from his back, his back tensing from your touch as you leant into him, silently thinking to yourself as you took in his lack of words or movement. “Are you okay, Rhys?”

“I’m sorry about them, sugar.” He confessed, his voice hoarse and low, “I wanted to impress you and show them how good we were together, but all they did was mock and leer, mock you as much as my love for you.”

You removed yourself when you heard that certain word, the one word that made your stomach flutter and head spin. “You… you love me?”

“I know it’s shit, and I didn’t want to confess like this either.” He laughed dryly to himself, his eyes downcast. “I wanted to make it official too, you becoming… my mate.”

Mate. The word was innocent enough but it brought you to do somersaults in your mind, and your grip around his waist loosened enough to make Rhys assume you were reacting negatively to him. “You’re scared of me, aren’t you?”

“No, I just—I didn’t think you wanted to do this, not now.” You soothed, relaxing when his head rested against your forehead, his eyes closing in relative peace. “I didn’t want to pressure you into anything, not until you were comfortable with me.”

“Rhys,” you calmed him, “I’m with you until the very end. I… I love you.”

His eyes had opened when you confessed the three words to him, his honey-brown eyes so wide in realisation, yearning only for you. “I love you too, sugar. So much.”

He captured you lips rougher than you had expected, his fingers threading through your tresses, pulling you closer to him, the heat of his body and familiar scent of him was all you wanted and you needed.

“Shall we get out of here, babe?” He had asked with a full beam on his face when he had pulled away from you, the low growl reverberating through his chest like a soft motor.

“You want to ditch your family?” You had laughed, pulling him closer to you as he kissed from your jawline to your neck. “I mean, they won’t be looking for us now, and we can finally get that pizza and chill night in.”

You kisses him again, more passionately and rougher than the first time, pulling back to look him in the eyes as you felt the calmness lull you to competition. “I can’t say no to that then.”

-

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[ivarthebadbitch]

Strange things can happen

Chapter 3 summary: Ecbert has some advice for the newlyweds on the morning after. Ragnar makes an important announcement.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2]

On Ao3: [1] [2]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 1755

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman (let me know if you’d like to be tagged)

CHAPTER 3: You never know with Saxon women

Ecbert’s head hurt, but it was nothing that a little wine with breakfast couldn’t fix. The evening had been something of a blur after they had put the newlyweds to bed: all he could really be certain of was that Ragnar had taught him some sort of dirty song in his language, and that he had lost a shoe at some point, so on the whole he had to consider the night a success. Though he did need to confirm one thing to truly count it as a success.

“I do hope that Aldreda and Ivar will be here before their breakfast gets cold,” he remarked to his son, who had been quietly eating his porridge. “However...that may be a good sign. It is unusual for a newly married couple to conceive on their first night together, but—” he nodded at Ragnar on the other side of the table, who also seemed a bit hungover—“as we all know, Ivar comes from fertile stock, so I would say that the chances are higher than normal. Wouldn’t you agree, Aethelwulf?”

If it was possible to stir porridge in a resentful manner, then Aethelwulf had surely mastered it. “I suppose so,” he said reluctantly. He looked over at Aethelred and Alfred, desperately searching for a different subject. “Alfred, don’t push your porridge to the sides of the bowl. You aren’t fooling anyone and you’ll just be hungry later.”

“Sorry, Father,” Alfred said. He still did not eat his porridge. He stirred it. Resentfully.

“Father, before Aldreda and Ivar arrive, if I may…” Aethelwulf said in a low voice, leaning in closer to Ecbert. “I know a great deal has been invested in this marriage and...and everyone hopes it will be profitable and agreeable to all. But they are young and no doubt somewhat overwhelmed by these events, and so all I ask is that you show some tact and restraint this morning.”

“Oh, is that all?” Ecbert gave his son a reassuring smile. “I will be very circumspect, I promise you that. Ah, and here they are!”

Aldreda came in first, followed by Ivar, with his arms slung over the guards’ shoulders. They deposited him on the chair next to Aldreda, directly across from Ecbert. Both of them stared intently at their porridge. Neither of them made a move to touch it.

“Please, eat,” Ecbert told them in an encouraging tone. “Both of you must have worked up an appetite by now. I do hope last night was fruitful?” 

“Father,” Aethelwulf said through gritted teeth.

Aldreda gave him a pained smile before looking at Ecbert. “We...know each other somewhat better now.”

“Hm.” That did not quite sound like the resounding success Ecbert had envisioned. “In a carnal manner, I hope. There is no need to be modest; we’re all family here. Though it is also good to become better acquainted on a personal level as well.”

Aldreda turned bright red. At her side, Ivar looked like he wanted to slide under the table and disappear into a hole in the ground. 

“Of course, it can be difficult to be intimate with someone you have only just met,” Ecbert acknowledged. “You will grow more comfortable with each other over time. After all, you have many things in common, such as...such as your age. Yes. The two of you are nearly the same age. And...hm.”

“Thank you for the advice, Grandfather,” Aldreda said after a moment. Nobody seemed to want to speak after that. 

As the silence lengthened, Ragnar suddenly cleared his throat. “I have an announcement,” he said. “Now that my son is married and our treaty is secured, I intend to return home as soon as the weather is favorable. King Ecbert, I trust that I may have use of one of your ships?”

“Certainly,” Ecbert replied. “You are quite welcome to remain as long as you like, but I understand you must have responsibilities to attend to in Kattegat. Rest assured that Ivar will be well taken care of.”

Ivar’s head shot up, his mouth hanging open in dismay. “What are you talking about, old man?” he asked his father in Norse. “You can’t leave me here with these people!”

“Shut up,” Ragnar answered as Ecbert pretended to not understand the exchange. “We will talk about this later.”

The boy sat back in his chair with a sullen expression, and Ecbert moved to intervene. So long as Ivar was sulking and unhappy, there would be little chance that he and Aldreda would conceive an heir. “Perhaps after breakfast, you would like to join Aethelred and Alfred in the training yard?” he asked Ivar. “Ragnar tells me that you have some skill with a bow, and the boys may learn something from your technique. Unless you wish to spend the morning with your bride?”

Ivar looked up at that. “Training,” he said in English, and Ecbert thought he saw Aldreda let out a small sigh of relief. He would talk to each of them separately later, if necessary. But Aethelwulf had made reasonable points earlier that the couple had perhaps been overwhelmed by the turn of events, and Ecbert was nothing if not a reasonable man. There was still time—so long as they didn’t make him wait forever.

                                                            ***

Ivar finally managed to shake off the guards after dinner. The pair had evidently been tasked with dragging him around anywhere he needed to go—as punishment for something, he assumed—but it had been getting somewhat tiresome, and at any rate, he could get around perfectly well on his own. He ignored the stares he was getting from the passing servants and nobles as he crawled down the hall and banged on Ragnar’s door until his father finally opened it and let him in.

“You can’t leave,” Ivar snapped at him the moment the door was shut.

His father raised his eyebrows. “I thought I was clear about the nature of the agreement with Ecbert,” he said as he took a seat on the floor next to Ivar. “He allowed you to marry Aldreda on the condition you live with them. Me staying was not part of that. My brother Rollo remained at the court in Paris after he married the emperor’s daughter. It is a normal arrangement.”

“I thought Rollo was a great traitor.”

“Well, yes. But my point still stands.”

Ivar’s eyes began to well up with sudden tears and he turned his head away so his father would not see. But if you leave, I’ll be all alone here. “Mother will kill you if you go back without me.”

Ragnar laughed. “I’m willing to take that risk, but I think her heart will soften once she understands the benefits of our new trade agreement,” he said. He clapped Ivar on the shoulder and leaned in close. “Your task here is simple but important. All you have to do is please your bride. I assume you can do that?”

Ivar pulled away. “What sort of an idiotic question is that?” he asked with a scowl. “Of course I can. I will...I will...give her pleasure like she’s never had before in her life at this stupid court.” Even as the words left his mouth, he could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment. How had his father failed to see through all his lies?

Rather than asking more questions about how exactly Ivar intended to achieve this, Ragnar grinned. “Excellent. Don’t tell your father-in-law, though. He is looking for an excuse to kill you.” 

“Aethelwulf can go fuck himself.”

Ragnar positively beamed at him. Then he pulled out a flask, took a swig, and handed it to Ivar, who followed suit. “Well, boy, since it’s our last night together for some time, we can drink to that.”

From there, things became somewhat fuzzy. They both ended up lying on the floor at some point, with Ivar half listening as Ragnar somewhat incoherently recalled his past exploits. He had almost stopped paying attention entirely when his father suddenly said, “Oh yes, that was the time I was with your mother and Lagertha. Now that was a night worth remembering, though I think they enjoyed each other’s company more than they enjoyed mine.”

Ivar propped himself up on his elbows. “What?”

Ragnar shrugged. “Don’t look at me, it was your mother’s idea. She got Lagertha to go along with it. Lagertha would have killed me if I’d made the suggestion again.”

“Again?”

“Oh. Never mind that.” He sat up woozily, cleared his throat, and leaned closer to Ivar. “Listen, your bride must have lady friends, right? It might be worth asking. See if Aldreda would be interested. But you need to be delicate about it. You don’t want her to take it the wrong way.”

Ivar could feel his face growing hot again. “I don’t think she has lady friends. There aren’t that many women here for some reason. Just Aldreda and Aethelwulf’s wife. Some servants.”

“Oh, well, servants can be fun too, but I’m sure you know that.” Ragnar flopped back down on the floor. “You were just a child at the time, you wouldn’t remember, but there was this one slave back in Kattegat...beautiful woman, never seen anyone like her before, she was from...from...well, it doesn’t matter. But I sucked her toes once.”

Ivar stared at him. “She liked it?”

“I think so. Anyway, might be another thing to try with your wife. These Saxon women...you never know with Saxon women...”

Ivar supposed he did not know. He lay there on the floor next to Ragnar for a while, trying unsuccessfully to rid himself of the mental image of his father sucking on a woman’s toes, and then imagining what his life would look like in Wessex all by himself, surrounded by strangers. It wasn’t too late, he thought to himself. He could just tell Ragnar the truth and then Ecbert and Aethelwulf would be more than happy to be rid of him. Aldreda would certainly be thrilled to have him gone. All he had to do was swallow the humiliation of everyone knowing that, on top of everything else, he was incapable of doing a man’s duty. But at least he could go home.

“Father?” he said softly. “I need to tell you something.”

No answer. He turned his head to look. Ragnar was passed out beside him, limbs sprawled and his mouth wide open as he snored. 

Great. This was just great. “Fuck you too,” Ivar sighed. 

[ourimpavidheroine]

An Anniversary

Five years ago today, the 13th of February, 2015, I published, all in one shot, a piece of fanfiction called Please Excuse My Penmanship.

