#but largely their voices. just quiet. and the emotions that flicker over their faces

[katierosefun]

y'know, i do think that actors are probably the closest that humans will ever get to a shapeshifter because sometimes i'll go through an actor's filmography and be totally taken aback by the sheer range of roles they've played and how violently dissimilar one role is from the other, so much so to the point that i'll literally forget that they played someone else and oh my god

[chvoswxtch]

first date

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: frank finally asks you out on a date.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: y'all have only been waiting seventeen chapters for these two to finally go on a date, but the moment has arrived! i'd like to give a shoutout to the main character of this chapter: frank's belt. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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Before you could even think about getting out of Frank’s truck and heading inside the Bulletin, his large hand reached over to grasp your own that was in your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze to capture your attention. When you turned to look back at him, there was a nervous glint in his eye. Nervous was not an emotion you were used to seeing Frank wear. As a matter of fact, you weren’t sure you had ever seen it, and it triggered your own nerves in response.

“I wanna ask you somethin’.”

“Okay.”

Despite the softness of your tone, your voice seemed to echo in the confined space of his truck. The way Frank’s warm brown eyes were darting back and forth between your own made it apparent that he seemed to be struggling with whatever it was that he wanted to ask. To soothe him, you turned your palm over in his large hand so that you could lace your fingers together and lightly stroked your thumb along one of his scarred knuckles affectionately. After an agonizing moment of tense silence, he let out a deep exhale through his nose and his rough voice broke through the quietness that had settled.

“What are you doin’ Saturday night?”

When the implication behind his question clicked in your head, a huge grin instantly split your lips completely apart to the point that your cheeks ached, and your eyes lit up with pure excitement. Tilting your head to the side a bit in a teasing manner, you faintly narrowed your eyes into a look of faux suspicion.

“Frank Castle, are you asking me out on a date?”

Frank blew out a puff of air as he turned his head to look out the windshield, letting out a quiet chuckle as the edge of his lips quirked up in a crooked half smile. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and when he turned to look at you again, his gaze flickered between your lips and your eager stare.

“Tryin’ to.”

Sinking your top teeth down into your bottom lip, you turned your body completely in the passenger seat so that you were facing Frank, still holding his hand in your lap while you sat up straight. As you looked over at him expectantly, Frank cocked one of his dark brows in silent questioning, prompting you to arch one of your own in response.

“Well, go on.”

“Go on, what?”

“Ask me.”

“I just did.”

“No, you said you wanted to. I didn’t hear a formal query.”

Frank rolled his eyes as he let his head fall back against the headrest, shaking it slightly while he let out a lighthearted scoff.

“You don’t ever make anythin’ easy, do ya?”

“I thought you figured that out by now.”

Frank clicked his tongue against his cheek, but you could see how hard he was fighting his amusement by the way the corners of his mouth twitched. Letting out an impatient huff, you rolled your own eyes and squeezed his hand to get him to look at you.

“Oh come on, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? I want the whole experience.” 

That got Frank’s attention. Turning his head to look at you, his thick brows rose up his forehead a bit, but only for a moment. His gaze then tapered while a cocky smirk lifted the left corner of his mouth upwards, and he motioned in your direction with his chin.

“How long?”

Heat abruptly flushed in your cheeks when your brain caught up with the confession your mouth let slip. Narrowing your own eyes at Frank, you let go of his hand and crossed your arms over your chest defiantly.

“You have thirty seconds before I get out of this truck.”

Frank chuckled deeply, causing light crinkles to fan around his eye sockets, and the unfiltered joy on his face made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. It never failed to amaze you how different Frank looked when he smiled. It was almost like looking at an entirely different person. One that wasn’t haunted by a separate lifetime of trauma and unbearable loss. He finally lifted his large hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Alright, alright.”

Twisting in his seat to face you, Frank brought his arm over to slide along the headrest next to you, and he slipped his thick fingers into your hair, moving them downwards until he could brush the rough pad of his thumb along your cheekbone delicately.

“Sweetheart, can I take ya out Saturday night?”

Almost instinctively, you melted into Frank’s touch, your cheek finding its home within his palm. There was a boyish grin on his lips, and you were tempted to climb across the space between you and straddle his lap so you could taste them. A sense of giddiness was fluttering in your stomach, and a smile born of pure happiness was strewn across your mouth.

“It’s a date.”

»»———　　———««

Frank was the epitome of a perfect gentleman. He showed up at your door five minutes early, although you had a slight suspicion he had been lingering in your hallway for far longer than that, and he had a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. Either you didn’t remember telling him what your favorite flower was, or Frank just really knew you. It was a simple, perhaps old fashioned gesture, but it warmed your heart. No one had ever gotten you flowers before, except for your mom.

To your surprise, Frank wore a black tie with his navy blue button down that was tucked into his dark jeans, and even threw a black blazer on top. You hadn’t seen him this dressed up since the night of the gala. It was kind of odd seeing him look so cleaned up. 

The restaurant he took you to had to be one of the nicest places you had ever stepped foot in. It looked like one of those places that charged you just to breathe their air, and you felt severely underdressed in the simple black dress you wore, even though Frank had complimented it at least three times on the walk over. 

A pristine white cloth was draped over the square table complete with the most shiny silverware you had ever seen resting on opposite sides of an eggshell colored plate. In the middle of the table was a small glass half sphere that had an ivory tinted tea light candle inside, creating an ambient glow in the dim lighting. Continuing the chivalry, Frank pulled out your chair for you and you quietly thanked him before he rounded the table to take his own seat. Your eyes were quickly drawn to the floor to ceiling grand windows to your right that had a breathtaking view of the Brooklyn Bridge all lit up. It was the perfect romantic backdrop.

But it wasn’t you.

And it wasn’t Frank.

He couldn’t sit still. He was shifty, tugging at the black tie around his neck, subtly bouncing his knee under the table. Frank’s eyes were constantly darting around, a habit of his you had grown accustomed to. Anywhere you two went, he was always hypervigilant, constantly sitting where he had a whole view of whatever place he was in, and a clear sight of all the entrances and exits. But tonight it almost seemed worse. It was blatantly obvious he was completely out of his element. He hadn’t said one word to you in the five minutes since the two of you had sat down at your table. Frank’s thick eyebrows were furrowed, an array of warring emotions flashing across his face while looking down at the sleek menu in his large hands.

Frank wasn’t the only one that felt out of place. You couldn’t hardly read a word on the menu, and the price for one single glass of wine made your eyes nearly pop out of your head. A few more minutes of silence passed before you glanced up at Frank again, and you noticed a few beads of sweat building along his hairline. He looked as uncomfortable as you felt. The other people sitting at neighboring tables around yours reminded you of people you had been introduced to at a dinner party with Steven once. It wasn’t as much of a dinner party as it was an excuse for Steven’s parents to show off their ridiculous multi-million dollar home, inviting New York’s elite to kiss his father’s ass while the attendees compared shiny new toys, scandals, and mistresses. That had been one of the most miserable nights of your life.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the waiter approached the table, hands clasped behind his back, looking between you and Frank with a polite smile. He was tall and thin, freshly shaven, and his dirty blonde hair was perfectly quaffed. He was dressed as if he were attending a black and white gala, not waiting tables. 

“Good evening, and welcome to Brasserie. My name is Andrew. It is our pleasure to have you dining with us this evening. Shall I start you with a glass of our 2014 Brunello di Montalcino ma’am? Perhaps a Manhattan with our twelve year barrel aged rye whiskey for you sir? They both pair well with our Seared Foie Gras.”

Frank was staring at the waiter like he was speaking a language he had never heard of. His thick brows were creased in evident confusion, and you had to attempt to stifle a laugh at just how adorable he looked in that moment. You cleared your throat to gain the waiter’s attention and gave him a polite smile of your own.

“Can we have a moment to look over the menu, please?”

Andrew gave a faint nod of his head, his hands still clasped behind his back. That polite smile looked like it was permanent.

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll be back in a few moments.”

After he retreated, you looked across the table at Frank curiously.

“How did you find this place, exactly?”

Hearing the suspicion in your voice, Frank adjusted restlessly in his chair, reaching up to tug at the tie around his neck with a low grunt. His eyes darted around the restaurant for the thousandth time since you had sat down.

“Bill recommended it. Pulled some strings, got us a table.”

Suddenly it all clicked. No wonder Frank seemed so uncomfortable. He didn’t pick this place; Billy did. This restaurant had Billy Russo written all over it. With that new information, the way he was all dressed up now made sense too. On one hand, it made you grin knowing Frank had gone to Billy for help planning for your first date. It was so…cute. You would’ve given anything to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. On the other hand though, while you appreciated Billy’s input and help, you wanted tonight to be about you and Frank, and this setting didn’t represent either of you.

Quickly shutting the menu, you placed it back down on your plate and stood up, which immediately grabbed Frank’s attention. His head snapped up, looking at you in a mixture of puzzlement and trepidation, and when you held your hand out to him, he stared at it like it was a foreign object.

“Come on.”

“Where we goin’?”

“Just come on.”

Following suit, Frank closed his menu and set it down on the plate, grabbing your hand and standing up from his chair. Lacing your fingers together, you lead him down the exact path you had taken from the host’s stand and exited back outside onto the street through the tall glass doors. After taking a few steps down the sidewalk, you paused and turned around to face Frank, dropping his hand to reach up and undo the knot of his tie, slipping the black material from around his neck and stuffing it into your purse. You unbuttoned the first three buttons of his dark navy shirt, giving you a glimpse of his tan skin beneath, and pushed the black blazer off his broad shoulders and down his large arms. Folding his blazer over your arm, you took a step back to take in your handiwork, and a tender smile caressed your lips.

This was the Frank you knew.

“Much better.”

Frank glanced down at himself before lifting his head to look back at you. There was a look in his eyes that you didn’t know how to read. His lips parted slightly, and then quickly shut. Turning his head to stare at the restaurant the two of you had just left, he was quiet for a moment before looking down at you again. This time, you could see a hint of uncertainty shining in his deep brown eyes under the illumination of the street light above.

“I’m sorry.”

Frank’s apology instantly perplexed you, and it was written all over your face.

“Sorry for what?”

He let out a deep sigh, looking over your head to watch people passing by on the street in opposite directions behind you. He lifted one of his large hands to nervously rub at the back of his neck before meeting your gaze again.

“I uh…don’t really know what I’m doin’, here. I’m a bit…outta practice.”

The honesty behind his confession made your heart constrict in your ribcage. You knew what he meant. Frank hadn’t dated since he lost his wife. He hadn’t been on a first date in decades. It suddenly occurred to you how big of a deal tonight was to Frank, and that made your features soften. Taking a step closer, you brought one of your hands up to gently place against his jaw, staring up at him with an understanding smile.

“It’s okay. So am I.”

The feeling of your soft hand on his skin made him physically relax almost instantaneously. His large hands came up to gently grab your waist, and he pulled you in flush against his chest, staring down into your eyes deeply. 

“I just…wanted tonight to be special for ya.”

The juxtaposition of his gruff voice speaking so softly sent a tingle down your spine and only made you melt into his embrace even further. He was trying so hard, putting so much effort into trying to achieve what he thought was perfection, not realizing that the one thing you wanted tonight was the man standing in front of you.

“Frank, it’s already special. I’m with you. That’s all I wanted. I don’t need all of that. You could take me to get hot dogs at the stand on the street corner, and I’d be thrilled.”

Frank’s lips tugged into a wide grin as he chuckled, giving your waist a faint squeeze while shaking his head.

“I ain’t takin’ you for a goddamn hot dog on our first date.”

“Why not? I like hot dogs.”

“I ain’t ever even seen you eat a hot dog.”

Fighting your own grin, you tilted your head to the side and narrowed your eyes lightheartedly while gazing up at him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be trying to impress me? Not arguing with me?”

Frank’s dark brown eyes roamed over your figure in his hands, a smirk stretching across his lips at the sass in your voice.

“Thought that’s what I was doin’ til’ you dragged us outta that nice place.”

“I wasn’t paying thirty-seven dollars for one fucking glass of wine.”

“You wouldn’ta been payin’ anyway.”

Rolling your eyes, you gave his bicep a gentle squeeze while smirking up at him.

“Okay fine, I wasn’t going to let you pay thirty-seven dollars for one glass of wine. That’s like…three times what I spend on one bottle.”

“Didn’t realize you were so high maintenance.”

Burying your face into his chest, you couldn’t stop the laughter that made your shoulders shake slightly. Frank’s arms slipped around your waist, hugging you close to his chest, and you could hear his own laughter echoing deep within his chest and feel it rumbling against your own. Leaning back a little, you looked up at him with a teasing smirk and arched one of your brows.

“You know, I’m surprised Maria ever went out with you. You’re kind of the worst.”

Frank stared down at you with a soft smile and his large hand rubbed up and down your lower back gently.

“You and me both.”

Even though the two of you were standing on a crowded sidewalk in lower Manhattan with dozens of people passing by every second, while the two of you stared at one another, everything else faded away. It felt like you were in your own little bubble.

“Alright, if you’re gonna fight me on hot dogs, what’s the compromise between that and a menu I can’t read or pronounce?”

“I had a back up plan.”

»»———　　———««

Frank took you to a small little Italian restaurant for dinner. It was owned by a family who had immigrated to New York in the 1960s from Sicily and had been passed down through the hands of several generations. The red brick of the walls had faded into a dull shade of rust, the wooden table was worn and chipped from several decades of use and hot plates, and the wine tasted like it had come out of a five dollar box, but it was perfect.

Both of you were so much more relaxed and at ease in this cozy, intimate environment. The owner of the restaurant, a charismatic older man named Tony with a thick Italian accent, talked you into ordering the Rigatoni Amatriciana, and it was one of the best dishes you had ever tasted. He also never let your wine glass go completely empty. Once he found out you and Frank were on a date, every time Tony came over to your table, he’d look at you before glancing at Frank and nudge his shoulder with a grin, nodding in your direction and saying ‘lucky man’. It never failed to make you blush, or to make Frank beam with pride.

This was the most laid back you had ever seen Frank. The wine was flowing, and you were trading bites of each other’s dishes along with stories. He was in the middle of telling you how he met Maria at a park when you nearly spit out your wine as laughter abruptly erupted from your lips.

“Wait, she said what?”

Frank was laughing just as hard as you were, covering the top half of his face with his large hand, his broad shoulders moving up and down rapidly.

“Swear to God, she says, ‘Hey buddy, you know anythin’ else? Because we’re sick of hearin’ you butcher this one’.”

Covering your mouth with your hand, you were trying so hard to contain your laughter, but the image of a nineteen year old embarrassed Frank getting called out by his future wife for playing guitar so badly was causing your stomach to ache from your fit of giggles.

“Were you really that bad?”

“I wasn’t bad, I was just…strugglin’, ya know? I was tryin’ to learn a new song, ya know…singin’ it out loud like an asshole. I was-”

Frank paused for a moment, like he was replaying the memory in his head, and then a grin split across his lips as he shook his head and started laughing again.

“-I was butcherin’ the hell outta it.”

Hearing the resignation in his voice when he stopped defending himself only made you laugh even harder, watching as he brought his glass of wine to his smiling lips to take a large sip.

“Wow, she must have really liked you to still go out with you after that.”

Frank set his glass of wine down and gave a light nod of his head, staring down at his empty plate with a soft smile on his lips and a somewhat far away look in his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah she uh…she saw somethin’, I guess. Somethin’ I couldn’t.”

Staring over at Frank quietly for a moment, you set your wine glass down before reaching across the table to place your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. When he glanced up to meet your gaze, you looked at him with a warm smile on your lips.

“It doesn’t matter if you couldn’t see it. She saw it, and it was special. That’s all that matters.”

Frank regarded you silently for a minute, and then a tender smile of his own crossed his lips while he brought your hand up to place a soft kiss to the back of it.

“You’re somethin’ special, you know that?”

Warmth caressed the tops of your cheeks and spread throughout your lower belly. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at you…it had those three words right on the tip of your tongue again. It was astounding how everything with Frank felt so…natural. He was the first person you didn’t have to pretend with or water yourself down for. He didn’t expect you to be anyone other than who you were. Tonight was the most relaxed and carefree you had ever felt on a date, or in any of your past relationships before. As badly as you wanted to shout those three words from the rooftops, you decided on another truth instead.

“You make me feel it.”

»»———　　———««

After indulging in the most delicious tiramisu you’d ever tasted in your life, you and Frank found yourselves in a small dive bar a few blocks down the street. It wasn’t too terribly packed for a Saturday night, and you two managed to snag an unoccupied pool table towards the back of the bar after ordering a round of drinks. Frank, being the gentleman he is, offered to teach you how to play, and even though you already knew how, you weren’t going to turn down the offer. It was far too enticing. 

For about half an hour, you let him explain the game, felt him pressing up against you from behind while he “taught you” how to hold the pool cue and how to aim, his large rough hands manipulating yours on the cue to demonstrate proper placement. After he was finished with his little lesson, and with the liquid mischief of tequila flowing through your bloodstream, you decided to make things interesting.

“I bet the next round of drinks that I can sink that seven.”

Frank quickly paused when lifting his beer bottle to his lips, arching one of his thick brows while an expression of amusement painted his features as he looked at you.

“Yeah? One lesson and you’re an expert, huh?”

Without offering a verbal reply, you winked at him before leaning over the pool table and lining up your shot.

The deep maroon seven ball glided along the hunter green felt canvas that’s vibrancy had been muted by decades of ashen smoke, complemented by faint rings from one too many sweaty beer glasses and other questionable stains. It sank into the corner pocket with a loud clack, and Frank’s attention flickered between the corner pocket and your form leaned over the pool table, an expression of complete surprise flashing across his features. 

Slowly rising up to your full height, you fought to contain the smirk that threatened to overtake your entire mouth, though a whisper of it could be detected at the corner of your ruby painted lips. Frank noticed it, he noticed everything, and it had him narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“You hustlin’ me?”

Placing the bottom of the pool stick on the floor, your fingers lightly slid down the smooth maple wood, lightly wrapping around the midsection while you lightly shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Frank stared at you from where he stood casually leaning against the edge of the table, one of his large hands resting on his hip along the leather of his belt, the other grasping his own pool stick with two of his fingers and his beer bottle with the rest. The dim light above the pool table cast a shadow over his sharp features that made his warm whiskey eyes appear more like deep pools of darkened espresso. His thick brows pinched, causing a crease in his forehead.

“You said you didn’t know how to play-”

“I never said that.”

The look of faux innocence on your features caused Frank’s eyes to darken, cocking his head to the side while staring at you in a way that was silently challenging you to prove his memory wrong. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you slowly began to round the expansive pool table, your lips stretching into a playful grin. Slipping between Frank’s large form and the table, you purposefully brushed your ass against the front of his jeans, eliciting a deep grunt from him in response. 

“You said you could teach me.” 

Leaning over the pool table, you arched your back a little more than necessary while lining your pool stick up with the cue ball, lifting your ass further up into Frank’s point of view. You didn’t need to glance over your shoulder to know that’s exactly where his hungry gaze was. You could feel it.

“Yeah, and you let me.”

There was just barely a trace of annoyance nestled in the gravel of his deep voice, and it made you grin. 

“Did you think I was gonna pass up the opportunity to let you bend me over something?”

The dingy ivory cue ball was lined up perfectly with the smooth electric blue of the two, but just as you were about to take your shot, Frank’s large hand wrapped around your hip and squeezed tightly as he pressed himself against you from behind, and your hand slipped. The cue ball sailed only a few inches ahead in the opposite direction you planned for, and you tightened your grip around your pool stick. 

Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you turned your head to look up at Frank over your shoulder, only to find him staring back at you with a burning intensity that ignited a flame of pure desire in your lower belly.

