#betrays the depth of her caring

[ssaalexblake]

and i know it’s been like, 2.5 years and all but yes i Am still mad at the people complaining to the bbc that 13 wasn’t nice enough in Can You Hear Me? like the second they hired Jodie suddenly the doctor had to be emotionally aware and everybody’s surrogate mother. 

I reiterate. This era of dw is a dissertation on fandom bias waiting to happen. 

[gay-artificer]

I've seen people be like downpour ruined how people see five pebbles and im gonna be honest if you were here for any number of years pre-downpour the fandom was always god-awful with the nuance in his character. thats not a downpour thing thats a fandom thing

[ofglories]

Gareth may be one of the few regular humans out of the Knights of the Round, but she's still got some natural abilities that go a bit beyond human. Nothing on the level of Gawain or Agravain or even Gaheris of course, but still. She's strong.

Exceptionally strong.

It's tempered with training, naturally. The wild strength she inherited from both Morgan's Fae blood and King Lot's giant ancestry is carefully controlled by both years of training and Kay's sharp but careful guidance. Still, when she's angry it tends to show more than Gareth intended.

More than once has she accidentally broken a door, a chair, or even a table in Camelot with her anger.

Each time, though, she followed it up with an immediate apology and a sheepish self-assigned duty to repair whatever was broken. It's handy in battle, even Gareth will gladly admit that, but just day to day life? She's forever glad Kay helped her learn how to better control her temper.

The only time it was ever turned on another person was shortly after Gareth learned of her brothers' actions regarding Sir Lamorak. In her fury she started a brawl with them because she had explicitly ordered them to leave him be, to not seek vengeance for their mother's perceived murder without further information. And they didn't listen. So her temper flared to new levels. Honestly had it not been for Dinadan and Tristan's timely intervention, particularly Tristan and his quick actions in grabbing Gareth and working to calm her, the other Orkneys would have suffered far worse than they did.

In Chaldea her anger is even better controlled, the strength only coming through when wanted. ...Or when she's dealing with Lancelot.

[girlrotterr]

But I'm a lesbian!

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: inspired by the movie, "but i'm a cheerleader" !! Did my own little spin on it. (This may have a part two!)

→ Part two! → Part three! → Part four! → Part five!  → Part six!

Forced to a camp known as "True Directions," your arrival was no choice of your own. Your parents, upon discovering your sexuality, had made the decision to send you there. As you followed your guide towards the dormitories, someone caught your eye—a girl with auburn hair, casually puffing on a cigarette.

Noticing your presence, the girl glanced up and rolled her eyes. Your guide gestured towards her, prompting her to approach you. Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "Ellie."

"Hello," you responded, your voice betraying your nerves as you shook her hand, noting its soft yet firm grip.

With a sigh, Ellie remarked, "they sent new meat here again, huh?" She took another drag from her cigarette, casting a judgmental gaze in your direction.

"I’m sure to be out of the way," you said, trying to sound confident. "I’ll pass every trial here to get back home."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Uh-huh..." she mused. “You’ll be here a while then."

“Ahem," the guide cleared her throat towards Ellie, who responded with an eye roll before retreating to her pink bed.  

"Very well then, I will leave you to unpack your things. This will be your dorm. You will share this space with three other roommates, feel free to report anything back to me," she said, her tall and commanding presence by her bouncing blond hair as she talked.

"Especially anything involving this one," she added, shooting a glance at Ellie. 

"Well," the guide grasped your arms, giving them a squeeze, "welcome to 'True Directions,' we'll fix you right up, dear!”

You gave a hesitant half-smile, trying to hide your discomfort. 

Returning your gesture with a bright smile, the guide nodded happily before leaving, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Silence. 

Clutching onto your suitcases, the silence became increasingly awkward, and you debated whether to speak up. Should you ask where to put your belongings? But the fear of annoying or bothering Ellie made you hesitant.

Fuck it.

"Um, excuse me, where can I—"

"There," Ellie interrupted, her tone nonchalant as she pointed toward a corner of the room, her gaze still not meeting yours.

Your eyes followed her gesture to an empty white dresser tucked away, starkly different from the others that were already occupied. Making your way towards the dresser, you took in the room once more. The overwhelming femininity was hard to ignore—pink walls, beds, and shelves adorned with stuffed animals. Setting your suitcase down with a thud, you unzipped it, the sound of the zipper echoing loudly in the silent room.

Opening the drawer, the scent of brand new furniture wafted across your nose, tickling it and nearly causing you to sneeze.

Ellie got up from her bed, pulling open her drawer with a tug. In it were an assortment of items—makeup, hair accessories, and jewelry jumbled together. Rummaging through it, Ellie let out a sharp exhale, finally finding something from the depths of the drawer.

Without a glance in your direction, she held out a ribbon and a few hair clips. "Here," she muttered.

Your eyes widened at the adorable accessories as she tossed them over to you. "Put your hair up or something. It's better not to have it in the way, especially during our routines.”

"Ah, thank you," you expressed, catching them. "Are these.. yours?"

"Yeah... unfortunately," Ellie responded dryly.

With a nod, you started to arrange your hair with the clips.

As you styled your hair, the weight of Ellie's gaze pressed against your back like a physical force. Every subtle movement you made was studied, from the way you lifted strands of hair to the careful twisting of the ribbon around the ponytail. Even the simple act of tucking a stray lock behind your ear felt intense.

What’s this girl's deal?

The intensity of her stare became almost suffocating, leaving your hands trembling slightly as you worked. Despite her focus only on your hair, the sensation of being under her gaze felt like she was peering into your soul.

Finally, Ellie broke the silence with a quiet, husky voice, her words cutting through the tension. "You need a mirror?"

Her gaze remained fixed on you, relentless.

"No," you managed to reply, attempting to be confident.

But the moment her voice echoed throughout the room, heat began rising to your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but hesitate. Her presence felt overwhelming, a mix of nerves, fear, and desire swirling within you, all under her attention.

“Hm..” Ellie replied, seeming more curious now. She uncrossed her arms and slowly walked over to you. You could hear the way Ellie’s footsteps made the floor creak as she walked.

"Hm?" you managed to utter as Ellie closed in on you, her presence surrounding you with every step she took. The breath from her lips brushed against the nape of your neck as she leaned in.

"You're missing a strand," Ellie said, her voice softer than before.

The sensation of her being so close, her breath teasing your skin. You wanted to turn around and face her.

Her closeness was so overwhelming.

As Ellie's hand brushed against your hair, a sharp shiver coursed through your spine, setting your heartbeat into a quick rhythm. Her touch lingered, fingers twirling strands of your hair, as she leaned in even closer, so suffocatingly close. It felt as though Ellie was on the verge of whispering something, her breath agonizingly near-

"Yo, Ellie!"

The tension in the room broke as Dina and Abby burst in, causing Ellie to let go of your hair and step back.

Their expressions shifted abruptly from excitement to surprise as they noticed you. Dina's curious gaze looked over, her head tilting in confusion, while Abby's cold stare pierced through you.

"You must be the new one," Abby remarked, her tone icy, her eyes never leaving you as if dissecting your very being.

"Y-yeah.. I am," you responded, finally finishing your hair.

Abby simply nodded in acknowledgment, while Dina chuckled to herself.

"Aw, the new girl is all nervous!" Dina's teasing remark was followed by a smirk and a playful wave of her hand. She shifted her attention to Ellie, observing her growing annoyance. Dina seemed to catch on to something, finding the situation amusing.

"Ooooh! Ellie was hitting on ya!" Dina's snickering only added to Ellie's frustration as she clenched her jaw tightly, arms crossed.

Abby, maintaining her silent observation, continued to stare at the both of you.

"Ah! no..she was just helping me with my hair," you replied, attempting to stop the teasing.

"Awh. Is that so?" Dina's teasing tone persisted as she continued to giggle, her gaze towards Ellie who remained annoyed.

Abby's gaze suddenly shifted as she walked towards you, gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch was surprisingly tender.

"There," she remarked softly, a smile gracing her lips, the gesture catching you off guard. It was so unexpected. "You had missed a strand."

Abby looked back at Ellie, a smirk on her lips, her eyes flickering as she made a mocking glance with her.

Suddenly, the camp director barged in, her authoritative voice vibrating throughout the room. "Ladies!" she commanded, making all the girls snap their attention towards the door where the camp director now stood.

Ellie groaned as soon as she heard that familiar voice.

"All of you, get out for morning exercise," the director ordered, her stern gaze scanning everyone. "Now."

With a swift turn, the camp director walked out of the room, the echo of her clicking heels fading as she left. Abby, Dina, and Ellie all groaned in unison, knowing what was to come. They made their way to their designated dressers, preparing to change into their gym clothes.

Amidst the shuffling of clothing, you voiced your confusion. "W-what are we doing?"

Abby scoffed at your question, a smirk on her lips. "Did Ellie not go through the routines and rules with you?"

You shook your head.

"Not surprising," she remarked before chuckling, "she always seems to get distracted-"

“We're doing morning cardio and stretching routines,” Ellie cut in, her voice clear and assertive, pulling out her sports bra and short shorts. “Your gym clothes are in your dresser.”

Abby bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. "Well, there you go.”

You nodded in understanding, “thanks..”

Walking to your dresser, you pulled open the top drawer, revealing a variety of outfits and uniforms, all varying shades of pink. The sight left your head spinning a bit as you realized this would be your life for the next couple of months.

As you began changing, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you. With hesitant movements, you peeled off your shirt and skirt, the fabric slipping from your skin with a soft rustle. All the while, you were aware of Abby and Ellie's eyes lingering on you.

 Abby's gaze, though subtle, was sharply observant, her eyes tracing up and down your body with an almost predatory glare. It was as if she was memorizing every curve and contour. Meanwhile, Ellie's attention was more focused, her gaze lingering on specific areas of your body, like your hips and chest. There was an intensity in her stare, a curiosity that was borderline intrusive.

Slap! 

With a sharp sting on your ass, a sudden jolt of surprise chilled through you, causing you to yelp. "You'll make us late at this pace!" Dina's voice rang out, her arm wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the view of Abby and Ellie.

"Ah! You're right," you exclaimed, quickly slipping into your gym clothes.

Dina gave you a quick grin before turning her attention towards Abby and Ellie. Squinting her eyes playfully, she shook her head slowly, teasingly disappointed in the two of them. Abby hurriedly looked away, pretending to be preoccupied with tying her shoelaces, while Ellie rolled her eyes.

───

As you and the other girls made your way to the track, you found yourselves walking together in a small group. Ellie and Abby led the way, showing no signs of slowing down despite your struggle to keep up. Meanwhile, Dina’s pace was slower, occasionally glancing at you.

"So, how'd you get caught?" Dina asked slyly, a mischievous look in her eyes.

You turned to look at her, taken aback by the sudden question. "What?"

"You were sent here for a reason," Dina said curiously, making Abby and Ellie turn their heads, intrigued to hear your response.

"I..don't think I want to share," you said, avoiding eye contact from feeling a bit nervous.

"Oh, come on!" Dina urged, now walking next to you, realizing your hesitance. "Don't be so shy. How about we tell you ours? Will that make you less embarrassed?"

"Hmm..alright," you agreed. Maybe learning about their experiences would help get to know them.

Excitedly, Dina clapped her hands together. "Okay, okay! I'll go first." She moved closer to you, her shoulder practically bumping into yours. "I got caught watching lesbian porn."

A snicker escaped Ellie's lips as she tried to hold back her laughter.

Dina shot a playful glare. "You have no right to laugh, El's."

"Doesn't make it any less funny," Ellie retorted.

Dina scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Since it’s sooo funny, you go then."

Ellie's eyes locked onto yours, her voice embarrassed. "I ordered a strap online, and it got delivered to the wrong address. To my fucking neighbor, Seth. Dude went ballistic and sent me here, said I needed to be controlled."

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as Ellie's words sank in, full of curiosity and intrigue. The mere idea of her wearing a strap sent a flow of sensations that pulsed throughout your body. Your throat became dry trying to visualize it. 

"Ab's! Your turn!" Dina interrupted excitedly, Abby's story was always her favorite.

Abby smirked, turning her gaze towards you. "Unlike Ellie, I got to use my strap," she remarked mischievously.

Ellie groaned at Abby'scomment, clearly unimpressed.

“I got caught fucking my father's assistant nurse with it.”

Dina squealed as she shook your arm excitedly. "Now THAT'S a coming out story!" she exclaimed.

Ellie shot Dina a glare, clearly annoyed by her reaction. With a scoff, she turned her head away, facing in the opposite direction.

Abby, on the other hand, smirked at Ellie's and playfully hit her back. "Aw, it's okay, El's," she said reassuringly.

"Okay, okay, tell us yours now," Dina urged eagerly, her and Abby's curious gazes fixed on you,

“Well..” you began, your hands fidgeting nervously as you mustered up the courage. “My parents walked in on me and my cheer captain…” You hesitated for a moment before continuing “...69’ing on the kitchen counter.” 

Ellie quickly snapped her head back to look at you. Dina and Abby’s eyes widened, completely startled.

“Y-yeah…” you confirmed, meeting the girls' shocked gazes. “Mid-squirt too…”

Ellie’s eyes widened as if they were going to pop. Dina’s jaw dropped, with her mouth slowly curving into a smirk, “You fucking win.”

───

"Alright, ladies," the head director announced, her voice carrying across the track, “forty-five minutes around the track, as per usual. Afterward, we hit the showers in preparation for cooking classes."

"Remember, ladies," she continued excitedly, "these skills aren't just beneficial, they also attract men! It's just another step closer to becoming 'normal'."

The moment the word "normal" left the director's lips, you noticed the collective eye rolls and groans from the other girls. Ellie's jaw tightened as she stared away, grumbling under her breath. Abby crossed her arms, completely unamused, while Dina couldn't help but snicker, lowering her face to hide her giggle.

With a sharp blow of the whistle, the director signaled the start of the morning run.

As you began your laps around the track, you couldn't help but notice the effortless speed and stamina of Ellie and the other girls. They seemed to glide around the track with ease.

Struggling to keep up, your legs began to burn. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you pushed yourself onward.

"Hey, you doing okay?" Abby asked.

"Ye..yeah..." you managed to reply between heavy breaths.

Abby arched an eyebrow, clearly seeing through you. "You do know we have about 20 more laps to go, right?"

Before you could respond, a sudden stumble sent you tumbling to the ground. Abby instinctively reached out to help, but her attempt only resulted in her losing her balance, causing her to trip and accidentally pull Ellie down with her.

Ellie hit the concrete hard, her knee taking the force of the fall. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her jaw tightly as pain shot through her scrapped knee. With all three of you on the ground, the sudden scene caused a chuckle from Dina. "Holy shit, you guys fell like bowling pins," she remarked.

"Shit, sorry El's-" Abby began to apologize.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Ellie yelled, her tone cold as she glared up at Abby.

Abby glared back at Ellie, her expression tense. "What-"

“Watch where you’re fucking going. It’s not that hard,” Ellie snarled, gritting her teeth as she noticed the large scrape on her knee.

“T-that was on me-" you added, feeling guilty for the accident.

