#bc i kept pausing to take notes

[actual-sleeping-beauty]

Hmm so as a chaos CST insomniac the question is now whether I go to bed now at midnight and wake up early or try to turn my six pages of notes about this movie into a coherent reflection report now

[jinkiezzsstuff]

In Season

alastor x doe! femreader

no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx

Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED

Word count: 5K

You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.

But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.

Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.

Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.

It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.

Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.

~

Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.

There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.

Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.

You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.

Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.

Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.

Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.

The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.

You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.

No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”

Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.

You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.

Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.

“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”

After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.

“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.

Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.

The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.

It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.

“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”

Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.

You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.

You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.

You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.

As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.

Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.

The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.

You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.

Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.

You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”

You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.

“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.

He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.

One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.

You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.

He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.

He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.

“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.

He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”

Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.

Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.

Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.

His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.

You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.

Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.

“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”

Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.

You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.

He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.

You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.

Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.

So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.

“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.

With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.

You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.

Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.

Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.

Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.

Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.

Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.

Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.

One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.

You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.

Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.

Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.

You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.

Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.

And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.

Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.

“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.

Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.

[controld3vil]

i'll hex you, i'll possess you

pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen x wife!reader, aemond "one eye" targaryen x reader (unrequited/one sided)

synopsis: Your husband is gone. He perished in whatever was left of the battle, seared flesh, and dragon’s tar. As unbearable as it was, you fight for his throne against his brother. Believing it is for his for the taking.

notes: mentions of s02ep05, i fr feel so bad for aegon :( also cw: hints of obsessed!aemond (bc he's insane :D)

In quite a haste, you sped past all the onlookers like flies. They were nonexistent in your peripherals, your attention was entirely up ahead to the King’s chambers, the Kingsguards who stood by. Your Grace, they would say before allowing you passage past their protection. You took a glimpse, here in the dressing room for the King. Your King.

“Your Grace!” The seamstress chirped, turning to greet your lovely smile. And your righteous presence everywhere you went. It affected all now that you were the face of King’s Landing. It’s a hefty duty, yes, however, it seemed many subjects were willing, if not encouraged, of your subsequent role as the consoling figure for the realm to look to.

In front of a tall mirror was Aegon, in full Valyrian armor. You’d guessed the armor was passed down through his ancestral line, ancient, and beautiful it was kept. All the plates fit him perfectly with little alterations to adjust. Yet absent of the signature helmet paired with it, his blonde hair lay just above his shoulders, gently. 

Ever so kind were your visage toward the King. You could feel the corners of your lips curve warmly at the sight of him. He was handsome and eager to appease the people of his kingdom. Though he may not be the first choice for Throne, you knew he was trying his best to uphold the responsibilities and burden those must bear. You would have to bear it as well if you were Queen. 

“Good morrow,” You breathed, flattening the wrinkles of your dress as an excuse to eye at Aegon, openly. There was nothing to hide, simply it was different from his normal attire. In armor, in all of your lifetime, you never had to experience warfare, for better or worse. 

“Ah, my lovely wife!” In exclamation, your husband turns to compliment your captivating smile as he gleams contentedly. He takes a few steps down from the small stairway from the miniature podium, while some of his personal Kingsguard can be heard snickering. Which you wholeheartedly ignored as your attention laid straight to your King’s beaming face. “Just who I wanted to see!”

“I must speak with you,” Through your expressed delightfulness, the tone of your voice is quickly replaced with a sour one. And it seemed to have caught the attention of the seamstress and others in the room as they all paused at your subtle notion of privacy. “Alone.” Only when you mention it, it’s as though they were a flock of birds, all fleeing from the chambers at once. A few clatters and suddenly the doors were quietly slammed shut with a whisper of a demand. 

However, your husband did not seem fazed at all. He merely shrugged, casually walking to fill a cup or two with wine. Yet a visible glower can be caught right after he steps off the podium and to the table of beverages. Sometimes his reaction to your urgency was comedic. The King was never one to take duties earnestly. It’s one of his eminent flaws that all of the townsfolk and servants knew of. His days by the Silk Roads were but a regular story. But now, he is a changed man, Aegon thinks. They’ve witnessed all of his mistakes and tourneys. He’s young and has never been as interested in duty as his siblings. And now suddenly, he was pulled onto the seat as King. And you would have to sit beside him and watch. As a graceful symbol yet mute on what to say on any matter. 

How horrendous was that? 

“What troubles you, my sweet?” The sound of liquid plops as all of the noise from the outside world becomes muffled. For the past few days, it has been the most chaotic and tragic period of your life. Not just for you and Aegon, but everyone in King’s Landing. Your son, Jaehaerys, was left for dead at the hands of a murderer and false ruler. Panic was running through the streets of Flea Bottom. People questioned the King’s cruel punishment of the rat catchers though Aegon did not care for their grief. 

To you, it was more than sadness. But anger and confusion, all of your pent-up emotions ever since living in King’s Landing have made you become this way. The Capital has changed you. To who you were as a person and figure of nobility. Now you were suddenly the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, yet only moments ago, you were the princess of the firstborn son of the King. You should have expected war to come between siblings over the throne, yet your father persisted that the marriage would’ve led to success. Having lost your child, your son, made the promise to communicate more to Aegon. To somehow seek solace in the empty void of your heart in whatever left the world had. 

“You named Ser Criston Cole your Hand…” You mumbled slowly, the last words faded out into thin air. Was he wrong to do so? You did not want to say. For the little you knew about the battle being played at hand, you knew Aegon’s impulsiveness would come to the cost of many. Especially of the Council when they have refused relentlessly his thoughts and suggestions. So perhaps this decision would cause more upbringing for the noblemen to bleat about. “Why?”

A muffled sound and then a snort comes out of his mouth as Aegon proceeds to sip his wine. As if not a care of the world or your concern over the matter. “And why does this concern you?” 

He does the courtesy to hand you your cup, as you clasped it eagerly to swallow whatever worry your heart must feel. The Queen Regent, Aegon’s brother, Aemond, and even Criston Cole, all look for you in the guidance you have over their King. You’ve yet to make it clear that you don’t control him like many others would consider to do. You’d think it's heartless to manipulate a man of his feelings, especially your husband. 

Eventually, you lay the cup down, trailing your finger around the outer details of the golden goblet. It’s glimmering through the sun, carefully designed with outlines of a dragon and flames that surround the jugular of the base of the cup. It curves and twists under your palm as you proceed to swirl the liquid inside and watch as a mini typhoon is formed. 

“Do you believe your decision on making him Hand was just?” You lift your gaze to be met with his bright purple eyes. It always seemed intense and vivid in color whenever his attention was on you. As if you were the only person that mattered in the room. And if not at this moment.

You looked ravishing, decorated in his house colors with pops of gold from the jewelry and headwear. You had no shame in exemplifying wealth because he would give you everything willingly. No matter the cost or debt, every piece of gold, and diamond was meant to be yours. He watches as your golden droplet earrings jingle when you shake your head, contemplating your next words. “Because I do not think that was the wisest decision to be made, husband.”

“And, care to explain why?” Like every little piece of his childhood, Aegon looks at every objective like a game. Though he looked like he was trying to resist your hesitancy for his new Hand, he was staring into space at the glorious jewels that make your figure and face pop out more. 

You urged, before meeting the King by the tableside where the pitcher lay. “He is a warrior, not a politician,” You set your goblet aside, to look your husband in the eye more closely. “He does not know the ways of the people, especially those who he surrounds himself with. He was born lowborn, making him more naive than aware of tellings.” 

Yes, you make great points, he would say if you did not have that adorable scowl on your face. Aegon would admit, he was getting drunk by the minute. And your presence did not help in his regard to be sober. Regardless, he does take account of your calls, more than most that surround himself with. Everyone at the Council is eager to spout their plans and news, it makes him deaf to the ear when they have nothing to contribute when he suggests something. Nevertheless, you at least are supportive of his thoughts. Despite your constructive nature, he appreciates and craves your attention. 

Your King hums, drowsily and that was when you knew his mind was somewhere else. You would admit, you too were becoming tipsy with alcohol. After the morning Council meeting, you rather have your head hung outside with ratcatchers at the mess of the Council. You glance at his attire once more and this time, he catches you. He sees you, the way your doe eyes wander up and down his figure. He rarely has a chance to wear dragon armor like this. 

“Distracted, are we?” His breath immediately inches away from yours. And the scent of strong alcohol stings. You’re so accustomed to it, that you’re surprised you would still rebuke the scent of it. Apart from that, the look Aegon gives you makes your heart weak. His smile is sluggish but pulls you in like a serpent in water. It’s alluring and hypnotizing, the way his focus wanders in all of you, and the same for him. You can’t help but wonder if the work of the armor was tricked. And you let your desires plunder when you trace his breastplate armor. Of the harsh outlines it’s supposed to represent dragon scales. It’s majestic and divine, fit for a king. 

Almost timidly, your husband giggles at your touch. He separates a stray hair from your cheek, allowing leeway more into your personal space. You can’t feel automatically embarrassed if someone were to barge in. Because anyone could, the seamstress, Kingsguard, or worse, his mother. 

“Wear that armor more often and perhaps you’ll receive more than indecent staring,” A mischievous grin forms as again another jingle of your golden jewelry. Gods, you’re enticing and coy. Had he mentioned that? More than once. 

The first time you were at Court, it was a spur of surprise. Not only had you arrived with Prince Aemond unannounced, but Aegon encouraged it. You would suspect the disapproving faces of the men, especially coming from the King’s Hand and grandsire. How he ploys and plots with every citizen of King’s Landing to do his bidding. To save the Realm, of course, more to have the most influence in the city. You were aware of what he thinks of you. An obedient and dainty princess. The Queen and wife to the King should have no right to speak of politics. 

And yet here you were. 

“You do not have a seat in this Council,” Queen Regent, Alicent urges, gazing at her second son with slight apprehension. In doubt, she feels a quick quiver of fear the moment Aemond strides past the Council table. When it came to you, Alicent could only muster a poor glance. The one-eyed prince proceeds towards the map of Westeros that stands beside the King. He strides in confidence, abruptly ignoring every piercing stare bestowed on him. Other than him, you reached towards the seat at the opposing side of your King, hand delicately trailing down the handles of the chair.

“Aemond is my closest blood and our strongest sword. I welcome him,” Aegon lay unfazed at the subtle shocked expressions on everyone’s faces. “As for my wife, I think it should be customary for her to be by my side even in Council. As my father has allowed you to do for him, remember mother?” A playful grin, all-knowing of his lightheartedness, and carelessness of what others thought of his decisions. Surely his mother would be the most understanding, bestowing the same position many years ago when King Viserys was dealt ill and immobile. Shouldn’t the Queen beside her King as should they in every instance? 

Alicent is silent in her displeasure. There was no reason to refute the King’s wishes and sometimes made you appreciative of Aegon’s power and status. Being King was a risky position however it offered you more freedom and the ability to speak your mind more often than not. Your husband was the cause of this leverage for the most part. You expected the Queen Dowager to give you any kind of sign of comfort except there was none. Only but a forgotten thought and you were dismissed. 

It fills you with dismay, a small black hole for where her approval was meant to be. For the last few days, you’d only wished for Alicent’s consoling eyes.

“We should send troops marching to Harrehal, the Riverlands have the largest force.” Aemond waves his hand over where the location of Riverrun is plastered on the wall. It’s curved in cursive lettering, surrounding soft green fields, most notably of their Southern lands, which was an inhabited place of divided houses and discourse. The largest force, it had many issues of compromises and its lordship. “With them, Rhaenyra’s forces would be left vulnerable on land.”

The accordance of hums coaxed the second son with assurance. A sense of pride if you will, knowing how much more skilled and knowable he was than his brother. But the Hand was quick to question his methods. 

“And what of the small Houses of Riverrun? The Brackens and Blackwoods have been fighting each other for centuries. They would never work together as one,” Otto points out and it brings more skepticism and worry to the other Councilmen. Alliances with the Southerners were awkward. They do not know when or where to stop the fight. And it has become extremely bothersome at the time of war. The Bracken and Blackwoods were examples of that. They proceeded with the war more for themselves and would kill hundreds of their men if it meant to end their rivalry before the war even began. 

“We should negotiate with smaller Houses beyond the River lands then,” Your lips shudder slightly when the immediate eyes turn to you. Even your husband stares at you in astonishment and curiosity the same. Alicent looks at you warily. And Aemond, all too mysterious, holds a neutral look. “Would it not help Ser Criston Cole secure more of the surrounding Houses towards their larger forces? Gaining allies along the way to Riverrun would only add more to our numbers,”

“And in truth, give us a better advantage to overruling Riverrun altogether?” A devilish grin was on Aegon’s face at your suggestion. Your advice seemed promising and seemed risky but it was the most practical. King’s Landing had more advantage on land than the sea or sky, therefore it was evident in their leverage over the smaller Houses close to Riverrun. 

You tilt your head in amusement, all while lowering yourself to sit down. Yes, even though you had no experience in politics or war, you listened. You had ears whenever you managed to walk past one of their meetings. It should be frowned upon but you did not care. You wanted to have more say in protecting your family and House. Most things had been provided for you at an early age. You were a princess with a wealthy father, negotiations were your family’s specialty. You learned early on how to enunciate and please people with the way of your words. And here, you simply voiced what you believed was the safest way to Riverrun. Despite all the demeanors, none of the other Councilmen had anything else to say or disprove of your plans. 

“Good! Then it’s settled then,” The king rises, as well as everyone else who feels startled at his shifted demeanor. “Then Ser Criston Cole should prepare some men for the long journey ahead of us by dawn!” It was then you felt some sort of pride that would solidify your position at the Council. As long as you hold a strong mind, should your advice become helpful towards the men, you’d hoped they would see your presence as a blessing. 

In some midst of it all or perhaps the end, Aemond is quiet. He’s curious and admires you for everything you strive for. Many people would assume he despises you for taking the initiative to aid his king. But he does not believe in that no, you’re a delicate thing and would never be selfish on greed. Merely he can appreciate your ambitious strides from afar. The way you act around the people, the Council, and his mother makes him believe you were born into the role of Queen. You care for your subjects and think of what’s best for them. You do your best to stay by your king’s side even though he lacks the mind for it. 

Perhaps maybe, in some cases, he should’ve had you. 

The words struck right out of his head just when everyone was dismissed. While the nobleman rushes out of the council room, he delays his leave momentarily to catch a glimpse of you. You define the example of his House’s wealth, always proud to dress in colors of black and crimson red as if it was your second skin. However you do not forget about your own House colors, you embrace it all together with his own and it makes him wonder what kind of beauty like yourself can be persuaded by the likes of his brother. You were quick-witted, amusing, and altogether undeserving of Aegon’s love. 

You do not immediately flee the room as his mother or Ser Criston Cole had done. Instead, you slowly rise from your seat and make your way to your husband, eagerly. Aegon sits comfortably in his golden chair, smug with loving eyes at your figure. He could not help but eye at you openly even with his Kingsguard standing beside him. 

“Aemond, may we have the room?” He hears his older brother say. It does not take a blind man to know the following events as the one-eyed prince simply tilts his head in your direction. Before storming out of the room and the slam of the doors. His footsteps clank against the cold cobblestone pavement as he makes his way to his room. But all he could think about was your lively laughter as he disappeared from the scene. 

The day after Cole’s troops arrived back at King’s Landing, you felt a string of worry crawling down your spine. As you pace across your bedroom, you fiddle with the ends of your loose hair to solace the anxiety you feel in your stomach. The pit was too unbearable as more men would be escorted out towards Rook’s Rest. After Aegon removed Otto Hightower as Hand, Criston Cole became the primary candidate for the position. You voiced your concerns before but Aegon had yet to change his decisions on your advice.

Now rumors have spread that by the time Cole invades Rook’s Rest, Aemond would be by his side to counter whatever attack Rhaenyra plans to defend her councilman. It would risk losing one dragon, the biggest and largest female beast you’d seen. Doubt fills your mind when you try to shake your worries away. You shook your hands feverishly and swatted away the sweat building up against your palms. You must speak to Aemond. You should warn him of the consequences of this act. 

You found the prince outside of the castle. Vhagar resides in a shallow space close to the gateways to the city and is attentively monitored for her whereabouts. Very few dragon keepers watch over the powerful beast for her dangerous nature and size. As a cart, full of sheep was being carried by horses, you looked in awe at the amount of necessity the castle must provide for their dragons now. Surely it would impact the people’s living and cost. It worries you how chaotic and unlawful the palace seemed to behave in times of war. Even though you find yourself wanting to question Aemond’s intentions of helping Cole this way. 

Your words settle like a soothing wave in his ears. “Prince Aemond,” And when the one-eyed prince spots you, holding the reins of your horse with a steady hand, he’s not afraid to show his approval of your presence. The colors you wear today are regarded as wealth and beauty. The golden linen stretches along the cloth of obsidian, representative of his House, your House. The gown expands upon your collarbone, allowing the silver necklace you have on to become the ire of his attention. It entices him, brings him into your line of view. Clear cut diamonds you had on your earlobes, they jingle at the slightest movement you make, as you make your way towards him with ease. 