“That wasn't fair.”

“And wigglin’ your ass in the air, bein’ a goddamn tease is?”

Before you could respond, Frank leaned forward, pressing his firm chest right up against your back, letting you feel the heat of his body against yours. The spiced woodsy scent of his cologne overwhelmed your senses far more than the concoction that wafted in the dense air of the dive bar, and you could almost taste the beer on his lips when he leaned in so close that his large nose bumped against your own.

“You wanna play dirty, sweetheart? We’ll play dirty.”

Frank suddenly stood up straight and let go of you to walk around towards the opposite end of the pool table. He grabbed the triangular rack and retrieved the balls from the outlet below before grabbing the others that were still scattered across the table, and he set up a brand new game with a look of pure focus and determination in his eyes.

You couldn’t help yourself from being even more of a tease. Frank just looked too damn good, and you had a great buzz going. He’d loosened another button to your delight, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows exposing his muscular forearms. Leaning your pool stick against the table, you sauntered over towards the high top table to your right where your purse was and slipped your hand inside, pulling Frank’s long forgotten tie out. 

“If I win-”

Turning around to face Frank with a smirk, you noticed that he had paused his set up of the game and was now glancing between the tie in your hands and the look on your face in a mixture of intrigue and confusion.

“-I get to use this, on you.”

As soon as those words left your lips, Frank’s eyes instantly darkened. He stared at you in a way that made you want to abandon the game all together and drag him out to the alley to let him fuck you there, but you knew he wouldn’t budge. Frank didn’t back down from a challenge. He embraced it. His eyes flickered between the tie in your hands and your gaze, letting out a quiet grunt accompanied by a nod in response before removing the rack once the balls were set up in a perfect triangle.

Grabbing his beer bottle from the edge of the table, he motioned towards your pool cue with it before taking a large sip.

“Ladies first.”

Placing the tie back into your purse, confusion knit between your brows at Frank’s nonchalance. You stared at him from the opposite end of the table, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what you get if you win?”

Frank focused his attention solely on you, and there was a predatory look in his eyes that made you nearly sink to your knees right then and there.

“Figured I’d show ya instead.”

»»———　　———««

It took Frank twenty minutes to kick your ass. Twenty. Minutes. Why you thought you could actually beat him, who really knows. Maybe it was the confidence granted from the glasses of wine at dinner and the two margaritas you’d already had. Maybe you underestimated how good of a pool player Frank was, which was stupid on your part considering it wasn’t far fetched to think that his base had a pool table and he probably perfected his game during his tours in the Marines. Maybe you just didn’t give a fuck if you won or not because either way, you got Frank. He didn’t tell you exactly what he wanted if he won, but the fact of the matter was you could see in his eyes just what it was that he wanted and you were more than eager to give it to him.

Frank kicked the door to the small dive bar bathroom shut with his boot, taking his hand off you only for a quick second to lock the door. His kisses were hungry and aggressive, and even a little possessive. His large hands slipped from your waist down to your hips and finally reached around to land on your ass, squeezing roughly through the thin material of your dress. The action made you moan into his mouth, and he tore his lips away from yours just to attach them to your neck, leaving a wet trail of open mouthed kisses before speaking into your ear in a low and rough voice that had your panties immediately soaked.

“Been wantin’ to rip this off you all goddamn night.”

“No one’s stopping you.”

Frank’s large hands found their way to your hips once again, and he tugged your dress upwards until the hem of it was at the top of your thighs. Gripping onto your waist, he quickly lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the sink, the cool ceramic of it a stark contrast to the heated skin on the backs of your thighs. Just as you were reaching for his belt, he suddenly let go of you and took a few steps back, his tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip. Seeing the look of confusion on your face and the impatient pout on your lips, he stared at you with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Put your hands together.”

Blinking a few times, you continued to stare at him in perplexity. A crease formed between your brows at his words. 

“What?”

Frank didn’t tear his ravenous eyes away from you. They trailed over your figure, drinking in the sight of your dress bunched up to your hips, your thighs spread apart as you sat on the edge of the sink with your legs dangling below, a delectable view of your soaked panties. He took in the way your breasts rose and fell quickly from how hard you were breathing already, the heat that flushed in your cheeks, and the look in your eyes that gave away just how badly you wanted him.

Bringing his large hands to his belt, he slowly and teasingly started to unbuckle it. Despite the fact that you two were in a public space and anyone could come banging on the door at any minute, he was taking his time, making a show of pulling the worn leather from the metal buckle. 

“Your hands. Put ‘em together. I got a prize to claim.”

You were so mesmerized and aroused by the sight of Frank unbuckling his belt, you almost missed what he said. Lifting your gaze up to look at him, you seemed to get an idea of what he had planned for you, and it sent a thrill of excitement throughout your entire body. Without another moment of hesitation, you quickly pressed your hands together which earned a pleased smirk from Frank. He cocked his head to the side, slipping his belt from the loops of his jeans while taking a step towards you.

“Would ya look at that. You can do what you’re told. This what I gotta do to get you to listen, baby?”

An intense wave of heat pooled between your thighs at the way he was teasing you. His voice was so coarse and rough, but the way he spoke to you was smooth like honey. Biting down on your bottom lip, you gave a faint shake of your head.

“I’m listening cause I want it too.”

Frank was standing directly in front of you now between your spread thighs, and a grin stretched over his soft lips as he kept his head cocked to the side, staring into your eyes in pure hunger and amusement.

“That right?”

All you could manage was a soft hum in the back of your throat in response. When he started to wrap his belt around your wrists, your gaze quickly dropped to watch. The loud music playing outside was nothing compared to how loudly your heart was pounding in your ears. Frank carefully but expertly bound your wrists together, giving the leather a gentle tug to test his own work. Grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger, he lifted your head to capture your eyes.

“This alright?”

Nodding your head eagerly, Frank let out a soft chuckle. He lightly brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, leaning in to nuzzle his large nose against yours.

“C’mon now. That pretty head full of all them big words and you ain’t got none for me right now?”

“Hurry up.”

Frank let out a deep bellow of laughter at your impatient and rushed response, crinkles of delight fanning around his eye sockets.

“There’s my girl.”

Grabbing your elbows, Frank lifted your arms above your head, hooking your bound wrists on a piece of the light fixture above the mirror, leaving you completely at his mercy. He didn’t waste any time unzipping his pants to free his fully erect cock, attaching his lips to your neck once again while he pulled your panties to the side and pushed his hips forward. Immediately your head fell back against the mirror behind you the second that Frank’s thick cock nestled deeply within your snug walls and a loud grunt from him was followed by a desperate moan from you.

Time was not a luxury you had right now, and as much as Frank wanted to lose himself in you, he had to keep in mind where you were. Wrapping one of his strong arms around your waist, he pulled you closer to the edge of the sink, and while you wrapped your legs tightly around his lower back, he began to snap his hips swiftly. The glass was cold against the exposed skin of your back, and Frank was fucking you so hard, you thought it was gonna shatter from impact.

“Frank-”

He quickly placed his large hand over your mouth and whispered deeply into your ear.

“Shh shh shh, need ya to be quiet for me, baby.”

The sounds of your sharp moans and cries of pleasure were muffled by Frank’s large hand that was clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet. He buried his face into your neck, licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh, biting down gently to keep himself from moaning out. Every low grunt and groan Frank dripped into your ear was pushing you closer and closer to that edge that you wanted to free fall from. He was being rougher with you than he ever had, and it made your head spin. 

Tugging at his belt around your wrists, you let out a muffled whine against his palm. You wanted to touch him, but you were also enjoying this side of Frank too much to really care. Long gone was the gentleman who had picked you up at your door just hours ago with flowers in hand. Frank was fucking you hard and rough, and it was quick and messy, but it was exhilarating. Every time you were with Frank, it was like a brand new experience. He made you feel things you had never felt before, and gave you things you didn’t even know you were craving.

You could tell he was close when his pace started to falter. He began to fuck you relentlessly, and your legs tightened around his lower back. Your arms were starting to ache from being suspended above your head, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to really fucking care. You were far too turned on and dangerously close to coming. Slipping his hand down from your mouth to wrap around your throat instead, he pressed his forehead against yours and spoke lowly while staring deeply into your eyes.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t hardly speak. The way Frank was fucking you, his hand around your throat, your wrists bound above your head with his belt, the fact that you were in the bathroom of a dive bar; it all rendered you in incoherent mess. All you could do was nod weakly while letting out an obscene moan, staring at him with wide eyes in complete desperation. 

“Attagirl.”

That was all it took for a warm blanket of bliss to envelop you completely and stars to explode behind your eyelids. Frank poured sweet nothings into your ear while your hips uncontrollably bucked against him, and he continued to fuck you deeply through your orgasm. He dropped his hand from your throat and wrapped his other arm around your waist, hugging you tightly to his chest when his hips started to stutter. 

The sound of Frank calling out your name when he reached his own peak was something you would never get tired of. It sent chills throughout your entire body, and it only made it that much harder to not speak those three words that tried to claw their way out of your ribcage.

Frank gently brought your arms down and removed his belt from your wrist, slipping it back through the loops of his jeans before buckling it and zipping up his fly. Wetting a napkin, he carefully cleaned you up, pressing soft kisses along your jawline in the process. A hazy grin stretched across your lips as you slowly slid your hands up Frank’s biceps to wrap around his neck.

“We should make bets more often.”

He let out a deep chuckle as he grabbed your waist and gently lifted you up from the sink, setting you back down on unsteady legs. He helped you fix your dress before grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger, smirking at you.

“You ain’t gotta make a bet for that. All you gotta do is ask.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 27th

anakin skywalker x finger sucking

anakin was super observant by nature, being a jedi and all — so it wasn’t hard to pick up on your oral fixation.

“stop that.” he’d gently ease the pen out of your mouth as you follow beside him at the temple, struggling to keep up against his much longer stride. his voice is soft but stern as he confiscates the pen from you, tucking it into your pocket. “should i have purchased you a chew toy?” he remarks quietly, shaking his head.

anakin had decided it was ‘take your girlfriend to work day’ since lately you’d been worrying him. super quiet, yet super clingy — and above all, always chewing or sucking on something as you stare off into space vacantly, your number one tell when you were stressed or anxious. he couldn’t keep an eye on you when he was running his errands and doing his work at the temple, so he’d decided to bring you — shoving a holotablet and stylus into your hands and telling anyone who asked a vague tale around you being a ‘journalist’ permit to follow him around for the day and report his day as a jedi for some kind of political column.

of course, you were still refusing to talk to him about whatever was troubling you — but he knew you would when you were ready. in the meantime, you found new things to stick in your mouth — a few corridors later, it was your fingertip, lightly gnawing at the skin beside it as you follow your boyfriend closely, hazed out and brain a little fuzzy and submissive from the pressured mindset you were under. you were yanked from your thoughts when anakin huffed and forced your hand away from your mouth, gripping your wrist. “what’d i tell you, hm?”

his grip wasn’t painful or tight in the slightest but it startled you nonetheless, staring up at him with wide watery eyes and a puffy blubbery bottom lip. his chest deflates and he softens instantly, pressing his lips together as he looks around for any onlookers, not wanting to cause a scene. “alright.” he speaks calmly. “okay, c’mon.” he places a warm hand at the small of your lower back and guides you until he’s pushing you into a small meeting room with a desk and two large spinny chairs. he locks the door behind him and sits, pulling you into his lap.

you sniffle into his shoulder, gripping his robes tight and he nods knowingly, having been in this situation before. he knows it’s rich coming from him, but he wishes you wouldn’t let your emotions bottle up like this, unravelling at such an unfortunate time in public rather than the safety of your own coruscant apartment. “you’re okay baby. we’re all alone now, see?” he soothes you, letting you hiccup into him as he rubs your back, bouncing you like a baby because he just doesn’t know what to do with you.

you finally pull back, the sweetest sight to him — watery eyes, sniffly nose, trembling lips, brows all furrowed in a way that softened his toughened heart. “whats that look for, hm?” he sighs, warm breath on your face soothing you as he swipes your tears away with the pads of his fingers. he wipes beneath each eye, and then your nose on his sleeve before tracing his two fingers over your swollen lips. he didn’t think about it, was simply admiring you, but he didn’t miss the way your lips parted from instinct ever so slightly.

his eyes flicker up to yours, and then back down to your lips before pushing them in a little bit— just onto the flat of your tongue. he strokes your tongue with the rough pads of his fingers and your jaw slacks a little, tongue lulling ever so slightly, eyes fluttering and body starting to relax. “thats it.” he calms you, pushing his fingers in a little further, letting you wrap your lips around them. you suck, letting out a satisfied hum as you weakly grip his wrist in encouragement.

“yeah? that all you needed, sweet girl?” he leans back, taking you with him until your head is tucked beneath his, curled on his lap with his fingers in your mouth. “just so stressed aren’t you. just needed to suck on something. my good girl just can’t face all her problems today, hm?” there’s sympathy weighing down his voice and he rocks you a little, a small whimper of agreement leaving you. he massages your tongue once more and you drool a little on your chin.

“thats okay. we can stay here as long as you need, my love. i’ll make you feel all better.”

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Daddy Issues

Natasha X Reader

Inspired by the song Daddy Issues by the Neighbourhood.

Warnings: Physical Abuse, Trauma, Difficult Childhood, Hurt/comfort, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Panic Attacks.

Please consider these Warnings before reading. This is a Mature Rated Fic.

Y/n was the newest member of the avengers team and Natasha was very intrigued by the young woman. She was always on guard and had a mask similar to the spy to not let their true emotions show. Curious as to why, Natasha watched the woman with caution, her instinct to not trust and find out the truth had gotten the better of her. But the truth would affect her more then she realised.

Daddy stuck around but he wasn't present Cheated on your mom but she never left him

The Avengers were sat around the kitchen ready for breakfast when Clint said, “God this tastes exactly what my old man used to make,” his tone nostalgic as he remembered his father making him breakfast. The team laughed and started to talk about their own childhoods due to prompt from the archer. You tensed slightly at the topic but made sure your walls stayed high as you didn’t need anyone knowing. However you failed to notice a certain redhead saw how you started to just push your food around on your plate and remained quiet. Not wanting to be there anymore, you made a reasonable excuse to leave and smiled at everyone before leaving raising no suspicions from anyone else.

First I didn't get it, now I understand

“What’s that now? Like 10-0?” the spy teased as she had once again pinned you to the training mats. You huffed out in annoyance as you hated training with Natasha as it always ended in teasing and you on the floor is positions way too familiar, except you knew she would never purposely hurt you. Not like he did.

“What’s that from?” She questioned while seeing the large scar on your stomach as your loose t-shirt had ridden up while being thrown on the floor.

“Just a silly accident as a child.” You quickly brushed the subject aside while pulling the ends of the black fabric down to cover it. Natasha saw the ways your eyes flickered with fear and conflict before your mask once again came back up.

“Oh ok,” she said, acting convinced for you to believe her, “Want to go again? Maybe you’ll land a hit this time.” Her tone mocking in a playful way but it only brought you another painful memory.

You heard shouting coming from downstairs before a little knock at your door. Your younger brother peaked his head around the door, his eyes full of fear.

“Y/n?” his voice barely above a whisper as he came into the room searching for his older sister.

“Hey I’m right here,” you softly spoke to him, attempting to calm him down as you could see how scared he was. “Why don’t you spend the night in my room?” you asked while pulling him in for a gentle embrace. You felt a little nod against your chest and pulled him into your bed. “You stay right there for me ok? You’re safe in here, he won’t get you. I won’t let him.” You pulled back to see tears threatening to fall but he nodded once again before you went to leave the room.

“Y/n please don’t go. He’ll hurt you again,” he pleaded as you reached for the door handle.

“It’s ok Y/b/n. I need to help mommy,” you turned to look at him curled in your duvet, “I’ll be fine.”

When you reached downstairs all you could smell was alcohol as you saw him. Your father was screaming at your mother as her hand rubbed over the red handprint across her face.

“Get the fuck away from her,” you spat as you ran over to your mother and pushed the man out of your way.

“You want to say that again you little bitch,” he growled as he shoved you away from your mother.

“I said get the fuck away from her!” you shouted, the rage that was bottled up inside you was now spilling out.

“I’d like to see you try and land a hit on me you pathetic little bitch,” he snarled while taking a swig of the bottle of alcohol in his hand before advancing towards your sobbing mother again. With all your strength you pushed him over before he could swing the bottle at your mother. You didn’t register anything till you saw the panic in your mothers eyes and the sinister look on his face before feeling a sudden pain along your stomach and your shirt becoming wet and sticky.

“Y/n?” questioned the spy as you had zoned out after her question.

“Huh,” you looked at her before replying, “Oh. Uh no thanks, I’ve had enough for today.” You smiled at her while rubbing the back of your neck, your nails digging into the skin there to punish yourself you being so vulnerable. “I’m going to go now Nat. Thanks for training,” you smiled at her before leaving her alone in the gym.

He broke her heart, left money in her hand So everything got paid for

“So Y/n, what’s your favourite childhood memory?” asked Tony as the whole team were enjoying a nice night in, sharing stories to provide entertainment.

“There’s so many how could I choose?” you lied while laughing with the others, trying your best to avoid the subject.

“Come on,” Tony said with a hint of stubbornness in his tone, “There’s got to be one that’s your favourite?”

“Yeah come on Y/n,” spoke a few other Avengers

“Ok, ok,” you raised your hands in defeat as you thought carefully, trying to find a happy memory. “It was my little brothers birthday and my mother and father gave us money to go to the local fair with,” you started trying to talk about your father in a way that didn’t seem like he ruined your life when that’s all he did, “He wanted to go on every single ride with me and practically dragged me around the place,” you laughed at the memory of seeing his face, his smile bright enough to light up a room. “But we went on this one ride that was too much for him and he swore to me he would never go on a ride ever again,” you chuckled at remembering his pale face as if he had just done the scariest thing in the world.

“Hey you ok?” you asked as he stumbled off the ride, a little smile on his face.

“Yeah I’m fine,” he gasped out while walking with you to exit the ride, “ I am never going on another ride ever again,” he exclaimed while looking at you. You raised your eyebrow at his suggestion before he quickly said, “Hey I’m being serious! That was terrifying!” you laughed at his seriousness before giving him a side hug and looking for your parents. After scanning the crowd you saw your father talking to another woman, his hands on her waist and a flirtatious look in his eyes. You looked past him to see your mother stood alone smoking, looking as if she was about to cry on the spot. You suggested to your brother that you could go find a game to play to avoid him seeing your parents.

A hand on your leg snapped you back to your thoughts. Natasha saw how after a moment or two of remembering the event your smile seemed to falter so she tried to bring you back to reality.

“Seems like someone was enjoying the memory too much,” she joked before changing the subject to spare you. After a while you slipped out of the room and no one seemed to notice. Well except for a certain redhead.

A few weeks later you found yourself at one of Starks after parties along with your team mates who had all seemed to had a bit to drink from the earlier main party. You were the only one there who hadn’t drunk anything alcoholic as you refused to drink anything like that. You zoned out while everyone started to talk as this wasn’t one of the things you liked to do. You started to pay attention to what was happening when you heard two male voices starting to get louder. You gripped the arm of the sofa you were sat in while your leg started to bounce slightly in anxiety. When Tony and Steve had started to properly argue and shout at each other you felt your thoughts spiralling out of control. Flashes how he would shout at you mother filled your brain, how he would beat her for wanting the best for their children, no her children, he had lost the title of being your father the first time he hit your mother. Other painful memories invaded your brain such as how he would hit you, pin you to the ground and do unimaginable things to a child and laugh as he saw your brother and mother shy away in fear. Your breath started to quicken and your hands started to tremble so you decided you needed to leave the room as quick as possible.

