#best gifts for weight loss

[cowyolks]

FAINT JINGLING BRASS

Pairing: Krampus! König x Female Reader

Prompt: There was something about you, something that urged the beast to enter your cottage. It was intrigued, sniffing the anguish of your very soul- and it wanted you.

Warnings: Predator/Prey Dynamics, stalking behaviors, spanking, oral (receiving), fingering, mutual masturbation, monster sex, p in v sex, breeding kink, creampie.

Words: 5.2 K

A/N: Yes, it has in fact, came to this. I have been a silent lover of the monster fucker committee, and this is my offering. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

You hated Christmas.

It wasn’t always that way. When you were little, you’d help your father pick out a tree from the massive evergreen grove that bordered your childhood cottage on the outskirts of the Alps. You’d help your mother dry oranges and string popcorn to place on the pine-scented branches.

You’d laugh at the nostalgic sound of jingle bells and hum carols that your late grandmother had taught you. The scent of gingerbread and pine incense would seep through every room.

Christmas was a time of Joy, to celebrate the end of the year, and wait in anticipation for Saint Nicolas.

That all changed after the accident.

The coroner ruled it to be a mistake, some drunkard that was directing his sleigh too fast. You had survived the collision, insisting on riding in the back where you could see the glistening brass of the jingle bells attached to the back of the sleigh.

Now the sound nauseated you, filling you with a looming sense of dread and hate for all things Christmas.

The cottage that was once full of laughter and joy, was now empty and cold. Sweets that were once baked were replaced with bare necessities you would eat only to survive. Incense that once burned was replaced with small logs burning in the fireplace, keeping your body as warm as it could, despite the clothes that now swallowed you from your rapid weight loss.

You'd watch in envy from down the mountain swells, pinpointing the children skating on powdery ice, parents buying traded gifts and kissing under mistletoe.

Your hands, shaking in cold, shut the thin drapes with a bitter sigh. You would have to go down to the stores tomorrow, begging for at least a loaf of bread, or possibly a portion of cheese or dried meat. You would have to go in the early hours of the morning, before the obnoxious drunks put on their furry masks and horns for the second day Krampusnacht. They would run and terrorize the children on the cobbled streets, even the women who walked alone were not safe. It was a sick tradition you would try your best to avoid.

But for now, you wouldn't think of going to the village. You would do as you always did. Carry on.

Gathering the thick material of your shawl, you threw it on over your shoulders. Not even your sorrow could stop you from chores. With your worn boots placed over your cold feet, you stepped outdoors. Immediately you braced yourself against the cold, feeling the wind bite at your cheeks. The bitter snap of cold was harsh enough to make your teeth chatter and nipples stiffen.

Regardless, you pushed through the heavy snow down the shoveled path to the stables. Your Lipizzan mare, named Sterne, was huddled in the corner of her stall. Snowy fur highlighted her in the growing twilight. She huffed as you approached, white smoke leaving her nostrils, making her look like some sort of angry dragon. Perhaps she was, you were late in giving her dinner.

With a sigh, you grabbed the fork, pitching some old hay into her stall with a grunt. You were running low on feed too, you'd have to scrounge up some oats for her, and corn for the chickens.

A soft whinny echoed in the tight space, Sterne's frosted head bonking against your shoulder in a quiet thank you. Your mittened hands reached upwards, patting her withers gently.

"You up for a run to town tomorrow, girl?" You spoke to her, the only conversation you had started today, your voice raw from being unused. She whinnied again, understanding the word "ride" and pawing the dirt in anticipation. The mare was definitely more excited than you were.

With a final pat, you left her stall, throwing a half empty sack of corn over your shoulder on the way out. You spotted your beaten path in the growing darkness, making your way to the chickens that roosted in a small coop.

You hurriedly shuffled in the snow, your paranoid mind always screaming at you when it came to be dark. You never liked being out in the open, always feeling like you were being watched, despite the mountain tops sheltering your home.

You opened the coop door, pushing yourself into the tight space just to get rid of some of the paranoia. Your hens cooed at your presence, leaving their nesting boxes after hearing the shuffling of corn. You worked half-blind, pouring the corn into the wooden trough, and making sure they still had fresh water you melted this morning.

With a sigh, you braced yourself to leave the coop, glancing out the small window towards the forest before you committed. Nothing was seen in the tree line making your muscles unwind, relaxing slightly. You huffed, shaking your head at your ridiculous behavior, that was until you caught onto the strange prints in the snow.

They looked to be like the mountain goats that grazed upon the mountaintops, but they never came this close to people. And the prints were large, abnormally large. You glanced onward, observing the strange gait the prints had, like the goat or sheep was limping, or taking large steps.

The gears in your mind shifted, thinking of a logical reason why these prints made the hair on your neck stand.

Then, it hit you.

It was Krampusnacht, someone was obviously pulling a trick on you, walking with hoof imprints on boots, likely mimicking Krampus as well. You fumed, not being one to play into games, let alone ones dealing with your least favorite holiday.

You slammed the coop door shut behind you, marching through the snow and back to the cottage that was beginning to grow cold. Your hand hit the icy door twisting the large latch and opening the cottage to the chill. Before you could slam the door in your anger and fear, you halted, turning to face the dim landscape.

"I know you're there! Might as well come in, there is nothing of value here!" You shouted angrily, knowing how the village spoke of your family. How they whispered that you were some witch that murdered her parents and lived in a hut up the mountainside, far away so you could practice your spells and potions.

They would have nothing to take.

You slammed the door shut behind you, missing the hissing laughter and jingle of brass as the wind howled over the noise. Red eyes watched through the bedroom window, your oblivious form changing into a sheer shift and wool stockings for bedtime.

The beast tilted his head to the side, taking the time to inhale largely, breathing the scent of this human girl that was so intoxicatingly unique. He had never smelt anything quite like it, involuntarily his long, forked tongue swiped across his lips as you left the room.

Your eyes would dart across the room occasionally, making sure the curtains were still drawn from the main foyer where you would sleep next to the fireplace. You got to work on the candles, red wax burning down the sticks slow and lazily. You lit a couple around the house, basking in the warm glow despite the chill.

Your stomach growled, eating itself from the inside out. You had fed your animals, and now your body screamed, my turn. You decided on the last bit of homemade buckwheat bread. It was dry and stale, but it satisfied your hunger at least until the morning time.

There was little left to do but rest, but it seemed your body wouldn't be able to sleep with the possible threat outdoors. It could be nothing, but you couldn't let it go. You were too weak to fight off a grown man, unless perhaps you had your father's old crossbow, but that would take more strength to load than you had.

For now, all you could do was wait.

You smoothed out the thin cotton of your slip, sighing when you realized you would have to hem it, or you'd risk showing your breasts from the loss of weight. You tugged it upwards, smoothing it over your skin with a critical look.

You startled as the wind howled and whistled through the chimney, flickering the flames you worked so hard to produce. You leant forward, blowing gently upon them until the ashes brightened and it burned steady again.

You settled down upon the wooden floor, the planks covered in a thick arrangement of all the quilts and knitted blankets you owned. It was far too cold to sleep in your bedroom at the opposite end of the house, so your makeshift nest would have to do.

You hardly remembered closing your eyes, just that there was nothing better to do besides get some rest for your busy day tomorrow.

You dreamt of falling snow, the landscape only lit with the dull glow of the crescent moon above. You were in a clearing, pine trees growing over you as if they were extending to shake your hand. Then, as you began to swivel and study the landscape, a shrill sound of a bell made you turn in the direction, your own eyes settling on dark growing red ones, rectangular pupils dilating as it watched.

You woke up with a gasp, panicking at the loss of light throughout the room. The fireplace was glowing ash, signaling that you had been asleep for a few hours, although it only felt like minutes.

Your body was shivering, drawing you to the conclusion that you definitely woke up to the cold, not whatever nightmare your mind had conjured. With a yawn, you reached, placing more dead cedar onto the ashes, watching it hungrily catch.

“You need to relax.” You chided to yourself, rubbing your arms together as your eyes adjusted to the moonlight that flooded through the cracks in the curtains. It was a dangerous time to be by yourself, lights dimmed with nothing but your thoughts.

You thought of how around this time you would be in the village with your parents, pointing out the prettiest decorated trees, or indulging in a sweet treat like a slab of dark chocolate, or possibly an orange or apple.

You sighed, watching as the smoke curled away from your lips and swirled around the house. Eyes found the steady lick of flames, the wood popping and spilling ash so loud you missed the small creak of the floorboards behind you. The creature watched, intrigued at the visible curvature of your spine and the heady scent of dreadful nostalgia you wafted.

He wanted to make himself known, to feed off of your emotions and kill this foreign urge that had his body buzzing.

You froze when you heard the faint sound of a brass bell, throat bobbing as all your limbs seized up. A hissing purr releasing from directly behind you, startling you so much you hardly registered you were on your feet and turning to the sound.

Eyes rounded, a shriek threatening to escape your throat if it wasn't for the fact that you were frozen in fear. This thing, it was too real. All it did was stare, as if it was letting you take in his presence.

This thing was too tall to be a mere man or schoolboy from the village. The creature had to be at least eight feet tall, hunched over to avoid hitting the wooden rafters of the cottage. It wore a large coat made of old fur, likely wolf or bear, it covered the span of it's wide back and huge arms. The hood was pulled, but it couldn't possibly hide the large horns protruding from its head. Bells hung from the horns, ringing with every ragged breath it took. It was human, but not. A nose and mouth just like yours, until a forked tongue swept out like a serpent tasting the air. Human arms and muscular abdomen, but fur-covered powerful legs and hooves for feet.

Red eyes glowed back at you, just like the ones from your dreams. Realization sunk in—this creature had been watching you, polluting your dreams and feasting off your fear.

This was Krampus, and he was here to punish you.

Again, there was hissing laughter that rattled the rafters, causing you to flinch. His maw grinned, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"I smell your fear, little one." It purred, as if amused by your rapidly beating heart. "Do you know who I am?" It asked in its hollow voice, although it looked as if his mouth hardly moved.

"Krampus." You squeaked, hair standing up on the ends of your neck as you took a step backward towards the fireplace, spine hitting the cold stones with a gentle thud. You would have to run, find a way to Sterne in the stables, because there was no way you would make it to the village on foot and match his massive stride and hooves.

Krampus seemed to catch onto your planning, because the creature took a single step forward, hoof knocking hard on the ground as it blinked in approval of your introduction.

"Very good, human. Though we prefer König." Hmm, King, the beast had dubbed his name after a ruler, despite his other half, Saint Nick, being far more beloved.

"Why are you here?" You whimpered, hoping to stall as your hand reached backwards to discretely find the stiff iron of the poker. If you could not run, you would fight.

"As if you don't know, girl? They call you witch under their breath, speak on how much you hate Christmas and people. How you haven't even visited your parent's graves. That's cold." It cackled at the joke, just as familiar anger flooded your veins at the mention of your family.

"Shut up!" You seethed, hand fisting the handle of the poker. "You don't know anything about me." Spoken like a cornered dog, ready to lash out at the hand who fed it.

"Don't I?" The creature drew closer, close enough you could see the claws on his paw like hands, the pointed ears that resembled an elf or nymph, and the birch whip he fastened over his cloak. König stepped within range, yet before you could stab the iron into flesh, a clawed hand grabbed your wrist, faster than you could have possibly moved.

The beast loomed over you, your chin only reaching the hard rigidness of his lower abdomen, where fur met human skin.

"I can smell the ambition, raw pain, starvation. You want revenge, don't you girl?"

It was true, you were far too ambitious for your own good. Plotting and planning ways you could murder the damn drunkard for killing the only people that mattered to you. Now, your heart was crushed in pieces, no family, no love, no acceptance.

Perhaps you were more like this beast then you thought.

While ambition ran through your veins, so did stubbornness. You wouldn't agree with him, at least verbally. Instead, your stare locked with his rectangular pupils, chin held high, and jaw clenched.

A slow smile spread across his lips, a growling laughter much like a whistle escaped him, just as he dropped your wrist. It fell to your side, aching slightly from his grip. "You're like nothing I've ever seen, Little One. You intrigue us." He slithered out.

"What do you want?" You spat, gaze falling on the birch switch slung over his shoulders, and the expansive length of his claws. He could kill you, but it was obvious you piqued his interest, despite you not really understanding why.

"To help you." König cackled, taking another step forward, now close enough that you could smell the scent of pine and earthen musk, not the rot they had told you Krampus stunk of in stories.

"Why?"

a clawed finger moved upwards, moving to the soft lines of your jaw. You turned slightly, cheek hitting the cold cobble of the fireplace to escape his touch. The sharp talon extended, brushing against your skin way too softly for a beast such as he. Predatory eyes dropped to your sheer nightdress, the material splaying softly over what little curves you had left. You exhaled nervously, suddenly drawing conclusions of what this thing wanted.

"No... No." You swatted his hand, an unknown feeling warming your gut at the look this monster had given you with flashing eyes.

A snap cracked throughout the cottage, candles lighting on their own as it luminated the wooden table near the fireplace. Your head rotated in that direction, peeking around the beast to see a table full of all foods imaginable. Roasted duck, chicken, potatoes, blood oranges, nuts, jams and jellies. Along the masses of food, glistened jewelry of golds and silvers, bloody rubies and glowing emerald. It was enough to buy the entire village.

You took a step forward, moving beyond the creature to get a better look, nearly hitting your head on his massive horns. It had to be some massive illusion, this whole thing a dream. Krampus, your parents, these treasures— all fake.

As your fingers ran through the cool texture of gold coins, and you felt the beast breathe down your neck— you knew it had to be real.

"I can give you all of this and more. I'll serve you your parent's killer on a silver platter, clothe you in silks and gold... give you more pleasure than any mortal man." He poisoned you, stopping your heart as a long tongue swept across the bounding pulse of your neck, leaving a warm and wet trace that had your legs going weak.

"All you have to do is give yourself to me, say yes." It nearly whimpered, making you believe you were not the only one tempted by such an offer, the creature was eager as well.

"And what if I say no?"

a firm warmth pressed against your back, the rippling muscles of his torso providing warmth that the cabin did not. "We will leave and never come back. But I believe that is not what you want, yes?"

Hesitation. Reflection. Decision.

"Take me."

A loud growl echoed the cabin at those two words. The creature picked up upon the nervousness you wafted like smoke, "Mach dir keine sorgen, Liebling. We will take good care of you."

All you could let out was a muffled squeak.

Clawed paws pressed against your collarbones, pushing your neck back and against the creature's abdomen. The beast was hunched, almost like it was encircling you like prey to get a better look at where to sink his teeth into.

It should have been wrong how good it felt to have his lips pressed to your neck, his mouth so dangerously close to you with those abnormally sharp teeth. He’d likely killed with them, but now he bit softly, pulling purplish bruises to the surface that he’d soothingly lick with his long and forked tongue. Claws smoothed over the sheer shift you wore, pulling a moan from your throat when he scraped the sharp point against your nipple.

A fistful of your breast, kneading, "You like that, girl?"

You gasped, feeling the growing heat radiate through your body as strong hands tore at the clothes, freeing your skin to the chilling air. The torn shift dropped to the ground with a dull thud, leaving you completely exposed to the beast that was nearly rattling in primal satisfaction.

A sharp crack echoed the room, a raw yet delicious sting radiated over the swell of your rear, making you gasp and catch your breath. Konig had backed away, his other hand now grasping the birch switch in his grip.

"Answer when I speak, Liebling... yes?" The creature cackled, eyes glowing a dark crimson as the bells upon his horns continued to jingle mockingly. You nodded, head tilted to the side so you could see what he was doing. Then another cracked echoed, the switch burning upon your other cheek, likely leaving delightful red marks.

"With words, little one."

"Yes, yes, I understand." You moaned, sighing in relief when the beast rubbed the irritated skin in some sort of apology. A large inhale escaped him, low purring once again rumbling his chest.

"We smell you, how sweet you are. Would you let us taste?" It was not a question, but a demand. As soon as you gave the approval to his deal, this beast would not stop until it had its way with you. You found yourself buzzing in excitement instead of grief.

"Yes."

Paws maneuvered you, letting your naked body fall back onto the nest of blankets and fur you had made in front of the burning fireplace. It was in the burning glow that you could truly see the beast, the intelligence beneath his eyes, the human nose that was curved and looked to be once broken, the darkness of stubble that covered a sharp jaw, the spiral pattern of horns, the pale glow of his skin where muscle bulged, the scars and burns that littered its torso. Then, the lower half, the dark coarse fur and shiny hooves that allowed it speed and warmth.

What had really caught your eye was the growing erection between fur and skin. It was massive, and slowly sliding out of a sheath like pocket of his body. His cock was human-like, despite the size- a large shaft twisting with veins and ending with a round tip, flushed and needy. Heavy and hairy balls hung low, making you completely second guess this whole situation you wound yourself in.

The beast noticed your stare, paw going under your chin to lock eyes with you. "Do not be so scared, little one, I'll make it fit, we just have to get you ready. Be a good girl and lay back..."

You did as you were told, focusing instead on the soft material on your bare back, and the warm heat of the fireplace wafting over your body.

Paws petted down your sides, sliding over your hips and making you shiver as he gripped below your thighs, spreading them apart so you were bared to him.

A foreign curse escaped the beast as it settled hungrily between your body, studying the sheer arousal you embarrassedly leaked. A finger prodded your slit, allowing you to hear the lewd sounds of your juices. You moaned as he spread it up and down, playfully flicking upon the puffy bead of your clit.

"Smell so divine..." It hissed, eyes locking with yours for a moment until he ducked lower, just the long expansion of his horns to be seen. Hot breath filtered across your aching cunt, making it clench around nothing. Then a sudden flick of a wet muscle startled you, making you jump and mewl.

"Taste good too, little one." The beast purred, caging your fidgeting hips against strong arms so you could no longer move against him. Eyes fluttered shut when you felt him once again lick a painfully slow stripe up your slit, collecting so much of your arousal you should have been embarrassed.

The beast was humming, seemingly enjoying the taste just as much as you were enjoying the pressure of his teasing tongue slipping over your clit.

"Please... inside." You managed to beg as the forked tongue parted lengthily from his mouth, entering the smooth and molten heat of your cunt. The muscle curled, burrowing further against your walls as you cried out in pain and pleasure.

He was stretching you, no doubt getting you prepped for what was to come. He pulled backwards, leaving your hole cold and needing. You whined, feeling completely empty until he filled you again, this time quicker and rougher.

"Fuck..." You moaned, eyes closing and head falling backwards against the wooly blanket. Claws pressed into the inside of your thighs, pulling you further apart and nearly penetrating your skin enough to draw blood.

König pulled away, licking upon your clit teasingly, "Such naughty words coming out of a girl so pretty. Shall we punish you, again?"

You whined, attempting to push your hips against his mouth, lips now covered in your slick. Sharp teeth smirked at the reaction and excitement flashed across his eyes at your blissed expression.

"Words, Liebling..." The beast warned, shifting higher to run his tongue across your breasts, leaving hot trails that cooled against the room's frigid temperature.

"Please, need you." Your chest heaved, nipples hard and bared to him as he continued to suckle and lick upon the flesh.

"So needy for my cock, but you are not ready, we would split you in two. Touch yourself." The beast ordered. You didn't dare refuse, slipping your fingers down towards your aching core. You were in shock by just how much molten slick coated your fingertips. You shyly began to circle your bud, sighing in relief as the creature fell back on his haunches to watch.

It was busy licking his lips, savoring the taste of your juices as his own paw settled upon his cock, giving it a slow pump. He watched as you moaned softly, legs becoming jelly from so much overstimulation without yet cumming.

"Inside, girl. Stretch yourself."

Your face flushed in embarrassment, but you sunk your index and middle finger inside you, moaning at the contact and noise the juices had made. The beast seemed to like it as well, because his hand fisting his cock began to increase speed.

You curled your fingers, groaning at the feeling, but realizing it did not feel as heavenly as his tongue. Your gaze landed on his paws, how his fingers were long and thick, wrapping around the whole base of his cock, it made you huff in want.

König was watching, looking at your every move. "You want my fingers, little one?"

"Yes."

A chuckling hiss left him again, just as he loomed above you once more. Your fingers left your cunt, leaving you open and throbbing for the beast to continue. A clawed finger scraped your moisture, coating it with arousal before it slipped heavenly inside you, the sharp point curling inwards.

It hurt, but oh how it felt euphoric.

The beast growled at the noises you made, cock twitching achingly against your thigh. He added another finger, picking up his pace as he continued to feed upon your moans, curiosity crawling across his face as you gripped the sheets.

"Going to- mmph," You stuttered, clenching down on his fingers, feeling the squelching of your cunt as you clamped around him, white hot pleasure leaving your body in waves as you shook and cried against him.

"So schön..." The beast kept muttering over and over again, reluctant to leave your heat but excited for what was to come.

You yelped as the creature grabbed you, your body still buzzing in pleasure. The beast huffed, smelling the scent of your orgasm and the need that still flowed from your veins. You were crushed against his torso, secured against him until he laid back and sprawled. His cock lay twitching between your legs, your slick coating the shaft as he maneuvered you above him.

It was a submissive position for him, allowing you to be on top of such a creature. You had a million questions- why wouldn't he take you like the half-animal he was, or at least allow himself the pleasure to sink into you instead of you maneuvering the pace?

A hand kneaded the flesh of your ass, lifting your body up as his other settled upon the mass length of his cock.

Then it all clicked.

The creature wanted you to begin, to stretch yourself out as he watched. He wanted to see your expression as you lost yourself and locked him inside you. It made you that much more eager to please him.

König slid his cock against your slick, growling in anticipation as the head lined with your small hole.

"Go slow, little one. Do not hurt yourself."

You bent your knees, lowering slowly onto his head. He hissed at such a tight squeeze, claws imprinting into your hips once again as he held you up.

"So tight," it hissed, tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth like a dog.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, foreign to the feeling of being so impossibly full. Your walls burned at the stretch, but you pushed forward more, until it grew so painful you had to halt your movements.

"Too much." You weakly spoke, halting on his length that throbbed in need. You couldn't have been more than halfway down his shaft.

"Shh..." The creature cooed, running soft paws down your sides again, a soothing pattern. It began to purr, the vibrations somewhat of a lullaby as he rattled. You relaxed slightly, feeling the warmth of him. Your body changed, cunt opening up slightly with preparation to take the rest of him.

You sighed, sinking further until your ass hit the furry coat of his thighs, the soft texture comforting you further. You cooed at the stretch, noticing that the beast was uncharacteristically quiet with its eyes closed.

You found yourself missing the attention.

Hips jutting forward, sawing into his abdomen as you ground down upon his cock. Red eyes flew open, a growl leaving his throat as a slap landed across your sore rear again.

"Squeezing me so good, human. I will breed you." The creature decided, claws pulling upon your ass and lifting you halfway up and slamming you back down against his swollen balls.

You moaned, never feeling more full in your life. He lifted you higher, seemingly no longer caring that you controlled. It must have been against his nature, and it was obvious as he lifted you completely off of him.

You were flipped, as if you weighed nothing more than a simple sack of flour. A hand pushed upon your back, making your spine arch as you settled upon your hands and knees, ass up and bared to your purring monster.

"Such a pretty one, bared to me and needy." It hissed, plunging his glistening cock into your wet heat with no warning. Furry thighs slammed against your ass, pulling you back into him with such power you lost your breath.

You struggled to clutch onto something, settling on your quilts as you mewled out in white-hot pleasure. It continued its blinding pace, slamming in and pulling out nearly all the way before hitting the tip of your womb again.

Pressure began to build up in your stomach, body crying again for another release. You arched further against him, meeting his thrusts in a sloppy sounding slap.

"That's it, Liebling. Cum for me now, and I'll fill you up."

Nothing sounded better.

With one last snap of his hips, you were releasing, crying out into the dark cabin. You clenched around him, gushing and clamping to him so much you felt the stutter of his movement as his arms pulled you closer, pushing his throbbing cock so far into you, you could feel the bulge against your stomach.

White hot liquid pooled into your cervix, coating you and staining your body for the rest of your life. You would never be fucked the same way again, and the beast knew it as well.

König maneuvered you again, settling you upon the soft blankets as you both panted from pleasure and exhaustion. Purrs rumbled from his chest as your body curled into his own, still connected.

"You are mine to take care of now, little one."

Exhausted eyes closed, settling in a peaceful slumber aided by the soft jingle of brass bells.

Maybe, Christmas would not be so bad after all.

Tags: @mykneeshurt @glitterypirateduck

[xo-cod]

forgive the inaccuracies, idk much about babies <3 ooc/rushed :)

simon w his baby but she has a preference for one parent and it's not him

simon finally coming back to his safe place, his sanctuary, his home, all but eager to spend some needed time with his family. be had been off to a mission, the last one for a while to make sure that everything was okay. he had already been incredibly reluctant to leave you but now that you both had a baby, it was hard. not a second was spent on the field where images of the pair of you blazed through his mind, almost nearly costing his arm and leg in the process of being too distracted. it had been hell to say the least

but the day finally came, there he was finally on his way back after an intense gruelling month. simon saw you first, bundling you up close in his built arms enjoying your little chuckles that fell from your lips. removing his balaclava as he peppers tender kisses across your cheeks before your lips, his soft smile growing at how happy he was to be back. before he set you back down, eyes scouring about for his bundle of pure joy

"where is she, lovie?? i missed her so much, i got her a little trinket from the place we were deployed in, hope she likes it" he chuckled softly, opening one of his pockets to reveal the gift as he catches his baby on the carpet playing with toys babbling away. his heart was practically bursting at its seams, shedding away his utility vest and his gear to make sure nothing could hurt her before he gently padded his way over. he had different ways the evening would pan out but he hadn't expected this.

he didn't ever expect to be met with a blank stare in return

his heart dropped when he picked his little girl up, she was too busy playing with her favourite toys to even react to him. he hadn't anticipated her looking at him like a stranger. he could've cried with the way she wriggled out of his grasp and wanting to be let down as if he was some enemy. as if instead of being the protector he was now the very thing he swore to keep away from his child, a stranger.

his face like a kicked puppy when he looked at you with pure shock and pain, looking back at the baby who was eagerly crawling back to you having wanting nothing to do with him despite him trying to come closer. you could see all the happiness he previously had practically disappeared from his body, his shoulders deflating with sadness and pain

she couldn't recognise him, she was no longer a daddy's girl

"honey.... sweetheart, it's me, dad. daddy's here. c'mon, c'mere munchkin" he tried to chuckle, kneeling down opening his muscular arms only for her to blink at him and then look back at her toys again

"lovie.... what's going on?" his voice is so soft with hurt and shock looking back to you with huge shining eyes as if he had encountered the worst loss till date. suddenly the mission he had just been on was nothing, the weight of his child preferring you over him was crushing his heart into pieces he didn't think he would come back from. how he'd do any mission 10x over if it meant his child, his treasure would love him again

•••

and it remained that way for the next week, he tried his utmost best but it never seemed to be good enough for her. you tried to console him but he remained dejected, she was always wanting to run back to you. to be comforted by you and to be held by you. every time he tried to tuck her in, his efforts simply proved fruitless. she would cry and cry until you came back in and he watched from the side never feeling like he had failed so hard before in his life.

it hurt more than any of the superficial wounds he ever managed to get in battle, it hurt more than him being on his literal deathbed all those times he was caught in the cross fire. and it only propelled him further into despair when he made the mistake of googling it and realising that this phase may very well last years.

you could see him break with everyday, doubting himself as a father and as a husband. blaming himself and letting the doubt plague his heart and mind. it seemed nothing could comfort him apart from his baby that wanted nothing to do with him. he hadn't managed to hug her at all, he missed being able to snuggle her soft skin for hours. lounging around the home with her cuddled up in one arm as the other gently rubbed on the back of her head soothingly holding her close to his heart. and the thought of never being able to cuddle her without the cries that accompanied it was more than he could bear, it hurt more than anything he had gone through

that was until one night, he was tiredly going to the bathroom and pausing over the nursery. he hadn't meant to but he peeked in and saw her laying in her crib half asleep. her eyes big and brown exactly like his, blinking up slowly at the lieutenant. she was quiet apart from the small sounds she made sucking on the pacifier, a soft bunny in her hand as she peeked back at her father.