Abby suddenly got up, her face contorted with anger as she looked down at Ellie. “I didn’t mean to, I-"

Ellie suddenly stood up too, her height making her have to look up at Abby. “I’m so fucking sick of you trying to assert something. It’s fucking annoying.”

Abby scoffed, “Yeah? I’m tired of your pussy fucking attitude.” She then moved closer towards Ellie, the sudden bump causing Ellie to sway a bit.

Ellie chuckled, tilting her head to the side before locking eyes with Abby. “Pussy, huh?” 

“You are what you fucking eat,” Abby snapped back, her tone sharp.

You got up from the concrete floor, every inch of your body feeling the lingering sting from the sudden impact. “She didn’t mean to, I tripped and-” you tried to explain, but before you could finish, Ellie raised her fist. Her initial target being Abby, who managed to step back just in time to avoid the blow. Unfortunately, you stepped further, positioning yourself between them, but before you could react, Ellie's fist mistakenly met your nose.

“Holy shit!” Dina yelled, her hand covering her mouth in shock.

You felt the impact jolt through your body as you stumbled back, finding stability in Abby's embrace as her arms wrapped around you from behind.

“Fuck, I am so sorry-" Ellie began to apologize, her voice filled with remorse.

“Fucking really?!?” Abby yelled, frustrated as she stepped you to the side. “You fucking hit her!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Ellie yelled back, her tone defensive as she tried to explain herself.

“Didn’t mean to? You punched her!” 

“G-guys, I’m fine-" you said, your voice strained through the pain, attempting to step towards them again, holding your throbbing nose.

“I was clearly trying to punch your bitch ass!” Ellie yelled.

“Oh yeah?” Abby raised her fist, aiming for Ellie, her knuckles clenched as she intended to give her a piece of her mind for hurting you and being such a brat. However, as you stepped in between them once again, Abby's fist accidentally hit you, the impact shocking you and causing a blur in your vision.

“Oh my god!” Dina yelled, her eyes widening in horror as she flinched.

You stumbled backward, the world blurring around you as you tripped over your loose shoelace, your body rushing towards the concrete floor once again, jarring your senses and sending a wave of pain through your body.

Abby took her hands to her chest, her mouth covered in disbelief.

“fuck, fuck, fuck! Are you okay?” Ellie exclaimed, her voice filled with concern as she quickly knelt down beside you.

Your nose was now bleeding, droplets of blood scattering across the concrete floor like raindrops. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mixing with the scent of sweat. You winced as pain shot through your face, throbbing relentlessly.

“I think my nose is broken…” you managed to say, your words muffled by the blood dripping down your face.

“Now nobody can sit on her face,” Dina groaned.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

idk if this counts for headcanon, but since Harveston event is here

How would boys react to their girlfriend casually walking by on the snow and then she takes next step the snow collapses and she gets stuck in the snow, her fohead bearly vissible above it, and she can't get out 😂? ( it's something that happend to me and it was hollirious to me and my familly)

for Idia, Jade, Sebek, Epel and since I have one more lets add Malleus (even though he isn't originally there 😂)

also ..if it's not a problem could I just ask if my previous asks made it in ? I was just wondering if I didn't submit them past the time when asks were open 😅

Epel Felmier:

Epel knows the perils of snow banks more than anyone, having to dig his way out of a few when he was younger. He’s still surprised to be on the other end of it, with you in view one second then gone the next. He seemed more panicked than you, the trapped, displaying snow as quickly as he could to lead you to freedom. He sighed in relief when he confirmed you were just fine, seeming nervous that you might not like the area as much because of the experience.

Idia Shroud:

Idia is immediately alarmed when he doesn’t feel you at his side, head whipping around as he wondered if you finally decided to break up with him and leave him in an icy tundra to deal with his feelings. When he looks down and sees you buried deep in the snow his panic gained more experience, leveling up as he already concluded you were suffering from hypothermia, never meant to feel the warmth of the sun again. He has enough sense to help you out, only greeted with your nonsensical question of what might happen if him and his hair were the ones buried in the snow.

Jade Leech:

Jade would check if you were okay, the grin on his face betraying his concerned tone. He wondered how dangerous snow could be, contemplating unnecessary questions like if someone could drown in snow if left there long enough or if the cold would get to them first. Once you’re safe he stated the cold isn’t that bad, and that it was good practice before he dragged you into the depths of the ocean (to meet his parents, of course).

Malleus Draconia:

Malleus at least showed enough care to pull you out of your icy prison before laughing at you. Thankfully, seeing a smile on his face and hearing his deep chuckle distracted you entirely from being embarrassed. You’d probably dive in headfirst again if you’d get the same reaction out of him. Malleus offered his arm, telling you to stick close as he didn’t want to lost you in another snow pile.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek nearly looked you over but did a double take as snow shifted, calling your name in shock. He, no hesitation, reached into the snow to hoist you out, not even considering the use of magic. He proceeded to brush you off, pushing all snow to the ground until you looked fresh, like you had just walked outside. It was nice that he cared but you still felt embarrassed when he scolded you about watching your step.

[i-turned-into-the-stone]

Smut dump 1: Wonyoung

Rough idea: Unfortunately, I lost the ask. It's about helping Wonyoung find the toilet at an event cause she wants to pee. I think it's pretty much something like that.

Trigger warning: noncon and piss

As the head supervisor, I wandered around the backstage area of the venue, keeping an eye out for any issues during the Miu Miu show event. That's when Wonyoung, one of the attendees, rushed up to me looking frantic.

"Sir, I really need to find the restroom. I'm about to pee myself!" she pleaded, squirming slightly.

I eyed her slim frame in the short skirt that complimented her slender long legs and curves. An evil grin crossed my face as I grabbed her arm firmly. "Don't worry, I'll show you where it is."

I pulled the protesting girl down a dimly lit hallway, away from the chaos. Pushing her against the wall, I pressed my body against hers, pinning her there.

"Please sir, what are you doing?! I really have to go!" Wonyoung whimpered, trying to squirm free.

"Oh, you'll get to go alright," I growled, running my hands over her trembling form. I hiked up her skirt, exposing her panty-covered pussy. She gasped as I ripped them off, tossing the shredded fabric aside.

I unbuckled my belt, freeing my thick, veiny cock. Without warning, I shoved the entire length deep inside her tight, unprepared pussy. Wonyoung cried out in a mix of pain.

As I ruthlessly pounded her tight pussy, her cries echoing down the hallway. I didn't care if anyone heard - I was going to use this petite slut's body for my pleasure.

"Please, it hurts!" she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. But her sopping wet cunt told a different story as I relentlessly slammed into her depths over and over.

With one hand, I grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. With the other, I groped and mauled her perky little tits through the flimsy shirt material. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent as I ravaged her helpless form.

"You like that, you little whore?" I snarled, increasing the brutal pace. "Your pussy's gripping my cock so tight. Such a needy slut."

Wonyoung could only respond with desperate whimpers and cries as I used her. Her makeup ran in streaks down her cheeks from the torrent of tears. But her tight cunt clenched and throbbed around my invading member, betraying her body's twisted arousal.

I released her hair to grab her hips instead, pulling her fragile form onto my pistoning cock again and again. The sounds of flesh smacking together and her muffled sobs filled the air, mixing with the thick, musky scent of her ravaged pussy.

I glanced over and saw our reflection in a nearby mirror - the sight of me violently slamming into Wonyoung's helpless body from behind was deliciously depraved. I grinned wickedly at her tear-streaked, agonized expression in the glass.

"Look at yourself, you little slut," I growled, giving her hair another harsh yank to force her gaze towards the mirror. "Getting used like the cock sleeve you are. Fucking take it!"

I increased the harsh pace even more, my hips smacking loudly against her ass with each punishing thrust. Wonyoung's body shook from the force of my assault, her pert tits slightly bouncing under the thin shirt.

In the mirror, I watched her tight, hairless pussy stretching obscenely around my shaft as I buried myself to the hilt inside her repeatedly. Her swollen little clit peeked out from between her flushed folds with each stroke.

"You love getting that tight cunt ruined, don't you whore?" I mocked, giving her ass a stinging slap that left a hand print.

Wonyoung could only respond with a choked sob, her eyes rolling back as I relentlessly punched her cervix. Her nails scrabbled uselessly at the wall, trying and failing to find purchase as I rutted into her abused slit like a feral beast.

I felt my balls tightening as Wonyoung's convulsing pussy milked my cock. With a growl, I slammed my full length into her battered depths one final time and unleashed a thick, potent load. Spurt after spurt of my hot seed flooded her womb, painting her velvety walls white.

"Take it all, you fucking slut!" Giving her ass a few more harsh slaps as I emptied my balls inside her.

Wonyoung's only response was a hoarse, broken whimper as my cum seeped out around my still-buried shaft, trickling down her thighs. Her trembling body went limp against the wall, thoroughly used and defiled.

Pulling out with a lewd squelch, I snickered at the wrecked mess of her gaping, cum-dripping pussy. I tucked my spent cock back into my pants and straightened my clothes, not caring about the sobbing, ruined girl sliding to the floor.

"Clean yourself up, slut," I spat, turning on my heel and striding away, leaving Wonyoung to try and collect herself in the dim hallway, her insides still flooded with my seed.

As I walked away from Wonyoung's crumpled, abused form, I heard a soft hissing sound behind me. Glancing back, I saw a puddle spreading out from between her thighs - this desperate little slut had lost control and started pissing herself right there on the floor.

"Aw, did the little whore finally get to go potty?" turning back to watch the pathetic display.

Wonyoung could only whimper in humiliation and shame as her piss gushed out, soaking her thighs and the floor beneath her. My thick load slowly oozed out of her used cunt as well, mixing with the growing puddle.

I strolled back over and grabbed a fistful of her hair again, forcing her to look up at me with those big, haunted eyes. "Look at you, you fucking disgusting mess. Pissing yourself like a baby after getting that tight little cunt wrecked."

Giving her head a harsh shake, I shoved her face down into the warm puddle, making her choke and sputter on the mixture of her own piss and my cum. "Drink it up, slut. Clean up your fucking mess."

Wonyoung gagged and sobbed, but had no choice but to obey as I ground her face into the foul puddle. By the time I finally released her hair, she was an utterly broken, defiled mess - covered in piss, cum, and ruined makeup, her holes still lewdly gaping and leaking my seed.

With one last contemptuous sneer, I turned and strode away, leaving the whimpering wreck of a girl to wallow in her own filth.

Tried writing in 1st person POV for the first time so let me know if you guys want more 1st POV in the future smut. It's easier to write too, tbh.

[thatfandomslut]

Ultimate Betrayal

Regina George x Reader, Janis Imi'ike x Sibling!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: angry Janis Imi'ike, betraying a sibling, cussing, arguing, in depth make-out session (including a moan from Regina)

Request:

can i request regina x janis sibling fic? where they’re lowkey hiding their relationship

Mean Girls Requests are open.

(Y/n) Imi'ike knew that she was far too deep into whatever troubled waters she had found herself in. But she was also now at the point where she didn't care too much either. Instead, she ignored the voice in her head, telling her what she was doing was a bad idea, as she was pushed against the wall by Regina George herself. Their lips clashed violently as Regina's fingers found themselves tangled into (Y/n)'s hair. (Y/n)'s fingers looped themselves in Regina's pant buckle loops as she pulled her closer. It was times like these, where they were making out, that (Y/n) forgot who she even was.

Being the younger sister of Janis Imi'ike, the most outspoken person at school, was not an easy task. Not when Janis and Regina became enemies during middle school. Of course, (Y/n) was fully aware of who Regina was and what she had done. In fact, when Regina first began her pursuit of (Y/n)'s heart, she was rejected various times until she finally convinced (Y/n) that she had changed. Despite this change, Janis and Regina were not friends, and (Y/n) found herself lying awake at night, guiltily recounting the fact that hours before coming home, in the janitor's closet, her lips were taken in by Regina's.

(Y/n) knew that every time she slipped into the janitor's closet to meet with Regina, every after-school hang-out that occurred after long drives far from town, was her actively betraying her sister. She tried to stop seeing Regina several times, but couldn't help but miss sneaking over to Regina's and slipping into her bed at night on the weekends. Regina had her completely head over heels, and vice versa, Regina was just as enamored by (Y/n) as she was by her.

Regina attempted to apologize to Janis for what she had done. She wanted to make sure that there was a clean slate to help relieve all of (Y/n)'s guilty thoughts. However, Janis could not find it in her to forgive her. Regina understood, of course, but after several attempts to make things right, she forced herself to stop worrying about it. (Y/n) had seen all the attempts and she even tried talking to Janis. Janis wasn't buying any of it, though. That was why they were forced to hide what they had in the confines of a small janitorial closet at school. But, admittedly, it was all becoming too much for both of them.

Regina and (Y/n) became lost in themselves as Regina deepened the kiss, her tongue dragging on (Y/n)'s bottom lip. (Y/n) allowed Regina access. Both of them were too engrossed in each other to hear the janitor's door creak open, revealing a shocked Cady and Janis (who seemingly had the same idea as them). It took a moment for Janis to fully process what she was seeing, but it was the soft moan from Regina when her teeth clashed with (Y/n)'s that finally knocked Janis out of her trance.

"What the fuck," Janis questioned, her hand dropping from Cady's. She took silent satisfaction in watching (Y/n) and Regina jump apart from each other, fear adorning their features. Cady looked at them awkwardly as she rubbed her arm up and down, not knowing if she should say anything. Regina moved to step in front of (Y/n) before (Y/n) took the lead on being protective towards her. Janis's look of shock morphed into a scowl, hurt pooling in her brown eyes. "I can't believe my sister would be here making out with the person who ruined my life."

There was a brief moment of guilt that passed through (Y/n) before she crossed her arms. "Don't do that, Janis. She has apologized several times, and she has tried to make it better. She isn't excusing what she has done, but she has made efforts to make it right with you." (Y/n) defended Regina, causing Janis to scoff loudly. She pondered for a moment on whether she should just storm out, but instead, she stayed there, narrowing her eyes at her sibling. "I know you two had a rough past, but you need to move on. Please, for me. I know I hurt you by keeping this a secret, but it's because I knew you'd be mad if you found out." (Y/n) felt like she was only making it worse for herself at that moment. She didn't know how to make it better.

Janis's fists clenched for a moment before she breathed in and out when Cady placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Out of everyone in this entire fucking school, why Regina George? You know she hurt me, but you chose her." Janis said, her voice trembling.

"She rejected me a lot," Regina spoke up, causing Janis to look the blonde's way in slight shock that she was speaking. She almost forgot that Regina was there. Hell, if Cady hadn't touched her shoulder, she would've forgotten her girlfriend was there, too. "She told me that she hated what I did to you, and truthfully; I hated what I did to you, too. So, I tried to make it better. But there is only so much trying and growing a person can do. I can't force you to like me, but (Y/n) can't force herself to not feel her feelings either. And we tried to not speak and to not date, but the more we tried, the harder it got."

Janis shook her head as she took a step back. "I'm sorry, but I'm not ready to forgive you, Regina. But, I'm not sorry for feeling betrayed. I can't talk to you right now." Janis walked out, and Cady sent them both a sympathetic look and waved awkwardly before following Janis out. (Y/n) wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks as Regina held her. Even as Janis was storming off, she couldn't find it in herself to feel guilty for falling in love anymore.