Suddenly you stood up and left the room as everyone was preoccupied with stopping the super soldier and billionaire from fighting. You managed to get to the roof of the compound, the place where you would go if anything became too much such as now, before your legs gave way and you collapsed against the wall. You let your body take control as you couldn’t keep the emotions in anymore. Your whole body violently shook as you sobbed into your hands.

All you could see was him. His face. His hands as he held you down. The screams of your mother. Your screams. The silhouette of your younger brother watching. The smell of alcohol. The feeling of pain. The feeling of when he would-

“Y/n…” Natasha’s tone was laced with fear as she saw you against the wall. After seeing you leave when the boys had started to fight she seemed to piece together an idea of what had happened to you and went to check on you. You didn’t look up when you heard her you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. What would she think of you now? A weak girl troubled by her past? A pathetic excuse of a person? A waste of space? She stepped towards you to try and comfort you but you flinched away at the sound of her footsteps.

“Please,” you sobbed out, ”Please leave me alone,” you begged, “Please don’t hurt me,” you croaked out before glancing at her feet to see where she was.

And when you told me the whole story I felt like throwing up

“Y/n,” she softly whispered, “Its me Nat. I’m not going to hurt you I promise.” You looked up slowly to see the spy through your tear filled eyes.

“Nat?” your voice shakily asked.

“Yeah it’s me. Can I come closer to your?” She watched as you tensed up before nodding at her request, your eyes meeting hers.

I can see it on your face it was rough Left a bad taste on your tongue

She slowly walked towards you and crouched next to you so you could see where she was without raising your head too much. “Hey its ok Y/n,” she cooed causing you to relax, “I’ve got you now. Your safe.” She repeated the phrase again and again till your sobs turned to whimpers and your body wasn’t shaking as much. “Can I touch you?” she whispered scared if she spoke too loud you would feel scared again. You weakly nodded and she gently cupped your face with her hands and wiped away the tears on your face.

And she didn't even take any drugs She would rain all day Couldn't wait for her sun to shine

You looked into her green eyes expecting to see disappointment or even disgust but all you saw was love and care. You hesitantly reached forward with your hands, wanting to hold her close and find comfort in someone but you stopped. You didn’t want to cross any boundaries with her as you thought it was bad enough that she was seeing you like this. Picking up on what you wanted, she carefully moved her hands around your shoulders and pulled you into her lap. She held you close and tightly as you started to cry into her neck. You murmured apologies against her skin until she told you it wasn’t your fault. You stayed quiet after that and just held onto her. She didn’t realise how much you needed her but she was happy to stay with you through it all.

And you made it shine There when she cried, you saved her life

[bluelinen]

𝕴𝖓𝖋𝖑𝖚𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

Pairing: Friend's older brother!Choso x fem!Reader Synopsis: After a moment in the Kamo household the thread of your story has been entwined with those of the two boys who live there. One, a boy you met during your first semester of college who’s warm smile firmly burrowed it's way deep into your heart. The other, his older brother with an air of mystery and the sultry lingering scent of crushed cigarettes following close behind him. The way his eyes roam over you rocks your world and unbeknownst to even himself, he'd give anything, do anything just to keep your eyes fixed back squarely, solely onto him.

Your knuckles rapt several times on the wooden door and the moment your eyes caught sight of the figure behind it you knew you were done for.

Itadori had brought up his brother once or twice before. A quiet dude. Dishevelled looking, usually tired. Keeps to himself and almost never leaves his room, let alone his apartment. You expected something like that when Yuji sent a text informing you that he needed to get a few errands done so it’d be a while before he’d get back for that study session.

‘My big bro’ll be home, he’ll open up for you.’

Some hermit, a odd looking dude who looked like he’d never seen the light of day. While beholding him now you find that the description wasn't entirely a lie.. But god was it far from the truth.

Whatever.. whoever you expected, it wasn’t him.

The wooden door drew open and your face was immediately met with the faded print of the large t-shirt that fitted nicely over his broad chest.

You blinked. How tall was this guy? You considered yourself a pretty average height, a lot of guys were taller than you but this.. this was stupid. You had to actively tilt your head upwards and you obliged to do so, your eyes trailing upwards along the serpentine ink around his neck, the small head of the reptilian creature making an appearance just under the black stud in his left ear as the guy tilted his head to the side with indifference, stretching the muscles of his slender neck.

A soft yawn drew your attention to the lips that parted for its escape. You found it a lovely sound, a sound you wouldn’t mind hearing again once. Maybe twice. A couple more times actually..

You figured it wouldn't be long before you'd hear it again when your clear eyes flickered up to his far muddier ones. It was like he had just gotten out of bed. Sleeping a few minutes before begrudgingly coming to answer the door. Or rather attempting at sleeping, quite unsuccessfully as evidenced by the dark circles under his dark dark eyes.

Those deep brown lenses gave insight to no particular emotion or thought you found, but were still so mesmerising, so much so you almost didn’t register the large stripe of black tattooed over the bridge of his nose. Which was quite unprecedented considering the fact that it was the most noticeable feature of his face, stretching from the side of one cheek to the other. It was an unusual place for an unusual tattoo but you felt it fit him well as did his strong nose and his pretty.. pretty lips..

My god he was hot.

“You’re Yuji’s friend.. Right?” He asked, sluggishly blinking down at your form, his voice a mellow hum. A pale heavy hand reached up to scratch the back of his head, inching a few strands of hair out of it’s messy updo as he gazed somewhat skywards, seemingly addressing more himself than you. “He did say a friend was coming over...”

He blinked again and focused his eyes back onto you. “Uh.. You’re welcome to stay and wait for him till he comes back.”

You barely took in what he was saying, quite frankly struck dumb at the make of the man standing before you. There’s no way he was real.

You stared up at him, wide-eyed and an expression of slight bewilderment crosses over his. One eyebrow raising slightly, the twin piercings hooked into it moving with him as he took in your odd gaze. It wasn’t everyday he opened his door to find a stare like yours waiting for him. He shifted a little at his doorframe, waiting for your response to his offer.

A few seconds passed before you realised you’d been staring too long and your face warmed as you promptly swerved your gaze to the right, focusing on a small rut in the wall. You let out a nervous little laugh as you asked the obvious question. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

His features relaxed as he observed the change in your manner, giving you a subtle smile as he leaned slightly against the doorway, a tattooed wrist sliding into the pocket of his loose pants. “Would you like to come in and wait for my brother?”

You nodded a little in embarrassment. “Yeah.. That’d be great.”

He moved to the side, giving you space to step in. “Come in.”

As you moved in through the front door you heard a sudden jingle and subconsciously reached for your phone only for the guy to already have his in hand, his brows narrowing slightly at the screen before he looks back over to you again.

“Yuji won’t be back for a while.” He began. You nodded.

“He said he’d be picking up some things didn’t he?”

He shook his head slightly. “That was before. He’ll be gone a lot longer than whatever time that was supposed to take him.”

You wondered what on earth he was talking about until he uttered the word ‘coach’ and it all made a lot more sense.

“Ah..” You sighed. It wasn’t long before the vibration in your pocket informed you of the same thing.

“He says he’ll get back as soon as he can..” Your eyes glance over the ‘sorry’ message on the screen.

Knowing that man he’d probably keep Yuji there till the very next morning. You wondered if you should just reschedule, who knew when he’d get back.. But you’d already made your way here and to make a journey all the way back to that bus stop just to wait on transport with that unreliable timetable, in the cold too, didn’t seem all that appealing. You had your materials and counted on studying all the difficult stuff with Yuji.

Not that he’d probably be of help or anything but struggling together would be fun.. and he did say the most surprisingly conductive things at times. You didn’t mind waiting for Yuji but you also made a glance at his older brother standing before you, arms crossed as he looked over you with a pending stare.

You didn’t want to be a bother.

“You’re still welcome to stay if you want.” Choso states as if having sensed your dilemma.

You looked up at him with a small smile, feeling relieved to hear the simple sentence.

You nodded.

“Okay.”

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

A/N: Kinda realised that I should probably promote this fanfic on tumblr too :P

Chapter 2 is out on Ao3 !! if you liked this intro chapter check it out if you think you'd like to follow a more serialised story from me ^^

Art drawn by yume041624 on twitter/x & edited by me :33

[cmncisspnandmore]

One Night Stand; Part 5

Pairings: Simon x Reader

Warnings: Hospitals

A/n: Heres another sub par part, im sorry... I feel like im losing motivation to write this story, but im gonna keep going in hopes that it kinda just hits me like a freight train. Might take a break from this and do a few oneshots.

Word Count: 3309

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Your lungs ache.

A dull creeping ache that wouldn't go away. Air was forced into your lungs, and you sputter and cough. One hand reaching up to try and bat away the intrusion, to make the air that forces your lungs to expand painfully go away. 

“Easy, Love. You need to leave that on,” A gruff voice next to you soothes. The words float over you like warm water. A blam to soothe the raw nerve endings exposed over your entire body. Slowly the world starts to come into focus, the steady hiss of an oxygen machine. The quiet beeping of a heart rate monitor, and a second faster paced one that echos it. The harsh smell of disinfectant, and the scratchy sheets on your raw skin. 

“Simon…” You mumble, your voice so hoarse you barely recognize it. Talking hurts. Breathing hurts. At this point you weren't sure there was a single thing you could do that didn't hurt. 

“I’m here Love,” Simon’s voice is soft, muffled. His large warm hand taking one of yours, a small whimper passing your lips as the heat from his hand causes the raw skin of your hand to burn. Simon quickly lets go, opting to instead brush a strand of your hair back from your face. “Sorry… I didn't mean to hurt you..” he whispers.

“S’okay…” you mumble, finally finding the strength to open your eyes. His dark brown eyes meet yours, a torrent of emotion swirling behind them. His browns pulled tight behind the black and white skull mask that covers his mouth and nose. You can’t help the small smirk that plays on your lips as you see it. Finally it made sense for him to be wearing one, you just wished you weren’t the reason he was wearing it in the correct setting. 

“What's so funny?” Simon grunts, his brows furrowed even more.

“The mask…” you cough and rasp, “finally wearing it in the correct setting.” 

Simon makes a small sound, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. Your eyes flickering around the bright white room. It was set up like any other hospital room, although this one seemed nicer. There was no curtain separating the room in half so another person could be in the room. It was just you and Simon, the TV on, the soundless news flashing across the screen. 

“What happened?” You rasp, sucking in a pained breath as the oxygen machine forces more air into your lungs. 

“Your apartment building caught on fire.. I found you on the stairs..” he leans forward in his chair, resting  his forearms on his thighs. Your eyes trail down to his arms and you notice the soot and ash that still clings to the fabric of his shirt. The small holes that burnt through the thin fabric, revealing the smallest parts of his tattoo. 

“How did you find me..” you mumble, your eyes burning like someone scraped them with sandpaper. 

“I was already on my way when I saw the smoke, one of your neighbors said she hadn’t seen you. The fire truck was still a few minutes out… I’ve run into worse things than burning buildings.” 

“That’s stupid of you….” 

“It’s part of my job, love,” he laughs slightly, “although you should sue your landlord. Bloody bastard didn’t even have a working fire system.” 

Silence settles over the room, the machines offering white noise. You allow your eyes to close, the burning becoming too much to ignore. As you lay there, listening to the sounds of the machines and Simon’s breathing, the soft whooshing sound catches your attention. 

You force your sore eyes open once more and turn to look at Simon, his head resting on his palm. His elbow propped up on his knee. “Is… is that the baby’s heartbeat?” You ask softly, Simon’s brown eyes meeting yours over the fabric of his mask.

“Yeah.. they wanted to monitor them… make sure the smoke inhalation didn't hurt them at all,” he whispers, behind the mask you can tell he's smiling. The way his eyes crinkle around the edges, and the way the mask moves ever so slightly.

“I still can’t get over the fact that there's an actual baby…” you mumble, dry eyes sliding closed again. 

“Me either, Love, me either…” Simon murmurs, allowing the steady whooshing sound to fill the room again. As you laid on the bed, you started to take inventory of your injuries. Nothing felt too burnt, your skin aches like a bad sunburn, and a spot on your shoulder stung. Your lungs burned with each breath but it wasn't unmanageable. Your throat felt raw and dry, and your eyes felt like you had walked into a sandstorm with them wide open. 

A soft knock on the door draws your attention back to the room. Blinking slowly the room comes back into focus, a woman stands at the door. A white coat adoring her, as she pokes her head in. Her kind blue eyes reminded you of Soap’s, as she steps into the room. Her heels clicking on the tile. 

“Hi, I'm Dr. Rykes. How are you feeling?” She asks softly, coming to stand at the foot of the bed, grabbing the metal clipboard that hangs there. She looks it over for a few minutes, flipping the pages back and forth, her brows pulled together.

“I’m okay…” you mumble, as Simon shifts in his seat. His hand comes to rest on your hand again, this time you're prepared for the slight sting of his body heat on your hand so you don't flinch. You just subtly turn your hand over so his hand rests against the less sensitive skin of your palm. 

“You’re probably going to feel like you have a sunburn for a few days, the intense heat from the fire can make your skin sensitive. You’ll also have some discomfort breathing and swallowing. But you made it out relatively okay, you did sustain a second degree burn on your shoulder, which will need to be redressed a few times a day,” she smiles, and looks up at you.

“When can she go home?” Simon’s voice startles her, and she looks over.

“In a few hours. I just want to monitor the baby and her oxygen stats,” she sets the clipboard back on the edge of the rail. “Do you have someplace to go?” She looks at me, her blue eyes filling with sympathy.

“Oh-” 

“She’ll be staying with me,” Simon cuts you off.

You look over at him, your brows pulled together, “Simon.. I can’t ju-” 

“Shh, you’ll stay with me until we can find you a new apartment,” His tone cuts off any argument that starts to form. After a few more questions and the doctor telling you that you need to take it easy and if you have any change in your breathing you are to come back immediately, she leaves. 

“Simon.. I can't just crash at your apartment.. I can get a hotel,” you turn towards him, his hand still on yours. 

“You can, and you will,” Simon's fingers tighten around yours. The warmth from his palm sends tingles over your skin. You wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms to make all the anxiety that was bubbling under the surface of your skin disappear. 

“Bu-” 

“No,” Simon deadpans, “You will be staying with me, I’m not going to let you live in a hotel and then take the first available flat you find. You’ll stay with me until we can find you a nice flat, with plenty of room for you and the baby.” 

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, and chew on it. You didn't want to have to rely on Simon, but you also didn't have much of a choice. You lost everything, not that there was anything of importance in the apartment. But your laptop was gone which was your main source of income. Your eyes flicker over Simon’s face, he leans back in the chair. His arms crossed across his chest as he looked at you. His brown eyes are full of determination. 

“Okay.. fine.” 

A smile creeps across his lips under his mask, his eyes shining slightly, “good girl.”