"hey baby...." he whispered so softly, he didn't even think she had heard. but her head tilted in curiosity and he chuckled, his hands coming to rest on the walls of the crib. desperately aching to feel her soft skin but too nervous to agitate her

"it's me honey, your dad. i really.... really miss you" he broke off, his heart feeling so heavy as the guilt came barreling in once more. it was his fault that he left her for a month, he shouldn't have been so surprised when he came back and preferred you. you had been there when he couldn't, she developed an attachment with you, not with him

"i'm so sorry to have left you for a month, honey. if i had known- if i thought for a second you'd hate me-" he didn't have the heart to finish the words, the guilt overriding his senses. with a soft sigh, his forehead leaned against his palm for a moment. his own baby didn't like him, he hadn't felt this low in a long time.

he promised he would never raise her in a volatile environment like he had grown up but already he hadn't been any better. he left her knowing for a month, coming back to see her favouring you. and it wasn't easy on both of you, he knew that. he knew he was being irrational but it stung more than any cut, the fact that if he hadn't made the choice to go on the mission that his baby wouldn't be acting so strangely around him.

simon didn't expect anything more tonight, too scared to touch her in case she started crying so he settled for placing the blanket back over her and heading off to bed with a heavy heart. what he didn't expect was the small coo coming from her lips, her tiny fist wrapping up over his index finger. his heart was in his throat, eyes wide at the sight as he looked back to her sweet innocent face again

"me?? you want me?" his voice was so gentle, too scared to speak loud as if this was all a beautiful dream he would wake up from. hesitantly he had reached down, his breath held as his large hands wrapped around his baby so delicately as if she'd shatter beneath his fingertips. slowly sitting down on the rocking chair, the moonlight pouting through the window illuminating her features.

how everyone around claimed she was a carbon copy, how proud he was to call her his daughter. all the moments that they shared running through his mind like a montage and she tilted her small head up at him, a gentle giggle falling from her lips before she rested her weary head against his warm chest. he could've cried and he did, gently but firmly holding her body between his hands. thanking whatever goodness he had done in his life that she was back, his baby was back. and she loved him just like before. she recognised him, she wanted him willingly. it was enough to break him out of whatever funk he had been in, trying desperately not to sob happy tears after a long gruelling two weeks.

you woke up the next morning to see simon laying on the rocking chair, one hand protectively over her small back while the other locked around her little legs as they both slept peacefully. his cheek leaning against her forehead as they cuddled up close on the rocking chair, both making the exact same sleeping face causing you to hide your growing smile and snap a little picture of the tender moment.

she truly was his little mini.

[vigilante-3073]

Blue Or Pink?

James Wilson x Female Reader

Summary: House makes some observations about Doctor Y/N L/N. He is absolutely certain that she is pregnant with Wilson's child, but something seems amiss.

TW: Pregnancy, mentions of weight gain/breast size/nausea and vomiting/miscarriage, medical diagnosis.

House stood outside the Pediatric unit, watching Doctor L/N-Wilson through the window as she spoke with the parents of a patient. She had been married to Wilson for almost two years and things had been stable.

Normal.

Predictable.

But House began to notice small changes in Doctor L/N-Wilson. At first they seemed insignificant, but then the little nothings turned into big somethings.

First it was the tiredness, she'd whine about being exhausted before resting her head on Wilson's shoulder in the cafeteria. It was nothing special, just an overworked Pediatrician who gave everything to her patients.

Secondly, House noticed a change in how she responded to smells. She refused to kiss Wilson after he drank his morning coffee, the smell making her stomach churn. It could have been an anomaly, but then he changed his cologne. Wilson liked his cologne and had used the same one for as long as House had known him. A new cologne could have been gifted to him, but Wilson wouldn't have used a different scent without some other motivation. It seemed obvious to House that L/N's smell-associated nausea had caused the switch.

Thirdly, it was how emotional she had become. L/N had always been an emotional lightweight with a heart of gold, but House could see a difference in her. She didn't seek out comfort from Wilson on a routine basis, only when she had lost someone or experienced an emotionally taxing case. Then he noticed her coming and going from his best friend's office with red, watery eyes at least once a week. Her heightened emotional state could be due to the loss of some boring little rugrat who drew her a picture of a butterfly once, but it seemed more intense than that.

Fourth thing he noticed was the vomiting, she was very discreet about sneaking away to upchuk in the hospital bathroom, but not discreet enough to escape his watchful eye. She was constantly chewing mint gum or sucking on breath mints while carrying a toothbrush in the pocket of her lab coat.

Fifth thing was an increase in cup size and a sudden progressive weight gain. It wasn't anything excessive, but it was enough to have her clothing fit more snugly before she gave up and bought new clothes.

Sixth was the appointment. Wilson and L/N snuck away to an "early lunch" after talking to Cuddy. They were both Department heads and didn't need to speak to the Dean of Medicine before stepping out for an hour.

The anomalies were piling up into a rather perfect list of symptoms.

Chase made his way over to House, frowning as he stared through the glass, "What are you looking at?" Chase asked.

"Doctor L/N-Wilson," House stated.

His eyes followed her as she separated from the parents, walking over to the nursing station.

"Why?" Chase asked uncertainly.

"She has a parasite," House said, Chase's head snapped in his boss' direction.

"What? How do you know?" Chase questioned, turning to look at her again.

"I just know. It would take too long to explain," House said, turning and walking off.

...

Wilson and L/N sat on the couch in their apartment, her back was leaned against his side and her legs were stretched out across the couch cushions. Wilson's arm was wrapped around her as he flipped through the channels on the television. L/N stared down at her book, turning the page before closing her eyes and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"You alright?" He asked, looking down at her.

"Tired," She sighed.

"Do you want to go to bed?" Wilson questioned.

"No, I'll be okay. I like spending time with you," L/N said, eyes fluttering open.

Wilson smiled, pressing a kiss to her head as she returned to her book. He turned his head towards the television before someone knocked at the door.

L/N sat up, setting her book down on the cushion beside her.

"I'll get it," Wilson said, setting the remote down and making his way over to the door.

He opened the door, sighing when he saw House standing on his doorstep.

"Your wife has a parasite," House stated.

"Thank you so much for letting us know. We'll have her admitted for treatment in the morning," Wilson said sarcastically, "Goodnight, House," Wilson stated, moving to close the door.

House stuck his foot in the doorway, blocking the door from closing before pushing his way into their apartment.

"House, what are you doing here?" L/N asked.

"You have a parasite, Doctor L/N-Wilson," He said.

"No, I don't. Go home, House," She said, standing up from the couch and moving to step past him.

"It has arms and legs. It looks adorable in a onesie. Chromosomes of XX or XY with eyes like mommy and glorious hair like daddy. Lucky bugger will even get two Christmases when you two separate," House said.

"We're not separating," Wilson snapped.

"That's besides the point," House said, returning his attention to L/N, "Oh, and I stumbled across this," House said, holding up a document displaying a positive pregnancy blood test result.

"How did you-" She started, snatching the paper from his hand, "Did you break into my office? And my desk?" L/N questioned incredulously.

"I should be saying mazel tov. Congratulations on the little rugrat," House said.

L/N smacked him in the arm, "You're an ass," She snapped, folding up the paper.

"I thought you'd be screaming it from the rooftops," House said.

"Forgive me for being cautious," She huffed, sitting back down on the couch.

"You're almost four months along. Way past the danger zone for early miscarriage," House stated, eyes flickering over her.

House looked up at Wilson, he shook his head, silently pleading with his friend not to continue.

"You've lost a pregnancy before," House said.

"House-" "Three," L/N replied, looking up at him.

"House, get out," Wilson said.

"He was going to find out at some point, James. I'm surprised he didn't steal my medical records already," L/N said.

"Another hospital, too much work," House shrugged.

"Can you grab a copy of the sonogram?" She asked, Wilson nodded, making his way down the hallway before returning with a photograph.

He held it out to House, he took the photo and stared down at it, "The fetus has your nose," House said, "Mind if I keep this?" He asked.

"Sure," L/N nodded, leaning back against the couch.

"Why do you- You know what? Nevermind," Wilson sighed, sitting down beside L/N and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I'll see myself out. Congratulations on the kid," House said, making his way over to the door and out of their apartment.

...

House sat at his desk, staring down at the sonogram as his team discussed their most recent case. House tilted his head, thumb brushing over a darkened area on the scan.

"House?" Cameron questioned loudly.

He looked up to find Chase, Cameron and Foreman staring at him expectantly. House turned the sonogram photo and held it up for the team to see, "New case. Tell me what's wrong with this picture," He said.

Cameron huffed, "We need to solve our first case before moving on to something else. We should do a transesophageal echo to rule out a blood clot and to-" "Sure, but first, tell me what's wrong with this picture," House repeated.

Chase squinted, leaning in closer to view the sonogram, "Looks fine to me. Roughly four months along, I'd say," Chase shrugged, straightening back up.

"Wrong, thanks for playing. You two," House said, looking up at Foreman and Cameron.

Cameron shook her head before letting out a defeated sigh, she leaned in and scanned the sonogram silently.

"The fetus is undersized for gestational age. Can we go now?" Foreman asked.

"Nope. Try again," House said.

"There's a mass," Cameron said softly, taking the sonogram from House's hand.

"Yeah, it's called a baby," Chase muttered.

"No, there's a membrane around it," She said, stepping over to the x-ray view box and holding it up to the light.

House stood from his chair, staring at the sonogram over her shoulder. He took the photograph from her hand, "Do the echo," House said, grabbing his cane and heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Cameron asked.

"To locate a pregnant woman," House stated.

...

L/N made her way across the lobby towards the clinic, "Y/N," Wilson called. She turned to face him, "Did House page you?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah, did he page you too?" L/N questioned.

"This can't be anything good," Wilson muttered, hand resting on the small of her back as they entered the clinic.

They made their way over to the exam room House had paged them to.

L/N knocked before opening the door, she and her husband stepped into the exam room, "What do you need, House?" L/N asked.

"You. Hop up on the table," House instructed, pulling over the portable ultrasound machine.

"House, she already has an obstetrician," Wilson said.

"Well, your obstetrician is an idiot," House said, turning on the ultrasound machine.

"I'm going back to work," L/N sighed, stepping over to the door.

"I saw something in your sonogram," House stated.

L/N hesitated, "What was it?" She asked.

"I have an idea, but I need to get a look at the thing," House said, gesturing to the exam table.

L/N looked over at Wilson before reluctantly getting up on the table and laying back. Wilson moved over to her side as she pulled up her blouse.

House squeezed some gel onto her belly before moving the wand across her skin. The soft thump of their baby's heartbeat filled the room as House stared up at the screen.

"Your baby has a roommate... Sneaky little sucker that leaves its dishes in the sink and trashes the place so they lose the security deposit," House said, typing on the keyboard.

"What is it?" Wilson asked, holding onto her hand tightly.

House turned the screen towards them, "A cyst," He said.

"It's solid," Wilson said softly, stomach dropping as he saw the possibly cancerous mass growing in his wife's belly. The oncologist within him already formulating treatment plans and survival rates.

"Sometimes. This week it's solid, two weeks ago it was liquid," House said, holding up the previous sonogram.

"I have cancer?" L/N mumbled shakily, eyes glossing over with tears as she looked up at Wilson.

"Nope, think hairy with a nasty bite," House said.

"A dermoid cyst?" L/N questioned.

"Bingo," House said, "Your baby is small for gestational age, but your fundal height is bang on. Someone else is taking up space," House said.

"Your miscarriages hid the symptoms and the cyst is likely to create more problems as it continues to grow. I scheduled you for a laproscopic removal tomorrow evening and notified your idiotic OB," House continued, putting down the ultrasound wand.

He held up a tissue, allowing L/N to wipe the gel from her stomach. She pulled down her blouse and sat up on the exam table.

"I still want to test your blood for cancer markers, but the chances of a dermoid cyst being cancerous are slim to none," House said, standing from his stool and gathering supplies.

"Your hubby can do all the testing," House said.

He tied the tourniquet around her arm and drew a few vials of blood to test. Wilson stood close to her side, his hand resting against her back reassuringly as they processed the information.

"Did the cyst cause my miscarriages?" She asked softly.

House shrugged, "Probably... The ugly thing is taking up all the beachfront property and keeping it from possible long-term residents. Bad for business, especially if business involves pregnancy," House said.

L/N huffed a laugh, leaning into Wilson's chest as a tear rolled down her cheek. Wilson pressed a kiss to the top of her head, wrapping his arm around her waist securely.

"The baby is going to be okay," Wilson assured, L/N nodded.

"I'll leave you two to do whatever married people do," House said, grabbing the vials of blood and his cane.

"House, wait," L/N said, pulling away from Wilson. She hopped off the table and stepped over to House.

He stiffened as she hugged him before slowly wrapping his arms around her, "Thank you," She said softly.

"You're welcome," House replied.

[thef1diary]

hiii could u write a danny or carlos fic based on mess it up by gracie abrams? maybe smtg angsty w happy ending ??

Self Sabotage | D. Ricciardo

Summary: you leave Daniel because things are going too well, but you realize it's the worst decision you've ever made.

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.

masterlist taglist form

Warnings: angst, insecurity (on reader's end), negative thoughts, allusion to childhood trauma, mention of failed past relationships, lil bit of fluff/comfort.

wc: 2.2k

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things had been well between you and Daniel, in fact it was going too well that it worried you.

You believed that there would be a day where Daniel would show his true colours; prove that every promise, every gesture of love he made was nothing but a lie.

That day never came. He loved you endlessly, showering you in gifts and affirmations which only deepened your fear.

Opened two double doors

Despite Daniel's unwavering love and sincerity, you couldn't shake the feeling that you didn't deserve such happiness. Deep-seated insecurities gnawed at you, whispering that it was only a matter of time before you ruined everything.

Unable to bear the weight of your own self-doubt, you made the painful decision to push Daniel away before he could discover the flaws you believed defined you.

Typical, pretty sure I could grow up

With a heavy heart, you packed your belongings in silence, the weight of your decision pressing down on you with each item you carefully placed in boxes. As you moved through the rooms of your shared home, memories flooded your mind, each corner holding echoes of laughter, whispered promises, and tender moments shared with Daniel. The emptiness of the space around you mirrored the ache in your chest as you realized what you were about to leave behind.

With Daniel away, you found solace in the solitude of your departure, sparing both of you the agony of a tearful goodbye. Each item packed was a step closer to severing the ties that bound you together, a painful but necessary act of self-preservation.

Probably chemical

As you closed the door behind you for the last time, the weight of your decision settled over you like a shroud, leaving behind a home that once held the promise of a future you were no longer sure you deserved.

Driving away from the home you once shared with Daniel, tears blurred your vision as you navigated the familiar streets, each turn carrying you further from the life you had built together. The radio played softly in the background, a bittersweet soundtrack to your departure, as memories of happier times intertwined with the ache of loss.

I took up walking to turn it all off

Despite the pain, a small voice inside whispered that you were doing the right thing, that by leaving, you were sparing Daniel the burden of loving someone who couldn't love themselves. Yet, even as you tried to convince yourself that this was for the best, doubt crept in, casting shadows of regret over your decision.

You grip the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles turning white as you navigate the familiar streets. Glancing at the passenger seat, you see a photo of you and your boyfriend, smiling blissfully. It feels like a mockery now, a reminder of what you shattered.

Doesn't feel bearable

With a huff, you turned it over so you don't see his handsome smile staring back at you that always led you right into his arms, his laugh that was contagious enough to make you laugh as well.

You couldn't stop thinking about him or all the reasons you fell in love with him. He was perfect and unfortunately you didn't believe that you were enough for him.

Guess I thought when I left it would all stop

Opening the window, you let the breeze gather your thoughts and whisk them all away, both negative and positive. All you knew was that you had to leave him because it was good for him. He could find someone better than you, much better.

Your phone buzzes, his name flashing on the screen. You hesitate before answering, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Hey," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hmm, it would all stop

"Hey, babe! What are you up to?" His voice is filled with warmth, but you can't shake the guilt building inside you.

"Nothing, just hanging about, you know how it is without you," you reply, forcing a smile you know he can't see.

"You sound a bit off. Is everything okay?" Concern colors his words.

When I told you "I'm fine", you were lied to

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just tired from the day, I guess," you lie, the weight of your deceit heavy on your chest.

"Okay, well, I miss you. I can't wait to get back to you," he says, his longing evident in his voice.

"I miss you too," you reply, feeling the sting of your betrayal with every word. You did truly miss him and you know that you would miss him even more as time would go on.

How could I think that all that I gave you was enough?

As you hang up the phone, you're consumed by guilt. You know what you're doing is wrong, but you can't stop now.

You continue driving, the weight of your decision bearing down on you with each passing mile. The road stretches endlessly ahead, mirroring the uncertainty gnawing at your conscience.

'Cause every time I get too close, I just go mess it up

Daniel's words echo in your mind, his longing for you palpable even through the phone. You can't shake the image of his face, filled with love and trust, oblivious to the lie you've just told him.

Even with the music and open windows, the car still becomes suffocating. You steal another glance at the photo frame you flipped over on the passenger seat, your heart twisting with guilt.

Funny that didn't work

A sudden urge to turn back grips you, but you push it aside. It's too late now, you tell yourself. You've made your choice.

Half an hour passes, the landscape blurring into a haze of regret and doubt. Your mind races with what-ifs and maybes, each one a dagger to your already wounded conscience and heart.

Suddenly, your phone rings again, jolting you out of your thoughts. Daniel's name flashes on the screen, but this time you don't pick up his call.

I could be anywhere, I'm on your block

"I'm sorry, Daniel," you whisper, turning off your phone so you don't see another call or text from him.

A wave of sadness washes over you, mingled with a tinge of guilt. Despite knowing deep down that leaving Daniel was the right decision for both of you, it doesn't make the pain any easier to bear.

Cynical, terrible

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling hands as you focus on the road ahead. Each mile feels like an eternity, the weight of your decision heavy on your heart.

Memories of your time with Daniel flood your mind – the laughter, the shared dreams, the moments of pure joy that you thought would last forever. But somewhere along the way, the cracks began to form, the doubts and insecurities creeping in your mind until it threatened to consume you both.

Kicking myself with my gut in a knot

As you drive further and further away from him, you can't help but wonder if you've made a mistake. What if you're throwing away the best thing that ever happened to you? What if you'll never find someone who understands you the way Daniel did?

But then you remember the tears you shed, the sleepless nights spent without him, agonizing over whether to stay or go. You remember the feeling of suffocation, of being trapped in a relationship that was slowly suffocating you purely because you never felt such love before. Instead of accepting it, or at least telling him about it, you chose to endure it until it became unbearable.

'Cause I heard that you're happier

Perhaps you couldn't find someone better than Daniel, he was truly one of the best ones. But that thought didn't deter you away from your decision because you were the one always causing problems, always letting your own thoughts become the reason to end a relationship.

As you drive on into the night, you realize that leaving Daniel was the only way to save him from you. It wasn't easy, and it certainly wasn't painless, but you know in your heart that it was the right thing to do.

Hope that you're sleeping well knowing I'm not

In the weeks following the breakup, a sense of emptiness settled over you like a heavy fog, each day passing in a blur of regret and longing. As you reflected on what had led you to push Daniel away, you couldn't escape the realization that your own insecurities and past traumas had played a significant role in sabotaging the one good thing in your life.

Memories of past relationships haunted your thoughts, whispering tales of betrayal and heartbreak, leaving you unable to fully trust in the love Daniel offered so freely. Childhood wounds, buried deep beneath layers of self-preservation, resurfaced with a vengeance, casting doubt on your worthiness of happiness.

I'm doing too much, hmm

In the quiet moments of solitude, you found yourself grappling with the harsh reality of your actions, longing to turn back the hands of time and undo the damage you had wrought. With each passing day, the weight of regret grew heavier, until it became too much to bear.

He called many times when you finally turned your phone on, but you were too much of a coward to reply to any of his messages. You could tell he was hurt based on the voicemails he left, asking what he did wrong for you to leave abruptly. Daniel had wanted to surprise you by coming home a day early, and you ruined it by not being there.

Did I fall out of line when I called you?

Just like you ruined everything else in your life. You cried yourself to sleep that night, lulling yourself by playing his voicemails over and over again because despite his tone revealing he cried, he still loved you.

Summoning all the courage you could muster, you sought out Daniel, driven by an overwhelming need to make amends, to lay bare the truth of your fears and insecurities.

When I told you "I'm fine"

You stood on the step in front of the house you once called yours, and if everything went well, it would be yours again along with his.

Daniel opened the door, shock covering his features. He gazed at you from head to toe, checking if you were injured but once he was satisfied, his gaze hardened as it connected with yours.

"Daniel," you began, your voice trembling with emotion as you stood before him, "I need to talk to you."

You were lied to

Noticing the hesitation in your tone, his eyes softened, finally coming to a realization that you were truly standing in front of him after being left alone for weeks.

"What happened?" he asked, concern lacing his words. He itched to touch you, to hold you, but he needed to know your stance on your relationship.

How could I think that all that I gave you was enough?

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I made a mistake. I let my fears get the best of me, and I pushed you away."

Daniel's brow furrowed in confusion and worry. Ignoring the voice in his head to stay away, he pulled you closer, hugging you and sighing as he found relief by having you in his arms.

I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in

"Why did you push me away? We could've talked," he muttered as he felt your tears wetting the crook of his neck. "It's... it's complicated," you replied, your voice cracking with emotion.

He pulled back, "did I do something?"

You quickly shook your head, "no, you're perfect. I got scared. Scared of getting hurt again, of letting someone in only to be left broken and alone. But I see now that I let my past dictate my future, and I lost sight of what truly mattered, how much you mattered."

We can make it better, breaking every habit

Silence hung heavy between you, the weight of your confession filling the space between your hearts. Then, finally, Daniel spoke, his voice soft but filled with pain. "I don't understand why you didn't talk to me about this sooner," he said, his eyes searching yours for answers.

"I was afraid," you admitted, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Afraid that if I opened up to you, you would see the broken pieces of me and walk away. But now I realize that keeping you at arm's length was the biggest mistake of my life."

Pull myself together, you could watch it happen

Daniel reached out, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice firm with conviction. "I love you, flaws and all. But we need to work through this together, okay?"

With a trembling smile, you nodded, feeling the weight of his words lift the burden from your shoulders.

In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand, guided by the light of love and forgiveness.

Let it happen, let it happen

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @gxuh @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @xoxonoire

[ghoulsbounty]

From a Previous Life (Pt 3)

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Preg!Reader

Summary: You rush to the Ghoul's aid, but find that hospitality doesn't come cheap in the wasteland.

Warnings: Emotional hurt/comfort, pregnancy, talk of cannibalism, mention of child loss, canon-typical violence, blood, angst, grief, yearning, rejection.

Word Count: 8.8K

A/N: This is late! I'm sorry this wasn't finished last week, but it took me a while to get the ending to a place where I was happy with it. Part 4 coming up next! I'd love to know what you think 💌

Part 1 | Part 2

In the weeks that followed, a palpable tension thickened the air, suffusing every moment with a sense of unease. The Ghoul, ever cautious and seemingly intent on minimizing any unnecessary interaction, forwent sleep altogether. Instead, he adopted the role of a silent sentinel, perched upon whatever seating deemed acceptable as he watched over the entryways of your temporary shelters. There he would remain, a solitary figure in the dim moonlight filtering through shattered windows, his hat pulled low over his ghoulish features, shrouding them in shadow.

As you lay awake, restless and watchful, your gaze was repeatedly drawn to him, silently pleading for him to abandon his post and join you in the refuge of your shared space. Still, he remained steadfast, his bed beside you still empty and unused by your departure the following morning.

During the days, you travelled in silence under the relentless glare of the blistering sun, each step bringing you closer to your elusive destination. You would pause occasionally, your keen eyes scanning the barren landscape for any sign of abandoned treasures that could be sold for a fine price. Each discovery was accompanied by a hopeful glance towards your companion, a silent plea for approval. More often than not, his response was a grunt or a dismissive shrug, leaving you to carry the weight of your excitement and disappointment alone.

He had truly reverted back to the aloof and distant man he had been before that fleeting moment of connection shared around the crackling fire—the night he had gifted you the Pip-Boy. It had felt like a heavy reminder of the vast divide between you, a symbol of the distance that must remain for your child's safety.

The internal struggle waged within you relentlessly, tearing at the fabric of your resolve as you walked alongside him. On one hand, the instinct to protect your child, to prioritize their safety above all else, pulsed through your veins like a guiding light. But on the other hand, an undeniable longing stirred within you, a selfish desire to throw caution to the wind and reach out for him, to seek the comfort of the companionship you had felt briefly.

You remembered the warmth of his arms briefly wrapped around you, the intimacy of talking freely together like you had done that night by the fire. The memory tugged at your heartstrings, igniting a fierce longing that threatened to overwhelm your senses. And despite your best efforts to bridge the conversational gap, to break through the walls he had erected around himself, he remained stubbornly distant.

The silence between you grew more pronounced with each passing day, a distinct barrier that seemed to stretch endlessly between you. You couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation settle over you. Some divides were simply too vast to bridge, and perhaps, you thought with a heavy heart, yours and the Ghoul's were among them.

It wasn't until one particularly hot mid-afternoon as you battled against a relentless radscorpion that had sprung at you from beneath an overturned refrigerator in that evenings shelter, the Ghoul's patience reached its limit. With a single, precise shot from his magnum, he dispatched the giant arachnid before turning to you with a sour expression.