[burst-of-iridescent]

What would change in the Zutara ship/dynamic and/or Zuko and Katara individually if Zuko didn't betray Katara in Ba Sing Se and immediately chose her?

i think most canon divergent zutara fanfictions get it right: they'd probably become close friends in no time, and develop a dynamic similar to what they have in the ember island players. but there's a reason this scenario is best left to fanon - as fun as it would be to see more zutara bonding in the first half of book three, there's always something lost for something gained, and in this case it would likely come at the cost of the depth and intimacy they developed in canon through the WAT and TSR arcs.

it is vitally important to their relationship development that katara gets to be deeply, righteously angry at zuko, and particularly that she goes on her field trip to find yon rha while they're still not on friendly terms. not only does her anger bar her from instinctually falling into a caretaking role with zuko as she does with most of the gaang at one point or another, allowing her to be cared for rather than being the carer, it also frees her from feeling like she needs to fit into any perceived image he might have of her. katara makes it clear to zuko that she owes him nothing - least of all her friendship, and everything that entails.

and it is this very lack of obligation that gives katara the freedom to be wholly and entirely herself. people always point to how katara behaves "uncharacteristically" in the southern raiders to prove that zuko is a bad influence, but the truth is that the way she acts in tsr is an inherent part of who she is. katara can be cold, furious and vengeful just as she can be warm, compassionate and friendly, and the fact that she can freely show both sides to zuko isn't because he's pushing her to be someone she's not, but because she has no need to live up to an idealised version of herself.

this would likely still apply to a degree in a no-betrayal au (tsr would happen in any version of book 3, just because it's so significant to katara's arc), but i find it probable that katara might be more hesitant about bringing zuko along, or less willing to bloodbend before him so readily. katara has to witness zuko's lowest point before she allows him to see hers. she has to take her dark-night-of-the-soul journey with someone she knows has neither the right nor the willingness to condemn her choices, in order to be able to focus entirely on herself and what she needs. very telling that she doesn't ask aang, her future husband, to go with her for support.

it's because zuko allows himself to be a whetstone for the blade of her fury, because he cares enough to find out why, because he tries to help when she's given him no reason to do so, because he stands shoulder-to-shoulder with her at her darkest, most conflicted hour without forcing her to bear the burden of caring what he thinks or feels about it, that katara is able to forgive and befriend him. it is because they see each other at their highest and lowest moments that they're able to have the deepest and most intimate relationship of anyone in the gaang. and none of that would've happened without the betrayal in ba sing se.

after all, love is brightest in the dark.

[andy-15-07]

Beneath the Veil of Fate

masterlist ! pairing Feyd-Rautha x reader

Dune Masterlist

The desert sands of Arrakis stretched endlessly beneath the harsh sun, bearing witness to a clash that would shape the fate of the universe. Beneath the scorching heat, Y/N stood on the sidelines, her heart torn between loyalty and love as she watched her husband, Feyd Rautha, engage in combat with the legendary Paul Muad'Dib.

Spectators gathered around the arena, their voices hushed in anticipation as the two warriors faced off. Feyd, fueled by his thirst for power, exuded confidence as he prepared to confront his adversary. Paul, the mysterious and enigmatic figure known as the Kwisatz Haderach, stood tall and unwavering, his eyes betraying a depth of knowledge far beyond his years.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as the battle commenced, her gaze fixed on the swirling dust kicked up by the combatants' movements. She knew that regardless of the outcome, the consequences would be dire. But she never imagined that her heart would be torn between the man she loved and the cause he fought for.

As the fight raged on, it became increasingly clear that Feyd was outmatched. Paul's movements were fluid and precise, his every strike calculated to exploit his opponent's weaknesses. Despite Feyd's best efforts, he found himself unable to gain the upper hand against the formidable Muad'Dib.

Y/N's heart ached as she watched Feyd falter, his once-confident demeanor giving way to desperation. She knew that he was fighting not just for himself, but for the future of House Harkonnen and all they had built on Arrakis. But even as she wished for his victory, she couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Feyd, be careful!" Y/N called out, her voice barely audible over the din of the crowd. Her words were a desperate plea, a silent prayer for his safety amidst the chaos of battle.

But Feyd seemed not to hear her, his focus consumed by the struggle before him. Every blow he landed was met with a counterstrike from Paul, each one more devastating than the last. Y/N could see the toll it was taking on him, both physically and emotionally, as the battle wore on.

Then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity, Paul saw his opening. With a lightning-fast movement, he disarmed Feyd and brought him to his knees, his blade poised at his throat.

The crowd erupted into cheers as Paul emerged victorious, his triumph cementing his status as the savior of Arrakis. But for Y/N, there was no joy in the moment, only heartache and despair as she watched her husband defeated before her eyes.

"Feyd…" she whispered, her voice barely a whisper as she rushed to his side. She knelt beside him, her hands reaching out to cradle his face as tears welled in her eyes.

Feyd met her gaze, his own eyes filled with a mixture of pain and resignation. "I'm sorry, my love," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd. "I have failed you."

But Y/N shook her head, her heart breaking as she leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. "No, Feyd," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "You haven't failed me. You've always fought with honor and courage, and I am proud to stand by your side, no matter what."

And in that moment, as they faced defeat together, Y/N knew that their love was stronger than any conflict, their bond unbreakable in the face of adversity. Though the battle may have been lost, their love would endure, a beacon of hope in the darkness of uncertainty.

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our girl – Part 1

Azriel x Cassian x Reader angst

Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.

Word count: 5k

Super angsty IC dynamics, little bit of violence/blood. Injured reader.

--------

“It was my right!!” Your voice was shrill, breaking from the volume – but you couldn't care less.

“I understand that Y/N, but I have a duty to my court. And to you, to keep you safe.” Your Highlord was unmoved, professional and stoic, your anger washing over him like water against stone.

The thud of your heart was in your ears, the tips of them hot, and you were sure the rest of your family could hear it too. You tried to breath, to think, to let yourself see the logic in Rhys’s decision to let Azriel make the kill over you.

But it was all bullshit.

“He was mine to kill,” you seethed, your voice unrecognisable, an almost growl from the deep part of your throat that strained at you not to cry.

“Try to understand–”

“No!” you spat, marching up to the High Lord, your finger pointed at your chest. The rest of your family stiffened as you approached, untrusting of what you would do next. You could see Azriel’s shadows run down his frame, even though the male hadn't moved from his formal stance by the door. He kept his hands clasped behind his back, still unable to look you in the eye since the moment you had barged into the room. Feyre was biting the nail on her thumb, her face pained and distressed as she watched you march up to her mate. But it was Cassian who showed the least amount of trust, taking a step closer, ready to jump in if - or rather when he had to.

“She was my sister Rhysand, MY SISTER! Not yours, not anyone else's here. He took her in innocence, and his death was mine to mark.”

Rhysand’s brow clenched. “It had to be this way,” he offered softly.

You scoffed, running shaky hands through your hair as you paced backwards. “You expect me to believe that?” Sarcasm oozed from you as easily as the aggression. “I’ve only ever asked you for one thing Rhysand, one thing! Meryl’s murder was unjust, and you promised to train me to avenge her! You promised I would be the one to kill that male!”

Rhysand took a deep breath, his violet eyes pained, but his head remained high. “I’m sorry Y/N. It’s as I said, you’re not ready to execute a mission this big, and Alvar had intel on our court that we could not risk exposing.”

“I have worked my ass off for years for you Rhys. I have trained in hail, rain and shine, I’ve completed mission after mission with no complaint. I have fought for you, lied and stolen and killed for you. I have given my life to avenging Meryl, and you have the audacity to tell me I’m not ready?”

“I know it’s hard to hear. There’s no changing that you didn't have clearance.”

“From who?”

“Cassian and Azriel.”

And that was the last thing you heard before your heart broke in two.

The males you trusted most in this world, the two that had broken your walls, taught you to trust again, trained you and nurtured you, the very beings you loved most in this world,– had not only known of the task, but had been the ones to stop you from fulfilling your life’s mission?

They knew the depths of your reasoning for joining the Inner Circle, for training as a Velarian spy. They had known your one true desire to find Alvar Ashwood – Hybern’s lead assassin – and make him pay for the innocent life that he took.

You looked between the two of them now, your mouth agape as you tried to find the words, or even a sound that could come close enough to the anguish you felt. But no sound found you, even your shaking had stopped. Rhys was saying something, but his words were a world away, muffled and muted as heart-wrenching shock consumed you.

Cassian looked back at you with broken, pleading eyes. Azriel's head hung low in shame.

You would never forgive them for this.

“I-I.” You stopped yourself, gulping. You had nothing left to say. Nodding slowly, silent tears of realisation rolled down your cheeks. One thing was clear – there was no one left that you could trust.

“I’m sorry you’re hurt Y/N, truly. Please, take some time to rest, to process. We’ll discuss this further when you’re ready, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Rhys’s stance had softened at your tears, his palms open as he dared to try and slip through your mental shields to sooth you.

Gritting your teeth, you slammed your walls up as high as possible, shutting him out and throwing him from the outskirts of your mind. You whipped your head back to your High Lord, a snarl ready at your lips as you took another stride towards him.

Cassian jumped into action then, stopping you with two large hands on either of your shoulders, his back to his Rhys as he blocked your path.

“Hey, hey, how about we go talk about this outside, ok?”

“Get off me,” you spat, shaking off his hold as you tried to eye Rhys over his shoulder.

Feyre had joined her mate now, their arms linked as they stared at you with pure shock. Neither of them had anticipated just how deeply this decision would cut.

Giving up against Cassian’s hold, you looked between both of them, their figures becoming a blur as tears welled in your eyes. “How could you do this to me?” you broke, your face crumpling. “I trusted you, all of you!”

Cassian pulled you close to his chest as he walked you from the room. “Shh, its alright, c’mon, come with me.”

You had nothing left to give. No energy, no fight, certainly nothing that could resist Cassian’s strength as he dragged you from that room, weeping.

You weren't even sure how you made it to the gardens, but the bite cold of the night shocked you enough to push the General off of you.

Bending at your waist, you held yourself up by your knees, your breath shaky and uneven as you struggled to breath in between sobs. Bile rose in your mouth, and you were unsure if you were going to be sick.

“Shh, its alright Y/N. Just breath.” Cassian’s large hand framed and soothed your back.You wanted so badly to give in to him, to throw yourself at his chest and let him hold you while you cried. But no – he had betrayed you, just like the rest.

“D-don’t touch me,” you managed to gasp.

“Alright sweetheart, alright.”

“And don't call me that!” Having regained a steady breath, you straightened to look at him, disgust seeping from your expression as your eyes darted between his. “You knew?”

Cassian sighed, closing his eyes and dropping his head slightly. “Yeah, I knew.”

“How could you not tell me?”

Another sigh from the General. “We knew you’d go after him if you found out.”

You blinked back at Cassian, biting your lip as you shook your head in disbelief.

“I know it might not make sense right now doll, but we did it for your own good.”

You shook your head faster, your frown deepening as you stepped further away from your once friend. “No, no no Cassian! No! There is no excuse!”

“I’m sorry you’re hurting Y/N, really, I am. I know what it feels like to lose someone you love, to need to avenge them.”

Your eyes narrowed. “That’s right Cass, you do. So where was our family to lie and deceive you all those months you spent slashing and killing to avenge your mother?”

Cassian’s eye softened as he took a deep breath. “You know that is the deepest regret of my life.”

“At least the decision was yours,” you spat, turning your heel for the gates at the back of the gardens.

Cassian was on your tail. “Please, Y/N. We did it out of care for your safety, try to understand.” You kept a stubborn chin forward, picking up your pace as you sought any kind of exit from this Gods-forsaken home that had once been your haven.

You had finally reached the gates, magic willing them to open on their own accord. You steered straight ahead – to the thick of the woods that bordered the house

“Where are you going?” Cassian asked.

You didn't answer the General. Before you, your destination lay clear.

“Y/N. The woods are dangerous.”

You scoffed, your pace and direction unchanged. A strong hand caught your wrist.

“Get off me Cassian,” you snarled.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I can't let you.”

“I said get off!”

Cassian snatched his hand back, a sharp breath drawn as he winced in pain. Your power – that unpredictable, uncontrollable current of energy now swarmed your skin like an electric coating. It was moments like this that your gift found you, unpredictable and dangerous, much like yourself. Surely part of the reason your family had decided you weren't good enough to find and kill Alvar on your own.

You had no room in your heart to care if you hurt Cassian. This was your window to flee, so you did, escaping him and heading to the depths of the woods.

————

The woods were crisp and dark, the usual brilliant array of stars hidden by tree tops. But you didn't care, your own discomfort numbed from the sheer rage that fuelled your every step.

Your breath was a smoky puff against the cold, twigs and branches crunching underneath the stomp of your boots while circular thoughts reeled in your mind, over and over again.

Rhysand had ordered Azriel to kill Alvar. Cassian and Azriel didn’t give you clearance and kept the mission a secret. Alvar was dead. You would never avenge your sister.

It was done. It was over. The last tether to your sister, buried forever. Everything you had worked for, the one motivation that kept you from falling apart at her death, that got you out of bed on those days when grief was an excruciating ache on your stomach – gone in an instant. And the people you loved the most  were to blame.

Deep within your turmoil of thoughts, the shadows that slinked over your footprints went unnoticed, and the figure that flew overhead amiss.

The sound of a bubbling brook pricked your fae ears. You decided to follow it – perhaps a sip of cold water, or running your hands through a stream might calm the energy that still zapped at your skin.

Sure enough, not a short walk away was the brook. The water trickled down into a large pool, the tree tops cleared as moonlight danced in the reflection of the water. Under any other circumstance, you would have found this setting to be beautiful.

You bought shaking hands to cup at the stream, wincing as the cold stung at your power. But the liquid was quick to sooth you, and your spark began to fizzle as you bought your hand to your mouth, drinking intently.

After a few more sips, you sat back at the bank of the pool, closing your eyes as heavy breaths pushed through the ache in your chest. The sound of a small splash of water had you opening your eyes, and you jumped as unfeeling, black ones stared back at you from the centre of the pool.

A sickly pale face watched you unblinking, its figure still beneath the water from the nose down. Adrenaline was quick to fuel you to get the hell out of there, but you also knew better.

This was a kelpie. And it was too late to run.

The kelpie moved silently beneath the water, wading its way towards you. You took the few moments you had to scramble to your feet, patting yourself for anything to defend yourself with. Fuck – you hadn't a weapon on you.

Reaching the edge of the bank now, it stood on its long limbs, water trickling off its sickly figure, its own long black hair blending with the reeds that clung to its frame.

“Are you a royal?” it grinned, its pointed teeth yellow and rotted.

You forced a steady voice, calling on your power you so often stifled. “No,” was all you said, staring the creature down.

The kelpie ran an insidious tongue along its teeth, churning a nauseous feeling in your stomach. “Then why do you smell of it?”

You blinked – you hadn't realised you carried the scent of your family with you too. Perhaps a kelpie’s scent was more heightened?

“They are my family. Unrelated.” you explained, buying yourself more time for your power to gather. “They’ll fetch for me soon,” you lied.

