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animasola86 · 4 months

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SMUT DRABBLES*: Car Inspection

A/N: Yet another little smut scene, *no longer a drabble (Drabble? Who's she?), but still short. Like with my other drabbles, you can imagine any character you want here, it's usually just a man and a woman having a good time. Today I give you oral sex, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex and creampies. And cars (so think up an AU where it works, if you will).

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! // WORDS: 1.3k // AO3

“Lemme take a look under the hood, miss,” he's said, and now she's sitting on the warm metal, gripping his broad shoulders, legs held open by strong hands, while he has his head buried under her skirt.

His tongue is as hot as the sun batting down on them, licking through her folds with fervor and certainty, expert motions, warm lips, teasing teeth, kissing, sucking, nibbling, pulling her sensitive skin into his mouth, nose rubbing against her clit.

He's lapping at her like a man starved, the slurping and squelching noises mixing with the chirp of cicadas, the subtle squeak of the car beneath her, her own rapid breaths. He's good, knows what to do, where to look and lick. She's come to the right place.

Her skirt obstructs the view, but she's still on display, writhing and squirming, bare feet squeaking over the metal hood in an attempt to anchor herself. He's ruthless in his assault, focusing now fully on that sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue around it, laving it, sucking on it.

She's losing it, her head spinning, it's too hot, the air is stale and dry, and her lungs are protesting. The tension in her belly is like a burning thing, growing and expanding, filling her out like she wishes he would fill her out.

He groans into her, the sound vibrating through her clenching cunt. His hands move, one big palm pressed to her stomach, forcing her down on her back, the other slipping under the tent of her skirt as well. He's teasing her, nibbling on her clit while his fingers slide through her slick before they take a dip into her heat, plunging deep, two at once, pushing in and out, scissoring inside her, stretching, massaging, curling against that sweet spot.

She arches her back, shoulders pressed into the hood, cries out, thighs trembling around his shoulders, her own shaking hand gripping at his wrist, nails sinking into his skin before he slips his long fingers between hers, holding her hand, heavy on her stomach. He pumps his other digits into her, licks her clit, the tension explodes within her. Their joined hands hold her down when she convulses, jerks her hips against his face and fingers, shivering under the hot sun.

He licks up every drop with broad strokes of his tongue, his fingers moving slower, bringing her down gently before they retreat, gripping her twitching thigh, warm and slick and strong, while he pushes his mouth to her lower lips, kisses her deeply, tongue pressing into her quivering hole.

She wails again, quietly in the open space, her voice drowned by the screeching insects trying to be louder.

He's shifting, emerging from under her skirt, nose and lips and chin glistening in her juices, hair messy, face flushed. She's also red in the face, panting, trying to avoid those hungry eyes. His hands find her warm cheeks when he straightens up, towering over her.

His kiss tastes tangy, salty, sweet, all at once and more, her own taste on his tongue as he claims her mouth. She moans into it, clinging to his bare back, sweat slick and strong, muscles flexing beneath sun touched skin. He pushes her up the hood of the car, his hips between her shaking legs, pinning her down, skirt flipped up entirely now. His body is blocking the view, she couldn't care less who sees her.

With his tongue wrestling hers, he grips her waist, one hand disappearing between them, the clink of a belt, the whirring scrape of a zipper, a little groan when he grips his cock and guides it to her dripping cunt. She moans into his mouth, fingernails sinking into his skin while he sinks into her, small frantic rolls of his hips as he slowly fucks her open, stretches her, fills her, in and out, inch by inch until he's bottomed out.

His hands on her hips pull her into him, closer, deeper, her legs spasm against him before she hooks them around his thick thighs. Muscles flex under denim, his grip rough as he starts pulling out to slam back in, over and over again, his grunts as loud as her moans, the kiss messy and breathless.

She's lightheaded, sun-burnt, a sweaty mess in his strong grip, her hands gripping at his waist, leaving angry crescent-shaped marks as she squirms against him, trying to meet his thrusts.

He leans back, leaving her tingling lips, presses his forehead to hers, eyes staring into her soul, warm and dark and mesmerizing, hungry, breaths hot and dizzying, mingling. His hips slam into her slower, deeper, setting an excruciating rhythm, taunting, teasing, slow and steady while they're both burning under the sun, the heat inside her belly almost as unbearable.

She's whimpering, grinding her pelvis into him, digs her heels into his lower back, eyes pleading. The smirk on his lips makes her angry, growling through her gritted teeth. His hands tighten around her hips, fingers bruising, and when he leans back fully, a barely there shadow falling onto her shaking body, looking down at her, he stops moving altogether, cock hard and swollen inside her clenching cunt.

She wants to protest, whine, beg, but he only looks at her, tilting his head, before he slowly moves back, cockhead scraping against her tight walls, before he slams back in with a force that makes her yelp, flinch, cry out, as he hits her deepest spot, tip squished against her cervix.

The pain is there, sharp, short, dissipating slowly before it's back, dragging retreat, the hint of reprieve, then another deep stab, hard, fast, agonizing. Again and again, until he grows impatient and just hammers into her, her moans and cries broken up, voice strained, helpless, as his cock pistons in and out, rough and unrelenting, and all she can do is take it.

He grunts, sweat running down his temple, a fine sheen on his bare torso, muscles flexing, his teeth bared and gritted, hands digging into her soft skin. Pull, push, stab. Pull, push, stab. Her own sweat mixes with tears, her cries soundless little puffs of air, her head filled with vertigo and bliss, pain and pleasure. One big hand splayed on her hip, the other moving between them, thumb pressing hard against her clit, and she yelps again, and again, coming hard around his pounding cock, juices coating his length, squelching out with every deep slam.

The car is rocking beneath them, suspension squeaking, needs to be oiled. She's come to the right place. Come at the right place. Over and over again until she's a boneless mess, lying on the hood of her car, arms splayed out beside her, sweaty palms squeaking over metal with every deep thrust, body moved up and down, insides convulsing, muscles contracting, tight around his thick cock. He grunts, groans, huffs, head red under the sun, under the exertion, working overtime.

He comes with a low growl, animalistic, body twitching against her, burying himself deep within her clenching heat, balls tightening, cock spasming, filling her with his hot seed, spurt after burning spurt. She gasps when his hand pushes on her stomach, before he slowly pulls out, panting, eyes glued to her reddened pussy, watching intently, an expert's eye, head tilted, then he slaps his hand on her folds, making her wince.

She's pulled onto her feet, barely able to think, to function, dizzy from the sun and the special service. He lifts her feet, one at a time, puts her panties back on, slides them up her shaking legs. His cum drips down her inner thigh, slowly, slow enough for him to gather it on his finger and push it back up, between her glistening folds, back into her clenching hole. She moans at the sensation, gripping his arm for support. He keeps his finger in her while he pulls her underwear back in place, pumping it slowly before removing it, gently dragging his wet fingertip between her covered folds, trapping his seed.

“I believe there's been a leak, miss,” he says, fixing her skirt, making her presentable again as he looks at her with a proud smile, having found the problem, while she looks up at him with a soft giggle, feeling their combined juices drenching the fabric between her trembling thighs.

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

MORE SMUT DRABBLES:

A steamy shower

Toy

Sleepy

Tension Relief

#smut #mysmut #ao3 smut #smut drabble #smut writer #smut writing #smut prompts #original smut #sebastian sallow smut #tom riddle smut #mattheo riddle smut #harry potter smut #joel miller smut #arthur morgan smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #simon ghost riley smut #mechanic!joel #mechanic!dean

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biscuitblinkeu · 8 months

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To be Loved

Fluff • Abuse • Smut

Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader -> Requested

Word Count: 6885~

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, violence, soft NSFW

Prompt: Soulmate AU with spoice— (reader is shorter than Rosè)

A/N: The long awaited one shot… yeah. I’m on my knees type of sorry for how long this took to get finish. Also, spice starts near the end— SJDHFHDHDJDJ don’t tell me anything about it, just let me fade into existence LOL. It’s not my strong suit, so bear with me. I hope you like some part of it anon! 😭🤞🏽

Soulmates were such a complicated concept. They could be born many years before or after one another; die before meeting; fall in love with someone else— thus breaking their tie; or right out reject their fated pair. They could be halfway across the world, or live in a completely different society than your own.

There were those who didn’t believe in Soulmates, those that thought the system wasn’t fair. But what was fair about fate? It was just a way to bind two people together. Forever. You either got lucky or you didn’t, there’s no in between— soulmates are simply a random occurrence. And the world was too cruel to give everyone the same happiness.

You were one of the few people who didn’t believe in soulmates despite the evidence they were real being all around you. You didn’t believe in the fairytales from poets, the grand, romanticized adventures about those looking for their fated pair, those who traveled across the world, suffered many hardships, and finally, by the wonderful power of destiny, found their other half.

It was all a joke to you. It was unhealthy, too. Imagine spending almost your whole life wishing upon a dazzling shooting star for a soulmate to take you away from the loneliness and the imaginary scenarios, making them true, only to find out they died or broke the tie. Or to pathetically plead to the otherworldly force that created soulmates each year for someone to save you, to love you, for it to not be answered?

It was your own personal experience— something you believed to be a forever thing.

It wasn’t.

The crescent moon grinned down upon you mockingly, its light illuminating the streets. Everyone seemed to always have a destination in mind, somewhere they knew they had to go. You were always lost.

A bitter wind nipped at your face and hands, and you pulled your scarf up more.You looked at the heavy brown-paper bag in your hands and sighed, you had to go back home. Those all familiar feelings bubbled up inside of you once again: hopelessness; fear. These feelings made you hurt, they were empty feelings that just seemed to grow bigger everyday, making it harder for you to have control. You clenched your fists to stop the shaking, even dug your nails into your skin. It didn’t help.

(Even if you did right, you’d still get punished).

That’s how it always started: the trembling. It started from your fingers and made its way through your body till you’re shaking. When you shake you no longer have control of your nerves. If you’ve lost control of your nerves, you get dizzy. Then you’ve lost the ability to breathe properly… and you drown.

You ripped your gaze away from the bag that held bottles of tequila and champagne and forced your feet to move forward. Though, too caught up in trying to prevent yourself from getting overwhelmed, you failed to notice the wild animal scurrying on the sidewalk in front of you. A shriek left you and the bag in your hands dropped as you jumped out of surprise, its contents smashing and spilling out on the floor and your shoes. The smell is strong, and you wrinkle your nose.

There goes your chance at having a peaceful night.

You hope they’ve fallen asleep and forgot. When you’re walking up the driveway you saw that the lights were still on. They’ve just forgotten to turn them off. They’re asleep, you told yourself over and over as you're unlocking the door.

They’re not.

Your mother was still perched on her soulmate’s lap, just as she was when you went out, looking at you expectantly. Your eyes darted to the floor, and a quiet, shaky breath left your lips.

She noticed your hands are empty and her face falls. You could see the burning color appear on her cheeks— she’s angry now, and in front of her soulmate you’ve embarrassed her?

“Excuse me,” she murmured as she slid off his lap. She walked past you, heading to the hallway, and even though she doesn’t verbally tell you to follow her or do any type of gesture, you just know to follow her.

You’re in the hallway, and oh, what a hazardous place to be in. Your eyes darted around the small corridor, taking mental notes of what looked sharp and what could bruise you and what might— “(Y/n).” Her voice was cold and it made you jump, she gave you a what-the-fuck look. “Where are our drinks? Where have you gone to take this long and come back empty handed? Where’s my money? Where has it been spent?” She bombarded you with questions.

“I had them, but…” Should you tell her you were a klutz and dropped it?

Well, you’re unable to anyways. The moment your mom scrunched her nose up with that glint in her eyes you knew what was coming, yet you weren’t ready for it. It was just so fast.

A heavy, hard smack collided with your cheek, knocking you off balance to the ground. The trip wasn’t so smooth as your back dug into the sharp dresser edge on the way. You held your cheek, blinking rapidly as pain assaulted your senses. God, your head was spinning, your ears were ringing, and your face burned. You bit your lip to stop any cries. Tears pricked at your eyes and you refused to look at her, your gaze trained to the polished wood boards.

Your mother has already come up with her scenario, her answer instead of hearing you out. (Not that the outcome would be any different, but maybe less harsh).

“So you decided to drink it yourself, huh?” She scoffed, rubbing at her temples like you were an annoying headache. “I knew I smelt something… You naughty little girl, that was ours!” You still smelt like the alcohol, meaning you must’ve drunk theirs, that’s the only reasonable conclusion, right?

You saw her coming closer to you. She grabbed a handful of your hair and you yelped, forced to stand up. Your legs scrambled for grip underneath you and as soon as it’s gained, it’s lost when your mother’s knuckles collide with your jaw on the same side of the slap. She was not going easy on you, and you deserve it. You deserve this, because this is what you get for not paying attention.

Your vision blurred for a moment and you finally let a cry escape your lips. “Mom!” Your mother rolled her eyes and practically manhandled you to your room, her nails digging into the side of your waist and arm with a bruising grip as she pushed you forward. “Mom! Please stop, it hurts!”

“Good,” she sneered, fingers digging deeper into your skin. You whimpered in agony. “You had one job…couldn’t even do that.” You’re scared, everything hurts, and you're beginning to tremble again, and this time, maybe you’ll welcome the panic if it’ll give you something else to focus on.

She pushed you onto your bedroom floor and snorted at your state. “Go to bed. I don’t want to hear anything from you.” Then she slammed the door, the sound ringing in your ears.

You didn’t have the energy to drag yourself onto your bed, and would rather not risk making things harder for yourself, so you curled up on the ground. The sharp smell of cigarettes lingered in the air, causing your nose to sting, each shallow intake of air more stuttered than the last as you began to weep. The gash on your cheek was painful, and the feeling of a wet sensation let you know that the skin was broken and bleeding.

You can’t do this anymore.

You've seen how hard it is for people with mothers and fathers that aren’t soulmates. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. You’ve experienced it first hand.

Your mom and dad weren’t soulmates, just two people that stopped trying. Ever since your mom found her soulmate (Evan) and broke up with your dad, you were able to see your mom finally in true love, yet your dad was broken. His soulmate, who died before they could meet, awaited him in the afterlife. Not long before they broke up, it was like the Universe decided he had nothing else to live for if not with his soulmate, and he passed.

Since then, Evan stopped you from finishing your studies to stay home and take care of your mom and the expected baby. The miscarriage was highly unexpected, and you’ve been the punching bag since. Your little brother's death was traumatic for them, and they couldn’t come up with a reason why it had to be that way— so it was pushed onto you.

It’s your fault, your mom told you; you should’ve taken care of her better, Evan had said, she was too stressed out because of you. You’ll never find your soulmate, they said, creating the first crack. You're unlovable. Useless. Who could ever love you? You’re here because your soulmate left you.

(It was then you realized you couldn’t rely on a soulmate to save you).

With your studies discontinued, your life plans were shattered. You've been forced to live with your mom since your dad died, having no other place to go. You’ve hopped from job to job, saving up money to leave and get back on track, but they take it away from you anyways. You're stuck.

That’s why you decided to run away.

When Evan and your mom retired to their room, you waited a few hours, then snuck out of your room— for the first time grateful for not having a lock— with a bag packed. You always kept some funds away from your mother, funds she didn’t know about, and today you would use them. The downstairs was quiet, and you made sure to stray away from creaky floorboards. You turned the corner, flinching upon seeing Evan in the kitchen digging through the fridge. You needed to go through the kitchen to get out. His droopy, unkind eyes settled on you.

“Hey,” he said, frowning as he put his cup down. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your room?”

When he took a step towards you, you bolted, running past him and throwing the door open. A moment later the same door flew open, and you realized he was chasing you. “Hey! Fuck— get back here!”