"Outside," his voice commanded, firm and unwavering.

You followed behind him obediently, watching in silence as he collected the empty Nuka-Cola bottles scattered on the porch and lined them up along the railing. Once satisfied with his work, he turned to you and nodded, signalling you to follow him. Together, you descended the steps and moved further away until you reached a spot that provided a clear shot at the makeshift targets.

You eyed him cautiously, uncertainty gnawing at the edges of your resolve as you waited for his next instruction. But when his gaze settled expectantly on the gun holstered at your hip, you knew what you were to do. With quick hands, you fumbled to unholster the weapon, your fingers closing around its familiar grip as you prepared to face the challenge that lay ahead.

Despite the sweltering heat and the sweat that trickled down your brow, you squared your shoulders and raised your weapon, determined to prove yourself to the Ghoul—to show him that you were capable of holding your own beside him. And as you took aim at the makeshift targets, a sense of determination surged through you. Today, you vowed, would be the day you proved yourself worthy of his respect.

Pulling back the hammer, you let out a shaky breath as you pinched the trigger. The shot rang out, reverberating through your body like a thunderclap as you felt the recoil jolt through your arms. Taking a step back to steady yourself, you lowered the gun and peered ahead at the targets, your heart sinking as you realized that all five bottles remained stubbornly intact, mocking you from their perch.

A sense of annoyance bubbled up inside you, mingling with the disappointment that weighed heavy in the pit of your stomach. You heard the Ghoul sigh from his spot to your right, where he leaned against a a utility pole with his arms crossed.

"Again," he said, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation. "And keep your eyes open this time."

His words jolted you out of your reverie, pulling you back to the present moment with a sharp clarity. Despite the simmering frustration within you, you nodded in acknowledgment, steeling yourself for another attempt with the gun raised.

"Feet further apart," he instructed, his tone firm and authoritative. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and adjusted your stance, grit crunching beneath your boot. You heard him tut, then suddenly felt him beside you. His heavy boot kicked at the inside of your own, widening your stance even further. His gloved hands pressed against your shoulder with a firm tap, guiding you into position before withdrawing just as quickly. "Again."

As the Ghoul moved back to his post, you steadied the gun out before you, pushing down the giddiness that surged through you like a current. It was an unexpected sensation, sparked by the lingering heat left behind by his brief touch—the first physical contact he had initiated since your embrace around the fire. You took aim at the first bottle, and with the memory of his guidance in your mind, you pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out, its echo reverberating through the desolate wasteland. A split second later, the sharp noise of the bottle smashing reached your ears, the shattered pieces scattering across the ground like sparkling jewels.

"Yes!" you exclaimed triumphantly, a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you raised your arms above your head in victory. Turning to your mentor with a wide grin, you hoped for words of praise, but you were instead met with a stoic nod of approval, his expression unreadable as he regarded you with a steady gaze. Disappointment panged in your chest, a fleeting moment of deflation amidst the rush of triumph.

"Four more, then you can celebrate," he gestured towards the remaining targets and you eyed him with defeat as your arms dropped to your side.

Eyebrows furrowed in determination, you rolled you neck as you prepared yourself. A brief glimmer of pride flickered in his eyes as he watched you turn back towards your targets with a raised weapon.

"Four more, then you cook dinner," you countered and he laughed quietly, a short huff of air out his nose that was barely perceptible.

As the afternoon wore on, you focused all your concentration on the task at hand, determined to prove yourself capable not just to the Ghoul but to yourself. With each bullet that flew past its target, the Ghoul's sighs of irritation echoed in the stifling air.

He had retreated to the scant shade offered by a nearby fence, his slumped posture a testament to the oppressive heat that hung heavy in the air. From his vantage point, he observed your progress with a stoic demeanour, offering little in the way of encouragement as you struggled to find your mark. Still, you refused to be deterred by his silence, channelling your frustration and determination into each shot. With each miss, you adjusted your stance, honing your focus. Finally, the satisfying sound of shattering glass filled the air as the last bottle exploded into a thousand pieces, scattering across the ground.

Pride swelled within you as you looked down at your gun, a tool that had once seemed so foreign and intimidating. In that moment, a sense of awe washed over you as you realized just how far you had come from the life you had once known. The image of yourself as a wife, a homemaker, seemed like a distant memory, a remnant of a time before the world had been plunged into chaos. 

As you stood there, gun in hand, dirt under your nails, and a sense of purpose burning within your soul, you couldn't help but wonder how absurd your former self would find this scene. The thought of her reaction brought a smile to your lips, a bittersweet reminder of the person you had once been, and the person you were becoming.

A slow clap from behind you drew your attention, and you turned to see your partner walking towards you, his lips pulled into a wry smile. "Well, as long as no one moves, you might just cut it."

Despite his teasing, you welcomed the familiar banter, a reminder of the rapport that had developed between you before it's abrupt end. With a smile, you looked him over, a wave of gratitude washing over you. "Thank you, for this," you said, gesturing with the gun towards the broken glass. "I feel like The Man From Deadhorse."

With a playful grin, you raised your gun towards the Ghoul, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "I hope you like the taste of lead, you commie son of a bitch."

The sudden shift in atmosphere caught you off guard, the playful jest dying on your lips as the Ghoul's demeanour transformed with alarming speed. Before you could react, he closed the distance between you with swift, purposeful strides, his grisly features contorted with rage.

In the blink of an eye, he knocked the gun from your hand, the dull thud as it buried into the sand was loud in the tense quiet. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched in stunned silence, your wide eyes snapping back to him when he seized your arms in a vice-like grip.

"You don't play like that, you hear?" he scolded, his voice low and harsh, the intensity of his gaze drilling into you like a laser. His leather-clad fingers dug into your flesh, leaving behind faint impressions as he held you firmly in place.

With a shaky nod, you swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, "I hear you." The tension hung thick in the air between you. "It was from a movie, I didn't mean nothing by it."

As he regarded you, the intensity of his grip slowly eased, his features softening marginally as he released you from his grasp. Though his anger still simmered beneath the surface, there was a hint of remorse in his eyes, a silent apology for his outburst. "This ain't no movie, darlin'."

"I know that," you said wistfully.

"Then act like it," he grunted, a wheezing cough escaping him before turning away. "Let's get moving," he muttered, his voice tinged with resignation as he retrieved the gun from the sand and handed it back to you.

You holstered your gun, a sense of caution settling over you as you eyed him warily, your footsteps echoing softly against the gravel path as you followed him back to your shelter. He stopped abruptly a few steps ahead, his posture rigid as he doubled over, sputtering into his closed fist.

Instinctively, you moved toward him, concern etched into your features, but you halted in your tracks at the sight of his outstretched hand. "Get back," he rasped, his voice strained, a clear warning in his tone.

You watched with growing unease as he struggled to regain his composure, each laboured breath sounding like a heavy weight upon his chest. The deep, chest-rattling wheeze that emanated from him sent a shiver down your spine, but despite the urge to rush to his aid, you knew better than to defy his command. With a reluctant step backward, you maintained a cautious distance, your eyes never leaving him as you waited anxiously for the bout of coughing to pass.

The coughing had started a few days prior, coming sporadically but with increasing frequency, especially when the Ghoul worked himself up. At first, you had dismissed it as the inevitable toll of his years spent wandering through dust and dirt, but as the days passed and you witnessed the panic in his eyes one evening while he counted his stock of liquid-filled vials, you knew it was something more. The sight of his trembling hands, the frantic glint in his tired eyes, sent a chill down your spine,

You didn't fully understand the significance of the vials, only that they were his medicine—but for what ailment, you couldn't be certain. You had assumed it was for pain, a necessary relief for someone who had endured the relentless exposure to radiation for so long. You knew better than to ask him about it directly. Even in moments of calm, when the worry over his dwindling supply wasn't etched into his furrowed brow, you knew that prying into something so personal would be met with resistance.

The Ghoul staggered back to the shelter and you followed behind him with growing concern, your heart pounding in your chest. You watched in silence as he grasped the stair rails for support, his normally steady gait now faltering. It was a sight you had never witnessed before—him weakened and vulnerable—and fear shot through you like a bolt of lightning, unwelcome thoughts of what this could mean racing through your mind.

You quickly put the invasive thoughts aside, hurrying to join him inside where you found him hunched over his saddlebag. His movements were frenzied as he loaded a vial into the inhaler that distributed the medicine. With a deep, shaky breath, he puffed the inhaler, the sound echoing loudly in the confined space. Minutes stretched into eternity as he fought to regain control of his breathing, his chest heaving with each ragged inhale.

You held your breath in anticipation, watching as his chest heaved and then settled, but your frown deepened when a groan escaped him. He threw himself back against the wall, his movements laboured and unsteady. His arms hung limp at his sides, the inhaler discarded and forgotten on the ground beside him. His hat slipped from his head, tumbling to the dirtied tiles below, leaving his bald head glistening with perspiration, the droplets of sweat trickling down his tired face.

It was a sobering sight, one that filled you with a sense of helplessness as you stood before him, unsure of what to do to alleviate his suffering.

"Told you to stay away," he breathed, his voice weary as he met your gaze, exhaustion evident in his eyes. "I'm fine," he muttered, though the strain in his voice betrayed his words. "Just need to close my eyes."

As his eyes fluttered shut, you moved to his saddlebag with haste, your heart pounding in your chest as you searched desperately for another vial to bring him back to you. But as your trembling hands sifted through the contents, your heart sank like a stone—empty. He had been rationing his vials for days now, telling you there was a place up ahead to get more, but that you weren't to come with him. Another one of his solo trips.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that he was going nowhere in this condition. His shallow breathing reduced you to panic as you fumbled at the inside of his heavy duster, your hands shaking with urgency. Ignoring the incessant clicking of the dosimeter, you pulled out a weathered map that he had drawn up at the beginning of your journey, showing you just how far you had to go until you'd find the haven and the stops that you'd make between.

Your gaze swept over the roughly sketched lines and symbols, tracing the route ahead with a growing sense of urgency. Finally, your eyes landed on a cluster of squares topped with triangles, situated close to the location you recognized as your shelter on the map. Beside them, a lone letter "V" was scrawled, signalling the area designated for his next collection of vials. The distance seemed manageable, just a half-day's journey at most—perhaps even less if you pushed yourself.

The prospect of venturing out alone was daunting, yet despite the risk of leaving him vulnerable, of being scolded for leaving upon your return, you knew there was no alternative. He relied on those vials, and you relied on him.

With a heavy heart, you removed his gun from its holster, carefully positioning his gloved hand around its grip before settling it on his lap. Adjusting his hat back on his head to shroud his closed eyes, you hoped that any passing traveller might be deterred by the implication of a formidable foe awaiting their approach.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced back at your companion one last time, the weight of your decision settling heavily upon you. With a silent prayer for his safety, you asked him to wish you luck before turning away and setting off towards your new destination, determined to retrieve the vials and save the Ghoul.

The two-story house stood large and imposing before you, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon casting long shadows across the grounds. Its faded white paint was peeling, revealing the weather-beaten wood beneath, and its roof sagged precariously as if it could collapse at any moment. The yard, overgrown with tall grass and weeds, was littered with the carcasses of rusty, broken-down vehicles and an assortment of discarded debris, each piece a story of neglect and abandonment.

Stepping onto the sprawling porch, the creak of the wooden boards seemed to echo through the still air as you steadied your nerves. You rapped your knuckles against the front door that hung slightly ajar. 

"Whaddya want?" a disgruntled voice hollered from inside, and you stepped back as the door was torn open to reveal a man, his greying hair unkempt and greasy, clinging to his weathered face that was etched with deep lines and one large, pink scar from eye to jaw. "Well, what is it?"

Clearing your throat to dispel the tension, you attempted a friendly smile as you greeted him. "Hello, I'm hoping you can help me," you began, holding the unfolded map up to show him. With a pointed finger, you indicated the spot marked by the Ghoul with a "V." "I'm looking for vials, is this where I can get them?"

He peered closer to the map, beady eyes squinting as he considered it. With a dirty hand, he rubbed at the white stubble of his chin as he hummed, his gaze flicking over you quickly before straightening. "Vials, you say? You're in luck," he gave you a toothy smile, displaying his blackened teeth.

Despite the turn in your stomach, you breathed a sigh of relief. Tucking the map away in the side of your bag, you smiled gratefully. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that," you laughed.

"Well, don't dilly-dally on my porch all night, girl," he said, ushering you inside.

Stepping into the dimly lit home, you were hit by the musty scent of decay and mould. The house was cluttered, filled with stacks of old newspapers, broken furniture, and various knickknacks. The man led you through a narrow hallway into a small room that served as both a living space and a workshop. A cluttered table sat against one wall, covered in tools, scraps of metal, and various mechanical parts.

"Sit," he ordered, pointing to a rickety chair near the table. "I'll see what I got."

You sat down cautiously, the chair creaking under your weight. The man rummaged through a pile of junk on a nearby shelf, muttering to himself as he searched. After a few tense moments, he produced a small wooden box and placed it on the table in front of you.

"Here they are," he said, his tone gruff. "How many you need?"

You glanced at box, your heart pounding with a mix of relief and anxiety. "I need as many as you can spare. How much for all of them?"

The man scratched his head, considering your request. "Caps, or trade?" he asked, eyeing your bag.

"I have caps," you replied, reaching into your bag and pulling out a small pouch. You poured the caps onto the table, counting them quickly. "Is this enough?"

He scooped up the caps, weighing them in his hand before shaking his head. "Not hardly," he said, pocketing them as he stared down at you expectantly. You quickly fumbled in your bag, trying to find something to offer. "How about that there contraption?"

Your eyes followed his to the Pip-Boy on your wrist. What would the Ghoul say if you returned without it? He had insisted you keep it on, gifting it to you as a means of gaining some semblance of control that you desperately wanted. Granted it had recently become an unwanted reminder that loneliness would be your only companion until you met your baby, but he wouldn't want you to trade it. Yet he wasn't here, and you were in desperate need of those vials.

"Please, anything else," you pleaded, one last ditch attempt at negotiation as you rifled through the contents of your bag. "I have scrap, copper, toothpaste, you can even have my gun," you continued, listing your items in a desperate ramble before throwing your gun onto the table beside you. 

The man's narrow gaze swept over the array of items you had laid out, his expression a mask of disdain. Without hesitation, he seized your bag and upended its contents onto the worn tabletop. With a rough hand, he sifted through the items, emitting grunts of disapproval as he scrutinized each one.

"No, no good," he muttered, crossing his arms in a gesture of finality. "That thing's worth more than all that junk combined." His lip curled in distaste as he indicated the Pip-Boy resting on your wrist. "It's the gadget or no deal."

Desperation gnawed at you. You needed those vials; the Ghoul's life depended on it. Leaving empty-handed wasn't an option. Fighting back tears, you took a deep breath and looked up at the man, striving to keep your voice steady. "Fine, it's a deal," you conceded, fingers trembling as you unclasped the precious device from your wrist, placing it reluctantly into his filthy palms.

His cracked lips curled into a predatory grin as he regarded his newfound treasure. With a casual shove, he pushed the box of vials across the table towards you. Eagerly, you reached for it, anticipation tingling in your fingertips. But as you pried open the lid, hope turned to bitter disappointment at the sight within.

"There are only three vials here," you stated, disbelief colouring your voice. "We agreed on the Pip-Boy for everything you've got."

A mirthless chuckle escaped the man's throat as he he leaned back against the table, a smug gleam in his eyes. "There it is," he declared, gesturing towards the meagre contents of the box in your hands. "Lesson learned, darlin'. Always check the goods before sealing the deal."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration, cursing yourself inwardly for falling prey to such a blatant deception. Anger surged within you, fuelled by both the injustice of the situation and the man's smug satisfaction.

"That's not fair!" Your voice rose, laced with indignation, drawing a startled expression from the man across the table.

"Now listen here, you little-"

"What's all this hoo-ha about?" a woman's voice interrupted him as she entered the room. She was about the same age as the man, greying and wrinkled, but whereas his face was stern, hers warmed when she saw you. Her hands went to the apron tied around her thin waist, wiping at the dirty fabric as she spoke. "Well, who do we have here?"

The man released an exasperated sigh, his patience wearing thin. "Just a fool not knowing when a deal is done," he muttered, flinging your empty bag in your direction. "Collect your shit and hit the road."

Before you could react, her hand shot out with startling speed, connecting with the back of his head with a resounding smack. He recoiled, irritation contorting his features as he rubbed the offended spot.

"Goddamn, woman!" he exclaimed, shooting her a venomous glare. "She got the chems, I held up my end of the bargain."

Her eyebrows arched inquisitively as she scrutinized you. "And what might someone like you want with those?"

"My friend, he's unwell," you explained, rising from your seat to begin to deposit your items back in the bag. 

"So, he sent you to fetch them," she deduced.

You nodded, choosing your words carefully as you gauged the situation. Despite her apparent kindness, you sensed it wise to withhold certain details of your predicament. "Something along those lines," you replied cautiously, then pointed to the three vials. "I just hoped there were more."

"There are more," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument as she delivered a swift reprimand to the man beside her. "Edwin, why are you lying to this poor girl?"

Edwin, still nursing a sore spot on his head from her earlier blow, shot her a disgruntled look. "Can't a man try and make a profit in this economy?"

Ignoring his protest, she turned her attention back to you, a friendly smile gracing her features. "My husband will whip up as many vials as you need, don't you fret," she assured, her reassurance a comforting balm to your frayed nerves. Casting a disapproving glance at Edwin as he started to object once more, she added, "And to make amends for his rudeness, I'll whip you up a plate."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, but I really must hurry these back to my friend," you insisted.

"Of course you must," she affirmed, her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled again. "Edwin will go fetch you some from the cellar. We can't keep such valuable stock out in the open, you understand." Her explanation was delivered with a nod of assurance, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Edwin grumbled, leaving the room presumably to fetch the vials.

"Why don't you and me wait for him in the dinin' room," she suggested, her voice carrying a hint of Southern charm from the old world. "You ain't tasted nothin' till you tried my brahmin roast." 

Your protests dissolved into silence as she gently guided you into the room from whence she appeared. A grand wooden dining table commanded the centre of the space, its unpolished surface bearing the scars of time and use. Two weathered candelabras sat empty upon the worn tabletop framing an intricately designed vase that stood proudly in the centre, its once-vibrant bouquet now reduced to a collection of decaying flowers, a red hue faded to a sombre brown. Despite its faded grandeur, there was a certain charm to the room, a nostalgic reminder of simpler times.

Memories of your past life flooded your mind. You remembered the stressful joy of hosting gatherings, the meticulous attention to detail as you fretted over the correct placement of place mats and whether the centrepiece was in keeping with the latest trends from the home magazines you avidly read. Glenn, ever the laid-back husband, would often be found nestled in his recliner, savouring a glass of whiskey as the radio drowned out your worries. He only intervened when you were on the verge of tears, calling for Patti to come and mend his frantic wife.

As you took in the scene before you, a pang of nostalgia tugged at your heartstrings, a bittersweet reminder of a life left behind in the wake of the bombs. In this dilapidated dining room, this family had somehow managed to create a semblance of normalcy amongst the disorder. You only hoped to do the same for your own child.

"I'll have Junior walk you back to your friend," she announced, her voice carrying a gentle authority as she guided you to a seat amidst the array of mismatched chairs. "He's a good boy, you won't come into any trouble out there with him by your side." 

With a tender smile, she disappeared through a swinging door, leaving you to ponder her offer in the dimly lit room. However, your contemplation was interrupted by an unpleasant odour that wafted through the doorway, assaulting your senses with its acrid essence. The stench caused your stomach to churn uneasily, and you couldn't help but wrinkle your nose in distaste.

As she returned with two steaming plates balanced delicately in her hands, the offensive smell accompanied her, its presence overwhelming. Recoiling slightly, you fought to suppress the urge to gag and wondered how the woman wasn't doing the same.

Setting one plate down before you with practiced grace, she deftly produced a worn napkin from her apron, gently draping it across your lap with an air of hospitality. Expressing your gratitude, you watched warily as she took her seat opposite you, her eyes bright with anticipation.

Since your escape from the vault, you hadn't consumed anything that hadn't been prepared by your own hands or originated from a tin can. While her gesture was undoubtedly kind, you couldn't shake the apprehension that gnawed at you, fuelled by the putrid scent emanating from the meat on your plate.

You hesitantly prodded at the dish, watching as the jellied fat quivered around the thick bone it encased. A wave of revulsion washed over you, and opting instead to sample a carrot, you found it had been thoroughly drenched in the juices and carried the same off-putting aroma as the dubious meat.

Swallowing heavily, you mustered an encouraging smile for the woman across from you as she observed your reaction, her gaze expectant. Despite the foul taste in your mouth, you smiled in appreciation, hoping that it was enough to mask your unease. 

"It's delicious," you fibbed, delicately patting the corners of your mouth with the napkin. You eyed the door you had entered through. "Will your husband be joining us soon?"

You didn't want to push, but the urgency of your situation weighed heavily on your mind. Every moment spent away from the Ghoul felt like an eternity, and the thought of his deteriorating condition filled you with a sense of dread. You could have left with those three vials, but what guarantee did you have that they would be enough?

You knew nothing about his condition, nor did you possess the knowledge to provide any meaningful assistance. All you could do was return with as many vials as you could carry, hoping that the sheer quantity would be enough to appease him and alleviate any resentment he might harbour towards you for leaving.

"It's a big cellar," she offered in explanation, her tone carrying a hint of apology for her husband's delay. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, her gaze unwaveringly fixed on you. "Gets a mite lonesome in this old house."

You offered her a sympathetic smile, sensing a shared understanding of loneliness in her words. "And Junior, is he your son?" you asked.

"One of 'em," she replied with a wistful smile, her gaze drifting momentarily into the distance. "The only one left. Tall as a redwood and about as sharp as one too, bless his heart." There was a fondness in her tone, a mother's unconditional love for her child evident in every word. "But us mothers, we love 'em all the same, don't we?" she added with a gentle chuckle, her eyes flicking to your pregnant belly before returning to meet yours with a glimmer of joy.

Your eyes widened in astonishment at her revelation, and a surge of vulnerability and protectiveness welled within you, prompting your hands to instinctively cradle your bump. You had grown noticeably, your pregnancy now too pronounced to conceal any longer, compelling you to discard your vault suit in favour of garments salvaged from an old dresser. Amidst the solitude of your journey with the Ghoul, encounters with others had been rare, limited to a handful of oblivious traders who had failed to notice your condition. This unexpected revelation felt like a breach of privacy, like divulging a secret that had been shared exclusively between you and your companion.

"Of course," you replied cautiously, sensing the weight of her words.

"I'd move mountains for my boy, just to ensure he's fed and breathing. In this world, that's about all a mother can aspire to," she murmured, eyes glistening with the threat of tears. "It's a pitiful state when a mother can't even provide that much for her own kin."

Your heart constricted with anguish, fears surging to the forefront as you contemplated the prospect of being unable to provide even the most basic necessities for your unborn child. The notion of welcoming a helpless infant into a world of scarcity and violence filled you with terror. You had been hesitant to confront the reality of impending motherhood, unsure of how you would navigate the responsibilities that lay ahead. Despite clinging to the hope that sanctuary awaited you at the haven, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt that lingered in the recesses of your mind.

As you looked into her sad eyes, a pang of empathy tugged at your heartstrings. This poor woman had endured unimaginable loss, yet here she was, seemingly trying to cling to a semblance of normality by creating a home for her remaining family in the wasteland.  It was a fragile existence, one that could be snatched away at any moment, and as her resilience struck a chord within you, you wondered: Could this be your future as well? The thought lingered in the depths of your mind, weighing heavy on your chest. 

"Don't feel sorry for me, darlin', I got my time with my boys," she assured you, reaching across the table to rest her hand gently on yours. 

You smiled sadly as you regarded her. "I can't even imagine what you've been through," you admitted, your voice laced with genuine sympathy.

"No, I suppose you can't," she replied softly, her hand withdrawing from yours as she settled back in her chair. There was a moment of quiet contemplation before she spoke again, her words carrying the weight of hard-earned wisdom. "I've come to realize in this world that it's not about what's been done to us, but what we are willing to do."

You nodded in agreement. You had been thrust into this harsh reality, subjected to the horrors of the vaults and the betrayal of those who promised salvation. Yet, despite the trials and tribulations you had faced, you had fought tooth and nail to survive, to carve out a place for yourself in this dangerous new world. And now, with the imminent arrival of your child, that determination burned even brighter within you.

"Are you willing to do anything for your baby?" she asked, her voice soft yet resolute. Without hesitation, you nodded, unwavering resolve in your eyes.

Her gaze dropped to the table momentarily, lost in thought, before lifting once more to meet yours. "So am I," she declared softly, an edge in her voice that belied her gentle demeanour.

With a swift motion, she brought her index and middle finger to her lips, emitting a sharp whistle that pierced through the stillness of the old house. Your brows furrowed, trying to make sense of her action before Edwin shuffled into the room, trailed by a looming figure whose long hair obscured the majority of his face. "Christ, Mag, I thought we'd be waiting all night," the older man grumbled. "Junior, grab the girl."

You turned your gaze back to Mag, the panic rising within you like a tidal wave, but as your eyes searched for reassurance in hers, you found only avoidance. Her gaze remained fixed on the table, refusing to meet yours, her expression inscrutable.

Junior closed the distance with two swift strides, his towering frame engulfing you as he efficiently yanked you from your seat, flinging you onto your back on the table with a brutal force that stole the air from your lungs. The table's decorations rattled to the ground, mingling with the scattered food in a cacophonous crash.

As Mag's now stern voice echoed through the room, a cold shiver ran down your spine. "Don't leave any marks, Junior," she scolded, authority in her tone. Her son nodded in obedience.

Your hands trembled as you instinctively reached for your holster, only to curse under your breath when you found it empty. The realization hit you like a sledgehammer— you had handed your gun to Edwin during the negotiations, a decision that now seemed foolish in hindsight. Defenceless, vulnerable, and at the mercy of forces beyond your control. Like a cruel nightmare, you were back where you had started. 

"Can't sell meat that's all bruised up," Mag's words lingered in the air as she left the room and your eyes widened in terror as the door swung to a shut. You scrambled to rise from the table, but Junior pushed you back down, though this time with less force. 

"Please, you don't have to do this," you begged, tears welling in your eyes.

"She's not for selling, she's for eating," Edwin interjected callously, disregarding your pleas as he seized your ankles. Junior seized your wrists in an iron grip and pinned them above your head, stretching you out before them. 

"Says who, you old coot?" Mag challenged, reappearing with a hefty butcher knife gripped firmly in her hand. The awful smell filled the room again, and you felt bile rise in your throat.