Warmth spreads through your chest at his praise, your cheeks heating as he watches you. For the next few hours you doze off, waking up every once in a while to hear Simon on the phone with someone. Eventually the doctor comes in with your discharge papers and gives you the okay to go to Simons, with instructions to follow up with your primary care in a few days. 

~~~~

Simon pushes open the door to his place, the warm yellow lights a stark contrast from the bright LED lighting in the hospital. Simon's hands rest on your waist, his fingers pressing softly into the flesh of your hips as he guides you towards his couch. You pause as you take in the state of the living room, the entire floor is covered in shopping bags from various stores. Even a few boxes filled with unbuilt furniture, the faint sound of shuffling comes from the bedroom. 

“W-what is all this?” You look over your shoulder at Simon who removes his mask, tossing it onto the counter behind him.

“I had Soap and Gaz pick up a few things for you,” Simon grunts, pulling you over to the couch and making you sit.

“You didn't have to do that…” You mumble as he bends, picking up a few of the bags and taking the clothes from them.

“You need clothes..” Simon states, as he holds the items of clothing in his hands. They look small in his large hands, as he folds them neatly placing them in piles on the arm of the couch next to you. “If you don't like something we can return it and get you something you like.”

“Oi! Ouch!” A thick Scottish accent calls from the bedroom, a moment later Soap emerges from the bedroom rubbing the side of his head. His bright blue eyes land on you and a smile breaks out on his face. “Lass!” He calls as he comes over and wraps his arms around you.

“Hi, Soap,” you mumble into the fabric of his shirt.

“I was worried about you, I just put up some shelves in LT’s closet for ya,” he smiles as he pulls back slightly, his hands resting on your upper arms. He looks you over for a few moments, shaking his head as he takes a step back. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” you smile, “we both are.” You place your hand over your lower stomach, and Soap smiles wide.

“Well, I'll leave you two to get settled,” he turns towards Simon, “I’ll come by tomorrow to help you put together the rest of the stuff, but I think both of you need some rest after the night you had.” 

“Thank you, Johnny,” Simon nods as Soap gathers his things and heads for the door. 

As the door closes behind Soap, you look over at Simon. “You really didn't have to do all this..” You trail off, looking at all the bags again. Tears prick in your eyes as you take in the sheer quantity of stuff Simon had bought for you. There were at least a dozen bags of clothes and shoes, a few filled with bathroom products that you never even thought of using. Soaps, Shampoos, and bath oils of different scents. The last time someone did something like this for you was when your mother bought you stuff for your house when you bought it. 

Your mom.

The memory knocks the air out of your lungs. She would’ve been so excited to be a grandmother. She was always telling you how she couldn't wait to spoil her grandkids. How she wanted to make so many new traditions with them. Shower them in love like she did you and your siblings. But now she would never know what it was like to hold her first grandchild. She would never experience the joy of hearing their heartbeat. She wouldn't be able to be there for their birth, to hold your hand and coach you through it. 

She was gone, buried 6 feet under the ground. Alongside your brother and sister, the only family you ever had. Tears spill down your cheeks, leaving streams of tears that burn like fire on your sensitive skin. Your throat feels tight with emotion as you pull your hands up to your face to try and hold back the emotions bubbling over. 

You lost your family, your first house, and now your apartment in the span of a year. You had to start over again. 

The couch next to you dips, as Simon settles on it. His large arm wraps around you as he pulls you into his chest. His hand is careful of the burn on your shoulder, as he puts his other hand on the back of your hair, pressing your face gently into his chest. Your shoulders shake as the silent tears turn into heartbreaking sobs. Your fists clutching the fabric of his shirt as he holds you gently. 

“You’re okay…” He murmurs into your hair, his hands gently ghosting across your back. 

Simon holds you in his arms as you shake, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he takes in your distressed state. He expected you to be upset, you had just lost your apartment, but the way you’re breaking down in his arms makes his gut twist. This was something more than losing an apartment, more than losing a few items in a fire. 

The cries that echo around the apartment in the early morning light were filled with something deeper. They were full of pain, the type of pain you feel when your entire life is ripped away. The kind of pain he felt when he found his family murdered after being buried alive and tricked by a brainwashed Sparks. Simons hands ghost along your sensitive skin as he tries to comfort you. His lips pressed against your hair that still smells of smoke, as he murmurs soft words to you.

You look so small in his arms, your entire body shaking with emotion you are desperately trying to contain. If he really wanted to, Simon is sure he could break you in half with one squeeze. Your small frame was no match for his strength, one strong wind seemed like it could blow you over. He knew that the cries that bubbled up from your chest weren’t meant for his ears. In the short time he's known you, he's noticed how you guarded yourself despite the apparent anxiety that seems to plague you. It took a lot of courage to seek him out after finding out you were pregnant, and he admired the strength it took. But beneath the walls you put up to protect yourself there was clearly someone who had witnessed something terrible and was no longer comfortable in the world they lived in. 

As your sobs quiet into small hiccups, Simon looks at you, your eyes puffy from crying. Your cheeks flushed, lips parted as you pulled air into your aching lungs. You were still as breathtaking as you were in the alley behind the bar, even with your tear stained cheeks. Your eyes meet Simons as he looks down at you, as you look at each other Simon swears he can see the walls going back up. In a matter of moments the lost, hurt look in your eyes is replaced with the carefully constructed facade you built to fool the people around you that you were okay. 

But Simon saw through it. He could see through the fake happiness you put on for everyone else, he could see through the mirage of ‘i’m fine and i’m okay’. He could see that behind those walls you put up to protect yourself you were broken and scared.

But it didn't matter to Simon, because in the moments were breaking down in his arms, when your face was streaked with tears, and you were gasping for air. You were the most beautiful, because in those moments, you were honest. That's when he found you the most beautiful, because despite all the pain, you were still here. You were still going, and that kind of strength that no one could take away from you. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, gently wiping your cheeks with your hands despite the burning sensation.

“Don't apologize,” Simon’s arms are wrapped around you, blanketing you in warmth.

“I don't usually.. Just break down like that,” you mumble, “I was just.. Its been a long time since someone has done something like this for me.” 

“You don't have to explain it to me.”

You shift slightly so you’re sitting a little further from him, his thigh pressed against yours. His body heat seeping through the fabric of his jeans into yours, as you clear your throat. Simon leans forward his elbows resting on his thighs as he rubs a hand across his face. In the dim lighting of his flat you notice just how tired he looks. The bags under his eyes are darker, and his eyes lack the shine that they normally have. 

“Why.. why don't we go through this stuff after a few hours of sleep, yeah?”

Simon looks over at you, and nods. “That sounds like a good idea, we both need some sleep,” he stands, holding his hand out to you.

“Are you okay with sharing the bed for tonight?” he asks, “I just don't have the energy to convert the couch to a bed right now.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks,”oh, yeah of course.” 

Simon smiles, and leads you into his bedroom. It looks exactly as it did when the night you fell into bed with him. The bed is neatly made, the walls still bare of personalization, but there's a small stack of books on the nightstand. The laundry basket in the corner has a few new blankets piled on top of it to be washed. Simon walks to his closet and pulls out a shirt and pair of sweatpants, holding them out to you. 

“Here, you can wear these tonight,”

You take the items and smile, the scent of simons cologne clings to them as you head towards the bathroom. After you close the door you press them to your nose, inhaling his comforting scent for a moment before changing. As you peel off your shirt you take in the thick white bandage that covers your shoulder blade. The skin around it is slightly pink, the tape holding the bandage in place pulling your skin taught. You carefully slide the oversized shirt over your upper body and tuck the front of it into the waistband of the rolled up sweatpants. 

When you emerge from the bathroom Simon is already laying on the bed, the blankets pulled up to his waist, his chest bare. His tattooed forearm slung over his eyes, as he lays against the pillows. His breathing is soft and slow as he sleeps. Your eyes trail down his chest and stomach, before you force yourself to look away. You climb into the bed, it dips under your body weight and you turn onto your side. Your arm under your pillow, your injured shoulder off the mattress as you reach over and turn off the small bedside lamp. 

As you pull the blanket up over yourself, Simon rolls over in his sleep, his arm coming to wrap around your waist. He tugs you backwards to fit against his chest, his hand resting over your lower stomach. His breath tickles the back of your neck as your own heavy eyes fall closed and sleep pulls you under. 

Next: Part 6

Taglist: @coffeeandtealol

[ajaxwfe]

Lost affection

Alhaitham x reader

Angst with fluff

Alhaitham's unwavering dedication to his career has led him to neglect the emotional needs of his partner. As the chasm between them widens, they grapple with the pain of their fading connection, haunted by guilt and regret.

Neglecting, guilt, angst, fluff, regret.

Kinda of modern au!

In the dimly lit room, Alhaitham was hunched over his desk, surrounded by a chaotic mess of papers and the soft glow of his laptop screen. He'd been at it for hours, days even, neglecting everything and everyone, including you.

You watched him from the doorway, your heart heavy with a mix of concern and frustration. The once vibrant spark in his eyes had dimmed, replaced by an exhausted, distant gaze. It was as if he had disappeared into the world of work, leaving you to stand on the periphery, forgotten.

"Alhaitham," you whispered, your voice barely reaching him. No response. You took a step closer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You've been working non-stop. Please, take a break. I miss you."

He finally turned to look at you, and for a moment, you saw the guilt and fatigue etched in his expression. "I can't, not now," he mumbled, his voice strained. "I have so much to do, and I can't afford to stop."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized that he was drowning in his responsibilities, and there was no room for you in his world anymore. The neglect had become a painful reality, a silent chasm between the two of you.

You retreated quietly, closing the door behind you. The weight of his absence settled on your shoulders, and you wondered if there was a way to break through the walls of his relentless work and bring back the Alhaitham you once knew.

Days turned into weeks, and the chasm between you and Alhaitham continued to grow. He was consumed by his work, barely acknowledging your presence. The moments you once shared, the laughter, the intimate conversations – all of it seemed like distant memories.

One evening, you decided to make a simple dinner, hoping it might bring some normalcy back into your relationship. As the aroma of the meal wafted through the house, you set the table with care, your heart heavy with anticipation. Alhaitham had been working late into the night for weeks, and you longed for a shared moment, a connection that went beyond fleeting glances.

When he finally appeared at the doorway, you could see the exhaustion etched on his face, but there was something else – a hint of sadness in his eyes. He glanced at the table, surprise flickering across his features.

"What's all this?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

You gave a small smile, trying to hide the hurt. "Just a dinner for two. I thought we could take a break from work and have a quiet evening together."

Alhaitham hesitated, torn between his mountain of tasks and the desire to reconnect with you. In that moment, he made a choice that would shape the future of your relationship. With a sigh, he put his work aside and joined you at the table.

As you shared the meal, the two of you talked about everything but work. You reminisced about the adventures you'd had together, the dreams you'd once shared, and the love that had brought you together. Alhaitham's walls remained high, and he barely opened up about his feelings.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, realizing that perhaps the distance between you had become insurmountable. The dinner offered a temporary respite, but the underlying problems still loomed large. You missed the warmth of his presence and the connection you once shared, but it seemed like he was slipping further away, buried under the weight of his work.

The dinner ended in an awkward silence, the unspoken pain hanging heavily in the air. Afterward, Alhaitham retreated back to his workspace, his laptop screen once again casting a cold, bluish glow on his tired face.

You watched him for a moment, your heart heavy with a sense of despair. It was clear that the gulf between you had become too wide, and your attempts to bridge the divide were met with resistance. You couldn't help but wonder if your relationship was slipping away, as Alhaitham remained entrapped in his never-ending cycle of work.

Nights turned into a relentless pattern. You went to bed alone, while Alhaitham continued to toil away in solitude. It seemed like he had lost sight of everything beyond his professional obligations. Your loneliness was palpable, and the weight of his neglect felt like a physical burden.

One evening, as you sat in the dimly lit living room, the cold silence pressing in on you, you realized that something had to change. You couldn't continue like this, with your relationship crumbling and your own needs constantly ignored.

You mustered the courage to confront Alhaitham, who looked up from his work, his eyes carrying the same distant look they had for weeks. "We can't go on like this," you whispered, your voice shaking.

Alhaitham's gaze met yours, but his response was distant, his voice flat. "I have no choice. The work is never-ending, and I can't afford to stop. Please stop being a nuisance."

As you stood there, a sense of hopelessness washed over you. The neglect had taken its toll, and it seemed like there was no way to salvage what was left of your relationship. The distance between you both had become an unbridgeable chasm, and the sadness in your heart was immeasurable.

As the heavy words hung in the air, you saw something change in Alhaitham's eyes. A flicker of recognition, a hint of guilt, perhaps even a touch of regret. He seemed to realize the depth of the pain he was causing you, and it weighed on his conscience.

"I know I've been neglecting you," he finally admitted, his voice heavy with remorse. "I never wanted it to be like this, but the pressure at work has been overwhelming."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt a glimmer of hope, a tiny crack in the wall he had built around himself. "Alhaitham, I miss us. I miss the connection we used to have."

He sighed, rubbing his temples as if the weight of the world rested there. "I miss it too, but I'm trapped in this never-ending cycle, and I don't know how to break free."

You reached out and touched his hand, a silent plea for him to see the pain you were in. "We can find a way together. I don't want to lose what we have."

Alhaitham's eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and vulnerability. "I'm so sorry for neglecting you. Let's try to find a way to make things right."

It was a small step, but it was a step nonetheless. The guilt he felt was a sign that he recognized the damage he had caused, and perhaps, with effort and understanding, you both could work to rebuild what was broken. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but it was a start in the direction of healing and restoring the love you once shared.

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

— The Archer | R. Targaryen *✧･ﾟ

▹ Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader

▹ Genre: Angst and Comfort

▹ Words: ~3.7k

▹ Summary: All of Rhaenyra's enemies started as friends and she's terrified you'll be next.

▹ Note: Your Honor, I'm gay.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

There'd been a shift in your relationship with Rhaenyra.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it had happened or the exact reason for it. But something had changed. No longer did she freely show her affections in the privacy of her chambers, nor did she reach out to hold your hand in hers. Cold and distant, Rhaenyra didn't call on you as much as she previously had. 

Paranoia had you in its claws; had you done something wrong? Did she find someone else to fall in love with? Perhaps someone she could be with so publicly, not a lowly handmaiden she could only ever have in the quiet of the night. 

Your heart hammered with anxiety and suspense; tossing and turning, sleep had evaded you as you began to keep tally of how many times Rhaenyra called on your aid. The most in one day had been three, and she used to call on you double that amount just to be in your presence. Something was wrong; you just didn't know what. 

She wouldn't even meet your gaze anymore. 

It made you squirm when in her presence, where once you had been at complete ease. Doubt made your sunny skies turn gray as insecurities gnawed on you. Did she rekindle her friendship with Queen Alicent and leave you in the dust? Or was it Daemon Targaryen who captured her attention from you? Perhaps someone new to the court you hadn't even realized was a threat. 

There was nothing to do; you were helpless, unable to act as the woman you loved drifted further away. Goodbye was screaming in the silence between the two of you.

Hands shaking and breathing unsteady, your footsteps echoed in the dark halls, its flickering candles casting monsters in the corner of your vision. Your fingers gripped the serving tray in your hand so tight that all circulation had been cut off as your knuckles turned white. The decanter of wine shook, and its sound called out just how terrified you were. 

The princess had requested red wine as she prepared for bed, and you were terribly anxious this would be the night she'd officially end the relationship the two of you shared. But you didn't want that; you didn't want to face the harsh reality that everything was crumbling around you. You'd take awkward silence over definite endings. 

All too soon, you reached her chambers, the doors looming over you in a mocking manner. Carefully, you raised a single fist to the door and knocked, the rap of your fist almost as loud as the beat of your heart. A lump was caught in your throat as you waited.

"Come in." The walls muffled Rhaenyra's voice, but you'd heard them well enough, always too aware of anything related to Rhaenyra. And maybe that was where you went wrong. Blinded by the princess, you took her words as an oath and not the petty dalliance she probably viewed it as. 

Carefully, hands still shaking, you opened the door. The sweat on your palm nearly made it stick to the cool metal of the knob.

The room was dimly lit by half-melted candles and candelabras spread throughout the large chamber. The duvet on her large bed was pulled back, inviting her to sink into the plush mattress of cloud-like pillows. Rhaenyra sat in front of her vanity, hair loose and unbraided, dressed in a night dress and a silk robe. She turned her head as you entered, purple eyes carefully watching you with an unreadable expression. 

She used to look at you with warmth and vibrant affection, every emotion she felt visible on her face. Now it was like looking at a statue, harsh and emotionless. The pit in your stomach burrowed deeper, and your heart got caught in your throat. Where did it all go wrong?

Your eyes darted from her, unable to stare any longer without bursting into tears. The walls were closing in on you as the ability to breathe was taken from you. Like a rat, you hurried to the other side of the room, setting the tray on a small table. 

You opened the decanter, pouring the red wine into the glass. You took your time to avoid spilling anything. You needed to be out of the room as soon as possible. The weight of Rhaenyra's eyes on you was equivalent to the ceiling collapsing onto you. A scenario you would've preferred over this one; at least then death would be quicker than this slow burn. 

There was a soft clank as you set down the crystal decanter. With the glass of wine in hand, you turned and walked towards Rhaenyra. Eyes lowered to the floor, and counting each step taken, you set the glass on the vanity, a few inches from Rhaenyra's hand, that tightly gripped the wood's edge. 

You didn't mutter a word, simply lowering into a slight curtsey before turning and exiting the room. Except you hadn't made it that far, only crossing half of the room before Rhaenyra spoke. 

"Wait." 

You stopped in your tracks, the hammer of your heart so loud you wouldn't be surprised if all of Dragonstone heard it. 

"Come here."

Your eyes fluttered shut, unsure whether you should be relieved or terrified. She would either take you in her arms as she had nearly every night the past year, or she'd fully sever the thread that tied the two of you together.

Deeply you inhaled, held it for a moment, then exhaled, opening your eyes. You turned, eyes still on the floor, as you returned to where Rhaenyra sat. You waited for her to speak, terrified of what she may say. So silent you could've blended into the walls; things had never been this way between you. Rhaenyra had always been more of a friend than a superior and then a friend that became a lover. 

But now she would become a stranger again.

"Would you brush my hair and plait it for bed?" She spoke to you as if you were a stranger, even-toned and perfectly polite. But perhaps if you'd been looking anywhere other than your feet, you'd have noticed the storm of emotions reflected in her eyes. 

Wordlessly you nodded, grabbing the hair brush and meticulously brushing out any knots and tangles. You made quick work of it but refrained from seeming too eager to finish the task. The last thing you needed was to potentially anger Rhaenyra, something you'd never been afraid of. But nothing was as it once was. 

Her hair was like silk threads between your fingers as you wove each strand into one braid that fell down the middle of her back. While your eyes focused solely on her hair and the task at hand, Rhaenyra's were on you. 

A soft smile curled at the edges of her lips, heart heavy with anxiety and fear she didn't dare speak into existence. It wasn't that she wanted to push you away. But as paranoia and fear took root within her mind, rotting away her faith and belief that there were good things out there, distancing herself was better than watching you twist into someone who hated her.  

Yet even as she resolved herself to do such, creating an armor of ice to encase herself with, the sting of heartbreak hit her heart. While she would self-soothe with reassurances that it was only raw for now, that soon the ache would dull, she wasn't convinced. In the loneliness of the night, her bed was entirely too big. You should've been in the space beside her, greeting her with sleepy smiles and bleary eyes that sparkled like stars. 

Rhaenyra was sure that she'd be getting over you her whole life. Yet missing you wasn't the worst of it.

Never a player of the Great Game the nobles busied themselves with, you wore your heart on your sleeve. It was evident the hurt you bore from her sudden withdrawal. Shockwaves of trembling hands and unsteady breaths plagued you, eyes not as bright as they once had been. She noticed it all, and it was like a dagger to the heart every time she did. She never wanted to hurt you; she never wanted you to hate her. 