You ran harder, barely getting air into your lungs as you turned corners and ran through streets, bumping into people. When you no longer heard his voice yelling after you, you switched into a slow jog, then a tired walk.

You walked a few blocks, then entered a café to rest.

You glanced around the room, noting how cozy it was. It reminded you of how your grandma’s house would have a homey atmosphere; old family photographs hung proudly on the walls, soft music playing from a record player, and the air scented with something that made you warm. There weren't many customers, and you figured it was close to closing.

You hung your backpack over a chair and sat down, resting your head on the table, taking a much needed break. You would order a drink, but didn’t want to inconvenience the baristas since they were cleaning up. When you felt your eyes closing, you reminded yourself to leave before

they closed.

It wasn’t long before you slipped into a nap, the comforting atmosphere lulling you deeper, and ignored the almost overwhelming feeling in your heart. You ignored the tugging sensation on your index finger too.

“Excuse me,” a voice whispered, accompanied by a soft tap on your shoulder. When you didn’t respond, she lightly shook your shoulder.

You flinched awake and she furrowed her brows. “Hi, I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you, but it’s closing time and…” She trailed off.

You couldn’t believe Rosé from Blackpink, global kpop star and ambassador, was in front of you. You took note of the khaki, bear-printed apron she wore along with a name tag,p: the café’s uniform. But more importantly, why was she so much prettier up close? Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, and a couple strands were left out to frame her face. Her eyes were a soft but narrow shape, giving them a natural innocent look, and her nose was perfectly straight and sculpted. The bit of freckles that graced her nose and cheeks made her even more breathtaking.

The ever so reddening of her cheeks let you know that you were staring far too long.

You quickly stood up and unhooked your backpack from the wooden chair, slinging it over your back. “I’m sorry,” you apologized almost immediately, as if it’s out of habit. Your eyes darted back to the floor, and she felt her heart break.

Something clearly wasn’t right.

“I’ll leave now…thank you for waking me up.” Without waiting for her response you started to walk away, unable to endure her curious gaze any longer. Though, a hand wrapping itself around your wrist stops you in your actions, and prompts a quiet gasp to leave your lips. Her touch was electric. You turned back around, trying not to dwell on the warmth encasing your wrist, and faced her.

Why did she just grab you? She, too, looked shocked. Her cheeks dusted with a light pink as she looked away from you. Did she feel it too?

Looking down, she noticed the harsh blobs of purple and green peeking out from your hoodie sleeve and her heart jumped for a whole different reason. They were shaped like fingerprints— like someone grabbed you violently. At the realization, she was momentarily rendered speechless.

She only had one thing on her mind, and it wouldn't be right if she ignored it. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked down briefly before looking you straight in the eyes. Her eyes soft with concern, she asked, “Are you okay?” Immediately, you tensed up. You inhaled sharply, attempting to steady yourself by taking deep breaths. “You’re hurt. Who did this to you?” She pressed.

There it was. You could feel tears building at the corners of your eyes, and she definitely noticed. You tried to speak, but your tongue felt too heavy to form coherent words. “I— I’m…” You're fine? You injured yourself?

“Please tell me, I need to know.” Her voice was stern yet laced with a gently concern. You weren’t getting out of this. Her hand loosened its grip, but didn't fully let go. Did she know you would bolt the moment she did?

Your vision started to blur, and you blinked rapidly against the incoming stream of tears. It’s all you can do to keep yourself together. One part of you wanted to tell her, wanted to spill everything, the other held you back and wanted to tell a lie. You shouldn’t burden her. You could take care of yourself. But you couldn’t bring yourself to utter those words.

Noticing your inner turmoil, Rosé backtracked, and apologies were leaving her mouth in a rapid rush. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. That was very rude of me. I’m Chaeyoung. You are?”

You sniffled, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “…(Y/n).”

She smiled lightly. “(Y/n)? Your name is beautiful, I love it. Now… I know I was really forward just now, but I’m worried about you. I can’t just leave this unattended, I— I want to help you…if that’s alright.”

“Help?” You repeated quietly. The word felt foreign on your tongue, even more so hearing it applied to your situation. Usually people looked the other way, not wanting to get involved or merely too scared to. And you’ve gotten so used to it that you felt you weren’t deserving of help. Now, you bitterly wondered why it took so long to come to you, especially in times of need.

“Yes. Do you want my help?” She asked again, softer.

God, yes. Yes, you want help. You could only nod your head, a quiet sob leaving your lips. You hid your face, self-conscious in front of her. Suddenly, you're engulfed in a warmth, such a comforting embrace, and it only makes the tears fall harder.

“It’ll be okay,” she murmured, letting you cry into her chest. She was taller than you, her chin resting delicately upon the crown of your head. The feeling of being cared for washed over you, easing your stress for a minute, allowing you to take some time to calm down. Her scent filled your lungs, and you could have sworn you smelled a floral mixed with vanilla.

Once you calmed down enough, you pulled away and managed to whisper a hoarse, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Now, can I know what’s going on in order to help you better?”

After that short moment, you told her - a stranger you surprisingly felt you could trust - everything. You told her about your parents, getting chased as you tried to leave the house, and the origin of the bruises. You kept it brief, however, and once you explained the details of your situation she offered to take you to the hotel she was staying at.

You were hesitant to leave the café, fearing your family was searching the streets for you, she called her manager to get the two of you and you waited inside. While waiting, she asked you a few things about yourself and exchanged some things about her.

You learned that she had a “complicated" job that left her restless at night, hence why she was helping out at her friend's café. She was humble to a fault, telling you about her friends and how grateful she is to have the opportunities she has now, too.

It wasn’t long before her manager, a young-looking, friendly woman, greeted you when Chaeyoung opened the car door and the both of you slid in. You’re not good at small talk, but she was a natural at it. It wasn’t long before the conversation flowed freely and you didn’t have to pretend. She made you comfortable.

There was a lull in the air, the only noise being the car’s engine grumbling and the wind whipping by the slightly lowered window. She turned to face you fully, and you shifted in your seat from her gaze. “Do you know who I am?”

You bit your tongue at the question, not expecting it— at least, not this soon. (Was it obvious?) “I do. I mean, I may have seen your face on a few products and billboards.” You pinched at the fabric of your pants, not realizing you were beginning to frown. “Is that okay? I’m not trying to...” Intrude; leach; burden.

She cut your rambling short with a chuckle. “That’s fine,” she assured. “It doesn’t change anything. I want to do this.” It honestly scared her how much she wanted to help you.

She has been warned multiple times about “normal people”.

They’re different, all they see is your fame, you on the stage, what you have and what they don’t.

She has been used because of her kindness, taken advantage of and lied to. Threatened, even. But somehow she knew you weren’t like them. She was acting on a feeling she couldn’t explain.

The feeling she has searched for her whole career, perhaps. She pushed the thought to the back of her brain— it was the least of her worries. Now, she needed to make sure you felt safe.

You expected she stayed at a quality hotel, but just seeing it— such a large, grandice building, was mind blowing. It was nestled between a street lined with high end brands and local restaurants, drawing eyes. Nonetheless, you didn’t feel any envy towards her. You knew she had worked hard to get to this point in life.

You followed closely behind Chaeyoung, the guards at their post by the main entrance, intimating you with their blank expressions and bold stances. They gave her a singular nod as she passed, their eyes lingering on you for a few moments with masked confusion. You smiled wryly, imagining how it must look to others, and readjusted the facemask her manager had given you.

You didn’t want to cause any problems for her.

Chaeyoung was a natural at conversing with people, something you lacked in, greeting the receptionist with a smile and small talk. She had just finished laughing at a joke. “Is there another room available on the same floor as mine?” She asked, glancing at you. You furrowed your brows, confusion reflected in your eyes.

The receptionist clicked around the computer for a moment. “Yes, there is. Are you trying to rent it?”

“I am,” she replied.

“Okay can you state the guest name and residency? Or are you buying it in your name?”

“In my name—“

“No!” You blurt suddenly, coming closer to the counting. You turned to her, shaking your head. “I can…I can pay for it, Chaeyoung. You’ve already done enough for me. I can’t ask you to do anything more.” There was something in your voice, pleading, which caught her off guard. Why were you so against it?

She tilted her head quizzically, her lips pursed together. Oh, she would spoil you. She smiled. “No, I can’t let you do that.”

You were flustered, calculating how much she would have to pay: a whole lot. It was definitely pricey for your current funds, but you didn’t care. You didn’t have to stay long… “But it’s only right—-“

”I want to. So please accept, okay?”

Realizing she wasn’t going to back down, you gave up. (For now). “…You’ll at least let me pay you back after, right?” You really didn’t like owing people.

She pretends to think about it for a moment. “Nope, c’mon.” She grabs the keys from the lady and leads you to the elevator.

The ride was silent, and Chaeyoung didn’t seem bothered by the lack of interaction. On the other hand, she realized you had a lot going through your mind. That much was obvious from your lack of expression.

Once she returned to her suite, she would contact Alice or her family for connections to lawyers. Abuse was a touchy subject, getting you to open up would be difficult…

The suite was luxurious— spacious and lavishly decorated with high-end furniture, plush carpets, and drapery. The living room was furnished with comfortable sofas, armchairs, and a coffee table. The large windows offered breathtaking views of the surrounding city. Further in, the bedroom featured a king-sized bed with premium linens and soft pillows, and the lighting is carefully curated, creating a warm environment. The bathroom had marble floors and walls, a deep soaking tub, and a separate rainfall shower.

You re-entered the living space, completely shook. Wasn’t this too much?

Chaeyoung sat on one of the island chairs, swirling around. “Nice, isn’t it? I recently started booking with this place. They have 24-hour room service and a private chef upon request. There’s also a private lounge, spa, and fitness center— but I hardly have time to use those services anyways...”

“It’s… definitely nice.” You couldn’t begin to imagine the price for one day—

“I’m happy you think so, I want you to be comfortable. Are you hungry?” She was already grabbing her phone as she asked, a pamphlet in her hand.

You shook your head, only to be betrayed by your stomach rumbling. She laughed, and the sound made your heart stutter in your chest without warning. She had a cute smile on her face as she beckoned you over. “Not hungry, hm?” She teased.

“Maybe a little,” You said then, your face heating up slightly due to the embarrassment. She smiled wider, typing in the Suite’s website and clicking on food service.

“What would you like? This place is really famous for their pastas and stews, but they have almost everything here.” She started listing off items, going from the most popular to the lesser popular dishes (they’re all expensive either way). Halfway through the selections you stopped her, finding a simple meal that was the least expensive yet filling.

“Can you add the pho and salad to the order? I’m paying for it. You don’t need to spend more than necessary on me.” A stranger.

She frowned at that. “But I’m treating you, still.”

“I know…but you’ve really done enough for me. I can’t ask for more,” you were adamant.

“You can,” She emphasized. “In fact, I want you to. And I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I was the one who wanted to bring you here, and I have more money than I know what to do with, so let me pay for your things, please. I want to do this, let me take care of you.”

You bit into your tongue, mulling over the situation. You knew at this point she wouldn’t let anything go, she’d just insist, and insist, and insist, coaxing you to comply with her lovely smile, and her kind eyes, and her gentle tone that never fails to have you feeling so warm.

“Okay, fine,” You said, and immediately a smile was pulling at her lips, that cheerful mood she had before coming back as soon as it faded. “On one condition: you at least let me pay for the food— yours too.”

“But—”

“I need to do something useful, Chaeyoung. It’s killing me, so just this once, please.”

“Alright,” she reluctantly agreed, almost hesitant to even let you type in your card for the order. “Just this once, and this time only.”

“Yes, yes, thank you,” You finally smiled.

The hotel staff didn’t take long preparing your orders, which is likely expected of such a fancy place like this. The servers came in with a trolly and placed the meals on the table. It looked and smelt delicious, and you and Chaeyoung ate right away.

Sometime while eating, Chaeyoung called for your attention. “Hey, (Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

You paused, bringing the utensil away from your mouth. You took in a breath, steeling your emotions. “No.”

She almost choked. “Can I ask why not?”

At that question you became quiet. Even more so than before. Soulmates— there it is again.

Everyone seems to talk about soulmates; finding their perfect someone, and it seems Chaeyoung is one of them. “I don’t.” You answered, smiling wryly. “A long awaited destiny finding your other half? It’s…it’s really nothing but a fairytale.”

“Oh. Yeah… I guess it’s a little childish.” Once you saw her expression drop more, that look of concern on her face, you glanced away and started stuffing your cheeks with rice again. You shouldn’t feel guilty for opposing the idea— everyone’s entitled to their own options, yet the crestfallen look on her face gave you a pang to your heart. You felt you needed to explain why, and you did.

“No,I didn’t mean it like that… it’s not childish to believe in. I just— I know they’re real; and it’s great if you find yours and you’re happy,” you began, finding it hard to express yourself. “I just think the system isn’t fair.” What you didn’t say, however, is that sometimes it’s a waste of hoping and dreaming. You’re bound to get tired of it, to give up after a while. And giving up hurts the most, because it means accepting you won’t have that happiness.

“I see,” She murmured, given your response. She smiled again, but you could tell it was lacking. “Well, let’s finish eating. The food is getting cold.“

“Right.” You both ate in silence after that. The mood was heavy, filled with awkwardness, uncertainty, and just— something. You didn’t understand why, however. Why is she so caught up on that rare concept? Why does she care if you believe in it or not? You really couldn’t understand her.

Chaeyoung was standing outside the door, returning to her own suite. “I sent you a text from my real number. If you need anything— don’t hesitate to call me, no matter the time. I’m just down the hallway.”

“Okay,” you nodded. Then she left you alone to your own devices.

You decided going to sleep would be the best course of action. You avoided checking your phone, worried that even though you’ve turned off your location they’d still find you.

Just sitting on the king-sized bed made you drowsy, and you were glad Chaeyoung was helping you, because it surely made you feel safer. It wasn’t long before your eyes grew heavy and your breathing evened out, and you were happy to sleep peacefully.

However, it was short lived by rapid-paced banging on the door. Still in the bedroom, you heard the door knob jiggling aggressively, and a few murmured voices. You flinched, immediately reached for your phone to dial a number. It rings twice before she picks up. “Hello? Chaeyoung?” You call anxiously, circling your knees up to your chest as you sit on your bed.

“Yeah?” She answers lightly, her voice evident of sleep, and as much as you’d hate to rip her from her sleep, even if she said she didn’t mind, but you had a problem.

“Someone’s—someone’s banging on my door. I don’t know what to do. What if they get inside? What if it’s my mom? What if they hurt me? I tried calling the security but I got no answer. I’m scared.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down. I’ll be over there right away. Stay in your room for now, okay?” Chaeyoung hurried down the hallway, mindful to not keep you waiting.

In front of your door, a man in a suit slumped against the wall, the hotel staff fussing over him. “Sir, you’re drunk! You’re disturbing our guests, this is not your room. Let us…”

She let out a sigh of relief, knowing the problem wasn’t serious— but still felt tense knowing you weren’t aware of the situation. When the staff got the man off his butt, she knocked on your suite door. “It’s just me. I’m coming in, okay?” With that, she cracked open the door slowly. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw you curled up into a tight ball, crying softly in your bed. Without hesitation, she walked over to the corner of your room where you sat, taking a seat beside you. You leaned back into her arms with a sniffle, looking at her with tears welling up in your eyes. The sight made her want to hold you tighter. “Hey,” she whispered, rubbing your back. “It was just a confused man, he had mistaken the room number.”

“…Really?” You sniffled and pulled away slightly, half-embarrassed you’re relying on her again, half not wanting to leave her arms. She made you feel safe.

“Yes, the staff took care of it right away. I’m sorry you had to experience that…” She was frowning, frustrated it had to be your room, that you were probably scared out of your sleep because of it, and that it might’ve resurfaced some of your trauma. It pulled on her heartstrings seeing you so shaken up and anxious.