"Says me, the one who got her inside in the first place," he retorted, grunting as you struggled against his grip. "Besides, I'm sick of that rancid meat. He's been festering in there for weeks." He nodded toward the door where the putrid smell was emitting from.

His words sent a chill down your spine as you glanced at the mess of food scattered across the floor. Your eyes honed in on the repulsive meat that now lay splayed on the grubby carpet amongst the ceramic shards of the plates. Brahmin meat, she had told you, but now you realized it was another poor soul who had crossed this family's path.

Perhaps you were naïve to not consider the act of cannibalism in this dire new reality, but your mind reeled at the images of teeth ripping through bloody flesh.

"Please, why are you doing this?" you cried, tears hot on your cheeks as panic consumed you, each futile struggle met with unyielding strength from Edwin and Junior. Mag moved to your side.

"We've had this conversation, darlin', you know why," Mag whispered, her face looming mere inches from yours. The warmth that once suffused her features had now drained away, replaced by a chilling resolve as she gazed down at you. "Motherhood demands sacrifice, and this is the sacrifice I'm willing to make."

Her gaze shifted to your belly, assessing it before turning to address the old man. "We'll keep her for meat and sell the babe for a hefty sum," she declared, eliciting a triumphant whoop from him. As her hand tenderly caressed your sweat-dampened hair, a shiver ran down your spine at the realization of your fate. "I want you to know that I mean you no ill will," she murmured, her voice a soothing contrast to the horror of her words. "But my boy has to eat."

The gentle touch of her hand offered little comfort as you recoiled from her touch. When you shook your head in a futile attempt to rid yourself of her grasp, she stepped back, her voice hardening once more.

"I wish I could promise this won't hurt, but there's only one way this baby's comin' out," she stated matter-of-factly, her words ringing with finality as the weight of your impending ordeal settled like lead in the pit of your stomach.

As the blade hovered menacingly above you, your mind raced with desperate thoughts. You couldn't shake the image of the Ghoul alone, abandoned where you'd left him while you embarked on this ill-fated rescue mission. What if he awoke to find you gone, vanished without a trace? Would he think you'd left him, angry over what had transpired between you both? Or perhaps that you'd waited until his weakest moment to finally run from him. The mere notion tore at your heartstrings.

You needed him to know the truth, to understand that your departure was in aide to help him not abandon him. You couldn't die knowing that he may think so badly of you, even though you weren't sure why it mattered so much. He'd been difficult and stubborn, scolded you and made you cry, but there was a yearning that you felt for him beyond your own understanding. With every fibre of your being, you silently pleaded for a chance to return to his side, to make things right and ensure that he could never doubt your devotion.

But you were trapped, with nowhere to run and no escape from the horrors unfolding before you. The full stretch of your body left your bare stomach uncomfortably exposed to the imminent danger. The cold, unforgiving blade of the knife traced a path across the swell of your belly, its touch sending shivers of dread coursing through your veins. Though the first cut was not deep, the sting of pain accompanied by the trickle of blood down your side served as a grim reminder of the perilous situation you had walked yourself and your unborn child into.

Since escaping the clutches of the vault, you hadn't dared to picture your future, quickly learning that the dangers of the wasteland were capable of shattering your reality with ruthless brutality from one moment to the next. Yet, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing had remained constant: your unwavering determination to protect and nurture the life growing within you.

From the moment you heard the doctor confirm your pregnancy, a flicker of hope ignited within you. Despite the deceit of your husband, the looming threat of war, and every obstacle that stood in your path, you had clung to the unwavering belief that you were destined for motherhood. It was a truth that resonated deep within your heart, but you felt it slowly being swallowed by the hollow ache of despair and regret.

With a heavy heart weighing down every fibre of your being, you closed your eyes, bracing yourself for what was to come. In that harrowing moment, a chilling realization swept over you like a tidal wave: if you were to remain conscious through these next moments, you would meet your baby. You were so far from carrying to full-term, but why would Mag go to such lengths unless she was confident that your baby would survive. Afterall, a living baby must be worth a fortune in the wasteland. A commodity, as the Ghoul had described you. 

Then, the thought pierced your soul: your baby would enter the world alone, without you, unaware of what transpired or why you weren't there beside them. Growing up to think that their mother never loved them. You couldn't let it happen.

With your last shred of resolve shattered, a primal scream tore from your throat.

A distant crash from another room shattered the tense atmosphere, bringing the woman's relentless pursuit with the knife to an abrupt halt. All three members of the family turned their heads towards the doorway, their eyes widening in shock as it was obliterated before them. A deafening cacophony of splintering wood filled the air as a single bullet burst through, sending wooden fragments flying in all directions.

Instinctively, you turned your head away, seeking whatever meagre protection you could get. In the midst of the commotion, Edwin's agonized holler pierced the air, his body recoiling as the bullet sliced through his neck. With a forceful impact, he was thrown back against the kitchen doorway, his form crumpling to the ground with a heavy thud that reverberated throughout the room.

Junior's anguished wails pierced your eardrums. Despite his distress, his vice-like grip remained unyielding, keeping you firmly in place even as he grappled with the shock of his father's demise.

Meanwhile, Mag offered only a fleeting acknowledgment to the lifeless form of her husband before her attention snapped back to the now-open doorway. There, a figure emerged, a silhouette framed by the shattered remnants of the entrance. With each step, the sound of spurred boots rang out like a beacon of hope.

As the Ghoul's hulking frame filled the doorway, a wave of relief washed over you. He appeared worlds apart from the unconscious man you had left behind in search of aid, and as you took in his daunting appearance, you noticed the inhaler clutched in his hand, an almost empty vial inserted inside. 

Locking eyes with him across the room, you watched as his weary gaze swept over the scene before him: you, splayed out and held down on the table, a small cut marring your belly, tears streaking your face.

In that fleeting moment, his expression darkened with a silent fury. With swift and merciless precision, he raised his magnum, his aim unwavering as he first targeted Junior. In an instant, the sound of gunfire shot through the room, a single slug piercing through Junior's skull, extinguishing his cries in a heartbeat.

Mag's horrified gaze barely had time to register the terror before her own fate was sealed. She turned to the Ghoul with venom in her eyes. "Coop—"

With ruthless efficiency, another bullet tore through her chest, sending her crumpling to the floor beside her fallen son. In the span of mere seconds, the room fell almost silent, the only sound being the Ghoul's heavy breaths as he surveyed the aftermath of his swift justice.

A low groan echoed across the room, drawing the Ghoul's attention to the source of the sound. Without hesitation, he fired off two more shots into Edwin's chest, putting an end to his suffering. As the final ring of gunfire faded, the Ghoul lowered his gun, his gaze fixated on you once more. His eyes, dark and brooding, seemed to bore into your very soul, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable in their intense scrutiny.

With trembling hands, you pushed yourself up to sit on the table, the weight of so many emotions swirling within you like a windstorm raging inside your chest. Fear, relief, guilt, and gratitude warred for dominance, each vying for your attention as you struggled to make sense of the harrowing ordeal that had unfolded before you. In that moment of uncertainty, you found yourself paralyzed by indecision, unsure of how to proceed as you watched the Ghoul, awaiting his instruction.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he holstered his gun and tucked the inhaler back inside his coat, the look of anguish etched upon his scarred face. With a silent understanding passing between you, he beckoned you to him with a curl of his fingers, a wordless invitation for comfort that you never thought possible from him. Your body moved on instinct, propelled forward by a force beyond conscious thought, as you leaped from the table and into the safety of his waiting arms. In that moment, all pretence of strength crumbled away, leaving you clinging to him with a desperation that bordered on frantic.

You held onto him so tightly that you could almost feel the air being squeezed from your lungs. As his muscular arms enveloped you and your unborn child, a floodgate of emotion burst open within you, unleashing an outburst of tears that wracked your body with their intensity.

"I never left you," you whispered through each sob, your voice hoarse from screaming, the words spilling out in a plea for understanding. "I swear, I was coming back."

His touch was tender as he stroked your hair, his breath warm against your ear as he comforted your trembling form. "Nobody would blame you if you hadn't," he murmured softly, then cleared his throat. "I told you, you weren't to come here."

"I had to save you," you insisted, your voice shaking but resolute.

"Sure did a fine job," he said, glancing around the room at the carnage. "Looked like you had everything under control."

His teasing stung, and you pulled away from him, hurt flashing in your eyes as you stood your ground. "You were unconscious. If I hadn't come, you would have—" your voice cracked, unable to finish the thought.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" he interrupted, irritation thick in his voice. "Good thing too, because I wasn't aware just how dumb you could be."

"I didn't know if you'd make it," you shot back, your voice a raw blend of frustration and fear. "I had to do something, I couldn't lose you."

For a brief moment, his eyes softened, a flicker of understanding passing between you. But it was quickly replaced by steely conviction. He pointed a gloved finger at your belly, his tone firm yet edged with concern. "I shouldn't be your concern right now."

You cradled your bump protectively, looking up at him with glistening eyes. "And yet here we are."

He was silent for a moment, his hand dropping back to his side as he regarded you with a mix of frustration and helplessness. "What am I going to do with you?" he muttered, more to himself than to you.

You didn't answer him. Instead, you moved back into his chest, seeking the comfort you'd felt moments before. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, the tension in his muscles softening as he held you close.

"This can't keep happening," he said after moments of silence passed between you, his words hammering at your heart. You couldn't tell if he was referring to the intimacy of your embrace or your reckless brush with death once again. Regardless, you tightened your grip on him.

"Just a little longer," you whispered, your voice barely audible. He sighed in resignation as he gently disentangled your arms from his waist, pushing you back to look into your eyes. His hand slipped into the pocket of his coat, and he retrieved the device that would sever any remaining physical connection between you.

You had barely had time to enjoy the unbridled freedom of those moments in his embrace, the silence broken only by the rhythmic beating of his heart against your cheek rather than the disturbing clicking. But now, as your eyes fell on the Pip-Boy, you realized you weren't ready to relinquish that freedom, despite the protection it promised.

"I told you not to take it off," he chided. When you started to explain yourself, he cut you off. "I don't care, just put it back on."

You shook your head, your eyes locking with his, defiance met with disappointment. "Don't make me do it," he pleaded earnestly, his voice softening, laden with a desperation you hadn't heard from him before.

"I have a choice, and so do you," you told him, your voice steady but your heart pounding.

He smiled sadly, a bittersweet expression that deepened the ache in your chest. "I wish that were true," he replied, pulling your hand gently and fastening the Pip-Boy around your wrist. The device closed with a sickening clink, severing the fragile connection between you. You held his gaze, chin high, though you wanted to curl into yourself.

"I wonder if it really is me you're protecting with this thing," you said, your voice trembling with rage and sorrow, your hand still enclosed in his as the clicking commenced. "I'm not so sure anymore."

His gaze dropped as he took a deep breath, bracing himself before looking back at you with a rueful smile. "Me neither, vaultie," he admitted, his voice a whisper of regret. He dropped your hand and turned to leave the room. "Maybe it's better that way."

He disappeared through the open doorway, leaving you alone with the heavy silence and the cold weight of the Pip-Boy on your wrist. The freedom of touch you had tasted moments ago now felt like a distant memory, replaced by the stark reality that, regardless of anything else, the Ghoul was determined to keep you at a distance. 

Taglist: @cheshirecat484 @lothiriel9 @ancientbeing10 @sillysimping @maeplaysbass @moon-trash1507 @spookyoat @rebelmarylou @writtenbyhollywood

[hoejosatoru]

Best Birthday Gift

Parining: Fem! reader x college au! Hinata, Ft. Bokuto

Summary: Hinata has a huge crush on you. He wants you bad. There are just 2 problems: you were dating his best friend, Bokuto, and he was virgin. However, when Bokuto has a little surprise for Hinata’s birthday.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Virginity loss (hinata), Hinata has a few pervy thoughts I guess?, pussy job, cum eating, use of good boy, voyeurism kinda, subby Hinata, not proof read. MDNI 

Hinata’s pulse quickened as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to quell the flutters in his stomach. No, he was not on the court for a game. He was at his birthday party, sweating over the little sundress you showed up in. He replayed you hugging him when you showed up, your boobs squishing against...

Stop it, he thought trying to shake the thought out of his head. He couldn’t think about you like that. Not because he thought you were out of his league, which he totally did, but because you were his best friend’s girl friend. Hinata was currently watching you hold on to Boktuo’s arm, looking at him with a suggestive spark in your eyes. He hoped that seeing you with him would shut the thoughts up, but all that was playing in his mind was how badly he wanted you to at him like that. 

He ran a hand through his tangerine hair, cursing himself. He felt guilty for thinking about his friend’s girlfriend like that. And that was one of his more innocent thoughts. He knew it was was wrong, knew that you were totally off limits. No matter how big his crush on you was, he would never, ever do something to get between you and Bokuto. He care about you both too much. Still, that wasn’t enough to get him to stop thinking about how your lips would feel pressed on his nec- okay he really has to stop watching you two.

“Christ, Shoyo, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Hinata startled, not realizing Sakusa had appeared beside him. He was eerily quiet like that. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Hinata grumbled, a little too quickly, tearing his eyes away from you. Sakusa followed where Hinata’s gaze had been, landing on you and Bokuto. He was the most observant and intelligent of Hinata’s college friends, easily putting two and two together.

“Are you jealous?” Sakusa teased, jabbing Hinata’s shoulder.

“I am not jealous,” Hinata responded in a way that Sakusa knew meant he was, in fact, very jealous.

“Oh, Hinata,” Sakusa snickered, taking a sip of his drink. “I always knew you were an idiot, but this is something else.”

“Shut up.” Hinata snatched the drink out of Sakusa’s hand, gulped down a few burning sips, then shoved it back to him. He knew it was freak the germaphobe out. “You’re taste in alcohol sucks.” With that, Hinata stormed off, pouting. 

Some birthday this is, he grumbled to himself. Hinata slid back into he house he shared with his teammates, Sakusa, Bokuto, and Atsumu, shutting the party outside. He flopped down on the couch, downing a drink in the quiet hoping it would ease his frustration. He wasn't sure exactly how long he was sitting there when you appeared in front of him.

“What’re you doing inside, Sho?” Sho. He loved the little nickname you gave him, how sweetly you said it. 

Hinata shrugged, trying to remain calm as you say next to him. “Sakusa was just being a dick.”

“Ugh, he’s always in a shit mood,” you replied. Your thigh was pressed against him, which absolutely did not go unnoticed by Hinata. He felt his face heat up as he shifted nervously, hoping you didn’t notice. “What can I do to make you feel better?” Your words slurred ever so slightly. You were not drink, but definitely buzzed. You were looking at Hinata with big, sweet doe eyes, which made his pants feel tight. The way you were leaning into him made the top of your dress hang lower, giving him an extra peek at your boobs. Fuck, he thought.

“N-nothing, I’m okay.” He wasn’t sure if he sounded as nervous as he felt, or if it just seemed like he was drunk. He was definitely feeling quite tipsy after downing that last drink and prayed you thought it was the latter.

“Oh come on, Sho,” you pressed, placing a hand on his thigh. It was a simple, innocent gesture. You probably hadn’t thought twice about it. But Hinata could feel himself getting hard. “There’s gotta be something I could do.”

Of course, Hinata had a long list of things you could do. Or he could do to you, if he knew how. However, even if you weren’t dating Bokuto, he didn’t think he could ever get himself to say it. See, Hinata’s other issue was that he was a virgin. He knew it shouldn’t matter and that it was totally normal, but all his friends weren’t. Atsumu in particular loved reminding him of that fact. He discussed his numerous hook ups in such detail that Hinata thought he could probably use it as a how-to guide. 

Hinata knew if he really wanted to, he could probably find a girl to hook up with and just get it over with. However, he knew he was not into random hook ups. He wanted to do it with someone he knew and trusted. He’d tried to develop relationships with other girls, but he would just compare them to you and it just never worked out. Thus, he remained a virgin.

“I-I think I just need to lay down.” Hinata tried to stand up, but between his nerves and his buzz, he flopped back down on the couch, making you giggle.

“C’mere,” you pulled his head onto your lap. His heart was pounding and he knew he shouldn’t indulge in this, but your thighs were so soft he couldn’t tear himself away. He tried to not think about how close he was to a... um, certain body part of your and just closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair. Yeah, he definitely couldn't complain about this. “I think you drank too much.”

A laugh escaped Hinata’s lips, mostly out of relief. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” You were smiling sweetly down at him. Your lips looked so soft and he found himself wondering how they’d feel on his.

“Trying to make moves on my girl?” a familiar voice asked. Hinata shot up so quick, his head was spinning.

“No Bokuto I was ju-” The larger man cut him off with a laugh.

“I was just teasing you, Hinata.” There was a look shared between him and you that Hinata couldn’t quite decipher. “You seem pretty drunk, bud.” 

Hinata’s head was still spinning. Maybe he was a lot drunker than he thought. “I may have over done it.”

Bokuto laughed again. “Shame, we’ll have to give you your gift tomorrow.”

***

Tomorrow came and Hinata found himself in the passenger seat of Bokuto’s car. “So why do we have to go to y/n’s place for the gift?” He’s been to your apartment a few times and didn’t mind going. He liked that it how it smelled like you. However, he was a little nervous to see you again after yesterday’s close call.

Bokuto put the car in park outside your building, a strange smile on his face. “You’ll see.” 

Hinata followed Bokuto up to your apartment. You weren’t in the living room to greet them, which Hinata found strange. When he walked into your bedroom, he saw you, laying on your bed in a black lacy babydoll lingerie top and silky shorts. Hinata gasped his hands flying up to his eyes.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Hinata was mortified that he walked in on you dressed like that, clearly not expecting him. He was thoroughly confused when you both busted out laughing. 

“Hinata you don’t have to cover your eyes,” Bokuto said. Hinata didn’t budge, even though he really wanted to get another look at you.

“Is this some sorta test?”

“Really, it’s okay Hinata.” It was your voice that convinced him. He slowly lowered his hands, drinking in the sight of you. He had seen you in a more revealing bikini once at the beach, yet this was so much more arousing to him. He was thoroughly confused as to why you nor Bokuto were not upset, as well as nervous that they would see how much he was enjoying it.

“This is your gift,” Bokuto explained, gesturing to you.

Hinata’s eyes flickered between him and you. “I-I don't undersand.”

“I know you like y/n.”

Hinata’s eyes widened, his heart stuttered. “Did Sakusa tell you? I didn’t mean to-”

Bokuto laughed again, cutting him off. “He didn’t have to tell me. You weren’t exactly good at hiding it.” Hinata’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “But I get it. Look at her, she’s fucking hot.” Hinata took the excuse to look at you again. Yeah, you very fucking hot. “And I know you’ve been wanting to lose your virginity.”

“And there is nothing wrong with being a virgin,” you interjected, trying to soothe his embarrassment. “I was virgin, too, until I met Bokuto.” It did make Hinata feel better, since you didn’t meet Bokuto until college. Still, he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy he felt thinking of the two of you being intimate like that.

“Right, of course,” Bokuto nodded, “But if you wanted to lose your virginity, I figured we could get it out of your system like this.”

The shocked look on Hinata’s face made you giggle. “Come here.” You patted the spot next to you on the bed. Hinata’s body could not resist following your instructions. Somehow you looked even better up close. You cupped his flushed cheeks, thinking it was sweet how nervous he got around you. “Do you want to have sex with me Shoyo?”

Hinata nearly laughed at how absurd that question was. “I- yes I do, I just... I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” As much as he wanted you, he would feel icky and wrong if you were just doing it out of obligation for feeling bad for him.

“No, I want to Sho.” Your finger trailed down his torso, pausing at his waistband. Youur eyes flicked back up to his. “I think you’re really cute.” Hinata could have died in that moment and he would go out a happy man. 

“And you’re okay with this?” he turned to Bokuto again for confirmation.

Bokuto nodded. “We talked about it a lot and we trust you. I don’t have to stay for it if you don’t want, but I can if that would make you feel better.”

Hinata thought it over. Maybe it was weird, but he would feel better with Bokuto being there. Just in case he changed his mind, he could stop them. Hinata would feel better knowing there would be no lines crossed. “You can stay.” Bokuto nodded and took a seat in the chair across the room. 

“You won’t even know I’m here.” 

He felt your fingers on his jaw, turning his face back to you. “Can I kiss you?” Hinata nodded, not trusting his voice. His eye shut as you leaned in and next thing he knew he was kissing you. Your lips were even softer than he imagined. You kissed him soft and gently at first, letting him relax into you. You crawled into his lap, feeling his body stiffen. “Relax, Sho,” you breathed into his ear. 

Bokuto’s soft chuckle didn’t even register to Hinata. He was too preoccupied with he feeling of your body on top of his, the taste of your lips. You slid your hand over his, guiding them up to your boob. “Fuck,” he gasped, getting your boobs a squeeze through the lacy fabric. 

“You can touch me wherever you like,” you murmured into his neck. Hinata gave your boobs a few more squeezes, before letting his hands explore the rest of you. He was too nervous to touch you there yet, but he was loving the feel of your curves. You could already feel him hardening against your thigh.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, tossing it to the side. “So strong,” you noted, kissing down his chest, abs, waistband. Hinata’s stomach hitched as you looked up at him. You didn’t touch him below the waist, not yet at least. Instead, you kissed back up his body. You paused before reaching his lips, sitting back and pulling your top off.

Hinata’s dick twitched in his pants seeing you topless. “Wow,” was all he could manage. You giggled lightly. He really was the sweetest. Hinata didn’t need your to guide his hands this time; he happily played with your tits as you kissed him again. You gave an experiment rock of your hips, pulling a gasp from his lips. Smirking, you continued to grind against him, loving how he whined with every drag of your hips. “I-I’m gonna cum in my - fuck - p-pants if you keep doing that,” he stammered. 

This time both you and Bokuto laughed, sweet and lightheartedly. “Let’s get them off you then, yeah?” Hinata bit his lip nervously but nodded. You slid his shorts and boxers down in one go. His dick was flushed and leaking at the tip, looking achingly hard. He was larger than you thought, and not just for his size. “Mmm, so big Sho.” You stroked him up and down. 

Hinata was on cloud nine even as his pulse drummed in is ears. As you touched him, he couldn’t believe this wasn’t some sort of a dream. He was about to pinch himself when you asked if he wanted to take your bottoms off and then he decided if he was asleep he did not want to wake up right now.

Hinata’s hands were shaking slightly as he slid the shorts down your legs, revealing you fully to him. He let out a groan seeing you naked for the first time; it was better than he ever imagined and, yes, he had imagined it. You could feel his cock throb in your hand as he took in the sight of you. You took his hand and brought it between your thighs. “Feel how wet you made me.”

Hinata couldn’t believe how good it felt. He ran his fingers through your lips, getting comfortable with touching you. His head was spinning at the thought of being inside you.

“You seem a little nervous, Sho,” you pushed hair off his forehead. You knew he was trying to put on a brave face, but he looked a little like a deer in headlights, albeit a happy deer. “Why don’t we start a little slower?”

Hinata nodded, willing to follow whatever you wanted to do, but slow did sound pretty good. You let his cock lay flat against his lower torso, carefully lowering yourself down on him. The second your warm, wet pussy made contact with him a low groan escaped his lips. You rolled your hips slowly, letting him enjoy the new sensation. He already felt himself struggling to stay composed with you just sliding your pussy over his cock he couldn’t imagine how he would survive being inside you.

You placed your hands on Hinata’s strong chest to help you increase your pace. Hinata’s fingers dug into your hips, little curses escaping his lips. Each time your clit nudged against the head of his cock, waves of pleasure went through you. It felt so you good you forget yourself a bit, moving your hips even faster as you chased your high.

Hinata’s breath was ragged. “Shit I’m gonna- fuck!” His head fell back as he orgasmed, his cum spilling over his tummy. Once he came down from his high, his face and chest flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry I-I didn’t mean to cum so fa-”

You licked a stripe up his stomach, effectively shutting him up. You swallowed the release you collected on your tongue. “No need to apologize. You’re being such a good boy for me,” you purred. Hinata had a full body reaction to you calling him a good boy. You could feel him getting hard again as you lapped up his release. “Look at you already hard again for me. So hot, Sho.” Any embarrassment Hinata felt had dissipated, but still he wanted to prove himself.

“Can... can I be on top for it?” he asked.

You smiled. “You wanna fuck me?” Hinata blushed and nodded. Of course Hinata would not just lay there, it wasn’t in his nature even when he was nervous. He was always going to try pushing his limits. You traded places with him, feeling the weight of him on top of you. He wasn’t as heavy as Bokuto, obviously, but he was still nice and solid. 

“Hi,” Hinata said looking down at you, a nervous smile on his lips.

You giggled, “Hi Sho.”

“Do I need a condom or something?” You nodded to your bedside table, where he picked up the little metallic packet. He ripped it open, though struggled to get it on himself.

“Lemme.” You took him in your hand, slowly rolling the rubber down his length.

Hinata smiled shyly. “Thanks.” He lined himself up to you, feeling the heat of your pussy against the tip of his cock. He knew nothing was going to change really once he pushed into you, but still he nervous. He took one last deep breath before pushing inside you. “Oh fuck.”

Even after feeling your pussy on his fingers and on top of him, he couldn’t believe how wet and warm you were. How tight you were. He’s never felt anything like it in his life. The way your pussy squeezed him made his breath hitch. He rocked his hips slowly, wanting to adjust without accidentally humming too fast again. He was very afraid of that happening; he could already feel his balls getting heavy, aching for release.

“You feel so good, Sho,” you moaned. And you meant it, you weren’t just trying to make him feel good. He was a nice size, giving you a little stretch. His ass and thighs were strong from years of playing volleyball, making each thrust have weight to it. He loved the way you sounded moaning his name; he was motived to hear more sweet sounds from you.

“She likes when you play with her clit,” Bokuto offered. Hinata almost forgot his friend was there he was so tossed in you. He nodded and followed Bokuto’s instruction. He pressed his fingers to your clit, rubbing circles over it.

“Fuck, Shoyo, just like that,” you gasped. It took everything in him to not bust. He moved faster knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. Bokuto was loving watching you get worked up. It was hotter to see you get fucked by his friend than he thought it was going to be. He shifted in his seat as his pants started feeling tighter.

Suddenly you gasped and moaned his name. Your pussy squeezed him impossibly tighter as you came around him. Hinata couldn’t hold himself together anymore. He moaned you name as he came for the second time. He slowed his hips, milking every last bit of his orgasm. It was easily the best he ever had. He knew having sex would be different from jerking off, but he couldn't believe just how much better it felt to cum with someone.

“You’ve officially ruining jerking off for me,” Hinata said breathlessly. Both you and Boktuo laughed.

“You were so good, Sho,” you told him, “You made a girl cum your first time. Not many guys can do that.” Hinata was beaming; he could hear you talk about how good he was all day.