Yet the fear of you twisting the dagger embedded in her chest from past betrayal made her rash. It made her paranoid, visions of treachery riddling her with madness. Alone in the dark, twisting in her sheets, Rhaenyra's doubts spiraled out of control. 

But in the solitude of her room, Rhaenyra could feel her walls weakening as your nimble fingers brushed through her hair.

You continued your work on Rhaenyra's hair, nearly finished as you reached the end. Before Rhaenyra could return the mask of indifference to her face, you were tying her braid with a cord, eyes moving from her head to meet her eyes in the mirror. Reflected in her eyes was the same pain and longing in yours. It made a lump return to your throat, a small sliver of hope like dawn coming after night. 

Neither of you spoke, your hands still tangled in the ends of her hair. Time had stopped, the both of you screaming a million things with your eyes. Yet neither of you could understand the other, leading to more confusion as your heart continued to break. She nearly reached out and snatched your hands; in fact, she was lifting her hand, fingers outstretched--

The sudden rumble of thunder broke the silence as you jumped back from Rhaenyra, hands falling to your side, and Rhaenyra mourned the loss of your touch. She realized how much she truly missed it.

"Will that be all, my lady?" You lowered your head, eyes once again on your feet.

Rhaenyra hesitated. She'd wanted you to stay, to pull you into her arms and make you swear you'd never leave her. She wanted you to leave kisses on her face, punctuating each one with a promise of undying fealty, not as an heir to the Iron Throne but as the woman you loved. So close within her grasp, she could have reached out and captured your hand, holding it so tight she wouldn't feel a thing. Everything she wanted stood before her, patiently waiting for her to speak. 

And yet Rhaenyra found herself tongue-tied, fighting a war no one else knew was waging. Could she take the leap, put her faith, trust, and everything sacred to her in you, and just simply hope you wouldn't turn your back on her? Could she fully bare her soul, grant you her heart, and pray you wouldn't crush it? Love involved a leap of faith that Rhaenyra was hesitant to take.

How could she open up after so much betrayal from the ones she least expected it from?

But at the same time, all she was feeling was pain that she had inflicted on herself. Was she some sort of masochist, content with being hurt so long as she could wield when and who it came from? 

"Princess?" Your voice pulled Rhaenyra from her thoughts as she refocused on her surroundings. You were looking at her, a hint of concern in the cracks of your neutral expression. 

It only made Rhaenyra's heart twist. You should be cursing her name, swearing up and down the halls Rhaenyra Targaryen was a cheat and a liar. And yet... 

You still cared; it shone in how you watched her, eyes too keen and all-knowing. But if you were all-knowing, why couldn't you see the paranoid propaganda she was feeding herself? She wished, more than anything, you were the mind reader she often joked you were.

Time seemed to slow, unknown words forming on her tongue and falling from her mouth. 

"Stay with me." 

For a moment you stared at her, entirely sure you'd heard her wrong. Yet even as you replayed her answer over and over again, it hadn't changed. She wanted you to stay. Yet even as you lit up with newfound optimism, you crushed it before it could blossom. You didn't want to be let down. 

You then nodded, unable to stifle the small smile on your lips. "Of course, princess. What is it you require of me?"

Rhaenyra picked up the glass of wine that had remained untouched up until that moment, and she stood from the vanity. She tipped the glass back, welcoming the bitter taste of it.

"Have a drink with me." 

You nodded, following Rhaenyra as she walked towards the table where you had placed the decanter of wine. You moved to pour the glass, but Rhaenyra beat you to it, filling a second glass she presented before topping off her own. 

"Thank you," you muttered, taking the glass and tentatively sipping. It was all so familiar, like a sense of deja-vu from when the two of you would sip wine and explore fantasies that could never be. Yet the air was never this thick with tension.

Rhaenyra sat at the table, motioning with her head for you to follow suit, which you did. Your fingers drummed on the wood, nerves making you restless. It felt as though you were awaiting trial for crimes against the crown. 

Unspoken words hovered in the atmosphere, tangible yet elusive. Rhaenyra drank the wine like water while you hardly touched yours. Your stomach was so twisted that the thought of drinking anything made you nauseous. 

The only indication that any time had passed was the dwindling wine and the storm that continued to rage outside. After her third glass had been drained, Rhaenyra set down the cup, pushing it away to indicate she was finished. 

Only then did her eyes find yours, expression severe and austere. There were small lines along her forehead from the furrow of her brows and creases from the frown on her lips. You wanted to smooth them all and kiss away whatever made her so cold, yet that wasn't your place anymore. 

"Do you love me?" She spoke softly, yet a sharp edge to her words carried the weight of an unspoken accusation. She judged you guilty of crimes you never even committed, put you in a cell, and destroyed the key without so much of a trial.

Yet you could do nothing but answer her earnestly because no matter the number of cuts in your skin from her sudden distance, your heart would always belong to her and only her. 

"Yes." 

Rhaenyra's jaw tightens, and in the flicker of the candles, you see the quiver of her lip and the slight shake of her form. She was crumbling, ash to the fire you radiated. Any resolve to preserve her heart in the act of self-sabotage was destroyed. 

"Say it." The words were strained, Rhaenyra's eyes shut so tight the skin might rip. Tears pricked in her eyes, and Rhaenyra did her best to keep them at bay. 

"I love you." You said it with such conviction and sincerity, Rhaenyra nearly believed it. Her eyes remained shut, but her body slackened and sunk into her chair. However, you leaned forward, eyes narrowed as everything clicked into place.

"Is that why you have been so distant and different? Did you believe I did not love you?" You asked, hands finding Rhaenyra's. You gripped them tightly as if to force Rhaenyra to truly see you. 

"It is silly," she laughed, the sounds hollow and empty. She refused to look at you, knowing the burning passion in your eyes would make her fully give in. But she needed to maintain the walls around her heart, even if you kept tearing them down as she put them into place. She wouldn't be hurt by anyone ever again. 

"It is not," you argued, squeezing her hand. "Look at me." She didn't heed your request, stubbornly turning her head away. You stood, the wood of your chair scraping against the stone floor, and you kneeled before Rhaenyra, pulling one of her hands into yours, elbows resting atop her knees.

"Rhaenyra, look at me." Still, she refused. With your free hand, you forced her head to face you. "'Nyra, please." With your final plea, her eyes fluttered open, purple iris' glossy from unshed tears. Diamonds under her eyes glistened, carving a path down her cheek as a few stray tears fell. 

"I love you. I have loved you since the day I laid my eyes upon you. I need you to know that to understand the way I feel will never change."

"You don't know that. You cannot predict how you will feel in the future." She was stubbornly arguing, clinging to the last bit of fight she had. Your touch was burning her skin from her humiliation at appearing so weak. 

"No, I may not be able to see the future, but I know how I feel for you, and I know that won't change."

"I can't be hurt again. All my enemies were once friends, and I cannot bear to see the same happen to you. I cannot lose you." Her hand ghosted over your cheek, her hand that was in your grasp interlocking with your fingers. 

"And you will not. I won't betray you as Queen Alicent of Ser Criston or any of the others that left scars on you. What must I do to make you see that?"

Sharply Rhaenyra inhaled, choked sobs raking through her body. "I do not know how to stop it. I am terrified, so terrified. I do not want to be disappointed, not again."

You swallowed thickly, allowing her words to process as your thumbs stroked the palm of her hand. Like the weather outside, you were a tempest of emotions. A blend of sadness, desperation to comfort Rhaenyra, and burning anger towards those at King's Landing who had created these wounds. 

Rhaenyra always had to maintain a strong facade as the heir to the throne, especially with her claim constantly being questioned. But for now, you would be the source of strength she had to be for so many people. 

Rhaenyra continued to cry as you all but cradled her against you.

"Then I promise to do my best to never let that happen, and if it does, and one of us is let down by the other, I'll do my damndest to ensure I am the one that gets hurt."

Rhaenyra was too stunned to speak, the passion behind your words taking her aback. She pulled her head back from your chest to give you a wide-eyed stare.

You were truly in love with her; you'd meant every sleepy promise and quiet confession. The words you spoke hadn't been hasty or impulsive. They were an oath sworn under a canopy of stars with the gods as your witness. Rhaenyra had been a fool to not realize it before. 

"I love you." 

It was all she uttered before her lips were on yours. The kiss was salty from the tears falling from Rhaenyra's eyes, but you didn't mind, more than content to be pulled beneath the waves of her waters. 

This kiss felt different from all the others you'd shared, a show of affection and relief that the cold war waging between you was over. There would be peace, and Rhaenyra could return to her home in your arms. 

It was also more than that; it was also a declaration of devotion between the two of you, as sacred as any wedding. The waters would be rough, and the two of you could never truly be together anywhere other than the privacy of these four walls. Yet it was everything you'd wanted.

Rhaenyra was everything you wanted. 

You returned her fervor, determined to make her feel every word you hadn't spoken. Gently, your tongue slipped past her lips, and you swallowed the small gasp she let out. One hand was on the nape of her neck, keeping her close while the other traced patterns along the curve of her cheek. She tasted like wine and imported berries from the Reach, an intoxicating blend that made your mind grow hazy. 

She pulled back first, only centimeters separating the two of you. Eye to eye, her forehead resting on yours, she breathed in. The tip of her nose brushed against yours as you panted. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. How could you possibly forgive me," Rhaenyra spoke with as much reverence as a Sept reciting sacred prayers. 

"Because I love you," you spoke, lips brushing over hers. "I love you, and I will continue to do so until the end of my days." 

"I do not deserve you." 

You cupped her cheek in such a soft and delicate fashion. She was a work of art, and you'd handle her with the care she deserved. 

"You deserve so much more than you've been given, 'Nyra. I cannot give you much, but I will give you all my love; I can promise you that. I will never betray you, I will never leave you, and I will never, ever stop loving you."

She breathed out a laugh, a sweet smile on her swollen lips that were bruised from the kiss you'd shared. "And I promise you that when I am named Queen, I will make a new order and marry you, proprietary be damned. I want you, and I will have you. No court, army, or god could stop me."

There was a glow on your face, her words making you feel as high as the heavens. The smile on your face would never be wiped off. Truth rang in Rhaenyra's words, and you knew they weren't pretty promises to make you feel all light and giggly. 

"Do not start a war for me," you muttered in a playful tone, undoing the plait you had done so you could card your fingers through her hair.

"I would burn down the entire world for you." She spoke with such devotion it made your cheeks flush pink.

"Perhaps we start with you kissing me again." 

And Rhaenyra complied with your request, over and over again, determined to make up for the hurt she inflicted. 

[behindthesoul]

Mistletoe - Johnny Cage x gn!reader

Masterlist

Summary - Johnny gives you a Christmas gift.

Word Count - 842

Warnings - not proofread, not my highest quality work

A/N - I wanted to post more this month but life got in the way. ‘Tis the life of little ol’ me. Hurried to get this one out. It’s 11:32 so Christmas isn’t over yet!

The fireplace provided comfort to all that passed by, almost as if it were a blanket. It stands tall, its dancing flames within cast a warm, flickering glow that paints your face in hues of amber and gold. The crackling of burning logs adds a beautiful soundtrack that accompanies the sound of Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas is You blasting from speakers across the room. Loud chattering mixes into the already existing sounds. You listen, the flames in front of you commanding your full attention.

Shoes clacking against the hardwood floor break the trance the fireplace had you in. There’s no need to turn your head to the person who approached you; you already know who it is.

“You outdid yourself with the Christmas decorations this year, Cage,” you say, voice in awe.

“Surprised you even noticed them,” Johnny replies. He takes a spot on the floor next to you before continuing, doing his best to make sure you see how hard he’s rolling his eyes. “You’ve been drawn to this stupid thing since you walked in.”

You finally look at him, confused. “I’ve been paying attention to them!”

“Really? Then you would’ve noticed the stocking I got for you,” he points to a large stocking hanging on the fireplace. It’s a classic red and white stocking, but you notice your first initial stitched into the fabric. How did you not notice that?

“Oh…I somehow didn’t see that. Thank you, Johnny.”

He laughs before taking the stocking off the mantle and throwing it into the fire. Your eyes widen in bewilderment as the fabric melts on top of the logs. “Actually, it belonged to my ex-agent. Hated that guy.”

You let out a small huff of amusement before standing up. “I guess that’s my cue to go walk around.”

“Shit - wait, wait, wait,” he quickly scrambles up to his feet, placing his hands on your shoulders to make sure you don’t move away. You shoot a quick look of curiosity as Johnny grins.

“You’d really think I’d let you walk away without giving you a gift?” his grin shifts into a small smirk.

“Oh! I didn’t expect a gift from you. Where is it?” you look around, as if you’d spot where he presumably hid it.

“Easy there,” he drags out, chuckling, “it’s nothing major, but hopefully you’ll like it…hopefully.”

“You notice how Johnny’s voice got quieter at the end of his sentence, avoiding your gaze for a swift moment. His eyes hold a glint of something negative. Uncertainty? Insecurity? He returns to his normal and lighthearted self before you could fully decipher his emotions. Johnny just pats your shoulder before grabbing your wrist. He leads you outside to his patio, quiet and away from the peering eyes that were likely to ruin this moment for him. Breathing in the fresh air, you feel a slight chill run down your body.

Johnny lets go of your wrist and gains your attention. He takes a deep breath, “close your eyes.”

“Hm? Why?” you hold back a laugh which would let Johnny know that you’re teasing him.

“So I can give you your gift, stupid,” Johnny gives you a massive eye roll, and you laugh as you close your eyes. You hear him shuffling around in his pockets for a quick moment and you wonder just how long you’ll have to keep your eyes closed.

“Alright,” you could almost hear him grin, “open.”

Your eyes flutter open to see Johnny holding a mistletoe in the air. It’s cheap and made of plastic; it would most likely break if he dropped it on the ground. You stare at it, unimpressed, and your expression made him deflate a bit.

He sighs, “look your actual gift won’t be here until next Saturday. I panicked trying to find something nice.”

“And cheap mistletoe was your definition of ‘nice’?” you tease, but you change your tone when you see him cringe at himself. “I - I was just joking.”

Johnny shakes his head, letting you know there was no need to apologize. “Nah, you got me. I just found this in a random box of decorations.”

Silence consumes the two of you - but only for a minute. Johnny’s always been allergic to it.

“My arm’s getting tired here…”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. You lean over and kiss Johnny on the cheek. A faint, pink tint decorates his face. One that wouldn’t have been noticeable if the dark night wasn’t there to contrast it. He tosses the mistletoe to the ground and cups your face in both his hands. He then leans over to kiss you on the lips. His lips burn more than the fireplace. It could keep you warm for days.

He pulls back just enough for him to breathe and studies each detail of your face. The tender moment is dead when you notice the mistletoe on the ground, missing a leaf. It’s hard to hold back a smile.

“I knew it would break,” you mumble. Johnny shuts you up by kissing you again.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

A/N: Nesta has had many metamorphosises within the series, but one of my favorites is her relationship with her sister and how that has changed, especially Feyre. And when Noah dropped Stick Season and I heard Orange Juice, I just knew that it was Nesta and Feyre's song. This is short but hopefully sweet. Hope everyone enjoys! cc:@nestaarcheronweek

Read on AO3

The streets of Velaris are strangely quiet this time of evening, most of the residents either wrapped up in their homes or holed up in one of the local taverns for the night. The street lamps and building windows all flicker with golden fae lights, only adding to the ambiance. The first snow of the season falls in soft swirls, catching in Nesta’s hair and eyelashes and further adding to the quiet peace. Even her footfalls don’t make a sound against the snow dusted cobblestones as she walks.

The wrought iron fence that surrounds the River House comes into view, ivy twisting around the metal and up the stone of the home. Just the sight has Nesta’s heart pressing up into her throat, memories breaking free from their cage in the back of her mind and threatening to overwhelm her again. Her skin crawls at being back here again, standing in this place again.

For a moment, the snow melts away around her. For a moment, it’s green grass and flowers. For a moment, raucous laughter floats through open windows and billowing curtains. For a moment, it’s six months ago.

Shaking her head against the cloud of memories, Nesta unfolds the piece of parchment in her hands again, reading the slanting, looping script of her youngest sister.

Come over, please? The party’s gone slower

With a soft sigh, Nesta folds the parchment again, slipping it back inside the pocket of her dress. She swallows down the emotions welling in her chest and pushes through the front gate, following the footpath up the steps and to the front door.

She barely has to knock once before the door is pulled open, Feyre standing on the other side. She’s dressed comfortably with a soft looking sweater and leggings, golden brown hair the same shade as Nesta’s own tumbling down along her shoulders and spine. Though the sleeves hang long, Nesta can still spy paint flecks stuck to the skin of her fingers, can still spy the short nails that are indicative of the habit that still clings to her youngest sister from when they were girls.

“Nesta,” Feyre breathes, offering a small, friendly smile. “I’m so glad you could visit.”

Feyre steps back, gesturing with her arm for Nesta to step inside. Already, Nesta’s eyes start to flit around, noting everything that’s changed. Everything that hasn’t. Her eyes linger on the portraits in golden frames lining the large staircase, lining the hall that leads to the large living room beyond.

“There’s orange juice in the kitchen,” Feyre continues, drawing Nesta’s attention back to her and leading her down a different hall. “We bought it for Nyx, but it’s yours if you want it. I know you got sober.”

“Six months,” Nesta offers, following Feyre into the large kitchen. “On the dot.”

Feyre’s steps pause, and she turns to smile over her shoulder. “That’s great, Nesta.”

She continues deeper into the kitchen and toward the ice box, pulling the door open. Her hands hesitate, and while her back is turned, Nesta recognizes the way Feyre’s fingers curl and twitch, the way her shoulders stiffen. It’s clear that her sister is frowning at whatever she sees, more likely what she doesn’t see.

“Just tea is fine.”

“Right,” Feyre breathes, letting the door fall shut again. “Tea.”

Feyre turns her attention to the cabinets, rummaging to get the kettle full and placed over the flame. The clink of dishes, the shuffle of tea leaves, it all fills the space between them, breaking up the underlying tension threatening to bubble up and stifle them both. With a soft sigh through her nose, Nesta lets her gaze drift back toward the kitchen doorway. Toward the faces and voices she hasn’t encountered since she moved away from the city. They float down the hall and into the kitchen like ghosts on the breeze.

The whole city is like a ghost town, roots and branches twisting like limbs reaching toward her. Shadows creeping out from every corner and alleyway. Nesta feels as much as a stranger in Velaris now as she did six months ago. As much a stranger as she felt in her skin. As much a stranger as she felt in this family.

And if she closes her eyes, Nesta can still see that hillside she passed when she arrived. She can see the white stone, glistening as brightly as the snow that swirled around it. Can see the monument that rises like a beacon, like a ghost all its own.

“I saw father’s grave earlier,” Nesta comments, her voice quiet.

Feyre nearly drops the teacups in her hands, but steadies herself and she sets them down on the counter in front of Nesta. “Elain had the monument built. She tends to the flowers around it every week.”

Nesta hums, taking a sip of her tea. It burns almost as much as the anger flaring through her veins. Almost. No matter the time that’s passed, it still fills her like a raging sea, still scorches like those silver flames she’s tried to swallow down. There’s no escaping it some days. No way to stop it from pulling her and drowning her through her silent screams.

“You know,” Feyre begins, sliding the tip of her finger along the rim of her teacup. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for you to come home for so long.”

“Velaris isn’t my home,” Nesta reminds her, dropping her gaze to the swirling liquid of her tea so she won’t see the expression she’s sure will take over her youngest sister’s face. “Besides, we both know I’m third in the lineup to your lord and savior of a High Lord.”

“That’s not fair, Nesta.”

“It doesn’t matter anyways.”

Feyre sighs, a sound that Nesta knows well, one that tells her that her sister clearly disagrees but is swallowing down her argument. “I didn’t think to ask you where you ended up after you left… or why you left in the first place.”

She says the last part quietly, her voice trailing off, and guilt roils through Nesta’s gut and cloys up her throat. But she refuses to let its roots twist around her ribs, refuses to let it settle. Because she still remembers how it felt six months ago. She still remembers every cut, every bruise, every open wound that festered beneath her skin. Every ache that weighed down her soul. She still remembers the way her heart felt changed until it was little more than an unwelcome intruder in her chest.

“After the war… after the Cauldron, really, everything changed,” Nesta explains, finally raising her gaze back to Feyre’s.

“I know that everything was difficult for you…”

“No, you don’t understand. The world had changed. My life had changed. My heart and my very soul had changed, and yet you hadn’t changed at all.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t you find it strange that after everything that happened, you just went ahead and carried on? You came back here and celebrated as if nothing had happened. Everything had changed irrecoverably for me, and for you, it was just another day.”

“Nesta–”

“Did you know that the last time I drank, I was right here in front of your house? That I passed out right there in your lawn?”

Feyre’s entire face shifts with the admission, pain spilling through her blue eyes. “You–I didn’t know.”

“Gods, I must look like crow to you now compared to everything you have. Just pulling you down.”

Nesta pushes her half finished tea away from her, moving to step back and head toward the door, but fingers curl around her forearm, holding her in place. Feyre’s expression is pleading, but there’s understanding flickering beneath it as well. It’s the sort of look only a sister can give. One who shared the teeth and the claws. One who can recognize and see through any mask or bullshit.