I hadn’t, at that point, written - never mind published - any fanfiction for over fifteen years. I had written some X-Files fanfic back in the day but I’d lost it; my backup floppies disappeared when I moved to Finland and, like just about everyone else back then, the places I had posted it to online disappeared without warning. (Toss a coin to your Archive, oh valley of plenty.) I’d been pretty torn up about losing my fic that way, which put me off writing. Time went on; I had twins in 2002 and they both turned out to have non-verbal autism and different flavors of ADD/ADHD and my life got very complicated and very difficult for a lot of years there. Writing for pleasure wasn’t even on the table.

By 2015 my life had settled a bit. My wife was disabled and suffering from severe and untreated depression and the kids were in special ed and a lot of therapies but we were managing. I had watched Avatar: The Last Airbender with my kids (on DVD - they were too young for it when it first aired) and had gone on to watch The Legend of Korra with them as well. 

I really liked Mako as a character; he was too internal and complex for most of the kids watching, however, and wasn’t well liked. Most fans saw an inflexible jerk who caused and fucked up a love triangle; what I saw was an autistic man who was suffering from pretty severe PTSD. He grabbed my interest. I related.

I really liked his dynamic with Prince Wu, despite the fact that he was a really annoying character. Queer-coded as fuck, although the showrunners were plainly ignoring it. And I started to headcanon who they would be as a couple. How to make Wu less annoying while still making him canon Wu? How to humanize Mako while still acknowledging his autism and PTSD? Headcanon was all it was, though, a way for me keep myself occupied. I’ve been writing stories inside my head as long as I can remember. It’s what I’ve always done.

I read a post on here on Tumblr where the OP stated that there was no such thing as a good Letter Fic; I thought to myself, Bet I could do it. And so in the end of January 2015 I sat down at my PC and started to type up all of my headcanon.

I went back and forth with Wu. What I first started to write was too clumsy, by half; I tried to stick to his endless slang and it was as annoying as it had ever been on the show. I knew if I stuck to that shallow, silly, stupid, canon Wu he wouldn’t be interesting to read. I struggled with it for a time until I remembered something.

My maternal grandmother told me a story once about a girl from Mexico. Claudia was her name; she was a year older than my mother. Her own mother had died when she was born; her father, who was one of my grandfather’s business partners in Mexico, had left her in the care of her grandparents, who were extraordinarily wealthy denizens of Mexico City. At some point the adults involved thought that it would be a great idea to send this girl to stay with my mother’s family to learn English; in return, my mother would then go and stay a summer in Mexico City to learn Spanish. (Which she did; she’s fluent to this day.) Claudia had no English at all but my grandmother had working Spanish and I guess they all figured it would be enough for this poor girl? 

The first day Claudia arrived in San Francisco my grandmother kindly showed her into the bathroom and told her to take a shower. My Grams realized about ten minutes or so later that the water hadn’t turned on; she went to check on her and there she was, sitting obediently on the toilet seat, fully dressed, waiting for the maid to come and undress her and turn the water on for her shower. 

She had no idea how to do either of those things for herself. She had never, at the age of thirteen, undressed herself or operated a shower. And there it was, the opening of my story. Wu remembers arriving in Republic City on the run from the Red Lotus, checking into the hotel, and having no idea whatsoever what to do next. And I thought to myself...What if he isn’t actually stupid? 

And there he was. My Wu. Just like that.

I wrote feverishly for a week, drawn into the story that was sitting in my head, waiting to be told. I didn’t have a Betareader; my wife liked my writing but rather tersely told me that TLOK wasn’t her fandom and she wasn’t interested in reading it, something that hurt me pretty deeply, especially since my X-Files fanfic was how we’d actually connected in the first place. 

(She was, at that time, in the process of slowly dying of heart failure, but I didn’t know that then.)

I wasn’t going to publish it. I just wanted to write it, to see if I still had it together after a seventeen year hiatus. Wuko wasn’t at all a popular ship; after the show finale a couple of months prior all the fanfiction being feverishly written and published was Korrasami. (In fact, I checked AO3 at the time and found exactly two Wuko fanfics, both of which were one-shots and not to my particular taste.) I went back and forth with it and then thought, Fuck it. I’ll just do it. And maybe no one will read it but at least I’ll have done it. I read it through one more time and then, on the thirteenth of February, took a deep breath, told myself to stop being a coward, and posted the entire fic at once. 

I got my first comment, and I was elated. And then I thought to myself, Well, fuck, you may as well write some of the other stuff in your head. You might learn something about yourself as a writer on the way.

Then, a few months later, on the seventeenth of June, my world fell apart. My wife, staying at our summer cottage with our twelve year old twins, died of a heart attack while the kids were off playing and I was here at home, getting ready to travel down the next day on the train to meet them all for the summer. My daughter was the one to find her; she was long past saving at that point. Family friends brought the children, our pets, and our car the two hours back home as I collapsed on the floor of our flat and rocked myself back and forth, wordlessly keening, my hands trembling uncontrollably.

The next year was unspeakable. I was a widow at forty-six; I was living in a foreign country with two disabled children, with no family or friends nearby and an imprecise grasp of the language. My wife had told me she had life insurance; she lied. I was flat broke. My grief was deep and whole and devastating; my children were traumatized and barely functioning. I had no one to help me, and I’d cook meals at midnight so my sleeping children wouldn’t hear me sobbing in the kitchen.

And I wrote.

And I wrote.

And I wrote.

I wrote out of desperation; I had to do something to keep me tethered to this world. I wrote of love and families, of a traumatized child from the street that was my daughter’s age, full of bravado and choked fury. I wrote of an autistic boy growing into a man, bullied and shunned, aching to be free, much like my own. 

I took my children to more therapists. I took myself to a therapist that turned out to be homophobic; I found another one. I made dinners; I cleaned the house, I walked in circles around my living room, whispering over and over to myself, You’re okay you’re okay you’re okay you’re okay, before making another phone call.

And I wrote.

In August of 2018 my daughter attempted suicide and was hospitalized. I was trying to write I Do Not Ask The Night For Explanations and I had to stop. I had severe panic attacks whenever I tried to work on it. I brought her home and I cut my work hours down to four hours a week so that I could be with her at all times; she wasn’t safe to be left alone. I cared for her. I cared for her twin, who was terrified, unable to sleep, afraid that if he wasn’t watching her she’d try it again. I fought until I got them different therapists. I stopped sleeping. My health suffered.

And I wrote. When I could. It was, without any doubt at all, the only thing that was keeping me going during that time. I would tell myself that I had to keep going, that I still had so much of this story in my head, I needed to get it out. Sometimes I would write while sobbing. Sometimes I would sit here at my desk and nothing would come. I just kept going, though.

It’s better now. She missed most of last year of school and is making it up this year and doing so well. Her brother is at a new school and has, for the first time in his life, made friends. I was able, in December, to actually leave them for three days; the first time I had been away from them since we lost their mother. 

They’ll be eighteen this summer and we’re finally able to breathe. We’re moving forward, the three of us. We’re still broken, but we’re making something new out of the pieces instead of trying to put them back together.

My writing is what saved me. It wasn’t about how many hits/comments/kudos I got; I appreciate every single one I get, believe me. But the writing was making me hold myself accountable, making myself get out of bed, get dressed, brush my hair and teeth, sit down and try. Sometimes that was all I could manage; the writing just wasn’t happening. But it gave me a goal when I needed one. And boy, did I need one.

Thank you all for reading. For those of you that have been there since the beginning and those who just started reading now. For those who faded away from the fandom over time or who left because they didn’t like how the story was going; I wish you well and thanks for reading when you did. Thank you for the hits and the kudos and the comments. You may not have known you were helping to save me, but you were. So thank you.

I am not done writing yet. I am not oblivious; I know I am so far in AU territory now that you’re for all intents and purposes reading original fic. That’s okay. It’s the story that was in my head, that is still in my head. Maybe someday I’ll try to publish it and maybe I won’t, and I’m fine with that. I’m not ready at this point to do what’s necessary to take it past fanfic and that’s okay. It has served and is continuing to serve its purpose for me; if you all enjoy it then that’s just biscuits and gravy, as my Great-Aunt Margie used to say.

I wrote us all a little anniversary ficlet; this takes it full circle for me. (And then back I go to Wu and Qi’s wedding!) 

Mind the warnings at the bottom if you think you need them.

Chapter 132: 252: Wu

[honestsycrets]

Bridal Price VIII: The Final Price

Author’s Notes | this is the last in the series. i feel so accomplished, i’m actually finishing things this year. 

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader

❛ word count | 2067

❛ genre | multiseries

❛ summary | reader clings back onto hvitserk after the death of most of her family. hvitserk speculates whom might have brought on their demise.

❛  warnings | mention of arson, ‘cheating’

Your looms, your beautiful silk from England and fine thread were all gone. The fire devoured everything under your feet. Only dark ash remained. Your father’s body-- your sisters trapped inside, they were all gone. Vaði kept at the ashen site while Hvitserk’s boots kicked through, looking for the right area. You fall upon the ground in your olive green dress, pulling open a small chest of your father’s treasure to go with what little remains that there was left.

“Here.” Hvitserk drops beside you, pushing apart the floors to pull out a chest. He lifts it into his arms while you take to the locks, popping it open and looking at the fine treasure left there.

“I am happy that he died well.” You say, running your finger over the top of the chest. “That way perhaps he went to hel instantly.”

Your father was no warrior. For the war upon Ragnarok, you doubted that Odin would call him to the battlefield. Through it all, Hvitserk had been there. You couldn’t explain why he was. A prince that took Ake into his home to be cared by the healers. She finally seemed to come back to her normal self but… she was burnt. It was anyone’s guess what would come of her.

“He did.” Hvitserk says. “Your sisters as well.”

You glance over to your old fuck buddy, nodding. Vaði had been through to clear the remains before you had gotten here and so you had come through to find your father’s remaining treasure buried away under the floorboards of the home. You retrieve a coin of gold your father had buried away, looking upon the head of Ecbert. He always boasted of going with Ragnar on his raid of Lindisfarne.

“Except for Ake. I will have to keep her with me.” Your voice hinges on fear that he can almost taste on his tongue. What man would take on dual responsibility? “It is unlikely she’ll marry now.”

The burns were… well, extensive. He’d gotten in trouble for pulling the dress of her body, as evidently, he was not supposed to do that. Still now she sat under salves for which the basket around your arm had both yarrow and lily that you would shortly boil in butter to apply as a red salve. Even ribwort that you would later boil in the same for a blue salve.

“Whatever man you find would be lucky to have two seamstresses.” Hvitserk says evenly while tucking the trunk under his arm. He offers you out a hand to help you leap over the ask and grime in your cute flats.

“What changed, Hvit?” You walk slowly with him, setting your palm to his firm bicep. Vaði had given him permission to touch you and bit by bit had you turned back to him. Enough that he could feel less shameful when he touched you.

“What do you mean?” He looks past the ones staring upon you. The streets are full, bustling with life from the Kattegat’s people going on their way. It isn’t as if you could blame them. Life went on. The day was beautiful-- the sky, clear.

“You’re not begging.” You note.

Ah, begging for you to take him back.