“Oh,” you nodded, instantly feeling calmer at the news. “That’s good.”

“It is,” she agreed.

You quietly cleared your throat, realizing the death grip you had on her shirt. Heat spreaded across your nape and face. In front of Chaeyoung, you felt like a middle schooler with a crush all over again. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

“For what?” She asked.

You fiddled with your fingers unconsciously, avoiding her soft gaze. Did she truly not know? “For coming here— for everything.”

Chaeyoung wanted to shake her head and deny it— she did it out of her own violation, afterall, but instead accepted your gratitude. “Of course.”

Something has been on her mind for a while— your presence demanded her full attention; and despite not knowing each other for more than two days, you’ve managed to make her a mess— she felt like she'd do anything for you.

“What’s that on your finger?” She asked, her voice a low murmur. It was a red string, tied into a neat little bow, the other linking end tightly wound around her own finger. Her lips parted in shock, realization donning her features.

“What do you…?” You looked at your finger, only for your words to die in your throat. You stared at the foreign string, heart pounding in your chest and blood rushing in your ears. It couldn’t be.

“You’re my soulmate,” she murmured, sounding so undeniably happy.

“No…” you whispered, shaking your head. It was useless, though, because the evidence was there. You suddenly felt the need to escape Chaeyoung’s embrace— your soulmates embrace. Before you could attempt to get any farther, another step— there were a pair of arms quickly wrapping around you, pulling you against a familiar chest in a tight, tight, tight embrace. It's warm, unyielding, and you were trapped completely— you couldn't get away even if you fought. "Chaeyoung," you started, sucking in shaky breaths, trying to not get drunk by the close proximity. "Y-You said I'm—I'm yours. Your—soulmate?" You get out, half coherent and half blubbering.

She understood you nonetheless, and hummed in acknowledgment, holding you a little bit tighter. "I did," She confirmed. You hadn't even realized that you’d started crying— but you were, and there are hot tears streaming down your cheeks. They're salty, and they're bitter with disappointment, yet above all they're filled with relief.

You’re soulmates, she said.

The rare, one-time chance concept of being a fated pair— having someone in the world that was meant for you and you alone, your complete significant other, where the world pulled you toward them until that bond is broken by choice. It was a lot to process, and it changed just about everything, but—

“I’m here, and we can take this at whatever pace you want. I know it’s hard, very sudden, but… I want this. I want you, if you're willing to accept me.”

…. ⚠️

“You look so beautiful tonight,” Chaeyoung told you, following behind you to your shared bedroom, admiring the way your dress hugged your body. It was a black fitted dress that showed off your shoulders and figure. Your hair was tied up loosely with a pink ribbon.

She changed after the show, wearing something much more comfortable, but still looked amazing.

You flushed, beginning to take your jewelry off at the vanity. “That’s the fifth time you’ve told me that,” you said, a smile present on your face. “But thank you, it makes me really happy. I should say I couldn’t take my eyes off you when you were dancing. It made me….” You trailed off, finding it too bold to confess. Over the course of six months, she’s worked her way into your heart almost effortlessly, supporting and loving you every step of the way. Everyday you're grateful that you were able to meet, even if the way you met wasn’t romantic.

“Made you what?” Rosie stood behind you and rested her hands on your hips. Unable to help herself, she bent down to kiss your exposed neck. You closed your eyes, sighing softly as she kissed the side of your throat. “It’s embarrassing,” you muttered, and she sank her teeth into your skin, causing you to gasp. “Ah— Chaeyoung…”

“Tell me, baby.” Her voice held that tone again, the one that had you shivering under her touch, aching for more.

Knowing you couldn’t convey it through words, you turned around in her arms and wrapped your own around her neck, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as you remembered how she moved to some of their songs’ sensual choreographies and the control she had while doing so. She kissed back, deep and languid. Her palm was hot, sliding over your curves and leaving behind a searing sensation. You broke away from the kiss, your breath coming out ragged as you looked into her eyes, her pupils dilated. “That’s how you make me feel,” you whispered into the little space between you.

She responded by pulling you into another heated kiss. The vibrations of your moans against her mouth made her heart hammer in her chest as she began to lift your dress up slightly, wanting to feel your thighs on her hands again.

Breath hitching roughly in her throat, Chaeyoung felt the tip of your tongue flick at the seam before sliding across its full length. She let you push your tongue past her lips, feeling herself losing herself in the moment, completely surrendering to the sensations coursing through her. (Kissing you seemed to do that to her).

Lips sliding and pressing against each other, tongues touching and tangling, you felt weak in the knees. You squeezed her arm, “Chaeyoung,” you said in between kisses, tugging at her shirt.

She groaned, the breathy sound of her name and the authoritative, low tone coming from you sent tingles rippling down her spine and left her feeling lightheaded.

With one last lingering kiss, she pulled away and led you to the bed by your hand. You laid down first, reaching for her and pulling her towards you. She crawled onto the bed after you, kissing you again. Your fingers played with her hair, combed gently through the locks. “This feels good,” you said quietly, tilting your head for more access, feeling a sense of contentment, desire, and love welling up inside of you. You felt her pause and smile against your skin.

While busying herself with making pretty marks on your neck, her fingers traced along your bare thigh, making you writhe beneath her, and she reveled in how sensitive you were to her touch.

She groaned at the slight tug from your fingers threading themselves in her hair as she continued to kiss your neck. “We can stop anytime...”

"No,” You said almost too quickly, gasping when you felt her bite you lightly, teeth nipping at your neck before a tongue soothed the area. "Please, don't stop.” You were ready to go all the way tonight.

Chaeyoung’s heart could burst out of her chest in that moment, knowing that you were ready for the next step, that between soulmates it would make the bond even stronger. She made her way up and kissed you again, now with a fever and tenderness that had a growing hunger.

Your fingernails dug into her back when she darted her tongue slow and deep across the roof of your mouth— in and out, over and over, in a way that made you instantly imagine her mouth traveling elsewhere. The idea alone got you riled up.

"Chaeyoung, please.." you gasped against her lips as another wave of heat circled through your abdomen and pulsed between your legs.

"We've got time, my love," She slotted a leg between your thighs, pressing against your center purposefully. “I'm all yours tonight." Her hand slipped between your bodies, hiking up your mini-dress just enough for her to have access to your lace panties.

You gasped and tightened your grip in her hair, subconsciously bucking your hips the moment her fingers brushed across your center. A wave of pleasure overtook your body, and you could feel her edging to dip her fingers lower. It wasn’t long before she felt how soaked you were, how wet she made you, forcing a stifled moan from her throat that vibrated against your lips. You whimpered, tightening your thighs around her hand at the sound.

Knowing what you needed, she quickly discarded your underwear, and dipped a finger in you, making you shudder and squirm. Giving you a few moments to adjust, she watched your face for any signs of discomfort before pumping in and out. You lifted your hips off the bed to meet her pace, her finger reaching deeper with each slow, tantalizing pump.

You could barely think straight with how intense everything suddenly became, and it only intensified as she added a second finger, pumping faster. There was a coil building in your stomach, moments away from snapping. “Chaeyoung— I’m gonna—” You panted heavily, your face burning, eyes closed tightly. With every stroke, your walls contracted tightly around her finger, making her curse under her breath. "Fuck, love. You're so tight... Are you close?”

You nodded against her shoulder frantically, nails digging into her back.

“Then come for me,” she murmured, adding her thumb in the mix to push you over the edge, her fingers relentless, as you arched forward, the pressure in your lower stomach building to such an extent you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your whole body trembled, incoherent words and moans leaving your mouth, your entire body shaking as an orgasm ripped through you.

All the while Chaeyoung slowed the pace, your body writhing underneath her hand as she pumped in and out, her fingers gliding across your sensitive spot as she watched you come apart for her, helping you ride it out. She felt breathless, and absolutely loved seeing you like that; all flushed and sweaty, needy for her. You're her Angel— her soulmate.

She kissed you, slow and sweet. “There, love. I’ve got you,” she cooed softly. “I love you, you did so well.”

You reached up, cupping her cheeks, loving the way your soulmate looked at you. “Just give me a moment,” you said, smiling. “It’ll be your turn next.”

#biscuitblinkeu #blackpink x reader #fanfic #blackpink #fem reader #rosé x reader #rosé x fem!reader #park chaeyoung x reader #park chaeyoung x fem!reader #biscuitrequest

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world0fmadness · 8 days

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OPEN YOUR HEART TO IT

pelle “ dead ” ohlin x reader

♡ general comforting headcanons for pelle!

୨୧ again, i conjoined two requests for this one because they were very very very similar! hopefully the anons do not mind! where are my god of war fans at? gosh, i love faye and her dialogue so so so much <3

♡ requested by anon | related hc available here, here and here | view my metal masterlist here

reading music recommendations: dark and lonely water by 400 lonely things - ashamed by health

♡ when it comes to comforting pelle, i think it could be a little difficult at times…

୨୧ more so at the beginning of your relationship, sometimes it would take a lot to really get him to open up and let you comfort him

♡ but as i said, this is mainly at the start of your relationship, when he still hasn’t completely opened up to you and opened his heart fully

୨୧ he’d likely just shake his head and stay silent when you attempt to comfort him, putting on a front as if he really isn’t all that sad or hurt, pulling away from you when you try to touch him and you will eventually just have to leave him be…

♡ but after a little while of dating, when pelle has almost completely opened up to you and opened his heart to you, he becomes much easier to approach and comfort when you know he needs it

୨୧ when it comes to him hurting himself, wether it be after a concert or just in general, the rest of mayhem kind of leave him to you, making sure he gets to you fine and knowing you can deal with him much better than they can, knowing that you can get through to him deeper than they can…

♡ after a concert that included pelle harming himself, usually necrobutcher or euronymous will force him over to you, having to slightly hold him up due to pelle being lightheaded and wobbling on his feet from blood loss

୨୧ after dropping him down on a seat next to you, they’ll likely wish you good luck and pat pelle on the shoulder before leaving, you thank them as they leave the room, knowing that if pelle has an audience, even if just one person, he likely wouldn’t have let you comfort him fully

♡ obviously, it damn near makes you vomit seeing someone you love so dearly purposefully hurt them self and bleed in front of you with seemingly no care for themselves but you would have to brave it out for him, you certainly can’t be a super blood sensitive person if you want to date and comfort pelle…

୨୧ as you go to grab some gauze and wound cleaning solution from your bag, now beyond used to this ritual of care after concerts and always keeping things like this with you, pelle will lift his head slightly to watch you… his blonde hair draped like curtains over his face, watching you with a slightly fearful look in his eyes, as if he was afraid you were walking away from him, leaving him…

♡ but the second you turn back around with the first aid equipment in hand, he quickly looks back down at his knees, his shaky hands tightening around his knees as blood still drips down his wrists and bleeds into his blue jeans

୨୧ when you sit back down next to him, you ask his permission before lifting his arm over to your lap, he’ll be dead silent but give you a nod of assurance, letting you know you can take his arm, you can fix him up

♡ pelle might be able to hurt himself so deeply but i do not think he would be immune to the pain, the sting of the wound cleaning solution as you drip it onto his wound

୨୧ he won’t cry from the pain but you will notice a difference as the liquid makes contact with the torn skin, his fists clenching and mouth dropping open slightly to release deep pants through gritted teeth… of course, this only makes you feel even worse as you mumble apologies to him, rubbing his upper arm with your free hand, trying to soothe his pain and he won’t try to stop you, the feeling of your fingers rubbing soothing circles into his skin helping him regulate his breathing and his fists loosen

♡ pelle would likely be very tired after cutting himself on stage, the loss of blood and pain coursing through his malnourished body simply exhausting him so in the midst of you cleaning his wounds, he’ll lean his head over to you, hunching his back and resting his head against your shoulder, remaining quiet as he inhales your natural musk and the scent of your shampoo from your hair

୨୧ you bring your free hand up to stroke his hair, the position making it a little harder to clean his wounds but you work through it, not wanting to move him, knowing how tired he must be and how comforted he feels with his head on your shoulder

♡ when you tilt your head to place a sweet kiss against his hair, resting your cheek atop his head as you talk to him softly, telling him how talented he is and how great you thought his vocals were this concert, pelle would probably actually fall sleep against your shoulder, mumbling an almost unintelligible two word phrase of love before he knocks out

“ love you… ” ( you can just barely make out what he said, his swedish accent even stronger due to his mind being foggy with sleep, it only causes you to smile and whisper that you love him too )

୨୧ he is just so tired, you do not wake him up, you just continue fixing him up, rubbing his back to keep him asleep when you begin to apply the gauze, lifting his wrists to your lips to place a soft kiss on the cotton covered wounds as he hums in his sleep, as if sensing the love

♡ this type of comfort is crucial to pelle, it proves something to him, proves something to the rest of the guys and it just helps him

୨୧ other times you comfort pelle and he accepts the comfort with very little to no resistance is the days he simply isn’t feeling the best, days when his mind is worse than ever and simply won’t let him rest…

♡ usually he just won’t even want to get out of bed on these days, or he’ll want to walk into the forest and stay there, surrounded by silence and animal bones scattered scarcely across the forest floor, most likely just laying back on the ground or sitting up against a tree and staring blankly ahead for hours

୨୧ when he just doesn’t want to get out of bed, when he just lays flat on his back staring up at the blank ceiling with his mouth dropped open slightly to release laboured breaths, he will not be as easy to open up

♡ it’s not even like he just doesn’t want to open up to you, it’s just that he doesn’t particularly know how to… he doesn’t know how to describe how he feels, he’s never really opened up to someone like he has you before…

୨୧ when you realise it’s one of those days for pelle, you’ll immediately become softer towards him, not that you weren’t already soft on him but you just know to be even softer, to mind your words and what you talk about

♡ you’ll leave him for a quick minute, planting a kiss on his head before going downstairs to make him a hot drink, telling the other guys to not bug him today to which they all just nod and get going with their days… when you go back to the room with a hot drink encased inside of some random white mug with a chipping picture of the norwegian flag printed across the front, pelle will mumble a nearly silent “ thank you ” as you place it on the floor beside him, you know it’s just one of those things for him, he obviously doesn’t have a comfort food but a hot drink is that for him

୨୧ the best thing to do is just sit on the bed next to him, looking at him with soft eyes and asking him questions about other things, getting simple head movements or mumbled responses back! ask him about things like his art or maybe new lyrics, that will perk him up a bit and distract his mind, even if just for a minute

“ hm? i made a new drawing yesterday… it’s up on the desk… if you want to see it… ” ( when you do get up to go and look at his drawing sitting atop the messy desk, his head will lift from the pillow to watch you, admiring your beauty with slightly watery eyes, not enough to cry but the emotion is there, he just doesn’t understand why you put up with him! but when you start walking back towards the bed with the drawing in hand, he’s quick to put his head back down so that you don’t see his glistening eyes )

♡ asking him about the drawing is a good comfort move, he likes talking about his art to you and it helps distract him, offering to buy him some new pencils or anything like that will make him smile just a tiny bit too, his hand opening and reaching for yours slightly, tightly holding your hand in his as he shakes his head, he’ll only replace his pencils when he really needs to but the fact that you offered?