“Your Grace,” He prompts, politely. He is a plain canvas for you to paint over, to inspect over. You should not be afraid of his presence because he behaves well under yours. The prince regent eyes you down carefully and you’re vaguely reminded of the day before, the two of you entered the Council room.

“How was your ride with Vhagar?” You tenderly incite, head tilting towards his beast. Vhagar sits lazily with her entire body blended into the environment. Her muddy green scales combine with the grassy interior. The dragon pits were deemed too small for her size. And more so claustrophobic for a creature of her caliber, as a champion of many wars and destruction, Vhagar is rather docile for being the largest dragon. 

He hums before easily answering. “The morrow dew is not something to be missed during this time. Vhagar could sense it, and the warm breeze is sure to come sooner for summer,” He crossed his arms behind his back as if analyzing your every breath as you walked in irregular patterns, trailing along where his dragon resides. Your attention was not fully on him. No, not that he wouldn’t mind. But it was ignorant on your part to ignore him so easily. “Now save the rest of this nonsense for supper or shall I ask what were your real intentions for coming here? Though I welcome it,” 

You catch onto his coarse tone. Aemond dislikes those who do not take him seriously, like his brother. And you are aware of his estranged heart. You give him a look of consideration. It was the look of someone who had the upper hand. You knew he was becoming impatient with your meddling. 

“What are your plans with Criston Cole going to Rook’s Rest?” Your figure fully faces him now as you cup your hands together modestly. Surely the prince of the realm should respect the Queen’s uncertainties when he meets with the King’s Hand behind his back. A sliver of dread falls on the blonde prince as you take a step closer. “Consoling with the Hand without the King’s presence is extremely demeaning, my prince. Surely you have a right reason to go behind his back,” 

He takes a step forward, as Aemond’s eye moves back and forth from you. “We have a plan,” He is recursive in his thoughts and manners. Yet under your eyes, he feels utterly weak and broken, as if you have put a spell on him. “It is best if the King does not intervene.”

 Shaking your head disapprovingly, you fake disappointment. “Then what do you plan to do?” The longer it went on, the more you could feel his blood rising at the way you glanced and teased at his exploits. “As I, the Queen should know.”

“You need not,” The second son grunts, moving away to leave whatever conversation you were trying to muster with him. You intended to snuff out his plans with Criston Cole and expose them to your King's husband. Your King husband. What would he know of battles and formation? He knew better strategy than him yet you still side with Aegon with his pathetic whims on the townsfolk. 

Unsatisfied, you shot a disapproving grin. “I know you intend on attacking Rook’s Rest as a surprise, why else would you go with Cole?” You heard his mudded footsteps stop momentarily as you continued. “My question to it is, what are you trying to prove out of this act of disloyalty?” It flicks a trigger in him. A quick flash of anger, jealousy, and disgust, all coiled into one hole that explodes. 

“I intend to prove I am the better fit as heir,” His tone is sharp and alert as he stomps back to you with a violent gaze. His one good remaining eye, unharmed and uncut, shoots daggers at your stern face. A small part of you thinks he is handsome. The way you can rile him within seconds gives you a sense of joy and satisfaction that quenches whatever annoyance you had of him before.

“There is no denying that,” Your lips agape still at how much you were able to pry out of Aemond. However, there was one detail you needed to remind him of. “But you fail to recognize that Aegon still has an heir, Maegor.” With that, you close your mouth to form a thin line as you stand more confidently against the prince’s deadly stare. “And as Queen, I hope you do not try to cross your King’s benevolent trust with your anger.” 

It was his turn to remain there motionless. The one-eyed prince repeats your words over and over again. He contemplates them long and hard, glaring at the ground, at where you stood, close to his breath and space. But all of his emotional desires could be examples of an ill temper. You twist and turn his head like a puppeteer to a helpless marionette. And his strings had long sprung and trapped him in an immobile place.

He leaves without a word.

The battle was over. But the war continued. You became increasingly paranoid as no word from Cole’s army of Aegon’s wellbeing. You heard unreliable news. This and that but you wanted the real thing. The truth from a real member who had witnessed the battle at Rook’s Rest. As you twist the ring on your finger, you glance towards the rising crowd in the city. There were so many citizens.  They succeeded and followed like colonies of ants. 

Your anguish was reassured when the sight of the King’s army appeared. Shouts and screams returned you from your thoughts as hundreds of men walked and rode on horseback. Your lively expression did not last long, only to falter when meant with their solemn faces. What a grim battle it must’ve been.

“All hail King Aegon! Who went against and slain the traitor, Rhaenys, and her dragon, Meleys!” Cole exclaims in a harsh and undeserving undertone. From where you stood, on the high mounts of the castle, you saw the horrors of what they’ve done to the traitors. A severed head of the Red Queen, without her rider. Her flesh was torn and burnt. Charred from the attacks of another dragon, you did not believe Aegon had done so. You had doubts and Criston’s indifferent frown proved your intuition. 

Alicent was by the patio where you spied on the citizens of King’s Landing. She observes and feels a familiar dread from the aftermath she has yet to witness for herself. You have taken the position of Queen and in turn, must understand the order of things. Simply because she had a feeling that things did not seem as they were predicted by the townsfolk. 

When the wooden carriage of your husband is delivered to your bed chambers, everyone storms aside for the guards to set it on the floor. You arrived shortly after, nails and teeth clenched in fear as your mother-in-law appeared beside you with the same fixation. And somewhere else, your brother-in-law, Aemond carefully watches your scared position. The lid lifts and the soldiers hold onto the emergency bed that protects their King. In a swift motion, they lift and allow the body to hover over your shared bed.

In patience and precision, Maester Orywle walks into the chambers with several other maesters under his wing to begin a procedure and analysis of his injured body. The room is quickly transformed into a medical room, with various tools and gadgets displayed for the maesters disposal. You had little clue what they were doing, worried about your husband’s awakened state. 

“How is he?” You stumbled by the foot of the bed, where the other maesters scurry to give off Maester Orwyle a scalpel. Gods, the wounds he had mustered. You felt terrified and rightfully so. This could be the last time you see your husband, alive and breathing. “Is he awake?”

“I’m not sure, Your Grace,” Maester Orwlye replies with adequate patience. Knowing the panic and hysteria you must feel for your king, your husband, he pities in your state. You should not deserve such sorrow. “But I must be given time to work on his fatal wounds. Whether he lives or not will be confirmed afterward.” His unflinching face softens when glances at one of Aegon’s personal Kingsguard to escort you outside. The knight nods and walks forward to excuse himself before coming forward.

“My apologies, Your Grace,”

Yet you did not want to leave. Your palms felt hot and guilt-ridden with the idea of leaving Aegon alone to suffer. You urge, taking a step forward for only Maester Orwyle to hear. “How long can you be sure he will survive?” It’s so hushed with desperation in your voice. But the maester could only respond with a sorrowful shake. It breaks your heart wholly, to know not even the best medical professionals had a clear understanding or answer to their King’s expectancy. 

As you feel pathetic tears, ready to fall, the Queen Regent rushes to take hold of your forearm. She drags your pitiful self out of the chambers. The bodies that remained stepped aside for you and Alicent to leave swiftly. A quick flash of silver and black vanishes from your peripherals, but you cannot process anything that is happening anymore. 

The syllables of your name ring against your ears as the Queen Regent tries to bring you back to her. “My dear, please focus on me.” Delicate fingers drape a hold of your jaw, firmly. They smooth over the apples of your cheeks, smoothly and soothingly like a gesture a mother would do for their children. “You need to stand strong for Aegon and yourself. Your children, think of Jaehaera and Meagor! Pray to the gods for his health.” 

With that, you took a deep breath. 

Aemond was avoidant to the whole ordeal. No one besides Criston Cole was there when he found his brother’s scorched body. Alongside his dragon, Sunfrye, it looked as though he was fighting for his last breath. Aemond would’ve taken that chance to send him to eternal sleep if not for Cole’s arrival. A pity for him.

As he watches the scene before him, your grief-stricken features are what caused the most pain. You resembled a tragic painting, so angelic it’s saddening to see you this way. Aemond could’ve done it. He could have killed his brother and taken the glory of killing Meleys. Despite that, he did not and stormed from the scene. Now left in the shadows of what’s to come, he numbly waits for the maester’s work to be done with. The Council meeting will begin shortly. After Aegon’s procedure and Maester Orywle, official confirmation of whether he would live or not would determine whether he would become the true heir or not. 

This was what he wanted, yes? 

Except, everything was bleak now. All the colors he witnessed were suddenly wiped; now all he saw was black and white. Your tragic face comes into mind, along with your fragile sniffles and tears. Gods, he wanted to comfort your sweet little heart. Yet knowing he was the cause of it, made Aemond strangely more devoted to you. If Aegon does not survive, you are bound to be a widow. Your youngest child, Meagor was still but a babe, unfit and too young to understand what an heir was. Therefore he would be the rightful option if all else failed. He would rule in the King’s stead. 

That was what the one-eyed prince considered when he stepped through the doors to begin the Council. The King’s chair was empty as expected, looking lonely and authoritative without its ruler. In the same sense, on the opposite side, you sat soberly with nothing but a blank look. You wore cool-toned colors this morning. It reflected much of what you must be feeling. 

Grief, misery, and blame.  Even in this poor state, he still considers you attractive and alluring. It’s a shame you looked dejected and lifeless despite all your energy and might to stay awake. Your hair was even braided in a simpler style. Knowing you always had a knack for extraverted taste, Aemond takes in your appearance profoundly. Because perhaps, everyone in the Council can understand the emphasis on the wife of the King. As they eagerly await Maester Orwyle’s results, they all gaze at your seat for any kind of solace. 

He takes the chair to your left and sits. While the Grand Maester begins to explain Aegon’s conditions. The longer he spewed, the more you felt your heavy heart fall deeper into your chest. How would the realm react now? Their king suddenly struck and immobile to be by their side. He had defeated Rhaenys in battle however now suffered in a long-inducing coma just as his father did. Who would rule in his absence? It only made sense in your mind but you did not make it become a reality. 

“But he is very much alive, Your Grace,” Maester Orywle gives an earnest smile to the Queen Mother as she exhales with the utmost relief. “Though he will need time to recover, I do not think he will ever be the same.” 

An unfavorable grunt from Aemond brings attention from you and Cole. “So he is unable to leave his chambers.”

“I’m afraid not,” 

“Then we must choose who is to rule in his stead,” Lord Wylde speaks of the obvious, sparing everyone a momentary glance. He clears his throat and rubs his beard, nervously.

“If anyone should come in Aegon’s stead, it is his wife,” Alicent jabs, shooting quick assertiveness when she presses her crossed palms onto the table. Your name leaves her lips as a clear sign of hope. “She was the closest companion to the King and has been since this war started. It is only right for her to continue her husband’s intentions and plans.” 

“And what plans did the King have?” A pompous statement coming from her second son, which surprised you as well. Aemond was known for his restrained nature however it seems as days passed, he was slowly losing his grip on his sanity. “I am the closest heir the King has. Would it not be I who rules in his stead?” In the turn of the tides, the room is divided upon their suggestions. You can tell by the wary looks the lords hold with each other. However, you have been grateful for Alicent’s support regardless of the cold shoulder she has given you previously. 

“You are not fit, Prince Aemond,” Your fingers slide and take hold of the marble ball in front of you. The weight of the object pleasantly gives you a boost of poise to look him in his one good remaining eye. “The King’s line is still secured for my son, Meagor will become the next heir. But he is young so for the time being, I am naturally the next in line to come to his stead. As his wife and Queen, I should have a say as well.” 

It’s what Aegon would’ve wanted.

[deardoiloveyou]

Falling asleep on HP boys₊˚ʚ ₊

Notes: Fluff, really really soft, no mentions of smut/violence, takes place during goblet of fire, established friendship

Summary: basically just hp boys crushing over you

Characters: Harry potter (the man the myth the legend), Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy

A/N: when I was making this header i was somewhat giggling bc Draco is the only one smiling while ron and harry look so serious

*ੈੈੈ♡ Harry

After babbling for hours upon hours about quidditch and other topics that Harry just couldn't keep himself from spewing about, the thoughts that kept Harry's mind off of the tantalizing task of opening the shiny egg, you finally began to feel drowsy

A sense of relief washed over you once Harry finally took a much needed breath and paused, yet sadly for you he took that relief away from you again, but before he engulfed himself too much into his one-sided conversation, he realized how droopy your eyelids were becoming, how your breathing was so calm and quiet, and how your head suddenly started leaning closer and closer onto his shoulder until he couldn't do anything about it.

Harry softly whispered, "Sorry, y/n...I must bore you quite a bit"

Your eyes lightly fluttered open, "Not at all, Harry, I love your voice" you said in a quiet whisper

Harry couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not, he never thought such a simple compliment could have resonated so deeply within his heart. Harry of course got attention and praise, but when you did so he felt himself practically melting, he loved you dearly. And you knew it.

You closed your eyes again, moving your hand closer to his until he carefully put his hand on top of yours. The silence was almost comforting, just knowing you were both safe and together eased Harry's troubled mind.

In the end, you both fell asleep and it was an adorable sight to Ron and Hermione, they made sure to gently tease you two about it the next day♡

₊˚⊹♡ Ron

Ron absolutely loves cuddling with you, seeing you comfy and buried in a soft blanket practically melts his heart to the core

So he isn't surprised that by the time he's done ranting to you about how his day went, you were just about to fall into a deep slumber (that might I say was much needed)

Ron got extremely smug once you laid your head onto his shoulder, it was like a scene out of one of those muggle movies, so romantic

Ron did give a soft yet endearing laugh when you reached for his hand, saying, "Oh, darling, do you need sum'fin?"

That was Ron's way of saying "something"

Your eyes slightly widened at the sweet nickname, but you just wanted more of his affection at this point

You gave him a weak pouting face before he gently held your hand

Ron on the exterior was smug but that wasn't the case for what he was feeling. His heart was racing at an abnormal level, he found his breath hitching and his eyes trying to find anything to look at but you - mostly because he was so incredibly flustered

You both fell fast asleep, Harry and Hermione couldn't help but think you two were adorable and that made Ron very flustered

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Draco

Draco was mumbling to you, you were so exhausted you could barely tell what he was saying at this point but you were able to make out Draco saying

"Pottah is insufferable"

Or something else about "stewpid pottah", you couldn't care less at this rate. Your exhaustion started taking over you, you unintentionally started leaning towards Draco's shoulder - which was looking quite comfortable

At first Draco was extremely apprehensive and flicked your forehead to which you swatted his arm, in the end he gave you his "you're an insufferable idiot" look, yet still let you rest on him

Draco's heart was pounding, it felt as though it was about to explode it was racing so fast. Although he kept up his cold exterior, even around you, he couldn't help but melt at your touch

Your warm and soft hand met his cold and tired hands, he flinched at first but realizing you were fast asleep already (so he couldn't lecture you about being "so idiotic", even though you had better grades than he ever did) he just gently placed his hand atop yours

Draco's eyes were lost in exploring you, he never realized how beautiful you were, being this close Draco took the opprotunity to let his eyes wander you for a bit, it was as though he was memorizing every bit of you. He ruffled your hair, gently and ever so endearingly, then his eyes met your lips - and oh my you made him go mad, psychotic even. Draco wanted to kiss you ever so badly, he wanted your lips to crash onto his, alas he knew you could never like him, well at least romantically (or so he thought).

Draco was teased almost all morning having been caught cuddling with you by Pansy, but he didn't care. Draco was replaying that night with you almost constantly, hoping that it would happen again - every night.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading these little skits, and have a good day ♡

[softspiderling]

think you're a genius (you drive me up the wall) | r.c.

summary: it wouldn't be an outer banks party if there wasn't at least one fist fight. also, rafe is trying to turn over a new leaf.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 3,8k

warning: mention of blood, violence (reader gets punched in the face, but there are no graphic details), shitty topper (sorry top)

author's note: long awaited (at least by me) rafe fic, whoop whoop!!! no usage of Y/N, happy reading, don't forget to reblog!!! also tagging @sunderlust bc i borrowed some of our conversation in this fic😘love you sol

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“Since when do you drink beer?”

Barely pausing at the words, you continued to stack cold beer cans in your arms, the condensation dripping onto your skin. You didn’t have to turn around to know who the voice belonged to, having heard it so many times. And this was his house after all.

“Wasn’t aware you kept track of my drink of choice,” you retorted, turning around to face him, while simultaneously trying to balance the cans.

Rafe raised an eyebrow at you before his gaze lowered to the beer in your arms. “… You trying to tell me that all that beer’s for you?”

“You calling me a lightweight?”

The corner of Rafe’s mouth ticked up and he took a sip from his drink, the ice clinking in the glass.

“I think we both know I’m not.”