A mirror in the truest sense.

“It wasn’t your fault, what happened to father,” Feyre tells her quietly.

Emotions clog up Nesta’s throat until she fears she won’t be able to breathe. But she doesn’t dare break away from Feyre’s eyes, doesn’t dare pull away from her sister’s grip.

“You didn’t put those bones in the ground.”

—

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[dmitriene]

— a chance encounter.

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌   ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌«take me out of my mind»

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  «and into the light»

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌«i wanna crawl away into eternal life»

 ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌  ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ «take me far from me»

summary: your meeting with friends did not go according to plan, but the night company of a young police officer and the warmth of a patrol car made you forget about it. content: re2 leon kennedy x gn reader tags: fluff, hurt-comfort, single kiss in the cheek. enjoy your reading) 🚓

The cold night was shrouded in an inky shroud, a sheet of darkness broken only by the occasional glimmer of streetlights.

The air was crisp, each breath a visible cloud of mist that hung for a moment before dissipating into the gloom.

Your surroundings seemed distant and muffled to you, as if the world itself had fallen into a quiet sleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The cold seeped deep into your bones, making your steps hesitant and unhurried as you walked through the dimly lit streets.

The soft echo of your footsteps mingled with the distant sound of passing cars, reminding you of the continued existence of a world beyond the cocoon of your own emotions, the night enveloping you, its cold fingers touching your skin and seeping through any layers of clothing.

Shrouded in loneliness, your thoughts swirled like fallen leaves in a light breeze, meeting with your friends reproduced in your memory a tapestry of words and gestures that made you feel vulnerable and isolated, the night seemed to aggravate your loneliness, cast a shadow over your heart and put you under doubt your own worth.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you blinked them away furiously, wet cheeks indicative of inner turmoil, your shoulders bent inward, arms crossed tightly over your chest, as if protecting yourself from both the cold and emotional pain, the world seemed overwhelming, as if all disappointments and fears gathered in the darkness, looming large and unshakable.

With each step, your sobs turned into whispers carried by the wind, and your heartache into a muffled cry that resonated with the loneliness of the night.

The darkness seemed to absorb your tears, the silent witness of your struggle, the endless expanse of the night seemed to reflect your own insecurities, and its vastness reflected the depth of your feelings.

And then a flicker of light — the approaching sound of car wheels, getting louder as the distance gets shorter, your gaze flicking to the side to meet the ghostly figure poking out of the driver's window.

His presence was unexpected, a ray of warmth in the cold expanses of the night, his voice reached your ears, anxiety was evident in every word, and something in your chest weakened a little.

— «Hey there» a gentle voice rang out, anxiety was traced in the words — «Are you okay?»

You blinked, surprised by the kindness of the stranger, it was a young man in a police uniform, his face was partially hidden in the darkness, swallowing back tears, you smiled with difficulty and nodded — «Yeah, i'm fine, just heading home..»

He nodded to you in understanding, his eyes full of sympathy — «It's quite late to be out alone, would you like a ride? It's not safe to be walking in the dark»

You paused, looking around nervously, on the one hand he was a stranger and your mother's warnings against taking trips from strangers echoed in your head, on the other hand there was a soothing warmth in his voice and you were tired of feeling alone in sticky darkness of the night.

Your doubts quickly dissipated, you were drawn to his kindness, a lifeline in the midst of your emotional storm, so you swallowed your doubts and moved closer to the car and opened the door.

The interior was clean and tidy, and the faint scent of leather greeted your senses, the warmth of the patrol car enveloping you in stark contrast to the bone chilling cold.

The officer with a warm smile handed you a pack of tissues from the glove compartment — «Just in case» he said softly, genuine concern in his eyes.

— «Thank you» you whispered in a slightly trembling voice.

Offered tissues, your fingers trembling as you took them, in that simple action a subtle vulnerability exchanged as you wiped away your tears, the cold that settled in your heart began to melt, replaced by a fragile sense of connection, the outside world remained dark and unforgiving, but inside the cocoon of the machine the atmosphere has changed.

As you sat in the passenger seat of the patrol car, a feeling of uncertain comfort began to envelop you, the inside of the car a refuge, a little bubble of warmth and safety, the soft glow of the dashboard illuminating the space, casting a gentle light on your shared faces as you sat in silence for a while.

Leon Kennedy, judging by the name on his short sleeved shirt, radiated a youthful determination that was impossible to mistake even in the dim light of the night.

His features were slightly coarse, indicative of his work as a police officer, sandy blond hair framed his face in a slightly tousled hairstyle that seemed to easily complement his relaxed demeanor, unruly strands swaying in the light wind, contrasting with the crisp uniform.

His eyes were a warm, inviting hue, a blue hue that seemed to reflect both the depths of the ocean and the vast expanse of the sky, in the soft light of the car's interior, these eyes flickered with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity, revealing a depth of character that went beyond his youthful appearance.

But it wasn't just his looks that made him stand out, it was his aura —a sense of security and unwaveringness that seemed to emanate from him.

Leon's fingers lightly tapped on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead, he gave you a quick glance, his eyes still had a hint of warmth and sympathy — «You know, sometimes it helps to talk about what's bothering you» he said softly, his voice a soothing balm on your tortured emotions.

Your shoulders relaxed a little and you turned your gaze to the window, watching the city lights flicker as you drove by — «It's just.. my friend's.. we had this meeting, and thing's didn't go well, it feels like they don't understand me anymore, like i'm drifting away from them..»

Leon nodded in understanding, his lips curving into a sympathetic smile — «Changes can be tough, especially when it comes to friendship, people grow and sometimes paths diverge»

A soft sigh escaped your lips and you leaned back in your seat, your fingers fiddling with the edge of the napkin — «I just.. i thought they would always be there for me»

— «They might still be» Leon said softly — «Sometimes misunderstandings happen, but that doesn't mean the bond is broken beyond repair»

Your eyes darted to his blues, your eyes searched his face for solace — «Do you really think so?»

Leon's smile widened, his expression was sincere — «Absolutely, relationships take effort, but they're worth it»

The soft rhythm of your conversation mingled with the quiet hum of a car engine, creating a space in which your feelings could open without judgment, you caught yourself giggling, a sound uncertain but sincere, like a shy bud breaking through frost, with every common story and little jokingly, an uncertain bond began to intertwine between you.

In Leon's presence, your heartache and loneliness found a temporary respite, the heat seemed less intimidating, the darkness less suffocating, the warmth of your common words and laughter formed a shield from the cold, allowing you to let go of your worries even for a moment.

You found yourself opening up in a way you didn't expect, the presence of this stranger was strangely comforting, you talked about hobbies, dreams and little moments that brought joy amid life's difficulties.

Leon's laughter echoed through the car as he recounted a funny incident that happened during his early years as a police officer, your own laughter mingling with his, the tension you had previously given way to ease.

— «You're not alone in feeling lost sometimes» recognized Leon, his tone softened — «I've had my fair share of doubts and uncertainties»

Your eyes met his and your eyes met for a brief moment that seemed oddly intimate — «It's comforting to know that, even as a police officer, you've felt that way too»

There was a slight vulnerability in Leon's smile — «We're all human, after all, emotions don't discriminate»

As you talked, the atmosphere in the car changed from uncertainty to camaraderie, the nervous awkwardness that colored the conversation gave way to a shared understanding, Leon's teasing remarks and light hearted stories created an atmosphere in which you felt noticed and accepted, and your anxieties slowly dissipated like mist in the morning sun.

By the time the car pulled up in front of your house, a bittersweet feeling hung in the air, your soul felt lighter than ever and a slight smile touched the corners of your lips.

Leon turned off the engine, his eyes were soft as he looked at you — «Remember, you're stronger than you think, and sometimes all you need is a little support to get through tough times»

You nodded, gratitude shining in your eyes — «Thank you, Leon, i needed this»

Leon's smile was warm and sincere, which was indicative of the bond that the two of you forged during the course of the conversation — «Anytime»

When you opened the car door, you turned back to him, and your emotions swirled in a whirlpool within the tight chest — «Leon?»

He looked at you with curiosity on his face — «Yeah?»

Without a word, you leaned over and pressed a soft, long kiss against his cheek, and the atmosphere changed again.

The cold night air seemed to hold its breath as if giving this simple act of sensuality a moment of reverence, in which case your sense of vulnerability and doubt was transformed into a tender connection — a shared experience that will remain in everyone's memory like a twinkling star in the night sky.

Leon's cheeks flushed a soft pink blush, surprise reflected in his wide blue eyes — «I, uh.. thank you»

You chuckled softly and your heart felt lighter than a few hours before — «A little something to remember me by»

With a last smile, you got out of the car, leaving Leon watching your slowly disappearing figure with a mixture of awe and embarrassment, he sat in the car with his face buried in his hands on the steering wheel when you left, the memory of your conversation and a tender kiss on his cheek lingered like a spark in the night that lit the way ahead.

You left behind a trail of emotions, imprints of the night that spoke of vulnerability and resilience, and when the engine of the patrol car roared again, Leon could not help but smile, his heart was warmed not only by this gesture, but also by the realization that even on the coldest nights you can forge relationships and find warmth in unexpected places

[ taglist: @roseglazedlens ] dm me if you want to be tagged in my works.

© dmitriene - my masterlist

please, don't copy my works as your own, and if you want to post them somewhere else - contact me.

reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

[chocoenvy]

Divine Decoration

Sagau!Fatui fic

Warnings: Reader is considered a god, angsty w/ some fluffy moments, minor blood, mentioned/implied drugging

Notes: pspspspspsps come get your food fatui lovers

3.4k words

You were a decoration. You knew that from the moment you met those dull eyes. Even as you were shivering, half dead in the snow there wasn't a hint of emotion in them. As though you were staring at a corpse, or perhaps a doll.

You knew you were merely a decoration when you met the owner of the icy tundra that nearly killed you. Cold and dead, claws uncaringly picking you up by the back of the coat you'd been offered.

The small spark of life still left in your eyes met the Tsaritsa's. Void of any human emotion, she inspected you. Her other clawed hand reaching up towards your face and squeezing your cheeks so hard you cried out in pain. You felt a thin trail of blood seep out of the fresh cut on your face and only then did she let go.

Almost gently her finger ran across the cut, coming away with a thick golden liquid coating her fingers. Your brows furrowed at the color, even more confusion fogged your mind as the imposing Tsaritsa set you down on her thigh.

An unspoken command rang throughout the room as multiple personnel scurried off. You sat there, shivering from the cold and fear, doing your best to remain as quiet as possible. Anything to keep the Tsaritsa from beheading you with her dangerously sharp claws.

Your entire body froze up as her voice rumbled deep within her throat, "Thank you for bringing them to me, Sandrone." You swore the whole palace shook with her voice, or perhaps it was just your shivering.

The supposed Sandrone sure wasn't affected by it, her dull eyes uncaringly meeting the Tsaritsa's as she bowed her head in a respectful nod.

Soon, other figures filtered into the hall. Most of which you didn't recognize but there a certain bright-haired male tumbling into the room that made your eyes widen with recognition.

His eyes, just as dead as the rest of the place, connected with yours and you swore the palace lit up.

Suddenly, everything wasn't as unfamiliar.

Unfortunately for you, the Tsaritsa had noticed how you perked up at the sight of the ginger.

Her hand grabbed onto your wrist, her claws dangerously close to your veins, and raised it up, "Harbingers," She bellowed, and you were dunked right back into icy cold water, shivering like crazy, "Sandrone found them in the snow outside of our palace. They are from another world and our key to victory." Her claws dug into your veins gently.

You hissed and jumped, tugging your wrist away. If it wasn't for the Tsaritsa's iron grip on you, you would've had a long gash down your arm.

Golden liquid trickled down your arm and you could feel the room sobering up. All eyes on the blood coming from your arm.

Normally, you'd be more concerned about the fact that your blood was an abnormal color, however you were so acutely aware of the danger you were in at this moment. The countless faces you didn't know, the danger they reeked.

You were a caged animal, you realized with a start, you no longer had autonomy.

It felt like your whole form had been frozen over with ice, and honestly with the cryo archon holding onto you like this how could you be sure that you weren't?

The whole room was spinning with cheers vaguely reaching your ears. Despite yourself, your eyes caught onto some of the only color in the room, and the only eyes you recognized.

You stared at Childe, completely out of it, the blood having reached past your elbow at this point. He was cheering, you noticed, but as soon as he noticed your stare his victorious smile died.

The Tsaritsa's cold hand wiped away the blood on your arm, letting go of your hand to let it fall back down to your side. Your gaze remained on Childe, because despite how pathetic it was you felt like you'd be swallowed whole by the snow if you looked away from him. He was your only flicker of normality, no matter how dim.

Suddenly, a large hand grabbed a hold of your chin and turned you to face the owner's eyes. As soon as you came into contact with her confusing and gorgeous orbs, you blacked out.

*~

You weren't sure if the stress of the situation had rendered you completely helpless or if they had administered some type of drug to you. Either way, waking up, propped up by a large person(?) while your hair was being done was jarring to say the least.

You pulled away from the giant hand you were being held on and the tiny hands messing with your hair.

You heard an indignant huff before you were being tugged back into place by a lock of your hair.

"Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!" You whined, your hands moving up to ease the pain.

The lady - who you recognized as the lady who had found you in the snow - lightly swatted your hands away. A dangerous glint in her eyes and a furrow in her brows that sent a chill down your spine.

You clamped your mouth shut and put your hands back at your side, essentially freezing and allowing her to do whatever it is that she was doing with your hair.

You also noticed nearby there were different outfits laid out neatly. There were... a lot of outfits ranging from hyper masculine to hyper feminine and nearly everything in between. The main consistency, though, was that they all matched the lady doing your hair. Down to the most miniscule detail, everything about the outfits was meant to remind anyone looking at it of her.

You felt gentle tugs on your hair, clips and bobby pins being stuck in , it, being twisted and pulled in every direction.

Your lungs were restricted, the air heavy. You so desperately wanted to talk to her, to hopefully relieve some of the tension, but you couldn't force the words out.

After what felt like an eternity she patted down your head and came around to your front to inspect it. She gave a small, self-satisfied smile. She urged the... person (?) over to the vanity. It set you down at the fancy-looking chair, the lady smiling dully behind the chair as you stared into the mirror.

"Looks perfect," She stated, mostly to herself.

You had to say... she did do a wonderful job. Your hair looked stunning to the point you wondered if there was something important about to happen.

You opened your mouth to ask, but you were interrupted with a hand grabbing your chin.

"Except," Her thumb ran over the scar left on your cheek from the Tsaritsa. The lady scoffed, "...so careless."

She sighed and came around to the front of you, bundling up her dress before sitting on your lap. She grabbed some things off of the vanity.

"Heavy or light makeup?" She asked as she worked on covering up the scar.

You stuttered out your answer with embarrassing difficulty which caused her to smile.

The awkwardness was killing you. Being thrown into another world in an unfamiliar nation, only one familiar face you've only seen once, and now this absolutely bizarre situation. All you knew was that she and everyone else in this palace were nothing but danger and assumedly she was a harbinger just like Childe.

So basically: you're fucked. Probably on your way to being executed.

You gathered up all of your nerves and in hopes of alleviating the tension (that only you were feeling), you stumbled out, "M-may I ask your name?" You silently cringed at how you stuttered.

Thankfully, she didn't kill you on the spot. A smile tugged up on her lips, though it didn't meet her eyes, "Sandrone you may call me."

"Oh," Your eyes lit up in recognition, "The Tsaritsa said your name during the... thing."

"She did."

"Well, nice to meet you, Sandrone." Your entire body still shook along with your quiet voice. Your face hot with embarrassment at how she no doubt felt and saw your shivering.

She hummed, still hard at work touching up your face, "And what's your name, doll?"

You sucked in a cold breath, "(Y/n)." You squeezed you hands tightly, her voice intimidating and cold.

Sandrone thought to herself for a moment before nodding, a hand gently grabbing your chin as she inspected your face, "A pretty name for a pretty doll."

The words sent an unpleasant chill down your spine.

Another indication that you were merely a decoration.

*~

Sandrone had allowed you to pick out any of the various outfits, and finally gave you a full fluffy coat to burry yourself in. Afterwards, however, she fiddled with the accessories for a long time. Having you stand until your legs ached, a whine clawing out the back of your throat as she fiddled with bows and ribbons for what felt like an eternity. The whole time you heard her mumbling under her breath, something about your otherworldly-ness.

You swore you had to have been standing there for hours until at long last she pulled away, satisfied. She dragged you over to a full length mirror, a snake-like grin staining her usually flat face. Your bewildered eyes met your own in the mirror. You looked like a...

"A perfect doll." Sandrone crooned, hooking her arm around yours.

A perfect doll. Perfectly matching her.

*~

Apparently you were dressed up for a special occasion as after you were all dolled up Sandrone ushered you to sit on the... thing's hand while she sat on the other hand.

You were too afraid to ask where you were going, so you remained quiet, curiously looking around at the wonderous palace. Tightly gripping onto the coat you were given, wrapping it snug around you.

For the first few minutes of the walk, there were no signs of life in the massive halls. However, soon the halls were crawling with servants and guards. Fatui members you recognized as mobs that were now parting for the two of you, bowing their heads in respect as Sandrone passed them by. Not meeting her (or your) eyes.

Your lips pressed themselves into a frown, a worried crease in your brows. These powerful enemies were so scared of the person next to you... another shiver wracked your body.

Eventually, the two of you made it in front of two large doors, larger than some houses you were sure. You gaped up at their sheer size, the two Fatui agents beside them rushing to open them.

You gasped at the table, full of Fatui and at the very head of the table...

it was empty..?

The thing carrying you and Sandrone stopped right in front of the head chair. You stared at it blankly, then turned to glance at Sandrone curiously.

She gestured towards it. You stared at her curiously but still hoped off the thing's hand. You nodded in thanks up at it before realizing it... probably didn't understand the action or even cared.

The thing walked away, and stood at a gap in between seats.

"Sandrone, you're late." You jumped at a man's deep voice. A mask covering half of his face, he looked later on in his years with a beard. He sat at the immediate left of the head seat, the chair on the right was empty and huge.

"I got here before the Tsaritsa, that's all that matters," She answered smoothly, "Besides, I was making sure our dear (Y/n) looked perfect."

You suddenly felt eyes turn to your still standing form, embarrassment burned you from head to toe and you tried your best to hide in the expensive fur coat.

Suddenly, the large doors opened once more and the gorgeous woman that had revealed your now golden blood stood staggeringly tall in the doorway.

The entire table, with nine people not including yourself, stood up and bowed. You scrambled to copy their actions, not wishing to incur the cryo archon's wrath.

"Rise," Her baritone voice commanded.

Everyone in the room obeyed, the other people in the room sat back down at their seats. You whipped your head around, silently panicking about where you should sit. There was the chair at the head of the table and chair to the right of it. While you weren't the best at etiquette, you were pretty damn sure those were seats for important people.

As the Tsaritsa approached, your heart was beating out of your chest and your feet glued to the ground. Your heart ready to run but your brain frozen over and sticking you to the ground. Rendering you utterly helpless with hot tears pricking your eyes at how much you were panicking. You shut your eyes, awaiting your head to be chopped off or perhaps worse.

You jumped at the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, your eyes snapped open and met with the Tsaritsa. She gestured to the chair she'd pulled out. The chair at the head of the table.

Your eyes flickered back and forth from the chair to the Tsaritsa back and forth again and again.

"What?" You responded lamely.

"Sit," She rumbled.

"I-I-" You stuttered, but one look at her eyes, cold and unwavering, you ducked your head and heeded her orders.

She pushed your chair in and sat to the right of you on the large chair. You felt so... odd sitting at the head of the table. You got a good view of everyone there, all of them staring at you.

This all begged the question of what the fuck was going on.

You didn't have time to think, break down, or ask questions just yet as the Tsaritsa clapped her hands together. A line of people came out of seemingly nowhere, carrying plates and trays of food. In a minute the table was filled with mouth-watering food and cups placed with a clear liquid.

It took everything in you to heed caution and not eat everything immediately, though the scent alone was making you salivate.

You sat there, dumbly, for a minute or so. Your brain completely out of it as everyone else continued with their meal. Except for the Tsaritsa. The entire time she observed you, sitting there stock still.