“Thought it would be annoying.” Hvitserk answers. You both stop in front of the marketplace, looking out toward everyone that sells their wares. After a moment you signal him closer to those that sell goods from far off places. After such a traumatic past few days, you could use something sweet. Sweet like the cherries imported from Spain. You have a soft sigh on your lips, debating just… what to do or say.

“Thank you, Hvitserk.”

He shifts, glancing to motion behind you. The blacksmith sweeps closer with several large steps, clearing his throat when he’s close enough behind you. You shift on Hvitserk’s arm uncomfortably and he notices as much.

“You’ve chosen to marry Hvitserk?” He rumbles, trembling like your hand around his arm. Hvitserk thinks it strange enough but more so when you look down to your basket without speaking much to him.

“I take it that is why he is touching you.” The blacksmith continues rambling in place, folding one thick arm over another.

“That is the case.” He barks back. Usually he was the man to be quiet, time his responses-- but for some things, there was no timing. He brushes past the blacksmith and carries on his way toward the Great Hall where Aslaug had allowed your sister and you to stay.

“What was that wretched thing about?” He asks. You look aside, running your hand up your forearm along the fine fabric of the dress Queen Aslaug had allowed you to wear.

“He has been pressing me for marriage since father passed.” You explain with prudent concern. A blacksmith was always in good company-- especially one so well known to the Ragnarssons as the one in Kattegat.

“Why did you not tell me?” Hvitserk closes the distance between your bodies. You lift your hand to his firm bicep, looking between him and your ailing sister who lays on a bed of furs.

“I had other concerns.” You say. “And maybe… it would be a good arrangement that I should marry him. We will not have lodging soon and food less so. Marriage is all about alliance, after all.”

“Who said that you would be uncared for? I have no intention on pushing you out.” He explains.

“Your mother is gracious when it comes to her own agenda… but I don’t know where I fit in that.” You expand on it. Of course you knew that Queen Aslaug was a great, merciful woman on any well doing heathen. To live in her home with a crispy, oh bless your Ake, sister? It had to be with intent. Hvitserk sways, looking back to Ake while pursing his lips. The strain brings wrinkles to his chin, the soft curls of his facial hair waving on his jawline.

“Then you will marry me.”

“Hvitserk… I...” You come to your basket beside Ake, taking out the lily and yarrow that you had brought to make her a salve. You hold them in your lap, rolling your lips into your mouth in pensive thought.

“There is something wrong with a man who offers marriage because you are without family!” Hvitserk supplies. “What if he had something to do with it?”

“But I am not sure I want to marry you. You didn’t even remember my name.”

“What is a name anyway?” He turns the corner, kneeling before you. “Names are lost to time. In time no one will remember my father Ragnar Lothbrok or my grandfather Sigurd who slayed Fafnir.”

“You believe in such things?” You could almost laugh.

“The point is not that.” Hvitserk grumbles in a low rumble, sending soft chills up your arms. “The point is… to marry me. Experiences outweigh name. Which, if we are counting, you are (Y/N) daughter of Geir. And I promised your father I would take care of you.”

You glance up, abandoning your pestle to stare into his deep green eyes. Eyes that stand so far apart from the shocking blue ones of his brothers and father. When you were in bed with him, running your hands through his curls fiddling with his hacksilver pendant, you wondered just that sometimes. Then he would laugh and ask what you were looking at, crawling over your body for another round.

“You… what?” You shake your head. “He was alive?”

The admission could have broken you. Hvitserk walks forth.

“There was nothing we could do. He was pinned, dying well. His only dying wish was to care for Ake and you.”

Your head hangs, looking to the lily in your lap. Hvitserk slides down beside you, reaching out to take your hand in his. It’s been a long time since he groveled at your feet. Before Geir died when Vaði considered looking at suitors for you.

“You know I would care for you. Regardless of marriage or dying wishes, but his wishes make it that much more important to carry out.” Hvitserk smooths his thumb over the top of your hand, bringing you to his lips. His moustache tickles the top of your hand as he plants a chaste kiss over the top. You scrunch up your shoulders, head shaking slightly as your eyes bead with wetness.

“I love you, Hvitserk… but you hurt me. How do I know...”

“I know. I know, and I hate that I have that power over you, (Y/N). If I could take it back, I would. I make a terrible boyfriend.” He says. At least he was owning up to it.

If you were signing up for another round of being his last to fuck, you didn’t want this. If you were signing up for days of waiting for his kisses or wondering what woman could twist her hips better, you didn’t want it. You especially didn’t want to be a part of the Ragnarsson’s list of what is hot to fuck and what is not--

“Marry… him…” The voice is a forced whisper. Glancing around, you realize that it’s Ake who speaks, despite Aslaug and Ivar at the corner eavesdropping as was their typical. You glance to them then to your charred sister.

“Huh… what?” You ask her with nothing short of a apprehensive grimace. She turns her head toward you, finally speaking for the first time since the accident occurred.

“He’s stupid, but not a bad man.” She gives a deep sigh. “And we are all tired of hearing you two mope.”

At that you finally do laugh. Behind the leather strapped curtains, you can hear Aslaugh stifling her meek laugh. A chortle can’t help its way out of Ivar’s lips. Hvitserk gleams hopeful eyes at you and so you give a quick nod.

“I’ll marry you, Hvitserk Ragnarsson.”

This time its Hvitserk who lets loose his playful laugh, jerking you up onto your feet. The feeling of being flightless hits you like a bird, and if you were a bird, you would have been an enraged chicken. You don’t quite like being off the ground!

“Hvitserk!”

“Sorry!” Hvitserk says, setting you back down upon the ground. He takes your hands, spinning you in with your hands crossed in front of your chest. Your back collides with his chest. Playfully he nudges you, motioning you to look back to him.

“Kiss me.” He says. Your eyebrow perks at him, as if to say for all his trouble, he should owe you a kiss! “Come, for the price I will have to play for your mundr?”

He had a point. Vaði would most certainly milk that price in order to help Ake get back onto her feet. You lean back toward him, gliding your lips against his for one smooth tongueless kiss. He leans forward aching for more but just as quickly as the kiss began, it ended.

“But--”

“We can save the rest for the wedding.” You say.

“We’ve already fucked!” Hvitserk complains. Quickly spinning out from him, you slip out of the room in a sprint through the Great Hall. Your sandal clad feet thump upon the rough planks, rushing past the guards that kept Ake and you safe. A jaunty gathering of men drink on the many tables.

Hvitserk clicks his tongue angrily, colliding with the hard-- hard iron chest of your cousin who stands like a wall between you and him. What was it with obstacles to his kisses and love today!? Ubbe stands beside him. Sigurd most definitely probably wasn’t that far along either. Vadi folds his arms.

“Now that the blacksmith is taken care of.” Vaði states. His armour, splattered with blood. “We have a bridal price to discuss with Ubbe and Bjorn-- the morgengifu and mundr, right, my new brother?”

“Uhh--”

His pockets were already screaming. The best seamstress in all of Kattegat. He would dare say in all of Midgard! Could he even afford you? Ubbe pulls out his bag of coins, flicking them up into the air and motioning to his belt full of rabbit pelts. A true brother wouldn’t let him pay on his own! He would owe Ubbe for years… but as you stand beside them, wiggling your fingers playfully at him, he wouldn’t take it back for the world.

@two-unbeatable-beaters, @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @titty-teetee, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @piebytheocean, @strangunddurm, @atequilahead, @rekdreams247, @justacrush, @ivarswonderlust, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @dylanowhyyien, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @huntingbears, @my-little-wolfe, @seize-the-droid, @moondustmemories, @colourmeinblue, @ilvebeenabad, @queenmissfit,  @hallowed-heathen, @neeadinghugs, @mblaqgi, , @triumphantreturnofpies, @dmv49, @attorneyl, @iconicvaleria-blog, @lovelynerdytraveler, @tierneygonzalez, @zabee113, @meganjudee, @sdcyumyum, @ms-allenbrown, @pancake-blonde, @ivarswickedqueen, @starkiddreamer, @austenkingmylady, @thisisparadisemylove, @pinkrockstar19, @jeowjungkook, @end-of-night, @yaminax-kuss-a , @gruffle1, @arses21434@natalie-rdr, @tempt-ress, @thevikingsheaux, @poisonedjoinery, @smokealone, @chewythecatus, @laughinglikenialler, @lefrenchfrye, @mybarnesmyhero, @vengefulflange, @imcreepininyourheartbabe, @therealmrshale, @that-goodgirl, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @athroatfullofglass @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434,  @smileyparrots, @Moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102 @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly--canthrope@cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking

[peacefulwriter88]

Change Your Mind

Chris (The Destroyer) X Curvy WoC

Warnings: M for Mature (SMUT), fluff

A/N: This is a build from my original story that I wrote month back called Dust to Dust. I’m fascinated by Chris’ character and decided to not take the same path for his character in the movie. 

The flames are a harsh contrast to the bitter cold wind that whips past him, ices over his ears as he checks on the grilled chicken. The smell of mixed spices takes over his nostrils, distracts him temporarily from the sound of laughter and chatter that escapes from within the town home.

He was meeting your parents for the first time.

Dating for nearly two years and you had broached it casually and cautiously how you wanted to invite them over for dinner. You had been wrapped up in his arms, the short, sparkly gold dress you had opted to wear for New Years Eve gleaming under the moonlight with the faded jean jacket he had thrown over your shoulders, the both of you stepping  out of your friends party to have a moment to yourselves.

He had wanted to say no. This had already gone on long enough - you and him - but every time he mustered an ounce of courage to tell you he was done, looking into your full eyes he always, always backed down. He was ashamed of his weakness - he was no good for you. He saw the questioning glances that your friends shot his way whenever you both entered a room, not understanding how you were so in love with someone like him.

You didn’t care. You told him all the time, convinced him enough to finally move in. To get him to come out and be a part of your world - to meet your friends who wore expensive clothes and drove fancy cars and talked about having mortgages and vacationing in Europe. To host game nights with your brother and your sister, meeting their partners for the first time as you all scarfed down pizza and yelled at the other. You were testing him, getting him comfortable with you, leading up to this moment.

He closes the heavy, metal grill and rubs his hands together, blowing on them. It was only February and the California weather kept shifting from blistery cold to warmth and he was stuck outside with the thin, maroon button down you had kindly asked him to wear for the occasion, one of two of the only nice shirts he owned.

He turns around, watches the way you smile as you chat enthusiastically with your mother and sister, your hands busy chopping radicchio, kale and tomatoes while checking on the cinnamon apples that were cooking nearby. You were wearing a cherry wine dress, long sleeved that flared out around your thighs in a fun teasing way. Thigh high stockings that your mother had clicked her tongue too (“do you really think a girl with your frame should  wear things like that out”) though she complimented the long gold necklace you had paired with it, the long thick waves in your hair. You both planned on going out after, you promised him anywhere he wanted and he wonders if its because you know your parents would never approve of him - that he wasn’t enough and you wanted to take his mind off of the knowledge.

“Mind if I join you?”