If someone had told you that one day you’d be standing in the parlor of Tannyhill, having a mostly civil conversation with Rafe you’d have them institutionalized. But things have changed. When Sarah returned with the news that Ward has died protecting Sarah, Rafe imploded at first. Blaming her for his death, the downfall of their family and generally being ungrateful for Ward’s love for her.

Everyone avoided the Cameron estate for a while, hearing stuff crash and yells from a mile away. No one dared to step close. A few days after, the disturbances stopped, being replaced with complete silence.

It was so silent, you actually grew concerned until Rafe turned up at Heyward’s setting up a weekly grocery delivery. Pope had dumped the stuff he was holding as soon as Rafe had stepped into the store, storming outside, with Cleo hot on his heels, leaving you to set up the standing order.

“Can you tell Sarah I’m sorry?”

“What?”

You looked up from the register and Rafe clenched his jaw, giving you a look.

“You really gon’ make me say it again?”

“How about you call her yourself instead of making me deliver your message like a post boy?”

Rafe exhaled deeply, knitting his eyebrows together like he was really trying not to explode and honestly, you had to respect him for that. You know how impatient he could be.

“I tried, okay? Don’t you think I’ve tried? I’ve tried to call her, she’s not picking up. Fuck, I don’t even know if she still has the same phone number,” he said, like the words physically pained him. “I don’t even know where she’s staying. Is it at John B’s new place?”

Somewhere between his words, Rafe had started pacing up and down the stairs, making you antsy.

“Hey,” you said, coming around to slowly, carefully - like you were trying to pet a stray cat - curl your hand around his wrist. Rafe immediately stopped, eyeing his wrist where you were touching him.

“Sorry, I’ll take my hand off,” you quickly said, but before you could, Rafe stopped you.

“’s fine,” he muttered, meeting your eyes for a second before looking away again. “Physical touch grounds me… Y’know… When my thoughts get too… Much.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding at him and staying in place, for god knew how long, until Rafe had seemed to calm down.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

You drew your hand back, crossing your arms over your chest and leaned against the counter to put some distance between you and him, wildly overwhelmed with this situation. Rafe didn’t seem like he knew what to do either, turning his ring on his finger, his eyes cast on the floor.

“If you really want to apologize to Sarah,” you started, making him look up. “Maybe I can talk to her. Ask her if she’s willing to meet up with you.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, clearly surprised. “You’d do that for me?”

“Don’t let it get to your head. I’m mostly doing it for Sarah,” you scoffed and Rafe only smirked, shaking his head.

“Sure, tough girl. Gonna ring me up now or what?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you returned to the cash register, finishing up his order. You still felt his eyes on you as you worked away.

“Thanks,” he finally said, and you lifted your head, briefly meeting his eyes.

“Don’t mention it.”

And he never did.

Miraculously, you had managed to get Sarah to agree to talk to Rafe and while you had accompanied her to the beach, where she had met up with Rafe, you stayed behind to give them privacy. You weren’t sure what they had talked about, but you didn’t press her about it either when she came stomping back to you with tearstained cheeks. Whatever they have talked about must have helped though, because even though Sarah still stayed with John B of the the times, she went home every odd night, returning with sandwiches and drinks the next day like a soccer mom. It went unsaid that Rafe had provided her with everything and Sarah avoided talking about him, mostly because Pope still got that distant look in his eyes whenever she mentioned her brother. Which is why you were surprised that he was the first one to agree to go to a party Rafe had invited Sarah to, forwarding the invite to her friends.

“What?” Pope had said everyone gave him an odd look. “He stole a family heirloom of mine. The least he can do is invite us to a party of his.”

“Okay then,” JJ jeered, beating on Pope’s back with his opens palms. “Let’s go to a Kook party.”

You had to admit that it was nice to see that the two tribes of the island coming together. The fact that Pogues were invited to a party on Figure 8 was huge. Granted, it was just you and your friends, but still. It was a start.

Loud cheering from outside brought you out of your thoughts, you and Rafe both looking towards the dimly lit backyard, where the main attraction of the party took place.

“JJ and John B are destroying a group of Kooks at Rage Cage right now,” you then explained, lifting the beer in your arms. “Hence... You know.”

“Right right, I was starting the wonder what all that yelling was about,” Rafe mused.

“So how come you’re not out there?”

Rafe shrugged. “Needed some quiet.”

“What, you having your private party in here?” you teased and Rafe smirked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Why? You jealous?”

You rolled your eyes, shifting the beer cans in your arms, the weight slowly getting to you.

“In your dreams, Rafe,” you scoffed. “I got to go, get these beers to the boys before they’ll get warm. You should come down, when you’re done brooding and shit.”

Throwing your last words over your shoulder, you returned to your friends, being welcomed with loud cheers as the empty cups get filled rather quickly. You dropped down into your empty chair, taking your drink from Kiara who had been holding onto it during your absence.

“Pope was about to send a search party because you were taking so long,” she said and you gave Pope a look over the brim of your cup.

“You’re such a mother hen. I was talking to Rafe.”

“Why the hell were you talking to Rafe?”

“You talked to Rafe?”

“Jesus, guys relax,” you groaned, leaning your head back. “He’s fine. He didn’t even do anything. We just talked.”

“It’s never just anything with Rafe,” Pope muttered.

“I get that,” Sarah started, rolling her empty cup in her hand. “But he’s different.Like… He regrets a lot of the thing’s he’s done and trying really hard to make up for his mistakes,” she paused, pressing her lips together tightly. “I’d be the last person to defend him, but I feel like he’s trying to turn over a new leaf.”

Before Pope was able to list all of the bad things that Rafe has done in the past, your conversation was interrupted, angry yells ringing over the music.

“So now you’re just all buddy buddy hanging out here, huh?”

The new voice wasn’t really new and everyone looked at Sarah, who paled, slowly pushing herself up from her chair, looking towards the disturbance, the rest of the group following her.

“Shit. What the hell is Topper doing here?”

The sudden intrusion of a rather inebriated Topper had immediately tanked the relaxed and laid back atmosphere; suddenly, everyone was tense, not daring to make a move in fear of making the wrong one.

“What? Aren’t we here to party?” Topper cajoled, waving a half empty bottle of whiskey around. “Let’s get rid of these Pogues and party!”

The rest of the Kooks looked between themselves, not really wanting to follow Topper’s request but also not wanting to defend your friends. Even if they just had fun together, the Kooks wouldn't go as far as openly defend Pogues, you knew that.

“You should leave, Topper,” John B said, his hands curling at his sides, which was fair, honestly. Even though you had rebuilt the Chateau, bigger, better and most importantly more fire resistant, Topper burnt down John B’s home. His safe space. Topper only widened his eyes at John B comically, snorting.

“Who are you to tell me to leave?”

Sarah pushed herself to the front, pressing herself to John B’s side, which was probably not the smartest thing she could have done, as it only aggravated Topper even more to see her next to John B. You and the others stood right behind her, ready to step in as soon as it escalated.

“Leave, Topper,” Sarah snapped at him. “Nobody invited you.”

“Yeah, as far as I know, you don’t even live here anymore, Sarah,” Topper said, spitting out her name like it was venom in his mouth.

“I didn’t invite you.”

You hadn’t even noticed Rafe having joined you, not really standing on your side, but not on Topper's side either. Suddenly, the tension had grown even thicker and by now, you realized this could go wrong in about a 100 ways.

Topper stared at his friend, mouth agape, before he collected himself, pulling a face.

“Seriously, Rafe? Weren’t you the one who told me that I’m better off without your bitch of a sister and now you’re taking her side?”

“Watch it, Top,” Rafe only said, not even moving an inch.

Not that he had to. Everyone knew what Rafe was capable of, if he was angry enough. Topper only narrowed his eyes at his friend, weighing his options.

“Topper, just go,” Sarah yelled, walking towards him for good measure, trying to offer some sort of olive branch, but Topper only pushed Sarah roughly, causing her to stumble to the ground.

“Jesus, fuck, Topper,” you snapped, rushing to get Sarah back on her feet again, making the fatal mistake of getting between him and John B, as you received a sickening punch to the side of your face.

“Fuck!”

“Holy shit, Topper are you insane?”

You had toppled over your feet to the grass, not having expected the punch at all. Disoriented, you touched your throbbing cheek, your fingers stained red when you looked at them.

“Fuck,” you moaned, feeling like you were about to pass out. Your friends quickly crowded around you, helping you up.

“Shit, girl, you alright?” Cleo asked, carefully pushing your hair to the side to assess the damage.

“Is Sarah okay?” you only asked, pausing to spit out some blood, leaning on Cleo, your legs still shaking.

“Dude, I’m fine!” Sarah said, wrapping an arm around you, still shaking herself.

Your vision was still dizzy, and the voices were not helping, but it seemed like most of the party goers had dissipated as the argument had started. As your eyes adjusted, you could just see Rafe holding Topper by the collar of his shirt and saying something you couldn’t quite understand, before he tossed his friend on the ground. Topper didn’t take long to get back to his feet, fleeing from the scene.

Rafe turned around, his eyes scanning over you before turning to Sarah.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a bruise,” Sarah said, her eyes fixated on you. “But you should definitely get checked out. I can't believe Topper punched you."

“Come on, I got a first aid kit upstairs and some ice for the swelling.”

Rafe reached out to grab you under the arms, but Cleo was reluctant to let you go.

“Maybe I should help.”

“Seriously?” Rafe asked, incredulously and you only watched with narrowed eyes, your reaction time still limited.

“We should just take her home,” Pope chimed in, grabbing you by the shoulder gently, jostling you around.

“Guys, I’m gonna be sick if you keep handing me around like a joint,” you groaned, shutting your eyes, in the hopes of making the dizziness better.

“Pope, it’s fine. Rafe’s not going to hurt her. And he knows a thing or two about patching up wounds,” Sarah said, Pope’s grip on you loosening.

“Fine. But you even look at our girl funny, and you got another thing coming, you hear me, Rafe?”

“Yeah yeah, I got it,” Rafe grunted.

You peeked an eye open, when your friends let go of you, Rafe looping his arm around your shoulder, pausing to look at John B. “You got Sarah, right?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about her.”

Rafe nodded his head in thanks, before leading you towards the house.

"Hey, just call if you need anything!" Kiara called after you, which you only replied with a weak "Okay!", your focus on putting one foot after the other. Rafe had his arm around your waist, taking most of your weight.

“Can you walk alright or do you need me to carry you?”

“If you pick me up right now, I will vomit on you,” you moaned and Rafe snorted.

“Right, and neither of us want that.”

It took you guys an embarrassing amount of time until you reached the house, since you kept making Rafe stop because you thought you were going to throw up. When you finally walked inside, Rafe lead you upstairs, instead of steering you towards the living room.

“Where are you taking me?”

“First aid kit is in my bathroom,” Rafe replied, mostly supporting your weight as you climbed the stairs.

“Ugh, your bathroom? Am I gonna get infected with herpes or something?”

“Is it the smartest idea to insult me in your position right now?” he asked dryly, and you almost sighed in relief when you reached the second floor.

“Just take me to your bedroom Rafe.”

“Alright, Princess,” Rafe sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice as he guided you to his bedroom, carefully depositing you on the bed. While he went to the bathroom to fetch the first aid kit, you took a second to catch your breath, hoping the world would stop spinning.

Rafe returned with the first aid kit, moving slowly so as not to startle you. He set it down on the bed and then looked at you, concern flickering in his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you mumbled, pressing a hand to your throbbing cheek. "Just a little dizzy."

"Right." Rafe opened the kit and began to rifle through it, pulling out a bottle of disinfectant and some cotton pads. “This is probably gonna sting,” he warned you.

“Do your worst.”

You managed to flinch only slightly as the cool, yet burning liquid hit your skin, with Rafe’s surprising gentle touch as he cleaned your wound. He put a small bandage on the cut, before sitting back to inspect his handiwork.

“I’ll go grab you some ice for the swelling,” Rafe then said, standing up. “No dozing off, though, a’ight?”

Without waiting for an answer, Rafe left the room, leaving you by yourself yet again. Even though he explicitly told you not to doze off, you laid down on the bed, figuring that it might make the pain a little less bad. As soon as your head hit the pillow, Rafe’s scent engulfed you, and you weren’t sure if you lying down in his bed was too... Intimate? Then again, he was the one who had left you in his bedroom by himself. Before you could sit up again, Rafe reappeared in the room, holding a bag of in his hand, an unreadable expression on his face as he took you in on his bed.

“Sure, go ahead and make yourself at home,” he huffed, but you could see the frown on his face. Rafe sat down on the bed next to you, carefully wrapping the ice bag in a small towel and pressing it against your bruise, his other hand cradling your face. Despite the ice on your skin, you felt your cheeks heating up.

It was odd. You’d never have expected that Rafe could be able to be so gentle, so caring, and you suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to kiss him.

“What’d you say to Topper?” you blurted out instead, breaking the silence. You reached up to hold the ice bag, and Rafe pulled his hands back, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What?”

“After he hit me. What did you tell him to make you leave?”

Rafe sighed, leaning back a bit, staring at the wall as his eyes hardened. “I reminded him of what he did to me when I… Hurt Sarah. Asked him if he was willing to beat me to a pulp for my sister, what he thought I’d do to him for hurting her.”

His eyes flickered back to you.

And you.

You let out a breath at the pregnant pause, scared he’d say something he couldn’t take back. Something real. Maye you had been flirting with him, but so what? There was no harm, they were just words. Right? But admitting something real? That was a whole other story.

“Who would’ve thought Rafe Cameron could be so nice?” You said instead, a teasing lilt in your voice.

Rafe snorted, shaking his head with a laugh, the moment dissipating. “Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it. It was a one time thing.”

“Right, right, we wouldn’t want people to think that Rafe the Kook prince actually has a heart.”

“Does that make you the Pogue Princess then?”

“What?” you asked, flushing. “Where’d you get that idea? That’s obviously Kie.”

“Come on,” Rafe huffed, rolling his eyes. “Kie’s half Kook. And don't even start with my sister. Sarah’s… Half and half, at least.”

You eyed him in amusement. It was clear that he’d spent a good amount of time on that analogy.

“What about Cleo?” you asked, humoring him.

“Ehh. She would’ve made a good Pogue princess, too bad you’ve already taken the spot,” Rafe said with a shrug. “Pogue Princess. Flirts with everyone, heart of gold, never hesitates to get right between a brawl to help out a friend and to call people out on their bullshit…. Should I continue?”

“Please don’t,” you laughed, pressing the ice bag to your cheek. “You’re talking shit out of your ass right now.”

“I’m talking shit out of my ass? You’re the one saying everything that comes to your mind to stop yourself from kissing me right now.”

What?

“What?”

You never thought he’d actually say it out loud. Mention the elephant in the room. The tension you had been trying to ignore all this time. The silence that followed was deafening as you tried to find the right words, your heart beating in your chest.

“In your dreams,” you muttered hotly, repeating your words from earlier in the evening, looking everywhere but at him. It didn’t take long for Rafe to grab you by the chin gently, forcing you to look at him, his eyes piercing yours.

“In my dreams, yes,” he said quietly, inching so close that his warm breath was fanning across your face. “What about yours, princess?”

Gaping at him, speechless, you knew you didn’t have long until Rafe would take your silence as rejection. Your mind was racing, but ultimately, you leaned in, closing the gap and finally kissed him. Rafe let out a soft grunt, dropping his hand from your chin and cupping the back of your head instead to press even closer to you. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, as you finally admitted the attraction you felt to another, but you pulled away, when you felt a tad too dizzy.

“Right, shit,” Rafe cursed, knitting his brows together, examining your cheek. “Got too carried away.”

You flushed, handing him the small ice bag, that was more or less a bag of water now. Rafe dumped it in the trash next to the nightstand, before turning back to you with a smirk.

“Took you long enough.”

“Shut up,” you huffed and Rafe only grinned, pushing your hair out of your face, where it stuck to your wet cheek. You leaned in for another kiss, only for Rafe to stop you, holding you back.

“Nuh-uh. You get better first. Next time, I want you to get dizzy because of my mouth and not because you just got punched in the face.”

“You sound real confident there will be a next time,” you pointed out.

Rafe sighed, faux-exasperation. “Princess, don’t act dumb, it doesn’t suit you. You really think I’ll let you go after you’ve professed your love for me?”

“After I did what?” you shrieked in laughter, and Rafe only laughed. It was nice seeing him laugh for real for once, not the smarmy, smirk he used to do. After your laughter subsided, your pursed your lips, serious.

“You know my friends won’t take this well, right? Especially Pope.”

Rafe ran his hand over his buzzed hair, exhaling softly. “I know. But I won you over, didn’t I? Rest will be a piece of cake.”

“I’m serious, Rafe.”

You gave him a look and he leaned down, clasping his hands in his. “So am I. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have been trying to make things up to him, to Sarah. To everyone. It might take a while… And I don’t blame him.”

“As long as you’re aware…. Now, can we get back to kissing?”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said?”

Pushing your lower lip forward, you pouted at him. “One kiss.”

Rafe stared at you for a hot second, frowning. “Fine. One.”