The kelpie hissed and grinned at once, walking closer towards you. You took a few steps back, keeping your distance.

“You smell…,” the kelpie paused, its awful nostrils flaring against its face. “Delicious.”

“You best leave. They’ll kill you if you harm me,” you replied quickly, cursing yourself for the fear that you knew now tinged your scent. The kelpie caught it too, its grin growing wider.

“But I’m starrrrved,” it drawled, lowering its look to you. “I’m afraid I cannot contain myself, even if I tried.” A sickly chuckle racked through its chest.

You gulped, sizing up the creature in front of you. Ordinarily, you knew you could take down someone of his size. But you were without your weapons, and your power was unreliable at the best of times. If it took you in the water, you were sure as dead. Begging to the Gods, you clenched your fists, willing your power to find you in any shape or form.

“Any last words, non-royal?” it cackled, readying itself to attack.

You didn't have a chance to respond as shadows flooded around you, blue siphons glowing among them. The kelpie yelped and howled, and as the darkness cleared you saw its pale figure pinned to the ground.

“Are you alright?” Azriel was before you, his hands gripped at both your arms. Your eyes were wide with shock as you took him in. He had followed you?

The kelpie was deceivingly strong, and fought against his shadows, freeing itself quickly. It screeched as it lunged for you both, a darkened claw swinging for Azriel’s back. You shoved the Shadowsinger aside, the kelpie’s claws slashing across your arm as you yelped in pain. Blood began to pour from your new wound, and the kelpie hissed too, having being struck by your power on contact.

Azriel was on the kelpie in an instant, a blur shadows and muscle before you spotted the glint of truth teller. The next thing you heard was the kelpie’s final howl.

Its mouth agape, the kelpie bled black blood, crawling back to the depths of the pool, choosing to die in its element. Neither you or Azriel stopped it.

Azriel was panting, his breathing loud as the final sign of life from the kelpie bubbled to the surface of the water. You stayed still with shock.

Hazel eyes were before you now, scanning you over.

“Your arm,” Azriel said, touching you gingerly.

“I’m fine,” you said with a distant voice, your mind still with the hideous creature that attacked you. Your forearm was warm with your own blood as it gathered at your fingertips before dripping to the ground.

“Let’s get you to a healer.”

It was that instruction, that order, that snapped you out of your trance. You had heeded and trusted that voice for far too long. And in the end, it had betrayed you.

You snatched your arm away from Azriel, scowling as you met his eyes. “Do not tell me what to do.”

Azriel levelled a look at you. “This is not a regular wound, Y/N. You know a kelpie’s claw is laced with poison.”

You gritted your teeth, ignoring the burning sensation quickly spreading across your body, or the reel in your vision. How convenient that you so desperately needed his help.

“I’ll see to it myself,” you snapped, glaring deep into the Shadowsinger’s eyes. A muscle feathered in his jaw, Azriel’s tell-sign of irritation. He was far less patient than his brothers.

You made to step around him, before a strong arm circled your waist, pulling you back. Too weak to fight him off, a scarred hand covered your mouth to mute your yell of protest. Instead a quick rush of air filled your lungs as the forest folded around you, quickly revealing an infirmary wing.

Shoving yourself from Azriel’s hold the moment you landed, you stumbled forward, finding balance by clinging to the edge of an empty cot. A set of healers rushed to you, grabbing your arms and holding you up.

“A kelpie’s claw,” Azriel said before either of them could ask the question, one of the healer’s dashing for the antidote. “Where is Madja?”

“She does not work nights,” the healer’s voice was loud in your ear as you clung to her, barely able to stand. A small groan escaped you, the fire from the kelpie’s poison burning through your veins, your mobility slowing with every second.

“Fetch for her, please,” Azriel instructed, taking your limp body from the healer and placing you in the cot. A vial was bought to your lips then, the contents inside giving off a putrid smell. You jerked your head stubbornly, but the vial was tipped further against your mouth.

“Drink,” Azriel ordered, his cold hand lacing through your hair and pushing at the back of your head. You had no chose, swallowing the liquid while you still could. The fire in your veins began to dull, and you breathed, thankful for the quick relief.

“Good,” the Shadowsinger said approvingly. You hated that affirmation, but were too weak to show it.

The healers dotted around you, placing cold rags on your face and stitching your wound. Azriel watched, his arms folded and face etched with concern. Uncontrollable shakes racked through your body, your muscles jerking with pain and exhaustion.

Falling in and out of consciousness, you were too dazed to note Madja’s arrival, and with her, Cassian.

“What happened?” Cassian asked his brother, his eyes panicked.

“A kelpie,” Azriel said tightly.

Cassian clenched his eyes shut, punching the bridge of her nose. “She got away from me. I didn't want to chase her, she was already distraught.”

“I was tracking her too. I should have intervened sooner,” Azriel responded, his eyes not leaving you as a deeper frown settled on his face.

After a quick check of your vitals and words with her healers, Madja approached the two.“The antidote is working. She’ll recover soon.”

“She still looks sickly?” Cassian questioned, looking past the healer at your sagged and sweaty body.

“That is what I wanted to talk to you both about. Y/N is carrying symptoms of something else I can't place. Do either of you know if she was involved in a foreign mission lately, perhaps something of high risk or stress?”

The brothers shared a look before Azriel responded. “Not exactly Madja, but she… received some bad news today.”

“She was very upset,” Cassian added.

Madja nodded slowly, tutting softly. “Whatever has happened, it’s manifesting physically. She’s weaker than usual, and will need to rest for a few days. I suggest keeping her here, where we can tend to her.”

“Perhaps we can bring her home Madja. Would you see to her there?” Azriel asked, his arms crossing tighter. Illyrian’s being preternaturally possessive, he preferred you at home where he could keep a closer eye on you, help even.

“The choice is Y/N’s really. Let me do what I can while she rests, I’ll call for you when she wakes.” The brother’s nodded, making to leave the wing.

“Madja,” Cassian half turned, grabbing the healer by her arm. “Please, just, tell her we’re sorry.”

With a small frown, Madja reluctantly agreed.

————

When you awoke, you expected it to be light. Instead, the infirmary was dim, the soft glow of fae light warming the medical wing around you.

Memories from the night before returned, your stomach churning at the thought. The kelpie, hurting Cassian, the fight with your family. Your heart clenched as you were reminded – they had betrayed you, and you could no longer trust them.

Groaning as you turned to your side, you felt around for anything to catch the bile rising in your throat. You luckily landed on a pan, what little remained in your stomach hurled up as your gut clenched and heaved.

Madja entered at the sound, rubbing soothing pats on your back and taking the pan away when you had finished.

You fell back onto the pillows, your body clammy and weak. “What’s wrong with me?” you asked her as she checked your breathing.

“You were struck by a kelpie. Although your wounds are healing well.”

You looked at the ceiling, nodding as you recalled the horrific event. It was hard enough to almost die at the hands of a creature like that, but your heart ached at the thought that Azriel had saved you, yet you never wanted to see his face again.

“It would seem there is something else that plagues your mind, child.”

You looked at Madja now, blinking away the tears that were quickly building.

“Your family mentioned some kind of distressing news?”

Closing your lids, a silent tear rolled from each of your eyes. You merely nodded, your hands quickly brushing away the evidence.

“Its none of my business, but the General was eager that I relay their apologies.”

You froze, flashing a broken look at the healer you had known for many years. How many wounds and ailments of yours had she patched and cured in your career? But emotional wounds – this was new territory for the both of you.

As if finally in safe hands, your face crumpled, your anger and anguish overwhelming as you began to sob. Madja was ordinarily tough – she had no time for foolery and was unsympathetic for injuries of your own fault. But she comforted you now, hushing you and patting your back in a motherly way.

“What do you do when you no longer trust the people you love, Madja?” you asked through shallow cries.

She gave a small, tight smile, squeezing your hands that she now held in hers. “You spend eternity learning to forgive them.”

You bit the quiver in your lip. “I’m not sure I can,” you admitted.

She sighed softly, nodding with understanding. “You have the rest of your existence if you choose to try.”

Madja’s wisdom comforted you, your eyelids turning heavy and you fell to another bout of sleep.

————

Azriel, Cassian and Mor were eating breakfast at the House of Wind, none of them speaking as the weight of last nights events hung heavy.

With a sigh, Mor looked between the males. “She’s going to forgive you eventually, you know that right?”

Cassian gave her a sorry smile, while Azriel kept his eyes on his eggs. He gripped his fork tighter, his jaw clenched. “You didn't see the way she looked at us.”

“She just needs time,” Mor said. “This was her life’s mission after all.”

Azriel’s head snapped up, an icy cold glare fixed upon his face, a blanket over the sheer guilt he felt at Mor’s statement. “You don’t think I know that?”

Mor blinked at the Shadowsinger in shock – it was so unlike him to lose his cool.

“Easy Az, don't snap at Mor for things out of her control,” Cassian frowned at his brother, before shovelling another mouthful of oatmeal.

Azriel let out a sharp breath, clenching his eyes shut, ignoring the sting from the lack of sleep. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, still unable to unlock his tight jaw. Mor waved him off, assuring him it was no big deal.

A gust of foreign wind blew as Rhys and Feyre winnowed into the dining room. The High Lord disregarding pleasantries, his hand clutching a letter, its broken seal the unmistakable symbol of the infirmary.

“I have received news on Y/N.” The High Lord’s tone was to the point, cold even, like he was only interested in discussing the facts.

“Is she alright?” Cassian asked urgently. Azriel’s grip tightened on his knife and fork as he held his breath.

“Madja says her recovery is slow, but she is making progress. One or two more nights at the infirmary and she should be strong enough to be discharged.”

“I asked Madja about attending to her here. Has she written about that?” Azriel asked.

Rhys’s lips tightened before he loosed a deep breath. Feyre, her face pained, jumped in. “Madja has also written that at this point in time, Y/N does not wish to return to home.”

The others fell silent.

“What does that mean?” Azriel gritted.

Tears welled in their High Lady’s eyes, and Rhys slipped his hand over his mates.

“She no longer wishes to live here,” he said, his violet eyes saddened and dim.

Mor gasped, and Cassian shook his head. “Where will she go?” The General stood, his chair scraping as he pushed it out behind him.

“It’s unclear at this stage. Madja has asked that we respect her privacy while she heals. I’m hoping we can talk to her when she’s feeling better. Perhaps even convince her to stay.”

“She won't come back.” The rest of the group turned to the Shadowsinger, his gaze darkened and his shadows building to his neck. “I could sense her rage, the hate she held in her eyes. To her, what we did is unredeemable.”

“Don’t say that Az,” Feyre begged, a lone tear rolling down her cheek.

Azriel’s pounded the table with his fist, his knife now stuck upright in the mahogany wood. “Would you prefer I lied? She’s worked her whole life to avenge Meryl, and we shattered that dream. I wouldn't forgive us either.”

“Surely there is something we can do,” Cassian looked between his brother’s, eyes desperate, almost pleading.

But Azriel kept his cold glare on the couple before him. “You asked me to find Alvar first. So I did. And now we’ve lost our girl.”

Rhys’s power coursed through the room as he bought his mate closer to his side. “Watch it, Azriel,” he warned. “Alvar had intel on our wards, our home would be forever exposed if he got away. I tried my best to give Y/N the opportunity. Let’s not forget the decision you and Cass made to keep her grounded.”

“She was going to get herself killed,” Cassian muttered, not defensively, but as pure fact. “The desire to kill him – it makes her power unpredictable. She would have hurt herself, or died trying.”

“We all did what we had to do,” Feyre said softly, bringing sense back above the tension of the room. Pained, guilty expressions reflected hers.

Azriel stood now too, making his way around the table and heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Rhys asked.

“To go get Y/N.”

“She’s asked we give her some space Az,” Feyre reasoned. “We have no right to go barging in while she’s trying to recover.”

“I don't care. She’s angry, but that doesn't mean she knows what’s best. She’ll heal better here, with people that care about her. I’ll go–”

“Sit down,” Rhys interrupted the Shadowsinger, the air thickening with his power as he pulled rank.

Azriel’s shoulder’s tightened at Rhys’s order, halting his steps yet refusing to take his seat. “She belongs here, with us,” he gritted.

“We can't force her to do anything Azriel,” Mor whispered, her eyes soft as cast a sympathetic look at her friend.

There was silence in the room again, none of them knowing what to say next.

“This is my fault,” Cassian swallowed, his gaze distant in a deep frown.

“No one is to blame,” Rhys said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The situation is unfortunate, but I’m certain it will get better in time.” He breathed deeply, offering a broken smile to his mate before casting a stern look at the others. “We’ll keep you updated if we hear anything further.”

With a few quiet goodbyes, the High Lord and Lady winnowed back to their River Home.

“We–“ Cassian began.

“Don’t Cass,” Mor interrupted knowingly. “You need to leave bad enough alone.” She stood then, leaving the males to their breakfast.

Cassian cast a look to his brother, who was already looking at him. “Are we leaving now?”

“Not with all eyes on us. Wait until dark. Then we’ll go get our girl.”

“Deal.”

--------

Part 2 >>>>

AN: Ok, here’s that angsty piece I was telling you about.... 

I HAVE MISSED YOU GUYS!!!

Also I’ve been slack with my tag lists, very sorry! If you’d like to join a generic acotar one, drop a comment. 

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (27)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: fingering, masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, dirty talk, kissing without consent, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When her uncle decided that they would spend the night in Dragonstone for a moment she thought she had overheard herself − she was unable to contain her delight and outburst of joy at his words, feeling that he had somehow rewarded her for her efforts.

Or at least she thought he had.

His sudden change of plans was unlike him, and she was aware of that, knowing his nature.

He detested deviating from the plans he had previously made for himself.

However, she recognised that perhaps he wanted to show her and her family his sincere intentions, to prove that she was not just a prisoner in his eyes and that he, as her husband, could also sleep under their roof without being one.

She wasn't sure if she had ever been as happy in her life as she had been the moment she flew through the sky next to Vhagar, Caraxes and Syrax; her heart was filled with heat and hope, her uncle's words echoing in her mind like a sweet whisper.

I am proud of you.

Those words meant more to her than any of his other confessions.

Of course, his confession of love was a wonderful thing, but she had always been waiting for him to appreciate her as a person, not just a woman he saw by his side.

With this, she finally felt equal to him.

Her optimism extinguished as quickly as it had appeared as soon as she crossed the walls of the family fortress. Although her heart screamed with joy at the sight of familiar rooms, smells and sights, the faces of her brothers left her with no illusions.

She swallowed loudly as she saw the hateful look on Jace's face; she knew him and she knew that he was hurt.

He was disappointed and heartbroken, he felt humiliated and, deep down, betrayed by her, even though she never meant it.

Luke clearly didn't know what he felt himself, because he just lowered his head, unable to look into her eyes.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, a discomfort in her stomach that told her that perhaps this wasn't her home at all anymore.

She was no longer welcome here.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Rhaena − her step-sister was the first to approach her, warmth and longing in her gaze, some kind of understanding from which she felt tears under her eyelids. They hugged each other tightly, though they had never done so before − her words made her feel a tightening in her stomach.

"I'm so happy you're alive." She muttered in a breaking voice, and she smiled involuntarily at her words.

"Me too."