୨୧ it struck him right in the heart! he already felt like you were the light of his life, one of the few people he truly loves but it’s times like that which really solidify it for him, solidify his love for you no matter how much he might be shy about showing it

♡ sometimes some days are just worse for pelle, sometimes all he does is sit in near complete silence for the whole day but with you by his side, gently rubbing your hand up and down his arm or playing with his hair, it makes his day just that bit better…

୨୧ just having you lay on your back next to him on your shared bed, both of you staring up at the painted ceiling with you making most of the conversation in between a comfortable silence, it makes the noise in his mind go quiet, thoughts of pain and harm transforming from loud yells to silent screams, the fog in his mind clearing as you talk to him about the things he actually likes in life

♡ at some point of you laying next to him, without even looking or moving his eyes at all, he’ll reach his hand over to yours and take it into his, the pads of his fingers tapping softly against your knuckles as you crack a smile, letting him take things at his own pace but lifting your head up and leaning over to place a loving kiss on his pale cheek which is quickly enveloped by a rosy blush before he tilts his head towards yours and leans over to you, rubbing his bigger nose against yours in an eskimo kiss which only makes you smile harder

୨୧ with his mind quiet and heart beating deeply in his chest, he’ll lay his head atop your chest, feeling your heart beating against his ear and your fingers brushing through his hair, your quiet voice whispering words of love down to him as the combinations of softness lull him into a peaceful sleep for just a couple hours but both of you treasure those hours of serenity

♡ you are his comfort, not just the acts of comfort you offer him, never just the words of love you whisper to him, just you as a whole… you are all the comfort he needs in his life <3

#requested ✩#pelle ohlin x reader #dead x reader #mayhem x reader #mayhem headcanons #lords of chaos x reader #lords of chaos headcanons #loc x reader #loc headcanons #comfort headcanons #headcanons

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vhagarlovebot · 2 years

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UNLUCKY FAITH.

♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairings: prince aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

summary: did aemond targaryen ever love you?

content contains: this is pure angst with no happy ending, if you’re not comfortable with it i suggest you not to read. aemond being a piece of shit.

note: i’m a real whore for angst and i couldn’t leave babygirl aemond out of it. if there are any mistakes i apologize but as some of you may know english is not my first language. hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

YOU NEVER THOUGHT aemond targaryen would break your heart, how silly you were.

the moment you felt your heart being crushed was during dinner. you knew something was happening the minute you entered the room and were met with a familiar face. you did not knew her name but have seen her face before. this was a family dinner. a private family dinner, and she was standing next to the prince, a nervous smile on her face.

aemond paid you no mind when you walked past them, just the girl who bowed at you.

jacaerys, your older brother, had grab your arm, leading you to a secluded corner. his eyes were full of worry. “aemond is marrying lady ellyn baratheon.”

your world fell apart in that moment. and if it had not been for your brother’s hold on you, you would have dropped to your knees.

you knew aemond would ask for your hand, you have talked about that just hours before while his head rested on your lap, your fingers caressing his face.

later that night when you went to his chambers to demand an explanation, the doors remained closed. no matter how loud you screamed and cried, he never opened them. not even the day after that, or the next.

and no one knew what was happening. your relationship was never a secret to your family, even though you two tried very hard to hide it from them. so it was a shock when he announced his wish to marry the baratheon girl. his own mother had demanded an explanation for his sudden decision, but aemond never granted her or anyone with one.

the days where you’d walk through the gardens holding his arm, talking about the future and how far would you fly with your dragons if you could, turned into cloudy days spent in your chambers crying. the beautiful moments you two once shared turned into memories impossible to forget.

aemond not once tried to visit or talk to you, even when your absence was evident. the girl he loved so much turned into a mere inconvenience easy to be removed. was that always his plan? were any of the things he said true?

when your mother came to you with the option to go back to dragonstone, you tried to talk with aemond one last time.

you waited for him in the dragonpit for hours, until the night came and he descended from his dragon.

he was really surprised to see you for a moment, before his expression changed to a hard disgusted one. “you should not be here at this hour, princess.” he nodded, not meeting your eyes and simply walking past you.

“did you ever love me?” your voice came more weaker and raspy than you intended.

aemond stopped immediately and your heart, hammering against your chest, held onto a flame of hope.

but the second he turned around, clench jaw and eye devoid of any emotion, you knew it was all over.

“i do not wish for gossip to reach the ears of my wife-to-be and stir up unnecessary trouble.” and just like that the flame of hope died down. “it is improper for a princess to be wandering around this late unescorted.” and just with a nod he ended the conversation.

you were left behind bloodied and bruised, the pieces of your heart at your feet.

hugging yourself you fell to the ground, tears streaming down your face while you tried to comprehend how the man that once killed a man for you, the man that used to profess his undying love for you, is now incapable to look you in the eyes.

the following morning you were found by the dragonkeepers, almost passed out due to the cold, being taken to your chambers immediately.

when you woke up, you wished for it to be a bad dream. but the faces of your family, full of pity and worry, told you otherwise.

that same night you accepted your mother’s suggestion, flying on dragon’s back at sunrise. leaving behind once loving and happy memories, hoping time would make the pain fade away.

you did not heard from aemond targaryen until two years later when a letter came from king’s landing, and all those memories you tried to bury away came flooding back to haunt you.

after you watched the unopened letter burn, you never heard from aemond targaryen again.

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #prince aemond x reader #aemond fic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen scenarios #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #ewan mitchell

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mudandmire · 15 days

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Day Two: Childhood/Legacy

❤️‍🔥What is this? Why is this? I dunno folks; poem or blurb or 1am ramble, it is here so. voila. It's very short, but I wanted to do at least something for @erisweekofficial day 2, and this is all I could do with my schedule right now❤️‍🔥

To Ache

Eris pauses at the door of his mother's chambers, fingers lightly curled around the handle. There's a bleeding stain of tea cooling against his trousers, but his eyes are glazed as they wash over it as he waits for—something.

The yearning blooms open, an internal bruise that never heals right. Like a bone set wrong, forever forced to mold himself, body and soul, around it.

The air in his lungs is held still, anticipating whatever had frozen his movements, that aching contusion that stretches along the tender muscle of his heart—

'Eris.'

It's soft, ringing slightly, and Eris' body flushes cold and hot in the span of a rapid heartbeat.

He listens for it again, breath held. When nothing follows, he realizes with a clench of his fist around the handle, the rush of his pulse sounds a lot like a whisper in the silent room.

Whatever rises to the back of his throat at the chasm of distance between where the Lady of Autumn sits outside, admiring the jeweled canopy and where Eris stands frozen to the floor, he swallows down. It's a lump in his throat, a cry on his tongue—it is juvenile, and foolish, yet he cannot help his heart from begging.

Please, he wishes to himself silently, head bowed in front of the door. Please turn around. Please look at me.

Eris listens for the rustle of fabric from her dress, the soft inhale she would take at seeing him still standing there.

Please. His pulse is a white water rush in his head, near drowning in his longing.

Please let me bury my hands in your skirts, even though they are far too calloused to be a child's.

Please let me wail into your lap, even though it is something far too bloody to have ever been innocent.

Please, amma, he thinks to himself, the breath he loses grip of coming out a silent sob, let me weep.

It is childish to wish anyone heard him. But in this room something makes him wish it anyway.

Eris inhales deeply, steadily. Leaving the naive breaks in his armor at his feet as he levels his chin, like the tea cup he shattered not moments ago. His fingers close with practiced determination around the handle, and turns it.

His walk out of the room; with it's draped fabric and sunlit balcony, can only be purposeful. The door closes softly, a whispered sigh behind him. Eris does not think about his abandoned heart, its twists of anguish left in his child-sized palms. It would do him no good to linger on such ancient hurts.

Instead, Eris will settle for the memory of a chipped tea cup, a secret smile tucked into the rosy corners of cheeks, and the silken fall of copper hair the same shade as his.

ahh yes how sweet the tragedy of Eris and his Mother. I call her Seraphina in my head, because I just need girlie to have a name.

Honestly I had made the mood board thing months ago so it's nice I have a chance to use it now :>

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #erisweek2024 #beggin' your pardon i've got no clue what this is #i need to dissect their relationship though how absolutely intriguing and sad 🫠

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bullet-prooflove · 2 years

Text

The Missing Piece - Luke Alvez x Reader

Tagging: @celilice1 @kabloswrld @whoreforhondo @cosmic-psychickitty @misscharlielulu @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @anime-weeb-4-life @rosaliedepp @storiesofsvu @desert-fern @sendmylcve

The image on the whiteboard was from your Washington Metro Homicide I.D. They told you not to smile for those pictures, but you had anyway. You had a rebellious streak in you, one Luke that loved, one that always kept him on his toes. One that he hoped was going to keep you alive.

He thought of the last time he saw you, humming in his kitchen wearing nothing but his t-shirt. He remembered that mischievous look in your eyes as you leaned back against the counter, that fabric riding up. His fingertips had trailed along the hem as he said, “come back to bed.”

“Luke.” Penelope’s voice pierced his thoughts. His arms were folded over his chest as he leaned against the conference room table, his gaze fixed on the white board as he took in the pictures from the crime scene.

Crime Scene…

Your apartment…

You had been packing up the last of your stuff for the move to his place. There had been a couple of things that you needed to donate; you were planning to drop them off before you headed into work later on. From what he could see, you’d barely gotten started when it happened.

It had come as a surprise; a blitz attack he thought. There had no signs of forced entry, you had known your attacker. There was blood on the tiles in the kitchen, a dark and vivid stain creeping across the floor. They were still waiting for DNA testing to come back but Luke thought it was probably yours. Your sidearm remained on the kitchen table, alongside your cell phone. It was still playing Missy Higgins when they found it.

“Luke.” Penelope tried again, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be looking at this.”

He inclined his head in her direction, his jaw clenched, lips pursed together grimly before his gaze returned to the whiteboard.

“I have to. I have to do something.” He said gruffly before rubbing a plam over the back of his neck. “You know I keep going over it. I remember kissing her goodbye, but I don’t remember if I told her that I loved her, I was in a hurry…”

That entire day he had been in a hurry. He wished he’d slowed down, taken the time with you. It had been rushed, frantic, the two of you against the clock.

“I asked her to marry me.” He told Penelope quietly. “She just started wearing the ring. We were making plans…”

There was a desperation in his voice. He remembered last night, your feet in his lap as the two of you discussed potential venues. He’d wanted to get married in the fall, he loved the colours and crispness of the season, and you didn’t do churches. The two of you were moving forward, planning a future.

“What if this is it?” He asked Penelope, his eyes meeting hers. “The things we see… My mind won’t stop going to those places, all the horrible things that could be happening to her. I keep asking myself, is she hurt? Is she dead?” He put his hand over his heart, feeling the thrum of it underneath his fingers. You were a part of him, the missing puzzle piece that completed his life. “I’d know if she was dead right? I’d feel it?”

He was unravelling. All of that agony, the terror, it emitted from him like a beacon. Luke Alvez could adapt to one hundred and one different situations, but this was not one of them. His eyes stung as Penelope wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He clung to her; she was a lighthouse in the middle of the fog. He knew he was too close to this, that he couldn’t see beyond the photographs on the board, the possibilities that ran through his head like a scrap book of sick images.

“We’ll find her Luke.” Penelope said with conviction, rubbing circles on his back soothingly. “I promise you we’ll find her.”

Love Luke? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#luke alvez x you #luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez imagine

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feferipeixes · 1 year

Text

One of Us

Happy nine years of TAU.

(AO3 link)

===

"Do you ever think about what it would be like to be forgotten?"

There's a demon in the middle of the room, just like always. He's sitting cross legged a few feet off the floor, and there's something grotesque and nightmarish curled up in his lap. He called it a sheep when he first showed up, and he's been petting ever since, but at that question his hand stays.

"What?"

The man gulps. It took a lot of courage for him to go through with summoning a demon once he'd decided to do it, and it had clearly taken a toll on him. Sweat pours down his face as he paces in the abandoned used car showroom.

"I don't know why I'm asking you this," he says, half laughing at himself. He runs a hand through his hair -- what little of it is left.

Alcor stares. It begins to feel like the demon is looking through him.

"My wife is dead." The man closes his eyes, frowning. "It happened two years ago. She was everything to me. At her funeral I told a crowd of people that my memories of her life were my greatest treasure. I… I was wrong."

Later, Alcor walks through the empty halls of the Mystery Shack. Many of the wall photos have fallen down in past years, and for a while he was too tired or too upset to pick them up.

His summoner's words echo in his ears, and he snaps his fingers to make a photo frame shoot up into his hands.

"I can't remember her face anymore. I saw it every day for thirty years. When I woke up in the morning I was so happy to see her, no matter how bad my dreams were, no matter what awful things I knew I had to do that day. Just seeing her helped me. But now she's gone. And there's nothing left. Not even a memory."

It's a photo of a brown haired woman, her arms wrapped around the neck of a young man he recognizes as himself. Mabel's face was twisted in delight, no doubt ribbing him about something dumb he'd done. If he focuses, he can still hear that laughter in the Shack.

"I have a disorder that makes me forget things. I… don't know what it's called. Forgot that too." The man's fist clenches, so tightly that the veins bulge out on his arm. "Can you believe that? My soulmate, gone from my mind after just two years? She might as well have never existed at all."

Alcor makes his way to the roof of the Shack and sits facing the totem pole -- or at least, where it used to be. It had fallen down a couple of decades back when a car hit it. That sort of thing happened every few years, but eventually he got tired of moving it upright again.

He thinks of the time he sat right where he was and threw pinecones at a target taped to the pole. He'd thought he was in love with that red haired girl Wendy, back before he knew that romance wasn't for him. It still killed him when he found her blue and floating in that subway station.

His stomach growls at the thought.

"I think…" The man swallows -- hard. He sits down on the hood of a car and it groans beneath his weight. "If that's the fate of the most important person in my life, then that's what I deserve too."

Alcor remembers pulling his name out of newspapers, out of books detailing the Transcendence, out of the minds of people who got too snoopy when it came to the strange lights and noises that came out of the Mystery Shack at night. Gradually, Dipper Pines began to die, and more and more people chanted his new name in buildings and forests worldwide.

It wasn't a fate he wished on anyone.

The man's forehead creases. "I don't know why I expected you to understand. For Pete's sake you’re a demon. You want to be worshiped and stuff. Well, not me. I want the world to forget my name."

“You don't.”

The summoner jolts, as if he'd forgotten he was actually talking to someone and not just monologuing. A swell of derision crosses his face. “Y-Yes I do. I've thought about it a lot. I can accept the consequences.”

“No,” Alcor can remember saying, and he feels like an idiot for doing so; he wants to go back and just let the deal happen as planned, so that he could put the whole thing out of his mind just a tiny bit sooner. “You've accepted the consequences, but you don't want this. I know what you really want. You're just too afraid of the price to ask.”

“I…” The man gulps, and stumbles back. “That's not true. It hurts to think about being remembered when she isn't. I would feel so much better to live out the rest of my life alone except for her.”

The apple tree in the backyard is beginning to droop. It stopped producing fresh fruit regularly hundreds of years ago. He doesn't expect to see one today, either, but to his surprise there's a glistening red orb right at the tip of a spindly branch. When Alcor picks it up, he notices that the other side is charred. It breaks apart in his hand, scattering in the wind like dust. He'd accepted the consequences long ago.

It’s time to go.

“This request doesn't accomplish that at all.” The demon stands up, and the sheep-like thing just floats there as if nothing had happened. “You want the memory back. You want her back in your mind. I'm not in the mood to be lied to.”

“I’m not lying…”

“What, then, do you want to give up? Really?” Alcor spits. Something is bubbling up in his stomach. It feels as though someone else is speaking in his voice. “Something bad happened to you and you’re just going to stay in it forever? Because it’s too late? Because doing something to feel better would be too hard and too likely to fail? Bullshit! You wouldn’t be summoning a demon, then!”

“I’m not lying!” It’s the first time the man’s raised his voice -- a frequent eventuality when it comes to summoners, and yet it manages to take Alcor by surprise. “Of course I’ve entertained that thought! You- I thought you were supposed to be all knowing! Did you just come here to insult me?”