But when he leaned down to give you a chaste kiss true to his words, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you.

"Jesus, are you trying to kill yourself?" Rafe hissed, but you only cackled, almost taking your bandage off in the process.

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author's note: pls leave a comment/reblog/like if you liked it🥹

[ashen-char]

take my pure 🔞

ship: max fox (better things) x gender neutral reader (reader has a penis bc of the g!p request but i kept it gn bc the other request used "they")

warnings: explicit smut, losing virginity, reader has a penis

summary: max is more than happy to be your first - to ensure that your first time is perfect, to show you how good it can be.

word count: 3700+

notes: knocking out a few requests with this one. g!p request here, and requests for reader's first time w max here and here. g!p won the poll so i hope to write things like this more often for you guys! ALSO written as a happy bday gift to my 100th follower <3

Max has done her best to be patient with you. Respectful of the fact that, yknow, you're inexperienced. That you want to take things slow. You're not the type to rush into stuff headfirst like Max is. You know she's done more, that she wants you. It's kinda sweet how she asks you if you're OK even if you're doing something as simple as making out, just because she doesn't want to scare you off. 

"Hey, babe?" Max asks you one day, while you two are cuddling on her bed. Her hands stroke at your stomach, fingers slightly grazing down and playing with the waistband of your boxers. "I was thinking, like... what's the farthest you've ever gone with someone?"

Your eyes widen with the question since it seemed so out of the blue. Then again, Max always said what was on her mind, be that normal or not. "Uh, well, we've made out a bunch, obviously," you tell her.

"Right." The way she pauses lets you know that Max wants you to keep going, that you haven't answered what she wants to hear.

You keep your eyes on Max's, watching if she's at all uncomfortable or jealous with the answer. You want to be honest, but not make her upset. "Besides that, I guess me and my last girlfriend... touched a little. Like, under the bra. She tried to cop a feel of my junk once, but I shut that down." You frown at the memory. The rest of that hang-out was awkward, and you felt bad, but you weren't ready. You don't regret standing your ground though.

"Just under the bra, huh? That's it?" she teases. It's like Max knew you were getting in your head, because one of her hands comes up and cups your face. You lean into it. Turn your head and press a kiss to her palm.

Your arm goes to pull Max in, wanting her closer. She relaxes you. You've never really had that before. Past relationships were all filled with nerves and uncertainty. Max makes everything feel obvious, especially with how confident she is, even when she messes up.

"I kinda regretted moving away back then. Like, it felt good," you admit. "But no one else had ever touched it but me, so I was a little too nervous to go further." That moment didn't feel right. Now you know that it was because your ex was the wrong girl. She wasn't as awesome and right for you as Max.

Max giggles softly, pressing against you and letting you pull her against you. "Not lame at all, babe," she assures, her hand moving lower, tracing patterns on your abdomen. You resist the urge to flex, knowing she'll tease you for trying to impress her. You can't help how nervous she still makes you. How cool you want her to think you are. "It's... cute, actually. Makes me feel special, you know? That I'll get to be your first."

First. It used to be a daunting thought. Exes pushing you, saying it wasn't a big deal, telling you how excited they were to eventually take it. Like your body was something fun for them to experience. But not Max. She likes the thought because it proves how much you, the person not the body, trusts her. You think it might be fun, with Max. Because of Max. It makes you want to push through those nerves.

She looks up at you. You recognise that look in her eyes, how they sparkle with mischief. "...what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" you ask, wary but playful in tone. You poke her cheek and laugh when that makes Max laugh as well.

"You've never gone under my bra," she says.

The thought of Max's... well. You flush at the thought, the image of it, like your brain's stopping you from even thinking of her chest. Bare. Would her, uh, you know, be as pink and tender as her lips?

You really need to get over it. They're just words. You've seen Max's breasts before - seen them when she'd tease you by sending you nudes, or the couple of times she's changed in front of you because "she really doesn't care, just stay" in Max's words. You never really let yourself look, so sure that you'd stare and pop a boner or something. And pictures don't do them justice.

Max gives you little time to prepare. With two hands, she takes hold of yours, and, with a gentle tug, brings your hand under her shirt. "Go up when you feel ready," she says. Her eyes are fixed on yours, but she closes them when she leans in and sweetly gives you a kiss. It's then when you let your fingers splay open, reaching up, releasing a shaky breath when you feel it. Soft. Malleable. 

You squeeze, and she moans and, fuck, you feel the blood rushing down between your legs. This is when alarm bells would ring, telling you to move away before she feels your semi. But not with Max. Maybe it would be overkill to say you feel completely ready, but you don't feel scared at least. Spurred by your excitement and the feel of her soft tits in your hands, you begin to massage and explore, watching how Max reacts. Her shivers, her moans, her whimpers.

"Are you sure this is your first time?" she huffs out, as you're switching from one to the other. "You're too good at this."

"I- uh-" You don't know what you want to say. Nothing really. At this point, you're tenting your boxers something fierce and hoping Max doesn't tease you about it. "I'm not really doing anything. You feel good," is what you end up landing on, proud when you don't stutter too bad.

You feel her nipples pebble under your touch, how your palm grazes over it and it makes Max bite her lip and mumble out a "fuck".

When you don't freak out and let her know it's getting a bit too quick for you, her thumbs slip under the straps of her tank top. "You can take it off, if you want, babe," Max offers. You know there's no bra underneath, and you think you might die if her perfect tits were suddenly out, so you appreciate the warning.

"Honestly, I like where my hands are," you say. Admitting that peeling her tank top off would make you actually combust in your pants is too embarrassing anyways. "But I want to see you."

You watch as she strips her shirt and your heart thumps like it did the first time because she's just that gorgeous. Her pale skin is pretty. Her nipples are as pink as you imagined, but there's a tinge of red now, like they're begging to be touched. The beauty marks that pepper her upper body look like constellations, and you've spent a non-zero amount of time fantasising about kissing them. So you do. Max's breathing is getting heavy and you can feel it in how her chest rises and falls, can feel her heartbeat against your lips.

You don't know how long your face has been buried in her chest for. At least ten minutes if you had to guess. Max's perfume smells so sweet on her skin, and when you lick around her nipple like that, she squirms and grinds down on your lap. You almost can't believe you're feeling so comfortable right now. There's no instinct telling you to move away, to not let her feel your bulge. In fact, it feels so good.

"So, does that mean you're ready for third base now? Or maybe even a home run?" Her voice is teasing, but there's a hint of need behind it. Max wants you inside her and it's a thought that makes you groan.

"I think... yeah," you breathe out. "I wanna go further."

Max's eyes light up at your words. She can't believe you're giving her this, trusting her enough to let her see you, all of you. She's been dying to touch you, to explore every inch of the body that she loves being held by. She sits up, straddling you, her hands already reaching for the hem of your shirt.

"I thought you'd never ask," she teases, pulling your shirt off and tossing it aside. Her fingers trace the lines of your muscles, admiring the way your body responds to her touch. She can feel your heart pounding in your chest, can sense your nervousness. But she also sees the desire in your eyes, the want.

Her hands move to your belt, unbuckling it slowly, her eyes never leaving his. She can see you swallow hard, your chest heaving.

Max is grinning, enjoying the power she holds over you. "It'll be good. You'll love this, baby, trust me." In smooth, practised motions, she undoes the button on your jeans, then your zipper, her knuckles brushing against your hardness. She can feel you throbbing, eager for her touch.

"I do trust you," you say. With a groan, you hide your face against her, burrowing at the spot where her shoulder and neck meet.

"You're so big, babe," she whispers, her hand slipping inside your boxers, wrapping around your length. Max bites her lip, looking up at you with wide, eager eyes. She can feel your thickness in her hand, can barely wrap her fingers around it. "You're pulsing in my hand." Max sounds delighted.

"Shut up," you grit out, face probably burning red with all her teasing. It's all you can do to remember to breathe.

"Uh huh." She strokes you gently, feeling you grow even harder in her hand. Up and down the shaft, twisting at the head. You can't believe a girl is touching you. Not only that, but she's doing it in a way that you've only done to yourself in the privacy of your room, like Max knows just how you like it. "Do you like that, baby?" she asks, her voice soft and sweet. Encouraging. It makes you squirm.  "Do you like me touching you like this?"

Fuuuuck. "Ugh." Your hips jerk up, making a slick sound as you fuck up into her hand. "Yes."

After a while, when you're fully hard, Max starts making her way down. She kisses her way down your neck, your chest, lips exploring your body as her hands continue their tantalisingly slow up and down. She can feel you tense beneath her touch, but you don't stop her. "What are you-?"

"Shhh, baby. I just want to do something for you. It'll feel even better. Pinky promise."

She reaches your waistband, her fingers hooking into the top of your boxers. She looks up at you, checking in, making sure you're still okay with this. You nod. The sight of Max on her knees in front of you is fucking wow and the thought of saying no doesn't even cross your mind. Not like this. Not when your breath coming in short gasps and you just want her mouth around you.

"OK. Thank you for trusting me, baby," she whispers.

Your hands... you don't know what you're doing with them, don't know what to do at a time like this. It's not like you came over expecting to get blown today, so you didn't exactly look up the best etiquette for this. On her head seems like a safe option but also so lewd that you can't bring yourself too. "Of course," you say. "I love you. I-I trust you."

She smiles, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your stomach. "I love you too."

A deep breath in. You can do this. Max says you'll love it, and God, if you haven't imagined her mouth on you hundreds of times. She tugs your boxers down, freeing your erection. She says something to the effect of "oh, hello!" when it pops out, smacking you in the stomach cause you're just that fucking hard right now.

Max gasps when she finally sees it, her eyes widening in shock and awe. "Oh my god, baby," she breathes, her hand wrapping around the base, her thumb and middle finger not even able to meet. "If you told me you were packing all this, I might have done this sooner."

"Max..."

"I know, I know." Max laughs. She can see you blushing, can see the vulnerability in your eyes. Max smiles, running her finger along your length, feeling you shiver beneath her touch. "You're doing good," she tells you, then licks her lips. "Now can I taste it, baby?" she asks, her voice soft and pleading. "Please?"

When you nod your consent, Max leans down, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of your cock. She hears you gasp, sees your hips jerk slightly. When she's taking you into her mouth, just the head at first, you wonder if you've ever felt anything so good. It's warm. Crazy intense. Your hands stay on the bed, clutching at the covers, fisting it so you don't do something stupid like scream or cum right there and then.

She sucks gently, her tongue swirling around you.

"Aa-ah," comes the broken moan out of your mouth. Don't cum, don't cum, shit.

You're growing harder in her mouth than you even thought possible, the head hitting the soft palate at the roof of her mouth. There's too many textures, too many sensations. You cling onto the knowledge that this is Max doing this to you. For you. Whichever. Your caring, sweet, always clingy Max. You cling to the fact that she's probably loving this right now, if in a completely different way than you are, loving that you're letting her have this part of you.

She pulls off the slightest bit, just enough to speak, looking up at you. "Is this okay, baby?" she asks, her voice soft. "Do you like it?"

You nod, your eyes clamped shut. If you look down and see your dick in her mouth, there's no saying what you'll do. "Y-yes," you stammers. "It's amazing."

"Well, I'm glad, baby," she says. You can hear the smile in her voice, can feel her hands rubbing up and down your thighs to calm you down. "Tell me if this gets too much, alright? I'm gonna do a little more."

Nodding, you give her the OK.

A little more turns out to be a lot at once. Max returns to that steady rhythm, her head bobbing up and down. With the way her tongue is swirling, you might not have recognised that she's goimg each time. Until finally, you hit something, and you feel her gag slightly.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No, no, I'm fine," Max doesn't let you finish. "I want to."

She pulls back, taking a deep breath, before trying again. Biting your lip hard, you feel how Max relaxes her throat, taking you deeper this time, her hands gripping your thighs.

You're panting at this point. She must feel you growing closer, feel your body tensing. Her hand strokes the rest of your shaft, the bit she can't get in her mouth.

"No," you get out. You want to last, you want to make sure Max enjoys this as much as you are.

Now it's Max's time to apologise. She immediately pulls off, her eyes big and apologetic. "I'm sorry, God, I should have know that was too far, babe."

Instead of letting her think she was in the wrong, you lean down to kiss her. "No, you didn't do anything wrong," you murmur, even if it's hard to speak right now. Her shoulders are tense, worried, and you rub them. "I just didn't want to cum yet," you admit. You feel ready. You feel good. And it's all Max's doing. "I think I want... I want to be inside you."

Her eyes widen. Eventually Max nods, understanding, and scoots up to lie back on the bed. She reaches behind her to unbutton her shorts, sliding them and her panties off in one smooth motion. She wiggles out of them, leaving her naked and exposed. Her pussy is wet, her nerves making her ache for you. When she spreads her legs, inviting you in, you feel your mouth go dry.

"Come here, baby," she says, patting the spot next to her. "You're going to be so good, you know?"

Nervous isn't the right word. Excitement, maybe. You don't want to fuck this up, but at the same time you know Max wouldn't bedgrudge you if you do. Maybe she'd laugh, or playfully complain, but even if you bust a load right now she'd probably rub your back and tell you that you did good.

You gulp. "I don't know how to..."

"I know, baby. That's kinda part of it." Max leans in, pressing a soft placating kiss to your lips. "No one knows how to do something the first time. All I want is for you to be comfortable, OK? We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Nothing you don't want to. That helps.

Max takes your hand again. This time, she brings it between her legs. Lets you feel around, not judging how your fingers clumsily explore her pussy.

Knowing that you're going to put it in and feel all this, wet and warm and tight, around your cock makes your brain fry. 

"Do you feel how wet I am?" she whispers. "I'm gonna love it. Just let me guide you in. You can't mess this up."

You keep your eyes fixed on Max, letting her keep you as calm as you can be in this situation. Her hand, still unable to wrap around your girl, directs you to her entrance, replacing your fingers with your cock. Your heart is pounding in your chest as she lines herself up with your head. For the first time, you feel a woman's soft folds around the tip of your cock. An inviting heat practically begs you to take her, to shove yourself right in, and you can't help but shiver at the sensation.

"Max."

"Shh. Slow," she whispers. "Just push in slow, feel how I fit around you. Take your time."

You do as she says, pushing in slowly, her warmth enveloping you. Your body screams at you to move faster. Inch by agonising inch. Your hands let go of the sheets, reaching to grasp her, holding Max by the hips now. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do to stop Max from sucking you until you came. But now, with half of your shaft buried inside her and Max's hand still wrapped around your base, you realise how close you still are. How bad of a decision it was to not wait until you calmed down a little, because fuck, you think you're going to blow.

Max's nails dig into your shoulder, and she takes a deep breath. Her shaky "oh God" makes you moan, clutching at her hips tighter to hold on to your sanity. Luckily, it seems like you both need some time, so no one complains when you stop about halfway inside her. Max slowly adjusts to your size, and you're adjusting to the fact that you're inside of someone for the first time and it feels like heaven.

"Do you like this, baby?" she asks, her voice breathless. "Do you like being inside me?"

"God yes," you groan out. You can barely even recognise your own voice, thick with pleasure. The tight heat, the softness, it envelops you and you can't help but bite your lip as you tell yourself over and over to not cum yet. Even without moving, her muscles are clenching around you, and it's so intense that it's overwhelming.

"OK, baby," she pants, after a while. You're calmer now. At least, you hope so. "Now you can move." 

So you do. You sink in slowly but surely, taking it all in. Once you're fully inside her, you freeze for a moment, unsure of what to do. Max, however, is not. She wraps her legs around your waist, her heels digging into your back, and begins to move her hips, grinding against you.

Max guides you, showing you how to thrust, how to set the pace, how she likes it. She likes it when you swivel your hips, but hates it when you change up the speed too much. When her hips gyrate, she wants it deeper. You're a fast learner. Every thrust makes her moan, and you're just following Max's lead. Trying not to lose yourself in it. Her soft moans are the sweetest reward.

Max wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you closer, encouraging you. 

"You're doing great," she says, her eyes locked on yours. "Just like that. Keep going."

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes locked with Max's. This is it. You're making love to the love of your life, and you can't believe how good it feels. Max's slick walls slide against you, gripping your cock with every roll of her hips. You begin to mimic her movements, use what you've learned.

Max lets out soft, needy whines, her body arching to meet your inexperienced but eager thrusts. She's taking in every inch of you, her pussy stretching and contracting around you. Her eyes roll back in her head.

"B-baby, please," she calls out, "cum for me, cum inside me. I want to feel it."

"Close. Wait for me," you groan, your body trembling.

And then, in a wave of pleasure, your body jerks. It feels like a bolt of lightning, a shock to the system. Your cock pulses deep inside of Max as you spill your seed deep within her. Max lets out a loud moan as you fill her, her body shuddering as her own orgasm washes over her. Her pussy clamps down tightly around you, milking you dry as she rides out her climax.