The deep, gruff voice comes from your father who’s opened the patio door -  has two beers in his hands as he closes the glass behind him. It mutes the soft indie rock that floats from your living room speakers, leaving the both of them to the muffled sound of cars occasionally passing by, the sound of gas feeding the fire in the grill, birds chirping.

“No, it’d be nice to have company.”

You had your mother's looks, her hips and face shape and eyes and smile, but your personality was just a boxed version of your fathers. Humor and wit that was charming, drew you in knowingly and then an edginess that took you off guard, made you fumble over your words. He even had an intimidating name, Duke, regal and confident.

He had already put his foot in his mouth with the older gentleman five minutes into meeting him. He had no idea how the hell he was supposed to survive a casual conversation while he grilled chicken. Figured he’d pray the chicken would finish before he could figure it out.

“Chicken smells good.”  Duke says now, handing over  the beer to him and he takes it happily, pulls his key chain out to pop open the familiar bottle. Does the same for your father.

“Your daughter is a great cook. It's been marinating overnight, should be good.”  

Duke nods, takes a sip and watches him carefully. Chris shifts, lifting the grill to check on the cooking meat though he knows nothing has changed since he’s checked on it two minutes back. He’s had a gun placed to his head, the threat of death just a click away and he was nowhere near as terrified then as he is now

in this moment.

“What do you do again, Chris?”

Chris looks over at him, places the hood of the grill down.

“I own a small mechanic shop in the county over.”

“Mechanic,” Duke mules the words I’m his mouth, “Trade you learned?”

“I was always fussing around with cars. Ran in my family - my grandfather was a mechanic, my dad. After I got my GED figured might as well take over the shop.” 

“GED?” Duke takes another sip, watches him carefully and Chris nods slowly.

“Yep.”

He’s never felt more ashamed of his life choices than he does in this moment, couldn’t imagine what your dad would do if he knew that there was a duffel bag full of 100′s hiding in the closet upstairs that he’s been trying to figure out how to get out of  the house since Tuesday. Didn’t want to tell him about the two 9mm’s he kept locked up under the bed, that he invested in a whole new security system because he couldn’t trust that Silas and one of his goddamn crew members wouldn’t get the hint that he was done with that life and that he just wanted to be a goddamn mechanic.

“How’d you meet my daughter again?”  

“We were at a bar. She challenged me to pool and nearly won.” Chris takes a sip now, eyeing him and Duke nods slowly, clearing his throat.

“And now you both live together, in this nice house she bought herself after she got promoted to marketing director of  the company she’s been working at, cooking dinner on her grill.”

The bite of it hurts, what he was inferring and Chris sticks a hand into his pocket, flickers his eyes away. He knows what he was thinking.

‘Why are you wasting my daughters time?’

He doesn’t voice it, Chris knows. Knows it’s what most people in your life ask when you pull him into your world happily. He was becoming exhausted of the feeling.

“You’ve impressed her,” Duke chuckles almost skeptically. “You know, my little girl isn’t an easy one to impress. Most men she dates….bore her. But you’ve been stained on her tongue for two years now, wrapped in her heart and I wonder what it is. You seem good enough a man. I can tell you love her at least as much as she loves you. But what can you bring her outside of happiness and a home?”

Duke shakes his head, stares out at the horizon.

“You want me to break up with her.” Chris doesn’t have to question it, knows it and it makes him want to cower upstairs, to sit next to the Akita-Shepherd dog, Apollo, that you both had adopted five months back together and be reminded that something outside of you loved him.

“I want you to be able to be a good man to her. I don’t fucking care that you have a GED and your a mechanic. You’re a working man. But I need to know you can take care of her. Need to know she’ll be okay if she gives herself completely to you. I understand that loving look you both share with each other...it's not going to go away even if you left. I want her to be happy and I want to make sure you can keep her happy.”

It takes Chris off guard, makes him look over at the older man questioningly as he takes another sip. He was raising a white flag, knew that his opinion didn’t matter. He was trying to give his blessing.

“I know I’m not good enough for her but I love her. I’d do anything to keep her happy.”  

Duke looks over at him, gives a faint smile in the waning light.

“Good,” he takes another sip of his beer, hesitates before he asks, “....she tell you yet?”

_____________

Chris  stares down at the small, plastic device that sits on top of the granite bathroom sink, daunting as it unassumingly stares back at him. Bold, blue lines that glare back up through the natural light of your master bathroom, the result undeniable.

Positive.

He had to look for the paper that told him the difference to be sure as he leans over the sink to stare down at the stick. There’s someone playing rap a few houses down, it blares loudly in contrast to the rapid fire Spanish a woman is speaking to another occupant, loud enough for the neighborhood to hear.

He drowns it out. Can’t focus on it when there’s a steady ringing noise that trills in his ears, his hands gripping the counter top, heart pounding in his chest as his lungs expel air out of his mouth like a small leak in a balloon.

You we’re pregnant.

He drinks in the statement in his mind. You were pregnant. You were pregnant with his child. There was a little life in you that he had helped create, a combination of both you and him.

It takes his breath away.

So much so that he has to splash water on his face, stare into the mirror into his blue eyes.

What did this mean for him? For the choices that led him to here? His immediate thought is that he should have fucking broke up with you. Probably should have thrown on that rubber when he treated you to a weekend in Vegas. He fucked up, like he always did, by tainting your body with his seed. How could he leave you if he has too, to ensure your safety now that a child was involved? It was painful enough to try to deny you but now you and a baby?

He doesn’t get enough time to answer– instead he’s distracted by the way the main door slams close, the sound of your footsteps mixed with Apollos smaller ones as he barks enthusiastically as you both slowly make your way up the stairs.  He moves hastily, grabbing the small plastic device and stuffing it back into the box, throwing it back in the basket where you kept your extra shampoo and conditioner and body wash, what he had originally been seeking before his hands had landed on the lightweight box. He closes the cabinet softly, places the body wash on the counter right as you walk into your master bedroom. You had stepped out for a run, something you rarely did but Apollo was so energized he had inspired you to get back into the cardio exercise. You walk to your bed with him devotedly at your side, watching you curiously as you looked down at your phone frowning.  

Your have one headphone in, one out and he can hear the upbeat techno and hip hop music you liked to play occasionally, your hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail as your thin tank top stuck to your sports bra, your torso. Drank in the way the soft material of your workout pants clung to your thick thighs – your ass and your calves and he sighs resignedly.

This was why he couldn’t let go. He belonged to you. Every inch of his being was made to ensure your happiness and he knew, without hesitation that it didn’t matter that you were pregnant because whatever you decided he would support. The decision only partly belonged to him; for as much as it would change everything for him it would change every inch of who you were and his role was to support in any way that meant. It bites at him guiltily that seconds earlier he was plotting how to leave you because when he sees you he wants nothing but the opposite.

Love has truly fucked him over.

He smiles, shaking the guilt away as he walks over to you. Apollo runs to him eagerly, easily jumping up on his legs begging for love that he returns happily before he wraps his arms around you, drawing you flush back into him as he rests his head on your shoulder, kisses your cheek. You yelp – nearly scream and jump out of your skin as you drop your phone, look over at him.

“Goddamn – warning much!?”

You throw him a glaring eye though your voice is teasing and he squeezes you tighter, drawing you closer,

“I thought you heard me moving around in here.”

“No I got distracted by an email…” your voice trails off as you temporarily release your hold over his arms to pull out your headphones, start to wrap it around your phone that’s fallen onto the bed. He wonders if the email has to deal with the baby, confirming your pregnancy as you look back at him and whisper,

“Have you showered and gotten ready yet?”

He smiles at you coyly and you roll your eyes as you lean back into him.

“Christopher Ricks! My parents are going to be here in two hours and we haven’t even started with dinner.”

The small dimple that forms at the bridge of your nose deepens, a tell tale sign that you’re worried. You frown and your voice is doing that soft, whiney thing it does when you want him to do something. Your irises widen, looking at him innocently and he feels his heart stop for a second, his breath gone.

Completely and utterly devoted to you.

“We have enough time honey. We’ve already marinated the chicken and I’m going to grill it when they arrive….everything else will take an hour tops.”

You move your head to the side, watching him carefully before you sigh and nod.

“Okay, you’re probably right...”

You’re not convinced and he moves his hands lower to your hips, squeezing them softly and leaning over to brush his lips against yours. You make a slight moan, eyes flickering back to him as he watches you back carefully before you shift your body to move closer to him. It's only a second before his lips hungrily fall on your own, his tongue dominating over yours as he pulls you back into him, into his growing erection. Your hand has moved to find the back of his head, drawing him closer to him as your mouth tries to dominate over his, your finely manicured nails scraping against his scalp and he hisses into your mouth as he turns you with one swift movement, pushes you back until the back of your calves hit the bed. Your hands move around his neck drawing him closer as he leans you back and you both fall back onto the large king size bed with ease, your laughter ringing high between his kisses as your thighs wrap around his torso. He leans over you, nudging his nose against your own as he stares down at you, at your edges starting to curl at the base of your hair roots, the way your two small dimples dig into the fatty curvature of your cheek.

“I love you. Do you know that?” he whispers seriously, lips brushing against your own and you smile into him, nodding as you wrap your arms around him, drawing him closer.

“I know.”

“I’d die for you. Climb mountains, dive in the deepest darkest part of the of the ocean if it ensured I’d get to spend every waking minute of my life with you.”

You blush, shift your eyes away before you look back up at him. You hated verbal affection when it was directed toward you - had somehow managed to lie and convince yourself that you were unworthy of it and he hates the two large pools of water that linger in your eyes as you smile up at him.

“I didn’t realize I fell in love with a romantic,” you nudge his nose and he juts his hips into you involuntarily, causing you both to groan before you whisper, “But you’re my world Chris. I love you too….love you so much I couldn’t imagine my life without you”

His lips skim down your chin, finding comfort in your neck as his rough hands move toward the hemline of your shirt, tugging on it softly. You try to fight him as he raises the material, try to convince him that you were sweaty and gross but it falls on deaf ears, the fabric pulls over your head, his lips skimming between the apex of your breast which he kisses tenderly before his journey takes him to the softness of your stomach.

He know that you hated it when he lingers too long in the area, your insecurity that your stomach was too big and gross for his liking but he loved the softness to it. He liked the way it felt now as he kisses your skin tenderly and he wonders if the life in you can feel his feathery kisses, knows how lucky it was to have a mother like you that gave a guy like him a second glance.

“I love you, I love you, I love you….”  he says it to no one in particular as your hands rub the top of his buzzed hair, your hands soft as you stroke him affectionately and he moves lower, down to your abdomen which you protest.

“My vagina is so sweaty and so gross….no.” you whine and he chuckles as he looks up at you, at the way you watch him carefully and he nods.

“Fine. Then let's take a shower and clean you up then.”

You look at him, your eyes twinkling before you sit up becoming face to face with him.

“Fine. But you gotta scrub my back.”

“I always scrub your back.” he teases back, nipping at your nose.