Alcor stares, dumbfounded, as the man paces, waving his arms with a newfound vigor. He wants to yell back that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, that the pain he’s seen eclipses anything a human mind could ever even conceptualize. But there’s a hand covering his mouth. It’s not the year 2012, and this isn’t Gravity Falls. He’s standing in a dark room, and around him, words echo like pinpricks of light.

“Her memories for mine. I thought that would be a fair bargain, at first. But then I thought it would be worse, to sit and age with the picture of what I could still have just out of reach. You wouldn’t get it. You would never understand what it’s like to grieve.”

There’s a hole in the floor -- a new one with every step the man takes. The tile cracks and shudders, then plunges into the deep. The room quakes with anger, with drawn out years of wasted potential. Soon both man and demon are tumbling through open air, in wait of the ground that meets them.

“To know the love in my heart, to feel its shadow… I can’t stand it. I don’t want to subject anyone else to that either. That’s why I want to be forgotten. So we can all once again live in the present.”

Alcor breathes out, and takes his hand.

---

There’s a woman in the kitchen when they arrive. She looks up at the sound of shoes on carpet, and momentary surprise is replaced by a warm smile.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” she says. The man does not answer.

There’s a protracted silence, in which stares battle for prominence over ignorance. Alcor looks around. He sees eggs in a frying pan and bread in the toaster. He sees shoes by the entry, one pair two pair three. He sees photos hung on the wall with care, later tilted by the settling of time.

“You’re not dead,” he says, although it is already obvious.

The man, his summoner, leaves the room without a word.

“I’m not,” the woman says. “I’m sorry, Alcor. I’ve been expecting you. He told me you’d be coming.”

“He did?” Alcor scans the home between blinks. It’s well lived in. A living room room with bowling trophies on the mantle and pillows on the sofa with cross stitched designs on them. A library full of books, some of which he’d never seen before, almost all of which have traces of human skin on the pages, and words digested by thought. A bedroom with a queen sized bed, two fully stocked closets, a drawer full of love letters, a bathroom full of stains.

One more bedroom, one with a twin sized bed never slept in, an empty closet, and brightly coloured paint peeling from the walls. Alcor begins to piece together what happened here.

“He isn’t really aware of me,” the woman explains, when they’re both seated, cups of tea in hand. “We talk all the time, but he doesn’t hear me. We live side by side but to him he’s alone. I hear how he misses me. I miss him too.”

“He told me he’d rather be forgotten,” Alcor says. “That’s what he said. I wasn’t expecting it. It’s ironic.”

She leans back in her chair, and closes her eyes for a moment. “I’d heard him… talking about it. I can’t pretend it didn’t sting. But then I realized that he wasn’t trying to cut me out of his life. He was telling me he loves me, in the only way he can, now.”

“How… so?” He knows the answer, but he needs to hear her say it.

“After it happened, I struggled to stay in one piece. It was so overwhelming. Every day, the littlest things made me feel like someone was prying me open. I wanted to forget. If he’d never been in my life, then there’d be nothing to have lost. And when I thought about it, I realized that it hurt just as much to think about the loss he was experiencing, of me.”

Alcor understands, and he puts his teacup down. “I felt that way too. When you grieve, everyone grieves with you. It feels kinder to snuff it out.”

His hand is trembling. The woman takes it, and holds it steady against the table. Long blackened claws spill over wrinkled and liver-spotted flesh. They fumble, then ease into the melody.

“Tis better to have loved,” she says, softly. “That’s what they say.”

They sit there like that, and the Sun begins to set. It's not fair, how right she is. It's not fair because that this had to happen or that she had to say that stuff, because he'd been trying for a long time not to think about it. A part of him wonders if he could've gone two, three, maybe even four hundred more years without having to accept it. Even as he thinks that, he's frustratingly aware that it's something that gets harder the longer you pretend it isn't real.

Alcor drinks the rest of his tea -- it’s cold, but it’s better than nothing.

“Thank you for not taking his soul,” she says, when they get up from the table. “I did my research on you. I figured I at least had a chance. It’s selfish, but I want to keep it, here with me.”

He knows. It’s been a long time, but he knows. He could’ve taken that man’s truth straight from his chest -- chomped down and let it shatter. The rush he could’ve had, that blinding, temporary rush when reducing person to object and pulling it apart stitch-by-stich. It’s harder, what he’s done. He feels like he’s going to be sick.

“I don’t want you to have to leave empty handed,” she continues, perhaps noticing the rolling twister about to erupt from the monster’s maw. “Please, take this.”

He looks at her, trying to hold back tears that can’t be explained, fighting with himself to keep that box closed because once that grief is acknowledged, there’s no way back. There’s no escaping it. It becomes real, it becomes heavy, and only then can you heal.

He looks at her, and in her hand there is an apple.

---

Alcor appears, unbidden, in someone’s home. This one is much smaller, much quieter. Very little love has graced its walls. It’s the kind of house you walk past and feel a slight chill from. It’s the kind of place you avoid on instinct.

There’s a young man, sitting at his desk. He’s fiddling with something -- a glue stick. Open in front of him is a large scrapbook, covered in construction paper and glitter and drawings. To his side is a stack of newspapers, a clipping from which the young man is trying to wrangle.

Alcor’s name appears three times in the print, not that anyone would know it. It’s so worn out -- the name, that is, not the paper to which it’s bound -- that you’d really have to be looking for it to be able to find it. And maybe that’s no way to live. Maybe it hurts to miss what you could’ve had, but maybe it hurts more to forget.

“Hi Mizar,” Alcor says, and the young man jumps, not having realized he had company.

“Wh- what’s going on?” he stammers, backing against the wall, and even though he’s scared, his voice and his gait are so familiar, so comforting. Alcor takes that comfort. It’s better than nothing. “Who are you?”

Alcor smiles, and every lightbulb in the house explodes together. “I’m your brother.”

(AO3 link)

#gravity falls #transcendence au #alcor the dreambender #fic #my stuff #tauathon

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edupunkn00b · 1 year

Text

Meus ex Machina, Ch. 1: Machina

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Machina - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Rated: T - CW: discussions of past major injury -

2105, New Boston, United States of the Atlantic

“So, what’s your plan?”

Janus turned his body slightly toward Machina but kept his posture open and unguarded. Despite the logs crackling in the fireplace, his words left behind a little puff of steam in the drafty cabin. “I take it by the mech—and the fact you’re hiding in the woods—that you’ve probably burned some bridges at the University.”

“Abracadabra did the burning. I just—” Machina looked away, jaw trembling.

“Stole a mech from your old lab?” Janus raised an eyebrow at Machina’s surprised expression and tilted his chin toward the ironfilm frame. “I was there when your former employer donated the mechs to your former school.” He pointed to a small marking by the left boot. “You're wearing one of the originals.”

“So,” Janus dragged over a small chair and turned it to face Machina. He sat down, crossing one leg over the other and leaning with one elbow tucked behind him on the backrest. “What’s your plan?” He gestured around them. “Do you have a black market connection for food and provisions? What will you do when your firewood runs out? What about when winter's over? The sign at the head of the trail says this building is due for demolition this summer so they can build a children’s park here.”

Machina was silent.

“You could probably survive here for…” Janus looked around the musty room. “A few weeks, maybe? You could go dumpster diving at night if the University cafeteria doesn’t keep the bins inside to guard from animals.” He narrowed his eyes and let the silence sit between them for several minutes. “You should know, though…" Machina's eyes flicked toward him. "You have other options.”

“Like what?" Machina snapped, glaring down at him. "Surrendering to you?”

Janus remained still, one hand dangling by his side, the other resting in his lap.

Machina stomped backwards. “I’m not going anywhere with you. You think I’ll leave here just so you can take me into custody?”

“I am not interested in what laws you may or may not have broken. I am here because of what you did at the distribution center.”

“I had no idea about the nerve gas—” Machina moved further away, holding up his arms defensively.

“I’m not talking about the riot gas, Machina,” Janus said quietly. “I’m not talking about anything that happened yesterday.”

Machina stopped moving and stared.

“I’m talking about when you saved those people. The day you were hurt.”

Tears welled in his eyes and he clenched his jaw. “I do not wish to talk about that.”

“I know.” Janus set both feet on the ground and leaned forward. “But we need to.” Machina turned from him but he didn’t speak. “I remember you. I remember that day. You came up to the fourth floor to see Ondas. I checked the logs. I know it was you. Why?” He softened his voice. “Why were you there?”

Machina wouldn’t look at him. “She called me to her office.”

“So I gathered. But why?”

He didn’t answer.

Janus stood but kept his hands still by his sides. “Was it because of your health and safety report on the Picker Bot that ended up going berserk?”

Machina nodded once. “Ondas told me my supervisor was fired for letting me file that report.”

“He was.” Janus stepped closer. “It’s what they do.” He took another step. “Abracadabra is going to try to cover up what happened yesterday, as well. And not just the anti-riot measures. If they get their hands on you—”

“What do you expect me to do about it? I’m a crippled, unemployed, unemployable Powerless,” he spat the word like the epithet it was.

“I want you to come work on our team, Logan.”

“What?”

“I know your hearing isn’t damaged,” Janus smirked lightly at him, stepping closer when he didn’t object to the use of his first name. “I checked your records.”

“I’m a criminal.” He banged his ironfilm hands against his chest and winced. “A thief. A—a—a murderer.” Tears started to fall down his cheeks. “If you hadn’t’ve stopped me, I—”

“Attempted murderer, perhaps,” Janus said quietly. He now stood directly in front of Logan, close enough to touch. He smiled up at him, finally capturing his gaze.

“You’ll fit right in.”

Machina and Janus hiked in silence for most of the six mile journey back to the Mad Lads' HQ. About a mile into the journey, they nearly stumbled right into a pair of teenagers smoking Blist.

“This journey is tricky enough with my powers, Logan,” he muttered once he’d fought past Machina’s suppression coils to seed a touch of paranoia in the teens’ minds. Giggling nervously, they’d taken off, headed closer to the trails. And away from the path to HQ.

“If you would allow me the use of my suit’s proximity alarms—”

“No,” Janus snapped. “Out of the question. Your mech would’ve been caught on at least a hundred cameras and sensors when you attacked the DC.” He tromped alongside Machina’s lumbering mechanical walk. “You’ll be picked up in an instant and they’ll take me with you.” Brow furrowed, he frowned up at him. “And if I’m forced to choose between you and all of HQ, one guess which way I’ll go.”

It was an idle threat and they both knew it. Or at least Janus thought they both knew. With the damned dampening coil, he had no way to know for sure what was going on in that head. With his luck, Machina had brain damage with his other injuries and was scheming to—

Stop. He took a deep breath. Machina had had dozens of opportunities to harm him and the rest of the Mad Lads during the rescue mission at the distribution center. In fact, he could have fled the moment he’d discovered what that button did. Instead, he’d remained and worked alongside them to tear open that death trap and save his—former—coworkers.

They walked in silence. True, full silence, no other thoughts or impressions, just the chirps and chitters of the last remaining songbirds and pigeons, and the faint rustle of invasive rats in the underbrush.

They were more than half-way there when Machina’s servos began to whine. Not loudly enough to make detection a concern, but enough that he reached over his shoulder and flipped open a solar panel on his back. His eyes darted away when he noticed Janus watching. “I was unprepared for a long journey on foot,” he said, voice cracking. Despite the winter weather, he was sweating in the durasteel suit.

“It seems as though you were prepared,” Janus offered with a pointed look at the solar panel. “You’ve brought provisions for yourself. Speaking of,” he murmured and stopped to open the satchel at his side. He retrieved two reusable plasteel bottles and offered one to Machina.

Machina eyed the cap and then the large hands of his suit. Without comment, Janus opened the bottle and passed it to him before opening his own and taking a long drink.

“Thank you,” he said, sipping carefully.

Janus drank a little more then capped his bottle and put it away. “Are you hungry? I have energy gels. They're meant to be banana flavored, but those haven’t been around in so long no-one knows if they hit the mark or not,” he said with a little shrug. “They do the job.”

He shook his head. “I’m alright. The benefit of lower muscle mass.” He wiggled one mechanical arm, the tiny hand movement required to work the controller in his suit hidden beneath layers of durasteel and plastifilm.

“Indeed.” He huffed out half a laugh and popped a neon yellow-colored gel drop in his mouth and waited for Machina to drink his fill before capping his bottle and resuming their hike.

A low, musical trill announced the outer perimeter proximity alarms had been triggered. Virgil frowned and moved to the flashing screen. “Janus would’ve checked in before he hit the first ring. Princey?” He looked over his shoulder when the cameras were slow to load.

Roman closed his eyes, concentrating. “I can’t hear him. Well, neither of them. They could still be too far away?” His ordinarily confident voice trilled up, turning his statement into a question.

The screen resolved and Virgil swore. “They’ve hit the second perimeter already. Something’s wrong.”

“What?” Roman rushed over and peered over his shoulder at the screen.

“What’s up, Kiddos?” Patton said, muting the alarms. “I was downstairs with—”

Roman whipped around, eyes wide. “Is he—”

“He’s fine. Improved,” Patton nodded, squeezing Roman’s shoulder with a little smile. “Do we know what triggered the alarm?”

Taking a deep breath, Roman nodded and pointed at the screen. “Janus and the Powerless—”

Patton’s silently raised eyebrow was enough to interrupt him. Roman rolled his eyes. “Janus and the guy in the mech suit are back but I can’t hear either of them.”

“They’ve already crossed the second perimeter.” Virgil pointed to the screen where it had already switched over to the nearest bank of remote cameras. “Princey can always read him by now.”

Jaw clenched, Patton crossed his arms and stared at the vidfeed. “Janus doesn’t look distressed, but…” As they passed the last camera before they reached the path to HQ, Janus looked directly at the camera and waved. “Stay on alert,” he finally said. “Something’s off but if he was in danger he would’ve used that as his chance to signal.”

“Unless he’s being controlled,” Virgil muttered, zooming in on the next bank of cameras, watching their progress from afar.

“He has no powers.” Roman shook his head. “He’s just a squishy Traditional body in a tin can.”

“Well, they’ll be tired after their hike.” Patton clapped both their shoulders. “I’ll make us all something to nibble on while we get to know each other. Ro?” he asked, bumping his shoulder with a little smile. “Wanna help?”

“Is that a camera?” Logan asked, twigs cracking under heavy durasteel feet as he turned on the spot, staring suspiciously at the trees surrounding them.

“It is,” Silvertongue said calmly. “The team will have been watching our progress since we triggered the perimeter alarms a quarter mile back.”

“My sensors…” He turned his head, activating an additional monitor hidden near the collar of his suit and scanned the logs. He shook his head with a scowl. “My sensors didn’t pick up any electronics back there.”

“They wouldn’t,” Silvertongue nodded. “You and Ultraviolet will get along nicely. It was his idea to shield them.” He smirked, “‘What good’s a secret base if everyone can see your fence?’”

They broke through the last of the trees and stepped out onto a long, winding brick-lined path. At the end stood HQ.

Logan frowned at the peeling paint on the ancient, bowed slats, dusty curtains drawn shut over wooden, double-hung windows. Thick, overgrown patches of bull thistle and horsetail surrounded the property, choking the edges of the paths between the forest and a ramshackle old storage shed behind the house. Veils of Virginia creeper and wisteria crawled up the sides of it, partially obstructing the lower windows in their race toward the sun.

Even in bright daylight, the interior of the house appeared… dark. Abandoned.

“Home sweet home,” Silvertongue murmured. “Once upon a time, it had been a museum.”

“Are you certain it’s not still a museum?” He scowled at the tiny side door just visible through the trees and looked down at his suit, clearly making the same mental calculation Silvertongue had as he’d left on his mission.