“So, pretty good birthday present, huh?” Bokuto teased.

Hinata nodded, “The best.”

“Y/n had so much fun with you, might just let you fuck her again.” With that, Hinata was sure that Bokuto was the best friend in the entire world.

[asksythe]

Is there any cultural significance or reasoning for Xiao Xingchen giving both his eyes to Song Lan, instead of just one?

I can certainly see there being plot and/or thematic reasons for it (like it makes a better parallel with Wei Wuxian who couldn’t give just half his golden core; it’s necessary for Xiao Xingchen to be completely blind for the Yi city tragedy to play out as it did; etc.) but I’m wondering if there is more to it then that.

Your insights on other bits of MDZS lore have been really interesting!

That’s a tough question. The short answer is: yes. It’s a cultural thing. 

The longer answer is that I’m not sure I can adequately answer your question... because I feel that I'm not qualified. It goes deep. This is reaching the DNA of Chinese culture and the value system itself. I would say it’s probably better if you read more Chinese classics or immerse yourself in the culture. This is one of those things that are immensely difficult to put into words. The best way is to experience it.    

But since you asked me, I’m going to at least give it a try. 

The reason that Xiao Xingchen gave both eyes to Song Lan and the true root of the Yi City tragedy includes three different cultural concepts: Jishi 济世 (the Chinese ideal of saving the world), Enyuan Yinguo 恩怨因果 (Karma and Karmic Debts), and the quest to find Dao 道 (truth). 

1/ Jishi 济世 

济世 Jishi is a Chinese term denoting a philosophical ideal pursued by certain classes or castes of people since ancient times in China. It means to sacrifice and save the world. It’s self-sacrificial heroism in the most ideal and purest sense of the concept, similar to our modern-day Doctors without Borders.   

This is Xiao Xingchen’s higher calling, his chosen purpose. Xiao Xingchen came down from Baoshan Sanren’s mountain at 17 years old with one purpose: to make the world a better place. He rejected no one who needed his help. He went out of his way to reject the invitations from the cultivator Houses to join their ranks and enjoy the wealth and privilege it might bring because he didn’t want to be distracted from a higher calling.

Using modern Western vernacular, Xiao Xingchen is a hero. That’s his religion and identity. That’s on top of a personality that already holds high self-responsibility. So is there any wonder he feels he’s responsible for Song Lan’s loss and must give Song Lan both eyes?  

2/ Enyuan Yinguo 恩怨因果

恩怨 En Yuan. Yuan is resentment, spite, hatred, grudge. But En is a lot harder to nail down in English. It’s commonly translated as favor, but ‘favor’ has none of the cultural weight and encoded social obligation of En. The pure meaning of En is ‘a good deed done from the heart.’ A kindness. A mercy. A gift. 

For example, Jiang Fengmian taking Wei Ying into Jiangshi is En. Wen Ning saving Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying is En. Wen Ning reclaiming Jiang Fengmian and Yu Furen’s corpses and artifacts is En. Big En, comparable rebirthing an entire household. Wen Ruohan teaching Zhao Zhuli (later on known as Wen Zhuliu) and granting him a chance to prove himself is also En. Nie Mingjue doing the same to Jin Guangyao is the same level of En (granting critical knowledge and opportunity to completely change one’s life). Jin Guangyao taking in Lan Xichen and hiding him from Wen pursuers before the Sunshot campaign is En.   

因果 Yinquo = Karmic Bonds, the fruits that bloom from the seeds one sow. It’s also understood as a link between people’s life. Our lives collide, intertwine, and diverge like threads on a tapestry. We are each bound to each other by the threads of Karma and our debt to each other. This is yinguo. 

There is a deep-seated belief in China that a person’s life is a ledger. To live is to constantly add to and take away from the ledger. When other people perform En for you, that means you take from their ledger and add to yours. When someone takes from your ledger, a yuan/grudge is born. From the moment you were born, you were granted the greatest of En, the gift of life from your parents.   

In Chinese culture, it’s believed that one must try one’s best to square the ledger. One must repay En and reclaim Yuan. Entangled Enyuan eventually leads to tangled Yinguo, and that’s just a big headache nobody wants because it directly impacts your afterlife, your next life, your descendants, and sometimes even your ancestors that are already dead. 

To strive your best to repay En is seen as a virtue. Of course, not everyone is capable or even wants to reach this ideal. Like when we say it’s good to be honest, but being truly and completely honest in daily life is… a task, shall we say. Sometimes, it’s very hard to truly repay what you owe. And sometimes, your Enyuan with a person or with a House is so entangled that it’s either hard to really say who owes who, or hard to admit to the fact that you are the one in the reds.  

You are seeing parallels between Xiao Xingchen and Wei Wuxian because they both embody this ideal to the extreme. Both would take it upon themselves to repay. Xiao Xingchen paid with his eyes. Wei Wuxian repaid Jiang Fengmian’s En by giving Jiang Cheng his jindan, helped Jiang Cheng rebuild Jiang Shi using Guidao (Path of the Dead), gave up all his war achievements for the rebuilding of Jiangshi and left Jiangshi without a penny to his name despite being a major contributor to victory, and then… repaid Wen Ning, Wen Qing’s En to Jiang Cheng and Jiangshi in Jiang Cheng’s place when the other didn’t.  

In some ways, you can say that both Xiao Xingchen and Wei Wuxian are flawed in that they underestimate their own value and well-being and overestimate what other people do for them. You can even say that they are foolish because they pay for En that isn’t theirs to pay, and that eventually leads to their suffering and death. But this is just the kind of people they are. They are true idealists who genuinely believe in a Truth greater than mortal squabbles. They are pure, uncorrupted Daoists, the kind that holds the founding precepts of Daoism in their heart.  

In the novel, there are many examples of different people and how they see Enyuan Yinguo and how much value they put in them. 

We have Su Se, who was saved by Wei Wuxian twice but didn’t even acknowledge it. Instead, he saw that as a Yuan because he probably hated the fact that it showed how weak and insignificant he was. Yet Jin Guangyao merely remembered his name and gave him some support to create his House, and he was willing to be Jin Guangyao’s attack dog, going so far as to abandon his own House members in Fuma Cave when Jin Guangyao’s plan failed and using his life to buy time for Jin Guangyao in Guanyin temple. 

We also have Jiang Cheng, who was well aware that he owed Wen Ning and Wen Qing, but didn’t want to acknowledge it because he was poisoned with trauma and hatred at the hands of Wen Chao and felt that because of his relationship with Wei Ying, he was entitled to Wen Ning’s En. And yet he is rational enough to understand that admitting to owing this ginormous En and not repaying it is a huge stigma on House Jiang, and so even when he answered Nie Mingjue, confirming that the Wen remnants did have En with him, he answered in such a way that downplayed the enormity of En. Answering truthfully would have exonerated Wei Wuxian and the Wen remnants because the laws regarding Enyuan are so foundational that no one could have blamed the Jiang for saving the Wen remnants. But answering truthfully would have been admitting to his owing the Wen, setting House Jiang against House Jin, and turning House Jiang into a target of ridicule for other Houses because such an En should have been paid long before Wei Wuxian had to take drastic measures and jailbroke the Wen remnants from Quiongqi Path.   

We also have Lan Xichen, who effectively compromised his entire House and compromised his own judgment because he saw Jin Guangyao as having granted him a huge En (which is not wrong, per se). 

And then we have Jin Guanyao, who killed both people who bestowed En on him (Wen Ruohan and Nie Mingjue both gave Jin Guangyao critical knowledge, opportunities, and elevated him above his station. And yet when it came to Lan Xichen, despite his effectively pushing the Lan to death in the second Burial Mound Siege, Jin Guangyao still acted like Lan Xichen was in the wrong for not paying Jin Guangyao’s En even more than he already had. 

Then finally, look at these Enyuan and consider the way it binds the various characters in both good and bad ways. 

So it’s a deeply embedded and very nuanced concept that manifests differently in different characters.  

3/ The Quest for Truth 道 Dao:

Dao/Tao 道: the truth, the path, the knowledge, the faith, the ideal, the natural order of the universe, that from which everything comes and that from which everything returns. 

What does Dao have to do with Xiao Xingchen? 

Well, because Xiao Xingchen is a Daoist. Remember when he reminded A-Quing to address him as Daozhang? That. 

He’s not the only Daoist in MDZS, either. The man who created Dao as a philosophy and spirituality, Laozi, is also the man who created the concept of cultivation in the first place. So every single cultivator in MDZS, indeed every single cultivator in xianxia genre, treads in Laozi’s footsteps, takes from his wisdom, and stands on his shoulders in their quest for heavens. 

The first sentence in Laozi’s definitive work on Dao, the Tao Te Ching, says: 

‘Dao that can be told is not Dao. Truth that can be named is not truth. Path that can be walked is not the right Path.’

The Tao Te Ching is a foundational Chinese Classic. It is the shortest but also the most complex and hard to understand. 

This first verse of the Tao Te Ching means: truth is not something that is fixed. Truth is nuanced. Knowledge is not something that can be given to you by words only. You must find this knowledge by yourself. Path is not something that anyone else can tell you. Your path must be walked by your own feet. Faith is not something that can given to you by someone else. You must find faith in yourself.  

So then, apply this sentence to Xiao Xingchen’s journey. Do you see it? Xiao Xingchen choosing Jishi is his journey to find and prove his Dao. Jishi is Xiao Xingchen’s Dao. 

Yi City is not a tragedy. Yi City is Xiao Xingchen’s tribulation and the unavoidable consequences of choosing to remain pure to the founding precepts of Dao while the rest of the cultivator Houses, including Nie and Lan, have long betrayed their origin. 

Even if, by some miracle, Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen never entangled with each other, there will always be a Xi City or a Zi City for Xiao Xingchen. Because it is a consequence and a price to pay to find the truth that he desires. And he did find that truth. Song Lan, who he had left in a decisive gesture of severing their Karmic Bond, returned and would likely spend decades if not centuries walking Xiao Xingchen’s path, waiting for the day Xiao Xingchen awoke. And A-Qing never left Xiao Xingchen, never gave up on him either. 

   

Ugghh, such a heavy topic. I usually don't like to write too much on such topics because... it's hard to write and it's hard to read, and most people don't really have the patience to read. But it is a question. So I tried. In any case, have this fanart I commissioned from Nguyen Linh.

[itsbubbleteataro]

hello! Saw your requests were open! If its cool can I request some headcanons (or whatever seems the best fit) with Sampo, Jing Yuan and Sunday finding their anxious! reader ( constant buzzing like a bee level anxiety) under multiple thick blankets (woth a weighted one onto as well) being all cozy, calm and sweet? Im talking the level where you can't tell there's a person untill they peek their head out. Reader finds the squish really comfy.

(Also just wanted to let you know that your pinned post has jun Yung listed under hsr. I just assumed it was Jing yuan but if not feel free to ignore him in my request)

thank you!

Dgejoaajwnebrhrwqknerbsjwjw thank you for catching my spelling mistake im so sorry!

Sure that sounds lovely! I can also say that I confidently relate to reader here as I too can be found typing away under a mound of blankets!

HSR headcannons!

Sampo with Anxious!Reader

Finds it strange at first but chalks it up to you hiding away from the cold

That was until he realized that you usually ended up under your mountain of blankets after situations that usually resulted with you feeling anxious

how did he find this out? Well he's Sampo, so he simply followed you home and looked through your window to find you under all your blankets

placing two and two together he figured out that you tend to always be buzzing with some kind of anxiety based off of how often you wind up under your blankets

one day you had invited him over, telling him to just let himself in

Overall I think he would find it adorable and just a tad concerning

Sampo's eyes drifted over to a mound of various colored blankets laying on a bed, his ears perking up once he hears a squeak coming from it. A smile crosses his face as he watches your head poke out from from the hoard of blankets. He can't help the laughter that fills the room as you give him a sheepish smile

Jing Yuan with Anxious!Reader

The first time he finds you under your pile of blankets is after a particularly rough meeting, one where you ended up agreeing on biting off more than you could chew

The second time he found you under your pile of blankets was after you went through quite a scare, turning in his and your paperwork just before they were due

The third time he finds you under the pile of blankets he ends up laying down next to you, however leaving you to the mass of blankets

With a lazy grin he asks what's bothering you this time, only to be pleasantly surprised to find that nothing was amiss and that you simply just enjoy laying under the mass of blankets

Can't say that he entirely understands but is just wanting to spend time with you

May not be happy about sharing your space with a mass of blankets, may push it off just so he can cuddle you

You and Jing Yuan had decided to play a game of go together. He looked up at you, your brow furrowed in concentration as you lay on your stomach. About twenty blankets lay on top of you including a few weighted ones. He can't help but smile as his golden orbs watch as you work hard to beat him while retaining the comfort that your mass of blankets bring

Sunday x Anxious!Reader

How strange is it to him that when you're not in the dream realm, your found under a mass of blankets, poking your head out of anyone wishes to speak

The first time he had found out about your love of blankets, you had shown him a new weighted blanket you were excited to buy

After that the two of you took to the dream realm, excitedly dragging him from blanket store to blanket store showing him the softest of ones

The loss of his sister hurts him in ways he can't express, so you decide to gift him a weighted blanket, hoping it may have the same effect on him as it does on you

I think Sunday would be glad that you tend to stay under all your blankets, ensuring him that you will remain safe as long as you are in the waking world

"Where are you dragging me this time?" Sunday asked, an annoyed look on his face though his tone betrayed him. You rush past the animated billboards trying to get your attention as you push the door open to a store. You excitedly show him a weighted blanket and his expression softens. He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair. "You really are fascinated by the strangest of things aren't you my dear?"

[ashcal99]

Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale IV

Chapter Four

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, violence, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn

Words: 7.4k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Hope you enjoy. Made this chapter extra long for the wait x

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——————

January 29th, 2005

Camila sat there, frozen in time, for what seemed like an eternity trying to process what Jasper had just admitted. So, Jasper sat there, unmoving as well as not breathing. He wasn’t sure how she was taking the new information and suddenly found himself wishing that he held Edward’s power in that moment, willing to give everything just to know the thoughts that were going through her mind. Second best, he knew that she, remarkably, held no fright towards the admission, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she lacked the simple instinct that humans should be born with. The instinct to run away screaming when someone tells you that they’re a monster and could easily kill you. 

At the end of the day, he knew that was what he was. A monster. He may have changed his diet and tried to appear human, but he was far from it. He had killed people. Innocent people. He couldn’t even make the argument that his family had done the same, because their body counts were minuscule compared to his. He had fed off of human blood for nearly eighty-five years before Alice had found him. Even with his new found vegetarianism considered, he still slipped up. More than anybody else, and even though he knew that Camila was safe around him, he also knew that she had every reason in the world to fear him, and it confused the hell out of him that she didn’t.

He couldn’t help himself as he spoke, the silence eating away at his resolve. “Can you please tell me what’s going through your mind?” He asked, nervousness gripping his throat as he croaked the words out. 

Camila’s eyes flashed over to him, eyebrows creased in… confusion maybe? “I don’t know… I feel like I know I shouldn’t believe you, but for some reason, I do?” She said, eyes tracing his serious expression. “Can you prove it? N-not the vampire thing, I guess, but something to prove any of it is true?” She asked. 

Jasper’s mind reeled for a moment trying to think of something quickly, when an idea popped into his head. “Remember how you said I’m really good at reading emotions? Like an empath?” He asked, waiting for her nod before continuing. “It’s a little more than that. Some of us, when we turn, we get… gifts. When I was changed I could not only feel people’s emotions like they were my own, but manipulate them too.” He explained slowly, trying to find the right words.

Given the situation, he figured this was his best bet in not freaking her out any further. Eyes scanning her face to make sure that she was okay with what he was about to do, he pushed a wave of happiness towards her. He watched as the corners of her lips curved upwards, the crease between her eyebrows smoothing as her heart filled with overwhelming joy. 

She didn’t know nor care why she had become so  suddenly happy, but as soon as the emotion was ripped back from her, the pieces clicked together. The smile slowly dropped from her face as her mind returned to where had been just moments before. “Holy shit.” She huffed out. He was telling the truth. As soon as the feeling of joy had hit her, it was gone. 

Her eyes widened suddenly. Maybe this was the explanation as to why she felt so strongly towards him. Maybe it was him all along, manipulating her feelings. “Y-you don’t do that to me often do you?” She asked nervously. 

Jasper shook his head quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. “No. I’ve never with you before.” He rushed out, hoping to whatever god that she would believe him.

Letting out a sigh, Camila let her shoulders drop as she let herself relax back into her seat. She had no reason to think he was lying. From what she could tell, all of her feelings and emotions involving him were genuine, no matter how much she wished that they weren’t there to begin with.

“So, is the whole thing about garlic true?” She asked trying to lighten the mood. Everything had suddenly gotten much too daunting.

Throwing his head back with a bark of laughter, Jasper ran his long thin fingers through his golden curls. How in the world was she taking all of this so well? The ball had to drop at some point, right? There’s no way that everything would go this smoothly. Surely after she learned about his past and how much of a monster he really was, surely then, she would run away screaming. But that admission would have to wait for another day, because in that moment, he would give anything keep Camila as far away from that part of him as possible.

——————

January 31st, 2005

The rest of her day with Jasper had flown by, and before Camila knew it, it was the start to her second week at Forks High School. After the exhaustion of her first week, and hanging out with Jasper on Saturday, the rest of her weekend consisted of sleep and cramming in the remainder of her homework. When Monday finally came around, she was well rested, at lest as well rested as she could be. 

Camila had just joined the end of the line in the cafeteria, Eric talking her ear off behind her once again, when her eyes finally met Jasper’s across the crowded room. She hadn’t seen him since he had dropped her back off at home Saturday night. Like a perfect gentleman, he had waited, car pulled against the curb and watched her figure until she had successfully made it fully inside her home, before he drove away. 

Now that her eyes had met his for the first time since she had been given the opportunity to fully, well mostly maybe, process his confession, she felt a weight leave her shoulders that she wasn’t even aware was there in the first place. The rest of their night on Saturday had consisted mostly of more light hearted conversation, so now that she had been given the time to think of more questions to ask him, she had began to grow anxious of waiting. 

She knew the questions would have to wait, however, but seeing his face, that alone, eased that stress and anxiety from her. Everything had happened so quickly that her mind didn’t know how to calculate what his confession actually meant, and over the remainder of the weekend her mind had time to wander. He was dangerous, that much was apparent, but somehow, she also knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. That she was safe with him. 

It felt almost like a fever dream, everything happening so quickly. They had only just met, but suddenly, she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so comfortable with another person. So comfortable with being vulnerable, and content with sharing with him what she had been so keen on keeping from everyone else. Clearly he felt the same, that much she could gather herself, given his blatant honesty with her. 

Eric’s voice broke her from her thoughts as he continued his ramble on about how their trip to La Push Beach had gone and how she ‘had to join them next time’. She had to stop herself from cringing, not looking forward to coming up with another excuse in the future. She turned to him, attempting to give a reassuring smile. She didn’t want to come off rude, especially with the wide grin that was stretched across his face. He was just trying to be friendly, and that’s what she wanted. So, even if his persistence slightly annoyed her, she was still happy to have him around. 

Chills ran up her spine as icy fingertips brushed lightly across her lower back, bringing goosebumps quickly to the surface of her skin. She knew who it was, of course, before she looked up, having already gotten used to the feel of his touch, but that didn’t stop the flutter of her heart as her eyes met Jasper’s once more. He had sensed her unease from across the room and had decided to come to her rescue. 

“Will you sit with us for lunch today?” He asked, giving her a quirked eyebrow as well as a small smile. Alice had been pestering him since his return on Saturday to spend more time with the girl. As usual, she would get what she wanted, she already knew that of course, but that didn’t stop her from reminding him at every chance she got. 

Jasper watched as the gears in her head began to turn, slowly processing his invitation, her heart sputtering at his touch. He couldn’t help his smile from growing bigger across his face, enjoying hearing the reaction he had on her heart. “S-sure.” She stuttered out, turning back to the lunch lady to pay for her tray of food. She sent a small wave and smile to the boy, Eric, and fell in stride by Jasper’s side, his hand ghosting the small of her back as he lead her to the table that held the remainder of his family. 

Eric stood for a moment, mouth agape as he stared at their retreating figures. What was it with the new girls and the Cullens? Why was that family suddenly so sociable after a year of barely speaking to anybody? From across the cafeteria, the two were beginning to attract the stares from the rest of her friend group, and when she finally made it to the table, Jasper pulling her chair out for her to take a seat, the majority of the overcrowded room was practically ogling them. A fact, in which was doing nothing to ease the anxiety that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

Setting her tray down, she slowly dropped into the hard plastic seat, shoulders tensing as she took in the perfect faces sat in front of her. Camila had of course met Alice the week previous, but she had yet to meet Jasper’s other siblings. She wasn’t sure if she should feel more or less comfortable meeting the pale strangers now that she knew their secret, but the fact was, she knew and nothing would change that now. 

Feeling waves of anxiety and stress radiate from Camila, he decided now would be a time to use his powers, one that he hoped she wouldn’t be mad at him for later. He hated seeing the worry in her eyes and knew that her stress was unnecessary, so he did what he could and pushed feelings of calmness and comfortability towards her as he settled into the seat next to her. 

As the anxiety lifted from her shoulders, a polite smile formed on Camila’s lips. Jasper cleared his throat from beside her, gaining the attention of his siblings. “Camila this is my family.” He gestured towards the group. “Alice you met already.” He said pointing to the pixie haired girl on the other side of Camila.

The whole family already knew of his admission, and given the circumstances he was more that content with their reactions. He hadn’t exactly known what to expect from the situation, never having dealt with anything like it before. Carlisle and Esme had been happy for him, and though this slightly unnerved him, he knew it came with good intentions. He knew what coming clean to Camila could mean for her future, for their future, but he still refused to get his hopes up. Her knowing and having the choice to ‘live’ on had no guarantee that she would make that decision, and as much as it pained him, he knew that he would never be able to make that choice for her. 

Alice’s teeth shown brightly as she smiled at the girl, squealing lightly as she pulled her into a tight hug. Camila’s eyes widened, the immortal girl’s antics still surprising her despite already being on the receiving end previously. Before she was given the time to process and reciprocate the hug, Alice had pulled away and had returned to her comfortable position in her seat. 

Alice was of course ecstatic, even though she had seen the whole thing happen already, because now she was free to develop their friendship. She had seen the whole thing play out and knew just how close she would grow to Camila, and like a child on Christmas morning, was practically bouncing with anticipation when he had arrived home Saturday night. 

Jasper continued, stopping to roll his eyes at his sister. “This is Emmet and Rosalie.” He said, gesturing to the couple sitting at the opposite side of the table. Emmet gave a ginormous half smile half smirk to the girl, while Rosalie attempted the give a polite smile as well.

Emmet was of course laid back about the whole thing, only giving him a little bit of shit for finally finding his mate. Rosalie was surprisingly at ease with the situation, unlike her feelings towards Bella. Of course, Jasper knew why. She had always resented her immortality, having her humanity ripped away from her the way that it had been, and she wouldn’t wish that on anybody else. He knew her calm demeanor had to do with the fact that, unlike her human life, Camila had no chance of growing old. No chance of starting a family.

His heart ached at this knowledge, knowing that he would give anything he could to see Camila age into her beauty. To see her grow and start her adult life. To see her get married and have children, even if he wasn’t the one to give her that future. Unfortunately, maybe because God or whatever higher power was cruel or had a sick twisted sense of humor, she had no hope for that life. 

It had been an unexpected punch to the gut to meet her mother. She was such a perfect reflection of her daughter that it was almost like he was glimpsing into that impossible future. He knew that this would be how Camila would look, given the chance. But she didn’t have that chance, and that was his best guess as to why Rosalie had refrained from giving him the same shit she had been giving Edward. 

“And this is Edward.” Jasper said finally, turning to look at displeased expression of his adopted brother.

Edward had seemed slightly bitter about the situation. He obviously knew the differences between the two girls, but couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous at which the ease Jasper came by with telling Camila the truth. He himself would never wish the future of immortality onto Bella, but only wished that he didn’t have to suppress his want for the girl. He knew it was best to stay as far away from Bella as possible, hence why he had been avoiding her to the best of his abilities, but his resolve was beginning to waver. 

Jasper didn’t have to deal with any of this, despite having his own struggles. Camila already knew the truth about them, and soon she would be making that decision on her own. Hell, he didn’t even have to worry about his thirst around the girl, a fact that he couldn’t help but be bitter about. Edward had always had what he considered decent self control with human blood, something that he couldn’t say the same for with Jasper, and the one person that it truly mattered for, he was at his lowest point with self control. It was cruel irony. 

Despite not being able to read Edward’s mind like he could his, Jasper could feel his emotions, and he could fill in the rest himself. He didn’t want any animosity between him and his brother, but he knew that whatever Edward was feeling wouldn’t stop him from growing closer to Camila, and definitely wouldn’t stop Alice from begging him to let her spend more time with her. So that was why he had decided it was time to introduce her. What better time and place to break the ice between Camila and the rest of his family than the controlled environment of a school cafeteria? He had thought, and now, seeing the slight glare on Edward’s face, he couldn’t decide whether or not that had been a bad decision on his part.

As thoughts of anger rushed through Jasper’s mind, Edwards eyes flickered over to his. Edward’s glare softened as he processed Jasper’s internal dialog. He knew that it wasn’t his fault and he knew that it wasn’t Camila’s, but he couldn’t help how he felt. He was jealous and he was finding it difficult to hide his emotions. His eyes flitted across Jasper’s face, neck, and arms. The scars littered across his skin were a reminder to not push things with him. The crescents, nearly invisible to the human eye, were a gigantic red flag to any vampire. Neon lights that flashed bright as a warning to everyone around him to stay back or else. Although he knew that his brother would never hurt him, he also knew not to start a fight, because it would most definitely be one he would lose.

Huffing in irritation, Edward pulled out his chair, rushing to leave the cafeteria. He could try all he wanted to be civil and not start a fight, but he wasn’t about to sit there and take this torture. Over time it would get easier for him to cope, but in that moment, the wound was fresh and he needed to be far from the reminder. 

Jasper sighed in annoyance, rolling his eyes once again as he let his defenses fall back down to their normal level. “Ignore him.” He muttered to the girl beside him, slinging his arm protectively around the back of her chair.

——————

“So what’s with you and Cullen?” Tyler blurted out suddenly. Camila’s head fell to look at her boots that thudded along the hallway towards their last class of the day. She could feel the blood rushing up to her cheeks and knew that it would do little to help her case if he saw the growing blush. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, feigning confusion. It was a matter of time before someone started the inevitable conversation given Jasper’s display in the cafeteria that day, but she had hoped she would have a bit more time to prepare herself. 

Tyler stuffed his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “Yeah, you two seemed… cozy today at lunch.” He muttered.