You clutched the coat tightly, sucking in a brave breath before finally finally asking the question that's been ringing in your head, "What is going on?" Action ceased in the room and you realized your voice was a lot louder than you had intended. Your desperation seeping in and breaking down your restrictions, hot tears pooling into your eyes and blurring your vision.

You sucked it up and kept it in, refusing to let any of the tears slip. You dug your nails into your palm, using the pain as a distraction.

The Tsaritsa sighed, "You were transported here from your world. You would use some vision wielders as your vessels, the Traveler as your main vessel. Do you remember that?"

You nodded, "Yes but... but that was just a game. I wasn't- this isn't-" You pursed your lips, barely able to keep yourself from screaming in frustration, "This isn't real."

The Tsaritsa frowned in frustration, "Do I need to show you your gold blood again? I would've thought the first two times were enough."

You unconsciously sunk further into the large seat, "No... just... I just..."

Once again your eyes had met with Tartaglia's. Dull, blue and deep, empty and void they were an odd comfort but they were familiar. You'd stared into his eyes curiously many times, curious about his past, what caused the dullness. Curious as to his many thoughts.

And now you were doing the same thing, only without a screen between you two, and he was breathing. Real and right in front of you.

It made you so dizzy.

"Why are you treating me like this?" You questioned, quietly this time, gesturing to the clothes you were given and the chair.

"Well, you're from another world aren't you?" The Tsaritsa reasoned, "Surely, that makes you divine in some way, don't you think?"

"Divine?" You echoed, your jaw slackened with shock, "I'm not divine."

"Then what of your golden blood?" You whipped your head to the man on your left, "You looked just as shocked as the rest of us by it. In this world, you are divine. With a greater power over its people. You've possessed Tartaglia before, have you not?"

"Possessed..." You muttered, not liking the feeling of the word, "I have but I never thought... it was that important."

"It was!" Childe exclaimed, "Everyone you take control of, everyone you give your divine gaze feel so very important. You gave me power I hungered for, how could we not assume you to be divine?"

Your gaze swept over everyone in the room. You, at the head chair of the Zapolyarny palace, where the Tsaritsa usually sits. The red blood in your veins now golden and the title of god hanging above your head.

You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them. You felt like you were gonna throw up.

"Come now," The Tsaritsa tapped your head, pushing your head back some with a singular finger, "Eat your food. Don't make me feed you myself."

Your face heated up with embarrassment before you slowly picked up your fork. Without being presented much of a choice, you carefully ate the food.

*~

You finished rather quickly, you didn't have much of an appetite anyways. You quietly observed the other harbingers interacting, they were... rather joyous. Almost as though this were a celebration...

was it?

Your eyes caught onto Tartaglia and a white haired woman next to him with odd eyes. They were downing an odd liquid over and over - you weren't sure what it was but considering the fact they seemed to be competing you had a good guess.

You couldn't help the smile that lit up your face, a small laugh exiting your throat.

"What's got you smiling like that?" The Tsaritsa asked, raising a curious brow.

You chuckled, "Classic Childe behavior."

He didn't hear you from all the way across the table, however the Tsaritsa certainly was ammused.

"They're always like this with celebrations, so don't mind them." She waved them off, "I'm a bit surprised that you're not joining them though, Columbina."

A small girl, with her eyes closed and a cloth with cut out diamonds covering them smiled, "I want them to have fun with the celebration today. If I were to join they'd both lose and wouldn't remember that (Y/n) is even here."

"Oh? But I'm sure (Y/n) would love to see you in action," A man with wavy hair and glasses said.

He had the same fake smile as Columbina.

"Hm? Perhaps, though I think it'd be much more amusing if you were to join don't you think?" Columbina retorted, "They could see you rush out in the morning. That'd be truly amusing don't you think."

"I find it concerning that you find the depletion of the money reserves amusing."

Fatui humor sure is odd, you thought to yourself.

You nearly recoiled when your eyes met another masked figure. Though he had both his eyes covered completely, it still felt as though he were looking at you. Something tickled the back of your brain, urging you to remember something.

And that's when it hit you.

"Dottore." You snapped your fingers, "You're Dottore."

The conversation paused as eyes turned to you, cautious and wary, you felt the air stiffen as they watched you like you were a wild animal.

The man hummed, "I am. I'm surprised you know me."

"You..." You trailed off, the reality of the situation hitting you once more.

You were surrounded by the Fatui. Tartaglia is a familiar and somewhat friendly face, it was funny watching him and his rivalry with that one person.

But you can't forget who you're with.

The Fatui don't care for the methods they use, they'll obtain their goal through any means. And as they had said you were apparently divine. With you under their thumb their plans would no doubt become a whole lot easier.

You were a tool for them, a pretty decoration in their possession.

"I..?" Dottore urged you to continue.

You hurt Collei. You bit back the words.

"You look different. It's better." You blinked innocently.

It seems even he was surprised by your words, "Hm, I suppose I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you, (Y/n)."

You gripped the coat tightly, going back to observing.

You wanted to see your characters.

*~*~*~*~*

General taglist: @nevermore-69 @heavenlyfloof

[justasimp1]

Conner Rk800 x F! Reader

Fluff, Small Smut, Jealousy♡♡♡

Rising Fever

It wasn't a lie or surprise that Conner attracts several equally attractive women. But why did that factor have to come out now- Just when you finally thought you felt something mutual...

The strong liquor hovered around the air. The warm sensation on your cheeks disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

"Do you work out?" A perky voice chimed through the quiet atmosphere. A woman with dirty blonde hair, pearly skin, tall black boots, vibrant blue eyes, and a tight dark crimson dress squeezed Conner's shoulders.

Conner's eyes scanned the slight halt in your heart rate. "No" Conner deadpanned, glancing down at his build. "You have a cute voice to match the face" The woman smirked, pushing a curly strand behind her ear.

You awkwardly adjusted as she sat next to Conner, taking his full attention. You shifted towards Hank, sitting on your other side. "Trouble in robot paradise" Hank muttered, feeling the heat of your eyes.

"Nope..." You sighed, flagging the bartender for a strong shot. The spicy clear liquid bubbled underneath dim lights hanging from the ceiling. "Tab, please" You eyed Conner smiling at the woman. You swallowed the drink whole, enjoying every prick along your throat.

"Aw no! Y/N don't leave so soon" Hank drunkenly sputtered, causing Conner to look over. "I have work in the morning- You do too!" You placed a couple of dollars down on the tab. "Bye-bye then" Hank slurred, closing his lips over his beer.

"Good night" You ruffled his long grey strands but only nodded at Conner. Conner could sense an unregistered feeling scattering your atmosphere. He tried gaining more information but the unwanted woman Beth kept talking.

" Lieutenant, you're able to get home?" Conner rushed to grab his jacket. "Yes," Hank slurred. Deep down Conner knew the aging man wouldn't hold up a single step. But he wouldn't let you walk home alone. Although he just really wanted to regain the stolen time with you.

"Hey!" Beth stopped Conner from walking out the door. His LED light flickered red, "Excuse me, ma'am" He gripped her shoulder, pushing her aside. His artificial vitals spiked to another level he could recognize.

"Y/N!"

You turned around, squinting through the thundering rain. "Conner?" You stopped, allowing him to catch up. His leather jacket swooped over your head protecting you from the pounding droplets.

"My apartment is nearby" Conner scans your confused expression. "CyberLife proceeds with updates. To make us more like you" He adjusts his voice, awkwardly looking around. "What are they like?" You swallowed the bitter taste of jealousy.

"I feel more emotions- even ones I can't comprehend. And my body has more...human-like reactions" Conner guided you down a soaked street. At the corner was a popular diverse apartment complex. You pondered over Conner's words, itching to ask him more.

"You live in Addison's?" "Yeah, it's quiet, and a few androids I know live there" Conner and you neared the glass doors. He opens them for you. The lobby is warm and empty. The walk to the elevator was silent. You chewed your lower lip, unsure of what to say.

"So, you get that girl's number?" You chuckled, pressing the elevator button. The ring echoes through the lobby. The dim beige lights welcomed you. Conner stepped inside "No. Was I supposed to?" He eyes your expression, studying your heart rate.

"You seemed interested in her that's all...what number?" You hovered over the large buttons. Conner gently caresses your wrist, pushing it forward on the number 8. "No, I didn't suspect her of anything. Did you see her do something?" The words seemed to fly over Conner's head.

You couldn't help but laugh. It was weirdly comforting for him to unknowingly reinsure your infatuation for him. The doors creaked open. You followed Conner to a nearby door. He pressed his wrist to a dark keypad. The door mechanism clicked, unlocking the door.

Conner opened it for you. His atmosphere seemed so clean and neat. You took off your shoes and the limp jacket off your head. "The bathroom is the 2nd door in the hallway. You can dry off or take a shower there" Conner swallowed, his thoughts slipping away for a second.

You hurried into the bathroom, taking a quick shower. You inspected the products, progressing a general idea of Conner. "Plain- but nice" You whispered after turning off the shower, pushing the foggy glass back, and seeing the large shirt and boxer shorts.

You put on the shirt and held the shorts up to your waistband. You scooted your wet clothes into the laundry basket, folding the boxers and setting them on the counter. You walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

Conner froze when he heard your footsteps. He looked up, analyzing the white shirt slightly clinging to the wet parts of your body. "I can sleep on the couch" You muttered, looking at shirtless Conner.

"No, we have a case tomorrow, and sleeping on the couch could stiffen your joints. Which will approximately lower your performance by 64%" Conner shook his head, then paused. "However if it makes you feel uncomfortable to rest next to me then I will-"

"No, it's fine. It's late we should get some sleep" Your cheeks burned as you slid into the cold mattress. Your shirt hiked up, allowing the breeze to ghost over your undergarments. The bed dipped when Conner got in. "Is this one of Cyber Life's new updates, sleep?" You giggled, facing him.

"Yes," Conner deadpanned, his caramel eyes flickering underneath the sheets. His lower abdomen suddenly tightened, and he let out a sharp hiss. "You okay?" You panicked, seeing his face grow red.

"Don't worry" Conner couldn't think, his mind full of lust, his senses racing. He already felt like a spiraling deviant whenever you were around, this new feeling just made it worse. You inched closer to him, slightly testing the waters by putting a gentle hand on his forehead.

Conner gulped as he felt your thigh brush against his hardening attachment. Your eyes widened, mouth falling agape. "Sorry- I don't know what's happening" Conner felt shame, h didn't want you to think he was a pervert Android.

"It's okay. It's natural- at least amongst humans" You cupped his cheeks, biting the inside of your own trying to think of what to do. "Can I help you?" You muttered, connecting your eyes with him. Conner's mind jumped to the fastest logical conclusion, it seemed weird but oddly enhancing.

He nodded. You reached your lips to him, pushing your tongue into his mouth. It felt damp and good. Conner softly moaned, his hands groping your exposed ass. He pulled you on top of him.

You rolled your hips, trying to prod at the throbbing sensation on your clit. You kissed down his neck, the salty metallic taste stinging your tastebuds. Your hand caressed his bare stomach, running over his smooth abs.

Conner bucked his hips up. You pushed down the waistband of his sweatpants, and his thick cock sprung out. It was pale with pulsing veins, warm blue blood coursing through them, and the tip was flushed pink.

His LED light spun in rapid circles. You sat up, rubbing the shaft on the damp spot of your panties. Conner groaned, his hands tugging at his brunette hair. You closed your eyes, rubbing back and forth on his length.

Quiet moans slipped from your mouth. "Y/N can touch you?" Conner whimpered, his eyes flashing with a devious look. "Yes, please touch me, Conner," You said breathlessly. Conner flipped you over in a blink of an eye.

Your stomach was smashed into the mattress, your back breaking into an arch. He pushed your panties aside, gliding his girth inside your quivering hole. "Fuck- That feels s-so good" Conner grasped your hips. You gasped, tears pricking your eyes.

Pain and pleasure are combined throughout your veins. Your fingernails dug into the mattress. "Tell me to stop and I will" Conner groaned his breath hot on your skin.

Your reply was muffled by the sudden moans erupting in your throat. Conner pulled back, slamming his hips into yours. The flesh made sloppy slaps echo around the room. Every time he pulled out a glistening ring formed around his shaft.

The air turned humid. Your pussy throbbed after thrust. Your vision went hazy, and unintended pleads slipped out of your mouth. Conner pumped into you, his stomach knotted. "Tell me to stop Y/N. I can't hold back anymore" Conner whimpered.

"No keep going, Conner" You let out a shaky exhale. Conner hissed, his finger coming up your jaw and into your mouth. The bitter skin makes you gag, saliva dripping down his digits as he fucks you harder.

You felt more sticky tears pool down your cheeks. Conner's iron grip on your waist was going to leave a bruise. The knot in your stomach began to unravel fast in the heightened abyss.

"I'm going to burst- shit and fill you up" Conner stuttered, feeling his warm white load on the edge. You moaned the cord in your stomach snapped. Your fluids spilled over his vibrating cock.

Wet white painted your flesh walls, his blushing tip pushing his cum deeper into your hole. The extra ooze flooded out of your pulsing crevice and onto your thighs. Connor pulled out, rubbing the excess off his tip and over your hole.

You lurched from the sensitivity. You turned over, the pressure on your back being absorbed by the plush mattress. Almost as if Conner teleported, he rubbed a warm towel on your thighs, removing the mess. You pulled his concentrated face from between your thighs and up to your face.

You kissed his nose before capturing his lips. "Do you feel betger?" You cocked your head to the side. "I feel amazing" Conner mumbled, his lips curving up into a smile.

Masterlist

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Henry Creel (4/9)

Word count ; 4.0k

*Edited.

After a moment, I threw open the door. I immediately flinched, hearing distant gunshots and screams. And then, everything fell silent, because a door ended up slamming loudly. The entire place echoed and the lights were flickering like strobe lights.

I walked down the hallways slowly, taking in the destruction. Dead bodies were everywhere. But, in the midst, were fellow guards that were surely innocent. As Henry said, everyone was a prisoner. So why was he recklessly killing his peers?

I flinched as some of the ceiling collapsed behind me. I was so cold and I was trembling manically. I was afraid. Never did I think it was possible to be afraid of Henry, the love of my life. My everything.

And, as I followed the destruction, I realized where it led. There was a large puddle of blood, as though it had been smeared across the path, that trailed up to the playroom. My heart was beating disproportionately. I hugged my waist and tears pricked at the creases of my eyelids. It felt awful against my boots how slippery the floor was.

Henry was good. He would never hurt the children. And it was so quiet inside… He was helping them. 

I knew it with certainty. 

I threw open the door, but my brain short-circuited. The playroom was dripping with blood. I would hope it belonged to the guards, but I recognized in that moment several corpses of the poor children. I gasped as the doors shut behind me, but it hardly distracted my lover.

He had Two strangled against the wall, his body floating as the poor boy struggled. He was concentrated, and there was a deep-set anger and sadism set in his eyes that I could barely see. Two’s eyes were rolling into the back of his head and my heart shattered.

Henry wasn’t the good and perfect person he pretended to be.

“Henry, please! Don’t hurt him!” I shrieked, clasping my hands together fearfully. “W - what are you doing? Stop it!”

Henry tensed and I could hear a small sigh escape. Two was still barely alive and I desired to reach him, but Henry suddenly swung his arm in the opposite direction. Two’s body flung into the wall and blood spewed from his head. But I prayed - religiously or not - that he was alive. He had to be.

However, Henry, voice dripping with honey, spoke,” I asked you to wait, my dear.”

His head tilted, barely peering over his shoulder. His fists clenched and his anger didn’t dissipate. His expression betrayed the emotions, completely contradicting his tone. I was shaking in my boots, wide-eyed and afraid, and I knew in that moment the Henry I loved was not real. Henry himself was, but everything had been fake.

The Henry I loved would never have hurt the children.

I knew I had to get Eleven. I had to run. I had to do anything except stand here.

I took a few steps back as Henry turned to face me entirely. A small frown was etched onto his features and my heart beat erratically in my chest, but now, it was no longer from love. I was terrified.

Henry opened his mouth, his serious azure eyes boring into me. I gasped quietly as tears threatened to fall, and I made a mad dash for the door. My hands secured around the handles and I threw them open. The hallway was right there.

And then, out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed that Henry held his hand up. A scream of terror tore at my throat as the doors were slammed shut and my footing was completely lost. I was being dragged across the air, my entire body experiencing whiplash. And then, just like that, it all stopped only for me to be encircled by tight arms.

I struggled, fingers that were glued to my waist clawing into the body behind me. Henry’s grip only tightened, though, and despite all the torture he was put through, he was not weak. Sobs echoed in the silent playroom, and I was so afraid I thought I would pass out.

And then I felt his fluffy blonde hair, stained with the blood of the children he said he would protect, nuzzled against my cheek. I felt his nose brush against my neck and he inhaled deeply. I could tell he was annoyed. And I was scared that now, he would be forced to kill me.

But, with how my heart had shattered, it would be a sweet release.

“Why didn’t you trust me, my dear?” he cooed far too lovingly.

I gulped, my sobs halting in a moment. My struggling ceased and a low rumble escaped Henry as he chuckled. One hand drifted to my hand and he took control of it, holding it to his face. Once upon a time, I would’ve swooned to be held like this by him. And yet, I felt nothing but disgust as his lips gently pressed onto the palm of my hand.

It was prolonged and meaningful. But then, as his lips departed, he squeezed me even closer. Possessively and furiously so. I could feel his glare boring into the side of my face and I had no choice but to squeeze my eyes shut.

“Oh, Y/n, I love you so very much. Don’t you understand? Why couldn’t you have listened to me?”

Silence and then, he released my hand, allowing it to flop back to my side. Swiftly, he grabbed my jaw and turned me to face him. I was forced to make eye contact. His brows were furrowed so carefully, and yet, a sweet smile stretched across his lips. I almost yelped from how tight his hold on me was.

“Answer me, Y/n.”

His grip became relaxed and he cupped my cheek. My neck stretched from the interaction as he pushed his forehead against mine. He hummed happily, pressing a quick kiss to my nose.

And only as I forced my head to clear to the best of my ability, and I knew I had to check Two, I could muster,” Y - you’re a monster, Henry.”

His affectionate movements paused and his eyes blinked in surprise. However, they softened, but that only made shivers roll down my spine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he summoned the words, and I was left only to watch as his expression morphed.

“Perhaps so. But you still love me, don’t you, dear?”

I almost said yes out of habit. But I clammed up my mouth as a few more tears slid down my cheeks. “No. I could never.”

I thought he would be angry. But, instead, cruel laughter bubbled in his throat. He insisted,” I have a hard time believing that. After all… I have always been this way. You have chosen not to see it and I have chosen not to show you.”

“That’s not true, Henry,” I stuttered. “It’s - it’s this place! It’s made you this way! And what you’ve done is unforgivable. How could you —?”

“Oh, my sweet love of my life,” he cooed further, azure orbs drowning in lovesickness,” I have always been this way. You may hold a grudge if you so like, but you still love me and I still love you. You told me you loved me unconditionally and I know it’s true.”

I shook my head to what ability I had. I craned my neck to where Two’s body was. He was bloody, beaten, and bruised. He was twitching. But he was alive none the less. And that meant I had a chance to save him.

“Please, Henry. Just stop all this. It’s wrong and evil a - and you might be the most vile person I’ve ever met —“

“And yet you love me anyways.”

I gulped and took a moment to summon the words. “…Why?”

He chuckled again. Gently, so very gently, he grabbed my shoulders and turned me to him. A tense darkness returned to his expression. He looked so evil. There was blood smeared across his cheeks and his entire uniform that was once an angelic white was stained red. I wished to shrug free of him, but his hands remained solid. He lowered his head to mine, and there was such a deep hatred buried within his gaze, and yet it looked right through me.

“Humans. Multiplying and poisoning our world, all while enforcing a structure of their own. A deeply unnatural structure,” he began. “Where others saw order, I saw a straight jacket. A cruel, oppressive world, dictated by made up rules. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades each life a faded, lesser copy of the one before. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, reproduce, and die.”

He paused, and his glare was so deeply evil and his grip tightened. I was so stunned that I couldn’t cry. Move. Speak. “Everyone is just waiting. Waiting for it all to be over. All while performing in a silly, terrible play day after day. I could not do that. I could not close off my mind and join them in the madness. I could not pretend.

“And then I realized. I didn’t have to. I could make my own rules. I could restore balance to a broken world, all with you by my side. A predator. But for good. As I practiced, I realized I could do more than I possibly imagined. I could reach into others. Into their minds. Their memories.

“I became an explorer. I saw my parents as they truly were. To the world they presented themselves as good, normal people, but like everything else in this world, it was all a lie. A terrible lie. They had done things, Y/n. Such awful things.”

I was trembling so very badly. I feared for my life. Henry harbored such a deep hatred toward those around him, and I wondered if this was the end for it all. The facade had crumbled, and I was now being Henry for what he truly was.

A monster.

He trailed off, eyeing me over. His grip on me softened and he sighed. His forehead pressed against mine and I gulped, wanting to be nothing but a speck of dirt on the wall that he forgot existed. And his veins accentuated for a moment, my eyes flitting across his suddenly peaceful expression.

His brows furrowed and he sighed again. His eyes shot open knowingly and I gulped, nostrils flaring. I wasn’t in control of my own body, paralyzed to the ground. His nose nuzzle against my own and he tilted his head, pressing a quick kiss against my lips.