As Baela approached them, also enclosing her in the tight embrace of her arms, she thought with a shrug that even though she hadn't let them into the depths of her heart for so many years, they truly cared and worried about her.

At the very end Joffrey ran up to her, sobbing loudly.

"− why have you been so long in King's Landing? − why did you leave us? − Jace wouldn't read me my favourite book −" He mumbled cuddled into her belly, her hands combing through his dark curls with the calm motion of her fingers.

"− forgive me − I'm here −" She said softly, looking at her older brother and swallowed hard, seeing the murderous glances they exchanged over the table with her husband.

She looked at her mother, who nodded, understanding what she wanted to convey to her.

"You are certainly exhausted. Take up your old quarters, daughter, I will immediately command them to be brought to order and prepared for you." Rheanyra said calmly, and she bowed before her.

"Thank you, my Queen." She said softly, looking into her eyes. Her mother swallowed hard and nodded, allowing them to leave.

As they stepped inside her chamber, she felt a squeeze in her heart and some kind of elation; all her belongings were in their places exactly as she had left them, as if no one had been allowed in here since she had been forcibly held in the Red Keep.

She shuddered, snapped out of her reverie when her uncle moved ahead of her, strolling around the room with his hands folded behind his back, intrigued.

It seemed to her that some part of him wanted to understand what her life had been like and who she had been for the eight years during which they had been separated.

She saw him walk over to her old oak desk and run his fingers over its top, thoughtful.

"− is this here? −" He asked casually.

She felt heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that he meant the place where she had written letters to him.

"− yes −"

She swallowed quietly as he hummed at her words, watching as he sat in the chair where she sat many times leaning over the parchment, scribbling words on it meant only for his eyes. He tapped his finger on the armrest, turning to face her in profile as he gazed out of the window, apparently absorbed in memories.

She thought that although her return home had proved more uncomfortable than she had thought, she was grateful to him.

Whatever decision he had made that morning had led them here and was proof of his intentions.

"− we should rest, husband − if that's what you wish, we'll have supper alone −" She said quietly, smiling at him, wanting him to know she wouldn't force him to sit at the same table with her family.

She thought she would spend the evening with him, give him the feeling that she was not speaking with anyone behind his back, and perhaps in the morning, before they flew away, she would ask him so that she could speak to her mother at last in peace and solitude.

Comforted by this thought and the fact that it looked like all was not lost, she began to tell him about her life in Dragonstone, to show him the books she had written to him about in her letters, the places she had flown to on Larax.

It seemed to her that her husband was only partially listening to her; his gaze was thoughtful, his face expressed weariness and discouragement. She knew that something was making him uncomfortable and she suspected that it was about the place they were in; however, she did not know how to help him, to give him the feeling that neither he nor she was in danger here.

"− uncle − will you tell me what troubles you? −" She finally made an attempt to find out what had been on his mind since the morning. He shuddered at her words and looked at her with a horror as if he was about to faint.

"I'm tired." He replied quickly, without thinking, as if he wanted to answer her anything just to end the subject. She sighed quietly, recognising that she couldn't push him too hard.

Not after what they had managed to accomplish.

"Let's go to bed."

She felt a squeeze in her throat as, already lying on the bedding, she watched as he took out his dagger and tucked it under his pillow; she looked at him and met his calm, impassive gaze.

She decided not to say anything, understanding where his caution came from, not wanting to discourage or frustrate him.

She smiled involuntarily, content as his body clung to hers as soon as he lay at her side. She heard him murmur as she snuggled his face between her breasts, felt his arms embrace her waist and tighten around the material of her nightgown on her back.

She loved it when her mother sang lullabies to her when she was a child; it always calmed and soothed her. She had never dared to sing to him when they were children, fearing that her voice was too squeaky and unpleasant, but now she decided that maybe that was just what he needed.

So she sang, humming softly, once in a while placing a warm, lingering kiss on the top of his head − she felt his embrace slowly growing weaker, his muscles relaxing, his breathing quiet and even.

She sighed quietly feeling him fall asleep.

Someone's jerking and growling roused her from a deep sleep; when she opened her eyes for a moment she didn't know where she was or what was happening.

She recognised her chamber but did not know what her uncle was doing in it, convinced that he still had not answered her letters, as he had not done so for eight years.

After a moment, however, her mind seemed to regain focus and she remembered that she was his wife after all, and that his silhouette lying beside her was not a figment of her imagination.

She raised herself up on her elbow seeing that his body convulsed once in a while, as if he was trying to break free of something, whimpers and grunts came out of his throat, however, his mouth did not open, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes one by one.

"Uncle! Uncle, please, wake up!" She called out, grabbing his arm, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

She was frightened and jumped back as his eye opened suddenly, his figure rose to sit up, and he began to pant like a wild animal, quivering all over. She looked at him in disbelief, horrified to hear that he was struggling to catch his breath.

Was he having nightmares again?

Was he dreaming again of the night he lost his eye?

"− easy, my love − breathe −" She whispered tenderly, gently touching his back; he flinched all over and looked at her as if he didn't recognise her − his eye was wide open, his nostrils twitched in accelerated, heavy breaths.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −" He mumbled like a small, terrified child and fell into her arms, bursting into a sob so loud that the voice stuck in her throat.

She embraced him immediately, letting him find protection and comfort in her arms, stroking affectionately his hair and back, placing warm, soft kisses on the top of his head in an attempt to reassure him.

"− I'm here, my love − I'm here −" She mumbled, feeling that the fabric of her nightgown was all wet with his tears, his hot, broken breath enveloping her skin.

She felt like he wanted to melt into one with her, to hide deep inside her from whatever it was that scared him.

He was silent for a long moment, trying to calm himself; she hushed him tenderly, whispering that he was safe, that she was by his side, that all was well. She finally heard him swallow hard, his voice trembling and uncertain.

"− there's something − there's something I want to tell you −" He muttered. She blinked, twisting comfortably in her seat, feeling her heart begin to beat faster.

"− I'm listening to you, my love −" She whispered, stroking his hair. She released him from her arms when she felt him wanting to rise.

He sat on the bedding with his side facing her, running his shaking hand over his face, his healthy eye closed as if afraid of what was about to leave his mouth.

"− I − fuck −" He began, swallowing hard − her hand rose to his back, stroking it reassuringly.

"− easy − take your time − start from the beginning −" She encouraged him softly, not wanting him to fall silent again, seeing that he wanted to throw off whatever had been weighing on his shoulders since they had left Harrenhal.

"− you may remember − Lord Strong wanted to speak with me soon after we arrived in Harrenhal −" He said uncertainly, and she nodded, reminding herself that this was indeed what had happened.

"− yes −"

Her uncle swallowed hard, drawing in air loudly.

"− he told me at the time − that my grandfather had no intention of letting your mother and Daemon leave the Eyrie alive if it turned out they wouldn't accept our terms − but now I think they wouldn't have left alive anyway − Larys had his spies there −" He muttered and fell silent, freezing completely as she did, her heart beginning to pound like mad.

My grandfather had no intention of letting them leave the Eyrie alive.

"Will you be by my side even when all is lost? Even if there is nothing left but darkness? Is that what you had in mind then?" She mumbled out in pain, feeling that there was a complete void in her mind. "Will I be there for you even if your grandfather kills my mother?"

"− n-no −" He began quickly. "− will you be there for me even if I fail to prevent it knowing that I didn't tell you −"

She felt a constriction in her throat and lower abdomen, felt tears of disappointment and sadness flowing into her eyelids − now it was her body that trembled in convulsions, his gaze full of shame and horror directed at her.

She sucked his cock, she let him take her, and he knew that the next day her father and her mother could be murdered.

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head and laughed low.

"− you will betray me − you will run away − those are your words, aren't they? − you were always the first to accuse me − was it because you were trying to cover up your own conscience? − you wanted me to let you down so that you wouldn't feel guilty about doing it over and over again? −" She asked with a cold mockery, from which he bowed his head in embarrassment, in a subconscious reflex he had inherited from his mother plucking the cuticles around his fingernails.

He did not answer.

"− what should I do now? − divorce you? − say I won't come back to King's Landing with you? − not speak to you for eight years? − tell me, uncle, what do you think you deserve? −" She asked dispassionately, feeling the tears of rage and grief one by one run down her cheeks.

She saw him tremble at her words and curl into himself, as if he were again the same little boy who had cried in her arms when his mother had reprimanded him for inappropriate behaviour.

She pressed her lips into a thin line as he hid his face in his hands and wept helplessly, as if his whole person, everything he had built around himself was just falling apart in front of her eyes, showing him his insides, what was left of him.

He was vulnerable.

"− fuck − I − I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you'd change your mind − that if you warned them they'd see it as a betrayal and wouldn't want to pact − that's why I didn't let any of us stay in the Eyrie − I −"

"− because my mother agreed − but what would you have done if things had turned out differently? −" She asked coldly, and he swallowed hard, covering his eyes with his hand, as if he could not bear what he felt or this conversation.

"− I don't know − I don't know how I could have protected both you and my family then − what decision of mine would have saved you from death −" He muttered and she pulled herself up from the bed, recognising that she didn't feel like listening to this, that she had had enough of him and his guilt when it was always him, him, him disappointing her.

From the first night she had returned to him, when he had closed her cheeks in the brutal grip of his fingers she had seen in his eye what had now become clear to her.

He was weak, and when he was afraid, he resorted to violence.

She heard him stand up behind her, panting heavily, wiping his tear-wet face with his hand.

"− no − don't leave − I told you because −"

"− because your conscience didn't give you peace − because you didn't want to carry your guilt alone −" She hissed, turning towards him with furrowed brows.

She felt that fury, not blood, was flowing through her veins now.

He swallowed loudly at her words, looking at her wide-eyed.

"− if you've never hidden anything from me − you've never concealed anything from me for fear that I might react impulsively, leave − but if you did, come back to bed − I won't touch you −"

She pressed her lips together in fury, recognising that he must have been mocking her, but then she felt an unpleasant sting in her heart that proved she had doubts.

She heard again the words of one of her servants in King's Landing whispering in her ear that when the time came, Prince Daemon would help her escape; she heard again the words of Alys speaking of the prophecy she had not shared with him for fear of his reaction.

Had she really never hidden anything from him?

Her whole body screamed for her to leave; she wanted to do it, but felt that if she did, she would be lying to herself and to him, creating an image in which she was without flaw.

She could say that she had the right to do it, that she had good intentions, but didn't her uncle think the same about his decisions?

She glared at him and let out a loud breath, returning to the bed without a word, sinking into the soft sheets, turning her face away from him. She heard him breathe heavily, and after a moment, the bed creaked under the weight of his body settling against her back.

"− tell me −" He whispered.

She sighed heavily and grunted, recognising that her faults were less than his anyway.

So why did she still feel shame and a squeeze in her gut?

"− after I tried to take my life I was told that my father could help me escape − don't ask how − I also didn't tell you about the prophecy I heard from Alys −"

"− that fucking witch is a liar −" He growled, and she let out a loud breath, impatient.

"− it is possible − but I also heard this prophecy from your sister's mouth − both of them spoke of two rivers of blood merging into one, taking the shape of a dragon's crowned head −" She choked out finally, her husband stirring beside her in his place, surprised.

"− what could this mean? −"

"− I don't know − I was afraid that when you heard it, you would want to give up on the negotiations and return to King's Landing − Alys warned me, so she probably knew what your grandfather was planning to do −" She said regretfully, thinking that strange woman was more concerned for her safety and her family than her husband.

She heard him swallow hard, letting the air out loudly.

"− forgive me −"

She lay in silence for some time, feeling anger that he expected her to simply forget everything, understand his reasons and forgive him as always.

No.

"− I will forgive you, but I have my conditions − we will stay here longer − for a week or two, I will decide in the morning −" She said coldly.

"− but − my mother will be convinced that they are holding us by force −" He began, but she would not let him finish.

"− you will write a letter to your brother informing him that my mother has accepted his terms, but is also setting her own − that we will stay here to discuss all the details, show our goodwill − if your mother wishes, she can travel here in her own person − you can leave Dragonstone when you wish, but I will stay here as long as I desire, and you will show no opposition −" She said impatiently, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her hands clenched into fists.

Her husband swallowed loudly at her words, tense.

"− I − very well −" He muttered finally, knowing that any other words would forever cross him out in her eyes.

She hummed under her breath, covering herself tightly with the bedding and closed her eyes, figuring she wouldn't turn towards him for the rest of the night.

"− don't try to take me or embrace me −" She commanded and he sighed quietly.

She swallowed hard when she felt him place his large hand on her head and begin to stroke her hair exactly as he had when they were children.

She felt furious that it was so pleasant, so soothing, that he knew she loved it.

"− my Rhaenys −" He whispered tenderly. She pressed her lips together at his words, feeling a single, lonely tear run down her cheek.

The next morning she was awakened by a rustling noise and the sound of a quill scratching on parchment; she lifted her sleepy eyelids and saw his silhouette sitting behind her desk, bent over a letter he had apparently just written.

She felt strange at the thought that he was sitting in the exact place where she had spent years writing him messages that had never received a response.

She knew, however, that she now had the upper hand over him and that her word was an order to him.

She was not going to imitate his cold nature and not speak to him − they had to maintain a semblance of at least a warm relationship so that the image of their marriage, on which the whole agreement between the two parties was supposed to be based, did not begin to crack.

He lifted his gaze to her when she stood up, but they did not exchange a word between each other.

He did not know what to say.

Her maidservant walked in at her summons and bowed before her, bending her head humbly.

"− Your Grace, will you have your morning meal before your travel? − your mother would like to speak with you before you leave for King's Landing −"

"− we will have a meal, but convey to my mother that there is no rush − my husband and I have decided to stay here for a few weeks as an expression of our sincere intentions − my husband is in the process of conveying this message to his brother − my uncle is in need of new garments, provide them for him without delay and bring them to my chamber −" She said calmly; her servant blinked, shocked and nodded, immediately disappearing behind the door.

Despite what she had learned and the rage she felt, she was pleased − the roles had been reversed and although her husband was not her prisoner, he was attached to her and was forced to stay in a place that disgusted him.

Good, she thought.

She wanted him to feel what she had felt during the month she had spent in King's Landing, imprisoned by his mother and grandfather.

"− I wish to spend this afternoon with my mother − if you so desire, I can show you in which chamber the library is located −" She said lightly, without looking at him however, taking a bite of bread spread with confiture. Her husband rolled his eyes, displeased.

"I have no intention of leaving your quarters." He replied indifferently.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement at his words.

"You are not my prisoner, uncle. You can walk and fly wherever you please. Holding someone by force is not in my nature." She murmured softly − her husband gave her one tired look.

She smiled at him in a way from which he swallowed hard and looked away, sighing heavily.

He knew she was enraged and he wasn't going to get in her way.

One of the aspects she enjoyed upon returning home was that she had finally retrieved all her robes; her uncle looked at her from the side, watching as her servants helped her put on a golden gown with long black sleeves that reached the ground.

"− make braids around my head − my husband adores it when I wear this hairstyle, is he not? −" She sneered, glancing at him over her shoulder. She only saw him roll his eyes, running his hand over his face, not saying a word.

He knew he had to endure everything she was throwing at him with humility if he didn't want to make his already bad situation worse.