Together, you two lay there, panting. "Oh my God. That was amazing," you say, before laughter takes over you. Nothing's funny, but there's too much joy, too much happiness to not let out. She joins in, until you're two giggling messes cuddled up in the sheets, basking in the afterglow. She whispers sweet nothings into your hair, telling you how proud she is of you, how lucky she is that you let her experience your first with you.

[scekrex]

NSFW How about Adam taking dick for the first time and is kinda nervous so Adam is on top to give him more control and set the pace, reader helping him steady and when he finally takes it all, he collapsed, unintentionally squishing those hot man tits on reader face

I not only adore the idea of Adam taking Dick for the first time, I also love his fucking man tits, like give em to me, lemme squeeze em n kiss em n leave hickeys n bite marks all over the soft flesh- okay enough I'm sorry lol.

The deeper you go, the better you feel

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, anal sex

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

It was weird, despite being on top Adam felt strange, he would maybe even go as far as to say that he was feeling nervous, scared even. The first man felt open, bare and that was definitely not because he was naked - he had never had a problem with that. He also felt exposed in a non-sexual way, he felt vulnerable and he knew it showed, maybe that was because he didn’t even try to hide it, there was no reason, you’d figure it out eventually and playing with open cards while having sex had never backfired on him.

Adam’s legs were shaking as he lifted his hips up - the first man was awkwardly seated in your lap, his hips pushed upwards. You had prepared him beforehand, had made sure he had been laying down comfortably on his stomach as you had worked him open - to his surprise it had been a lot less painful than he had thought, you had some really skillful fingers. But now that he was stretched open, ready to take dick - or so he thought, at least. One of your hands reached out to grab a firm hold of his hips, not only to keep the first man in place, but also to distract his mind a little, your free hand made its way around Adam’s body, grabbing ahold of your erection while you bit back a needy moan, Adam would hear enough of that later, there was also no need to pressure him, the first man was putting enough pressure on himself. “Okay,” you said loud and clear as the tip of your dick brushed against the brunette’s entrance, the violent shudder that shot through his body made you pause for a moment, you wanted to give him some time to mentally prepare himself, Adam on the other hand seemed to have a different plan. While you were about to explain to him that he was supposed to take it slow, that you’d help guide him through it, he tore his hips away from your touch and sank down on your dick in one go. The moan that was actually a mix between a moan and a scream was loud, yet you were sure there was no real tone of pain in it. He kept sinking down, down, down, the thought of a break to get used to your dick filling him up didn’t seem to cross his mind and while your logical mind told you to stop him and slow him down, your lust clouded mind told you differently. Adam’s face was scrunched up in pleasure and a little bit of discomfort, but the main emotions on his face were lust and desire. And his body just kept eating up what Adam was feeding it.

A quiet whine fell from Adam’s lips as soon as his buttcheeks made contact with your bare thighs and the moment he was seated in your lap again, his as pressed flush against your thighs, he collapsed. His body simply seemed to give out despite Adam having different plans in mind, he fell over, his face hit the headboard of the bed - not hard though, he wasn’t in pain - and his tits were pressed against your face. A surprised moan escaped you as Adam’s body buried you underneath it but when the soft flesh of Adam’s tits were shoved against your face, you took that as your invitation to kiss them and leave hickeys all over them to mark your territory. Your teeth gazed over the pure skin that Adam continued to press against your face as he tried to steady himself. Both of your hands were grabbing his waist and you thrust your hips upwards, it wasn’t a harsh movement, it was the most gentle thrust you could offer and yet that seemed to fuck Adam over even more. A groan fell from his lips, in his voice not the slightest hint of pain which either meant he hid it - that you doubted - or that he was truly starting to enjoy himself. “You okay, big guy?” you asked quietly as you squeezed his waist teasingly, earning yourself yet another soft moan from the first man, your answer was a quiet hum in agreement, he was out of words, that was obvious. “You need a break?” That made him raise his head from the headboard immediately, he wanted to push his body back in order to look down at you but before he was able to fully do so, you sucked his nipple between your lips and eventually fully inside your mouth, causing the brunette on top of you to crumble down yet again. This time he was able to catch himself before his face smashed against the headboard again though. “Fuck no, keep- shit,” he wriggled his hips a little, trying to adjust himself on top of you. A break would kill him, a break he couldn’t take. Adam whimpered as he lifted his hips upwards a little, before he sunk down again, his juicy tits were still pressed against your face as he moved himself up and down on your dick. He felt so overwhelmingly full, so stuffed and he knew he wanted more, wanted that feeling to last. Because in the beginning it had felt strange, new and sort of uncomfortable, but now that his body was getting used to the feeling he craved more, so fucking much more.

And while Adam fucked himself up and down your dick, you had the most perfect task that kept your mouth and your mind busy. The nipple that you had sucked on to tease him and keep the brunette into place slipped away from your lips and you gently bit down on the soft flesh next to it, careful not to hurt him seriously but firm enough to make it sting a little. “Shit- fuck- do that-” the man on top of you was out of breath already and from experience you knew, it wasn’t because the movements were too exhausting to perform. It was because there was simply no feeling that was comparable to being filled up by your lover’s dick, it surely was absolutely breathtaking. And when Adam started to beg, when his walls finally crumbled down into little pieces and he let his guard down to fully enjoy himself, you knew this would forever be his first time taking dick, but not the last time.

[astermath]

nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he���d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

tag list <3

@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar  @spr3id  @deadandstill  @777iii  @magicboytrash  @dogdevourer @wiipes @sierrahhh  @crayzmarvelfan800 @azxulaa  @astridyoo15   @rexorangecouny  @azxulaa @jointherebellion215 @diorrfairy @chanluuvr @idontexist-anymore @wolfiealina

[xoxoxkisses]

Wildflower

desc: strangers-> friends, friends-> lovers, fluff, angst, modern au, fem reader

warnings: sh! mention, angst(again), not proofread.

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You were different from most people. You were quiet and kept to yourself unlike everyone else. Because of this, you didn’t have many friends…actually you didn’t have any. You didn’t mind though, you liked the peace of keeping to yourself.

As you were walking to your next class, you heard a lot of people talking about two people. You overheard their names were Yuichiro and Muichiro. Apparently they were new kids and they were “super cute” according to most of the girls in your class. As your class was starting, someone knocked on the door. Everyone paused as the teacher went to open the door. As she walked back in, a boy with black hair and team tips followed her. “Everyone, this is Muichiro Tokito! I hope you all give him a warm welcome here!” She smiled at him and he bowed towards everyone. “Muichiro, you can sit by Y/n L/n. Y/n, raise your hand.” You looked at the awkward boy and raised your hand.

As he sat down beside you, you could feel the stares from everyone and kept your head low. The teacher continued the lecture and you continued writing your notes. “Um excuse me, Y/n, right?” You looked up at him with your usual blank stare. “Yeah?” “Can I have a pen please?” You rolled your eyes at him. How irresponsible. You grabbed your bag and started looking for a pen. You found one and gave it to him, his face lit up like you gave him a million dollars. “Thanks Y/n.” You just nodded at him and continued taking notes.

At lunch you went to your usual spot in the back. You were usually the only one who sat there, besides the few times some people had to sit there due to the seats being full. As you were eating, someone came over to you. “Y/n, may I sit with you?” You looked up to see the boy from earlier. You covered your mouth and swallowed. “Don’t you have anyone else you want to sit with?” When you said that he let out a sigh and rubbed his neck. “Well you see, you’re the only person I’ve talked to today.” You turned back to your food and patted your hand on the table space beside you, inviting him to sit. You didn’t see the smile on his face as he realized you allowed him to sit there.

“So Y/n, why does no one else sit here?” You were kind of surprised someone cared that you were alone. “Well, I’m different from the others. No one really tries to become my friend and I don’t try to become theirs, so I’ve sort of earned the title of being the ‘loner’ of this school.” He seemed to be deep in thought, thinking about what you said, when he suddenly lit up again. “Well now you won’t have to be a loner bc you have me!” You smiled to yourself and continued eating.

Ever since that day, Muichiro clung to you everywhere you went. He mostly talked to you and told you things about him and you sometimes would say something about yourself. You found out he had a twin, Yuichiro. And the two of you became friends as well. It seemed everyone knew about your newfound friendship with the brothers, and more people tried being your friend. You declined however, you knew it was just because of the twins.

“Y/n, can I come over today?” It was usual for him to come over. Yuichiro never did, but you didn’t mind. “Yeah sure.” He walked home with you that day, talking all the way to your house. Once you got there, you led him up to your room. “I’m going to go change, if you want to aswell, you know where your clothes are.” You grabbed a hoodie and some shorts and went to your bathroom to change. When you got back, Muichiro was already changed. You both agreed on watching some movies and play board games.

As the two of you were watching the movie, Muichiro began to get curious. “Y/n?” You acknowledged him but didn’t turn to him. “Yeah?” You didn’t see, but he got uncomfortable knowing his question was not any of his business. “Why do you always were long sleeves?” You felt your breath get caught in your throat. “I-um, I just get cold easily.” He sighed at your response. “Y/n, i know that’s not why.” You scratched your throat out of nervousness. He grabbed your hand. “Don’t do that, it causes a mark. Y/n, please be honest with me, are you hurting yourself?” Muichiro was smarter than he looked, he could pinpoint when your mood shifted. The way your eyes moved away from him and your demeanor changed.

He pulled you into a hug. “You know I’m here for you, right?” You hugged him back, holding onto him tightly as you nodded your head. You couldn’t tell if it was him confronting you or him comforting you that made you cry, but before you knew it, you were sobbing into his shirt. He whispered the same thing over and over again. “I’m here for you.” You two stayed like that for a few minutes, until your sobs quieted and your breathing steadily slowed. “Can I stay the night?” You nodded into his shirt. You didn’t want him to leave and he knew that. The two of you had only been friends for 3 months, but you each meant a lot to the other.

As he went to get an extra blanket and pillow, you followed holding onto his shirt. You didn’t want to let him go. He knew that too, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Once he had the blanket and pillow he motioned for you to go lie down. You hesitated, but you let go of his shirt and lied down. He soon followed and got beside you. He got comfortable and when he did, he wrapped his arm around your waist. You curled up next to him, you were already close, but you wanted to be closer. Soon enough, you both fell asleep.

It’s been a few months since that night, and Muichiro couldn’t deny his feelings for you anymore. “Y/n, I’m coming over today.” You looked up from what you were doing and smiled at him. “Okay!”

At your house, you could tell he was nervous. You grabbed his hand, he flinched. “Hey, are you okay?” He looked at you and it seemed like his worries went away. You were looking into his eyes, feeling the tension in the room. Suddenly, he leaned in and his lips crashed into yours. You were taking aback, but you kissed him back. He pulled away. “I’m sorry Y/n, I like you, a lot.” You chuckled at him. “Me too Muichiro.”

Since that day, the two of you began dating. Muichiro would refer to you as a wildflower. So beautiful, but no one knew exactly what they were. They were quiet, yet loud. It seemed they hid themselves away in fields and were only brought out if someone grabbed one. Just like you.

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a/n: I haven’t been feeling the best so I won’t be posting as much in the next couple of days!

[pinkwright]

𐙚.ﾟ۪ ๑ ۫ wearing ur cross on my chain for it. —

ellie williams x black female!reader

inspiration ᧓ take care of you by charlotte day wilson w/ syd.

author's note ⌅ awkward fucking ending but that's life ! thought i would drop anotha drabble before the year ends — consider this a happy new years gift <3z.

warnings ⌅ 18+. more ellie focused u could say. scissoring. needy!ellie. readers just happy to be there. lots love bc i love love sawry n ellie's a canon lovergirl idc. dramatic ass metaphors bc it's me. some fluff. pussydrunk!ellie. reader has locs this time round. ellie likes to talk (canon). ellie calls reader 'mama' like twice (well!). cursing. slight dry humping n fingering. mentions of cunnilingus.

.𖥔 1873

maybe it's one of those days, where she's feeling emotionally overwhelmed, her love growing in her throat like the infection lingering in her veins, bordering on painful in the way it digs its branches into her lungs, stuttering her breath as though it wished to suffocate her. and she's just watching, staring you down as you flit through menial activities; humming as you fold the laundry, or sweetly sigh at the sweet smell that wafts from the tray of muffins you lift from the oven, and despite the normalcy of the act, her eyes wash with tenderness, need so vicious it would knock you off kilter, disrupt your center of gravity so the only thing that kept you grounded were the stars in her eyes.

when she's finally had enough of torturing herself, of her heart clenching tightly, borderline to giving out, she stands from the comfort of the knitted rug, controller discarded beside the humming console, not even having to pause because the death of her character had been neglected for the past thirty minutes, thirty minutes that felt like nothing when her gaze drunk you in. her sock-clad feet muffle her approach, ellie slinking quietly behind your idle frame, so quiet that the slide of her strong arms wrapping around your waist trigger your fright, a soft gasp as you freeze before your body is relaxing in recognition, a gentle lull into solace. ellie's so consumed by the ache in her chest, blinded by the way it steals her breath away, to gift to you, that she can't even bring herself to chuckle at your skittish nature, palms sliding up your top to press against the skin of your ribs and you yelp at her cold hands, the press of her fingertips burning into your skin.

ellie sighs, caught in a pink-tinted haze when your scent wafts around her like a cloud, misting her senses as she buries her head in the dip of your neck, breathing in your scent as she allows herself to drown in the aroma of your exaltation. her thumbs mindlessly caress the dips of your ribcage, the delicate skin silken against her calloused fingers, and your eyebrows are furrowing in concern at her lack of response, thoughts ridden by the idea that it might be one of her harder days, one where she just gets too in her head, too swallowed up by the grief that it physically consumes her, almost vulturine in its nature, but, oh, you couldn't be any more wrong. your tender cooing is cut off by ellie's hand sliding into the waistband of your little cotton shorts, not hesitating as her lithe fingers dip into your panties, humming huskily when you jolt, lips parting in shock. she's meticulous, reflexive, with how her other arm tightens around your waist to keep you still, pausing, before skimming her parted lips against the skin of your neck, her heavy pants brushing against the heated skin as your hand shoots out to wrap around her wrist.

and ellie's bringing her fingers to your clit, just barely circling the sensitive nub forcing herself to slow down, to savour you, and the reigns of her self-control slipping from her grasp cue her tells, breathing heavy in your ears as she tugs you against her, a raspy groan punched from her chest, tells of her hunger, her devotion. when her fingertips brush your growing wetness, your breath catches, eyes fluttering as you tighten your hand around her tattooed wrist – if ellie was conscious, sober from the drug that was desperation; she would tease you, drop her voice low, into that taunting lilt that tears you down and simultaneously builds you up, murmuring into your skin, "what, baby? you need something?"

but she can't, too ridden with the urge to have you, feeling the ache in her chest settle a little with the noise that escapes you, bathing in its sincerity like it was a balm slaved across the decaying skin of festering wounds, soothing the ache that blisters across her heart. the sinking of her teeth harshly into your neck when you buck towards the faintest of grazes, touch so slight it fueled the building heat in you, whining when the auburnette simply holds you tightly against her, hips rocking to grind against your ass like some depraved degenerate; ellie's cunt throbs at the thought, soaking her boxers. her voice is low, raspy, rough from disuse when she finally murmurs, calloused finger dipping into your clenching canal as she palms your swollen clit, "let me feel this pretty fucking pussy, mama."

and then you're in the bed, splayed on the sheets you share, at her mercy, and ellie's not even bothering to remove your top, shoving the hem up to your pretty neck, gaze intent on watching your tits spill out of it before harshly lifting your hips to roughly tug your shorts down the silky skin of your legs, squeezing at the soft flesh of your belly, her eyes fluttering in satisfaction. and she drools at the site of your pretty soaking pussy, the strings of wetness breaking from your panties as she tugs them down your legs and as much as she wants to dig her face in the welcoming heat; slide her tongue into your needy hole before wrapping her lips around your clit, the liquid caramel slugging in her throat and the pounding in her chest are her only source of thought, the drive for how she takes you, so she's swiftly pulling her shorts and boxers down, ripping off her tank, looking like a starved animal as she crawls towards your quivering form.

her large cold hand is wrapping under the bend of your knee folding the limb to her will, spreading you out as though you were a bud forced to bloom by her attentive rays, her light – before climbing between your legs, hovering her leaking cunt just above yours, pausing to forcefully exhale a shaky breath to reign in her slipping self-control before she lowers herself on to you. her mind foggy and her chest heaving as she lets out a long satisfied groan, her hips bucking at the warmth of your soft, soaking wet pussy against hers. and she's bending your knee to spread your lips apart, rolling her hips to fuck down on you, her swollen thrumming clit bumping against yours with every insatiable buck of her hips and ellie's hunger flames in gratification. her eyebrows furrow in concentration, rusty hairs scrunching as if the pleasure angered her, her other hand wrapping around your hip when you whimper and try to grind up against her, press closer, deeper – holding you down, feeling too close to insanity to have you grinding back against her so thoughtlessly.