“I’m so sorry, my dear,” he hummed. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I would never hurt you. I have not lied to you. I love you. In this world of dirt and pests, you are the one strand of gorgeous green grass that has emerged. You are my everything. I know that you love me. You could never say it again but I would still know. We are in love, Y/n. So, please, understand me.”

“Why me?”

The question shot past my lips before I could register it. In a way, I never wanted to know the answer. 

He pursed his lips in thought before a smile returned. “Oh, my sweet. It’s always been you. Why, I remember first reaching out to my old home, the one in which you and your mother purchased. I had been practicing my abilities in secret, and finally, I could reach it. The only place I’d ever known. It was a start.

“At first I was so very offended that my old home had residents.Your mother was a pest, just like everyone else in the awful world. I planned to kill her immediately. And then, there you were, bouncing home from school. So precious and sweet. You caught my attention.

“I read your mind. I got absorbed in it. From every minuscule detail to how your days went, I memorized it. I found you so fascinating. How someone so unique could be brainwashed in society. And what caught me even more off guard was the pain you went through. That you were actively going through with your father. The opportunity for you to realize how terrible this world is had presented itself to you, and you didn’t take it.

“I wanted to show it to you. If I could have but one person on my side, especially one as cute as you, I would be happy. I began talking with you in your dreams. You amused me so. I already knew everything about you, but to hear your voice, to feel your soft skin - it was illuminating.

“You made me realize that not everything was so pointless. That, in this madness, love was attainable and worthwhile. I love you, my dear, and I always will. And I know with certainty that this is reciprocated. We are in love. And I love you. If I did not have other plans, I would spend eternity with you just to tell you how I feel every moment. 

“I love you so much that I will agree to your silly cultural notions. We can get married. Have a family. Grow old together. All under my rule, of course, because this is not the way the world should be. But, if only to compromise and make you happy, nothing would give me greater joy.

“Y/n, I beg of you. Tell me that you accept me. That you love me still, even if I know it to be true.”

Silence. A deafening silence followed. I maintained a steady eye contact. With every word he spoke, my heart shattered more. Because, even as I realized how terrible of a monster he was, I wanted to excuse it. That there was surely a method to his madness.

Everything hurt. I was worried it always would. Because, if I accepted, I would drown in my guilt, and if I didn’t, I would be trapped regardless and drown in my sorrows.

I could tell he knew what I was thinking. Every word, every image, everything was his. Including me as a whole.

I opened my mouth to answer. Henry’s eyes widened and his manic grin only grew in anticipation.

But then, a scream echoed and his body was thrown back into the wall. He fell to the ground and I turned. Panting furiously in the doorway was Eleven. Her hand was raised and I was certain that she connected the dots. That Henry was a terrible man. No, not man. Monster.

Henry’s laugh echoed and he stumbled to his feet. The cloth around his neck unravelled and fell to the floor beside him. His glare was glued to the young girl, although his expression was riddled with amusement. “Eleven. How lovely of you to join us. Although you are not my Y/n, you are alike to me. And I wish to have you by my side just the same. We can be a family, Eleven. Join me.”

I looked to the girl shaking my head profusely. I began backing away, no longer blocking the path between the two enemies. I knew Eleven was good. But she was still frozen in place, her hand shakily lowering to her side. Henry looked as though he’d already convinced the two of us. There was a growing smirk on his face, one which I would’ve thought was angelic and perfect.

And, as I glanced at Two, who was barely heaving out breaths, I knew that my answer never would’ve been to accept his offer.

“No.”

My attention was brought back to Eleven. She screamed again and pushed at Henry, but this time, he expected it. He fought back with just as much raw strength, both of their arms outstretched. Any smugness and joy was destroyed, and Henry was pissed off. Any care that he had for the girl vanished in that moment, replaced with the vile hatred he felt for the rest of the human race.

Henry took a step further, tilting his head ever so slightly. The lights were flickering so manically. Eleven’s feet were beginning to slip. I gasped, covering my mouth. She was holding her ground, though. I was pleading for her to win. She was the only one who could stop Henry.

And then, her body was flung back into the door. Tears sprung, because Henry began tilting his head. With each tilt, her body slid across the floor, banging into the walls. I had no idea what to do as his hand raised and she was pulled toward him, levitating from the ground.

Eleven was screaming. A shriek bubbled into my throat, and there was only one thing I knew to do. I tried running at him, but as though he knew what I was trying to do, his other hand outstretched and I was carelessly flung against the wall. A scream escaped as I saw that Eleven was quickly losing strength as he rotated her toward him.

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

With a flick of his wrist, cracks echoed in the room. Two’s unconscious body was beside me as I was pinned to the wall, and it was like I was being choked, even though I could breathe just as well. He was focusing such attention on both of us, and my nails dug into the wall.

“H - Henry! Please, don’t… I’ll do any - anything…”

Eleven was choking profusely, and Henry spared me a glance. His eyes were so cold and his expression so angry. And yet, he dropped me to the ground. I had no strength, crawling on my hands and knees. I watched as Eleven’s bones were beginning to flex unnaturally.

“Stop!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs. “Henry, please! I - if you do this, I’ll hate you forever! J - just leave her be.”

Henry chuckled, glancing my way. There was a trace of amusement on his expression, and he was killing Eleven so care-freely. It terrified me to my core. 

“No, you wouldn’t, my dear. And even if that were true… I couldn’t care less.”

Eleven’s screams became unbearable to hear. I kept crawling until I was right at Henry’s legs. All of my strength escaped me and I bowed completely, grasping at his shoes. His attention was solely on the dying girl as blood tears dripped down her cheeks and onto the floor beside me. 

I grasped his pant leg disparately. Sobs broke free and I was shaking completely, using his leg to balance myself to look up at him. I was a total mess, and if Eleven died… I do not think I could live in this world. One without a home. My mother. The faux Henry I’d fallen in love with. These abused children who I swore my life to the moment I met them. 

“H - Henry,” I hiccuped, tugging again.

His eyes widened momentarily and he glanced down at me. He gulped thickly, and that’s when I saw it. Concern. Regret. Love. His arm lowered all of a sudden and the unconscious girl crashed to the ground. I gasped happily, using what strength I had to attempt to crawl over to the girl.

But all was in vein as Henry’s hand snuck into the collar of my work uniform. He gripped it tightly but clearly used his other hand to lift me into the air. My body straightened and I was completely disoriented, still pawing in Eleven’s direction.

But, instead, my body flexed and rotated to his desire until I plopped right into his arms bridal style. I panted furiously feeling Henry’s chest heave with breaths that were surprisingly more controlled and less labored. My gaze finally removed itself from the barely alive child and flickered up to Henry fearfully. I hugged my chest and trembled in his arms, even though he held me close.

“Oh, Y/n,” he cooed in worry,” you couldn’t have possibly meant what you thought. I would never hurt you. You could never leave me, don’t you understand? If you were to do so… I couldn’t bear to live in this awful world. I love you.”

“I - it would be better if I died if it meant you would too…” I choked, wracking my brain for even the slightest insult. “…You b - bitch!”

Henry was taken aback, but a smile crept up to his lips. Even though he had a permanent stench of blood and his cheek had maroon smears, all of the anger and concentration dissipated. A light laugh escaped and his eyes crinkled in amusement. 

“Oh, my love, you’re so adorable when you’re mad.”

My mouth fell dry in realization. Of course, it should’ve been evident from the beginning when we first met. He was too perfect. Too calculated. And now, he’d revealed his true self. That he was utterly and absolutely insane. Mad with power and some psychopathic tendency from a young age. And because of that, he had everything to his liking.

It truly and utterly broke my heart.

His tilted his head forward, and with a slight nudge to the side, my hair, sticky with sweat, was flung out of my face. That destroyed any of the curtains I had to mask myself from the man - no, the monster - before me. He hummed contently as he lowered his lips, placing a chaste kiss to my forehead. It lingered, pressing even further.

And I knew not to ruin his mood. Eleven’s - and Two’s - unconscious bodies were lingering reminders that he could revoke his pity. As badly as I wished to jerk away and pry free, I couldn’t.

Henry was too strong.

And all of a sudden, I heard a grunt. Henry’s attention was alerted, but it was too late. Eleven’s petite hand stretched toward us. Henry went to react, eyes wide with surprise, but he was flung into the glass. I screeched as my body fell to the floor. I watched and Henry was shoved through the glass and hit the wall of the back room.

He tried so hard to struggle. By then, Eleven had risen to her feet. A stream of blood was dripping from her nose. Henry’s screams were so angry. Not even painful. He couldn’t fight back, body floating and pressed against the wall.

And that’s when everything began to teeter in Eleven’s favor. She was screaming, too, from exerting herself so very much. And yet, Henry’s body was unraveling before my very eyes. It was as though he was being burned alive, and it was horrifying to witness.

His skin was flaking and particles began floating in the air. Bone marrow was present, and around his body, a large hole was forming. Tears were streaming down my face and I was so numb that all I could do was watch intently. And then, all of a sudden any semblance of him was gone. The screams went silent and Eleven almost collapsed, but I caught her.

We stared in awe at where Henry once was. He was dead. That stung, knowing my whole reality was a lie. Because Henry was right. Even as he strangled the living bejesus out of the children I’d come to care for, I loved him. I always had, and perhaps I had been in denial of his true personality for the longest time.

Suddenly, Two groaned. I gasped, releasing Eleven as she composed herself from the shock. The poor boy was barely alive, but I helped him to his feet. He started bawling his eyes out as I fretted over him. And then, the playroom doors slammed open. We all turned, realizing Papa - no, Doctor Brenner - had burst the door open. He took but one glance over the room before this gaze landed on Eleven.

“What have you done?”

And, without hesitation, Eleven threw him back into the wall, rendering unconscious. It was easy to know what we had to do next.

[ddostoyevskyy]

❝𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐖 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍❞

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈: A Gift of God, 𝐈!

Edogawa Ranpo

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒... f!reader (although, it can be read as gn!reader, the pronounce I’ve used is “she,” “her,” so...), psychological abuse, child abuse, abduction, drug overdose, murder, blood, Mori, mind manipulation, Eisoptrophobia (fear of mirrors), Spectrophobia (fear of reflection in the mirrors), the reader changes eye colors according to the true emotions of people (part of reader’s ability). This warnings will going to be use in the future chapters.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄... In this chapter (including further chapters of TLOA), will be going to have flashbacks. Everything, including the plot is not connected to the canonverse anymore, nor it has to do with the original plot of BSD. Although, I hope you’re already aware with that, I’m just reminding you all. Thank you, and enjoy reading.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒... 1.669K

SERIES MASTERLIST

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄, 𝐈, 𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐕, 𝐕

You never understood, aren’t you? The more you run away, the more I want to chase after you.

Settled in a cold, dark room — the only illuminating light of the full moon helped you throughout the night of terrors, the silent night, where you couldn’t hear the footsteps that makes you shivered. It was always dark in this place, although you figured out you were in a facilitated hospital where you were the only patient in this place, you were always kept awaken at night and asleep by the daylight.

Since the beginning, your memories have disappeared by the time you keep waking up at night. The memories of your family vanished as the pain in your head keeps throbbing the more you think about it. It was painful, it was horrifying. The images of every people you met is only placed by nothing, but a terrifying silhouette. You never really cared before, but the more you realized, the more it keeps replaying in your mind.

How long have you been in this prison? How old are you? Are you even still alive?

The sight of your small arms, all busted — painted with hues of blue and purple. The veins in your arms are prominent and it hurts everytime it was forced. The scars in your body is still unknown, those bandages wrapped around your head is making you more curious.

A quiet footsteps emitted through the air, cutting the heartstopper silent of the night as you flinched, scurrying your back through the bed as you scramble the blanket back to cover your whole body. Your heart pounds through your chest as you heard the door’s lock clicked and it creaks open.

An unknown voice emits through the air, a sense of familiarity washes over you as you peek your eyes open and then close, seeing the light in the room flickered open. A man you haven’t seen, yet he seems so familiar as he faced you with teary-eyes — a sense of regret washes on his face as you keep laying down with your eyes now open, lips shaped in a thin line as you watch his movements — he kneeled down on the side of your bed, his large hand place over your small ones as you flinched awake, sitting upright to the bed as you move farther away.

“(Name)? It’s me... Oh, gosh, it’s me. Your father. Don’t you remember?” He sobbed, reaching out for you as you stared down at him.

You remembered.

You never really forget at all. You can’t forget.

After all, he made you that way.

Those unknown people in your memories became known. Their faces had showed up one by one as your mind resonated within the brightness of the room. The sight of a father weeping in front of his child hits a nostalgic feeling until it fades away again.

You can’t feel anything, but you remembered.

Your eyes drifted in front of you, where a single, strange mirror occupied as you stare at your reflection — the horrifying sight of a child stared back at you as your eyes widened, a loud scream breaks through your lungs and the man by your side flinched, eyeing the mirror as he pulls you away from its sight, the sight of your fragile body that could break within the touch of his hand makes his heart clenched. He could see how the veins on your body could burst any seconds as you keep screaming, nails scratching through your skin as he tried to stop you from hurting yourself.

How did you even ended up like this? The mirror... the only thing you could remember is the sight of that man’s face as he appeared in your dream. His dark hair and lilac eyes... his terrifying smile and cold touch. Everything came back like a crashing tidal waves as the cold water hit your body — your cries resonated through the room that not even your beloved father could even stop you.

“(Name), please. I’m so sorry, please, calm down.” His whispers through your ears is making you more irritated, the anger in your veins made your eyes twitched. The pain in your body became more prominent and the broken sob that left your mouth even hurts.

“Has (Name) been always like this? Poor child.” Another voice had appeared through your ears, an unfamiliar voice... someone you’ve never heard before. It’s not him... you were sure of it. But, one thing you were also sure is this another person is just like him.

“N-No... (Name) never had any tantrums like this. This is the first time... (Name) had seen herself in the mirror, so it must be a shock.”

No, no, no, no, no. That’s not it! You wanted to scream, but your voice became hoarse and you can only squirm on your father’s arms.

A man appeared in front of you as he kneeled down, placing a hand on your cheek as you flinched, eyes widening at the familiar coldness of his fingertips on your warm skin and you’re completely frozen as you stared up to him, mouth parting to let out a shaky breath as your tears eventually stream down on your cheeks.

This is not him... then why are you so afraid? What are you afraid of? The mirrors? Or the horrifying sight of your reflection throughout it? Is it this man in front of you? Or the man that resembles him? The man on the mirror.

“Why did you even made your own child like this, Mister (Last Name)? Her own ability has a lot of potential.”

“N-No, Mister Ougai... he... I don’t even know that man... the child or whoever he is, but both of us just witnessed our family... my wife, her mother killed with just a touch of his hand. He blackmailed me. By that time, I already surrender (Name) on his hands without even thinking and he ordered me to manipulate my child’s ability into something more... terrifying.” You heard your father mumbled as your body shook in his embrace. You remembered every single details that it made you dizzy.

“What does this child can do?”

“I never tried to use (Name), Mister. He is the only one who can bring my child’s ability with his command.”

“Then, I should’ve take care of this child, Mister (Last Name). Are you willing to trust her to me? I can make her use her ability to the fullest without ever hurting her like he did.” The man replied, staring down at you as you keep your eyes sharp as you stare back at him in silence. His words were sweetened, yet his eyes tells a lot of his lies — you can really sense such power to this man, the cunning look in his eyes goes unnoticed through your eyes that eventually shifts its color into something dark, raven, and ravishing — like a predators eyes that he could almost see his reflection through your eyes.

Mori’s lips tugged upwards when he realizes your expression.

Your hand immediately flew to your father’s coat, gripping tightly as you pushed yourself to snuggle on his arms more. The gesture looks so sweet, yet in Mori’s eyes and your perspective, the safest person in this room is not even your father anymore. It was the way of how you protect yourself — although Mori can get rid of your father if he won’t agree, he made a silent threat as he stares at you with dark eyes, yet you never stood back down on your ground as you stare back with the same intensity.

“Father,” You called out as you snuggle on your father’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as you bury your face through his shirt. This way, you can protect the both of you before you could figure out the way out of here. You just needed time and patience. You were never once afraid... that moment on your life in his grasp were just the most terrifying thing that happened in your life that you couldn’t even move, nor could you think straight. But now that you have learned your lesson, you can finally break into freedom.

“It hurts.” You break into tears, this will do, even though your throat hurts and your mind hazy, you did your best to act. Tugging your father’s strings on his heart, although you think, he really deserves to die is the only thing you can do right now. He was never really present in your life, you remembered your mother, although you can’t feel anything anymore... the memories in your mind made your heart and body numb.

“Lend me time to think, Mister Ougai. Please. I want to be together with my child for now.”

“Very well.” He answered and you wanted to scream on his face as he hold on the doorknob, he kept his eyes on you, a frown appearing on his face.

Before he slam the door shut, your eyes widened for a moment, hearing his voice without his lips moving, “You’re never gonna get away, young (Name).”

A shiver run through your spine as he finally disappeared.

It was the same phrase he used to tell you... someone named after a gift of God.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved 2023 © ddostoyevskyy. Do not repost without permission or plagiarized.

[bojackhorsemanobviously]

write a fictional story of mr. peanutbutter giving bojack horseman a hug who finds the act alarming having never received hugs as a kid he wasn't sure how to feel about themChatGPT

In the quiet confines of Mr. Peanutbutter's spacious Hollywood Hills home, a familiar tension lingered in the air. BoJack Horseman stood by the large bay windows, gazing out at the twinkling city lights below. It had been a long day, filled with the usual ups and downs that seemed to follow him like shadows.

Mr. Peanutbutter, ever the optimist, sensed BoJack's melancholy. He approached his friend cautiously, his tail wagging in anticipation. "Hey there, BoJack," he said, his voice carrying an undertone of concern. "I couldn't help but notice that you're feeling down. Is there anything I can do to help?"

BoJack turned his head slightly, meeting Mr. Peanutbutter's gaze with weary eyes. "I don't know, PB. Sometimes, I just feel so lost. Like I'm stuck in this cycle of self-destruction, and I don't know how to break free."

Mr. Peanutbutter's face softened, and without hesitation, he opened his arms wide, ready to embrace his friend. "BoJack, maybe what you need is a hug. Hugs can be powerful, you know. They remind us that we're not alone, that we're loved and cared for."

BoJack looked at Mr. Peanutbutter, his eyes widening in surprise. The idea of a hug seemed foreign to him. He had grown up in a family that was emotionally distant, where physical affection was rare and often misunderstood. He wasn't sure how to react to this unexpected gesture.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over BoJack. He felt a mix of vulnerability and discomfort, like an exposed nerve longing for touch but recoiling from it at the same time. Hugs were uncharted territory for him, a language he had never learned to speak.

As Mr. Peanutbutter approached, his arms outstretched, BoJack hesitated for a moment. He stood frozen, unsure if he should embrace the gesture or push it away. He thought about the fractured relationships he had experienced throughout his life, the moments when he had pushed people away and been pushed away in return.

But then, amidst his confusion, BoJack saw something in Mr. Peanutbutter's eyes—a genuine concern, a desire to offer comfort and support. In that vulnerable moment, BoJack decided to take a chance. He stepped forward and allowed himself to be enveloped in Mr. Peanutbutter's warm embrace.

The hug felt strange, yet strangely comforting. BoJack could feel Mr. Peanutbutter's heartbeat against his chest, a rhythmic reminder of their shared humanity. It was an act of connection he had never experienced before, and it stirred something deep within him.

As the seconds ticked by, BoJack realized that he wasn't alone in his struggle. In Mr. Peanutbutter's arms, he found a glimmer of hope, a reminder that there were people who cared about him despite his flaws. The hug didn't solve all of his problems, but it reminded him that there were moments of genuine connection to be found in the world.

Eventually, the hug came to an end, and BoJack pulled away, his eyes glistening with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "Thank you, PB," he said softly. "I... I don't know what to say."

Mr. Peanutbutter smiled warmly, patting BoJack on the back. "You don't have to say anything, BoJack. Just remember, we're all here for you, no matter what. And if you ever need another hug, I'll be right here."

As BoJack processed Mr. Peanutbutter's words, a small flicker of hope ignited within him. Maybe, just maybe,