She had no idea what he could do to regain her favour, her trust, the respect she had for him.

"− have a pleasant day, husband −" She threw over her shoulder, leaving him alone in the chamber, recognising that she did not care what he did.

As she stepped into her mother's quarters, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, putting down the quill she held in her hand, approaching her with surprise and uncertainty written on her face.

"− is it true? − are you planning to stay in Dragonstone? −" She asked in a trembling voice − she smiled and nodded. Her mother sighed in relief and walked over to her, embracing her tightly with her arms, snuggling her head into her neck.

They pulled away from each other after a moment, her hands gripping her cheeks, her thumbs stroking her skin as if she remembered a time when she was still a small child.

"− let's sit down −"

Being in her chamber again was like a dream to her − she couldn't believe she was sitting at the same table again, surrounded by the same furniture and bed with a red curtain, with the windows open to a view of the great sea.

"− does he treat you well? −" She asked suddenly, taking her hand in her own.

Her mother's question surprised her, but it also filled her heart with warmth and emotion.

"− I − yes − despite his harsh, difficult nature −"

"− so how did he let this happen? −" She asked, exposing a part of her wrist with her thumb, where her pale scar was clearly visible. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer her.

She wanted to tell her about the moon tea, but hesitated.

She didn't want her to think that her husband knew about it, that he was a worse person than she assumed.

It devastated her to think that she still had to tell half-truths.

"− I did it as an act of desperation − when he found out he wouldn't leave my side for weeks − he wouldn't let anyone but himself, Helaena and the maester cross the threshold of my quarters − he let me see Luke −" She muttered, looking at her at last. Her mother lowered her gaze, sighing quietly, tired and pale.

"− when Daemon passed on your words to me, I was furious − I didn't understand how you could do this to me −" She began and fell silent, closing her eyelids for a moment.

She felt an all-consuming shame at the thought that she had failed and disappointed her as a daughter.

"− forgive me − I would never question your rights if it were only about you − but you know very well that it is not −" She said cautiously − her mother lifted her gaze to her and nodded.

"− I know −"

They fell silent for a moment.

"− can I trust him? − your husband − and my brother −" Her mother asked coldly; she raised her gaze to her, surprised to feel that her lips involuntarily parted.

I don't know.

"− yes −" She muttered. "− he refused Maris Baratheon to take her as his wife − he himself proposed a form of compromise, and his elder brother supported him − Aegon is not a good man, but he cares about his children − he knows he will not leave them a secure, safe throne − just as you would not leave it to your sons −"

They said no more.

She spent some more time with her, just holding her hand, wordlessly trying to comfort her, thinking with weariness that she had to give up everything that was rightfully hers.

She finally decided to take pity on her husband and return to her chamber, not wanting to leave him alone for so long in a state of anxiety and uncertainty.

She felt her heart stop as she stepped into her quarters and saw no one inside − a cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of him leaving her.

He had returned to King's Landing without her.

She pressed her lips together, involuntarily feeling her heart begin to pound like mad with pain and sadness, her eyes glazed over with tears that she was ashamed of, thinking it shouldn't hurt so much, and yet it did.

She looked around the room quickly, looking for a letter or anything else that might say he had left her some word, but found nothing of the sort; she shuddered when she heard someone's dim voices in the distance and walked over to the window.

Her father and her uncle stood facing each other on the beach with their hands folded behind their backs, discussing something animatedly, a clear tension between them.

She felt regret towards herself, her body filled with an overwhelming relief that he had not left her, that he had not betrayed her again.

She thought the gods had been cruel, allowing her to love this man so deeply.

She blinked, startled, when she heard the door from her chamber open; she turned and saw the figure of her eldest brother, who only spoke up when they heard a loud clatter of wood behind them.

"− how could you do this? − choose him over us? −" He growled with regret, resentment and disappointment, his big brown eyes filled with anger and pain from which she felt a tightening in her throat. She furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"− we both know what the truth is − you can't rule with lies −" She replied, shrugging her shoulders; Jace moved towards her and she flinched all over, surprised at how pale he was, his lips tightened into a thin line − she had the impression he was trembling all over.

"− this was my inheritance − my throne − my crown − and you chose him, a man who did not write back to your letters for eight years, who humiliated you by calling you a bastard, and you shared a bed with him the first night you saw him, like some... −" He didn't finish and fell silent, the word he wanted to say stuck deep in his throat. She felt her lower lip tremble at his accusation, her eyebrows arching in pain and anger, her eyes red from tears of shame and humiliation.

"− say it − you've already spoken the word in your mind −" She sneered, lifting her chin higher, challenging him.

"− I won't call you an unworthy name −" He muttered lowly, and she laughed involuntarily at his words, shaking her head.

"− you think that makes you a better man? − look at this −" She hissed, lifting her hand up, exposing her wrist tugging impatiently at the material of her black sleeve. "− here is what I have done for you and for your crown − should I do it again? −"

She swallowed loudly, surprised when she noticed that something in her brother's expression had changed − Jace had grabbed her wrist and locked it between his fingers, but there was no aggression in the gesture, his thumb stroking her smooth, bare skin.

They stared at each other for a moment, breathing loudly; she felt that there was a kind of tension between them from which her heart was pounding like mad, but she wasn't sure what it was caused by; something in his gaze, in his brown, misty eyes and parted lips, made her feel hot.

"− do you love him more than our mother? − than Luke, than Joffrey? − than me? −" He asked in a trembling voice and she shook her head, not understanding what he meant.

"− Jace − it's a different kind of love − I −"

"− what kind? −" He hissed. "− the kind where you're constantly betrayed? − in which someone mocks your parentage? − locks you up like some prisoner? −"

Gods.

"− Jace −" She gasped, feeling that something in his questions, in his gaze, in what he wanted to hear from her had broken her down, her whole body began to quiver.

She shuddered as he approached her suddenly, as his free hand cupped her warm cheeks, as his forehead pressed against hers, his voice trembling as the words left his throat like a river.

"− I am your oldest brother − you were born to be mine − I would be good to you − you know I would −"

"− brother, what are you saying? − you had no objections when my mother decided to marry me to Ronnel −" She said disapprovingly, furrowing her brow in anger.

"− it was our mother's decision − how could I oppose her? −" He asked with a frown, as if he really believed what he was saying, a cold shiver ran through her body as his thumb ran over the soft skin of her cheek, hot with emotion.

"− you have never loved me − not in this way, we both know it well − you have always preferred to lie to yourself rather than face the truth − you do not look at me as the woman you desire, but as an inheritance that was taken from you −" She said with pain, feeling that what he was saying was not due to any deep feeling he had for her, but to his anger that she was not waiting for him docilely like his throne and his crown.

Her brother swallowed hard at her words, his hot, ragged breath enveloping the skin of her face.

"− when you were born, our mother told me that you might be my future wife − and I always, always saw you this way −"

"− you mocked me with Aegon −"

"− I craved his attention − he was older and impressed me − didn't you do anything you regretted as a child? −" He muttered wearily; she felt her heart stop at his words, a drop of cold sweat run down the back of her neck.

What was she supposed to answer him?

"− brother − I am married to another man − of my own free will −"

"− you are a traitor −"

"− how dare you −"

"− you are a traitor, but I still am unable to hate you −"

A squeal of terror stuck in her throat, her body froze completely as his lips pressed against hers in a greedy, hot, sticky kiss, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her cheeks, refusing to let her move away.

She cried out and pushed him away − before he could make any move her hand slapped him in the face so hard that he took a few steps back, clutching his red cheek, panting heavily.

"− get out −" She muttered, placing her hand over her heart, feeling as if it was about to burst out of her chest. "− get out of my chamber, brother − I'll forget this...conversation ever took place −"

Jace swallowed hard, horrified and ashamed, as if it had only now occurred to him what he had actually done.

What would Baela say if she saw this?

It seemed to him that they both couldn't believe he had done it − Jace had turned and walked out, leaving behind an open door and a complete blank in her mind.

She thought he wanted to take it out on their uncle, to take away something that belonged to him.

That she was just an object for him on which he had decided to vent.

She thought with pain that he, unlike her husband, had never tried to truly understand her.

When her uncle returned to her chamber they did not exchange a word − he seemed distracted and frustrated to her. He took one of the books from the bookshelf and sat by the fireplace, pretending to read. She lowered her gaze, playing with her fingers, thinking only of the fact that if she hid it from him, she would be just like him.

She didn't know for a long time how she should put it into words, but she figured he'd be furious either way.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −" She muttered, glancing at him fearfully − his eye opened wide, looking at her in disbelief, his jaw clenched in such a way that a shudder went through her.

He was silent for a moment, as if he had run out of words, which frightened her even more.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, closing the book with a loud slam, pulling himself up from his seat like an enraged bear.

"− he kissed me − grief and humiliation took his mind away − I − wait − gods −" She muttered, standing up as soon as he headed towards the door, which he opened with a loud clatter, running out into the corridor after him.

"− Aemond − no, no, no − stop! −" She hissed, grabbing his arm, but he pulled away from her, opening door after door until he found himself in the right room − Jace and Beala were sitting together at a table, apparently discussing something.

Her older brother rose from his seat and turned pale at the sight of them, horrified.

Her husband walked into his quarters with a wide, menacing smile, exactly the same one he bestowed on him and Luke when they saw him duelling with Criston Cole in King's Landing. He put his hands behind his back, shifting his body weight to one leg, cocking his head.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −"

"− Aemond −" She said warningly, but her uncle didn't listen to her, his healthy eye wide open, as if he was just waiting for this.

An opportunity for confrontation.

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered amused, revealing his teeth in a wide grin full of feigned recognition.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela thundered.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she knew nothing.

She moved ahead and stood in front of her husband, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"− we are leaving −"

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −"

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He murmured in a voice filled with poison, from which a strong shiver ran along her back.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela hissed, furious that her betrothed simply looked at their uncle and remained silent, unable to get a word out.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He directed his words to her, to his sister, sadness and regret in his gaze, from which she involuntarily felt sympathy.

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" Her husband hissed, gripping her cheeks in his hand − her voice stuck in her throat as his fleshy lips clung to hers in an aggressive, loud kiss, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat.

She sighed as he turned her back to him, pressing her brutally against his chest and grabbed her neck − she grasped his wrist as his free hand slid down her lower abdomen, his fingers dug into the material of her gown beneath which her womanhood lay, she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out into her ear and she closed her eyes, feeling with horror and disbelief that her nipples had hardened, that her walls had clenched around nothing at his embarrassing words, feeling his finger tease what lay between her thighs despite her resistance.

"− u-uncle − stop −" She muttered, a moan stuck in her throat as she felt his erection behind her throb hard at her words, pushing against her buttocks, his fingertips dug deep into her folds hidden beneath the fabric.

Gods, he wanted her brother to watch this.

Baela looked at Jace as if she suddenly understood everything, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"− what did you do? −" She asked quietly, her older brother shook his head, all red, turning his face away, unable to look at it.

"− I −" He didn't finish; her uncle let her go immediately, panting loudly as she did when Daemon walked into the chamber, looking at them, then at Jace and his daughter.

He grinned.

"− what is the meaning of this...commotion? − hm? −" He asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement and mockery; she looked away and glanced at her uncle, shaking her head with furrowed brows, letting him know that he was to remain silent.

Her husband pressed his lips into a thin line, but did not utter a word.

They stood in awkward silence, with only the quiet fizzle of the blazing fire in the fireplace around them.

"Mmm." Her husband hummed and turned away, heading for the door. Not knowing what to do, she simply moved after him, casting only one apologetic glance at Baela.

When they finally returned to her chamber she let out a loud breath.

"− what was that supposed to mean? −" She asked in frustration, wondering what had possessed him.

She tried not to think about how embarrassingly wet she was now.

"− I don't know what you're referring to, wife − I've merely shown my nephew the depth of my understanding as to his desire −" He grinned, grabbing a jug full of wine, pouring himself a full cup of it.

She licked her lower lip in impatience, standing still and watching him − their gazes met as he raised the goblet to his lips and took a deep sip from it.

"− what − are you wet now? −" He sneered and she felt a hot wave of shame surge through her body − she felt like her cheeks had turned scarlet.

"− don't mock me − this was humiliating −" She growled, furrowing her brow, a smirk on his face that she didn't like.

"− if you say so, wife −" He muttered, approaching her lazily, playing with his cup in his hand, raising it to his lips again "− I, however, think you'd rather I did something else −"

He said and took another sip of wine, swallowing it loudly, towering over her with a look from which a pleasant shiver ran through her core.

"− I think you'd rather I fucked you good in front of him − for me to slip my fingers under your skirt and sink them into your leaking cunt −" He murmured, leaning over her so that the tips of their noses were almost touching, her walls swelling all over at his words − she felt a drop of her own wetness run down her thigh.

"− am I wrong? −" He asked, cocking his head curiously, taking another sip of wine from his goblet without taking his eyes off her.

She drew in a loud breath as he set his cup down on the table standing beside them with a loud clang of steel, taking a step towards her, his lips parted in desire.

Gods, no.

"− don't touch me −"

She saw him squint his eyes as he hesitated, his nostrils flaring in accelerated breath.

She knew he was hard.

She knew he wanted to soften her up.

"Mmm."

She immediately summoned her servant wishing that she would help her pull off her gown and let her hair down. After this, she lay down in bed, covering herself with thick furs, not looking at him or speaking a word to him. She swallowed hard when she heard him lie down right next to her and closed her eyelids when she felt his hot breath on her neck.

She thought he would try to touch her, embrace her and give her a reason to push him away, but he just lay behind her back, driving her crazy.

She waited for some time, listening to his quiet breathing, and decided that he was surely asleep by now; her hand slipped silently into the material of her nightgown, lifting it up. She swallowed quietly, tightening her lips as her fingers sank into her leaking, soft, hot womanhood begging to be fulfilled, teasing and squeezing the bud between its fleshy folds.

She felt herself grow hot, her heart began to pound like mad at the indecent idea that these was his hand touching her in front of Jace, making him watch, wanting him to see what her fulfilment looked like.

She felt her walls clench greedily around nothing at the thought, her fingers teasing the spot between her puffy folds with circular, intense strokes.

Involuntarily, her hips began to rock softly to the rhythm of the flicks of her own fingers, she felt that she was wonderfully close to fulfilment.

"− what are you doing? −" She heard his low, cool voice and froze completely. She swallowed hard, sliding her hand, sticky with her own moisture from between her thighs, and remained silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

"− go on −" He said in a hoarse, deep voice from which a shiver went down her spine. She heard a rustling behind her and then the sticky sound of skin slapping against skin − his hot breathing quickened, heavy and ragged. "− come on −"

She couldn't help herself; her fingers dug into her swollen folds again causing a wave of heat to pass through her body − she felt pleasant tickling sensations in her lips, fingertips and nipples. She moaned quietly when she felt his nose pressed against her hair, her hips involuntarily began to rock when she heard him begin to pant, the splats behind her getting louder, louder and louder.

"− fuck − you know I'd lick you good there − hm? −" He sighed and she felt her whole body quiver, her fingers teasing her puffy pearl all sticky from her own wetness.