“Certainly looks like it, doesn’t it?” he smiled. “It’s the childhood home of some author. The Bear knows her name, but most of her history was lost to the Purge of ‘27.” They resumed their walk, heading toward the derelict-looking side building. “He and I bought it back in the '90s when Old Boston was desperate to fund the Great Retreat.”

Logan had stopped walking, eyeing the height of the big, double doors. It looked to be a tight fit. “This way,” Silvertongue urged, waving him on gently.

He hadn’t lost his scowl. “Are you certain the floors can even handle the weight of my suit?”

“Let’s get closer,” Silvertongue smiled. “You’ll see.”

Flipping his solar panels back into their case, he lowered his helmet and faceguard. Sealed up in the mech suit, he looked just like a Picker Bot. All the more reason to avoid his own reflection.

Despite the signal of distrust, or perhaps because he was now so shielded, Logan followed Silvertongue's lead, the dull thunking steps of his mech suit the only sound between them.

They drew closer and, after a few more paces, Machina gasped when the ramshackle wooden house dissolved, replaced by a gleaming, very modern edifice. Polished durasteel walls stretched up between the trees, all curves and sleek angles. “What?” he spat, stepping closer. He flipped back his helmet and faceplate, craning his neck to stare up at the five-story silver durasteel building. “How?” he demanded, meeting Silvertongue’s eyes.

“The Prince,” he smiled. “The one in the red suit you ran from at the DC. He’s… powerful.” Silvertongue peeled off one glove and placed it against the wall. “By now he’ll realize your esper blocker is interfering with his Illusion. I’m going to have to insist you—”

“Turn the fucking machine off or I will!” A layered voice boomed through a hidden speaker. “Silvertongue’s shoes are rubber. Yours aren’t.” Electricity crackled through the air. “How many volts can that rusty bucket take before you fry, too?”

“V… Stand down,” Silvertongue said quietly, holding Machina’s gaze. The electricity abruptly stopped but he didn’t look away. “Logan, we need Prince's Illusions to stay safe. You’re one of us now. Drop the Esper field.”

With a sigh, Machina worked his controls and the old clapboard house returned to their view. “Thank you,” Silvertongue nodded. “Please.” He pressed the wall again and half of it disappeared, the illusion fizzling on the edges as the doorframe expanded to fill the gap. Warm air kissed their faces, and the brushed durasteel floor gleamed invitingly.

“Welcome to HQ.”

@sandersidesbigbang

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raybyanothername · 5 months

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Got a comment on Trembling Eyes about Jace taking his "pervy uncle" to Dragonstone. I immediately had to write about Rhaenyra finding out. ^^" Not technically a sequel, and I kept the ages ambiguous, but I tagged implied underage on Ao3 just in case.

So... without further ado.

pertinent

She'd given Aegon permission to live his life as he saw fit. Go where he wanted, do what he wished. After their father's death and their - thankfully short - marriage, Rhaenyra had decided she would turn a blind eye to his life choices. Just her father had done for his brother when she was a child.

It had been a kindness. A charity, given his hedonistic tendencies and his... notoriety, in certain circles, regarding his preferences.

Especially after all the time he'd been trapped on Dragonstone without an outlet. Constantly fighting with her eldest son as Jacaerys worked through his grief.

She'd pitied her little brother, wanted to help him. Provide him the freedom he'd been denied.

That had been a mistake.

"Uhm, this isn't what it looks like," Aegon's voice cracked. He tried to sit up when Rhaenyra burst into the room. Tried being the operative word, given his wrists were tied to the posts of the bed.

Her son's bed. With said son sitting in his lap, straddling Aegon as his bare limbs were stretched across the bed, each secured with the same leather straps.

Rhaenyra wasn't sure if she wanted Jacaerys to get up or not, to reveal whether Aegon was wearing anything. Small clothes perhaps. A pair of shorts. Literally anything!

But Jacaerys didn't get up. He stared at her, silently. Eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Blinking slowly as she exhaled.

A couple of knights in her queensguard shuffled their feet in the hallway. The one who'd sent her a raven about Aegon's arrival on Dragonstone included.

He'd been on the island a month. Her boy, her stubborn, strong boy... and Aegon. Alone. Together.

For a month.

Their wrestling matches during Aegon's previous residency on the island bubbled up in her mind. aegon was older, but Jacaerys had always been the one pinning Aegon against the ground. Or a wall. Or...

A bed. Apparently.

"I'd heard a rumor my brother had returned to Dragonstone." Rhaenyra drawled. Her arms crossed as she surveyed her son properly.

The Prince of Dragonstone. Curls mussed and clothes rumbled. The little of his tan skin she could see was free from any blemish. Any... discolorations.

And he was wearing clothes! Perhaps the only mercy in this whole situation.

"The rumor was true I see," Rhaenyra spoke slowly, gaze flicking between the two boys. She enunciated each of her words. Her chin rose expectantly, eyes narrowing.

"Yes," Jacaerys nodded, his throat bobbing, "I invited him."

Rhaenyra arched a brow, "And you didn't think to tell me? Or perhaps ask if it was appropriate for you to live, unchaperoned, with... someone of your uncle's reputation?"

He shifted, body bouncing atop Aegon just slightly. Her brother gased, lashes fluttering. Jacaerys blushed, his cheeks growing redder even as he matched her expression.

Still, Jacaerys remained where he was. Staring her down. Jaw clenched and eyes hard. He held her gaze.

"You said Dragonstone is my seat, my responsibility," Jacaerys stated simply. His voice as confident as if they were in her solar, discussing some issue she'd wanted his thoughts on. "I was not aware I needed your permission."

She swallowed back a growl. Aegon's hands wrapped around the leather holding him to the bed. Closing into fists as Rhaenyra's gaze snapped to him. Her nostrils flared and Aegon cringed.

"My uncle's reputation has no bearing on the situation," Jacaerys asserted quickly, chin rising even higher. His lips twitched. His eyes narrowed. He was nearly scowling at her. Nearly yelling.

Him! At her! Rhaenyra bit her tongue to stop the sharpest of her words. Instead, she took a breath, "I would disagree." She gestured out. "It seems quite... pertinent." Aegon whined as Jacaerys stiffened.

"Well..." Jacaerys shrugged, looking pointedly at his still open door, "It wouldn't be if you'd knocked."

#house of the dragon #hotd #ray writes #fanfiction #asoiaf #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon

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laurajean92 · 1 year

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Nick and Noah - Continued

I brought the car to a stop and threw my arms up in the air... “Woo! That was so much fun!”

Nick chuckled... “I’m glad you had fun.”

“I love racing. I just wish I could be with you on race night.”

He smiled at me sympathetically and stroked his fingers through my hair... “I know you do, babe, but you know the reason why you can’t be.”

I nodded... “When you do eventually knock Ronnie’s team out, then can I start going again?”

He nodded... “But I won’t be letting you out of my sight, even then, unless you’re driving.”

I smiled at him warmly and leaned in to kiss him, moaning into his mouth as I melted against him as he cupped my cheeks. Blindly unfastening my seatbelt, I moved and climbed into his lap, stroking my fingers through his hair as we continued to kiss, grinding against him as he began to kiss his way down my neck to the top of my school shirt, his fingers fiddling with the buttons... “There’s not enough room to do that in here... but, we are alone.”

He furrowed his eyebrows... “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

I smirked and shrugged... “Maybe.”

...

Noah moved back to the driver’s seat and climbed out of the car. Watching her go, she moved around to the front of the car and began to unbutton her shirt. Climbing out of the car too, I grabbed her and span her around, pinning her between the body and the car and pulled her shirt off, groaning as I was met with her black lace bra. Bringing my hands down from her shoulders, I stroked my hands over her breasts, smirking as she tipped her head back and pressed my lips to her neck, sliding my hands down to her waist to hold her tight as I dragged my tongue up her neck to her jaw and bit down gently before moving down again, pressing my lips to the top of her breast before sliding my tongue over her skin, groaning against her skin as I tasted her. Pulling back, I watched as she pushed down her skirt too, leaving her clad in her matching black lace bra and panties...

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

She smiled at me warmly. Moving back over to her, I ran my fingers gently over the scar on her stomach... “Nick.”

“It’s okay, Precious.”

…

I watched as Nick sank to his knees before me and I closed my eyes as he pressed his lips to my scar before looking up at me. Nodding at his unspoken question, I helped him rid me of my panties and leaned back against the car, biting my lip as he lifted one of my legs onto his shoulder and dragged his tongue through my folds before gently sucking on my clit... “Oh, fuck, Nick.”

He groaned, the sound vibrating against my sex, and I moaned and whimpered as he continued to pleasure me, my walls clenching him as he slowly pushed two fingers inside of me...

“Fuck, I love the way you clench around me.”

I whimpered and rocked my hips against his face... “Nick, please. Make me cum.”

He removed his fingers and went back to the assault on me with his mouth and I fell moments later, clamping my hand over my mouth as I fought the urge to scream...

…

I rose to my feet and looked at Noah, her skin pink with the chill of the early evening air, her nipples erect, hidden behind her bra, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Leaning in, I brushed my lips over hers, smirking as she cupped the back of my head, tangling her fingers in my hair as she captured my lips fully, moaning as she tasted herself on my lips and tongue...

…

Nick lifted me onto the bonnet of the car and pulled me into position, holding my hips at the edge as he guided himself inside of me, my head falling back as he filled me completely... “God, you feel good.”

I smiled at him warmly as I wrapped an arm around his neck, moving with him as he began to thrust in and out of me slowly...” So do you. You’re so deep inside me.”

He groaned and buried his head into my neck, his fingers tightening on my waist, burgeoning on pain... “Fuck, Noah, you’re always so responsive to me.”

“I love what you do to me. You always make me feel so good.”

He captured my lips, gripping my chin with his hand as he pushed his tongue into my mouth as he continued to thrust in and out of me, pushing us both over the edge minutes later...

…

“We’ll be home soon.”

I sighed and glanced over at Nick as he glanced at me... “I’ve really enjoyed this.”

He smiled at me warmly and I covered his hand with mine as it rested on the gearstick... “So, have I.”

I reciprocated his smile and leaned in as he pulled up at a set of traffic lights and captured his lips...

…

“Noah!”

Noah and I stopped in our tracks as we walked into the house as her Mom walked through to the foyer...

“Hi, Mom.”

“Don’t “hi, Mom” me. Do you care to explain why I got a phone call from St. Marie’s this afternoon telling me you weren’t well, and you’d gone to the nurse’s office, but you weren’t at the nurse’s office? I've been worried sick, Noah! Where have you been?”

“With Nick.”

“And you think that’s a good enough explanation?”

“I decided to have the afternoon off school as I didn’t have any important lessons and spent the afternoon with my boyfriend.”

“All your lessons are important, Noah.”

“Mom, I missed Social Studies and Drama. That was it.”

She sighed... “Can you leave us please, Nick?”

He nodded and kissed my cheek before moving around us and making his way up the stairs...

“Outside, now!”

Glancing after Nick, I followed Mom out to the back garden...

“What has gotten into you? Your attitude towards me is terrible.”

“And so is yours towards me. Mom, you didn’t give a damn about whether or not I wanted to stay in Canada. You just shipped me out here away from my friends and the only life I've ever known, and I know you’re not happy about Nick and me, but I didn’t expect to come here and fall for my stepbrother.”

She sighed and ran her hands over her face... “I understand and agree I should’ve consulted you before I dropped the bombshell that we were moving in with my husband.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.”

“But if you and Nick is some sort of payback for that...”

“It’s not. It's real.”

“Is it? Noah, Nick is...”

“Nick was a bad boy, and maybe in some ways he still is, but he’s also a good person with a good heart. Has Will told you that he’s got a little sister? He's wonderful with her, and he loves her so much. The partying and the racing was his way of acting out when his parents split, but he got himself back on the straight and narrow.”

“But the racing is still a thing.”

“Yes, it is, and I love it. It's nice to be able to enjoy it again.”

She smiled at me weakly... “I don’t want you getting hurt again, and I'm afraid that if you keep spending time with Nick, you will.”

“Nick won’t let anyone hurt me ever again, I promise. Just give him a chance, Mom, and I'm sure you’ll be surprised.”

She exhaled... “Okay. One chance, that’s it.”

I smiled at her warmly... “Thank you.”

#nick x noah #myfault #culpamia

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ladylooch · 1 year

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Soft Thoughts Sunday- Lio & Lucie

We have four requests that are on one ask! I’m going to post them individually, then all together with the ask.

First up! Lio/Lucie- (I just love their relationship so much, I always wished I had an older brother figure in my life 😭) Lio consoling lucie either after a fight with her boyfriend or with her parents 🥰

A/N: ME TOO!!!! Let’s pick up after she gets grounded for throwing the party that Lio pretended he threw when Nico and Lexi were out of town. (He really thought that was believable?)

Lucie is sitting at the kitchen table, glowering ever so often at her dad where he sits across from her and reads a book.

“I don’t need supervision for algebra.” She mumbles.

“Mmm and yet your childish actions last weekend proved otherwise.” Nico says, flipping the page of his book. He doesn’t even look up. Lucie glowers harder. Nico pretends not to notice.

More silence ensues except for the scratching of Lucie’s pencil as she solves her problems. The noise of the garage door opening perks Lucie’s ears. Good, her mom and sisters are home to take her dad’s attention.

“We are home!” Lexi cheers, coming in and brushing her hand along Lucie’s brown hair. Lucie jerks away from her mom’s touch. Lexi crosses her eyes at her husband in annoyance and meets him with a kiss.

“Well, I’m happy to see you.” Nico says, running his hand discreetly over her butt. Lucie notices and shudders with a gag. Lexi sighs at their daughter’s obvious contempt for her parents. At least the other two still love them.

“Remember when Lucie was a baby and she went through that stage where she would only contact nap with you?” Lexi asks Nico.

“Yeah, that was tough during the season when I was on the road.” Lucie slams her book shut, grabbing her stuff and glaring at her parents.

“Some of us are trying to learn.” She huffs, then dodges her two younger sisters to go up to her room.

“I think we need to call in the reinforcement.” Nico murmurs, tugging Lexi down into his lap. She tosses an arm around his shoulder, stroking his long hair back from his face.

“Yeah, we are suffering more than her with this arrangement.”

Lucie is staring at the ceiling of her bedroom, watching the shadows of the leaves dance against the white paint. A knock sounds at her door. She doesn’t respond.

“I have gelato.” Lio’s voice calls. Lucie bounds up, tossing the door open and throwing herself into his arms. Lio has to carefully catch her, swerving the ice cream cones around her limbs.

“How are you allowed in here?”

“Your dad called me.” Lucie bites her lip in response.

“My parents are the worst.” Lio hands her the chocolate gelato before going to sit on her desk chair. Lucie curls her legs under her on the bed, looking at her cousin for his support.

“You know they aren’t, LuLu. They love you. And you scared them.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” She snaps.

“You broke every single rule. And you got caught doing it.” Lio chuckles, kicking his feet up onto the bed next to her.

“Who’s side are you on?”

“Yours. Always. But… If my mom lets me go to Canada next year, I’m not going to be here to save you from this stuff. You were scared Lu. Things could have gotten bad. You need to be careful. ”

Lucie’s heart clenches at the realization that Lio may be leaving Switzerland in a few months. But, the last thing Lucie wants is to be careful. She wants to throw that all into the wind and be who she wants to be. Not what everyone else thought Nico Hischier’s daughter should be.

“Do you ever think about what life would be like if we had different parents?”

“No.” Lio shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have you. That would suck.” Lucie considers then nods.

“But we also wouldn’t have all this shit either.”