_____________

The shower was needed, helped distract his nerves as his hands payed reverence to your body, his name a whisper as your soapy hands fell over his hard torso, scratched down his back as his cock slammed into you. You didn’t mind at all when he came in you, gripping him tightly as you both watched each other lovingly, shaking in the hot steamy water before his head fell into your neck line, breath hitting your decolletage as you gripped him closer.

He wonders when it had started to become a habit, him fucking you bare and cumming in the sweetness of your walls and why either of you had cared enough to think about the consequences.

Perhaps, subconsciously, it's what you’ve both wanted.

The memory is refreshing in the setting sun, and he turns to look back at you. Normally you liked to sip wine when you cooked but you had politely declined after you offered it to your mother and sister, had subconsciously had your hands flit down to your stomach like you did now.

No you hadn’t. Not yet.

“No.”

“Hm….I think she will tonight. Try to act surprised,” Duke finishes his beer, looks over at him. “Don’t break her fucking heart. Or I’ll break your fucking head.”  

He places the  empty beer bottle beside the grill, patting Chris’ shoulder before turning on heels, back into the house.

He’s the first person in your world that’s given him your blessing, told him it’s okay that he could be him and be with you. It gives him hope.

You come out minutes later, a large smile on your face as you shudder, wrapping your arms around yourself as you walk toward him. He opens up the grill, checks on the chicken as you tuck yourself into his arms, nuzzling your face into the side of his chest.

“You’re freezing. Come inside when you’re done checking on the chicken,” you look up at him as you wrap your arms around his body, “have a good conversation with my dad? I know he can come off strong.”

His hands graze lower, stops at your midsection and he rests his hands there, rubbing it tenderly,

“It was fine.”

You nod, resting your head back to the setting sun and looking out into the horizon. He knows he should wait for you to broach, to pretend his ignorant but he knows you, knows that if you haven’t already bought it up it was because you feared his response. The last thing he wanted was you to believe you weren’t enough so he takes a leap.

“How far along are you?” He finally asks and he feels you flinch, to hesitate as he looks down at you.

“Three months.” You finally whisper and he smiles, kissing your forehead.

Definitely a souvenir from Vegas.

“I’ll support you in whatever you choose baby. I love you and I’m not adverse to becoming a father. Not when it means you’re the mother.”

There’s a moment of silence that ripples between you both as you squeeze him. He thinks you’re going to say something - you always had something to say but you don’t.  Instead you smile up at him endearingly, lift on your toes to place a kiss on his lips. He likes these kisses, the ones where your lips nestle between the softness of his goatee and he doesn’t hesitate to capture your lips for his own, to squeeze you back as just as fervently.

The moment is short lived. There’s a knock on the door, Apollo’s barking and your sister enthusiastically lets out, “I’ll get it!” before either of you can move.

He turns just in time to catch Silas in the doorway entrance, smiling at your mom and dad and shaking their hands. Chris feels his heart drop, knows that out there, somewhere in hell is laughing at the notion that he thought he would be safe; that he could keep you safe. Your sister opens the screen door, smiles at the two of you.

“Chris your brother is here. Silas?”

You look up at him curiously as Silas walks behind your sister, drinks in the protective way Chris has wrapped his around you and smiles.

“Hey brother. So nice to see you.”

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[fanficparker]

My Home (Part 15)

Peter Parker x Reader

Part 15… Y/n Y/ln

Word count: 1.51 k words

A/n: Tell me if you want to get added to the TAGLIST of My Home! For more parts see ‘MASTERLIST’ in my profile description! Taglist in the reblogged post. Tell me if you wanna get added :)

Reader’s POV:

It was time, to tell the truth, the complete truth. I took a deep sigh, closing my eyes shut.

It seemed like someone pressed the rewind button, that too in 8x speed, leaving me at the beginning, the very beginning!

"It took centuries to make Chronicom a green, happy planet. We were thankful to our new king who made all this possible. His name was Enoch. He lived 365 years for us, to ensure that his children lived, he was my great great grandfather. He was so much different from his elder brother Kaius, the king of Atlantis, the reason why we were abandoned to a far-flung planet. Enoch was a God for all of us, everyone loved him, everyone prayed day and night so that he could live forever, enlighten all the coming generations. We thought that the prayers were the thing keeping him alive, until one day after 365 years he finally died.

The day was a historical day, everyone was mourning for him, Enoch was considered divine, his death was something beyond belief. We were wrong! He wasn't alive so long, because of him being divine or holy, but because of the 3 rings, he owned. He never wore them, but he was connected to them. The rings were miles, even light years apart from him, but still he could use their powers. He died because someone else found them, 2 of them. Her name was Dorothea, Kauis's only heir. She was close to Enoch, he loved her like a daughter. She used his love to find out the reason for his immortality and succeeded. She captured 2 of the rings that were buried deep inside Chronicom by Enoch. The sudden retrieval of 2 of the 3 rings made Enoch weak, he died of that. Dorothea made herself young again, we thought she would kill all of us, but she rather introduced better food and living for us. I befriended her, she was my far relative. I was just 10 years old and that 200 years old Dorothea who looked like she was 18, was already my best friend. Although I'm 17, I can bet she still looks like 18. There was something in her, that made people believe her. And I loved to hang out with her, to get the spotlight. We became close friends, almost like sisters at least from my side. Everything was going so smooth, but then she finally revealed her plan. She finally found the location of the third and last ring, that was on Earth. So, she sent me here, to retrieve it. Her true intentions weren't to kill our people, but yours. If she gets all the 3 rings, she will make the whole Earth sunk underwater like Atlantis, killing everyone, to take revenge for the people of Atlantis who died, when we were abandoned. I supported her, in this plan. I did support her, I too wanted revenge. Also, she threatened me to kill my family if I fail.

But now after coming here, spending more than four years on this planet, I realized it's not good to kill the current generation because of the mistakes your ancestors did. So I remained silent. Hidden. Trying to adjust in this planet, to make it my home. So that she couldn't complete her intentions and my family won't be hurt. I'm no more like her. I just prayed to meet my family, to go back home, my real home. But, it can't happen."

I was just finished with telling the truth. I didn't even notice Peter's reaction when I heard someone's footsteps behind before I could even turn to see who it was, I felt electrocuted. My body was shivering at an immense rate, making my vision blurry, I turned back to see Fury, Nick Fury?!

This taser is of course not working on two 3-volt lithium batteries, like the normal one, its fucking something higher than 10 volts!

Peter wasn't responding, he was looking at me in disbelief.

Something wrong is going to happen. Wait it's actually happening!

I could pass out within nano-seconds, so I intentionally made my trembling body fall over Peter, secretly sliding that ring into that nearly invisible Spider-man suit pocket.

After that, what else can happen? Who can resist this extreme taser shock?

So... I fainted, even Thor couldn't resist this taser attack, who am I?

Everything went black, just black...!

••• I woke about 15 minutes later! How do I know this? There is a freakin' wall clock, just in front of me. There is a bed, a desk with a flower pot, a wooden floor with a carpet laid, there were lamps, an entirely furnished room!

I didn't know SHIELD prison looked like this?

Just the only negative thing is that I'm tied to a chair.

I'm pretty sure it isn't SHIELD!

And as speaking of SHIELD, I heard the door cracking open revealing Nick Fury.

"I didn't know your prison facilities were so much better than my own bedroom."

"The queen purchased the best facility in New York, till she finds the ring."

"Queen? Ring? Fu-Fury?"

And he laughed at my question, moving his arm towards his face lifting up skin???

And his face showed picture cells, like on an electronic screen.

"You know these photostatic veil made by Selwyn have served a lot of SHIELD and HYDRA agents and now they are serving Chromicoms too."

"Jonah...?! "

That voice was of Jonah, and he pulled off that nano face mask revealing his face.

"Where's Peter??"

"You mean that kid standing with you? I convinced him that you were found guilty of contacting our Queen Dorothea. He appeared so broken when he handed you to us" he explained with a fake pout.

"Asshole," I said trying to get out of the ropes, failing miserably.

"Awww... Young love, so cute"

I turned my head, hearing another voice.

"Dorothea??!"

"Thea, call me Queen Thea!"

That evil Dorothea showed up in front of me, biting an apple held by her hands full of rings and jewellery.

"He is gonna miss you, so sad for him," she said pressing her lips.

"I think we should kill her, your highness, she failed in finding the ring" Jonah spoke up.

"Kill me and you won't even know where the ring is now," I said slightly laughing.

"You already found it" 'Thea' curiously asked keeping her apple down.

"Found it four years ago, just changed my mind, handling it to you"

"What? but you said you were still finding it? " Jonah got confused.

"Can't I lie?" I said tilting my head.

"Where is it now?? " he yelled.

"It's over Jonah. Sending me fake information" Thea said, taking out a sword that was hanging from her armour.

Jonah pleaded not to kill him, but she passed that sword into his abdomen in one go, making him fall on the ground dead. I almost freaked out at this.

"You don't wanna die too right? Tell me where is the last ring?"

"You can't kill me, Thea, you need me to get it for you."

She groaned.

"Then tell where is it?"

"Only after my death."

"You got so uptight living, with these poor humans, but I got a solution to this!" she tittered, moving back.

"What?"

And then with a thud sound, 4 metal walls surrounded me, one of them had a glass window. The ropes were automatically untied with a clicking sound. I rushed up from the chair. I banged through the glass window, only to see Dorothea laughing, faintly. She had a controller in her hand, like a remote control, and in a flash that room looked like an aeroplane, accompanied by the sound of ejection sequence. I peeped through the window only to see the plane's floor beneath my storage pod was opening revealing a big ocean underneath.

It wasn't any facility in New York, it was a freakin' hellicarrier.

"I can find that ring myself, it will be an honour to die in the Atlantic Ocean with our ancestors," she said, watching my storage pod clinging to the side of the opening.

I banged that window with my whole strength, screaming and screaming, but she just watched my pod falling from a great altitude into that ocean.

Due to gravity, my body floated to the roof of the storage pod, making my head bang to its roof. I fell on the floor, unconscious, locked in a storage pod, 8500 metres below the earth surface, somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean.

(TBC) Taglist in the reblogged post. Tell me if you wanna get added :)

[kee-writestrashh]

Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

Summary:  You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events… 

Chapter 47: March Madness

"So, you're not nervous about tomorrow?" You asked, watching your father closely, determined to detect the fear.

He gave a small shrug, "It's out of my hands. The Lord will see me through it."

Ramsay dropped his head to stare at his lap, biting the malicious grin back.

You pinched his hip with your nails, but his smirk only grew.

"Well, I will be there when you wake up. Besides, you have a grandson to teach bad habits to." You said, giving a smile to your father.

"You say that like your grandfather taught you bad habits." Your father chuckled.

"Of course not." You grinned, "only how to spit, cuss, and shotgun a beer can."

"Dad was always good at that." Your mother laughed.

"You're awfully quiet, Ramsay." Eli said across the table, finally turning away from Jeyne.

Ramsay brought his eyes up to give a sweeping glance around the table and shrugged. "Just tired. Been sick."

"My daughter has been good to you? She was always rather mean to Eli when he was sick." Your mother said, giving you a wink.