"− mhgm −" She whined, tilting her head back, feeling his hot, uneven breath on her ear, his swollen, wet lips run down her neck.

"− are you leaking? − are you leaking at the thought of how good I would make you feel? − at the thought of your brother watching me fuck his little sister? −" He breathed out, and she moaned loudly as she felt a wonderful, relieved sensation at his words, her fulfilment shaking her like a hot, tickling wave.

Her slit pulsed all under her fingers as her own moisture leaked out of her, she shuddered when she felt his warm, rough tongue run across the bare skin of her neck, leaving a slick, wet mark on it.

"− fuck, Rhaenys −" He muttered and after a moment he gasped − she felt something sticky and warm spurt out onto the back of her nightgown.

His seed.

Gods.

She closed her eyelids, trying to calm her breathing, furious at herself and her weakness.

"− let me embrace you −"

"− no −"

She heard him huff, sighing heavily, his face still sunk into her neck.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, thinking with frustration that she hated him with all her heart.

[your-bestamericangirl]

Tolerate It.

Paige Bueckers x reader || next: n/a || masterlist

(there will be a pt 2!!)

notes: ANGST , ooc paige cuz obviously she isn't this mean, also not really a lot of paige sorry- sorta setting it up for the caitlin picking up the pieces in the second part.

now playing: tolerate it by taylor swift

(Y/n) would not do this to herself again. The warmth that once kissed her features had long since burned out. Her head hung low, eyes tracing the trail of melted wax pooling under the once-lit candle. Each droplet seemed to echo the tears she dared not shed.

How long had it been? The streetlights pouring in through the windows had been the only thing capable of illuminating the empty chair. Unfortunately, that allowed (Y/n) to continue to remind herself that someone was supposed to be sitting across from her.

Her absence was equally overwhelming as her presence. She sat atop a pedestal of achivements. Before, they had been equals, minds intertwined through a delicate thread of gold. Eventually, she rose too far for (Y/n) to reach.

As (Y/n) stared into the flickering flame, the room felt suffocatingly silent. The oppressive stillness was broken only by the faint hum of the streetlights outside, casting long shadows that danced across the walls. The empty chair stood as a silent reminder of her absence, its weight pressing down on (Y/n) 's heart like a leaden anchor.

It seemed as though now, Paige only tolerated her love.

The click of an unlocked door echoed throughout their shared apartment, bouncing off the walls.

Steps sounded, their treads light, careful not to disturb the sleeping night.

(Y/n) kept her gaze locked on the wall ahead, lest her tears fell as she found Paige’s blameless eyes.

“You didn’t have to wait for me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t have kept me waiting.”

Paige’s face carried no regret. Her eyes shut, breath from the depths of her lungs was let out in a sigh. 

From her seat, (Y/n) craned her neck upwards to meet Paige’s unbothered gaze. She searched within Paige’s eyes, there laid not even a hint of remorse.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, (Y/n) .” 

She felt the weight of Paige's words like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. The ache in her chest deepened, a gnawing emptiness that threatened to consume her whole. She struggled to find her voice, to articulate the storm of emotions raging within her.

"You don't know?" (Y/n) 's voice rang with a mixture of hurt and indignation. "Of course you wouldn’t know how it feels to wait for someone."

Paige's expression remained impassive, unmoved by (Y/n) 's pain. It was a familiar sight, one that she had grown accustomed to over time. The realization only fuelled the bitterness welling up inside her. Wood gathered under her nails, scratched off as she gripped the table. Whether it be for stability or out of anger.

"I'm tired of waiting for scraps of affection, Paige," (Y/n) 's voice wavered, betraying the depth of her despair. "Why can’t you see me."

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of their breathing. In the dim light of the room, (Y/n) could see the weariness etched into Paige's features, a reflection of her own exhaustion. She always wondered how Paige could be so oblivious to her pleas for affection. 

Long ago, Paige had thrown her weight onto (Y/n) , overwhelming her senses all at once. Perhaps dulling out what their relationship really meant. When Paige suddenly stopped reciprocating anything, (Y/n) had been thrown off balance. Where had the longing gazes departed to? The warmth coursing through both their veins turned cold. Though it had been evident who was was capable of living that way.

"I know," Paige finally spoke, her voice soft but devoid of warmth. "And I'm sorry."

Eyes shut, (Y/n) scoffed. “So?” She questioned, surely that wasn’t all Paige had to say.

It was all she ever did. Early on, (Y/n) worshiped those little apologies. Welcoming them as they had been all she had wanted to hear from her lover. Soon enough, it had been clear that Paige was accustom to using empty words.

And so, (Y/n) found herself trapped in a cycle of longing and despair, unable to escape the crushing weight of her unrequited affection. 

“I said I was sorry. What more do you want?” At this point Paige stood, exasperated and defensive. Her eyes turned sower, expression twisted as she took in the state of (Y/n) before her. 

“Where did you go?” (Y/n) questioned, her voice down to a whisper.  As the candle burned low, casting eerie shadows that danced like ghosts in the darkness, (Y/n) knew she would not do this to herself again. But the ache in her heart, the echo of her lover's absence, remained as a haunting reminder of what she had lost.

“Why are you so sensitive? I just came back from Em’s, calm down.” The answer shot out, burrying it’s resentment into (Y/n) ’s gut and spreading throughout her blood.

“No, Paige,” At last, the table became stained with tears. Ever so slowly, (Y/n) ’s heart broke. “Did you ever love me?”

(Y/n) s heart sank as she waited for an answer that would never come. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and shattered dreams. With a heavy heart, she rose from her seat, her gaze lingering on Paige's impassive form for a moment longer before turning away.

As she stepped out into the cool night air, (Y/n) felt a weight lift from her shoulders, a sense of liberation washing over her like a cleansing tide. The streets were deserted, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights overhead. 

The night air was cool against her skin. (Y/n) breathed it in deeply, letting go of the pain and disappointment that had held her captive for so long. 

She left behind the empty promises and broken dreams of her past. She walked with her head held high, her heart filled with hope for the possibilities that lay ahead. And as she disappeared into the night, leaving behind the echoes of a love that was never meant to be, she knew that she was finally free.

a/n: OKAY HOPE YALL LIKED IT (may or may not be based off of my own experiences-) sorry for not that much Paige, but send in more requestssss LOVE YALL MWAH

[angyo]

I unironically love csm 167. Not for horny, but because it's so fucked up on so many layers and if it follows up on even 1 of those layers of fuckery it's gonna be explosive.

Denji:

He's already been sexually assaulted so many times. Every time he has a dream it gets monkey's pawed into fucking him up worse. He doesn't know what he wants. Deep down he just wants to be loved and be able to trust that if he puts his soul into the hands of another person it won't get crushed. But his love for aki and power was used to break him. His love for reze and makima betrayed. His love for nayuta and the dogs used to goad him into violence. Everyone he opens his heart to either dies or uses him, so all he has left is this hope that sex gives him the love he so deeply needs without the commitment that makes it dangerous. He thinks getting his rocks off might give him the same love he needs without the possibility of having it stolen from him. An orgasm is an orgasm, even if the other person immediately betrays you you still got "love" in a far more transactional and solid sense.

But that's not how it works. Post-orgasm is a very vulnerable time, especially if it's from a high tension surprise hand job (rape) in a backalley. It's his last dream that hasn't been ruined yet and it happened after a castration attempt and will likely end with Asa looking at him like a disgusting monster and vomiting on the ground.

Yoru:

Of course the war devil can't process love. She and Asa share a body and swap a lot of emotions but they're still different people and when something they now feel strongly goes so directly against all of their lives experience they'll react in unpredictable and possibly dangerous ways, ESPECIALLY war. Yoru got the memory of the first kiss meaning asa probably got it too. Asa's not stable, she's so desperately lonely this revelation that denji never stood her up must've felt so relieving. But yoru was in charge when asa got this flood of emotion. War isn't about love or compromise, it's about stealing from the weak and kind, asserting absolute authority, and a lot of rape and pillaging. Of course when faced with such a human and kind emotion as love war doesn't care about anything but satiating the most immediately available impulse in a way that asserts her "superiority" and leaving before she'd have to actually confront the emotional turmoil she caused.

Asa:

Oh she's fucked. Just like denji she is desperately lonely and always has love ripped away from her in the cruelest ways. But unlike him, she just pretends she doesn't need it and tries to feel superior so she doesn't have to feel the real depth of her loneliness. Yet she can't help but love anyway, and every time she falls into the trap of caring it dissolves all of her defenses and when it's betrayed it breaks her core. She is sex-repulsed, which is understandable for a teenager and possibly a sign of asexuality but thematically can be tied to her fear of opening her heart to damage. There's a difference between finding it disgusting on a reasonable level and being so viscerally disgusted by the thought it can drag you into hell. Sex is vulnerable. Your expose a lot of really sensitive organs to each other and stimulate hormones that make you open yourself up and expose yourself to risks like stds. When it feels like all her vulnerabilities get hammered against her of course she'd be scared of such a vulnerable act.

And now she's got cum on the only hand she has left, denji's spit in her mouth, and the lingering feeling of his dick on her, again, ONLY REMAINING HAND. And he's going to need aftercare, and really substantial care because she just sexually assaulted him and he doesn't know she's 2 different people. He's either gonna be so immediately depressed by the anticlimax of his first time he starts isolating or so desperate for this sex to be the time it finally means love he clings to her but it's gonna be terrifying to her because yoru took her subconscious vulnerability and externalized it to hurt the guy she just realized might be the only person to actually give a shit right now. She loves him and as soon as she lets that emotion wash over her it gets used to melt him into a puddle of desperation and vulnerability right in her arm that is so far beyond anything she can emotionally handle it could make him hate her forever. The only one who ever gave a shit and in the span of a couple minutes her body has been used to deconstruct him into a million little pieces she couldn't possibly put back together.

Not to mention the fact that in assaulting denji yoru also sexually assaulted Asa but denji doesn't know that. They both need immediate calming that isn't going to happen.

And she can't run away from yoru. The girl who assaulted her, exploited every vulnerability she has, and ruined her only chance is in her head. Even if denji realizes his worth and runs away asa is still stuck. Her assaulter is in her head, and the only hand she has left is covered in jizz.

[duplicitousfate]

Hear me out: Lamb but two 👀

Literally everyone knows about there being two lambs. The Bishops, the cultists, the crowns. Everyone EXCEPT Narinder

It made... quite a first impression when he was later revived after bringing the bishops into the cult

Now the whole cult's placing bets on how long it'll take for him to figure out which of the lambs killed him and which lamb he kinda, maybe, likes hates with a passion.

(Art by @dashing-through-ecto )

No one looks at tumblr blogs anymore so under the cut is more in depth refs about the bishops and such! WARNING: LONG.

LAMBERT: Masc They/Them. The main caretaker of the followers. The few times they go on crusades, they prefer the blunderbuss and the golden fleece combo. Did, in fact, one-shot Leshy’s fight with this min-max strategy.

They are gentle and treat the followers more like their kids than their followers for the most part. They are the one that loves Narinder, but for the sake of the bit, they keep it subtle.

LAMBARI: Femme They/Them. The main crusader. They can work with generally any weapon, but will refuse and in fact rage-quit if they get the gauntlets or the dagger, preferring to strike heavy. They were the one that made the original deal with The One Who Waits, and was more than happy to slay the bishops.

They are more stern, preferring to take a more tough-love approach that will tell you immediately if they don’t like something. They eventually get with Shamura, and have the goal of restoring their mind.

NARINDER had absolutely NO idea there were two lambs until he was brought back to life, after his siblings were brought into the herd. The twins did what any pair of identical twins would do: Fuck with him.

Now, he not only has to figure out which one was the lamb that struck him down, but also which one he began to harbor feelings for. The entire cult is now taking bets.

His role in the cult is undefined, as he is far more occupied in figuring out his conundrum.

SHAMURA was the first Bishop of the Old Faith, and the first to be betrayed by Narinder. They were the last Bishop to be struck down by the lambs, and the last to be brought back. The God of War and Knowledge, the most savage and yet the most diplomatic, attempting to warn the Lambs of their imminent betrayal and the quickest to listen and convert when they bested their brother.

They have the most vague position in the cult, often focusing on the personal care of Lambari after their long, grueling crusades. They are often seen at the refinery otherwise, when there’s nothing else to keep their many hands busy.

KALLAMAR was the second Bishop of the Old Faith, the second to be betrayed. Third to be struck down, third to be brought back. The God of Pestilence and Vitality may be a coward, but he is an impeccable fighter, providing the most trouble thanks to how devoted his followers are to him.

While his official role is that of a healer and the main refiner, he will be seen in various roles to help any number of his multiple boyfriends. He is also often the one sent out on missionary work as the most charismatic of the siblings.

HEKET was the fourth Bishop of the Old Faith, and the third to be betrayed. The second to be cut down and brought back, and the first to make moves when the group acts as a unit. The God of Famine and Fertility took over when Shamura’s injury proved too debilitating, acting as the big sister despite being the second youngest. She is strong, stern, and acts in the best interest of the siblings, which the Lambs respect despite the implications of her involvement with the extinction of the sheep and goats.

She is the strong silent type, overseeing the farming and cooking. She keeps to herself, when she isn’t busy making everyone swoon, intentionally or otherwise. Many men’s hearts have been broken when she made her preference for women clear. Much to the delight of many girls.

LESHY was the final Bishop of the Old Faith, the youngest and last to be betrayed. He was the first to be struck down and the first to be brought back, both times cut down in one single attack from Lambert. As the God of Chaos and Order, and someone who respects a good fight, he was easily converted thanks to Lambert’s dedicated attention to dealing with him.

Any attempts to assign Leshy to a duty end in failure. He often does whatever work interests him that day, to mixed results. So his “official” role is that of an enforcer, which he often takes to mean “the bookie, right? The guy that keeps track of all the bets? Yeah I got that, no problem.“  But he has no hesitation when it comes to helping Lambert take care of the cult.

[vibingandsimping]

hi there~

Would you mind if I request ascended and non ascended astarion falling for a very timid and innocent girl? Like his complete opposite. She's just so sweet, and caring, and pure. I like to think he spots her from his castle as she's picking flowers or something. Decides he just has to have her.

If not it's totally okay. I just saw your head canons and really enjoyed them

(I focused on ascended Astarion because I thought it fit him a tad more.)

You were a constant in his routine. When he first acquired the palace as his own. Every morning he’d spot you in a nearby field through the window.

You were a pretty sight. A natural beauty, he reckoned, though it seemed you knew how to enhance your pleasant features. A little makeup never hurt, after all. It was almost a ritual to open the blinds and watch you after his breakfast. He admired you from afar as he adjusted to his newfound position and power. He grew his spawn following and his confidence in himself. Astarion could have anything he wanted. He had everything but you. What was stopping him, really? You’d be so much prettier dressed in his clothes and in his walls. A wolfish grin spread along his features and he turned with newfound interest.

You were walking home from buying goods at local stalls. The sun was cresting over the hills and leaving an orange dew on the land. You’d make it home before night, you thought to yourself, as you walked the streets. It was the bounty of spring. A truly fruitful time for crop-sellers and a flower picker such as yourself. Flowers were versatile. Teas, decorations, jewelry… really, if you put your mind to it you could make anything of them. They were only one of your interests, though. Lost in thought you didn’t notice the stalker in the dark. One of Astarion’s spawn sent to capture you. Capture you they did. Hands locked around your front and mouth as they drew you from sight. All but a basket dropped on the ground as evidence. You didn’t even have time to scream.