Camila raised her head, quirking an eyebrow at the dark skinned boy in stride beside her. “Cozy?” She asked, a hint of humor tinting her voice. Tyler was clearly bothered by this whole situation, a fact that she found humorous given the circumstance. From the fact that Tyler had asked her to prom just a few days previous, she could gather herself that he was most likely jealous of Jasper. Not that he had any reason to be. Camila had every intention to stick to her plan of staying single and as much as she was beginning to care for Jasper, she didn’t see that changing.

A scoff sounded from the boy by her side as he rolled his eyes at her teasing. “Yeah. Cozy. You sat with his family at lunch instead of us, and he was practically all over you.” He argued. 

Camila laughed lightly at his words. “He was not all over me.” She argued. In fact, like usual, she had been hyper aware of every touch from the pale immortal. As usual, he had shown to be very hesitant in touching her, only giving the slight graze of his fingertips along her covered back as he lead her to the table. She of course was also extremely aware of the arm that he had slung protectively around the back of her seat after Edward’s whole display, but he had been very precise in not letting his cold skin actually touch her in any way.

Tyler groaned frustratedly. “Whatever it was, I don’t like it.” He complained.

Camila’s eyebrows knitted together. What was it with people at this school being assholes to them? The Cullen’s kept to themselves, sure, but they were never anything but polite to anyone they came into contact with. At this point, all these little comments that everybody kept making were beginning to piss her off. “And why should you not liking it mean anything to me?” She asked incredulously. Sure, she wanted to make friends, and be nice, but she was starting to become defensive over Jasper and she wasn’t just going to stand there and take everybody’s bullshit. Because that’s what it was. Complete and utter bullshit.

Tyler’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to respond in that way, never seeing her angry before. “I mean, he’s kind of creepy isn’t he? I’m just trying to look out for you. He doesn’t seem… good.” He said trailing off towards the end as he took in the expression of anger growing more and more prevalent on her face.

She had to bite back a snide remark as she tried to process how she could respond without sounding like a total bitch. An awkward silence rung between the two teens before she decided that she didn’t really care anymore. If he was going to give unsolicited advice to her when he barely knew her then she would respond accordingly. “No offense Tyler, but I didn’t ask for your shitty advice. I’m a big girl, I can look out for myself, thanks.” She said finitely.

Pushing her aching legs to move her forward at a faster pace, she let out an internal sigh of relief as the door to her calculous class came into view. Lunch had gone well, all things considered. Despite Edward’s little display, the rest of Jasper’s family had welcomed her with open arms. While the conversation mostly consisted of small talk and them asking her questions about herself, she could tell that they were all genuinely nice people. 

Alice had invited her over for the following weekend, in which Camila had immediately agreed to without thinking. Now that she had been given the time to think about the implications of the invite, she realized that she would be meeting their adoptive mother and seeing Carlisle. While she knew Carlisle fairly well, given meeting him the week prior, she realized how nervous she was to meet Esme. Jasper had talked the woman up so highly, but she couldn’t help but feel her nerves eating away at her. She would be meeting his mother soon, ‘adopted’ or not and it was only natural to have that kind of reaction. 

Jasper, as usual, was already seated at their assigned table by the time she had arrived to the classroom. Camila flitted to the back of the room to her seat, letting her body drop into the confines of the cool plastic, as she let out a heavy sigh. 

“Are you okay?” Jasper asked, concern lacing his voice. It was normal for her be exhausted by the end of the school day, but he could also feel her anger and frustration. The feelings set off warning bells in his mind and he was immediately on alert to what had upset her. 

Camila rolled her eyes, raking her slim fingers through the long dark strands of her hair. “Tyler Crowley is an asshole.” She said simply, annoyance still evident on her face as she recalled their conversation that had just taken place moments ago. 

His eyes flickered over to where said boy had just entered the classroom, narrowing as he took in the sight. “What did he say?” He asked, immediately defensive over the girl. 

“He apparently has an issue with you and ‘just wants to look out for me’.” She said, yanking her workbook and and pencil case from her backpack and slamming them down on the desk.

Jasper’s shoulder’s drooped at her words as he hummed in reply. He couldn’t even be mad. What Tyler said was clearly justified, whether or not Camila had realized. She should be warned about him. Just because he didn’t thirst for her blood didn’t mean that he wasn’t a danger towards her. Didn’t mean that he couldn’t hurt her, even if it wasn’t intensional. Didn’t mean that he wasn’t a monster at the end of the day.

Hearing his near silent response, Camila turned her head to see him looking down slightly defeated, eyes refusing to meet her own. “Jasper.” She said, trying and failing to get him to look at her. “Jasper.” She repeated, grasping at his hand  that laid in a tight fist at his thigh. 

Electricity shot through her fingers as they brushed the marble skin of his clenched knuckles, but she pushed on. “Can you look at me, please?” She asked, her soft voice contrasting the anger that had filled it just moments ago. 

His amber eyes flickered up to meet hers. As much as he wanted to sulk in that moment, he wanted more to give her what she wanted. Her eyes softened as she saw the pain that filled his. They were always filled with pain, but this was different. More of an inner torment and seeing it made her chest ache. 

She turned his fist over in her palm, nudging the fingers apart so she could intertwine them with her own. “He’s full of shit, Jazz. I know you would never hurt me.” She said, voice softly ringing in his ears. 

The pain in his heart grew at her words. He didn’t deserve her. She was too perfect for his damned self and he knew it, but that didn’t stop him from being grateful that she was there. It didn’t stop him from selfishly wanting her. He pulled their intertwined fingers up to his lips were he laid a soft kiss on the back of her palm, thanking her for her kindness. Thanking her for her comfort. 

The touch of his chilled lips on her skin sent her heart into overdrive, and knowing that he could he hear his effect on her didn’t help the blush that was creeping onto her cheeks. She had expected him to drop her hold after that, but instead, their hands remained, bound together and laying gently in his lap. 

Class continued, the two working together on finishing the next page in their worksheet. Jasper of course could finish the work in less than a minute, but anything that gave him the excuse to talk to Camila he would gladly do. She sat there, eyebrows furrowed as she worked over a particularly difficult problem on the sheet. Normally, she would have no problem solving the equations, but today her mind was wandering too much. She sighed, giving up as she let her pencil clatter onto the chipped veneer of the desk.

“Do you want to come over to my house today?” She asked suddenly. Clearly seeing that she had caught him off guard, she continued. “I have more questions.” She clarified. 

Jasper groaned internally. As much as he would love to avoid the inevitable conversation, he also knew that it had to happen at some point. At least he would get to spend more time with her, a definite plus. “Sure, I can just drive us after class if you’d like.” He offered. Alice had told him to drive separately to school that day, and now it was clear why. He would have to thank her later. 

Camila nodded, pulling her flip phone from her bag and trying to discreetly type a quick text to her mother letting her know that Jasper would drive her home. Doing so was a bit difficult to do one handed, but she wasn’t about to take her other hand out of his grasp. 

The remainder of the class trudged on slowly to Camila’s dismay. Now that she knew that she would be able to ask all of the questions that had been racing through her mind, she couldn’t seem to clear her head of them. Finally, a bell rang shrilly throughout the class, signaling the end of the school day. An unspoken agreement stood between her and Jasper as they both proceeded to pack away their belongings without undoing the grip on each other’s hands. 

She wasn’t sure what the hand holding meant to him or even herself, but she didn’t exactly care. She already had to constantly remind herself of her promise to keep any romance at bay, but hand holding didn’t necessarily have to mean that. It was comforting, having his cold palm pressed against hers, and despite her internal screaming at herself that it was a bad idea, she didn’t want to pull away. So there they were, walking down the hallway, hand in hand, attracting even more stares than usual. 

Camila let out a sigh as they reached the parking lot, the cool air feeling nice on her feverish skin. Puffs of vapor swirled in front of her mouth as steady breaths of hot air left her parted lips. Jasper had to rip his eyes away from the sight to make sure that he was walking in the right direction. He needed to pull his shit together. Kissing her hand had been bad enough, but he had to stop himself from thinking too much about her lips. Her soft warm plump lips. Jesus Christ, STOP. 

He wished so badly in that moment that he could’ve kissed her. Regardless of the numerous bystanders. However, he knew that it wasn’t safe. He didn’t trust himself enough not to end up accidentally hurting her. He didn’t even know if she would’ve kissed him back for fuck’s sake. And here he was feeling like an absolute creep again. 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he pulled the passenger door of his car open for her. Reluctantly, she let loose of his grasp, immediately feeling an emptiness without it’s presence. She settled into the plush bucket seat, pulling her bag into her lap as he shut the door softly behind her. 

Flitting quickly, or as quick as seemed human, to the driver’s side, Jasper slid in and turned the key in the ignition. Shifting the car into reverse, he backed out of the parking spot and shifted back into drive as he sped out onto the street. He internally thanked his past self for buying a manual transmission before reaching over to grasp Camila’s hand once more. 

Camila let her hair fall in front of her face, hoping that the curtain of dark strands hid the smile that she couldn’t wipe away. For someone who was so adamant on not dating, she kept finding herself being giddy whenever he touched her. What was she a twelve year-old? He was just holding her hand, she shouldn’t feel like a swarm of butterflies was flying around in her stomach. 

The drive to Camila’s home hadn’t taken long, and by the time they arrived at the small house, he mother’s mini van was still absent from the driveway. She had replied earlier letting her know that she was going to go grocery shopping since she had time before she had to go to work, and Camila was happy to see that she hadn’t returned yet. One less awkward interaction with Jasper and her parents would always be a good thing. 

As they stepped through the threshold of the home, she found herself wishing she had cleaned her room. She hadn’t thought of the mess she had left behind before she had invited him over, albeit a small mess. Either way, she couldn’t help herself but try and hurriedly pick up the few pieces of clothing scattered around the room once they made it through the doorway. 

Once she was content with her ‘cleaning’ she shut the door softly behind her and plopped down on her mattress, the springs squeaking slightly in protest. Scooting backwards until her back met the wall, she patted the empty space beside her, gesturing for Jasper to join her. On one hand, she almost wanted to sit out on the couch in the living room, as it would probably seem less intimate that way, but she also didn’t want to be interrupted by her mother when she inevitably returned home from the store. So there they were sitting side by side awkwardly on her worn out used mattress and now she didn’t know how to start the conversation. 

Sensing her hesitation, Jasper spoke up. “So, you have questions.” He said, wanting to end the torture of waiting any longer. If she was going to run away screaming, he would rather it be sooner than later, because the anticipation was slowly eating away at him. 

Camila sucked in a breath. “How old are you?” She blurted out. Jasper groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. He should’ve expected her to jump right to the point, but, somehow, he hadn’t. “You said it was a conversation for another day. It’s another day now.” She reasoned.

“I know. I know.” He said with a sigh. “I’m just really old, Darlin’.” He said, hoping the nickname would distract her. It didn’t.

She scoffed. “That’s not an answer.” She said bluntly. 

Jasper closed his eyes, sucking in a breath as he braced for the impact of her reaction. “I’m a hundred and sixty-one.” He muttered lowly. Utter silence followed. 

Camila didn’t know what she expected, if the age he had given was younger or older than she had thought it would be, but hearing him say such a precise age made everything seem way more real. She couldn’t find the words to say in response, so instead, she reached over to grasp his hand once more, letting him know that she wasn’t disgusted like he had thought. 

“Will you tell me your story?” She asked, not being able to help her intrigue.

His bright gold eyes met her emerald irises. “It’s kind of gruesome.” He warned, trying his best to prolong the inevitable admission of his past, but knowing that it was just that. Inevitable.

“I want to know.” She said simply. “If you’re willing to tell me.” She clarified. 

Jasper was fucked and he knew it. Anything that she wanted, he would give her in a heartbeat, but she would hate him after this. “I didn't have quite the same upbringing as my adopted siblings.” He said, reaching his free hand over reluctantly, to roll up the sleeve on the arm that she held. 

She wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed them before, but there they were. Hundreds of crescent shaped scars shimmering lightly in the dim lighting emitted from her ceiling fan. Now that she knew what to look for, she could see the scars were scattered across every piece of visible skin. Down his arms, onto the hand that was holding hers, a few up his neck to his handsome face. “Are those… bites?” She asked incredulously.

“Battle scars.” He responded, a small smirk gracing his lips. “I was seventeen when I joined the Confederate Army.” He said, pausing when he saw her grimace. “I know. I wish I could say that I didn’t know what I was fighting for, or against, but I knew enough. I’m not proud of it.” He said hanging is head in shame. 

“I was the youngest major in the Texas cavalry. All without having seen any real battle.” He continued.

Camila perked up. “I knew that was a Texas accent.” She said smirking at him, gaining a small smile in repose. Leave it to her to try and lighten the mood as soon as it gets dark.

Still, he pushed on, knowing that it was about to become a much darker conversation. “I was riding back to Galveston...after evacuating a column of women and children. When I saw her.” He said dauntingly. “I immediately offered her my aid.” He continued.

“Maria was creating an army. A newborn vampire army.” He clarified. “Our kind are at their strongest in their first year after changing. Their human blood still lingers in their veins and gives them more speed and strength.” He explained.

“Newborn armies were very common in the South, and cost a brutal battles for territory.” He continued, losing himself in the story. “Maria won them all. She was smart, careful. And she had me. I was the second in command. My abilities to control emotions served her well.” He said, looking down to the warm hand he still had clutched in his own, trying to find comfort in her touch. 

“I trained her newborns. An endless occupation since she never let them live beyond their first year.” He said, cringing from the memory. “It was my job to dispose of them.” He said, voice thick with emotion. It pained him to remember what he had done. To remember their pain. “I could feel everything they felt.”

The crease between Camila’s brows deepened. It clearly hurt for him to recall these memories, and she found herself wishing that she could take that pain away. 

“I thought what Maria and I had was love. But I was her puppet. She pulled the strings. I didn't know there was another way. Until I found Alice in 1948. Now she'd seen me coming, of course.” He paused, remembering that this would wouldn’t make much sense to Camila. 

He gathered his thoughts quickly, trying explain the best he could. “She has visions, of possible futures. They change when decisions are made, but she knew when and where to find me.” He smiled slightly. “She saw you, even though she conveniently didn’t warn me.” He explained.

“I don't know what I'd have become without her. I’d done horrible, unspeakable things, and she helped me get past that. My family choses to feed off of animal blood rather than human blood, but it wasn’t always like that for me. I’ve killed innocent people. I’m not a… good person.” He ended his story with a sigh, unsure of how she was feeling. 

Her mind was filled with conflicting emotions that he couldn’t quite place all together. “I completely understand if you want me to leave.” He said, moving to pull his hand away from hers. 

Her grip tightened as her eyes shot up to his. “No, stay. Please.” She muttered. She knew how her reaction must seem. In truth, she had almost expected worse. As bad as his story was, at least he didn’t actively kill people. It was a horrible argument, she knew, but after being given the rest of the weekend to let her mind wander, she had tried to prepare herself for the worst. 

Her silence was agony and he couldn’t help himself when he asked. “Can you please tell me what you’re thinking?”

Camila sighed, bringing her eyes back to his. “I’m not going to sit here and act like what you did wasn’t wrong, because it was. But I’m also not going to actively try and make you feel any worse for it. You’ve had over fifty years to regret what you did, and you clearly do. I’m not going to judge you for something that you wish you could’ve changed, not when I know you’re a good person now.” She said. 

Jasper shook his head in disbelief. How was she this forgiving? It seemed impossible. He was sure she would be disgusted with him, but here she was forgiving him for something he couldn’t even forgive himself for. “How are you not terrified of me?” He asked.

She looked deep into his eyes as she answered. “I’m not scared because I know you won’t do anything to hurt me.” She said simply.

“I could hurt you on accident. Very easily.” He argued, looking ashamed. “I could crush you just by hugging you too tightly. I know you don’t understand fully, but it would be so easy that I actively have to try and not hurt you.” He said, a deep frown on his face.

Camila’s eyebrows furrowed as she brought her free hand down to trace the crescent shaped scars that littered his arm. “I don’t know what to tell you. I trust you, that’s the best answer I can give you, Jasper. You need to try and have trust in yourself.” She answered.

Jasper shook his head, baffled that she had so much trust in him to begin with. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve her. Seeing the sadness still in his eyes, she rushed, trying to find a change of topic to lighten the mood from the darkness that it had reached. “So, if you can manipulate emotions and Alice sees visions of the future, does anyone else in your family have a ‘gift’.” She asked, curiosity peaking once again. 

Jasper was thankful for the change of topic, already feeling himself beginning to spiral from the continuous self hatred. “Yeah, Edward is the only other one in our family. He can, um, read minds… I know it sounds ridiculous.” He said, slightly humiliated at how fictional everything sounded. 

“Oh god. That’s… embarrassing.” She muttered, her mind beginning to wander. Edward had no doubt read her mind and heard her thoughts of Jasper. Those were thoughts she didn’t even want to admit to herself and now he definitely had knew all about them. 

Suddenly her mind went to his exit at lunch. Was that why he had left? Was it something she had thought that had set him off? “What happened with him at lunch today?” She asked.

Rolling his eyes at the memory, Jasper tried to form the most comprehensible explanation. “He’s jealous that I can tell you the truth and he can’t tell Bella.” He said simply. 

“Bella Swan?” Camila asked.

Jasper nodded. “He… has a particular interest in her. He’s been trying to avoid her because he knows that it won’t end well, and he’s jealous that I don’t have to do the same with you.” He explained. 

“Why is it different with me?” She asked, trying to ignore the implication that Jasper had an interest in her.

His eyes trailed across the bare walls of her bedroom, looking anywhere but at her as he continued. “He has a really hard time with the scent of her blood, while yours is different for me.” He said.

“Because of the leukemia?” She asked.

Jasper nodded again. “It’s more dangerous for her than it is for you because of that. It’s hard for him to even be in the same room as her. Either way it would end badly.” He explained.

“End badly how? Surely it could end in more ways than just him killing her right?” She asked. She knew the subject had to be touchy and sensitive, but she couldn’t keep herself from asking.

Here it was. The scariest topic of them all. If he didn’t handle this just right, if he didn’t use the right words, then there went his chance of a future with her. He gulped, mustering the courage to speak. “He could kill her or he could change her. Both which he doesn’t want to do.” 

Camila’s eyed widened. She hadn’t even thought of that. Changing into a vampire. She wasn’t sure why her mind hadn’t gone there, but she hadn’t even considered that a possibility. She couldn’t help it when her mind wandered to what this could mean for her. He had said it like he was trying to imply something else entirely. He had to know the possible endings. Surely Alice had seen. 

“Are there more possible endings for me? Futures where I don’t die from the leukemia?” She asked. She had to know. She had spent a year coming to terms with the fact that her life would be cut short, but now she wasn’t sure. She knew that her illness would in no doubt end up taking her human life, but what if she turned. What if she changed into something else where the cancer didn’t effect her anymore? What if she wasn’t human anymore? She had to know, because suddenly, after a year of withering away, she might have another option. She might have hope.

Jasper turned his eyes back to hers. This was the make it or break it moment. He sucked in a breath, feeling a tightness in his chest regardless of the fact that he didn’t need the oxygen. 

And he spoke. “Yes… Alice has seen it."

Next Chapter

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[milliesfishes]

Hi!!! I love ur writing! I was wondering if u could write when for some reason reader and billy break up but maybe its a misunderstanding or he did something but they break up but end up getting back together? No rush!!

you and billy break up (then get back together) fem reader x billy the kid warning: reader has loss of appetite/has a hard time eating for a period of time

Billy knew that it was hard to be with him.

He knew that being the sweetheart of an outlaw had more than its fair share of difficulties. People talked about such a sweet girl being with such a hardened man, and it took a toll on you. You weren't ashamed to be seen with him in public, but he was always keeping an eye out, wary of the judgmental stares and not so subtle whispers.

Because he knew he didn't deserve you. You were such an angel to him, a sweetheart in every sense of the word. So, he doted on you, spoiled you the best he could. With kisses, cuddles, sweet words, little gifts he'd bring you from the places he came and went. Because he loved you, more than anything. And he was overly concerned with what he thought you needed to have.

Which is why he'd come to the conclusion he was at now, standing in front of you in a dimly lit barn, hat literally in hand.

You were crying, your eyes hopeless as you looked up at him. He felt awful seeing you like this, felt awful that he'd made you cry when you hadn't even done anything wrong.

"I’m sorry baby,” he whispered, his expression somber.

“Why?” you asked quietly, tears pouring down your cheeks. “What happened…what did I do-“

“Nothing.” He cut you off, dropping his hat and going to you. His hands came to your cheeks. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. You’re perfect, angel.”

“Then why?” Your words were pathetic in tone, desperate.

He sighed, looking down at you sadly. “I ain’t no good for ya darlin’.”

“I don’t care,” you pleaded, holding his wrists. “I love you. I don’t wanna live without you.”

“Baby…” he tilted his head, eyes somber. “I love ya too. Love ya more than my guns. But I can’t do this to ya…’s hard on ya.”

“No it’s not,” you insisted.

“Ya don’t know what you’re sayin’ darlin’,” he shook his head, the weight of all he’d seen in his voice. “One ‘o these days they’re gonna find me ‘n string me up by the neck from the nearest tree. Your heart’s too pure. Can’t put ya through that.”

“There’s no guarantee of that,” you pleaded, tugging on his shirt. “Billy.”

“Sweetheart…” he shook his head firmly and you could see he wasn’t budging.

And so you dissolved into tears.

“‘M sorry baby…’m so sorry,” he brought you to his chest, pressing your face to his chest. “Baby.”

You shook your head, pulling away from his arms, not wanting him to comfort you, not wanting him to see you like this. “Do-on’t.” Your voice broke in the middle of the word, collapsing in a sob.

Billy looked helpless. “Sweetheart?”

You shook your head, turning your back, folding your arms around yourself and whispering, “Just go.”

He felt a little stab in his chest. Unable to do anything else, he nodded, picking up his hat. Before he shut the door behind him, he said, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

And then he was gone.

You pined for him. The only thing you could think of was Billy. Your mood was noticed by your father, who was confused at it. You were usually so happy and vibrant. He didn’t know you’d been seeing Billy of course, or anything that had transpired between you two.

After about three weeks of this, your father sent you out with a few of your friends. He gave you a little money, telling you to get something nice. You knew he was trying to make you smile, so you did, albeit a little sadly.

Your friends were lively, chattering eagerly as they walked arm in arm with you. They were trying to cheer you up, you knew, but you remained solemn, forcing smiles to make them feel better.

They went inside a shop, and you lingered outside, hoping they wouldn’t notice. Luckily for you, they didn’t, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You leaned against the wall, your head resting against the wood as you looked out at the square. It was bustling as usual, with people coming and going all over the place. You were numb to the energy of it all, a cloudy haze coming over you as you simply watched.

In the three weeks since he'd ended things you hadn't heard a wink from him. You'd avoided town as not to see him, and all but barricaded yourself in your bedroom. You figured the distance would make it easier, but in truth it only made you miss him more.

You didn't sleep. You were hardly eating. It was a miserable existence, missing him.

Looking back at the shop door, you wondered what on earth was taking your friends so long. Or maybe they'd only been in a few minutes. Time was irrelevant to you these days.

"Darlin'?"

Your head turned, and there he was. Tall dark and handsome. Gun at his hip. He looked concerned, but you'd grown so used to that look on people's faces that you hardly batted an eye.

"Billy." You offered him a tired smile.

He looked just short of stunned. You knew you didn't look well, but by the look on his face you would have guessed you were close to death. "Ya doin' okay?"

Shrugging unhelpfully, you said, "Fine."

Billy raised an eyebrow. "Ya look a long way from fine, pretty."

You pursed your lips and shook your head tiredly. "I don't know what you want me to say." Reaching your hand up, your fingers found the end of your hair, pulled into a loose braid. "It's been hard."

"'S been hard f'me too," he said softly, looking as though he wanted to reach for you. "Sweetheart...I'm gonna ask ya 'gain 'n this time you're gonna be straight with me. Are ya doin' okay?"

It was no feat to see that you weren't, but you felt as though he could see the extent of it. He'd always been able to see you so clearly. Billy had only said a few words to you for the first time in weeks, and yet his presence disarmed you. You bit your bottom lip, not wanting to cry in front of him. You'd already done so much crying. So instead of speaking, you simply shook your head.

"Thought so," he said gruffly, moving closer to you. He lifted your chin to look into your eyes, studying your face. "You been eatin' at all honey? Sleepin'?"

Your silence told him everything he needed to know. Instead of waiting for a verbal answer, he nodded and held out his other hand. "C'mon, we're gonna go get ya somethin' to eat."

"No," you shook your head, drawing back from him. "It's okay Billy. I don't..." You didn't want to be a burden. For some reason it embarrassed you, having to be taken care of like a child. Having to be coaxed to eat. It all made you feel unexplainably guilty.

Billy knew his girl, knew you well enough to understand you didn't want to be coddled. At least, not right now. So instead, he kept his hand held out for you. "Why don't we go for a walk, hm? Just you and me."

You hesitated, looking at his hand. It was tempting. You'd missed him so much. On the other hand, he was the one who'd hurt you. Besides, "I can't leave my friends."

"I'll have ya back soon. It'll be alright," he reassured you.

When you looked up at him, his eyes were so earnest, so caring. He nodded, giving you a small smile of encouragement and flexing his hand.

So, you took his hand, and let him guide you. He kissed your fingers, and the two of you walked side by side outside of town. You knew where he was taking you- your special place for when you were feeling overwhelmed or upset. It was the top of a hill, where a tree growing peaches sprouted tall and wide.

Billy sat you down, and set himself beside you, leaning against the trunk. His hand was still holding yours. He looked over at you, just watching you for a moment. Then he ventured to speak. "How've ya been?"

You knew you couldn't lie to him. "It's been really hard," you whispered, looking at the ground.

His brows were knitted, eyes soft as he looked at you like you were disappearing. "You haven't been eatin', have ya?"

Shaking your head, you refused to look at him. Though your appetite had disappeared not of your own volition, you still felt ashamed.

"We gotta get ya somethin'," he squeezed your hand. "Can't have ya wastin' away."

"I can't," you nearly choked out. "I haven't been hungry for so long."

Billy exhaled softly, nodding. Then he looked up at the tree, at the heavy fruit hanging from the branches. "Could ya eat one of these, honey?"

You shrugged hopelessly. He stood up briefly, picking a peach from a low branch. Sitting down beside you, he held it out. "Try it."

The peach was perfect; plump and round and rosy. Any other time it would have tempted you, but you could only stare at it now, willing yourself to want it.

Seeing that you weren't going to just eat it on your own, Billy took a bite himself. "We'll share it. Just try a bite f' me, yeah? It's good."

You looked from him to the peach, your mind running. Maybe just a bite wouldn't hurt? So hesitantly, you took the peach and held it up, looking at him again.