You gave a derisive snort, "oh whatever. You just babied him too much. Someone had to be mean to him."

"(Y/n), you would threaten to take him around the back of the barn with the twenty two and put him out of his misery." Your mother cried.

"Yeah. I think buckshot would of been more effective." You laughed, beaming at Eli who rolled his eyes at you.

"Well..." Ramsay said slowly, giving you a smirk, "she didn't offer me that option. I might have taken her up on it."

"Anyways, mom, Jeyne and I have set a date. April seventh." Eli said, ears a brilliant shade of red.

"I will be sure to let everyone know. Ruth text me today asking, actually." Your mother said excitedly. "Now, only one more date to set up." She looked between you and Ramsay, "Baby shower."

You gave a small groan, "mom, I don't know! I have too much going on. I'll let you know after I get the bar up and going. But until then, I have no time to worry about anything else."

"Does that include eating?" She asked sternly.

Slightly taken aback you frowned, looking down at your belly, "What are you talking about? I eat all the damn time."

"You're looking a bit underweight for as far along as you are."

"My doctor hasn't told me other wise." You said, getting defensive.

"And when did you see her last?" She asked with a steely glare.

"Well, it's been a couple weeks." You said, trying to remember. "I have an appointment Wednesday afternoon."

"You need to start taking it easy, or you'll end up on bed rest. Your bar can't be more important than your health, or your child's health."

You gave a heated glare at your mother. You knew she meant well, but her words were not what you needed to hear right now. Regardless of how true they were.

"Yes ma'am." You finally said, dropping your eyes.

You hugged your family as you walked with them to the parking lot. Catching your father twice.

"Better not give the doctors shit." You whispered, hugging him tight.

"I won't baby. It'll all be okay." He whispered back, giving you a tight squeeze before letting you go.

"I'll call you when I get to the hospital, so I can sit with mom. Love you guys." You smiled, turning back to Ramsay who stood rigid beside you, gazing at two men who were waiting at your jeep.

You grabbed Eli's hand, keeping him in place until your parents disappeared in their truck. Finally you dropped your brother's hand and grabbed Ramsay's.

Eli fell in step with you, Jeyne on your heels.

"Don't guess you have a gun?" Ramsay muttered to Eli.

"No." Eli responded as the four of you neared the men.

"Where's yours, baby doll?"

"Floorboard. In my purse." You said in a small voice as the smaller man pushed off your hood and walked out to meet your group.

"Bastard." The man said, sneering at Ramsay. You realized it was Locke. The psychic's words making your chest tight and heart drop.

"Very witty." Ramsay said acidly, dropping your hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Your father wants a cut of what you hauled in today." Locke said, rubbing his hands together expectantly.

"Then tell my father he is more than welcome to come collect it from me, on his own. But I don't take orders from the likes of you." Ramsay growled.

You felt a hand grab your wrist and give a tug. You gave a small glance to see it was Eli. You pulled your hand away.

Locke gave a nasty laugh, revealing his yellow teeth, "You don't know the position in which you have found yourself. The Mad Dog, the Dog's bitch, and a little pup on the way." He ran his eyes longingly over your chest.

"Get the fuck out of here, Locke. I know you aren't here on father's orders. I've already spoken to him today. And if you ever look at my wife like that again, you will no longer have eyes. I will make you eat them." Ramsay hissed, pulling his gun.

Locke ran his tongue over his top teeth and held his hands up in surrender "alright, Bastard. But, you've been warned."

"The fuck?" Eli asked as Locke and the second man stalked away.

"Don't worry about it. They must be bored." Ramsay frowned, putting gun away again and turning to Eli, "This really goes against my better judgement, but I need a ride."

"Bit late." Damon smirked, opening the front door.

"Shut it. I'm crashing here tonight. Some things came up. I will explain later." Ramsay snapped, shoving past Damon.

You turned to Eli and Jeyne, "sorry to drag you into being a chauffeur. Thank you, bro. Jeyne, we need to chill sometime. I'd like to get to know my soon to be sister in law. Maybe this weekend or next?"

"I'm sure I can manage that." Jeyne smiled, lacing her hand in Eli's.

"Y'all be safe. Let me know when you get back on post." You called after them with a wave as they climbed back in the car.

You turned and entered the house. Ramsay was sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, and typing away furiously on his phone. Face strained and cigarette hanging from his lips.

You sat beside him, running your hand across his shoulders.

"I'm sorry." You whispered.

"Why?" He asked, looking up from his phone.

"Because that douche is so full of himself he thinks he can call you a bastard and get away with it. I have added him to my list." You said gently.

Ramsay huffed, "soon, baby girl."

Hopefully Ramsay struck quicker than this Locke guy. He had some fucking nerve.

"How'd he know about the robbery?" You asked, sliding your shoes off with a yawn.

"Word travels fast in our community." Ramsay shrugged, rising from the couch and walking into the kitchen.

You glanced over at Damon and Charlotte who had both gone back to their show.

You followed him, watching him pour a glass of whiskey. He took a long drink and pulled a face as he set the glass down on the counter.

You stepped into him, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

"Remember the first time you asked me to dance?" You asked with a fond grin.

He gave a small chuckle, "that I do. It took me a good day to plan it out. Had to go through that damn playlist and time everything just right."

You rested your cheek on his chest and closed your eyes with a big smile.

"I love you, Ramsay."

"I love you too, doll." He hummed, wrapping his arms around you, and swaying with you slowly.

"Why?" You asked, holding onto him tighter.

"I've told you." He replied, resting his chin on the crown of your head. "You need to go to bed."

You held back the yawn with great difficulty.

"Only if you tuck me in and come to bed soon." You finally said.

"I can't promise that. I need to talk with Dame."  He said, glancing at the kitchen door.

"I can hang. And someone needs to go by the house and let Moose out. And feed him." You said, rubbing your eye and then groaning as you remembered you were wearing makeup.

"I'll send the kid. I'm sure he's out driving around anyways." Ramsay said, grabbing his glass, and nudging you to return to the living room.

"So, what happened?" Damon asked, rising from his seat to grab his gaming remote.

"Locke showed up after dinner. He knew which vehicle was ours. So I figured he placed a tracker on it. And if he was watching, I didn't want to risk the safe house. So came here. What's he supposed to be doing? Pull his shit up." Ramsay said, laying out on the couch and resting his head in your lap.

You stroked his hair, and toyed with his ear.

Damon pulled his laptop from under the couch, and opened it up.

"What he say?" Damon asked, lighting a cigarette.

"Said that father wanted a cut of what we got today. Fucking cunt. Made eyes at my wife." Ramsay said bitterly, pushing his head further in your lap.

"Hm... feeling froggy was he?" Damon hummed.

"Yeah, 'bout to knock his ass off that fucking high horse he thinks he's on. Given me shit for the last ten years. My patience is wearing thin."

You said nothing for a long time, but simply sat there watching Damon and Ramsay play games.

"Baby, I need my purse. It's got my gun and my phone. I need my phone. Mom is supposed to call in the morning when dad goes back for surgery." You said, feeling slightly panicky for some reason.

"Okay, doll. I'll send someone to get it." Ramsay said, setting his controller on the ground and closing his eyes.

You continued to stroke his hair until you felt his breathing coming deep and peaceful. His body was feeling warm again.

"Sorry to burden y'all tonight." You said quietly, looking up at Damon and Charlotte.

"No worries, (y/n). I have some clothes that will fit, if you want." Charlotte said with a warm smile.

"It's okay. I'll just steal Ramsay's shirt for the night." You yawned.

"Sure? It's no big deal."

You nodded, drawing in a sharp gasp.

"Rams." You whispered, nudging him.

He didn't move.

"Ramsay wake up. Hurry!" You said urgently.

"What's up?" He grunted, shifting his head slightly.

"Place your hand on my belly! Hurry!"

He pressed his cheek against your belly instead. After a couple moments he opened his eyes, pressing his cheek further into your stomach and sitting as still as he could to feel his son moving.

"Fuck." He whispered, looking up at you.

"Isn't it amazing?!" You whispered excitedly taking in the small sparkle behind his tired eyes.

×××

"Dude, that's your mom?" Alyn asked, watching the redhead walk out the door with a giggly, stoned Tyene.

"Yeah, what of it?" Matt said, giving Alyn a hard look.

"I'm totally gonna bang her. Might even make you call me dad." He chuckled.

Matt went red in the face, and without warning flung himself on Alyn.

You nudged Ramsay, who sat there watching Matt lay into Alyn with a gleeful smirk.

"Stop it." You hissed at your husband. He gave you a look, rolled his eyes, set his glass down, and pulled Matt off Alyn.

Alyn remained on the floor, pinching his bleeding nose and laughed.

"Does the carpet match the drapes? I mean I'm fucking her either way, but I love when they're natural."

"You're a piece of shit!" Matt raged, struggling against Ramsay, who shoved him in a chair.

"Got some quick hands there kid. You should come spar with me at the gym." Ramsay chuckled, sitting on Matt.

"Get off, man!" Matt hissed, pushing on Ramsay.

"Calm down kid and I'll get up. But don't get upset. So what if Alyn fucks your mom? It's not like he's some fucking stranger. I'll make him be good to her. He's not really a freak. He a heart throbbing romantic."

Matt heaved a sigh, but quit struggling. Ramsay got up and resumed his seat beside you. He pulled you into him and buried his face in your hair.

You watched Matt stand up and hold his hand out to Alyn. Alyn took Matt's hand and let him pull him up. Alyn clapped him on the shoulder and gave a grin.

"No hard feelings, kid."

The saying that March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb was holding true this year. One week into the month and thunderstorms had raked the city. But, it was nice. The weather was warming nicely and the opening day for your bar was drawing ever closer.

Your father's surgery went without problems and your mother said he was recovering fine. He was just restless and irritable because he had to be still for longer than ten seconds. It was driving him crazy.

It was as if your mother had seen you getting sick, because your doctor had fussed about your drop in weight, but you really weren't sure what to do, you ate all day it seemed. Ramsay had apparently given you his cold, but it was much harder on your pregnant body than it had been on him.

You sniffed, frowning at the empty tissue box on the coffee table in front if you. You pulled the blanket tighter around you with a small groan.

"Hey, lil' mama." Tyene's voice said brightly from the kitchen.

You groaned, pulling the blanket up over your head.

"Matt and I are here with some pick-me-ups." Tyene said, her voice quieter now that she was near you.

You heard a plastic bag set on the coffee table, and slowly pulled the blanket down from your eyes.

"Mama made some chicken noodle soup for you, and we picked up more Kleenex, and Matt nicked some meds from the pharmacy to help with your nausea. Don't worry, I made sure they are safe for pregnancy. And more Tylenol." Tyene said, taking a seat beside you. You pulled your legs up to give her more room. "Oh, and Ramsay gave me your favorite ice cream combination, if you feel up to eating ice cream. Matt out it up when we came in."

You gave a weak smile, "You guys are the best."

"So you're not feeling any better?" She asked giving you a sympathetic smile. "Matt! Get a spoon!"