the room is thick with tension, riddled with the slews of desire and devotion, both in filth and adoration, and ellie's panting heavily, her lips parted as she focuses on the feeling, breathless as she keeps her moss-darkening gaze on where you two meet, grunting a pathetic moan when she sees how much your kissing cunts glisten, a shiny mess of translucent sticky essence that makes her throat tighten, "mmmh... god, f-fuck, baby, fucking perfect pussy for me, jus- just lay there and fucking t-take it for me, yeah?" tongue unhinged as she continues with raspy chuckles of "making a mess of me, angel, can't help it... pretty cunt's so soft, and wet, and mine to use, yeah? fucking gonna make me come for you, baby."

and ellie's dizzy, can't hear passed the blood in her ears or the squelching presses of her pussy against yours and the heat is thrumming under her skin, her eyes fluttering before she forces them to look down at you. the twinge of guilt at her possibly neglecting you thwacked by the sheer pleasure on your face, the slurred begging and pleading slipping passed your swollen lips digging into the muscle in her chest as if every word were a venom-tipped thorn finding home in the beating muscle. the sight has her pussy clenching, her warm juices leaking onto your messy bud, her hold on your waist subconsciously letting up as though her body knew the reprieve was the push you needed, a coo to the pitiful way you begin to fuck against her. symphonised whines and murmured odes a sensual musicality of your bodies, metaphysical atoms destined to bond; ellie rolls her hips to drag across your clit just right, "come on, baby, fucking give it to me." and you're exploding, a shriek ripping out of your chest as your body freezes then thrashes in waves.

the leak of juices against ellie makes her pussy flutter, tightly clenching your leg in her hand, branding the skin like it was all she was meant to do, continuing to desperately roll her hips against you as she follows your crest – her chest seizing as her eyes roll back into her head, blinded by the pleasure as her cunt clenches and spasms almost violently, following the rhythm set by her racing heart, a needy low moan passing her lips when she comes down. but god, that fucking ache comes back full force when she sees the fucked out look on your pretty face; lips bee sting swollen, dark eyes lidded, and god, she doesn't mean to she doesn't even think but her hips are starting up again. a low whimper escaping her mouth in sensitivity, eyebrows scrunching when she hears you whine, your pussy trying to tug away from hers and she coos at your gentle sob, "i know, baby, i know just... just let me use you please, too fucking perfect for me" the pleasure aching so fucking good, she's anguished for it. her blunt nails dig into your hip to pull you back against her, her mouth parting on a fucking whine as she uses you, her movements aggressive in their desperation, and fuck she's gonna pass out, fucking against you so hard and deep, but slow, like she wants to fuck her cum into you and make sure it sticks. "god, fuckin', just like that... i'm gonna come again for you, baby, fuck my shit so deep into you, mama, into this stupid little fucking cunt."

and she makes a sight; her head thrown back, lithe, toned body slick with sweat as her muscles tense and tighten with her harsh movement, pretty perky tits bouncing but what really gets you there is the auburn happy trail slinking towards her pretty cunt, the hairs glistening with slick as her abs tighten n shift, and oh my god, you were coming, stars bursting behind your lids as you fall limply against the bedsheets, pretty locs spreading across the pillow like a halo, angelic in the way you absolutely lose yourself on her pussy and that makes ellie spiral. the girl throws her head back when her orgasm sneaks up on her, shocking a needy whimper from her lips that you have never heard, ellie's eyes widening in shock as her hips buck in a way she can't control, fucking against you like she need the friction to breathe – and in a way, she did. "fuckkk, i'm coming, baby, god."

౨ৎ.tags... @abenomeiiii @naomis-daydream @littlegingerperson @lppriceisright

[silverflqmes]

you are legit my favorite ffvii writer at the moment dude. if you feel like it, do you think you can write smth about being childhood friends w zack and reuniting with him one day? make sure to take care of yourself 💕 :)

໒⦂ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

notes. HELP YOU’RE SO SWEET ANON??? IWOWJDJDK i haven’t written as much yet and i still have lots to learn but that really warmed my heart to hear 🥹🥹🥹 i decided to combine this with another request, i hope that’s okay with you both!<3

genre. fluff + angst

disclaimer. tifa speaking on cloud can either be platonic or romantic — whatever you wanna think just don’t start up a whole ship war bc it’s embarrassing as hell. obviously this is a zack fic so focus on zack smh.

zack fair x gn!reader.

“you’re.. leaving for SOLDIER?”

you shouldn’t be shocked, that was the last thing you should have been since you had been the one to encourage his decision.

and yet.. why did it hurt? you had known that it would, it was only naturally — but not like this.

zack averted his stare from the star blanketed sky, smiling solemnly. “sure am. you helped me realize that becoming a hero is something that i should do — that the world needed my kind of help.. so that’s,” he paused, allowing the evening breeze to shift his dark bangs. “exactly what i gotta do.”

you fell into silence for a moment, pursing your lips together as you considered his words.

it had been your crush’s dream from young, since seeing sephiroth on propaganda and hearing of his endeavors, to become a hero. the life he’d led in gongaga was wonderful, peaceful.. but you knew, deep down, he’d wanted to make that name for himself. that zack was.. meant for greater things.

and you, torn between your feelings for him and the need to encourage him as his best friend.. had no choice but to put aside what you felt to urge him to embrace his dreams.

when he received no answer, the raven haired teen took it as a sign to continue, leaning back on his elbows. “as of now, you’re the only one i’ve told about my decision — cuz well.. as you know, my parents aren’t super chill with it.” he laughed out, shaking his head. “so i’m gonna leave tomorrow night. got everything packed up already, a letter ready for them to pass on and i’ll be good to go!”

“tomorrow night? so soon?” you nearly interrogated him, only to respond with a slow nod. “you have my word, don’t worry about it.” should you tell on your friend? would that keep him just a little while longer if his parents knew and prevented his departure? would he hate you for it and finally give you a reason to stop feeling this way about him?

no.. you couldn’t live with yourself if he had hated you. that was practically death served on a silver platter, your heart would never start again if zack had expressed contempt for you.

for a second, longing flashed in his eyes before he allowed himself to grin, patting your back gently. “you’re amazing y/n!! i knew i could count on you no matter what! i’ll be sure to bring you something real nice from the big city!! and that’s a promise!”

a smile that didn’t quite meet your gaze etched itself onto your lips as you let out a hum of agreement. “you’re the amazing one, zack. i’ll..” miss you. “..be holding you to that promise, so you better keep it.”

three years passed and no sign of zack. the promise stood, but remained unfulfilled.

you should have expected it, that becoming a SOLDIER meant never seeing him again. you knew he was alive, a letter would have come if he wasn’t, and his parents kept you posted thankfully.

yet, there was still an emptiness you felt in his absence. every year, you’d told yourself that perhaps maybe, he would come home to visit this time.

now, having turned eighteen, you had decided to leave the comfort of gongaga as zack once had, and journeyed to nibelheim — a village in the mountains. it was small, quaint as your hometown was, perhaps colder, but after being offered a job through your parents, it called to you.

your mother had been from nibelheim and met your father in midgar — who had left gongaga to pursue a career in research as she had.

despite their retirement, they had developed many connections.. one of which, had been in the mountain village.

when you pleaded to leave and join up with your friend in the city he’d left for, your parents had urged you not to, and were strict on it.. as though something had been terribly wrong there.

you’d never asked why they retired so early on, and just assumed they had wanted to settle since they’d made their money.

but it didn’t.. fully seem that way.

“didja hear y/n? there’s a group of SOLDIERS coming down here tonight. ahhh, i hope cloud is there — i haven’t seen him in years.” your companion and guide sighed out, pacing about idly as you jotted down notes on your observations of the terrain.

tifa had been a friend you’d made upon your arrival. she was a year younger, but a real go getter and great help on your expeditions. in the beginning you worried for her safety, stringing her along as you did — only for her to protect you from the perils you feared.

you’d have to ask if that mentor of hers was willing to show you a move or two on self defense.

“cloud, huh? is he in SOLDIER, too?” you had told the girl before you already about your old buddy, as there was no possible way of her exposing your feelings for him.

and honestly, it was comforting to confide in someone for a change.

she nodded eagerly at your question, smiling softly. “he should be, it was his dream to become a SOLDIER, like sephiroth — that’s what he told me one day before he left.. and he’d promised to always protect me, no matter what.”

your writing seemed to pause at her comment, head lowering as you willed yourself to chuckle despite your anguish. “is that so?” zack, as you recalled, had dreamt of the same. “well, i hope he comes home safe if he’s a part of that group.” you smiled a little, closing your notebook before standing up from your crouched position.

“that should be enough for today, thanks for coming along again — i think i’m almost there with reaching my conclusion on this strange increase in mako spillage on the landscape.. but i just- can’t seem to put my finger on it.” you muttered, knitting your brows together before casting a glance over at mt. nibel- the highest point of the area you had moved to. “whatever, they’re keeping in that reactor.. there’s something really off about it.”

the burgundy eyed female followed your gaze before humming absentmindedly. “yeah.. i’m hoping those guys coming today might know or at least clean up over there.. i’d hate to see what might happen if the pollution intensifies down here.” she answered softly, helping you up before looking ahead. “for now, let’s get back — it’s almost sundown.”

at the mention of the visitors on their way from midgar, your thoughts went to your old friend, but you reprimanded yourself quickly. you would not have hopes again — as they only ever existed to get shattered and turn into despair.

and yet.. that one percentage asking but what if, remained.

the sun had drowned into billowing clouds, a shade of golden casting over the scenery as you walked beside your friend, exhaustion creeping up on you. however, you reminded yourself that the descent was always easier than the ascent.

“and we’re back, thank you for taking the tifa express way~” your travel partner giggled, earning a smile in return from you. she always had a way of brightening the mood with her optimism. kind of like.. nevermind.

the brunette looked around when she found the villagers gathered in the centre, adjusting her hat with a pout. “did we just miss them? i didn’t think we would be this late..”

you copied her actions, letting out a sound of contemplation. “maybe they turned in, midgar is a long way from here.. i’m sure they wanted to just take things easy for the night and start off fresh tomorrow.”

tifa paused for a minute to think before letting out a sigh and nodding. “i guess you have a point — tomorrow, then.” she smiled again, holding out her thumb. “i’m gonna be their guide, i’ll make sure of it!”

you rolled your eyes in amusement before nudging her with your elbow. “whatever helps you sleep at night, tifa.. i’ll catch you in the morning, in that case. i still gotta sort some things with information i picked up today.” a trip to that mako reactor and your research might at last be complete. perhaps.. you could convince the group in bringing you along- especially if your friend would be going.

it was the perfect in!

“mhm, see you in the morning, y/n! don’t be up all night doing that work of yours if you wanna wake up on time!”

with those parting words, followed by a wave, the female dressed in orange walked towards the direction of her home, eagerly greeting her father at the door before joining him inside.

your shoulders fell, a low exhale escaping your lips as you adjusted your backpack. and just like that, she was gone.

you made your way into the inn you’d been staying at for the time being, rubbing your eyes.

it was a temporary arrangement, given you hadn’t fully decided yet if you would be staying permanently in nibelheim. however, the living accommodations worked just fine.

you hadn’t thought yourself difficult to please, anyway. so long as you had the necessary essentials needed to live, all was well. that was what you’d learned growing up in gongaga.

entering the inn, you greeted the host before ascending the steps, pausing when you caught sight of a towering, silver haired.. male? unless a woman could stand at nearly seven feet.. and across from him, stood.. no — had your eyes deceived you?

“z-zack..?”

the conversation between the pair, whatever it had been about, came to a full stop as they turned to face you, shock painting on the face of the SOLDIER with the darker hair.

“y/n..??” he spoke up incredulously, blinking over at you as his jaw fell just slightly. “no way- what’re you doing here.. in nibelheim of all places? i thought you were-”

“in gongaga?” you asked with a small smile before shaking your head. “my parents found me work here, so i moved just a few months ago. never thought i’d see you here, before returning home, no less.”

zack could feel the coldness of your words, piercing through him like icicles tipped in poison. pissed was an understatement.

the taller behind him smiled awkwardly before moving towards his door, not wanting to be muddled into the affairs of his triend. “i believe you both have some catching up to do.. i will see you in the morning, zack.”

the boy in question parted his lips in protest, but the cat-eyed male was gone before he could do so. damn!

awkwardly, he turned to meet your awaiting stare, swallowing thickly.

“sorry, i’ve.. had a lot going on.” he confessed, lowering his head in shame. “i wanted to come home sooner — especially after making first class just recently- but things.. everything that has been going on as of late at shinra, it’s been really messed up.” zack confessed, clenching his fists at his side before letting out a glum chuckle. “and it just keeps getting weirder.. what were the odds i’d find you here of all places?”

you leaned against the window, folding your arms as you gazed out. “close to none. i guess it’s a thing of fate, maybe.” you offered, sliding your eyes back to his zircon ones. “seems my parents were right to not send me to the city with whatever ‘messed up things’ that happened.”

the SOLDIER nodded, allowing a brief silence to pass before smiling. “they probably were, yeah.. don’t think you would have liked midgar much, anyway. it’s all gross and industrial looking.. although!” he blurted suddenly, perking up as though he’d remembered something. “wait right here, i’ve got something i want to give you!”

you rose a brow at his random burst of energy, reminding you that despite the change in his appearance, the development he had gone through.. he was still your zack, and that wouldn’t change.

he disappeared into his room before you could answer, rummaging by the noises you’d made out, which had you shielding your mouth with your hand. “don’t get lost in there, now.”

“like i would!” he laughed before emerging from his quarters, holding out a messily wrapped box for you. “no matter where i went, i always kept this with me, thinking that maybe- just maybe, i would pass through our hometown and find you to hold up that promise i made to you. finally,” the spiky haired SOLDIER paused, grinning brightly. “i was able to fulfill it!”

you blinked in surprise, taking the package into your hand as you felt your face burn despite the coldness provided by the high altitudes of nibelheim. “you.. remembered?”

appalled, zack let out a gasp of offense. “remembered? how could i forget?? a promise is a promise, and i intended on keeping it!” he huffed out before raising his fists before him in excitement. “now come on, open it!!”

overcome with a sudden happiness, to know you hadn’t been forgotten despite the negative thoughts you’d created, you opened up his gift to you with earnest. a glimpse of green entered your vision as you quirked a curious brow. a plant? no.. zack wasn’t the type to keep plants.

finally removing the top completely, you stared down at the present before stifling a laugh into your forearm. “you- you got me a cactuar.. stuffed toy?” you spluttered in surprise.

of course he did — it was zack for goodness sake..

“sure did!! ya like it?? it looked authentic when i saw it in the window!” he answered proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

you continued laughing, unable to contain yourself as you held your stomach. “it’s so random- but that’s.. that’s just like you to get me!” you wiped a tear, allowing a smile nearly as bright as his, or perhaps- even brighter for a change, to replace your initial frown. “i love it a lot, but.. you wanna know what i love more?”

a mixture of interest and excitement sparked in his eyes as he inched closer, eager to hear. “what? what is it??”

having caught your breath, you closed your eyes, holding the plush close to your heart. “being here- reunited with you, again..”

like an invisible string, knots and tangles had appeared in the thread that connected you both. however, it wasn’t impossible to unravel and detangle that which connected you both, to allow an opportunity of reunion.

( even if it was the right place, but sadly.. the wrong time. )

notes. bittersweet open ending cuz well.. it’s nibelheim- anyway, i hope this was okay! i think my writing style kinda changed.. scary. oh well! the support these last few days have been much appreciated<3 tysm you guys, hearts out to you fr<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[keyotos]

to sit in hell with you

summary ⎯ based on the the louvre by lorde. you and dan heng have been through rough times alone. why shouldn't you go through these times together?

tags ⎯ post dragon transformation. unestablished relationship (bc yes). friends to lovers (yes). pining (this is keyotos). love confession but the two idiots don't realize it.

tana's words ⎯ read the hsr leaks and dan heng's past destroyed me but it's so interesting at the same time?? i wanted to make the most angsty sad lovers to strangers fic ever but i am choosing kindness.

the chill that spread itself through the night was one of the many things that kept dan heng awake. after this particularly brutalizing mission, he had never felt more exhausted and confused.

where to go to now? what to do now? everything about his past had been a blur to him, with the exception of being a vidyadhara, of course. but now, what had happened, dan heng didn't know what to do with himself.

you took notice of this. dan heng was never really open about his past. he was very private and keen to solitude, even if you were his closest friend. but you never minded. you were more focused on the fact that he even spoke to you in the first place.

looking at dan heng now, he looks so much more different than the usual dan heng. dan heng was usually the "leader" of the group, always stepping in and taking action, always knowing what to do. but this time, dan heng looked so confused, so small.

it's a feeling that everyone knows, a feeling that everyone has experienced once in their life. but seeing it on dan heng looked so surreal. it was uncanny, to say the least.

it was a sorrowful sight; your closest friend going from tenacious to disoriented. you'd do anything to make him feel at least a little bit better.

"hey," you walked towards him, "how are you doing?" a stupid question, you realize. obviously, he is not doing well. you've made note of this in your head already.