“Luc, one day you aren’t going to live in this house anymore… maybe not even the same country as your parents either. And you’ll want all of this back.” Lio gets up, joining her on the bed and pulling her in for a hug. She hates how pensive he has gotten with his impending junior trip. Although, Lucie isn’t quite sure Auntie Em is going to come around.

“One day, you and I won’t live in the same country either…” Two tears drip down Lucie’s face as she talks. “What if we grow apart?”

“You and me? Nah. We are Lio & Lucie. Nothing is coming between us. I won’t let it.”

Lucie smiles, sitting up so she can eat the rest of her melting gelato.

#Lio & Lucie

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rogers-stevens-5555 · 2 years

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#It's not as a treatment...#When Trump asked if we could use high temperature and high lights to kill the virus #Deborah #who was also in the room #responded:#Deborah's face as Trump talked about his treatment advice #Recalling the day #Deborah said she wanted to disappear.#Birx froze #hands clenched on her lap. “I looked down at my feet and wished for two things: something to kick and for the floor to open up and swallow #Since the pandemic began #the number of people infected with COVID-19 in the United States has repeatedly exceeded worst-case predictions.#On May 21 #Popular Science reported that the death toll of COVID-19 in the United States in a single day is now around 300 #which is three times the daily death toll from car accidents in the United States.

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indouloureux · 2 years

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basically you and Joseph are good friends since being cast together on s4. he comes over to your sleeping place one day, and asks you on advice on telling a girl he's known for a while that he likes her. little does oblivious reader know that the girl is us👹. basically you give him advice (choice), and he thanks you and walks out. in legit a minute he walks back into your house and does the thing you advised him to do.

I apologize for the crappy writing, I thought this scenario up at 3 am

THIS IS REALLY FUCKING CUTE SUKSJSKSJS

when he asked if he could come over and "hang out," you don't expect him to be standing like a lost, nervous child in front of you, with his hands on his sides and head ducked low, eyes on his gently tapping feet.

"what's up?" you say, cautiously, like one wrong word and he'd snap into something preternatural.

joseph's head lifts, wide and glossed with nervousness. he offers you what is a forced smile, laughing dryly before he sits on the couch beside you, patting his sweaty palms onto the denim of his jeans. so wet that they'd grown darker than their usual color.

"so, um, i need...advice," he begins, scratching the hair behind his ear. "it's um- relationship. related."

your heart drops to your feet, shattering on the carpeted floor because it didn't need the porcelain tiles to break it's structure. like a film reel does imaginations of joseph with someone else flip like a lugubrious flashback, but you manage to put a feigned surprised smile on your face.

"oh!" you raise your eyebrows. "tell me."

"i want to, um, ask this girl out," he laughs nervously, almost too forced like he's reliving a faux pas inside his head. "she's um, i think you know her."

"well, i hope i do," you match his de rigueur smile, top teeth poking out between your two pink lips to at least show him how genuinely happy you are. and you really are. really, really fucking happy. "because then it'll be easier to know if they'll treat my friend right."

friend friend friend

fucking friend.

"hah. well, um, she's really close with us," joseph's looking at your lap, hand stops scratching the spot behind his ear to gesticulate into the air. "she's, er, really nice. very kind. humor is out of this world. i really think she's the only person who can make me laugh hard other than my dad and, well, jamie."

you bite the scream that tries to escape, maybe you're even trying not to strangle him at the mention of some different girl making him laugh harder than you do. "what else?"

"she makes these, like, pastas that taste horrible but somehow i still love it because, well, she made it," he smiles, shoulder's relaxing into a slump. "we like to— she indulges in all my food tomfoolery. she listens like, like i'm the most important person in the world and...she's the only person who can truly understand me."

you wonder what his words could break if your heart's already broken down his feet. maybe its your lungs, the way the pain tightens the passage and hinders air coming through. or your stomach and the incessant pit that's forming down there. maybe your fingers as you clench them tightly to stop yourself from harming anything.

because after all this time, you thought you'd been that person he's talking about. turns out you were just delusional — your naive self grasping onto the hope that he might have felt the same, when in reality that hope's linked to a chain that leads into a void; where you wish you could fall into than fall for him endlessly despite the pain.

"that's, that's great, jo," you swallow the thorns around your throat, clearing it off. "w-what's the advice again?"

"i wanna ask her out."

"great!" you scratch your eye, joseph watching right on the corner of your vision. "um, well, obviously you have to buy her flowers. or something that she likes, like chocolate? maybe, if she wants that. then knock on her door and ask her out because asking someone over text is just really lazy."

joseph nods, taking a huge puff of breath, the slapping of his hands on his knees snapping you out of your miserable daze. "smart. great thinking. you're really smart, love."

before you say anything, he's pressing a quick, burning kiss on your temple, the aftermath of his fire still sizzling on your skin. he stands up as well, crossing over the carpeted floor in quick strides that by the time you had registered what he's done, he's already putting his coat on.

"wait, where are you going?"

"i'm gonna ask her out."

"today?" he nods. "i thought we were gonna hang out?"

"i'm sorry but i just, really need to do this," he gives you a sad smile. you stand up from the couch, joseph spraying alcohol on his hands before he twists the doorknob. "i'll see you tomorrow, though!"

the word stutters in your mouth, useless when he disappears behind your door. the loud slam is what opens the faucet, unknown to you that there's tears already dripping down your cheeks.

you drown in the sink of self-pity, bottom lip wobbling and sniffling the snot that drips down your nose as you sob, heart broken by someone who wasn't even your boyfriend.

feet dragging across the floor, they lead you to the kitchen where you take out a pint of ice cream — pistachio, the only one you have, which is very ironic. your hands reach for the wooden handle of the kitchen drawer, taking out a spoon for you to take the sorbet into the silver cutlery and eat the dejected ice cream.

but then the door knocks, and you accidentally choke on a sob as you take your ice cream with you, mind believing that it's impossible that it's him because his urgency to leave was quite obvious he was never coming back until tomorrow.

you twist the doorknob, opening it to see him with a box of chocolates tucked between his elbow, a smile so bright like he'd just won the grandest prize of them all.

"hi, will you— are you crying?" his smile falls, lips turned into an upside down crescent of worry, hands gently placing the box on the table to place them on your shoulders. "what's wrong? is that pistachio?"

you don't answer him, feeling the heavy rock around your throat come back and push your tears through again. you let yourself cry in front of him, pint tucked to your chest that the ice melts onto your shirt along with the tears that race down to your neck.

joseph comes in, closing the door behind him as he hugs you like he doesn't expect you to cry, pushing your head to his chest and it's like he wants you to hear his steady heartbeat, each thump a soft whisper asking you to calm down. he's gently shushing, hands running through your hair like he'd always do when you're sad, or when you're asleep in his arms (as a friend.)

"it's — is it because of the date?" joseph murmurs, pushing your arms away so he'd take a better look at you. he tilts his head down to see you better, eyelashes fluttering at his rapid blinks. he's unconvinced when you shake your head. "oh love—"

"did you leave anything behind?" you place the ice cream on the side, leaving the spoon stuck in the thick dessert. tugging on your cheeks to wipe your tears away, he takes your wrists to stop you, holding it down to the space between.

"is it about the date?"

his repetition makes you finally nod your head.

"aw. babe, i— i was going to ask you out."

you blink the tears away from your lashes. "what?"

"i was going to do what you said," he takes the box into his hands. "i was going to come here, with something that you liked and ask you out. it's — it's the only way that i could think of that sounded cute."

the film reel rewinds the way your heart that's left on the carpet has risen to mend itself. but instead of jumping into his arms with dire contact, you punch his shoulder, mad at him for an irrational reason of him giving you a temporary, fake heartbreak.

"you're such a jackass. a dickhead!" he laughs, in pain, rubbing the spot on his shoulder. "you made me cry and thought it was the end of the world."

"i'm sorry," his thumbs wipe the tear stains off your cheeks. "i'm sorry, darling. never again."

joseph pulls you into his chest, head deep into his tactile touch, smiling when he kisses the top of your head. "god. i was about to strangle you when you said someone else made you laugh harder than i do."

"‘m sorry," he chuckles. "now, will you eat these chocolates and go out with me?"

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

#joseph quinn blurb #???#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn #fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction

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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years

Text

Not Your Captain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1695

Warnings: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Spoilers!!!!! Lots of Angst in this one, guys, lotta feels, some Fluff to counterbalance it, but mostly Angst, Cursing

A/N: This is Part Two to my previous FATWS writing, His Only Contact. FATWS SERIES STERLIST HERE! This one is from Reader’s perspective and gives you a bit more about Reader’s backstory. There will be multiple parts coming out in the next day or two based just on this new episode because damn. It was loaded! Due to this and my workload this past week, I haven’t been able to post the first chapter of my College!AU, Erased From the Stars, but I promise it’s coming! This’ll be my main focus for the weekend though! Expect more parts in the next 24 hours! I’ll be making a masterlist for this particular project in that time, too! Taglists are open! Please contact me if you want to be tagged! Thank you and please enjoy, loves! (Not beta’d, so sorry for mistakes!)

AGAIN: SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The moment you saw it on TV, you knew you had to get to Bucky. You weren’t planning on leaving until the next day, but there was no way you weren’t going. So you caught the first plane you could from the base you were staying at.

You’re feelings were all over the place. Steve had been your best friend for more than the past decade. You were the one there when he first woke up. You were the one to help him get situated. You were the one to help him whenever he needed, to go over to his little place in DC when he was having problems, like the time he thought he was having an asthma attack when it was an anxiety attack or when you had to help him find a new phone after he accidentally broke his.

You were that close to falling in love with him. But life went the other way and, in a weird twist of fate, almost as if the universe wanted to spare you of the heartbreak it knew would come if you gave your heart to the dashing captain, you ended up tripping over your own feet for someone else.

Someone you would never tell.

He was the last thing you had left of Steve and you couldn’t ruin that because of your stupid feelings. And you couldn’t ruin the relationship you had now because it was working. He trusted you, more than anyone else. He trusted you because Steve trusted you and you wouldn’t dare break that trust.

You just hoped, with everything going down in relation to the shield - to his legacy - that you’d be able to keep that promise you made to yourself.

You were in front of his door early in the morning - around four - hesitating to knock. It didn’t take long for him to respond the moment your fist did meet the door.

He looked…tired. You wished, oh how you wished, that you could do more. Anything more. He insisted you helped him plenty already; he claimed he never had nightmares when you were by his side. But it wasn’t enough. Not for what he’d been through. You felt as though you were merely putting a bandaid over a bullet wound.

His chocolate locks were short, above his ears. You could remember how hesitant yet eager he was about doing it. It was difficult to not cut his ear off because he kept moving in anticipation. You would know: you cut it. Those blue eyes that made you trip in the first place were outlined by thick lashes, dark ebony bags beneath them, making the azure pop. He was shirtless, as he usually was when sleeping (or at least trying to sleep), his dog tags resting against his sternum.

You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping. His eyes were bloodshot as if he was watching TV for too long and his hair was less messy than it would be if he actually slept.

The moment his eyes found yours, his plump, chapped lips turned up into the grin he reserved for you and he was pulling you in. Your reaction was instantaneous, your arms slipping around his waist, your chin resting on his shoulder as he found home in the crook of your neck.

He was touch deprived. You knew this, but you never brought it up. Especially considering you were one of the only people he touched willingly. You didn’t want him thinking he was broken, more so than he thought he was already. And you definitely didn’t want to push him into fixing himself. So you didn’t tell him, even though you were pretty sure he knew, and you just let him take the lead.

Sometimes it meant he grabbed your hand in large crowds, or tucked you under his arm when he was threatened. Other times it meant laying his head in your lap when he was tired late at night, or a soft hug in greeting.

Hands slowly tracing his spine, fingers dancing up and down his back, you gave a small smile when you felt him practically purring in your embrace. You could never decide if he was more puppy or kitten. You used to make jokes about the three of them, Steve, Bucky, and Sam, being like a puppy, kitten, and bird that you had to reluctantly pet sit for a friend. You would give almost anything to be joking around like that with them when you went to visit Bucky in Wakanda with Steve.

“Buck?”

He hummed. You didn’t want to pull back, you wanted to stay connected with him for as long as possible, but you had to talk. You didn’t want to talk about it, because that would make it more real, but you had to. You had to.

“Have you seen the news recently?”

His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pulling down. “What happened? Is it Wanda?”

You looked down the hall, your lips pressed together tightly, before nodding inside. “We have to talk.”

He nodded, stepping back and pulling you inside. Seeing the makeshift bed on the floor against the far edge of the sofa made you inwardly sigh, but you didn’t say anything about it. Steve was the same way at first.

“Is she okay? Did you find her? Where-”

“It’s not Wanda.” Turning, you faced him, trying to control your own anger at the situation, knowing it wouldn’t help him any. “It’s…it’s about Steve.”

Those spectacularly blue eyes narrowed, bottom lip being sucked in between his teeth. “What about Steve?”

You gestured for him to come closer, holding out your hand in offering. He took it and followed you as you led him to the couch. A cleared throat and a deep breath later found you gently explaining what happened to him. That the government had taken back the shield and had given it to someone else. A ‘hero just for America’. A ‘new Captain America’.

You could see his features harden with every word, his jaw ticking dangerously, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. You squeezed his hand as you finished. “He’s got meetings and stuff with senators and governors. They’re taking him on a tour this week. They-they want me to meet him, considering I’m the last of the original seven. Active on Earth, at least.”

The tears that started forming in his eyes made you swallow your own emotions down thickly. He didn’t need your hatred of this wannabe to fuel his own. He needed your support and comfort. He needed to know you’d be by his side through this.

“Are you?”

You blinked, not expecting his first words to be that question. “Am I what?”

“Going to meet with him?”

“I-I…” You stopped talking, knowing that if you continued you’d end up ranting about how he wasn’t your captain. How he could never be your captain. Debating answers, you decided on a simple, blunt reply. “No.”

“Why…”

Running your thumb over his knuckles, you leaned over slowly to press a chaste kiss to his bare skin and blood shoulder. “Take your time. Collect your thoughts.”

He responded to your words by taking a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut, his jaw so tight you feared he might chip his teeth. It was a tense minute before he said anything, the room being filled with his harsh breathing. “You said he gave them the shield.”

“What?”

“Yesterday. You told me he gave up the shield. They put it in the Smithsonian. But you just said they took it from him.”

“He did give it to them, but-”

“Why?” His eyes snapped open, his features twisting into ones of frustration and resentment. “Why’d he give it to them?”

You shook your head, knowing Sam didn’t mean for any of that to happen. He had called you a few weeks ago to ask about your opinion on the matter. You told him that Steve trusted him, and you trusted Steve, so if Sam thought that was the right thing to do…you trusted him. “It’s not Sam’s fault. Don’t be mad-”

“Don’t be mad?! Don’t be mad?!” Bucky shot up, ripping his hand away from yours, making you bite your lip and hang your head as he paced in front of you. “Steve gave it to him! And he just gives it away like he’s regifting a shitty frisbee as a Christmas present! And you don’t want me to be mad?! Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!”

Cringing at the use of your name, which you rarely hear fall from his lips, especially in vexation like just then, you looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Bucky, I get it. I do. I’m mad, too. I’m-I’m furious. But you can’t blame Sam. Please. He just - he’s trying, Buck. Just like me. Just like you. We’re all trying.”

Bucky’s shoulders fell as he stared at you, eyes darting from feature to feature as he studied your face. Before you could say anything else, he was on the floor in front of you, in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face pressed into your stomach.

You could tell he was holding something back - something big - but you wouldn’t push him. You never did. Displaying feelings was always hard for him, even in the early 1900’s; Steve used to tell you stories when you were looking for him after the fiasco in DC. Bucky grew up being the oldest of four and the only boy. On top of that, his best friend was a scrawny, stubborn, punching bag of a boy. According to Stevie, neither of them really learned how to cope or how to deal with feelings. And it showed. Boy, did it show.