Matt entered a few moments later with a spoon and Moose. You sat up, taking the spoon and pulling the container of chicken noodle soup. You opened it and gave a sniff.

"Oh my god. This smells wonderful. But, no... I feel like shit. Everything hurts, and the baby keeps playing acrobat. I can't get comfortable, or sleep very long when I do." You sighed, taking a bite of the soup. It was like it warmed your soul. "Any idea where Rams is?"

Matt shook his head, "Said something about Theon, but that was it."

"Of course. I'm about ready to go and just kill him. I'm tired of Ramsay cheating on me with him."

Tyene snorted, flipping on the TV and pulling her phone out.

There was silence for awhile, as Tyene played on her phone, you ate your soup, and Matt played with Moose.

Moose had grown by leaps and bounds. You were afraid he would knock you over in his puppy excitement. He already reached your chest with his front paws when he would jump up on you. But he was a sweetheart, much to Ramsay's disappointment. You were glad, he didn't make you worry about how he would act once your son was born. He liked to rest his massive head on your belly when Baby B was being active inside you.

Tyene pulled a bottle of soda from the bag and was taking a sip when she gasped and choked.

"What?" You asked, feeling a bit afraid.

"Mkay, so check it. Lannister murder trial. Don't know if you've been keeping up. Anyways, papa is very interested in it. Even took the stand to vouch for the mini one. Well apparently, sometime last night Tyrion was released from his cell and... killed Tywin! Tywin Lannister is dead!" Tyene said, eyes running back and forth over her phone screen as she read and reread the article.

"Well that trial was shit. I know Tyrion didn't do it. We all do. But I hope he was the one who killed his bitch ass father. What a blow to them. The whole organization is going to crumble without his iron fist. There's about to be chaos in the streets. We need to be careful. I wonder if Ramsay knows?" You said, sipping the soup juice slowly, pondering the information.

"Maybe it's the break we have all been needing. I need to go. Matt, take me home?" Tyene said, standing quickly and pocketing her phone.

"Yeah, sure." Matt said, standing too. He gave you a glance, "Need anything?"

"No, thank you. You both have done so much already. I'll be good until Rams gets home. Y'all be safe." You smiled. Matt nodded, took Tyene's hand, and they both left.

You finished your soup in silence, blindly watching whatever the hell this was on TV. Moose sat, staring at you, waiting on you to give him the okay to get up on the couch. You grinned at him. You set the bowl down and adjusted your blanket.

"Well come on, you monster." You coaxed.

Moose crawled up on the couch with you and buried his head in your blanket.

You stroked his back, closing your eyes, "I think Kira woulda liked you...."

"Baby girl, how are you feeling?" Ramsay asked gently.

You opened your eyes a bit to find Ramsay kneeling down beside you. He placed his cold hand to your hot cheek. It was almost painful as the two temperatures met.

"I'm okay." You muttered through a dry mouth, closing your tired eyes again.

"I'm going to give the mutt a bath and then I'll make you dinner."

"I'm not hungry, baby." You sighed.

"I didn't ask." He said sternly.

"Yes sir." You mumbled, rolling over away from him.

You were drifting back off into sleep when suddenly you were back in the graveyard. This time it was pouring rain. You stood there staring at a headstone, the soft earth of freshly packed dirt, thick and muddy on your shoes...

No! It's just a dream. Wake up, (y/n)!

You sat up with a yelp, looking around quickly.

"What's wrong?" Ramsay asked, standing in the kitchen doorway.

You gave a relieved sigh, and placed your hand on your belly, "nothing. Just a bad dream. Sorry to scare you."

"Well, get up. Dinner is ready. And after I'll help you bathe." Ramsay replied, disappearing back into the kitchen.

With blankets still pulled tight around you, you slowly made your way to the kitchen, pushing the muscle aches away.

You picked at your dinner with a frown.

"Might as well just eat. You aren't leaving until I'm satisfied." Ramsay finally said, popping the top if his beer can.

"Did you see about the Lannister's?" You asked, glancing up at your husband.

"Mhm. Damon told me, earlier. Waiting to hear what my father says on the matter."

"Why?" You asked before you could stop yourself.

"Why what?" He asked, crinkling his brow.

"Nothing." You said, busying yourself with your food.

"You know,  I'm not always impulsive. I'm not an idiot. I wait and watch before I make my move. Most of the time." Ramsay said, rising from his seat and stretching deeply.

"I know baby, just wondered why your father's opinion mattered?" You said slowly.

"Oh, it doesn't. Just curious." He shrugged, "Aren't you supposed to be setting up interviews?"

"Yeah, Oly has done a few. If I feel better tomorrow I'll go help. All of our furniture and appliances will be here in a few days. Ah, I'm so excited, baby!"

"Well, don't overdo it. Lemme help you get clean and get you in bed."

You followed Ramsay down the hall to the bathroom.

He took your blanket, "Get undressed."

You pulled your shirt off as Ramsay left the room with the blanket.

"I know they say you shouldn't have a bath while pregnant. But you look like you need one. I'm sure one bath won't hurt you." Ramsay said, rolling his sleeves up and running his warm hands over your chill bumps.

You gave a nod.

"Why are you sweet like this sometimes?" You asked, as Ramsay helped dry your skin. Finally, feeling better and not fevered for the first time in three days.

"Because I love you." Ramsay smirked, kissing your forehead.

"I feel like there has to be a catch that will someday bite me in the ass." You said with a small grin.

"And why would I mistreat the mother of my son?" He chuckled.

"And what is your son's name?" Hoping to catch him unawares so he would tell you.

"Due time, doll." He whispered in your ear as he led you to the bedroom.

"Please tell me. It's killing me. I want to start calling him by his name." You pouted.

"Due time." He chuckled as he pulled the blankets back from the bed and helped you climb in, "I'll be right back."

He came back with your blanket and piled it on you. Fresh out of the dryer.

"You are the best." You hummed appreciatively, pulling the warm blanket in closer.

"Well I'm about to get a whole lot better." He smirked, stripping off his shirt and crawling under your blankets.

You pushed your head back into your pillow and closed your eyes tight as he kissed up your thigh with warm, gentle kisses.

"This is definitely going to come back and bite me in the ass." You giggled, as he ran his scruffy jaw over your skin.

"Really though, why do you think that?" He asked, biting at your skin.

"Because that's what you do, baby. You let me fall into this false security that you're a gentle, loving husband, and then..." You began, losing your words as he shoved his tongue inside you.

"You hurt my feelings, baby girl. You are the world to me." He hummed, running his tongue over your folds.

"Will you love me?" You asked, tangling your hands in his hair.

"I can't." He whispered, pushing his tongue in you again.

"You can. Please baby." You panted, desire and warm comfort beginning to form.

"Just hush and let me do my thing or I may cause pain." He growled.

You moaned, arching your back as he fucked you slowly with his tongue. You clawed at his shoulder as your high began to mount quickly.

It was going to happen a lot quicker than you wanted. But it just felt so good, after being sick for days.

You dug your nails into his shoulder, "Baby. I'm... oh god." You sighed in a strangled voice as he lapped atg your wetness, pushing his face further between your legs.

The air left your chest as you tried to swallow the moan and felt your body tense and relax as you buzzing high hit you. You gave a violent shiver and let out a small laugh.

Ramsay pulled away from you with a small squelching sound as he smacked his lips.

"Hurry up and get better so you can repay the favor." He chuckled, untangling himself from the blankets.

He laid beside you, staring up at the ceiling. You stared at him. Watching him lick what was left of you off of his mouth.

"Do you believe in psychics?" You asked, remembering your nightmare.

He snorted in amusement, "No. Just a bunch of weird, lucky guess work. I believe in nothing."

You sighed, "Yeah, I guess."

×××

"Well, that's it. That's all of them." Olyvar said, checking off the last application.

"I think our staff will be awesome." You said, beaming at Tyene and Olyvar, standing from your seat. The two Kings men Roose had sent to be employed at your bar left through the front doors without a word to you. You saw them milling around under the awning, smoking, and exchanging words.

"Oh my God! This is so exciting!" You practically squealed, hugging Olyvar tight. "Two and a half weeks!"

You heard your phone ring across the room. You slowly made your way across the freshly polished floors with a wide smile, fingering the new stools and tables.

Your new bar was perfect in every sense. your phone rang again. You picked it up.

Rams.

"Hey baby." you said with a smile.

"(y/n)! where are you?!" he shouted on the other end.

Your smile dropped, "the bar, we..."

"Who is there?" he cut across you.

"Me, Oly, Tyene, and a couple of your fathers men."

"Fucking christ. Baby girl, listen to me. Get out of there. Now. Don't let the kings see you. I am sending you an address, get to it, asap. You have twenty minutes."

There was a click.

Panic bit at your throat as you swallowed. You had never heard Ramsay sound panicked at anything before. A message popped up bringing you back to the world as your phone dinged and vibrated in your hand.

"Oly, Ty, we need to leave. Now." you whispered, glancing around, pulling your gun from your purse.

"What's wrong?" Olyvar asked, as they hurried to your side.

"I don't know, but Rams said not to let the kings see us. through the side. come on." you said, seeing the two men out the front window.

Tyene helped you into your jeep and you turned the motor over.

"Put this address in your phone." you said, shoving your phone at Olyvar, setting your gun in your lap, as Tyene closed her door behind you.

Ramsay rushed you when you walked in. He tangled his hands in your hair and pulled you close.

"Any problems? Were you followed?" he whispered, kissing your forehead.

You shook your head as he pulled away from you, his body shaking slightly against you.

You took him in. Covered in blood. Realizing he had been shot in the leg.

"Oh baby!" You cried, quickly running your eyes over the rest of him.

"It's fine. I'll have it taken care of." He said dismissively, but a deep grimace on his face.

"Baby, what's going on?" You asked looking around.

"Matt!" Tyene cried, running over to Matt who was half laying on a couch, groaning in pain, clutching his arm.

"I don't know yet. But shit just went fucking stupid." Ramsay said, pulling you into him again.

Ben walked in, looking exhausted and upset. He gave Ramsay a small nod, "We recovered him before anyone else could get to him." His voice was strained and sounded as if he were battling tears as he cleared his throat and looked away from Ramsay, crossing over to Matt and Tyene.

"Where's Alyn?" you asked.

"Having bullets dug out of him." Ramsay replied in a small voice that did not sound like him at all.

You heard screaming from another room.

"Damon?"

Ramsay said nothing, dropping his head slightly.

You gasped, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at you, "Baby, where is Damon?"

You felt his jaw lock under your hands, as he brought his eyes to yours. Still, he said nothing.