He nodded, giving you a smile. "Go on pretty."

Your teeth sunk into the peach; the juice sweet on your tongue. The fuzzy skin was a comforting texture, and you swallowed your bite. Almost as soon as you did, your stomach growled lightly, accepting the bite and wanting more. Your eyes filled with tears, and one slipped down your cheek.

Immediately, Billy gathered you in his arms, hugging you close and kissing your hair. "Atta girl...ya did so good...know that was hard...'m so proud of ya..."

You turned in his arms, burrowing into his chest, where you knew it was safe. You'd missed everything about this, missed everything about him.

He rocked you back and forth. "Ya think ya can do another for me? Just a little bite?" Billy took the peach from you and took his own bite.

Nodding, you sat up and did as he asked. The two of you passed the peach back and forth, until there was nothing, but a pit left. You stayed in his arms long after you were done, just savoring the feeling of his arms around you.

He kissed your forehead, arms around your collarbone holding you against his chest. You whispered, "I missed you so bad."

"I know," he breathed, his cheek on the top of your head. "Missed ya too."

The truth of that statement hung in the air. You were both miserable without each other. And you knew he wanted you back, but his thoughts about himself were holding him back.

"I don't care if you think you're going to hurt me," you turned a little to look at him. "You're not a bad man."

He shook his head, exasperated. "Baby-"

"Would a bad man be holding me?" you asked, cutting him off before he could say what you knew he was going to say. "Would a bad man have cared that I haven't eaten or slept very much?"

Billy was quiet, just looking down at you. Finally, he said, "Guess not."

"No. A bad man wouldn't," you said quietly.

He sighed, shaking his head, but a tiny smile found its way to his lips. "You're a stubborn girl."

"I wish you wouldn't make me be," you countered, and he laughed lightly. Then your face turned serious. "Don't you ever do what you did again. I missed you so bad...it was like I couldn't breathe."

"I'm sorry angel," he said softly, his hand finding its way to your hair. "Second I left I knew I shouldn'ta done it. Been hurtin' too. Need my baby."

You nodded, turning in his arms so your stomachs were pressed together, your arms wrapping around him. He cuddled you close, holding you late into the afternoon. Right then he knew leaving you would hurt you worse than anything he thought he'd bring your way. So right then he vowed to focus on what he had control over. He couldn't manage whether or not a bounty was on his head, but he could choose to keep you close.

[emeritusemeritus]

Turn back the hands of time. [Weasley twins x Reader]

Title: Turn back the hands of time.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader, (George Weasley x Reader later)

Timeline: Set six months after Fred’s Death.

Summary: What if you got the gift of time just to relive a moment with your deceased beloved one more time?

Warnings: Fred does the big sleep. Death. Grief, tears, emotional trauma. Use of a time turner (setting my own rules here). Mentions of marriage and kids. So much pain. McGonagall being a queen. Reader is implied Gryffindor.

I apologise, this one hurts. 🥀

The six months that had passed since the love of your life died had been the most intolerable, excruciating months of your life. Nothing brought you comfort anymore; every single thing in your life was attached to memories of him, bittersweet and painful memories you were forced to relive each and everyday by simply existing. Each day from the second you woke you were reminded of the painful fact that you had to carry on living whilst he couldn't. There was no future for you anymore, no more dreams of small weddings and long honeymoons, no blessings of little ones or fantasies of being an author, holed up in a small little cabin hidden away in the forest like you'd always planned with Fred.

He would aparate into the shop each day and you would have a home office with a big, fancy writing desk placed directly in front of a large window to view the scenery around you as you wrote. After closing the shop and settling up for the night, Fred would return home and you'd cook together, spending evenings on the decking under twinkling lights as you appreciated your simple life. You'd had it all planned out in fine detail, the future you were no longer destined to have.

George was naturally devastated too, utterly broken by the loss of his twin brother. You two, being the closest people to Fred, had found just a smidge of comfort in each other initially but over time Fred's loss had built a wedge between you both, each of you only serving as a reminder of what you had both lost.

You'd not only lost your soulmate but also your best friend along the way and the family that had taken you in and loved you as one of their own.

You'd pulled away from them all the same week of Fred's funeral, finding it unfathomably hard to be around them all, the missing piece constantly highlighted in the sea of familiar red hair. 

A good day for you these days meant accomplishing something as mundane as showering or eating some sort of meal. You knew you'd lost weight, the clothes you always wore hung off your body now the same way Fred's clothes used to. But you couldn't seem to stomach anything, the lingering pain and grief creating a sickness in you that couldn't be soothed.

The pain never truly ever left you but it did come in waves. Most the time is was like a background noise, a constant humming that ran through you like a curse but sometimes it was panic inducing pain, taking away your ability to breathe and function as haunting sobs wracked your body until you were crippled with agony, regret and hopeless longing.

You'd had a good day, as far as they went, managing to crawl out of bed and into the shower before trying to distract yourself with some muggle tv when a simple letter, delivered by owl, took your breath away once more.

Dear y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well, my thoughts have been with you each and every day since the battle. In Dumbledore's honour, we are conducting a memorial for the fallen and I would like to personally invite you to celebrate in the life of the loved ones we have lost. Fred's life will be celebrated by his staff, friends, family and fellow students as we pay respect to their bravery and sacrifice.

I would be honoured if you would join us.

With profound sympathy,

Minerva Mcgonagall.

You couldn't breathe again, tears streaming down your face as you read the letter through misty eyes, having to blink away the tears constantly to refocus your vision.

You didn't want to go. Your initial instinct was to burn the letter and hide from it, isolating yourself further and further until no one of your past life could ever find you again, lest contact you by owl. But you couldn't do that to Fred. He deserved everyone he loved and that loved him to celebrate his life, to tell stories of his triumphs and notorious endeavours in his time at Hogwarts. You couldn't be selfish this time, not for your Fred.

——

As you stepped into the all too familiar castle alone, you felt a dichotomy of feelings barrage you all at once. This had been your home since you were 11 years old, the place where you finally had a sense of belonging, where your best memories had been made, the place that you had met and fell in love with Fred Weasley and the place he'd died.

The castle had undergone extensive repairs and looked better than ever since the destruction from the war. Walking through the halls you felt both soothed and conflicted, the trembling of your hands never once leaving as you anticipated seeing everyone again.

"Y/n/n?" A familiar voice called from behind you, making your eyes close momentarily from the pain in their voice. You turned to see Ginny stood there, staring at you with a worried look on her face. She looked well, pretty, in sharp contrast to you.

"How?" She began to say as she walked towards you, thinking better of the statement before throwing her arms around you, "I'm so glad you're here."

You hummed a reply, already feeling an invisible weight tugging at you as you held your friend, the sister in law you'd once anticipated.

"Everyone's through here," she says, taking you by the hand as she led you towards the great hall, before you could protest. Your stomach roiled with nerves as you tried to keep your eyes down, not ready to see everyone again.

"Y/n?" A voice called out, the tone of shock and worry so intricately laced in the maternal tone it was hard to hear it. Molly. You raised your eyes just in time to see her move quickly towards you and embrace you tightly, the all too familiar smell of her and their home encasing you entirely. You bit your lip hard to stop the tears from falling, already succumbing to your overwhelming emotions as hard as you tried to deny them. Each Weasley took the time to give you a warm hug, even Arthur who had cradled you in his arms surprisingly tight.

When the last hug didn't come, you looked up with tear stricken eyes towards the body that had made no effort to walk towards you, George. He looked just as haunted as you, tired and frail as he looked upon you with sad eyes, tears silently falling down his face. You stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how to proceed until your lip quivered and a small sob escaped you. George rushed forward and pulled you straight into his chest, neither of you caring about the tears and sobs that fell from you both, too fixed upon each other to give a single care about the onlookers.

"I'm so sorry," you both said at exactly the same time, earning a little chuckle from you both at the ridiculousness of it all.

You and George never left each others side the entire  time, clutching hold of each other's hand as you navigated the painful memories and eulogies, each giving a squeeze intermittently to let the other know that you were still there.

Mcgonagall had called you away some time before the official memorial had began, walking with you towards the office she now held that was once Dumbledore's. George had reluctantly dropped your hand with a quiet, frantic whisper that you'd better be back soon.

"It's good to see you y/n," she says, gesturing for you to step towards the desk. You'd always felt a kinship with you previous head of house, both of you having a flair for transfiguration and underneath the sometimes harsh exterior, she had a wicked sense of humour.

"You too professor," you replied, trying to force an honest smile onto your face, not having used those muscles in months.

"Oh professor," she laughs, "call me Minerva," you says, scandalised at the notion of you calling her professor. You smiled warmly, this time not having to force the smile, feeling surprisingly comforted by her.

"You know, I always knew you and Mr Weasley would become an item, right from the day he turned your water goblet into a rock," she smiled, taking her seat as she gazed up at you fondly, "I am so sorry for your loss."

You chuckled at the memory, for once not feeling complete anguish at the thoughts of you and Fred. It was your first transfiguration class and you'd been tasked with turning your pets into water goblets as every first year is expected to do. You'd succeeded first try and Fred had then turned said water goblet into a small rock before your very eyes. To his surprise you had barked out a laugh instead of cursing him out for the ridiculous prank and you'd been firm friends with both the twins ever since. Only in your third year did you begin to catch real feelings for him and by your fourth year you were completely smitten. Before fifth year began, just before the Weasley's trip to Egypt, you were officially dating, finally saying I love you and the rest was history, never parting from each other once you'd found your person. You'd attended the yule ball together, been hand in hand for every task, even as the twins gambled their way through the games. You'd spent hours upon hours inventing, perfecting and packaging their inventions with them and had been been included every step of the way in designing and opening the store. You smiled in pure nostalgia as Mcgonagall's comment triggers a pool of memories for you.

"I've never told anyone this, except for Albus, but when I was a young woman, I lost the love of my life too," she says, bringing you back to the present. You look at her with a sympathetic look though with wide eyes, shocked by her revelation. "He didn't die so it's not exactly the same but he might as well have." Her eyes begin to cloud over as you can see painful memories coming to the forefront of her mind.

"I was a much younger woman then, having graduated from Hogwarts and securing a position in the ministry, the department of magical law enforcement. Before I left for London, I returned home and met a local farm boy, a muggle. Fred Weasley reminded me a great deal of him, perhaps that's why his passing has been so hard for me aswell. He was handsome, clever and so terribly quick witted he even gave me a run my money".

You huffed out a little laugh, knowing how fierce and funny she could be underneath the professional exterior. She sent you a warm smile as you listened intently to her story.

"He proposed not long after our whirlwind summer, right in the middle of a ploughed field owned by his father. I didn't hesitate for a second and said yes straight away, blindsided by love. After I'd accepted, I realised that the future I would be creating for myself would cut me off from the Wizarding world completely, just as my mother had when she married my father. I realised I couldn't live a life the only place I felt like I belonged, having to lock my wand away for ever, unhappily drifting through a life in which I'd rejected the gift I'd been given. Three days later I left for London alone though I never stopped loving Dougal."

"What happened to him?" You asked quietly, not wanting to upset her. She sighed in return, looking down at the desk.

"My mother informed me years later that he married the daughter of another farm owner in Caithness, I never heard anything else after that."

"I'm so sorry Minerva," you said honestly, feeling a tightness in your chest at hearing her story. Truthfully it had been your own form of distraction from your own pain and you were immensely thankful for that.

She sent you a sad smile, nodding her head gently as she looked up at you.

"You're probably wondering why I told you all of this," she says with a smile. Before you can protest, she raises her hand warmly like a mother would and smiled, "I have two points to sharing this personal story with you. The first, is that time truly does heal wounds. You may feel as if you will never be rid of this pain, not knowing how to go on or feeling as if you don't want to, and that my dear is perfectly understandable but every month will get easier, every year you will begin to feel less pain and more pleasant nostalgia until you find a version of yourself that had bloomed from the pain."

Your eyes had filled with tears again at her kind words. Something in her tone made you truly believe that this was true and that you did have a chance of healing eventually, but nothing was comforting enough to immediately relieve the pain, nor set your mind at ease.

"The second, is a gift of sorts," she says, reaching into the top drawer of her desk which she unlocks with a wave of her wand. You frowned gently, not knowing how to respond as she pulls out a little wooden box. She casts another spell and the box opens with an intricate unravelling of the wooden box.

Your breath catches in your throat at you recognise the contents immediately; the time turner that Hermione had been given by Dumbledore all those years ago.

"I'm sure you remember this, as I believe yourself and miss Granger made excellent use of this in your third and fifth respective years." You could do nothing but nod, overwhelmed at the sudden implication of the possibilities of the gift.

"As you know, nothing can be altered by reversing the time, everything will always happened exactly as it always had. I know how tempting it could be to try and fix the projection of our lives, but consider this a gentle warning as to why it is not practical to do so," she says, handing you the time turner. You feel the cold, heavy weight of the time piece in your palm as you inspect it, remembering every detail.

"I always wish I'd gotten more time with Dougal, even just to relive a singular moment or to see him one last time but I was never brave enough, never wanting to jeopardise how far I'd come in my healing. But for you, the gift of time could be invaluable."

You began to cry silently, tears unable to be held back any longer at her kind gesture.

"Thank you, so much," you said through the tears, struggling to hold back your sobs. She immediately stood and moved to wrap her arms around your shoulders, her cape falling over you as if she was protecting you entirely.

"You always were one of my very favourite students," she says, rubbing your shoulder. "Despite the trouble, the mischief was usually rather funny," she admitted. Both of you laughed for a moment at her words, your free hand coming up to wipe at your eyes.

"If I were you, I'd chose a memory that you weren't originally around for, you'll get more time with him. Unless you want to watch from afar," she says, straightening herself out, though keeping a firm hand on your shoulder.

You wracked your brain for a time that you weren't around Fred, finding it hard to think of any specifics. Showing up randomly at the burrow would only pose deep, unanswerable questions that you couldn't explain, everything had to fit to the exact projection of exactly what had happened.

A vague memory of Harry popped into your mind, a tale he'd told about the twins that had been endearing to say the least. You remembered him telling you about seeing Fred and George comforting a young boy in the courtyard that had been victim to Umbridge's unorthodox punishments whilst you were in detention with Snape. Perfect. There was no chance of you accidentally showing up, knowing that you'd gone straight to the common room after that particular detention and it wouldn't interrupt the greater timeline.

You closed your eyes and estimated how many turns you'd need, settling on a little over three full turns, praying it would be enough as you fixated on a certain point.

Immediately your sense of space and time began to shift as you broke through whatever dimension you were entering as the time turner rumbled in your hand.

You were immediately met by the sight of Snape's classroom door which was thankfully sealed shut. You ran immediately out to the courtyard, desperation and adrenaline coursing through your body as you fought to get to your destination quickly, not knowing how much time you'd have.

Your knees nearly buckled upon hearing hushed whispers around the corner from you, tucked away in one of the corridors.

"It's not as bad as it seems, see, it's fading already."

"You can hardly see ours anymore and the pain stops eventually,"

"Yeah."

You walk around the corner and your lip instantly quivers at seeing him. You had to act strong, be strong for him so he wouldn't worry, knowing you couldn’t change the trajectory of time but it was so hard.

He was crouched on the floor beside the stone bench where the young boy sat sobbing with George sat next to him trying to comfort the sad boy, showing him his own scars on the back of his hand.

Fred's hair was a little longer than it had been when he died, something that you had always loved on him, secretly preferring when his hair looked a little overgrown and shaggy. He wore a blue striped polo shirt with a mustard yellow long sleeve shirt underneath and his dark trousers, all of which complemented him so well. In the time between the current events and his death, you'd rarely seen him wear anything other than a fancy suit when he worked at the shop or a simple pair of sweatpants when he got home, usually exhausted. It was so refreshing to see him look so perfectly Fred, reminding you of the boy you'd fallen hopelessly in love with all those years ago.

George also looked great, wearing a matching outfit with contrasting colours that complimented him just as well. He looked well and happy and you had to hold back another quiver of your lip at seeing the boy you loved like your own brother be so different to how you knew him now.

Fred noticed you almost immediately as you walked around the corner, stood silently observing him beside the stone pillar and the wickedly playful grin spread all over his face upon seeing you. He sprang up from his crouched position and raised his eyebrows at you in surprise.

You immediately flung yourself into his arms and he caught you seamlessly with a little 'oof' at the sudden impact. Your eyes filled with the tears you were trying so hard to stop as the familiarity and comfort of being in his arms surrounded you. Nothing felt like this. You fit so perfectly into his arms that he had once mentioned that your body must have been moulded from his own, your head resting perfectly on his chest, directly over his beating heart. His scent surrounded you like a delicious fog, the familiar scents of sweet marshmallow and dark notes of whiz bang smoke clung to your nostrils as you took deep breaths in trying to fill your body with his scent so that you'd always remember.

You felt like you could finally breathe again, finally home where you belonged.

His arms had locked around your shoulders, keeping you firmly against his body, no doubt sensing your need for him in that moment. His hand played with the strands of your hair as he bent down to kiss the top of your head.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" He asks quietly, only loud enough for you to hear, considering you still had an audience. Hearing him address you, calling you sweetheart had your world shattering and you could no longer stop the tears from falling down your face.

"F-Fred?" You said with a shaky breath, trying desperately to hold back the sobs that built up within your body.

"I'm here, I'm right here," he said soothingly, rocking you both back and forth gently as he pressed another kiss to your head.

"What's happened? Did Snape do something? Umbridge?" He says, pulling you back slightly so that he can look you in the eye, his worry clearly evident on his face, the protective side of him coming out as he considered that someone had hurt you.

You shook your head quickly, knowing you couldn't say anything that would work as an excuse.

"No, I just, I just needed to see you," you said honestly, the innocence and the weight of your words tugging at your heart, knowing he would never know how much you meant it.

His brown pulled together quickly in a slight frown before it disappeared off his face as he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

You tried to push away all the intrusive thoughts that plagued your mind, things that only propelled you to feeling sadder, things you wanted to tell him and all the things you missed about him but you couldn't.

"I love you Freddie," you said, looking directly into his eyes, watching as they sparkled and an honest smile pulled at his lips.

"Not as much as I love you sweetheart," he replied, pulling you in for another hug, though this one was more playful as he squeezed you, making a laugh erupt from your mouth.

You suddenly pulled away and looked towards George who looked on in equal parts confusion and worry. The young boy had gone, no doubt feeling awkward about the whole interaction, leaving you with just the twins. 

You broke away from Fred and moved towards George who stood instinctively as you approached him. You threw your arms around his neck and he fumbled awkwardly for a moment before moving his hands to wrap around you, holding you to him.

"I love you Georgie," you said. He chuckled against you.

"What the bloody hell happened in that potions room?" He jokes but suddenly squeezes you tighter and replies that he loves you too.

"Trying to steal my woman brother?" Fred says from beside us, his tone just as joking and playful as you'll always remember it to be.

"Maybe, I am the better looking one after all," George jokes as you slip out of his hold.

"My future wife disagrees, don't you sweetheart," Fred says, pulling you back over to his side.

You felt your heart shatter at his words and you tried desperately to act neutral under the circumstances, knowing that he had referred to you that way since fifth year. It had always filled you with pride and giddiness each and every time he would call you his future wife, the butterflies in your tummy fluttering wildly at his determination to marry you.

Somehow you found your strength and like magic you slipped into the moment, casting all thoughts aside as you spent your time wisely.

"Sorry George," you smirked, turning back to face Fred to really look at him, knowing that your time would soon be up.

"You think I'll make a good wife?" You ask Fred, who beams down at you with a smile as he slips his arm around you again.

"The best, only one I'll ever need," he smirks, his hand wandering on your waist to reach down and pat your bum.

"I'd do anything to marry you," you said, your voice breaking slightly towards the end as your emotions overcame you once again at the deeper, more painful meaning of your words.

"I have to go," you said to Fred, knowing that you couldn't linger around much longer. "Don't mention this again please, I don't want Snape to know I snuck out of detention," you lied. He nodded in understanding and you moved forward to give him a kiss, pouring your heart and soul into it as you clutched onto to the collar of his polo shirt, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

"I think you should get detention with Snape more often," he says, still holding you tightly to him. You laugh and nod enthusiastically as you spend your last moments really looking at him, trying to commit every inch of his skin to memory.

The little scar above his eyebrow, the mark on his nose, the curve and little bump on the bridge of his nose, the way his hair shaped his face perfectly.

His greeny brown eyes, always glittering with mischief, that's what you'd always remember of him.

"Bye Freddie, I love you" you said, barely able to contain your tears as you walked quickly away, hiding around the corner as you started to sob. You flicked the time turner back just the right amount and tolu felt yourself once again being pulled in every direction until you landed back in McGonagall’s office.

She’s still sat at the desk, signing some papers when you return and she offers you a kind smile, seeing your tear stained cheeks.

“Thank you,” you said, owing her all the gratitude in the world for gifting you the opportunity to see your beloved once again as you placed the time turner delicately back in the box on the table. She nodded warmly and smiled again.

“It’ll be here for you whenever you need it,”

She says, placing it back into the drawer desk, “now, shall we begin the ceremony?” She stands and gestures for you to join her and you do, already feeling stronger by the minute, like your brief visit with Fred had recharged you and given you enough strength to continue.

George slipped his hand into yours the second you were reunited, both of you sitting together as Mcgonagall lead the remembrance ceremony. It was hard to hear Fred’s name and the memories of him shared around the room, but you’d found a strength you didn’t know you had. You cried, you laughed and you celebrated him in every way you could, in the way that he had always deserved.

Epilogue

As the years drew on, you’d visited McGonagall’s office numerous times to visit Fred as it were, only doing so when you felt you desperately needed to, which happened to be less and less over the years as you found your strength. Sometimes you watched from afar as you both interacted, seeing the love between you and sometimes you intercepted memories so that you could interact with him, smell him and feel his skin against yours.

You never dated, feeling no pull or desire for another man in your life, never able to commit to anyone else, knowing that they would always come second to your true love. George had become something to you which you could never explain, a love of sorts which teetered between friendship and more, though it was hard to cross that line, knowing that anything you did would be irreversible. Years passed with you both stuck in limbo, until one day the line was crossed and you found no guilt or pain on the other side of the line but instead found comfort and love. You’d moved in together to a little cabin in the woods, the dream that you’d once had with Fred that George fulfilled for you and one sadness filled night had changed everything when you both sought comfort in each other, needing to feel like you weren’t alone anymore.

It was a natural progression to love George, and you both found that the only way of moving past your pain was to accept that Fred would always be the other half to both of you, with the rest completely dedicated to each other. You both knew you were the only ones that would be able to have this together, that somehow the gap left by Fred would remain but it would be comfortable, like an additional blessing to your relationship. No deciding between the two, no competition and no guilt at loving both.

You married a year after moving in together and you were happy, finally a Weasley just like you’d always wanted. You’d expected to be conflicted and initially you had been, but you and George were perfect for each other and you started a new life together, always keeping Fred in your hearts but finally putting yourselves and your relationship first.

When your first son arrived not a year after your wedding, you’d both cried tears of utter joy when he was born with fiery red hair and little freckles, a complete clone of both his daddy and his uncle Fred.

You didn’t name him after Fred, nor Gred or Forge as George had somewhat jokingly suggested throughout your pregnancy, but instead chose to give him his own name, letting him forge own legacy in this calm world, one where he would always know about his uncle Freddie and how he died a hero.

[061306]

␥ list of things i’ve successfully manifested !

i discovered manifestation and the law around early 2022 and here's what i have manifested since then! this might not be much but this is to remind me that i am capable of anything and everything!

𖥻 1. clearer skin

i used to have a terrible breakout on the right side of my face + oily skin. now my skin is much better and less oily! i do not have acne anymore.

𖥻 2. weight loss ( 14 kgs )

i went from 69 kgs to 55 kgs in around two months with minimal exercise ( walking ) & a simple diet.

𖥻 3. height increase ( 11cm )

i used to be 150cm but not anymore lol. i got better proportions too!

𖥻 4. text messages & instant replies from people.

i also manifested message from a friend i was no longer in contact with.

𖥻 5. passing exams i thought i was going to fail

accountancy was my weakest subject but i manifested passing several tests and exams. i also manifested getting better in it!

𖥻 6. getting above average % board exams

board examinations are a big deal in my country and i, unfortunately, ended in a stream i was not interested in. i manifested getting ~80% in them despite getting way lesser in school examinations.

𖥻 7. food

one single thought turned into an assumption and i am having whatever i want for dinner!

𖥻 8. storage of my phone increasing

i only have 32gb of storage in my phone lol. so sometimes i have to clear app caches to make space, but not anymore.

𖥻 9. love confession

i simply wanted a love confession and i got it. as easy as it gets.

𖥻 10. an increament in my mom’s salary & money for myself

my mom really wanted an increament and i manifested it! she got increament of 5.5k! also manifested a bonus for her. + got gift money from my parents and relatives!

𖥻 11. letting go of & detaching from several people

i used to be attached some people that hurt me but not anymore. i have let go of them and it feels so much better.

𖥻 12. books & manga ( jjk )

my mom is not the type to let me spend money on buying books ( for leisure reading ), much less a comic book. but i manifested her allowing me to buy 4 books + 1 manga volume! she even paid for them.

𖥻 13. delaying the start of my college, teachers & professors taking leaves, not getting scolded for submitting assignments late

my college was supposed to start from early june but i manifested a delay and it started from mid-july. i have manifested both school teachers and college professors taking leaves on my desired days.

𖥻 14. nice aura + compliments

i have a magnetic aura, people feel comfort around me and i get so many compliments about literally everything i do!

𖥻 15. quick deliveries of my orders

🤭🤭🤭

𖥻 16. winning an elocution competition

i was really worried because i only found about it a day before and some other contestants had been trained by their professors. i was full of nerves but still won the first rank! the judges said my content was unique and everything i did was perfect.

𖥻 17. kitten type beauty

manifested myself big upturned eyes with pretty lashes & a v-shaped face with smooth skin!

𖥻 18. cats loving me

call me a cat whisperer the way cats love me! i can easily befriend any cat!!! ˃ᴗ˂

𖥻 19. desired skincare products for cheap

i really wanted vitamin c serum and face cleanser and sometime later i saw an ad with an offer to get both for 1 rupee! crazy right?

𖥻 20. entering the void on several occasions.

i have entered the void several times albeit unaware. recently i've started becoming aware before snapping out of it!

masterlist. | notes – i've also manifested getting a merch of my bias. i got it from my best friend as gift but i didn't add it on the list because i didn't want break the perfect 20. also this list is as on 04 DEC 2023.

[theres-a-body-here]

his! if possible, i’ll request cole cassidy x reader who’s apart of Talon? thank you so muchhh! and no pressure, if you can’t complete it that’s alright!