Instead of getting on him and asking what was wrong and begging for him to talk to you, your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, as you sat back to make the position more comfortable for him.

“Stay with me. I need you.”

You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his head, nodding into his hair. “I’ll stay. For as long as you need me, Buckaroo.”

Taglist (OPEN):

@happygoreading, @thatsdarwinism, @satellitespidey

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i-cant-sing · 3 years

Text

Promise: Yandere Godfather Hawks x Todoroki reader

This is a side story takes place in the YRHR series, after part 1, when the reader returns home, blind.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"Y/n... Come on, wake up. Its 9 already." You heard him say, feeling the bed dip as he sat on it, gently touching the back of your shoulder. "Aren't you hungry? Mom's making your favourite."

When you gave no response, Shotou pulled the covers away from your face, his brows furrowing at the bandages around your eyes that had loosened up. You had did that, clawing at the meticulously tight knot Natsuo had done; you didn't like how it settled on your eyes.

"You're awake, right?" The only answer he got was you turning your cheek further away from him when he tried to caress it. Shotou didn't like your silence and he missed it when you used to ramble about almost anything to him. He missed when you were happy.

The door bell rang.

Shotou looked at his watch confused. Wasn't Natsuo supposed to come around at 11? He could hear Enji walking to the main door, and after a few seconds of silence, he heard footsteps coming towards your room. But then he heard some scuffling, and people talking- he recognised Enji's and Dabi's voices, his brother's getting louder by the second.

"I'll check who's there. Stay."

Stay? You would've rolled your eyes if, you know, you still had them.

A few more minutes passed and you could hear Dabi arguing with someone, and you think that Shotou is trying to calm him down. Deciding to take advantage of the situation, you got up from the bed. For the past whole month, Shotou would come to wake you up everyday, carrying you in his arms to the bathroom, never letting you walk on your own, claiming "you'll get hurt".

Idiot.

Taking one small step at a time, you stretched your arms out trying to reach the wall. Once you felt the cold, smooth surface, you used it to guide you towards the door.

No matter what you did, or how many times you told them to back off, that you can do this on your own, they wouldn't let you. Hell, you were pretty sure that if they could, they would breathe for you too. As if trying to instil in your mind that you're helpless without them, incapable of making your own decisions.

I'll show them how fucking capable I am.

After stubbing your toe only once, you finally reached the door, your hand gripping the metal knob. You placed your ear on the door, trying to figure out who and where everyone is standing. The corridor seemed empty and you think everyone is downstairs.

Opening the door, you used another wall to guide you towards the stairs. You hoped Shotou doesn't see you; he'd throw a hissy fit at you attempting to walk down the stairs.

As you took one careful step at a time, you heard the commotion grow louder. You could hear Dabi yelling profanities at the other person, certainly not Enji because Rei or Fuyumi would've stepped in by now to stop him. You used to stop him too, but ever since what happened, you don't really care anymore.

"Why the fuck are you even here?! She doesn't fucking want to see you!"

"Dabi-!"

"And who is gonna stop me? You? I'd be happy to knock you down on your ass- its about goddamn time!"

"Hawks!"

Hawks?

Hawks.

Hawks!

You almost stumbled down the last few steps, but you needed to know- was he, was he really here?

"K-Keigo?"

You heard his wings flap before you felt him, the wind gushed at your body strongly, making you lose your balance. But muscular arms wrapped around you before you could fall, and the winged hero lifted you up and spun you around, making you burst into laughter.

Rei was the first one to cry.

You laughed.

Not a bitter, sarcastic one.

A genuinely happy laugh.

And she missed her baby's laugh so much.

Dabi's eyes widened slightly. His heart clenching up a bit as he realised how he missed that beaming look on your face. He realised how fucking naive you were, how you were his little sister that he needed to protect.

Shotou felt envy. Why- why didn't you laugh like that with him? Why didn't you laugh for him? Was he... not a good brother?

Fuyumi actually rushed out of the kitchen when she heard you, her hands coming up to her mouth to suppress the sob that was building up. Too long. It had been too long since you were happy.

Natsuo smiled. He smiled as he saw you chortle when the hero's feathers tickled your cheek. He wished you would smile more often.

Enji's breath hitched as he saw you chuckle into Hawk's shoulder. It was so natural, so lively, so radiant. He had been dying to hear that sweet sound again.

Your heart was beating fast and your stomach was doing somersaults as you felt the air rushing through your hair and cooling on to your neck, the soft feathers brushing across your skin.

He really was here.

But so were they.

And you could feel their eyes on you.

Keigo frowned when he saw you curl yourself into him, as if trying to bury yourself into his chest. When he looked around, he saw them glaring and that's when he puffed out his wings before curling them around you; shielding you.

"I'll be spending time with my goddaughter. Do not disturb us." And with that, Hawks flew you up to your room, locking the door before they could sat anything. He could hear Dabi arguing, but he trusted Enji to handle him.

He set you on your bed, chuckling as you didn't let go of his collar.

"Its okay, dove. I'm here, now- ow!" You cut him off by punching his arm.

"Where were you?!"

"In your heart- ow! Stop hitting me!" He caught your wrists.

"You said you were gonna visit me at home! Its been a whole month-"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry but believe me, I really was busy!" Sighing, he continued. "The hero commission sent me to Europe for a mission and things got a bit messy, so I got caught up."

Yanking your hands out of his grip, you scowled. "Would it have killed you to call?"

"I mean I wouldn't say kill, but I probably could've lost a limb or two-" He started laughing when when you began getting up to walk to the door.

Keigo wrapped his arms around you, smiling cheekily"Y/n- I'm sorry, I'm just kidding. Come back-"

"No, let go! I don't have time for your bullshit" He continued laughing, easily picking you up and dropping you back on your bed.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Come on, now. Stop being mad." You heard him shuffling. "Besides, I've got something for you!"

He dropped something in your lap. You picked an item, your hands feeling around it, trying to figure out what the rectangular shaped box was.

"Whats this?"

"Oh, here. Let me help you." He lifted the lid of the box and you were immediately hit by a familiar smell.

"Chocolate?"

He hummed in confirmation"Your favourite ones too! They were always sold out! Luckily, I was able to use my charm on the owner."

"Charm? Oh, you mean where you pull that ugly smirk and do that half lidded look with your eyes, and you think that you look hot but you actually just look creepy?"

"Yeah- hey!"

And then the next 3 hours were spent like that, Hawks telling you about Europe and the bad guys he caught, you telling him about the way your family had been treating you.

"They don't let me do anything, they don't give me any privacy! Its like- its like they want me to be a doll!" You gave an exasperated sigh. "They- they act like they are being so generous. Like it was somehow my fault that my eyes got fried!"

"Oh come on. They can't be that bad-"

"They are! So much worse than before. Look, I'm a grown up- I need my space too! You know what Shotou said when I asked him to get me a walking stick? He said I don't need one since he can carry me everywhere. Do you know how embarrassing it is to get carried to the toilet every single day? Do you?!"

"Well, no-"

"And then Fuyumi cuts up my food and spoon feeds me herself! I know I'm blind but its not like I'm gonna stuff the food up my nose or something!"

The hero snickered at that.

"And then Enji reads me these novels or the newspaper and he skips over the parts he thinks I'm too "young" or "immature" to understand! They even monitor what I listen to! Fuyumi or Shotou would be quick to change the channel if something above pg 10 comes on!" You ran a hand through your hair frustratedly. "I asked Enji to get me a Braille and the first few time he pretended like he didn't hear me, before finally saying that I don't need one!"

"Don't worry, I'll sneak in a Braille for dummies the next time I visit."

"Hey-! Wait... what do you mean "next time"?"

"Oh come on! I promise I'll come earlier next time. Maybe in like 2 weeks-"

"No."

"What-"

"No. I want to leave this place today. You promised."

"Y/n-"Keigo reached to place a hand on your shoulder but you pushed him off.

"You. Promised. You said you'll get me out of here when I leave the hospital" You inhaled deeply. "Well, guess what, Hawks? Its been a whole month."

"I know but you're not well enough-"

"I AM! If anything, staying here is harming me more!" Your tone was getting angrier. "You said- you said you would take me away from them."

"I can't do it right now. The hero commission needs me-"

"I need you! Or am I just not worth your time?"

"Please, dove- try to understand. How will I take care of you if I'm out at the agency?"He tried to pet your head but you smacked his hand away, snarling at him.

"You're a liar. A big fucking liar! Was this the plan all along? To give me hope that you'll save me, only to fucking crush it?!" The hero managed to dodge the box of chocolates you threw at him. "I don't need fucking chocolate or your stupid presents. I need to get out of this goddamn house!"

The hero began walking towards the door. "You're not thinking rationally- I'll- I'll leave." But before the hero could manage to take another step, you were leaping towards him, but since you couldn't see, you only managed to fall near his feet. When he grabbed your shoulders to help you up, you were quick to latch onto him, wrapping your arms around his torso tightly.

"No- no! Don't go. Please, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. Please, don't be mad. I swear I'll behave, just don't leave me here!" Your hold onto him was becoming painfully tight.

Keigo felt like someone was breaking his heart piece by piece as he looked at you. The way your body shook from your pitiful sobs, the way you held onto his jacket as if your life depended on it- he was forced to remember how vulnerable you looked the night he brought you back to the this house. The same night when you begged and begged him to fly you away, that you'll do anything as long as he didn't dropped you back at the Todoroki estate.

"Y/n- darling, love, listen to me. I promised you that I'll keep you save, didn't I? I promise I'll come back soon-"

"YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE! CAN'T YOU SEE WHAT SHE'S DONE TO ME! SHE BURNED MY FUCKING EYES HAWKS! I'M FUCKING BLIND! DO I NEED TO LOSE A LIMB FOR YOU TO GET ME OUT OF HERE?! DO I HAVE TO SUFFER FROM ANOTHER "ACCIDENT"?!"

Hawks knew that bitch Rei did this on purpose, he knew and it killed him that he couldn't save you from her. He wanted to tell you that he believed you, and he was preparing a place for you. But the hero knows your siblings were eavesdropping, right on the other side of the door.

He had to be careful and play the fool if he wanted to get you out of this hell hole.

"Y/n please-"

You shook your head repeatedly, pulling him closer to you as you shrieked at him. "No. NO! I wont let you go! I WON'T LET YOU LEAVE WITHOUT ME! Keigo, I'm begging you! Take me with you, please! I'll die! I'll die! I'LL FUCKING DIE, KEIGO! PLEASE!"

Your loud screams had your siblings bursting through the door, obviously using a spare key. "Y/n, whats wrong-" You jumped away when they touched your shoulder, giving Hawks chance to slip away.

You instantly reached out for him, flailing your arms around to get a hold of him again. But the hero was already out the door and your siblings quickly pulled you back into their arms, shushing you, trying to calm you down.

But you were inconsolable. Thrashing around in Shotou's arms, you kept begging for Hawks to come back. "HAWKS COME BACK! LET ME GO! HAWKS, PLEASE! I'LL DIE! I'LL DIE! I'LL DIE!" It pained them to see you like this, so hysterical; Shotou and Fuyumi whispered sweet nothings but you payed them no mind. Natsuo knew you were going to hyperventilate soon, but he was more worried about you bursting a vessel in your head.

Thinking fast, he quickly brought up a tranquilliser- and the moment the sharp smell of the alcohol swab hit your nose, you were wrestling harder to get out Shotou's and Fuyumi's arms.

"Y/n, please calm down-"

"FUCK YOU! LET ME GO! KEIGO! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! COME BACK- STOP! STOP TOUCHING ME! STOP!" You screamed louder than before when you felt her cold hands gripping your arm, holding it still so that your brother could administer the dose.

As the drug began taking effect, your thrashing slowed down before you finally slumped into Shotou's arms. The tranquilliser numbed the headache that was forming, and you felt Fuyumi use a tissue to wipe the snot and the spit off your face.

"I'll die... I'll die... And you won't be there. And I'll die..."

Hawks was in a trance like state as he watched Shotou tuck you under the covers. He wanted to use his sharp feathers to slice off that cold bitch's hand that brushed the hair out of your face, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your daunting screams rang through his ears; his chest felt like some was shoving a knife through it slowly as he played back the image of you trying to wring yourself free from their arms, one hand still reaching out for him. It took everything in him not to grab it and pull you away from those monsters, but he had to remind himself of the bigger picture.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice the pyromaniac standing next to him until he spoke.

"This is all your fault."

Hawks looked at Dabi. His fault?

"You shouldn't have come here."

"She's my goddaughter-"

"Shut the fuck up." Dabi narrowed his eyes at the hero. "She's like this because you gave her false hope. Hope, that one day she'll get away from us. You and I both know that's not gonna happen." He sighed before continuing. "You call yourself a hero, but in reality, you're no better than us."

As Hawks turned to leave, not willing to let the villian get on his nerves, Dabi spoke again.

"Dont bother coming back. She won't forgive you. She'll never forget this betrayal."

Hurtful as they were, he knew the words he said were true.

Hawks was almost out the gates when he saw Enji sitting in the garden, looking at the koi pond. He should've left, should've flown away but there was something in Enji's eyes that had the winged hero walking towards him. He recognised the emotion as soon as he got close.

Sorrow.

Or was it guilt?

Perhaps a mixture of both.

"Endeavour, are you... alright?"

The number 1 hero looked away from the fish and blinked at him.

"Hawks? What are you still doing here?"

The blonde chuckled nervously. "I was just on my way out." He gazed at him. "Are you okay? You seem to be in deep thought."

Enji only stared at him. Taking his silence as the answer, Hawks turned to leave.

"Why did you come here today, Keigo?"

Keigo.

He suppressed the urge to shudder the way his name rolled off his tongue.

"She's my goddaughter too. Why? Do you think it was a bad decision to come?"

"No." Enji sighed. "I just- she hadn't laughed like that in a long time."

Hawks stood beside him. "She's still traumatised from the kitchen accident. Its understable-"

"No. She hadn't laughed like that for a long time, even before this happened." Enji's eyes moved towards the night sky. The stars were twinkling extra bright tonight. How he wished you could see it. "Before she lost her sight, she used to look out the window, her eyes searching sky." He gulped. "She was looking for you, Keigo. You- you made her happy, you make her laugh. I don't."

Hawks placed his hand on Enji's shoulder. "That's not true, Enji. You do make her happy. She loves you. She feels safe with you. She sees you as her protector."

"She does?"

He nodded. "Of course. If you want things to return to normal, you need to treat her normally too. Just- just talk to her. Sort out the issues and wash away whatever fears she has." Hawks wanted Enji to listen to you, to really listen to you and protect you from Rei. He could only hope that Enji understood what he meant.

Hawks was right, Enji realised. Whatever delusions you have of Rei wanting to hurt you on purpose, of being the "bad person", they can all be cleared up if he just talked to you. Ever since the incident, the family avoided talking to you about Rei or the events that had occurred that day.

If he just talked to you, things will return to normal. You'll become happy again.

"Thank you, Keigo."

Hawks only smiled in return. "I'll be leaving now."

"Okay. When will you visit again?"

"I'll be gone for longer now. The hero commission is sending me on another mission again."

"Oh. Safe travels, then."

As Hawks flew away, he began thinking about the house.

The house where he was going to take you to soon. He just needs to add a few finishing touches before he sets his plan in motion. The plan to rescue you, and eventually Enji, from those sadist that call themselves your family.

He will not let his dove get hurt again.

He'll save you this time.

He promises.

Thoughts?

Idk how this turned out, angst wasn't the plan initially. Guess I'll write godfather Hawks fluff for another day.

Anyways, now that this is done, I'll start working on RE 8 fic now.

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