[spoopy-imagines-writer]

Shamrock Shore

Original Request: Okay this one is for Murphy and Reader is Doc’s granddaughter visiting from another country (The Boys don’t know her yet)! Soulmate AU’s: 1) If your soulmate dyes their hair, your eyes turn into that color and you wish your soulmate wouldn’t change it again because you really like this shade in your eyes. 2) Your tattoo is like a mood ring, it changes its color depending on what your soulmate is feeling at the moment and you’re not sure exactly what rainbow means. Okay thank you for your time! - @meadow-melody

Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: Just feels for this one, mentions of canon character deaths

Song: Paddy’s Green Shamrock Shore by The High Kings

A/N: Part three of “Wild Mountain Thyme”! This is the second to last part, and I’m pretty sure this is my favorite. Hope you guys enjoy! -Jo

Although your relationship with Murphy had been going great, you still had yet to tell him that you were soul mates. That night, and the others, spent in that blanket fort were always shrouded in darkness. He never saw the mark on your left wrist. Despite that, things were going almost too well. Connor had accepted your relationship with his brother with a giant hug. Your grandad accepted Murphy as your boyfriend, but not without a few threats to be bashed in the head with his cane should you ever get hurt.

You would spend hours just talking. He told you of his Da back home, the sheep farm they’d worked on. You told him of your parents, why you wanted to move back to Boston in the first place. You talked favorite colors, places you’d both like to go. You talked about everything.

Everything, except the jobs he and his brother pulled. You knew what they were doing, but he didn’t want you to know the details so no one would be able to use you against him.

You were polishing silverware in one of the booths when Greenly burst through the doors of McGinty’s with his hands around his crotch. “Sack-o-matic, I said!” You all chuckled lightly at his happy attitude before a loud bang went off. Greenly went flying forwards. Connor and Murphy dove over the bar. Doc fell to the ground. Shots rang out. Glass exploded.

You had a gun to your head and a knife to your throat.

You heard one of the boys counting and they popped up simultaneously while your grandad shouted, “Boys, boys!”

A curse escaped your lips and you felt blood trickle down the throat as the asshole holding you down pressed it deeper. Murphy’s knuckles were white as he gripped his gun tighter than before.

Asshole waved his gun, passing from Murphy, to Connor, and finally back to your soul mate. “Put ‘em down! Throw them over.” They hesitated and the guy took that as a sign of defiance. He pressed the barrel of the gun hard against your neck. “I’ll kill the girl, throw them over!”

You looked both of the boys in the eyes and shook your head slightly. No way were they gonna let this asshole get away with what he’s done.

The small movement you made was enough for the knife to dig deeper still against your throat. Not deep enough to do major damage, but enough that more blood was drawn. Your arm burned as Murphy’s fear for you increased. Connor patted Murphy’s shoulder and they both tossed their guns and put their hands up.

The creep behind you laughed quietly, his breath on the bath of your neck making your skin crawl. His hold tightened. “Oh we’re gonna have some fun.” Your eyes stayed on Murphy the whole time, his purple-eyed gaze also locked on you. The creep pointed his gun back at the boys. “So which one first, huh?” he said to you. “Which one you love more? Ah, this one?!” The gun finally settled on Murphy for longer than you’d have liked and your fear increased tenfold.

Murphy rubbed at his arm but he didn’t dare take his eyes from the gun. You could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to find any way to incapacitate-

The guy released his hold on you as he cried out clutching his hand. You realized too late that another gun had fired from the dark room towards the back of the bar. Out stepped an older man in dark clothes, his face mostly covered in his bushy gray beard. You knew from the boys’ stories that this man was Il Duce himself, Noah MacManus.

“Doc call the fucking ambulance right now!” Connor shouted.

You stumbled to your grandfather to make sure he was alright, the boys rushing to Greenly. Your mind was too foggy to understand what just happened. Your eyes started to go blurry in the corners and you swore you heard someone calling your name, but then your vision went sideways. And then it was dark.

The first thing you noticed when you came to should have been the hand holding yours. Instead you immediately recognized a smell that was distinctly Murphy, you must have been in his bed upstairs. Your mind immediately went back to what happened at the bar. “I’m gonna have a hell of a mess to clean up.”

The person holding your hand snorted. “Of course. A near-death experience isn’t enough to make you relax for a while.” You looked over and saw Murphy shaking his head.

“Murph,” you smiled. You pulled your hand away from his and sat up. You felt the bandage on your throat, only to froze when you realized which hand it was, and someone had changed you into an oversized t-shirt.

He cleared his throat. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?” He had his long sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and you could clearly see the soul mate mark on his left wrist. You looked down at yours and the color… The color was all of them. It was a myriad of blues, purples, yellows, grays… There was a red hue throughout though.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you weighed your options. You could lie, say that you didn’t know he had the same mark, although he’d openly showed you his mark several times. You could tell the truth. You could dodge the question entirely, which might work for a few minutes. “Uh… yeah actually. Did you know that the name Cerberus technically means-“

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?” You clasped your hands together. Then you remembered one thing more clearly than the others, and you felt like shit for not thinking about it before. “… Greenly?” you asked solemnly.

Murphy looked down. “He didn’t make it, lass. He’s gone.” His voice was quiet and filled with pain.

“Oh Murph…” You reached out to pull him close to you, and he held you tightly regardless of not being sure how he felt in that moment about how you handled everything. Despite what happened, he still knew he loved you. You felt him shaking, and you rubbed his back whispering that everything will be okay.

“The bastard that did this,” he said quietly, “Da killed him.”

“Good…” You sighed, knowing you had to fess up. “Murphy-“

“You could have told me. Any time, you could have told me. But you didn’t.” He looked you in the eyes. “I just want to know why-“

“About time you woke up, sleeping beauty!” Murphy released you when his brother burst through the door with beers and pizza. He dropped them on the pool table and bent down to hug you. “I’m glad to see you’re okay, lass. How are ya feeling?”

“I’ll feel better when someone tells me who changed me into another shirt.”

He pulled away and chuckled nervously. Murphy jumped in before Connor could answer. “I didn’t think you’d want to wake up with your shirt caked in blood, I gave you one of mine.” His voice was serious but he managed a small smirk. “Besides, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

You playfully glared at him. Connor took that as his cue. “I’m gonna go let Doc know you’re awake.” He shared a look with his brother before he turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

“Why didn’t you want me to know?” He didn’t want to waste any time. You knew he deserved some answers.

“I… was scared.” He looked like he was going to say something. “Not scared of you, Murph. But I knew that you were going to leave again once you cleared your names. And I’d have to go back to my life before you. It was going to be hard enough knowing how I feel about you without the mark.”

He thought about that for a long moment. He took your hand back in his, running his fingers over the soul mate mark, watching as it finally settled back onto one color.

Gray.

“Why are you scared?” you whispered.

“Because you’re right. We can’t stay here forever.”

Over the next few weeks you got to know the boys’ da better. He liked that you had a handle on his boys. You made him laugh when you’d get stern with them, and even him from time to time. He grew to see you as a daughter, and he told you once that he couldn’t have picked a better match for Murphy.

The rest of your time was spent with Murphy. It didn’t matter that you’d kept that you were soul mates secret from him because of the relationship you’d already developed without it. It only grew stronger, and when the time came for the boys to go after The Italian you refused to stop touching him until it was time for them to drive away.

You hugged Romeo, making him promise to watch his own back along with the boys’. He promised and got in the van. You hugged Connor tightly next. “Take care of yourself, lass. Or else I’ll never hear the end of it from that one.”

You smiled sadly at him, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “I will, you too. Or I’ll kick your ass, MacManus.” He grinned and kissed your head, going over to stand with Romeo. You turned to the patriarch MacManus just as he finished saying goodbye to Eunice, who said her quiet goodbyes to the boys. “Be careful, Da.”

He hugged you tightly. “We will, lass.” He pulled away to grip your shoulder to look squarely at you. “I always wanted a daughter, and I couldn’t ask for a better one when I got you.”

You blinked back the tears and kissed his cheek. “This isn’t goodbye, old man.”

He smiled slightly and touched your chin. “We’ll call you when we can.”

Finally you turned to Murphy. The tears you’d been choking back finally came to a head and spilled down your cheeks. He pulled you to him tightly, his hand going to the back of your head and your arms wrapped fully around his waist. He kissed your ear. “You just said, it’s not goodbye.”

“I know,” you whispered, “but Murph… I don’t have a good feeling about this. You’d better come back to me, understand? Or else…”

He laughed when he realized you couldn’t think of what to say. “Or else what?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I already threatened to kick Connor’s ass. It’d be redundant if I threatened you too.”

“Aye.” He smiled sadly at you, and you knew it was time. “I love you, Y/n,”

You leaned up and kissed him hard, pouring everything you were feeling into it. He did the same. “I love you too, Murphy. Come home to me. I’ll even keep the fort up for you.”

“You’d better.” He ran his hand over your hair. “We’ll call when we it’s done.”

“You’d better,” you whispered. He kissed you one last time before turning around to get in the car. Not once did he look back, but you knew if he did he might not leave.

“I don’t know about you,” Eunice said as she came up behind you, “but I need a drink. What do you think, bartender? Just one drink before I have to go into hiding.”

You nodded, feeling the need to drink yourself.

You were taking a break from cleaning, picking at the guitar you’d picked up from a thrift shop. It was serving to distract you from worrying about the boys, but the longer it took to hear from them, the less it worked. You tried to play the guitar in earnest. You winced when you hit the wrong chord, it had been so long since you’d played. You began singing softly.

So fare thee well My own true love I’ll think of you night and day A place in my mind You will surely find Although I am so far away-

The sharp ring of the phone cut through the air. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you’d moved faster. “Hello? Murphy? Connor?”

“Y/n….” The voice on the other end was female, and you knew it well enough to recognize the regret in her voice. “It’s Eunice, sweetie…”

You ran your hand through your hair nervously. “Eunice, tell me they’re alive. At least give me that.”

“The boys are alive,” she said quietly. You breathed out a sigh of relief, until her next words froze you. “But they got caught, sweetie. From what I heard all three of them were in rough shape.”

“… Three?”

She took a shaky breath. “Noah didn’t make it out.”

Your legs gave out underneath you. “Oh God…”

“They have Connor, Murphy, and Romeo in a federal prison. I have no idea where, I don’t know how they’re doing. I should be gone by now but…” She sighed. “I needed to let you know what I knew.”

You could feel the lump rising in your throat and swallowed thickly. “Eunice, is it safe for you to be calling me?”

“I’m using a payphone. I have to go… I’ll try to keep in touch, okay?”

“Yeah… Of course. Be safe, Eunice.”

“You too, Y/n.” The line went dead.

 You sunk down to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest and you cried. You cried until you could no longer feel your face, your throat was sore. The phone rang again but you no longer cared. Whoever it was on the other end of the line wasn’t who you needed it to be. But the phone just kept incessantly ringing while you waited until the other person gave up trying to call.

It continued to ring though, and you had enough. You angrily grabbed the phone from your bedside table and flipped it open. “What.”

“Hello Miss Y/l/n, I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever answer your phone.” A smug, male voice said on the other line.

You were so not in the mood for this shit. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Is that any way to speak to the guy who’s gonna help bust your boyfriend and his brother out of prison?”

You instantly shot up in your bed, your back ram-rod straight as this man mentioned Connor and Murphy. “You have my attention.”

“My name is Paul Smecker, and this is what I need you to do for me.”

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