You never specified the tone of the fic  😈 😈 😈

Cole Cassidy x Male!reader

Cole took a deep breath as he clutched his broken robotic arm, trying desperately to ignore the searing pain coursing through the attachment nerves.

His breathing became labored as sweat dripped down his forehead, mixing with the dust kicked up from the explosion that went off in the building. His communication device was broken as well. He couldn't call for the others.

Cole grunts as he attempts to stand, but is stopped as pain shoots through his leg. The pain felt like a thousand needles piercing his flesh, making it hard for him to think straight. He tried to get up again, but his wounded leg gave way underneath him. He looks around and finds Peacemaker, grabbing it.

After a few moments of silence, trying to come up with some sort of plan, he hears a groan a few yards away. Cole quickly turned his head in its direction, his breath catching in his throat.

In an awful way, Cole wished you had died in the explosion instead of having to face you himself. Killing his childhood best friend wasn't something he ever wanted to do.

You were still kicking. Talon's agents always had a nasty habit of not staying dead. Your face was contorted into a grimace as you pulled yourself out of the rubble, Talon armor cracked and tearing into your skin. After a few feet of crawling, Cassidy noticed the loss of your right leg. Despite that, you seemed hell bound on completing your mission.

Stubborn, just as you were in Deadlock.

You halted your movement towards him and met his gaze. Both of you stared at one another in silence. Eyes locked onto each other like two predators who knew each other's moves all too well. A soft wind blew through the broken concrete of the former building, rustling dust around them. No one spoke a word, but the tension was palpable.

Memories flooded back to Cole - warm summer nights spent under Texas skies, holding you close and feeling your laughter vibrate through him whenever he planted a gentle kiss on your cheek. As he looked at his gun, he remembered those moments fondly before tightening his grip on it.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange hue over the landscape as the sky turned dark blue above.

Your eyes darted around, spotting your revolver lying nearby, its cold metal reflecting the dying sunlight. He also spotted the familiar gun, not believing that you kept it after all this time. Cole watched you look at it and then back at him, his heart racing wildly as he realized what might happen next. The weapon lay there like a temptress calling for attention.

"You...had it engraved for me?"

"Consider it a parting gift, darlin'"

You slowly started reaching for the weapon, fingers curling slightly as if to caress it.

Cole swung his arm, pointing his gun directly at you without even thinking about it. This action froze you mid-reach, leaving you staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"Don't shoot me out of panic," you said in a unnervingly calm voice, though whether it was meant as a taunt or genuine plea, Cole couldn't discern.

Cole ground his teeth together, searching for the right words to say without lowering his guard. He kept his sights trained on you, never breaking eye contact even for a moment.

Before Cole could find his voice, you began speaking calmly once more, "Humans need conflict; it's out of love that I want society to grow stronger." Your cold eyes pierce through his very being.

"Talon will strengthen humanity."

He watched as you started reaching for the pistol again, his grip on Peacemaker tightening further.

The world seemed distant to Cole as the sounds of your voice filled his mind, echoing with justifications and explanations for why you ended up here. His ears rang with the weight of your words, making everything else feel far away as you continued your 'speech'.

You truly believed Talon was helping the world.

"Please… darlin', don't make me do this," Cole whispered desperately under his breath, his voice cracking as he fought tears.

Silence reigned once more as the cool evening breeze danced around them, lifting dust devils into the air. The moon crested the horizon, bathing them in pale light.

"My heart and actions are utterly unclouded," you said softly, almost sadly. Then suddenly, you lunged for the pistol, grasping it firmly before leveling it at Cole.

The click of an empty chamber echoed in the quiet desert air, followed almost instantaneously by the sharp retort of a single gunshot.

[dizzyjelly]

Best Birthday Yet

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: your birthday party is going well, until you open a rather offensive gift from your boyfriend which causes him and your bsf Ellie to get into a fight. After he gets physical with her, you kick him out and break up with him. Ellie comfort you and dismisses your party guests then you and her share a loving moment a bit later.

Cw: mentions of weight/weight loss, toxic bf

Your birthday was going fairly well, everyone had seemed to be enjoying themselves as the room was filled with giggles and conversation. There was a small snack table while you waited for food to arrive, and a slightly bigger table with drinks. You were laughing at something your boyfriend Josh said when the doorbell rang. Your brows furrowed, unsure of who it could be.

Your face broke out in a smile as you opened the door to your best friend Ellie who stood with her hands full of your favorite takeout and a gift.

"Happy birthday!" She greeted.

"Thank you! Hi!" You greeted back, pulling her inside and helping her set down the bags of food and setting her gift on the table of the rest of them.

"Sorry I know I'm kinda late." She apologized as she pulled you in for a hug.

"It's fine. I'm super hungry though, bee waiting on your ass with the food!" You teased and she rolled her eyes.

"Hey babe." Josh said as he pulled you to his side with an arm around your waist, interrupting you and Ellies conversation.

"Oh hi." You smiled as you leaned to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Ellie." He nodded at her.

"Josh" She responded, clenching her jaw as she disliked him more than words could explain, "I need a drink." She muttered, walking away from the two of you.

"Huh. That's weird." You thought out loud.

"What's weird?" Josh asked, taking a sip of his beer.

"Oh nothing she just seemed kinda upset." You shook your head dismissively, trying not to worry.

"Probably on her period or something." Josh laughed, but you narrowed your eyes at him with a scoff before making your way over to Ellie.

Josh wasn't the best. Not to mention the misogynistic comments, but he was also a bit flaky as Ellie would say. She didn't understand what you even saw in him.

"Hey, are you ok?" You asked Ellie as you brought an arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, fine." She answered, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Ok. Well wanna help me call everyone to dinner?" You asked, your head resting on her shoulder.

"Sure." She answered with a small shrug.

The two of you had everyone gathered at the table and food out in no time. Everyone was enjoying their meals, you sat at the head of the table with Ellie on your left and Josh on your right. You'd taken small notice to the way she was continously glaring at him from across the table, but you did your best to pay it no mind.

Once everybody finished their meals, you were ready to open gifts. Ellie brought hers over to you first, eager for you to open it. You smiled at her then pulled something out of the gift bag. It didn't take long for you to realize it was a canvas, you flipped it over to see the painting she'd done for you.

You smiled so big as you recognized what it was. A photo that was taken of you two by some random dude while you were at the aquarium. You remembered that day so well, it was one of your favorite memories.

"Ellie! Oh my gosh! Thank you, I love it!" You exclaimed as you stood out of your seat to hug her.

She smiled as her chin rested on your shoulder, her hands at the small of your back.

"Knew you would." She simply said, hugging you with her usual tight grip.

You pulled away and smiled at her, she was doing the same. You sat back down and proceeded with gifts. Mostly gift cards or cash, but a few items. Then it came time to open Josh's gift. You were very excited, unwrapping it feverishly.

But your face dropped as you saw what was inside. A book. Not just any book, no. A fitness book, specifically for weight loss. You sighed in disbelief, not even saying a word as you tossed it aside and went into the kitchen. Ellies brows furrowed at your sudden exit, then she picked up the book and read the title.

A scoff fell from her lips, followed by a bitter short laugh.

"Dude, seriously? What the hell is wrong with you!" You could hear her shout out him from where you stood at the kitchen counter.

"What!" He shouted back.

You ran your hands through your hair, tears welling in your eyes. Finally you mustered the courage to enter the dining room once again. Ellie and Josh were now standing face to face, arguing harshly. All the other party guests just watched with concern. Then, Ellie shoved him back a bit. Your eyes widened, what the fuck was she doing.

Then, you gasped as Josh shook his head then punched her in the face! You ran over to then immediately, standing between the two.

"What the hell!" You shouted at him, turning around to Ellie.

You held her face in your hands, turning it to see how badly he'd hit her.

"She started it!" He argued.

"Get the fuck out, now! Leave! Just go!" You shouted at him as you shoved him all the way to the door.

"Whatever man." He scoffed.

"Were done, don't even fucking show up here again. Don't text, don't call!" You shouted as he made his way out to his car.

You sigh, your head falling against the door as you closed it. Then you felt a pair of hands rub at your shoulders.

"Hey, I'm sorry." Ellie whispered, leaning her chest against your back and letting her nose rest on your shoulder.

"It's fine. I don't know what his deal is." You rolled your eyes.

You turned around and met Ellie's eyes, cracking a small smile as to say I'm fine. But she knew you weren't. Her hands rested at your sides now, your own moving to her shoulders.

"Great party, huh?" You joked as you started to cry.

Ellie just sighed, pulling you against her as her hands moved to rub your back soothingly. You cried into her chest as she held you.

"I'll just tell everyone to leave ok? Why don't you go up to your room." She whispered, and you nodded against her before heading upstairs.

Ellie told everyone to go then cleaned up the dinner table. She set all your gifts in a neat pile, but made sure to toss the book from Josh. She then went into the kitchen and saw your untouched cake on the counter. She cut a slice and put a candle on top, lighting it then brining it upstairs.

She knocked at your door lightly, smiling as she walked in with your cake. You looked at her from where you sat in bed and smiled. She walked over and sat beside you, handing you the plate as she began to sing the 'happy birthday' song. She finished and you blew out the candle, which she took and set down on your nightstand as you began to eat.

"Thank you Els." You thanked her as you finished.

"Of course Y/n." She smiled.

You leaned over to give her a hug, just to show you were grateful. You pulled away and let your head rest on her shoulder.

"You know, I'd rather spend my birthday with just you anyways." You said quietly.

"Yeah?" She answered.

You sa up straight ad looked over at her. She laughed a bit.

"What?" She asked.

And you didn't give her an answer, not with words at least. Instead, you leaned in and put your lips to hers. She let out a small gasp of shock, she couldn't believe you were really kissing her. You smiled against her as you deepened the kiss, your hands resting at the back of her neck. You finally pulled away and smiled.

"Sorry it took me so long to realize how good you are for me." You joked.

"About damn time." She chuckled.

You kissed once more before lying down and getting cozy together. She had her arm underneath your neck, and you rested your head on her chest as your arms wrapped around her. She brought her other hand to your side, rubbing at it lightly. This mightve been your best birthday yet.

[green-eyedfirework]

Slade isn’t expecting visitors today, so he’s annoyed that the sound of footsteps interrupts his book.  The curtains are drawn wide to let in the sunlight, and he doesn’t bother getting off the chair.  As one of Talia’s best gladiators, he can get away with a lot more than anyone else.  He’s earned enough to buy his freedom ten times over, and Talia knows that the only reason he’s here is because he wants to be here.

It’s in her best interests to keep him sweet.  A lesson Ra’s never learned.

“Slade,” she calls out before she fully steps into view, wearing a low-cut dress typical of high class fashion and yet bristling with knives, “I’ve brought a gift.”

“I wasn’t aware I was expecting one,” Slade says, still in his seat.  There are two guards with her in addition to her personal shadow, and they’re holding someone upright between them.

“This was one a long time in waiting,” Talia smiles, and beckons the guards forward.  It takes a long time to recognize the stumbling figure between them—clad in the typical revealing silks of a bedslave, bandages wound around their torso and half across their face, ruffling dark hair.  Their head is bowed, golden cuffs around their wrists, but it isn’t until Slade spots the blue brooch clipping the silks to the unassuming black collar that he realizes who this is.

Nightwing.  Richard Grayson.  Up until recently, one of the Arena’s favorite gladiators.  And the man that killed Slade’s son.

He doesn’t realize he’s on his feet until Talia’s smile widens.  He ignores her, and stares at Grayson.  The man is gaunt where he was once gleaming, a golden young gladiator now gray and exhausted and faintly trembling.  The outline of his collarbones is starkly visible, as are the dark shadows around his visible eye.  Grayson lifts his head to meet Slade’s gaze, expression cool and blank, and there’s no fire in that startlingly blue eye.

He looks like someone walking to their executioner.

“And what’s the gift?” Slade asks sharply.  He heard of Grayson’s loss weeks ago, a startling upset with one of Talia’s young gladiators, and the Arena had voted to spare him.  He assumed that Talia would’ve used Grayson in one of the games she was always playing to catch Lord Wayne’s attention, not bring him here.

To the first person in the country who wanted to tear him apart.

Talia smiles, and gestures to Grayson.  There’s a flicker of something in Grayson’s eye that fades to blankness.  It isn’t quite resignation or quiet placidity.  It’s a mask, and Slade’s itching to tear it off his face.

“He’s yours,” she says.  For what?  For a night, a day, a week, a fuck, a beating, a—“to do with whatever you wish.  Keep him or kill him, I do not care.  His fate is yours.”

Slade blinks.  This time, the fracture across Grayson’s mask spreads wider before it’s suppressed.  Before Slade can fully understand what’s going on, his cell door is opened and Grayson is none-too-gently shoved inside.

“Have fun,” Talia laughs, smirking at Grayson before she walks away, “Goodbye, Richard.”

Grayson doesn’t say a word.  Soon, the guards and Talia are beyond hearing, and the heavy weight of the silence is the only thing there.  Silence, and Slade staring at the single person he’s wanted to tear apart for years.

He takes a step forward.  Grayson presses back against the bars, clearly trembling now, expression fighting to be blank but panic too hard to fully conceal.  He’s trapped in a corner and there’s nowhere to go and Slade stalks forward with all the time in the world.

“Nothing to say?” Slade asks, because he’s been waiting for this moment for so long, stoking the fires of his vengeance year after year, waiting for Wayne to finally buckle and schedule a fight between them, and in his dreams, Nightwing turns to Icarus, the boy that flew too close to the sun.  And Nightwing dies, red spilling across the sands.

Now it looks like the wax wings burned on the way off but didn’t manage to take him with it, and Grayson’s thinner than he usually is, lost muscle and new scars and no matter how fiercely he tries to manage his expression, there’s a brightness he can’t quite mimic.

“Is there anything to say?” Grayson asks, voice hoarse, “You’re going to kill me.  I don’t have a speech for pretty last words.”  Defiant but weary.

This is a pale imitation of the golden, gleaming young gladiator that raised bloody dual swords to the roar of an Arena, triumphant over his son’s corpse, and frustration abruptly washes over Slade.

“Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Slade growls, and he’s close enough to wrap a hand around Grayson’s throat and yank him away from the bars.  “Do you really think that I’ve been dreaming of killing you for years only to give you the mercy of a quick death?”

Grayson does attempt to defend himself, long-ingrained fighting instincts unable to let him truly surrender, no matter how much resignation he feigns, but Slade flings him at the floor to avoid the retaliatory swipe.

That Grayson falls is the first surprise.  The man has preternatural grace.  Slade quickly calculates that the bandages across his right eye are the culprit, as are whatever injuries he’s hiding, but the thought is pushed aside when Grayson hits the ground.

Because he screams, actually, open-mouthed, screams, voice cracking in a way that indicates precisely why it’s so hoarse, and immediately rolls over to curl up on his side, gasping and shaking and nearly clawing at the floor.

That isn’t a minor injury.  That is—

Slade’s not an idiot, not a mindless brute tearing people apart because he knows nothing else, no matter how much the impression suits him.  He used to be in the military, used to command, used to strategize, and he’s spent years watching lords and ladies play their games.

It’s a fact that Grayson displeased Talia in some way, she would’ve given him back to Wayne otherwise.  Dropping him in Slade’s lap means Grayson’s only coming out of the cell as a bloody ruin.  So Talia got her money’s worth, sold Grayson to everyone that’s wanted a piece of the charming young gladiator, until—until someone damaged him so badly that Talia wouldn’t even try putting him back together.

Slade grabs that ridiculous brooch and uses it to lift Grayson off the floor.  Grayson’s struggles are weak, and they cut out with a choked sound when Slade drops him on the bed.  Slade finds the nearest knife.

Grayson sees the light glinting off the blade, reflected in his too-wide blue eye, and squeezes that eye shut.  Stops breathing too.

Slade carefully slides the knife under the bandages and slices them all free.

The outer layer comes unwrapped easily, the cloth wrapped around Grayson’s head to keep it in place.  The second layer is more packed together, but comes undone with a few more cuts.  It’s the third layer that’s plastered to Grayson’s skin, and Grayson starts making those quiet sounds again, as if he’s trying not to shout.

It comes off, tugging at every inch of Grayson’s skin, to reveal a brilliantly red slash extending from just below Grayson’s right cheekbone to disappear into his hairline.  In its path lies an empty eye socket.

One visible blue eye stares at him, glimmering and wide.

When Slade places the knife right under it, he gets the first true glimpse of terror.

~#~

Grayson is sitting on the edge of the bed by the time Slade steps through the curtain, a book in one hand but clearly alert.  Aware of how long gladiatorial training takes, aware that Slade is back too soon, wary and—

His entire face brightens when their visitor steps past Slade.  Any thought Slade had of keeping himself between the two is thrown out the window when Grayson pushes himself upright and nearly throws himself at Hood with a cry of “Jaybird!”

Hood catches him and clutches him close, spilling a long string of half-choked apologies, and now Slade’s curiosity is burning.  Hood is murmuring “sorry,” over and over and over again, and Grayson is shushing him, and there’s a familiarity there that Slade hadn’t expected.  Sure, he knows that Hood was trained alongside Grayson, before he went out to a match he wasn’t prepared for and became Talia’s, but Hood’s bitterness for his former master and all Wayne’s gladiators is fairly well known.

Until now.

“It’s okay,” Grayson finally says loudly, squeezing Hood tightly in a hug, “It’s okay, Jay, it’s not your fault, and I’m fine, I’m okay.”

Well, that was a lie.  Hood clearly knows it as well because he disentangles enough to look Grayson in the face—and blanches.  “What happened?” he says quietly, cupping the side of Grayson’s face that’s still bandaged, “Your face—your eye—” Quick as a flash, Hood turns on Slade with a snarl, “What did you do to him, you bastard—”

“Jason, stop!” Grayson gets between them, his back to Slade, holding Hood’s shoulders, “Slade didn’t do anything to me, calm down.”

The light in Hood’s eyes is a little less manic when his gaze drops to Grayson.  “If it wasn’t him, then who?” Hood snaps.  Grayson doesn’t immediately answer.  “Dick.”

Slade crosses his arms and waits.  Grayson didn’t tell him the full story, but it’s easy—“Sionis,” Grayson exhales.

Enough to guess.

Hood’s face runs a full gamut of emotions in half a minute.  “Talia’s blacklisted Roman,” Hood says slowly, “That because of you?”

Grayson makes a weak smile and shrugs, “Difficult to do business with a man that insists on destroying your things.”

“Fucking hell, Dick,” Hood curses roundly, “Why the fuck—you can’t—stop trying to save me!”

The last one comes out as a shout, and far too loud.  Grayson’s pressed his lips in a thin line, Hood’s eyes are flickering, and the silence is heavy and tense.

Both of them flick a glance towards Slade.  “Don’t stop on my account,” he says mildly, “This is the most entertainment I’ve gotten all month.”

“Can we get a moment?” Hood asks, on the verge of rudeness.

“You paid for a visit,” Slade points out, “Not privacy.”

Grayson steps smoothly in front before Hood can retort, and asks quietly, “Can we purchase privacy then?”

Slade flicks a glance at Hood, who’s nearly vibrating in place, and Grayson, tense and desperate, and the way their hands are locked together, firm and tight.  He pushes off the wall and heads for the curtain, “Fine.”

“How much?” Hood calls out.

Slade smirks before he lets the curtain close behind him, “You get to find out.”

He ends up waiting outside the cell, absently sharpening a knife, hearing a low murmur too quiet to make out distinct words.  At one point, Hood’s voice rises into a tirade about Grayson’s intelligence and common sense, but it’s quickly hushed.  It’s close to the half hour when Hood comes stomping out.

“Well?” Hood crosses his arms, “What’s the price?”

Slade arches an eyebrow, “You’re not the one who has to pay.”

For a moment, he thinks Hood’s going to punch him.  The younger gladiator squeezes his hands into fists and his glare is vicious enough to set something on fire.  “If you hurt him—”

“What, Hood?” Slade cuts him off, “What will you do?  You can’t stop me, and Talia won’t stop me, so explain to me how exactly you propose to protect him?”  Hood is vibrating in place, a murderous statue.  “If you threaten me again, I won’t be so obliging to the next deal you want to make.”

The paleness is from fury and fear both, and Hood keeps his mouth shut as he roughly stomps past Slade.  Slade watches him go until his footsteps stop sounding, and then heads back inside.

Grayson is waiting for him, again sitting on the bed, hands crossed in his lap, gaze fixed on Slade.  “What is the price?” he asks quietly.  Evenly, for all that he’s tense and clearly scared.

“Answer some questions,” Slade says, taking the chair, “Honestly.”

Grayson looks suspicious.  “What questions?”

“What did Hood mean when he told you to stop trying to save him?”

Grayson purses his lips but deflates, leaning back, clearly resigned.  “It’s not really a secret,” he sighs, “I threw the match.”

It takes a second for Slade to comprehend.  “You threw it,” he repeats, “You threw the match.”

Grayson shoots him a half-irritated look, “I wasn’t going to kill Jay.”  Something crosses over his face, a flicker of the death that still hangs between them, the dead boy that Slade wants to avenge.  “And I—I knew they wouldn’t vote for my death,” Grayson says quietly, “Jay—I couldn’t take that risk.”

On the surface of it, it makes sense—Grayson’s made a name for himself, been pretty and charming at every sponsor that flits his way, there’s no way they’d let him die without extracting their pound of flesh.

“And Sionis?” Slade asks.

At this, Grayson’s face twists.  His gaze drops, and Slade doesn’t know if he’s doing it consciously, but his hair drifts over the bandages, as if to conceal it.  “Sionis—has his preferences.”

“And Talia whores out the gladiators that aren’t doing well.”

Grayson’s expression twists further.  “Unless she had reason to doubt his self-restraint,” he says quietly, and Slade can see it.  Can see Grayson provoking Sionis until the man lashed out with a wound too egregious to ignore.  Lashings, brutality, blood and pain?  Fine, when it could all be concealed under shifting silks, and everyone wanted scars on a gladiator.

But a missing eye on one of the Arena’s prettiest warriors?  No, even Talia al Ghul, with all her animosity, couldn’t ignore that that was a step too far.

“Regardless of whether or not it worked, you had to know she would kill you for it,” Slade says.

Grayson doesn’t look him in the eye when he responds, “Talia was clear on my eventual fate from the very first day.”

Slade blinks.  With that interesting piece of information, Grayson shifts up the bed, until he can lean against the wall, and cracks open his book.  He doesn’t say anything else.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Congratulations on hitting 450!

Maybe you could do Tech x Jedi!Reader post Order 66?

I've recently been obsessed with all youre writing, youre doing GREAT!

-<3

Awww thank you anon! That's so sweet of you.

I hope you enjoy this little fic.

Love oo

Alone

Warnings: Order 66 mentions, deaths, loss, angst, fluff, comfort, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

The datapad gave off a faint glow as you looked at the list of wanted Jedi in the galaxy. There were so many that had been declared dead, even your name had a line through it. You were no longer a threat to the Empire, that is until they found out you were actually alive, and living with Tech and his brothers on Pabu. 

You let out an exhaustive breath, it was all gone. Everything you had grown up knowing. All your friends, family, people you looked up to. Gone. Tears pricked your eyes and you did your best to stifle a sob, the last thing you wanted to do was wake up Tech, but you’d failed.

He stirred and sat beside you putting on his glasses, “What is it?” his fingers played with your hair, hoping the action would calm you down enough to tell him what was wrong. However, he didn’t have to take too long to guess, as soon as he saw the datapad in your hand, he let out a sigh. 

He wanted to comfort you, to take away the sadness and pain, the loss you felt from that day. He slipped the datapad from your hand and placed it on the stand beside him. As he pulled you into his arms and leaned back into the mattress, he slipped off his goggles and placed them on top of the datapad, and then turned his attention back to you. He squeezed tighter as he kept you tucked into his side, kissing your temple and forehead.

“It’s okay.”

“They’re all gone. Everyone …” you stated as you tried to fight the sobs.

“Shhh … it’s okay. I know.” He pressed another kiss, “But you’re not, and I’m still here.” He held you tighter in his arms, tucking your head under his chin. “And obviously that list is faulty, so who knows how many truly survived.”

“Maybe we could try and find them.”

This was a point of contention between the two of you, you wanted to go out there and find other Jedi, track down every lead; and he could understand your desire, but for Tech that would put you needlessly in danger, and it never sat well with him. 

“No.”

“Tech!”

“Listen, cyare, I know you want to find your people. I understand, however … you’d be putting yourself in harm’s way, and you wouldn’t even know if it was worth it. If you’d even find the ones you’re looking for… no one is as important as you. I know I’m being selfish, however … I don’t want to lose you.”

You couldn’t really argue with him about that, you didn’t want to lose him either. You wanted to stay on this paradise island, and remain in his arms, but you couldn’t. 

“I know, and you are the most important one to me too, but … I need to do this. Alone if I have to, but … I need to know. I need to know I’m not the last one.”

Tech fought back the tears, he would gladly go with you, gladly stay by your side, but not if it meant you’d be putting yourself in harm’s way. He couldn’t handle seeing you in that vulnerable position again. It took everything within him to find you after Order 66, and when he did he thought the galaxy gave him one final gift knowing you were still alive and in his arms. But now … now you wanted to leave. 

“There’s nothing I can say that will change your mind, is there?”

You shook your head, staying tucked under his chin and holding him close. “I’m sorry. I love you, Tech. I do. However, I … there’s a calling deep within me that won’t rest until I know there’s at least one more Jedi out there. I … I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to have the weight of the Jedi order on my shoulders alone. I’ll stay in constant contact, and I’ll start looking for those who were already declared dead. I know some of them died on Coruscant, but there are others whose deaths were confirmed but their bodies were never found. I can start there. It’ll be safer, for now at least.”

“And what happens if you do find out you are the last?”

“Then I’ll come back to you.”

“I’ll come with you. I … I don’t want to be apart from you, and not being by your side and worrying will be worse.”

“Tech, you don’t have to, I know how much staying with your brothers and looking after Omega means to you…”

He shook his head, “No. They’re my family, but you’re my cyare. It was my duty to make sure Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker were safe. However, Echo already left to pursue his own sense of duty, it’s now my job to make sure you’re safe. We’ll tell everyone in the morning. Hunter can take us to a space port, where we can ‘borrow’ a ship.”

“I love you, Tech. Thank you.” You shifted and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you, too. But so help me if you die on me, I’ll bring you back just to yell at you.”

You laughed as you pressed your forehead against the side of his face, “Okay. You have my approval to bring me back from the dead and yell at me.”

“Good. Now go to sleep cyare. I’ll keep you safe.”’

“Thank you, Tech. I love you.”

“I know.”

You closed your eyes and let out a deep sigh, as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You didn’t know if this was a smart idea, but the force was telling you, you needed to look for those on the list, it was telling you to help. How could you say no to the force?

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