"fine," he lies. dan heng doesn't know that you have caught onto the signals he produces every time he lies. he avoids eye contact, instead he looks down to the ground. he talks lesser than he usually does. and, this only happens when he's lying to you, the tips of his ears turn a slight crimson color.

"really?" you raise an eyebrow, indicating that you know he's lying.

dan heng sighs, still not facing towards you. "i'm a little shocked. but i'm fine."

"is it because of the..." you paused forming horns on top of your head, "and your..." you continued to gesture things, now trying to illustrate his long hair.

dan heng laughed and your heart warmed. at least he was laughing. "yeah. but i'm still pondering on where i go now," he crossed his arms. "with learning all of this, i don't know where to go."

you didn't say anything. if dan heng was trying to imply that he wanted to leave the express, you needed to push down the urge to grab onto him and ask him to stay.

dan heng didn't want to leave the express. he didn't want to leave for a few reasons: the nameless, learning about the stellaron inside stelle's body, and you. they were all important reasons, but to dan heng, you were reason enough to stay.

however, all good things must come to an end sometimes. after learning more about his past life, he couldn't risk hurting the express, especially hurting you out of all people. the thought of you even being in the slightest pain because of him made dan heng weak; you were too big of a risk to lose.

it was silent between the two of you. dan heng was looking to the ground while you were looking at him. you were admiring him, to say the least. he definitely looked different, but it was a good different. he looked luminescent, like he was glowing in the night sky. his horns shone brightly; the moon paled in comparison to his looks right now.

you hadn't registered how long you had been staring at him, because now dan heng removed his attention from the ground and placed it on you. when your eyes locked in a tight embrace, you briskly turned your head around to try to dismiss the fact that you were staring at dan heng.

dan heng frowned, "do i look weird?" he moved away from you.

your head jolted back as quickly as it jolted away, "what? no!" you exclaimed, moving closer. it was like wherever he went, you had to follow.

"you always look good," you blurted. realizing what you had just said, you quickly clamped your hand over your mouth. but clamping your hand over your mouth looked wrong, so you uncovered your mouth and buried your head in your hands. dan heng thought the sight was amusing, leaning closer to you now.

"that's not what i meant," you tried to save, "i mean⎯ it is. wait⎯ that came out wrong," you sighed, "it all came out wrong. well⎯ i mean⎯fuck!" was the final word that came out. how could you get so tongue⎯tied around him?

dan heng laughed, "thank you," he slightly smiled, trying to hide the red tint throughout his ear. one thing you didn't know about dan heng was when he was embarrassed, his entire ear would turn read.

"you could never look bad," you finally got out, "trust me." your sweet nothings just made dan heng turn redder. you were his closest friend, the person that knew him best. why is he getting so flustered at kind words?

"if you think you look awful, just try to think back to that one time i tried to give myself layers on the express," you shook your head. "that was weird."

you were still beautiful in my eyes, dan heng thought. you still are beautiful, he noticed as he watched you speak.

you thought back to all your memories with dan heng on the express. the nights where you laid on the ground, discussing various plots of your worst books. you loved complaining to dan heng, because even when you spout out nonsense he would still listen.

late night snacks in the kitchen with dan heng always made your night. you two would make a mess together, and surprisingly cleaning it up was more fun than making the actual mess.

and when you stayed the night in his room? when you woke up and were wrapped in blankets whilst still being on top of the ground. when you saw dan heng laying next to you with no blankets at all. when you pulled dan heng closer, feeling your skin buzz at his touch, and falling back asleep.

"dan heng," you faced him, "if what you were implying before⎯ if you really are going to leave the astral express, i must be truthful with you," you gulped. you weren't ready for this. but he needed to know.

"i don't want you to leave," you spoke to fast that the words jumbled together. catching your breath, you repeat yourself so that you sound more clear, "i don't want you to leave the astral express."

you breath again, this time more shakily, "i can't imagine it without you. i want you to stay⎯" stay with me, you wanted to say, "i want you to stay with us," you alternatively say.

your words said that you wanted dan heng to stay with everyone, but your eyes were telling differently. where you thought you knew dan heng better than he knew himself, dan heng knew deep in his bones that he knows you better than anyone else.

your eyes tell a story of longing. your eyes are squinting with desperation, begging him to stay with you. you're looking at him like you need him to breath, whether you know it or not.

dan heng is familiar with that look, as he expresses the same one when he sees you. not that he knows, though.

the rise and fall of your chest quickens, "i know this is selfish of me, but i really cannot imagine life without you sometimes," your mind takes over. you originally meant to say that you couldn't imagine life on the express without him. but subconsciously, you knew you meant this.

you hesitate to say the next part of your parting, as you're afraid it might become true, "however, if you do want to leave, i won't stop you. i'll let you go, no hard feelings like you know who," you joke. you're trying to ignore the feelings that will occur when you do lose him. it's not working, your heart feels like it's gonna shatter.

"whatever happens next, just know i'll always wish you the best," you clasp your hands together. you didn't even realize how sweaty they've gotten after the entire conversation.

as you reach down to wipe the sweat off your hands, dan heng takes the opportunity to grab you by your wrist and pull you into a tight embrace. he holds you so gently; his hold on you is soft and vulnerable. but it is also unyielding, as if he is guarding you from the heavens and above. he's holding onto you for dear life, making sure nothing would ever get to him.

at first, you thought this was a sign he was leaving. he was giving you one last hug before he left. dan heng was never really affectionate, so this must be why he is giving you such a sensual embrace.

you were internally panicking until you felt dan heng bury his head in your hair. he inhaled you, wanting to absorb your very being. his dragon form towered over you; he was much taller and bigger now than before. his hand delicately brushed through your hair as his grip on your body was still tight.

this is it, you thought, after this i will never see him again.

you give in to his embrace, grabbing onto his broad shoulders and squeezing him so hard that you couldn't bear to let go. if this be the last time you two see each other, you were going to make the most out of it. you were going to feel him one last time.

you two rocked back and forth for a few seconds before he let you go. you tried your best to avoid his gaze; if you took one last look at his face you may as well burst into tears.

but dan heng has a different idea. his hands cup your face, guiding it towards him. your full attention is on him now, you couldn't look away.

"if you cannot live without me, i suppose i cannot live without you either," he murmured and looked to the night. it was so quiet that you almost didn't hear it. he stroked your cheek.

"do you want me to stay with you?" not us, you. dan heng needed to know if you wanted the risks; he wouldn't dare to subject you to himself if you didn't want to get hurt.

"yes," you whispered, "stay."

"i will stay with you for as long as you want me to," he let go of your cheek and grabbed your hand, "i will stay with you until you're sick of me and you wish me to be gone. but tell me, do you really want me to stay?"

and you finally understand dan heng's repetition of the same question. he's scared of the risks: he's scared of the consequences. he doesn't want harm to come your way, as he fears you would succumb to death just as others had before.

"dan heng, i want you to stay no matter what," you hold onto his hand tighter, "i want it all. i want the risks, i want the danger, i can take it! but most of all i just want you here," you breathlessly rant, "whatever danger comes to us, i promise you we'll get through it together. no more isolation, because if you stay with me, i'll be by your side for anything."

"please," you tug onto his hand, "i want you to stay."

dan heng drinks your words up as if he was a knight dying of thirst. he soaks up every word like it would be the last thing he would ever hear. all that matters now is that you want him to stay. and dan heng will stay. he'll stay for the nameless, the express, but mostly for you.

dan heng realizes now that there wouldn't have been any risks. because now he knows that you'd get through it together. you'd fight for him no matter what. and now, dan heng is prepared to fight for you, no matter the situation. he would be there for you the same way you were there for him. he'd make sure of it.

dan heng pulls you into another embrace. this time, it's less desperate. it's loving, sincere, and relaxing; this would not be the last hug.

"then i'll stay," dan heng finally breaths, "for you. i'll stay for you," he smiled into the embrace. and unbeknownst to you, dan heng also feels you smile against his chest, safe and sound.

um that last paragraph was lowk ass but its 1 in the morning and im tired and i have to go to the gym at like 9

[ariseur]

I love your doc reader x Dante drabble! Can I ask for a reader Dante x seamstress? He wants to fix the coat and the bum! accidentally in love ^^

bursting at the seams 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

ughhhgghfh!!! this request was soossosso cuteeehhxjdxidjsj

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

some cuss words, intended lowercase, mentions of blood and dirt but only bc dantes doin his job as a devil hunter lol, lmk if i missed anything!!

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

988 words, 5278 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“shit, dante, what did you do to this thing?”

“yeah, yeah—i know my ass is fat, thank you very much.” he paused as your eyes roamed around the tear, especially with your hand attempting to get a feel of how bad the cut was. how could he focus when your hand was so close to his ass?

“do you think you can fix it?” he finally said, tone a bit quieter than usual.

“‘course i can, who do you take me for?” you say, sauntering back over to your desk to grab some materials, eager for a new job on fixing dante’s coat.

you gripped the tattered leather of his clothing, not even wincing as the grime and blood transferred from his coat to your hands. this was a common occurrence with dante as he often came to you in times where he needed some spare clothes due to the fact that demons kept tearing his up. as you kneeled back down to assess the rips, you couldn’t help but think of how much these demons had it out for dante to be messing with his clothes this bad.

at your quip, dante merely shrugs and waits for you to be done with your work as his eyes trail across your office. it’s filled with posters of your biggest idols and numerous mannequins in the corners of the room. intricate designs scrawled onto pages littered the countertops as he eyed some especially brightly colored spools of thread. he could barely think as he got a whiff of your perfume when you had walked by him, and it definitely didn’t help as you had him take off his coat and start measuring his waist.

“you better be paying me for this, it’s a major rip.” you muttered as you walked away, dante’s eyes tracking you while you placed the coat on your desk and gazed down at it.

“‘course i will, what do ya take me for?” he mocked your earlier words, leaning against the small sink underneath some cabinets, making sure he didn’t prick himself with one of the thin needles scattered near it.

you threw him a playful glare before holding up the measuring tape and walking back up to him. your eyes stayed trained on him as you just said, “hips?”

dante cocked his head before taking a small sigh and stopped leaning on the counter, now standing up straight. he tried to act calm and unbothered, even going so far as to practically check his nails and yawn. in reality, having you at such a close proximity caused him to stiffen, your scent abundant in his nostrils as it made him dizzy while you wrapped the tape around his hips. it fit snuggly around him, the bright color a deep contrast compared to his dark shirt. maybe he really did have a fat ass, you thought.

“so, how’s the weather?” he joked, eager to get his mind off the fact that you were touching him. touching him, your hands wrapped around his waist ensuring that the tape was secure and accurate. your hands, touching him.

but oh, when you giggled at his joke. his stupid joke. it was like butterflies erupted inside of him, a sudden swell of pride rushing in his chest as he let out a small chuckle alongside you too.

your eyes flickered back up at him, soft smile still evident as you scoffed amusedly, “you’re funny, dante.”

and that was the real cherry on top. him? funny? you thought he was funny? dante obviously knew he was funny, but hearing you admit it never failed to redden the tips of his ears. he beamed at you, watching as you spun around and wrote his measurements down.

you tucked your hair behind your ear, eyes finding their way back to dante who stood there with that stupid smirk on his face, as per usual. your soft grin never faltered as you tilted your head at him. “anything else i can do for you?” was all you said, tone honeyed as the words fell from your lips.

“nah, ‘m good but let me know if you need anything, okay?“ he paused, smiling at you once more as he gathered his things and headed for the door. “it’s the least i could do as a thanks for your fine work.”

your attention focused back on the coat in your hands, already beginning your patchwork as your tongue poked out between your lips in concentration. “it’ll take a little while ‘til your coats done, i hope that’s okay.”

“as long as it gets fixed, i’m okay with waiting.” dante’s tone became uncharacteristic, almost holding a sweeter tone rather than his usual cocky demeanor.

“i’ll see you later, dante.” you paused your work, looking back up at the man standing in the doorway as he gave you a two-finger salute and closed the door behind him.

his steps echoed in the hallway, shoes tapping against the tile as he made his way outside into the bright sunlight. as he saw the light shine through the windows, he couldn’t help but think back to you. you were standing right in front of the window, the golden rays shone on you like no other as it illuminated your figure, almost making you out to be a divine figure.

dante subconsciously licked his lips as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to get you out of his head before his hand felt something in his pocket. his eyebrows furrowed as he fished what seemed to be a small piece of paper out, unfolding the crinkled mess. he squinted as his eyes read over a slew of numbers scrawled on the ripped corner, smirk reappearing on his face when he read the tiny, “call me!” underneath the numbers, a small ‘xoxo’ written under it in red pen.

maybe he’d give you a call, he thought, just once more.

[zynxwrite]

Hi!! I have a lil prompt. Lo'ak x reader where reader is human(doesnt know much na'vi), but has just entered their na'vi body and got lost in the woods so they have no idea wtf is going on. Tuk finds them and leads them to their home bc tuk is pure and wants to help, and Jake's like wtf girl and then they chill and help reader with any injuries they gained along the way (lo'ak has a lil crush on reader). Thank you!!

pairings ❰ lo'ak x f!reader

You have escaped a mission due to you not liking destruction. Now, in your avatar body lost in pandora happen to stumble across a family.

warnings: none, (short writing)

You paused and dropped to the ground next to a tree trunk that was large enough for you to fit inside. You calmed after taking a deep breath.

It was frigid, and the breeze sent goosebumps down your spine. With nowhere to go, you continued to run. You despised it after witnessing how the sky people destroyed life. As your thoughts remained unfocused as you could only think about running, your steps became faster. You had to leave them alone.

You were startled as a disturbance from the bushes entered your hearing. You noticed a toddler's silhouette as you turned your head from left to right. In line with the height of a typical member of your species.

   “w-whos there?” you questioned, as you waited for a response, you gently slid backwards out of fear that it may attack you. 

  “wait don’t be scared!” You attempted to hide yourself with your arms as the stranger suddenly ran in your direction. You could see from the way she was looking at you that she was not intending any harm.

You awkwardly took a step away from the child, and now other Na'vi are in front of you. They appeared to be a family, therefore you cautiously moved backward by an inch in order to avoid any trouble.

   “Tuk! you brought a sky people inside our homeland! You know what they have done.” a person spoke in a motherly attitude, clearly furious. Although you were aware of what she was saying, hearing her words only made you frown more.

Although the mother disapproved of you, the child who had brought you within did not as she saw life in you. You notice a boy who continued to look at you when the others looked away, unlike the others. He appeared interested. He immediately turned aside once he realized he was staring at you.

   “Neytiri, I know you may not like this but after I saw this person, I saw myself. Being lost. But her, I took her things earlier and saw how she abandoned her missions” You couldn't understand what the man was saying to the mother since it seemed to be in na'vi, a language you don't know very well but in which you definitely heard the term lost.

  “ma jake..” The mother, also named Neytiri, hissed at herself before turning to face you. The child grinned as she noticed her mother's mood alter as she sighed and nodded.

  “Uh kid hey, hey. c’mere, don’t worry I’m not gonna hurt ‘ya” You nervously nodded as Jake spoke to you and approached him, but kept a respectful distance.

Jake looked at you from top to bottom, noting any injuries you had probably acquired from all the running, and said, "now I want to thank you for abandoning your mission, and uh sorry if I looked through your bag."

Jake called to his son, "Lo'ak come here and treat this girl with her wounds," as he was the only one who kept looking at you. Lo'ak, who had just been startled, asked his father, "Why me? Why not him?" as he turned to face his brother Neteyam. 

It has been a week after you decided to live in omatikaya, the other avatars helped you retrieve your body back to you, so It could be easier for you to stay away from the sky people.

  "Now, don't do that, [name]! Why do you have to move your hands in this way? "Kiri chuckled at you for making incorrect hand gestures; Lo'ak was sitting beside you, instructing you on the various Na'vi greetings. 

The young man held your hands and assisted you in getting into the proper posture, saying, "You skxawng, it's supposed to be upwards, not forward." Kiri observed how he had been staring at you ever since you arrived when Lo'ak was helping you.

“pfft, lo’ak are you rizzing [name]?”

© 2023.zynxwrite .ᐟ please do not copy any of my writings.

[thelovelylolly]

Joel Miller/Tommy Miller x Reader where she finds an old Sphynx (hairless ugly thing lol, but so affectionate) cat and carries him in her hoodie to keep him warm. Joel wonders why she's being shifty/what she's hiding. And isn't impressed when she finally shows him.

-

This is super random but I would miss my adopted Sphynx sooo much if I was thrown into the last of us universe 🙈😭 he's too domesticated to live as a stray lol he wears clothes (even legwarmers 🤣) and sleeps in my bed or inside my hoodie all day 🤣

Hope you're well x

Can We Keep Him?