Next thing you knew was the ornate halls of the palace. Ushered by the spawn into a throne room. Sat was a pale man with even paler hair yet eyes so striking your throat dried. He smiled at the sight of you and closed the distance with careful strides. He presented a flower from his pocket. A scarlet rose, you recall, and held it for you to take. You swallowed thickly, plucking it between finger and thumb. He grinned deeper at that, taking it as an invitation. “I’ve watched you for some time.” He began and your eyebrows raised in shock. Who was he? “I believe this will be much easier if you just submit, darling. I’ll take care of such a precious flower like you. I’ll give you everything.” His eyes betrayed his poised demeanor. They had a hunger in their depths. One that made you shiver. You couldn’t say no. Not with the bruising grip of your kidnappers assistant. You were caught in the jaws, unknowingly prey, so you’d lay limp and play along.

Who knows? Possibly this could be an arrangement that works well for you. If you decided to remain blissfully optimistic.

[jarofstyles]

Relaxation & Revelations

Helloooo. I Hope you enjoy. we're getting into the more serious part now, but it's gotttta be done don't it? 

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Warning- age gap/taboo relationship

WC- 3.3k

Previous part

____________

Y/N liked playing house with Harry.

It was a real problem, actually.

Her own apartment rarely saw her as she had been spending a lot of her time with her lover at his large, fancy and now mostly empty house. Y/N had helped Lia move in with her girlfriend, albeit a little bit fast in her opinion, she wasn’t one to judge. She was quite literally banging her father. All she could do was be supportive.

It was a weird mixed feeling in her chest. On one hand, she saw how fucked up it was. How she was betraying her trust, how she understood how it would disturb her if she had done the same- though no offense to her own, but she was safe in that aspect. It was not the best person to choose to fuck around with, but this aspect may be worse.

Falling in love with your best friend’s father is arguably worse.

Y/N knew it was going to blow up in her face at some point, but ever the optimist, she had decided to try and look at the positives and understand that whenever it came out, she would need to deal with the repercussions like an adult. Take whatever reaction there was and deal with it. It would be valid, regardless.

One of the mixed things was that Lia had caught on  about Harry seeing someone. She had wrinkled her nose and told Y/N that she had seen scratch marks on his back with no way he could cause them when she’d went to swim, that he had a hickey (that she had no idea Y/N had sucked onto his skin), and he had been noticeably happier. She had talked about how miserable he had been after the divorce, how for years he had hovered a bit because Lia had been his one focus, but she as glad that he was giving her space to breathe as an adult who was now out of college and supporting from a healthy distance.

“Y’know, I’m just happy he’s smiling again. He was whistling last time I came into his home office, ordering flowers. It’s gross because he’s my dad but cute because he deserves a second chance at love. Just like you!”

Y/N had felt both happy and guilty after that conversation.

Since moving out, Y/N had a steady drawer building in his closet. Her hair ties in a drawer in his bathroom. His room was their safe space considering Harry had built boundaries with Lia about it being his personal space when she got older, needing a room that wasn’t overrun with her stuff and a private place to breathe- just as he promised to stay out of her room. Y/N was free to lounge about his room without a care, use his giant marble bathroom to bathe and giggle with her bath bombs while Harry finished up work calls.

It was a nice little housewife roleplay. One Y/N realized could potentially be a reality if she played her cards right. Harry seemed to be just as into her, but she was still worried. He spoiled the shit out of her with his affection and newly, gifts, but she was always watching to make sure she didn’t overstep.

At some point they needed to have the dreaded ‘what are we’ talk, but right now? She really couldn’t risk messing it up. She was too happy, too comfortable with their slowly developing dynamic.

Sitting in the jacuzzi tub, the bubbles moved about as the jets massaged her back, a book in her hand as she enjoyed her bath. Harry’s bathroom was stupidly gorgeous. It had exquisite white and gray marble walls and floor, adding a touch of elegance to the room. The tub was surrounded by marble steps leading up to it, making getting in and out of the tub easy and safe, the depth of the tub something she hadn’t seen before.

The bathroom also had separate Mr & Missus sinks, each with their own marble countertops and elegant faucets. The Mr sink held a darker marble countertop, while the Missus sink had a lighter, veiny marble countertop. The sink was separated by a wide vanity mirror with those circular light bulbs to give the best possible lighting- though it was a tiny bit unforgiving, she could admit. No one needed to see pores that well. Underneath the vanities included cabinets and shelves for towels and other bathroom essentials- built in, Harry had provided. Made just for this particular bathroom, the black paint shiny and unscuffed.

The bathroom’s large shower with frosted glass entry doors also had a built-in bench. She could sit in the fucking shower! And… do other things. Harry liked that part and had shown her just how useful it could be.The space was complete with touches like gold-accented fixtures, eucalyptus hanging from the shower, monogrammed plushy white towels that probably cost more than her entire room at home, and a cozy, fluffy bathrobe hanging on the door- and he had sneakily brought one for her, too. The thought made her flustered. Harry was a very detail oriented person, and the things he could remember were slightly unsettling. He’d remembered her brand of face wash after seeing it once. One time!

Relaxing here had been a welcome part to her day after her shift. Being on her feet hadn’t done her well today, especially after being berated by entitled customers who thought that the prices were too high- as if Y/N herself made them. Being able to come here and crumble into Harry’s arms, have him wipe her pouty tears and promise her a meal after he finished his work for the day had made it significantly better.

“What’s the pretty girl reading?”

Y/N jumped, almost dropping the book into the foamy water as her heart pounded in her chest. She had been distracted and lost in thought, not hearing him enter in the slightest. “Fuck! You scared the shit out of me.” She squeaked, placing the narrowly saved book down on one of the steps outside the tub, her hand resting over her thundering heart.

“I wasn’t exactly quiet.” Harry laughed, that crooked grin making her want to sink down further into the bubbles. It was unfair that a man could be that devastatingly attractive. “Tripped over one of your shoes.”

Y/N pursed her lips together as she looked up at the ceiling, pretending she knew nothing about said shoe. “I dunno who’s shoe that could have been. Surely it wasn't mine!” Harry had warned her about it prior. Her two true bad habits were leaving her fake eyelashes on his nightstand- which he had once mistaken for a spider and squeaked, making Y/N laugh so hard she snorted- and leaving shoes in the middle of the room.

“Mm… I know I don’t own pink, fuzzy sandals.” He shot her a look. “”But I’ll forgive the discretion for a kiss.” Leaning over the foamy, rose and vanilla scented bathwater, he tilted her chin up and pressed his lips on to her own. The man took a seat on the side of the tub, Plaid trousers paired with a white button up that had the sleeves rolled up. His forearms looked particularly delicious, the vein she usually drooled over showing as he used his arm to hold himself up. Glasses sat in his hair, the reading pair not needed for seeing her face.

“Everything okay?” She chirped, looking at his tired eyes. Harry worked hard, despite having moved a lot of his days to work at home. He preferred it. As charming as he was, he was a homebody, a slight introvert. His work was better when he could stay home and focus.

“Mhm. Now it is.” He let out a sigh, taking one of her dampened hands in his own as he played with her fingers. “Had a long day of calls. Sort of takes the wind out of me. What was it you said- need to charge my what battery?” His eyes squinted as he tried to remember what she had told him a few weeks ago.

“Social battery?” An empathetic smile was given when he nodded. “I understand that. Mine too. We both have tomorrow off, though… So if you can stand seeing my mug for another day, we can sit and watch that show you wanted….” Even after a few months of this developing arrangement? Relationship? She felt a little nervous to invite herself to stay over.

Obviously, Harry did not feel the same. His face lit up at the suggestion, shaking his head at her self-dig. “I always want t’see your face.” He said seriously. “So pretty. My favorite one.” Leaning over, he playfully pinched her cheek to make her smile. “I think that’s a lovely idea. Don't really want to see anyone but you anyways.”

It was a little scary how quickly that had become true. Y/N had become his person very fast and it had happened without his permission.

It was easy with her. Once that tiny hint of awkwardness at the beginning where they didn’t know how to navigate the new development had fallen away, he found himself indulging in her. Spending more time than just the sex they had initially had. There was no way he could just simply fuck her and leave- even though he’s had to in the past- considering he’d always cared about her on at the very least, a human level. It had them planning nights away, Harry renting a hotel room for them for a night here or there, texting each other daily, even just to chat. She’s been so supportive and kind and he was fucked.

Her beaming grin nearly knocked the wind out of him, warm cheek leaning into his hand at his response. He could feel the smile against it, how she was flushed-  from more than just from the bath. Harry had that effect on her, had her smiling and blushing and he wanted to make her giggle all over again.

He always wanted to make the woman happy. More than he wanted to make her cum- and that was a fucking lot. This was a potential problem, sure, but he wasn’t about to give her up. He knew the risks that it was taking. Greatly upsetting his daughter, ruining a friendship, hurting his own relationship with her- but he just liked her so, so much.

——-

Y/N was older than Lia by 2 years, having started uni later because she wanted to work for a bit and save up some money for when she went. The girls had clicked immediately when they’d met in their third year. The first time she and Harry met, she had been polite. Sweet. Complimenting his car as she approached it with Lia, looking in interest and offering to help them both carry up her stuff into their apartment. Harry had found them both a good place and Y/N had offered to pay rent to him- but he gave her a very discounted rate. She had said she wasn’t comfortable accepting a free place which he could understand, but she was in uni. He’d feel like shit pocketing any of the money. So instead he had simply used the money to help buy them furniture when it broke, get them meals when it was a special occasion, putting it back into them.

He had seen her quite a few other times after the first meeting. She had begun to pop up all around, coming home with Lia on a break or a long weekend, going on their boat in that first summer, hanging around the house when Harry had worked more at the office. She’d become a fixture for a while. He’d enjoyed their conversations, her energy refreshing and sweet- but he hadn’t had any sort of feelings for her. Y/N had just been a kind girl that he appreciated talking to and being a good influence on his daughter. She’s been beautiful the entire time, sure. But there had been something those few months ago that had just made it all snap into place.

Last summer they hadn’t come over in a long while. Their last year of school had been hard on both of them, and he understood that they hadn’t wanted to take the trips back up to see him as often. He’d sent groceries and care packages for both of them, knowing that he had more than enough money. Y/N didn’t ask, but had become close with his daughter and had her straightened out a little bit. He wanted to treat her as well. The man had turned a blind eye to the credit card charges for clubs and bars because she had been on a straightened path for a while and her grades had improved.

Harry loved his daughter with his entire heart, but he knew that she had been a bit of a difficult friend for Y/N for a while. She had dragged her into things and made her play mother hen quite a few times. Sure, he knew she liked to have a good time out but there had been a period of time where he had gotten a few phone calls from a frantic Y/N asking if he could track Lia’s phone, or if he could see if she used the Uber account. Most of the time she had run off with a guy or girl and Harry had been apologetic those few times when Y/N had been the one to go off and find her. After the 3rd time, Harry had properly told Lia off and scolded her, letting her know that she was lucky to have a friend who cared as much for her as Y/N had and if she continued she would more than likely lose her for her own selfish actions.

Since then she had calmed- for the most part.

Having an empty home now, with Lia now moved in with her girlfriend, would have crushed Harry if it hadn’t been for Y/N. It had been different when she was at school, but knowing she left and didn’t necessarily want to come back except to visit had hurt his heart. He’d been lonely for a while, with the divorce and his daughter going away to school, but he had always counted on her coming back and staying for a while.

The man had a decent arrangement of friends, but only a few people he trusted. He was truly a homebody and kept a very tight knit inner circle, but it hadn’t been the same as having someone with him. Within arms reach. Someone who could lounge around in the living room while he worked and a face to greet him in the kitchen when he came out at lunch to grab a snack. He loved Mitch, but he knew he wouldn’t want to sit in his kitchen and make him a snack just out of the goodness of his heart like Y/N had been doing.

He also knew Mitch was going to be a bit shocked at the revelation of who he had been spending his time with lately as he sat at the bar with him- but he hadn’t expected him to choke on his beer, coughing up a storm as he grabbed at a napkin. His friend was usually calm, cool and collected, someone he thought would never be phased. Turns out, he had been wrong.

“You’ve been seeing who?” He asked once his throat was clear and his nose didn’t burn from the uptick of beer that had gone right up it.

“Y/N.” Harry said, blinking right back at him.

“As in, Y/N your daughter’s best friend? That one? Her old roommate?” He was speaking lowly and monotone, but he knew his friend. He knew he was absolutely shocked.

“Yes, her. Listen, I know it’s not ideal but it just… it happened. And I came to tell you because I’m so fucking happy but equally as terrified. Lia is going to be so upset and I don’t want that to happen, but things are getting deeper with Y/N and I finally-” he was interrupted by his friend cutting him off.

“Yes, Harry. Lia is more than likely going to be upset that her father and best friend are involved. It’s a natural thing. I’m positive she would never expect that.” He stressed. “It will be normal for her to be upset. I’d more than count on it.”

“Gee, thanks for the support.” Harry muttered, raising his glass to the words.

“No. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t be happy, H. I’m saying you need to expect that. It’s the reality of the situation. Y/N and Lia are not going to be the same but you need to ask if that’s a risk you’re willing to take.” His face softened a little bit seeing the anxiety written clearly on Harry’s features. It had been so long since he had that little light in his eyes again, and no one would want to ruin it. But he had to be a good friend. “Listen… I want you to be happy, Harry. We all do. But you need to wait and see if this is what you truly want. Don’t jump into telling her yet. In other instances I’d say honesty is the best but… If this doesn't last, if you start to get cold feet, you don’t want to cause an upheaval for no reason.”

Mitch didn’t want to doom the relationship- even though he sort of suspected he had having some sort of midlife crisis, he won’t mention it- but he wanted Harry to think and not get ahead of himself. “Have you guys talked about it yet?”

Harry squirmed slightly in discomfort, eyes falling to the glass of amber liquid in his hands. They hadn’t. It was a lot of reading between the lines. A lot of going off of emotions. He had real feelings, but what if she didn’t? What if this was just a fun fling for her? She was a twenty-something year old. Did she want to settle down? He wasn’t in a rush, but he didn’t have time for games anymore. He was grown. Did Y/N want something serious?

It had progressed over time. At first, it was a bit of dirty, naughty fun. He liked her a lot as a person and the sex had been hot and tickled a taboo part of his fantasies, but it had grown. Evolved. She stayed with him half the week, she slept in his bed, curled up in his arms as she listened to him read the news on the phone in the morning. She made him coffee and brought it to him in his office, sat in his lap while he scrolled through emails. It had gotten to the point where they didn’t even have sex every day. They’d kiss, cuddle, they’d chat, but it felt a lot like a relationship. One he had always wanted when he was younger. Far from innocent, but pure in its own form.

They needed to discuss the emotional aspects of it, but he was scared. Terrified, even, to bring it up and potentially ruin or disturb the lovely routine and vibe they had now. He didn’t want to scare her away, but Mitch was right.

He needed to know if this was real.