Summary: You find a Sphynx cat while traveling with Joel, who doesn't want it. Warnings: post-outbreak, not proofread bc my own cats kept me up last night and im tired, let me know if i missed anything! Notes: i. love. cats. thats it thats the note

You and Joel stumbled upon an abandoned gas station and strip mall while making your way to your next trading spot. You two decided to split up and raid the abandoned buildings so you wouldn't waste too much time. You went into the gas station while Joel looked through the other buildings. It was already pretty picked over, but every once in a while, you would find something useful or just interesting.

You were walking through the dirty isles when you heard a crunch from the back. You immediately turned around, but saw nothing. You grabbed your flashlight and pistol, readying them as you two slow steps towards the sound. Another crunch and a rustle come from the back. You got closer and closer, pausing for a moment before turning the corner to prepare yourself. You didn't want to deal with infected.

You quickly turned the corner and aimed your flashlight at the noise. Two blue eyes stared back at you as you lowered your gun and flashlight. A Sphynx cat was just munching on some random food that was left, and probably expired.

"Aw, hey little guy," you cooed, putting your pistol in your waistband and crouching down in front of the cat. You carefully stuck your hand out to him, letting him sniff at your hand before rubbing his head against your hand. You gave him some scratches on his wrinkly little head as he walked closer to you.

"Will you let me take you?" You asked him when he put his front paws on his knees. He meowed at you and you picked him up, standing up with him in your arms.

You carefully opened your hoodie up and he instantly hopped in, happy for the warmth. You giggled and he stuck his head out, licking your chin.

"You gotta hide, buddy. I don't know if Joel will like you," you said, gently pushed his head back down. You made sure he was comfortable, then left the gas station to regroup with Joel.

----

Joel knew something was off with you. As you two continued on your way, your arms stayed wrapped around your torso and you didn't take your hoodie off, no matter how hot you were getting. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't. So, he stopped walking and turned to face you.

"What's going on?" He asked.

Your eyes widened and you quickly looked away from Joel. "Nothing, why?"

"You're acting weird."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Joel, I'm not, okay?"

He stepped closer, his hands going to his hips. "You really wanna do this?"

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You opened your hoodie up and carefully took the Sphynx cat you found out, cradling him in your arms. Joel was, at first, shocked you were able to hide the little guy so easily, then disappointed. Of course you picked up a stray cat, a hairless, wrinkly one at that.

"Where did you find that?" Joel asked.

"The gas station," you replied. "He was just too cute to leave and he immediately started to love on me, so..."

"Okay, first, he is not that cute. Kinda ugly, to be honest. Second, why on earth did you pick up a stray cat? You don't know what kinda diseases he has."

"I don't care, and he is cute! Can we keep him? Please?"

"No," Joel answered sharply.

"C'mon, Joel. Can you really say no to this face?" You replied, holding the cat out to Joel.

"Yes, I can. He's not a cute cat."

"He is! Plus, where are we gonna leave him that's safe?" You added. "Please, Joel? Just until we find a better place for him?"

Joel took a deep breath and grumbled something as he ran a hand across his face.

"Fine. We can keep him, but when we find a good place to leave him, that's it," he said before turning and continuing on your path.

"Yes!" You cheered quietly as you quickly followed Joel. "Now, what should we call him?"

"Dear lord," Joel grumbled, already regretting letting you keep the cat.

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 10

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; none. idiots in love

notes ; ITS YEARNING HOURS BAYBEE ‼️ for the first time ever, a bit of childe’s POV, wowie zowie!! also a bit of a cheesy chapter LMFAO, it’s just these two dinguses “reaching” the realization that they want each other so bad, it makes them look stupid.

also a smidgen hint at the end towards the next phase of this dumpster fire of a fic >:3

ok and finally- i know i already made a post abt it but like. would u guys still love me if i posted a luke castellan fic? it’s SO self indulgent bc i’m brain rotting from the percy jackson show so idk yet :>

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old wooden planks creak with each step childe takes.

he’d long lost the count of the days he’d spent in this peculiar inazuman domain— the mystic omnyou chamber, his companions called it. though what a fascinating domain it was, ever-changing and ever-puzzling but most of all, ever-deploying more enemies for him to fight his way through. he feels like only now he truly knows what teucer must’ve felt like in front of all those mr. cyclopses all those months ago.

he felt as though he was given a little too much breathing room by the motherland, still being stationed in liyue with you whoever knows how long his mission was finished, so it was no less than perfect to hear the news of scaramouche’s disappearance from inazuma after taking the gnosis for himself. as much as he disliked to have to leave you in northland bank with the promise of the two of returning together still at hand, he dully needed to take up on his responsibilities as one of her majesty’s harbingers.

still, he could fair by through the remembrance of you and his love for combat.

it’s amusing how freshly burned into his mind the memory of your time together at dottore’s lab was, even when he was half-conscious and at his physically weakest. how you soothed away his wounds with the cool breeze of your cryo powers, how you kept him company while he recovered, how you called him a pret-

“psst— you’re doing that thing again.”

“h-huh..?”

the harbinger is snapped from his daydreaming by paimon naggingly whispering to him. as childe finds himself back in reality, he registers the sight of the traveler, xinyan and shiki taishou walking ahead distractedly through the narrow dusty hallways of the domain, while paimon had fallen back alongside him.

“are you back now? ok good.” the travel guide snides, hands sassily placed at her hips.

childe chuckles sheepishly. “i-i’m sorry, paimon, but i’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.”

“oh, come on, it’s so obvious! the entire time we’ve been here, you’ve been doing this thing where you either doze off thinking about y/n! y’know as someone so passionate about fighting, you really need to get your head in the game right now.”

he feigns an offended scoff. “that is entirely untrue, comrade. my focus is solely on figuring out this domain’s mysteries and defeating its monsters.”

there’s a brief pause, where childe thoroughly reevaluates what paimon just said.

“wait, how did you know i was thinking about y/n? i-if i were dozing off and possibly thinking about them!”

she scoffs. “puh-lease, you’ve been babbling about them since we got here! almost everything you’ve said has somehow trailed off into y/n, so much so that even shiki taishou is caught up on what’s happened with you two!”

paimon was someone known to be a bit eccentric and overreactive at certain moments, but she also had her moments of being very bluntly honest in other situations. this was one of them. the harbinger deliberates for a moment, out of all the time he’s spent venturing this domain with the paper doll, just how much information had he unwillingly retained about you.

suddenly, a moment of clarity washes over childe and he vividly recalls all the moments during his venture in the domain where he’s talked about you. saying things such as ‘i wonder how y/n is doing right now…’, or ‘hah, y/n’s cryo attacks would demolish these enemies.’ or even ‘oh! that reminds of this one time, when y/n and i were kids…’. lest we mention the multiple times he’s said ‘i can’t wait to return to inazuma with y/n and show them this.’ whenever he’d been exploring the electro land’s scenic locations.

poor shiki taishou.

but then again, is it truly his fault that the mystic omnyou chamber had so many moments and details that were so clearly reminiscent of you? o-or maybe… maybe this was just a domain and everything reminded him of you regardless. but that’s the more unlikely possibility.

he curses scaramouche in his mind for a brief moment. it was all because he decided to go rogue that childe had to leave so abruptly— just when he’d made amends with you, just when the two of you were restoring your friendship. just when you’d started to flash him that devastating smile of yours again, instead of the standoffish snarl you’d presented during his mission in liyue. gods, he could feel his heart pang against his chest. surely it was just the adrenaline of battle, though. even if the group hadn’t faced enemies in more than ten minutes by now.

an even further tucked part of childe’s mind curses paimon next, for pointing out how much he speaks of you, because now he truly cannot stop. he looks ahead towards the end of the corridor and he can’t see what’s next, can’t see the next tatami matted arena where he’ll face a new wave of enemies, something he thinks he wants— no, all he sees is you.

it’s like your face is burned into his retinas, your fond laughter burned into brain and the warm feeling of when he slept against your shoulder burned into his skin.

childe doesn’t doesn’t fight as well as before in the next battle, he’s sloppy and distracted. after the arena is cleared, he’s left with a scratch across his bicep— which, thankfully, the domain grants a healing sigil to mend.

but it’ll never cure him like you do, never soothe the very core of his being like your powers do and it’ll never look at him the same way you did, caring and attentive.

he remembers how he felt lookup up at you then— like you were the stars in the night sky. he needed to get this mission over with as soon as possible.

—

you could almost hear your mother’s nagging tone telling you to not play with your food. as delicious as liyuean cuisine was, you’d lost your appetite halfway through your meal- as well as interest in the tale the restaurant’s storyteller was telling.

it’d been probably the dullest week you’ve had in a while, no new assignments from the motherland, no events happening in the city and… admittedly, no childe.

you can’t find the effort to lie to yourself and say it’s fine that he’s gone, that it’s for the tsaritsa’s noble cause— you don’t care about it. scaramouche could screw off with the gnosis and live his life, as far as you were concerned. in fact, you’d say he deserves it, given all he’s gone through with the doctor, even if he could be an astronomical asshole at times— well most of the times.

and now you can’t decide who to blame for childe’s absence, the balladeer or the tsaritsa. either way, it’s affected you more than you’d ever admit out loud. it’s been such a monotone week not just because of the distinct lack of anything to do in liyue lately, but also because of a distinct lack of… someone to worry about. yeah, that’s what it was, just an unusual sense of calm and nothing to stress over, that’s all—

“even in all my years, i’ve rarely seen someone stare at an unfinished bowl of dragon beard noodles with such intensity.”

a rumbling, baritone voice quips jokingly from across your small table and you’re startled away from your thoughts. looking up, the comment is revealed to come from mr. zhongli, the consultant from wanshe— oh, who were you kidding, the now former geo archon.

you hadn’t formerly spoken to him since the mission to take, well, his gnosis. after the situation with osial was diffusd, you beared witness to an unsettlingly diplomatic exchange between mr. zhongli and the fair lady, where he gave away the very culmination of his divinity like it was spare change. of course, you’ve spotted him countless times around the harbor— merely enjoy the little things the city had to offer. you can’t truly fault him for making the decision that he did, six thousand years is, unspokenly, too much time to not peruse the fruits of his labor from up close.

“a-ah, mr. zhongli! it’s been so long since we last spoke.” you scramble to politely greet zhongli and briefly wonder if you should stand up to bow to him, which he seems to notice.

“my apologies for startling you, doctor— may i?” he gestures to the seat in front of you and you nod.

“yes, it has been some time. i recall you being there for the completion of my contract with the fair lady, but the last time the two of us had the opportunity to meet casually was the very same night we first met.”

you nod curtly— you’re tense, you don’t know why. you know he’s not an archon anymore, you were there to see it, but perhaps the real weight of being in the presence of someone so powerful, not just an archon but the oldest of the original seven, seems to have only settled in now. you feel almost as choked as when in the presence of the tsaritsa, which you know all the same that you shouldn’t be. zhongli chuckles amusedly.

“i ask you to treat me as though you would’ve that night in liuli pavilion, like any other acquaintance. chatting with a mere consultant of a funeral parlor requires no formalities. now— have you been well, doctor?”

you can still only bring yourself to nod wordlessly in response, there’s no need for zhongli to know how royally miserable you’ve been lately.

“and.. may i ask why you held such a glare towards your meal? is it not your liking?”

“oh, no the noodles are just fine, amazing even! i was just… contemplating wether to finish it or not.”

great cover.

“hm,” zhongli hums with playful suspicion. “while a reasonable topic of contemplation, it did very much seem as though you were rather staring through the bowl, as though there is something on your mind. i would not mind hearing what is it that vexes you, doctor— if you’re comfortable to share, of course.”

yeah there was no fooling a, again, six thousand year old divine being with a half-assed excuse like yours. you sigh.

“well— yes, you caught me. the last few days have been, uh… less than peachy for me.”

“what exactly is it troubles you these days?”

“i wouldn’t say it’s trouble but, there hasn’t been much to do at northland bank lately. and childe has been out on a mission for some time now— b-but it’s mainly the lack of assignments!” you stammer.

“is that so? i did hear of childe’s sudden departure for inazuma but it is curious that you’re being kept stationed here with essentially nothing to do. but, if i may— has childe been absent for as long as you’ve felt dull at work or would you say there is no relation?”

already at so few words out of sheer nervousness, zhongli managed still to render you completely and utterly speechless. what are you even supposed to respond to this?

“i-i uhm, i… alright, i won’t even try.” you sigh in defeat and zhongli looks coyly pleased. he patiently awaits for you to gather your thoughts and actually say more than two stammered sentences.

“i truly can’t tell what it is. i feel like i’m supposed to be worrying for him— as if he’ll get injured again or injure someone else o-or even worse, do something stupid but there’s just.. nothing! it’s like i’m so used to being aware of his presence and now there’s nothing and it’s- it’s frustrating.”

“you miss him.”

you pause. do you miss him? no, it can’t be so simple— you have a medical degree, it is most certainly improbable that you’ve been trying your brain over just missing childe. well, sure it was great that the two of you were starting to make amends and stopped being so on-edge around each other but… there’s no objective reason for you to miss him.

right?

“i would not say i even near the level of an expert on matters concerning relationships between people, but i’ve seen a lot in my time. enough to tell you with confidence that it’s most likely you just.. miss him, doctor. and that it is okay to feel this way. the two of you do not stand at odds anymore, you never have— it is reasonable for you to be affected by his absence.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “how do you know if… childe and i stand at odds, mr. zhongli.”

“well, i have witnessed it. both directly and indirectly— the tension and misunderstanding between the two of you during our meeting at liuli pavilion was quite evident and i’ve heard of how you opposed him in battle at the golden house. but that is all it has ever been, misunderstandings and disagreements, but you’ve never truly disliked each other.”

“h-how do you know-“

“he speaks quite highly of you, doctor.”

“wh-what?”

“childe has only ever spoken highly of you— i recall mentioning that had been looking forward to meeting you in person during our dinner, it is all because of how grand his description of you was. plus, during our eventual meetups, you’re mentioned at least once every time. and you, as we’ve discussed, do seem to hold some care towards him, to the extent that you first concern is his health.”

your heart aches and you hate it. it’s a terrible, void sensation that frustrates you to no end. why? why did childe have to make it so difficult for you? why can’t you ever feel simple feelings when it came to him? why couldn’t you ever just feel one way towards him with no smaller part of your brain saying something else? even worse, why couldn’t your brain ever think about anything else— literally anything, instead of just constantly orbiting around the mixed emotions you felt when it came to childe?

you just constantly, restlessly and unendingly seem to care about him.

“you know what, mr. zhongli, i think y—“

“ah, there you are, sergeant!”

a less familiar voice calls out from behind you and you turn around with a bit of surprise— it’s a man clad in fatui uniform, who you recognize as mikhail, one of the officers stationed at northland bank. he’s not exactly someone you interact much with, just a mere coworker you greet every other morning, so you’re perplexed as to why he’s seeking you outside the bank.

“mikhail, what is the occasion?” you ask, briefly eyeing zhongli to find that he remains with a neutral expression awaiting the exchange.

“i am deeply sorry for interrupting your lunch, sergeant, but ekaterina urged for me to find you as soon as i could. a letter has come in from lord dottore for you specifically— she says it is of utmost importance.”

—

the wharf is unusually crowded today.

an untimely flux of either tourists or returning immigrant citizens, perhaps it is an important time of year in another nation— although, childe could truly care less at the moment. he’s doing his best to politely push his way through the sea of people leaving their respective ships while almost unconsciously seeking you out within it. he knows you wouldn’t be here, as his return to liyue was unannounced, but his eyes fly to latch onto your likeness anyway.

childe ends up finding you right in the center of the harbor’s main street, practically right below the catwalks that lead to the bank. you’re slowly pacing back and forth, a piece of paper clutched in your hands and a vacant expression on your face— childe can’t find himself to clutch to those details right now, he just needs to get to your side. he makes large, determined steps towards you, big grin invading his features, and while he’s still approaching you, you spot him and your eyes widen even more. once childe is a mere two steps away from you, he stops.

“y/n! oh, it’s so good to see you!” he heaves out gladly.

“ajax—“ you reply in a quiet voice and his heart swells at the use of his real name. he truly can’t contain himself anymore and tackles you into a tight hug, one so strong that stumble back a bit.

his arms snake tightly from under your arms to above your shoulders and his head lowers from being against your own to reaching your shoulder blade— it is as close as he physically get to you, while trying to be respectful of your space, of course. you’re still in shock for maybe five seconds of the hug, but eventually you just let yourself slowly wrap around him and squeeze ever so slightly. both of you have your eyes closed to sink into the moment.

the hug is long, maybe twenty seconds so, and as childe becomes satisfied with its duration and pulls away, he remains with his hands to your elbows in a gentle hold. he sighs with said satisfaction and beams towards you.

“i have so much to tell you about inazuma! unfortunately, i couldn’t find scaramouche there but i managed to see so many beautiful places, so many amazing experie- wait.. what’s wrong?”

the harbinger pauses mid sentence when he notices the numbness in your expression and his bright grin falls into a concerned frown— you feel like the most terrible person for making him lose such excitement. your mouth opens and closes as you find what to say, but you eventually whisper it out.

“ajax, i-i… i have to go to sumeru.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana