#her broken Sight means that she does not see he is gone.

[mediumgayitalian]

i keep seeing sad posts talking about "may castellan making sandwiches every day waiting in hopes that her son will return" and.

guys.

there is no hope for may castellan. she is not waiting at the door with lunch and a tentative smile, waiting for him to come home even though he didn't yesterday, or yesterday, or yesterday, or yesterday. "in hopes" implies that there will come a day when that hope fades. in hopes implies she knows the odds are bad. in hopes implies reality will eventually catch up to her.

there is no hope for may castellan.

she is not waiting in hopes for her son to return. she is preparing, day after day after day (after day after day after day after day after) for the inevitability that luke will return to her. she does not know he is dead. she does not understand he is gone. she does not realize that time has passed; to her luke is nine, still. to her she is still placidly awaiting to return of a fourth grader. luke is not nineteen and betraying his camp. he is not twenty and housing a titan. he is not twenty one and watching his friends get slaughtered in an arena, twenty-two and forcing his sister to hold up the sky, twenty three and realizing, soul shuddering in his chest, that he has made a mistake he can never take back, that he can never undo what he has done.

luke castellan to his mother is a child who has not yet lost all his baby teeth. the cookies she makes for him are soft, because she remembers that. he still leaves the crust behind on his sandwiches. he has scrapes on his elbows and dirt on his nose. he flinches before he hugs her. he spends a lot of time outside, but he comes home before dark.

may castellan's tragedy is not that she is penelope waiting for odysseus to one day return and we know that he will not. may castellan's tragedy is that she does not understand her hero has left at all. may castellan's tragedy is that she will never understand, and she will continue to age, and continue to deteriorate, and one day she will die and she will spend eternity walking the dying poplar fields, whittled down to the memory of something missing from her.

there is no hope for may castellan.

[quaithe-seastar]

Burning Desire

Aemond x Older!sister Reader

Summary: You rush off to confront your brother Aemond after discovering he hurt your sister, only to find him crying. You are angry at him for what he has done, but you cannot stand to see your little brother suffer.

Warnings:  Angst, Smut, Sibling incest

A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty comfort fic, but it very quickly got out of hand. All dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in High Valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. (Gif is not mine!)

You stormed through the castle halls, ignoring the maids and knights who quickly stepped out of your way. Usually, you would give them some sign of acknowledgment, but tonight, you couldn’t— not when your anger was boiling over. Your hands trembled with repressed rage, and your fingers curled into fists as you tried desperately to refrain from lashing out. There was only one person who was deserving of your wrath, and you were headed to find him now. 

When you arrived at his door, you entered the room, not bothering to knock. The loud sound of the wooden door slamming close behind you echoed in the air. The room was dark; only a few candles were lit, though they were burning dangerously low. You squint your eyes, searching until you find the silver-haired man hunched over in his chair. Your robe made a slight whooshing sound as you stormed over to his side. 

“How dare you!” Your voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, every word dripping with venom and contempt.

Aemond says nothing. His head is lowered, and his long silver tresses conceal his face.

“You dare to lay a hand on our sister?! Has she not suffered enough?! And now you wish to send her into battle?!” Your chest is heaving wildly as you lose what little composure remains to you.

Once again, you are met with a deafening silence that angers you even more.

“Have you nothing to say?!” you yell, each word cracking like a whip. Your brows furrow and your lips curl into a snarl.

Yet once again, your words go unanswered. You open your lips, prepared to berate him even more until quiet sobs reach your ears. Your blood runs cold, and you freeze. Aemond’s body jerked with every gasp that escaped his throat. 

“I am alone,” he whispers . “As I always have been.”

His words move you to tears. 

“Aemond,” you whisper, stepping closer.

You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but pull it away just before reaching him. Your mind is suddenly conflicted. Your rage is quickly converting into sadness with every second that passes. The two of you rarely saw eye to eye these past few weeks. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay had left you horrified. The abhorrent murder of your nephew, Jaehaerys, happened not long after. You blamed Aemond for that and did not bother trying to hide it from him.

Then, Aegon returned from Rook’s Rest, burned and broken beyond repair. Your mother came to you shortly after, sharing her thoughts about what had happened. She believed Aemond to be responsible, but you could not bring yourself to believe it at the time. But as the days passed, you found yourself becoming increasingly unsure. Especially after today, when the horrific details of his actions at Sharp Point reached you. Most days, you could hardly even recognize him—this strange man who shares the face of your sweet little brother.

You take a deep breath before reaching out. Your hand trembles as you place it on his shoulder, but he does not flinch from your touch. He leans into it. Aemond raises his head just enough to look you in the eyes. His face is stained with tears, and his eye is red and gleaming with tears, ready to fall. His silver hair is unusually messy and unkempt. The leather eyepatch is gone, exposing the beautiful sapphire embedded into his eyesocket. It is a sight he has entrusted very few to see.

“I am sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you whisper, pulling him close.

He buries his face into your stomach. His large hands gripped tightly at your sides, and you did your best not to wince. You lift a hand, brushing down his unkempt hair. You were angry at him. You had come here to yell at him, maybe even hit him, but you couldn’t. Not when it filled your heart with great sorrow to see your brother in so much pain. Your little brother. The boy you had always tried so hard to shield from the cruelty of this world. The boy who had always run to you for comfort after being humiliated by Aegon time and time again.

Aemond continued to sob. His tears made the thin fabric of your nightdress stick to your skin, and the cold wetness sent a chill down your spine. You gasp as you feel him pull you down, sitting you on his lap. He held you close, burying his face into the curve of your neck. Your hands rested against the warm, bare skin of his back as you held him. He must have been preparing for bed not long before you arrived as he was only dressed in a pair of black lambswool breeches.

“You are not alone,” you reassure him, gently kissing the scar that marred his brow. “I am here, as I always have been.”

There is a slight chill in the air, but the heat radiating from his skin keeps you warm. Aemond sniffles but says nothing. You can feel his tears sliding down your neck. You move a hand up to his head, toying with his hair. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, seemingly inhaling your scent. Aemond shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, making the position more comfortable for you. A quiet gasp escapes your throat as you feel the taut muscle of his thigh pressing into the most intimate part of your body.

The feeling sends a rush of heat through your veins. Your breath quickens as you try to push the sensation aside. Your face burns as shame begins to overwhelm you. He just wanted to be close to you, searching for comfort in your arms as he had done many times before. But your body is turning it into something perverse.

Aemond bounced his knee ever so slightly, almost like a tremble. You squirmed, trying to press your thighs closer together in hopes of stopping the heat growing in your stomach. One of Aemond’s large hands rests firmly against the small of your back. The other moves to grip the outside of your thigh.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you feel his lips grazing against our collarbones.

“What?” He asks, his voice so nonchalant.

“I think I should go,” you replied, trying to stand up.

But his hands hold onto you tight, refusing to let you go. 

“Please stay,” he begged, burying his face into the curve of your neck once more.

“Alright,” you whisper, trying to calm him.

His hair tickles your nose. You lift your head a bit, resting your chin on the top of his head. You trail the tips of your fingers against the muscles of his back. Aemond nuzzles his face against your neck. He bounces his knee a bit harder. You wonder if he is doing this on purpose.

“Aemond, stop it,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fire sparking in the pit of your stomach.

“Stop what?” He asked, ghosting his lips over your jaw. 

“You know what,” you whine.

He ignores you; his lips press soft kisses against your jaw. Aemond bunches the skirt of your dress into the hand that grips your thigh. He steadily inches it up higher. The cold air touching your now bare legs makes the hair on your body stand up. Suddenly coming to your senses, you gasp, slapping a hand over his as the skirt of your dress reaches just above your knees. He tries to continue, but you use all the strength you can muster to keep his hand still. 

“We must stop,” you command, trying to stop yourself from giving in to him completely.

This was wrong. You were both betrothed to other people—him to some Baratheon girl and you to the Lord of the Arbor. They were political matches, as most marriages are. You held no love for Lord Redwyne, but you would do your duty as was expected of you.

Aemond easily pushed past your hand, slipping his hand between your thighs. You gasped, trying to squeeze them together to keep him at bay. Your stomach flutters as his thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingernails dig into his forearm. You pull back, and he lifts his head to look you in the eyes. 

He removes his hand from between your thighs, moving it up to your face. You find yourself melting into the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips, but his eye never leaves yours.

“You were supposed to be mine,”   he says in the gentlest tone.

“Aemond,” you whine, trying to push him away.

But he refuses to let you go. The hand on your back kept you from standing. His fingertips trail down the side of your neck down to the neckline of your nightdress. His touch on your skin leaves you feeling almost delirious. The fire in your stomach is fully ablaze now. You squirm in his lap as his fingers graze over the tops of your breasts. You cursed yourself for this, as the feeling of his tense muscles sends waves of heat straight to your cunt. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Your eyes close, and you bite your lip to stop crying out. 

“Look at me.”  

It is a command that you are unable to ignore. Aemond is the prince regent. In this moment, he speaks with the king’s voice. His absolute authority leaves you fearful and painfully aroused. Once again, your eyes meet his. He says nothing, simply watching you like a predator stalking its prey as his hand moves over your nightdress, cupping your breast. You gasp, slapping a hand over his. You know you should push him away, but you don’t. 

A chill runs down your spine. Under his gaze, you feel completely exposed, almost powerless—a feeling you usually dislike greatly. You were a princess of the realm and a dragon rider. You were anything but helpless. Yet you find yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender yourself to him, to escape from your worries and sorrows, to be free from all the tiring expectations that have been placed upon you since your birth.

“Am I so hard to love?” 

His voice trembled, as he struggled to hold back tears. The authority is gone, replaced with something much more vulnerable. The sight broke your heart in two. You had always worried about Aemond, your sweet, sensitive little brother. Since he had come of age, he had changed. He was colder and more distant, not just from you but from everyone, even your mother, whom you know he cared for greatly. It was like he believed he had to be this... pillar of strength, or all would crumble.

You remove your hand from his, moving it up to cup the scarred side of his face. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on his brow. You have done this so many times over the years, yet it has never felt as intimate as it did now. Aemond closed his eye, leaning into your touch. A sharp pain stabs at your heart as you watch how desperate he is for your comfort.

The hand on your breast slid back down to your thigh. Aemond’s fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. Your thumb traced down the deep scar that marked his cheek. You lean down, peppering kisses from his cheek to his jaw, where the scar stops. He turns his head slightly, so that your lips hover above his, almost touching. You rest your head against his. His violet eye stared into your own.

“What of Floris? She is to be your wife.” You say, hoping he may come to his senses, as yours have fled from you completely.

“You will be my wife... for tonight.” A single tear drops from his eye as the words leave his lips.

It is such a beautiful, harrowing sight. One that leads you to shedding tears of your own. Aemond’s hands grip you by the waist, hoisting you up just enough for you to straddle him. Your knees rest on both sides of his legs, trapping him between your thighs. A wave of heat runs through your veins as your bare cunt presses against his clothed bulge. He leans forward, capturing your gasp with his mouth. One of your hands cups his face while the other pushes his hair away from his face. 

The two of you shared passionate, frantic kisses. You had not been prepared from when Aemond’s tongue slid into your mouth. You whine, caught off guard, but do your best to follow along with him. You had no experience with such things. The only kisses you had ever experienced came from tall, handsome knights in your dreams. But even then, those kisses were nothing like this. They were short and sweet. A quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this was much different. Aemond kissed you with such urgency, such deep burning desire.

Aemond lifts his hips, pressing himself against you. The feeling of his hard cock pressing against your aching cunt makes you cry out, though your noises are muffled against his lips. The feeling is so foreign, yet exciting, that you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to palm him through his trousers. His hardened cock is thick and throbbing beneath your touch. A newfound confidence blooms in your chest.

A sound rumbled in his chest; his large hands gripped your ample hips. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, your bare cunt grinding against his clothed bulge. He hissed, knitting his brows together. You watch as his face contorts into one of pleasure. Your own burning desire is growing too much. Your desperate, heavy breaths fill the air as you grind yourself against him even faster, desperate to reach your peak. He looked up at you; his mouth hung open slightly as he watched you use him for your own selfish gratification.

It’s exhilarating- him watching you- seeing you in a way no other ever has, touching you in a way no other ever has.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises.

His praise sends another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. The room suddenly feels unbearably hot. You’re so close; you can feel it. The pressure building up in your stomach is eager to be released. You roll your hips even faster, harder. But it is not enough. The throbbing in your cunt is almost painful. You are nearly sobbing at this point.

“I want more,” you whine. “I need more. Please, brother.”

“I am at your mercy, sister,” he smirks. “Take what you want.”

You reach down, huffing as you struggle to untie the laces of his trousers. You can feel his chest vibrate against you as he chuckles.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble.

“My apologizes-” he shudders as your hand wraps around his thick cock. Finally freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

A triumphant smile crosses your face. You give his cock a few strokes, admiring the way it stands so prettily for you, so thick and full. Suddenly, you begin to fear the thought of having to fit it inside of you. Aemond seems to sense your worry. His hand cups the back of your neck, making you look at him.

“Take it slow,” he warns.

You nod, lifting yourself on your knees a bit. Your wetness coats your fingers and his cock as you press the tip into your aching cunt. You whine as the head breaches your walls, and you clamp tightly around him. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable but not painful. You may be a maiden, but you still had desires. Many nights, you have had to satiate your hunger with your fingers.

You lower yourself on him slowly. Thankfully, your wetness makes it easier to take him. You take a deep breath as you take him to the hilt. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size. 

“Are you okay?” Aemond asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, I just ... need a moment,” you breathlessly laugh as he lifts a hand to trail his fingers against your jaw.

He nods, raising his chin to kiss gently against the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, pressing your lips to his. A soft tongue gently licks at the swell of your bottom lip, and you grant him entry. The gentleness comes to an end. He licks into you with a fervor that steals your breath away. Your thoughts fade, and you melt into his arms. 

Aemond kisses you like he wants to devour you, and you want nothing more. You lift your hips before lowering yourself. Aemond finally breaks the kiss, and his hands move to your waist.

“Ah-h,” he whines against the corner of your lips.

You begin to move slowly, easing yourself into up and down on his cock. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he presses his head to the back of the chair. His chest moves with his deep breaths, his eye is closed, and his mouth is partially open. He shudders, and a desperate, eager moan emits from his throat. It is a sight to behold.

He lifts his hips, pressing deeper into you, making you cry out.

“Aemond!” You whimper, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

His eye fluttered open as he watched you struggle to find the right pace. He gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your fleshy sides. He guided you, raising you up and down on him. The newfound pace made you mewl pathetically, but you were too desperate to reach your peak to care. He called out your name. It sounded almost sinful coming from his lips. 

You drop your head, resting it against his. Your mouth hangs open as you gasp and moan. The faint scent of pine and smoke fills your nose. It’s him, his scent. The smell is almost intoxicating. Your mind is swimming, dizzy from the pleasure of him bucking up into you.

You feel one of his palms cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He lifts his chin, closing the small distance between you pressing his lips to yours. You try your best to follow the frantic rhythm he sets. He swallows every sound you make as he holds the back of your neck, refusing to let you pull away—not that you want to. 

Aemond plants his feet on the ground for leverage as he pumps into you. His thrusts are more erratic now as he approaches his end. The air in your lungs is incinerated, and a shameful, high-pitched moan escapes from your lips. You move your hips, rocking against him, dangerously close to finally reaching your peak. 

He doesn’t stop, bucking into you with a force that would be strong enough to toss you off of him if not for the hand holding onto your waist. Your hot cunt clenched around him, the muscles in your legs burned from remaining in this position for so long. 

It’s not fair- how good he is at this- how good he is making you feel. It’s all too much. Your poor wet cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure. The hand on your neck moves down, and the pad of his thumb rubs circles around that sensitive button between your legs. 

“That's it,” he coaxed, his hot breath fans on your mouth. “Let go, give it to me.”

You don’t stand a chance. Not when his cock makes you feel so full, reaching that one spot that makes you throw your head back. One of your hands tangles in his hair, tugging. Your chests’ are flushed against each other as you both rock against each other. You clench around his cock as you finally reach your release, hard and blinding. The world around you seems to disappear. It’s only you and him who matter.

“Ha-ah ... ah,” he sputtered, becoming more desperate.

You cry out as you fill his hot mouth, which latches into one of your breasts. He suckles at your breast like a starving babe. His tongue lashes back and forth around your hardened nipple. The sensation is strange but has you clenching around him even tighter. 

His teeth graze against your nipple. Every grunt and moan that leaves him vibrates against your breast. You can feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. His cock pulses inside of you, it feels too good. Aemond releases your nipple, resting his forehead on your breast. Choked gasps and grunts slip past his lips as he reaches his peak, releasing inside of you, filling you with his seed.

The two of you stay pressed against each other as you come down for your highs. Aemond’s hips relax, his body melting into the chair. Your body sinks into him, boneless and spent. You lay your head on his shoulder, resting your chin on his collarbone. His fingertips trail over the curve of your back. Your eyes feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

“I am sorry for what I’ve done,” he apologized.

“I know,” you reply weakly.

You can feel his warm breath against your ear. His scent, mixed with his sweat, fills your nose, bringing you comfort.

“Our sister has too much of our mother in her. I see that now.”

You frown but say nothing, letting him continue. His lips press against your ear. He nudges your face with his shoulder, making you pull away. He grasps your chin between his thumb and index fingers. Your eyes flicker between the sapphire and his violet iris. You lift a hand to trail your fingers along his sharp jaw.

“But you and I,” he says, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “We are two flames kindled from the same fire. We were always meant to burn as one.”

“Aemond,” you sigh.

“I am afraid,” he admits, rendering you speechless. “I cannot fight this war alone, sister.”

“You are not alone,” you argued. “You have Daeron.”

“Tsk,” he turns his head. “He is still young, as is his dragon.”

“Young or not, Tessarion is still a dragon.”

Aemond says nothing. His eye stared at the plain stone wall of his bedchamber. You watch him silently, trying to read him.

“Come with me,” he asked, turning his head back to you. 

“What?” You gasp.

“Mount your dragon and go with me to Harrenhal.”

“Mother would never allow it,” you shake your head.

“Our mother has made it clear that she does not hold our best interest at heart.”

“She means well,” you protested, trying to defend your mother, no matter how true his words seemed.

“If we do not fight, we will die. Rhaenyra may spare you and Helaena, but she will not be so merciful to the rest of us. She will have to take Aegon’s head, mine, and Daerons's as well. So long as our father has a living son, she will never be able to rule in peace.”

“You don’t know that-”

“I do,” he insisted. “Is that not what our mother has told us our entire lives?”

You blink, and memories of your childhood flood your mind. He was right. Over the years, your mother had repeatedly stressed the dangers that would follow should your sister ascend to the throne.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

Your eyes flickered from his trembling lips to his tear-filled eye. It was not an order but a plea. He was afraid and desperate for aid. You were afraid as well—you had been since Ser Criston placed that crown upon Aegon’s head. It has only been a few weeks, and already, your life has been turned completely upside down. 

You had no desire to fight this war. Many times, you have had to stop yourself from climbing on your dragon and leaving. But you could not abandon your family, just as you could not abandon Aemond now.

You nod your head. He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing his lips to yours, giving you one last sweet and adoring kiss. Once he pulls away, you lay your head back down on his shoulder.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You mumble against his skin.

“Yes,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “You can sleep now.”

[leychin]

SACRIFICE

fem pronouns used

Shigaraki is mad at you.

You've been in the infirmary for a month, he hasn't visited you.

Hell, he's gone out of his way to avoid thinking about you. He can't afford it. It makes a prickling feeling threaten to burst in his chest and his throat burn. You're an insolent pest who has done nothing but worm you way into the crevices of his already withering heart, and he hates it. He hates what that means because its a weakness, and he hates what that mean's because that means he cares for someone more than he cares about himself, and he cant let that happen. Shigaraki has goals, dreams of a new world, and things to do.

He sighs, he knows that's not true. He's not that child anymore, and he knows your value to him. Everyone in the league was someone he cared for, and of course you weren't an exception to this rule. If he had to guess what this feeling was, he would chalk it up to frustration. Not because you're a bad subordinate, but because you were too fucking self sacrificing.

Its been a month since the fight with the Meta Liberation Army and you still haven't woken up. He wants to believe it was deserved, and that you got what you were asking for. Hell, you could stay in that room for as long as he wants. See if he gives a shit.

But he does, because this guilt is eating him alive. You saw Re-Destro grab Shigaraki and toss him, and when Destro went for the finishing blow you jumped in the way instead to hold him off, to let your leader get away, or just to grab his bearings.

When Shigaraki finally regained some semblance of balance, he saw Destro toss your body into debris. You didn't get lucky with where you landed like your leader did. He fell in empty desolate fields and your head collided straight with the remnants of a building.

The rest was a blur after that, Shigaraki woke up as the leader and with a broken foot. But he remembers the feeling of seeing your head bleed out, and he remembers how sick he felt at the thought of losing you. He hates that feeling.

"You oughta see her boss. She's been asking if you've been alright since she woke up." Dabi advises, and it makes Shigaraki tsk. He knows you've been asking about him, but he doesn't know how to show his face to you now. He's been trying to turn these feelings into anger for so long, and to push you out of his heart he's not sure if he'd be able to do it with you looking at him like he's the most important person in the world.

But he eventually sucks it up, because now he's standing outside of your door. The muffled beeps of the heart monitor you're hooked up to mimicking his own steady heartbeat. Realistically he knows theres nothing to be worried about; he knew you weren't mad at him, but something disgusting swirled in his chest and it spread like decay to the rest of him.

When he opens the door, and you meet his eyes and smile so brightly he has to fight the urges to scratch at his neck. He knew you would be happy to see him, everyone said you would be. So why is this upsetting him?

"Im so glad you're alright." Those are the first words you say to him, and he wants to rip his hair out at how soft your voice was now. So relaxed, and so peaceful like you didn't almost die that day.

Shigaraki huffs, before stepping fully into your line of sight to show the boot he has to wear on his leg for a while "Most of me is at least." and you laugh at that, you missed his dry humor and you want to tell him everything you've been thinking in this last month.

But your head pounds, and Shigaraki is quick to reach out to you with all five fingers and carefully touch your head. You freeze, but when decay doesn't come and he instead hands you your glass of water wordlessly you stare at him with wide eyes.

"Oh.. I can control it now." He says, unsure of how to explain that his 'awakening' came to him as he saw you slumped over that building, the blood leaking from your head and how angry he was that you would've thrown your life away for him, because your belief in his ability to create a future for everyone was so strong you were willing to never see it because it was your leader, because it was him.

Shigaraki opts to show you instead, taking two fingers and tapping the flowers on your nightstand. The spread was much slower than five fingers, but they wilted regardless.

Then carefully, Shigaraki lifted your hand and pressed his five fingertips to yours. The moment was oddly intimate; the only sounds being your heart monitor (that seemed to be picking up slightly) and the faint sounds of tv in the background.

"...I thought. I wouldn't be able to keep you in my party anymore." Shigaraki says, notably with his fingertips still pressed to yours "I was mad at you, I didn't understand why you did that. I thought you were stupid, and you would die." its a genuine, human fear that Shigaraki goes out of his way to hide from his friends, he's always felt that he had to be strong for them, but in this moment it all seems to tumble.

"I wanted... to keep leveling up with you." Shigaraki tries to explain "I didn't want it to be over yet. Not with you. Theres a lot I want to do with you still." and in that moment, Shigaraki realizes he doesn't see you the way he sees spinner, or toga, or even Dabi. It's something else that he can't quite place. "Don't do that stupid shit again." is all he says instead though, unsure on how to voice the latter half of his thoughts.

But its not lost on you, and you simply smile at him one again as you move your fingers so that your fingers are interlocked with his hand, and Shigaraki is confused, but slowly copies your action. Its nice.

"I won't, if you come and actually visit me this time." You offer.

Shigaraki pretends to ponder for a moment, before his own lips pull into a genuine smile for the first time since he's woken up "I'll think about it."

He'll come see you again every day until you're released from the infirmary, and then every day when you two work for your world together.

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Insecurities Part 2

Part 1 ~ Part 3 Part 4

Buggy X Fem Reader

Buggy was unreasonably angry, he knew it. He couldn’t understand why you had been continuing this ruse for so long. He slammed the bathroom door, leaving you in there and looked around, detaching his hands to grab clothes and get dressed quickly. He stepped on a piece of your discarded costume and it filled him with rage and sadness looking at it.

Quickly he grabbed a bag and rummaged in a chest to set some berries aside. He couldn’t have such a distraction around him anymore. He quickly gathered your things that had been placed in a few places in the room and stuffed them in the bag. He listened to see if you had moved in the bathroom and was slightly relieved that you hadn’t come out yet. The face you made before he left had broken his heart but he was sure that it was all apart of the act you had started playing so long ago.

Once most of your items were gathered Buggy grumbled leaving the room, if he had missed anything you could grab it yourself. He needed to be gone, his resolve would break if he saw you again. He stormed out of the room heading to his office to cool off, not even bothering to put his makeup on for the day.

~~~

        It wasn’t until late at night that Alvida was the one to break Buggy’s silence. He had made it clear he didn’t want to be disturbed and seeing the former captain saunter in with a knowing smirk pissed him off to no end. “Must’ve been an eventful night~” She laughed sitting down in a chair pouring out some wine for herself, “I haven’t even seen Y/N all day. You really must be gentler with her.”

        That name made Buggy go over the edge, “Never mention her in front of me again” he slammed his fists on his desk and glared at Alvida who seemed genuinely shocked at your outburst. “If she knows what’s good for her, she’d be gone by now.”

        “What does that mean? Buggy you didn’t kick her out, did you?” Alvida stood up, her normally composed self disappearing, “She’s been here since before me!” Buggy threw a knife in her direction.

        “She shouldn’t have played with fire then” Buggy was seething, he had almost forgotten that you were a senior member of the crew and it brought another wave of betrayal and anger to wash over him.

        “She wasn’t playing with fire you idiot” She slammed her mace down onto Buggy’s desk and got in his face, “I was so fucken sick of listening to her swoon over you that I convinced her to take her shot.”

        Buggy stopped for a second thinking about words he just heard, “That’s impossible Alvida and you fucken know it. Now get out of my fucken face.” There’s no way anything between the two of you had been real.

        “Fine but I better see that poor girl tomorrow otherwise there will be hell to pay.” Alvida murmured slamming the door on her way out. Buggy sat back down angry, He guessed Alvida was right, he couldn’t just kick you out entirely. You did have rather large roles. Best to demote you and avoid coming into contact, but to just kick out someone whose been apart of the crew for so long would be insane.

        He certainly wasn’t going to talk to you so he sent word through Cabaji to let you know of your new position. Much to his dismay though he couldn’t find you anywhere. Your roommates hadn’t seen you since yesterday and all your items were still in their quarters but no one had seen a single sight of you.

        Out of frustration Buggy stormed to his own room, assuming you hadn’t even left yet. He burst into the room nearly taking the door off its hinges but stopped when he looked at the bed. He quickly noticed that the bag he had prepared for you was missing, but the satchel of berries was laying right there. He looked else where in the room and found nothing else disturbed before his eyes glanced over at his vanity, noticing a neatly wrapped box.

        He grabbed it, and sat of the bed, no doubt this was your work, no one else would even bother wrapping anything, opting to just hand it to Buggy instead. He slowly ripped open the box, his breath hitching at the content inside.

        He thumbed the pages looking at your handy work, “Always the sentimental type,” He muttered under his breath looking at a neatly written paragraph explaining the photo right above it. As he flipped through, he was shocked to see drops of water appear on the pages below him and without realizing it he was full blown crying.

~~~

It had been a couple of days since you disappeared, everyone had hoped that you’d come back since you left, to their knowledge, without any money and without most of your belongings. They had assumed you were just sulking somewhere and that you’d come back once you calmed down, but as the days passed the outcome became bleaker.

~~~

The first couple of months from the crew were hard. You were use to the daily grind of preparing for a show and making sure the service was running smoothly. Ignoring your relationship with Buggy, you were also the main trapeze artist and escapist act for the circus, and you were in charge of assigning groups to missions on your off days from the circus.

        On top of going from island to island, you had to be careful as you were still a wanted criminal. Your bounty being 20 million Berries, made bounty hunters come looking for you, as soon as word got out that you, we no longer on Karai Bari. Early on Cabaji and Alvida also tried to get a hold of you but you ignored it, answering the bare minimum questions that you were alright and alive before hanging up. You didn’t know why they were contacting you but it hurt too much to hear voices of people you couldn’t see again. Opting instead to sell your transponder snail to help change your appearance enough to not be recognized.

        You dyed your hair and put made sure to wear clothes that covered every tattoo, choosing to look like a normal islander over the performer/pirate you look you had grown accustomed to over the years. You never stayed on an island for too long, a week or two at most to evade prying eyes from realizing who you were. You still needed to time to figure out what you’d be doing from now on, where’d you go. You thought about all the previous times you had restarted your life, how every time it was by no choice of your own.

The thought to join another pirate crew had crossed your mind but immediately left a sour taste in your mouth, you didn’t want to follow someone who wasn’t Buggy. He was your one and only captain, even if he no longer wanted you. Your thoughts wondered towards the circus and how happy it had made you to just preform. Hearing the applause as you swung across a chasm or got out of a box made your heart beat with joy. It was risky to get back into the business, it’d put you in center of attention again. Ultimately though, you thought it’d be best to do something you enjoyed rather than wander the world lonely.

After much thought throughout the weeks, you decided it’d be best to save up the money and start your own circus, certainly not on the grand line, that’d be too close to Buggy. You set your sights for the South Blue and let yourself relax now that you had a goal in mind. For now, you were still very much in the New World and needed a way to 1) make money and 2) get there.

What was also starting to concern you was the lack of period you had experienced since you had left, although the thought wasn’t really there. In the past, your period had stopped for 4-5 months before because of stress, and you certainly were in no lack of stress at the moment. For now, you’d rather sleep the night a little more comfortable now that you had decided on your path.

~~~

Alvida was able to get a hold of you for a quick conversation but you had kept it short and non-descript, not answering any questions about where you were or where you were heading. Buggy had faced Avida’s wrath for chasing away her favorite crewmate but he was dealing with a lot more emotions than just that. When Cabaji tried calling you, you had answered but he quickly realized you weren’t going to say anything.

The longer without you the more everyone realized just how much you did. When Buggy created his delivery service most of his crew choose one side to stay apart of, the circus, or the service. But you had somehow managed to do both, arranging practices and new routines for acrobatics while also overseeing groups training and sending the appropriate groups to whatever battle needed it. It was stressful having to catch up with what jobs you were no longer doing. And having to explain your disappearance was more painful, making Buggy push everything onto Mohji or Cabaji.

Buggy went through your belongings, one of your roommates bringing the chest of items when he demanded it. He pushed aside some clothing and Knick knacks before he laid his eyes on a journal that looked well-loved. He sat back as he untied the leather string that kept the journal closed. The first page seemed to have been dated 13 years prior. He flipped to the back of the journal, still a decent amount of empty pages but he finally found the last entry, dated just a day before he had kicked you out.

~4 months~

You couldn’t ignore it anymore; you had somehow made it to the beginning of the Grand line but with a more dire matter rearing it’s head you had to stop and figure it out. You had gained a significant amount of weight, ‘popping’ within the past 2 weeks as some of the people you were traveling with said.

        Right now, you were on a semi-busy island, one that most people stop at to re-stock their ships before venturing further and you were waiting in a small doctors’ office. You had tried to deny it but it was becoming a nuisance. The nausea at the smell of foods, the waking up to puke. And what would you do? It was painful to think about how you ended up where you were.

        The door opened stopping your thoughts and the doctors closed the door behind her, “Well Y/N, congratulations. It seems your about 17 weeks pregnant. Although you are much larger than an average pregnancy.” Your heart stopped hearing these words, “I’d recommend you stop you’re travelling. With how fast the baby is developing I wouldn’t be shocked if you had a short pregnancy.”

        You sit there thinking for a second, “What do you mean a short pregnancy?”

        “Well, most pregnancies are around 9 months. But that’s with 2 normal humans.” The doctor got out a small chart you’d never seen before, “We’ve noticed that when people copulate with others, say Fishmen or Giants for example, the gestation period can be much shorter or longer. And based on the information you’ve given us I’d expect your due date to be somewhere within the next month or two.” The doctor pointed out the information on the chart as she explained it to you.

        Your head was reeling, was Buggy not human? You knew his nose was different but that didn’t mean he wasn’t human. The doctor took your silence as a way to continue, “I’d highly recommend you’d settle down until you give birth. Traveling could put you and your child in danger. Would you like to contact the father? We have a great office of the island that can track down most anyone.” She rubs your arm a bit, “Until then I’d like to see you in the office at least once a week, especially since you’ve been out on the sea without any pre-natal vitamins this entire time.”

        You sit there placing your hands on your stomach. You couldn’t continue your journey like this, and what’s more what will you do when they’re born? Tears brimmed your eyes, “Ah- Of course we do have other options if you’d rather not have the child” The doctor quickly added seeing you slightly tremble.

        You snapped your head up and then looked down at your stomach again. Despite everything, you couldn’t bare the thought of giving them up, “No- ah sorry. I’m just, I’m overwhelmed at the news. Is there a place I could stay for a while?” You rub one of your eyes before looking up at the doctor with a meek smile.

        The doctor sighs a bit seeing you calm down, “Of course, I have a friend who has a spare room, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you out.”

~~~

Buggy hasn’t been the same without you. He was easier to anger and started doing more dangerous acts, pushing everyone to work harder. His crew didn’t know whether he was encouraging everyone to work their hardest or if he was trying to push them over the edge and no one tried to figure it out either.

He had taken his time to read through your journal when he got lonely and realized he never got to actually know you. His heart sank the more he realized that he just forced you to go with his own current, not caring about your life. He read as your life seemed bleak and dark before taking a uphill turn when you joined his crew. He smiled as he read your first impression of him as, “A charming blue-haired savior.” And he vaguely remembered the day himself.

        He had mistakenly decided to raid an island that had a celestial dragon on it, apparently the island made a tribute every couple of years by offering a maiden as a slave. You were there in the cage, contorting you body to make it easier to escape, the movements had intrigued him and he offered you a spot on his crew. He remembers you being surprised that he was even there, your doe eyes staring up at him before you smiled, revealing a key between your teeth that you used to unlocked yourself from the restraints before taking his hand. He couldn’t help but to remember a few tears fall from your eyes despite your smiling.

        His heart ached at all the memories that were resurfacing, before continuing to read your journal. Every big adventure written in remembrance, the read of your admiration towards him for changing plans when “the idiot in a straw hat” came by and it made Buggy chuckle as your recollection of the events. Closing the journal whenever he couldn't read anymore.

~6 Months~

Gin helped you to your appointment. When you had met him, you were on guard, but he’s the first one to open up to you about being an ex-pirate himself and how he settled down to help those in need. Just like how someone had helped him when he was starving. He didn’t seem to mind that you had stayed longer than expected and even offered you the place until you felt the child was old enough. Even pushing for you to raise the child a bit before continuing your adventure, after you had told him you wanted to start a circus, so that you wouldn’t have to worry about the newborn.

        But much of that talk was hushed as your stomach was now ballooned and you hadn’t felt any contractions as of yet. Dr. Shiegi was already waiting for you in her office when you arrived. Gin was about to sit in the waiting room when you looked back, “You know Gin. If you want to come in you can,” It was a friendly gesture, he had become like a protective brother since you’ve met him and he seemed overjoyed for a second before calming himself back down to be composed as he walked into the office and taking a seat there.

        Dr. Shiegi was mulling over papers after doing all the normal check-ups, “Are you sure the father isn’t from elbaf???” She was stressing herself over your due date and how large you were becoming. “I just can’t seem to pin-point anything, if I knew more about the father maybe-“ She stopped herself as she realized it was a bit of a sore subject for you.

        You sighed while smiling, a hand gently placed on your stomach, “As long as the baby’s healthy I don’t mind waiting.” The doctor across from you sighing heavily.

        “This is making me as stressed as when I was a student Y/N. How are we supposed to prepare anything if you have no idea when you’ll go into labor??” She took a deep breath before getting up to get herself some tea, pouring you a cup as well.

        “Well, there’s no use in stressing over what you can’t control,” you muse taking the cup from her extended hand, “So how was everything else?” Taking a sip.

        “You and the baby both seem to be healthy as can be, I cannot stress though you shouldn’t be working right now. Don’t think Gin hasn’t told me about you trying to sneak out to help in the garden or build things. You need bed rest especially with this unknown due date,” She stressed her words as she sat back down.

        “I feel fine, besides I’ll go crazy if I don’t do anything. I’m use to moving around a lot and I’m sure my baby agrees,” You smiled a bit as she groaned and you could feel Gin’s worried stare in the side of your head, “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll cut back a little bit.” Dr. Shiegi sighed a bit leaning back, willing to accept this small compromise for now.

        “By the way Y/N, have you thought about any names?” Gin seemed to perk his ears at this as you hadn’t talked to him about it either.

        You chuckled a bit, “I know it sounds silly but I was thinking of Benji or Azure. Either way I’ll raise them for the spotlight” Truth be told you were hoping for a girl and you couldn’t help but to imagine what a cute baby with a bright red nose would look like.

        “Not the weirdest I’ve heard, and if you’re raising them for the circus the names fit in well,” Gin piped into the conversation again a small twinkle in his eye at the thought of a child running around. You could tell he had taken on an uncle role already with how much he was doting on your unborn child, every now and then he let his hard shell fall to reveal it.

~~~

Another lonely night led Buggy back to your journal, this time to an entry of his time in Impel Down. You had been worried about your captain's well-being and if you'd ever see him again, only sighing in relief when you got the news that he had escaped only to be terrified when he had appeared in the Paramount War, broadcasting everything for the world to see. You had written about how it was stupid of him to go in there with little to no plan, but how it was exactly who you knew him to be. Proud that he hadn't changed while behind bars.

The more he read the more he realized how much you had been watching him for much longer than you had been sleeping with him. There was even mention on how Alvida bullied you about your school girl crush on the captain and how your first night with him had been because of the domineering womens interference.

Buggy had realized all his mistakes, even with his own self-doubts he was regretting everything. He never thought that anyone would truly love him, nor would he have ever thought they’d put up with how obnoxious he was all the time.

~~~

"We have to find her,” Buggy demanded bursting into the room. He brought his closest advisors into the meeting, Mihawk and Crocodile were meant to be there but they’d be damned if they were to actually be bossed around by him.

        “What do you think we’ve been doing this entire time behind your back,” Alvida mumbles, using a file to fix her nails, “Do you really think I’d ever let her escape without an attempt at finding her?”

        “The problem is she knows how to disappear,” Cabaji chimed in, “we lost track of her after she was seen escaping some marines a couple months back.” Buggy’s heart quickened at the mention of marines.

        “Why didn’t you report to me on any of this, What if she’s in trouble?” He demanded slamming a fist into the table.

        “What so you could tell us to fuck off and that your decision is final?” Alvida glowered at him, “Besides if marines caught her there would have been news on it, I’m sure she’s off hiding somewhere. We just have to look for what she loved and follow any leads.” And so started the full-scale project to find you.

~8 months~

Dr. Shiegi was stressing beyond belief, you were much larger than any pregnancy she had seen before and was starting to get worried about your own wellbeing. And you had to admit, it was getting much harder to walk around with a stomach the protruded as far out as it did. Gin was more than happy to let you sit and do everything for you, but you didn’t like being doted and waited on, you’d much rather be out and about but it seemed as though your child had other plans.

        Gin had also noticed how lonely you got at times. You had seen an updated bounty poster of Buggy on the street and had taken it without a second thought. You read of how he had been moving around, making waves in the New World. When you thought you were alone, you’d look and talk to the poster as though it were Buggy you were talking too.

        You weren’t sure how your old Captain would take the news of having a child soon, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be a part of their life, but it brought you some solace to just talk about your dreams of raising them to be an amazing performer, a headliner no doubt for the circus you were sure to start when your body was your own again.

        Gin would sometimes listen to you through the doorway without you realizing, usually making noise to alert you to his presence. He had convinced you to stay on the island until your child was at least a year old, and you hadn’t told him yet but you were thinking of settling down and starting your circus here. No one knew who you were here, or if they did, they didn’t care. There were enough other ex-pirates or people hiding their identities on the island that people didn’t pry, they were happy with the present and didn’t question the past.

        You felt a rather hard kick against your stomach and Gin glanced over at you with concern, “I think it’ll happen any day now,” you say soothing your stomach.

~~~

Buggy was going insane, he had sent troops out to every nearby island to look for you. Every convoy came back empty and Alvida was beating on him every day there wasn't a sign of you. "There's no one else competent around here," She had yelled at him throwing her club in his direction.

The longer you were away the more reckless Buggy became, making a larger impact on those around him, and more importantly, the world around him. He had ransacked a couple Navy bases and didn't show signs of stopping.

~9 Months~

Dr. Shiegi was stationed at the end of the bed and Gin was wiping your forehead with a wet towel. It had been 30 hours already and you’ve never felt this pain before. You were gripping the bed with all your might listening to Dr. Shiegi’s commands. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea, thoughts of Buggy kept rising up that brought waves of a different pain. Would he approve of this? You doubt it, the last time you looked at him he only held hatred for you.

        Soon enough though, you could hear a crying and breathed a sigh of relief hearing ‘it’s a boy’ before you felt another jolt of pain, letting out another scream. Your baby was quickly handed off to Gin as Dr. Shiegi took her place again concern filling her face.

        After a long process you finally felt a relief. You were to dazed to hear what was being said and let darkness befall you.

~~~

You woke up to Shiegi wiping your forehead and looked around trying to sit up, “Hey calm down everything’s alright. You need rest right now.”

“Where’s my baby?” You ignore her concern and adjust to lean against the back of the bed, wincing a bit in pain. Your doctor and friend sighs before leaving the room for a second.

She comes back in holding a bundled blanket, Gin following behind her with another bundle, “Y/N. I’m an idiot, I never thought of the possibility of twins,” You look at the two blankets registering her words, “So I’d like you to meet your two healthy baby boys,” She smiled handing you one baby as Gin sat next to you holding the other.

You look down holding in a gasp, The newborn in your hand had a few locks of blue hair and a nose the was similar to his fathers, you quickly look at Gins arms and he takes the hint to settle the child in your other arm. Twins. They looked exactly the same, the flood of emotions you felt as you stared at your beautiful babies was too much that you started to cry a bit.

The pain was worth it, the months on this island was worth it, you couldn’t think of a single thing better than that of the two bundles of joy right in front of you.

[samwinchesterswifu]

Linger (Sam Winchester x Reader) Angst

Season 4 x Episode 21 - When The Levee Breaks

Song Inspo: "Linger" by The Cranberries

Warnings: Sam being an asshole & Demon blood drinkin

MINORS DNI

A/N: this one is shit but i had to get something out there. *italics are flashbacks

Word Count: 1360

Summary: Locking Sammy up in the panic room was something she didnt want to do, but she needed to protect the boy she loved, even if he seemingly didnt love her.

“What do you mean Sammy has demon blood in him?” She seethes towards Dean as she tries to understand the conversation unfolding in hushed tones.

“Look, that’s all I know from what Dad told me. I couldn’t keep this a secret anymore.” Dean states, hand in his hair in frustration.

“And you decided to me? Of all people?” She asks bewildered.

“Yes, because we both know that you’re his only hope.” Dean sighs.

“Your brother doesn’t love me, he’s made that very clear.” She scoffs.

“He does, he does deep down and he’s terrified.” Dean grunted. She shakes her head at his comment.

“Okay, so what do we need to do?” She asks.

The memory played loudly in her head as she sits on the stairwell of Bobby’s basement. Sam had gotten to far with the demon blood consumption and she was forced to lock him in the panic room to help him detox. But her heart ached at the wretched sounds of his screams. Tears softly fell upon her cheeks as she cried listening to his pain. She was so in love with this man, this boy that had no idea what he was getting himself into. But she was so angry with him choosing a demon over her.

Trying to juggle her keys, phone, and drink in hand, she managed to successfully unlock the motel door of the room they were sharing. Only to look up and to see Sam feeding on Ruby. Dropping her drink catches Sam’s attention, making him jerk away and poof, Ruby was gone. She couldn’t have believed what she had witnessed. It was like some sick sex act the two had engaged in with their clothes on.

“Y/N, I can-uh I can explain,” Sam says rising to his feet. Wiping away the red off his lips.

Without saying a word to him, she pushes past him and grabs her duffle. Preparing to leave him, and Dean for good. Too fed up with the situation. But as she turns to leave, Sam catches her arm in a tight grip.

“You can’t,” Sam whispers through choked tears.

“Not you too.” Sam had let a few tears stain his cheeks. Making her own throat become rock solid at the sight of the boy she loved crying.

“Then it has to stop Sammy,” she whispers to him. Barely meeting his eyes.

“You know I can’t,” he responds.

“I can’t keep doing this Sammy, play this mind games of yours. You’ve known that I love you yet you play me like a damn dog,” she replies. Her own tears brimming at all the turmoil she’s experienced.

Sammy sighs, dropping his head low.

“I know,” he whispers. His voice seemingly sounding broken.

“But you know that I’ve stayed away to protect you, that’s all I’m doing Y/N. I cant let you get consumed with me.” Sam’s voice was stern but warm.

“I would rather be consumed by you, or with you, then be away from you,” she responded, grabbing his chin to have him look towards her. Caressing his cheek, and whipping away the tears.

Sammy’s screams pull her out of her thoughts. Grabbing on to her left flannel pocket, squeezing. God, it truly hurt her heart to hear him.

“Y/N?” Sam calls out to her.

“Y/N!” Sam yells again. Pounding on the door of the panic room.

As she rose to try to comfort him somehow, the door to upstairs opens with Dean standing at the top of the stairs. Sam calls out to her again, and Dean shakes his head. Offering his hand to her.

“Dean, I-I can’t,” she says through choked tears.

“You need a break, Bobby has a bed made for you, please, I got this for a while.” Dean replies still holding out his hand.

She sighs, and begins to make her way upstairs, grabbing onto Dean’s hand as he helps her up. Bobby instructs her way to go, that it was safe. Nodding, she makes her way upstairs to take a short nap. That’s all she told herself, a short nap.

Closing her eyes, she opens them again.

Only to find herself sitting on a park bench. A head of her, was a younger version of herself. She remembered this day. She had snuck away from her father to meet Sam. She must’ve been 15 here. She watches herself closely. Smiling at the necklace her younger self was toying with. It was a simple single pearl necklace that Sam had managed to get to her.

But there was a sudden gust of wind, making her jump she realized that Castiel was next to her now.

“Really Cas?” She asked. This was a habit of the angel to check up on her sometimes when dreaming.

“I just wanted to see if you were alright.” Cas stated bluntly.

“Where are we?” He asks, looking around and then his eyes settling on her younger self siting on the play set steps.

“Shh, just watch.” She replies. Castiel nods in agreement.

“Hi angel,” Sam’s voice comes from behind her younger self, making her jump from her seat.

Turning around, she notices Sam holding a few picked road-side flowers in a make shift bouquet.

“Oh Sammy, they’re beautiful,” she gushes, grabbing them and giving them a sniff.

Sam sheepishly smiles at her, digging his hands deep in his pocket.

“I didn’t know Sam was like this.” Castiel states. Looking at her curiously. She sighs.

“He wasn’t always,” she replies. A twinkle of fondness rested on her voice.

The two of them watched as the younger Sam and her return to steps of the play set. The two younger versions chatting and getting caught up on their lives. At some point, Sam had made a bold move, and captured her hand in his, making younger her blush deeply.

She goes to turn to say something to Cas, only to see that he had left her dream without realizing. Shrugging her shoulders, she turns to see younger Sam in front of her.

“Y/N!” He screams.

Suddenly she sits up in the bed she was sleeping in. Movement down stairs makes her suspicious, prompting her to grab her gun from the bed side table, and she makes her way down. She hears commotion outside and opens the door to see Sammy had escaped and Bobby laying unconscious. Sammy holding on to the barrel of a shot gun that presumably Bobby had held.

“Sammy, come on, we just need to get you downstairs,” she tells him, gun still drawn.

“Are you kidding?” He scoffs, eyes wild and stricken.

“Sammy, please. I don’t want to hurt you,” she responds hoarsely. Tears threating to escape again.

A sickening laugh leaves Sam’s lips. The sound causing a rift in her stomach that made her feel like she was going to be sick.

“You’re not gunna hurt me?” Sam walks up to her.

Hesitantly, she closes her eyes and shoots towards his direction. Sam’s laugh echoes through the salvage yard as he grabs on to her gun. She begins to wrestle with him for control before the gun awkwardly slips from her grasp. Sam points the gun at her. Making her swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

“Do it.” She states harshly.

Sam cocks his head in confusion.

“You’d be totally fine with me doing this right now? Killing you?” He asks, and she nods in response.

“If you let me go, I will hunt you down Samuel.” She states harshly while starring into his eyes.

“Fine, come find me then.” Sam replies. Before she could respond, Sam’s fist comes flying towards her. Closing her eyes, she loses consciousness on impact.

The sound of a rusted car engine sputtering to life jolts her awake. Realizing she was on the graveled ground outside, she begins to push herself up. Just as a car comes flying by her. Confused, she looks to see Sam in the driver’s seat as he turns out of the drive way and booking it down the road. Gritting her teeth, she hobbles her way towards Bobby, hoping that the old man was still alive.

[entitled-fangirl]

His perfect little Cyar'ika.

Din D'jarin x reader

Summary: Mando had been gone too long, leaving the reader to worry. She has a breakdown, and he comes back in time to comfort her.

Words: 1,634

Warnings: Makeout session, sad thoughts, lots of crying (mostly from me, but the reader too, ig)

Author's note: This is now my all-time favorite one I've written and I stand by that.

Masterlist

.........................................................

It had been days.

Days since her Mandalorian had left on a hunt. She had patiently waited the four days he reassured her it’d be. Here she was on Day 6, anxiously awaiting his return. 

The sound of the child brought her from her thoughts.

She walked to the cot, picking him up. He was a sweet thing, his large eyes always looking at her in love. She was head over heels for this little guy. The day he would be returned to his kind would be the day she is ruined.

She walked with him for a bit until his breathing calmed, signaling he had fallen asleep. She gently set him down in his cot again, admiring his sleeping form.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there. She’s brought out from her thoughts again by the feeling of a tear running down her face. She’s crying, and she hadn’t even realized it. 

She walks away from the child’s sleeping area, not wanting to wake him. The door shuts behind her, but that’s as far as she makes it. She collapses on the hard metal floor of the ship, a loud sob leaving her lips.

She felt vulnerable. Alone. Scared. Anxious. Above all else, she just wanted her Mandalorian to return. She pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her forehead against them, letting the sobs comes out freely. 

Mando was an unusual man… if he was a man. She wasn’t sure what he was, but she knew he was strong and courageous. He had shown that time and time again. His heart, while shown as one of stone, was actually quite vulnerable and caring. She loved that about him. She loved his voice. She loved his mannerisms. She loved HIM.

She doesn’t hear the bay doors open to the ship. And she doesn’t hear Mando step up them. What she does hear is a soft, “Mesh’la?” His voice coming through the modulator.

Her head snaps up in fear and surprise. She’s ecstatic to see her Mando, but beyond that, embarrassed to be caught crying so harshly. She quickly stands, her hand wiping at her face. “I’m sorry, Mando. I’ll go get cleaned up,” she says, her voice broken by the hiccuping of her diaphragm.

She takes four steps before his gloved hand grabs her wrist. 

“No.”

She turns her body around to look at him. No? What did he mean? 

Mando wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he knew it felt right. His heart dropped at the sight of her body racked with her sobs. He worried about how long she had been like this. Her glossy eyes brought a dreaded feeling in his stomach he hadn’t felt before. But even then, her eyes puffy and red, her face covered in tears, she was still beautiful to him. She always had been. He wished he could rip his helmet off every day just to see her sweet features without the filter. Comfort wasn’t his strong suit, but he’d have to make do now.

A silence ensues as they stare at each other.

He’s the first to break. “Sit.”

It’s not a question. If it was a question, he’d have asked it differently. No, this is a command. She knows him well enough to know he only commands when they’re in danger, or he’s scared. But she also knows not to ignore his commands, so she does so, moving her body to sit on a nearby crate. 

He follows her, kneeling in front of her. “Mesh’la,” his voice comes through the helmet, “What has happened?”

She shakes her head, embarrassed to admit her faults. Her hands wipe at her face again, trying to keep her composure.

He heaves a sigh, barely heard by her. “Tell me.”

Another command. “I… it’s… it’s nothing. I was being childish… and… it… I’m sorry…” A soft sob raked through her body, as hard as she had tried to fight it.

His hand comes up to rest on her leg, a silent sign of comfort from him, but also a sign to continue.

This makes her weep, letting out all of the feelings she was trying to bottle up. “You... you left… and I was… I tried… you didn’t come back and I… worried… I was so worried…,” each sentence stopped by a hiccup.

If only she could see the smile under his mask. “Mesh’la, you worried for me?”

The tears didn’t stop, and it didn’t seem that they would be stopping anytime soon. He did what his head told him to, as ridiculous as it sounded. But she needed something to ground her, and fast.

He pulled a glove off of his hand and took her hand in his, rubbing the top of her hand gently.

She stared in disbelief at him. “The... your… your code…?”

He said nothing, still rubbing small circles on her hand.

He thought it would help, but it didn’t seem to because she continued to cry. His mind went into overdrive.

He pulled her from the crate gently and into his lap. His arms wrapped around her shaking frame as he pushed her gently into his armor. 

She gladly accepted, resting her head in the crook of his neck between two plates of beskar.

He closes his eyes at the feeling. Only a piece of fabric separates her skin from touching his. Never in his life had he considered breaking the code. But if keeping it meant a life without her, then by god would he break it. 

His ungloved hand ran through her hair before his calm voice came back, “close your eyes.”

She lifted her head up. “..w…what?” She sniffled.

His gloved hand touched her cheek. “Close your eyes, Mesh’la. Trust me.”

She does so without another word. She was a sweet thing. He was so corrupt. He worried he may ruin her. But he couldn’t worry about that now.

He checked to make sure her eyes were closed before both of his hands reached up, taking off his helmet carefully.

More tears escaped from her closed eyes, but she heard the sound, and she knew what he was doing. “Mando?”

A soft kiss is pressed to her neck.

“Din.”

A sharp breath from her, “What?”

She feels his smile against her neck. “Din. I’m not Mando to you anymore. Not ever again.” His lips move up her neck towards her jaw, placing a light kiss there.

She lets out a soft breath, relaxing in his touch. His scruff lightly scratched at her as his lips trailed to her face. He pulled back suddenly, his touch gone. She longed to open her eyes, but she knew better.

He simply stared at her beautiful face. God, was she a beauty. He stared at her enough with the helmet but now? He never wanted to put it on again. He wondered if her eyes were as bright as he imagined. She was perfect. His perfect little Cyar’ika.

She sat still, focusing on her breathing. Staring at the back of her eyelids was never really a difficult prompt until she was put into this situation. She didn’t know what he was thinking, and she couldn’t see his face to know. She couldn’t even look at his body language. She was completely blind and it worried her. 

Perhaps he was regretting what he was doing. Maybe he was thinking about what planet he should leave her on now that she’s caught feelings. But the silence in the room was killing her.

He was in heaven. If heaven was real, this was it for him. Her beautiful face her in front of him, seeking his comfort. Worried for him. God, she was worried for him. No one had ever said such words, and his heart was overjoyed when they were muttered. 

She broke the silence, her voice soft and worried, “D…Din?”

He couldn’t take it anymore. His ungloved hand moved to the back of her head quickly, pulling her in for a kiss. The other hand rested on her hip.

She jumped at the feeling, his facial hair tickling her face. It took a few moments to register what was happening before she began to kiss him back.

She wanted to run her fingers through his hair. Pull at it. Rest her hands on his face. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t overstep his boundaries.

God, he wanted her to overstep all his boundaries. His other hand moved to one of hers, pulling it up his torso to his face.

It’s like he could read the girl’s mind. The one hand resting on his cheek, feeling the scruff there, while the other found its way to the base of his neck, pulling at the soft curls that lay there.

He groaned. He had never had this feeling before. She was perfect, so perfect. He would let her ruin him any day.

She was the first to pull away, out of breath. She panted, her eyes still closed, her lips puffy and face slightly red.

He was smiling brighter than the sun.

“Thank you, Cyar’ika.”

She let out a soft groan. His voice was so beautiful. It’s as if he had hung the moon for her. “For what, Din?”

She could hear the smile in his voice for the first time ever, “I’m not quite sure.”

The sound of the child crying brought them both to reality. He let out a content sigh, reaching for his helmet. 

He couldn’t wait to take it off again.

[pubbybutch]

i don’t know if this is a weird request but it’s also my first one.

but i had the idea of abby coming home from a long shift at work, and she finds reader trying to make themself cum?

it just popped into my head and i need it to come to life 🙏🙏

No anon cause I love this trope so much, thank you for trusting me with your first request (ur doing great sweetie!)

(Hope you don’t mind an AU btw <3)

Word Count: 1600 (technically not a drabble ig)

CW: Doctor AU, Abby is a sexy doctor, Strap usage (R! Receiving), AFAB reader, Feminine nicknames used, cowgirl position, tried to keep it race/ethnicity inclusive, mentions of Abby trying to keep you healthy and sleeping well.

No Minors, Men, or general Cunts.

If you see spelling mistakes, no you didn’t. 💚

Abby is tired. And pissed off. But mainly she’s tired, with sore feet and a pounding headache, not helped by the wind howling outside the car causing the rain to beat down heavily on the wind screen. From having to prevent a kid with a broken arm from crying a flood as he called his mom to stopping the blood pouring out of a woman’s intimate parts in the emergency department. It was a very long day.

After running into the house from her now parked car, she pushes the trainers off her feet and takes in the dark hallway, walking back into the kitchen she notices a plate of chilli chicken and rice with a little sticky note attached to the cling film covering the food, ‘gone to bed, eat before you come up <3’ .

She smiled at the note and placed the food in the microwave, yawning as she watched the orange glow and the spinning of the plate in the little metal box. Bed couldn’t come soon enough, but she definitely wasn’t going to face the wrath of a wife scorned by her not eating her delicious food. Made with love, by her love. The blonde was always a bit love struck when sleep deprived.

Inhaling the food and making the executive decision to leave the dishes until the morning, the blonde trudges up the stairs with her feet heavy and her head even heavier. It’s not until she gets to the top of the stairs does she hear the creaking of a bed and hushed whimpers coming from your shared bedroom. She pulls her phone from her pocket and checks the time, ‘00:37’. You should be fast asleep by now.

Peaking her head around the door, not even having to push it open due to you leaving it ajar, she captures what can only be described as a beautiful sight. Abbys pretty little wife lays there. With one of your hands pumping her fingers in and out of your sopping wet cunt with such force your breasts and tummy jiggle lightly with each movement. Your other hand draped over your eyes, shielding you from Abby’s piercing blue gaze. She stands there and watches, leaning against the door frame, enjoying the view and appreciating every little huff and moan leaving your lips.

Finally deciding you’d had enough fun, Abby clears her throat. You jump. Your hand pulls away from your cunt, a shiver running through you as your body yearns to be full again.

“Mrs Anderson,” Abby starts, “you couldn’t wait for me to come home, could you?” Despite her phrasing, it is not a question. It’s an order.

The blonde continues, “Did I not tell you that you were to catch up on sleep, Mrs Anderson?” She tilts her head this time, prompting you to answer. “Yes, Abby…”

“And did you follow the doctor’s orders, pumpkin?”

“No, Abby.” The heat rising up your neck and slithering across your cheeks is a dead give away to Abby as she takes your face in one of her hands, her long, thick thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your cheekbone.

“Since you’re already up, it must mean you’re not tired? Am I right, sweetheart?” The blonde releases you face and takes a step backwards to take all of you in once more.

“Abby I-”

She interrupts you, “Well. Im tired. I’ve had a very long day, sweetheart so if you want to get off, it’s on my terms, we got a deal?” As she speaks she shrugs off her undershirt and undoes the button on her jeans. She watches as you nod and reach out for her, arms outstretched and hands making little grabby motions to try and get her close again. Be grudgingly she steps forward and out of the jeans pooling around her ankles.

Abby is left in her boxer briefs and a white cotton bra as she wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you away from the center of the bed and dropping you on the edge of the mattress. Gripping your chin and pulling your face so that your gaze meets hers, she smirks down at you. “Stay there. Don’t move okay, baby?”

You nod and watch as she goes to the build in wardrobe, her broad shoulders flexing as a hand moves to take the elastic band from the end of her braid, as her hand reaches into the drawer looking for something.

With her hair loose and a harness in her hands Abby slides the leather straps over her hips and into place. Turning back to you, you’re able to see the cock she’s chosen. As she walks forward you come face to phallus with nine inches of dark purple silicone. “You wanna get it wet for me, baby?”

Instead of answering, you slip a hand around the harness and pull her close enough so you can take her length into your mouth. Abby smiles warmly as she watches you only managing to get about half way down the strap, her blue eyes creasing at the edges as you wrap your hand around what you can’t fit in and start rubbing along the shaft. The sight sends a low moan rumbling from Abby’s chest. With a pop, your mouth lets go of the blonde’s cock as she takes a step back and watches as a line of spit connecting the silicone to your bruised lips breaks.

Abby kisses your forehead and sits down on the bed beside you, a blink and you’ll miss it ‘good girl’ falls from her lips as she situates herself against the pillows at the head of the bed. Her finger makes a curling motion, calling you over. Sliding up to sit next her, a hand grips your hips, “Get on top, sweetheart.”

“Abby, I want you to be on top-”

“And I want to go to bed, but since you’re being a needy little brat and not waiting for me to come home before fucking yourself.” She gives your hips a squeeze and continues, “And not listening to me when I tell you that you need more sleep. So now, you’re going to get to cum, but on my grounds. On doctors orders. Okay, baby?”

You nod and move to get straddle Abby’s hips, only to have her reach up and yank you down by the nape of your neck. “I said ‘okay, baby?’ It wasn’t rhetorical.”

“Okay Abby.” She kisses you square on the the lips and let’s you climb up on to her hips, she leans back and watches as you line yourself up with her cock and lower yourself onto the plastic. A tight smirk graces the blonde’s face as she listens intently on the hasty breaths you give out as you become re-accustomed to the stretch that this particular dildo always gives you. As you move your hips up and down, mewls and pants come flooding from your mouth. That knotting tension that never truly left your abdomen from your solo session had returned with what can only be described as a vengeance.

Bouncing up and down on Abby’s cock, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer. Blue eyes scan your whole body, one large rough hand resting on your hip as it helps guide your movements, the other holding one of your tits squeezing the flesh and every so often tugging the hardened nipple as her thumb ran over the sensitive flesh.

Abby’s hips remain surprisingly still, despite your pleas and begging, her stance stays unwavering. This entire session was most definitely on her grounds. Though her body remains relaxed yet unmoving, Abby’s eyes are burning with intensity you can clearly see it, the bubbling want and desperation underneath the stoney exterior.

“Abby-” you huff, exhaustion hits as your desperate moans are met with nothing but raised eyebrows and the occasional ‘yes, princess’.

“I wanna cum, please can I?”

“You’re asking permission, baby? And without being told, oh sweetheart, you can cum anytime you want.”

Without another word your hips slam down against Abby’s, the strap hitting impossibly deep inside as you cum, you rest on top of her. Folding over, you find your head resting underneath your wife’s chin as thick fingers come to the back of your head and her short nails give gentle scratches to your scalp, relaxing you further into the blonde’s firm, broad chest.

Pulling yourself away from Abby and off of her hips you see a creamy ring coating the hilt of the strap as you pull away from your wife. A heat rises to your cheeks once more as Abby sits up properly in the bed and yanks you down into her arms. “Thank you, baby. You did so good.”

Snuggling into her side, you kiss her cheek and strong square jawline as she loosens and slides the harness from her hips.

“Long day, doctor?” Your teasing brings a soft tired smile to Abby’s face as she lets herself yawn. “Like you wouldn’t believe, sweetheart.”

She turns to you, blue eyes staring into yours, deep icy pools that hold such love in them you can’t imagine them ever being cold, “I’m sorry if I was too pushy.”

You laugh and pull the covers up to surround the two of you, “Abigail. We have a safe word for a reason.”

“I know it’s just that-”

You shut her up with a kiss, and once you break it she seems to be content that you had enjoyed the evening, even before she got home. Content and with reassurance, Abby falls asleep and her little wife too.

☘️🦖☘️🦖☘️🦖☘️

Remember Reblogs make the World Go Round

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN 💚

[stiltonbasket]

how does the indoctrination camp go in the fem!wwx au?

"Lan Zhan."

No answer.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian says again, laying a hesitant hand on Lan Zhan's shoulder. "Say something, Lan Zhan. Please?"

The huddled mass of white robes at her side shifts; and then, a large, dark eye fixes itself upon Wei Wuxian, glaring at her with such fury that she jumps backward in surprise.

"Don't look at me like that," she entreats. "I had to come, Lan Zhan. I had to see if you were all right, and Jiang Cheng..."

Her voice dies away, stymied by the scarlet rings at the rims of Lan Zhan's eyes; and then her intended lets out a scoff, and turns back to face the rock wall at his left.

"I'm not sorry! If I hadn't come, you'd have been all alone here! All on your own, with a broken leg!" Wei Wuxian shouts, barely resisting the impulse to reach out and shake Lan Zhan's thin shoulders. "Mianmian would have been branded. She might have lost her sight, Lan Zhan! That's the truth, no matter what you think about it, so don't you dare ignore me! Were you going to splint your own leg, when it was like that? Were you going to help the others drive the Xuanwu off on your own? There must be some limit to hard-headedness, even yours—and you haven't even married me yet, so you've no right to—"

"You should not have come," Lan Zhan says quietly. "If you were a man, I...I would not have objected, in spite of the risk. But as things stand, none of our party were in greater danger than you. Not even Luo-guniang."

Wei Wuxian's blood runs cold. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Lan Zhan hisses, "that you are a lady, and that men of Wen Chao's ilk turn to one thing alone when they find themselves thwarted by a woman! Worse still if the woman happens to be beautiful, as you are! It does not matter that you could wring his neck with both hands tied behind you if you faced him in a fair fight—what will that do, when the huadan shou need only touch your lower dantian to destroy your golden core?

"Wen Chao is a wretched creature—he is nothing, and worth nothing—and he cannot abide that knowledge, so he is ten times the danger to you that Wen Ruohan might be! If he saw your face under the paint and realized that you were a girl, the same girl who defied him at the Cloud Recesses, then—!"

He bows his head, making a sharp, harsh sound that reminds Wei Wuxian of the frogs that dwell in the swamp near Lotus Pier; and as the sound goes on, Wei Wuxian realizes that Lan Zhan is weeping.

"You were worried about me?" she asks at length, after Lan Zhan seems to be done crying. "All this time?"

"If I had not been so determined to protect you," he says drearily, "I would have dropped dead of fright the moment I saw you walking through the gates."

And then, softly:

"Did Father-in-law send you to keep Jiang-gongzi company?"

"What? Of course not," Wei Wuxian snorts. "If it were up to him, Uncle would have tied me to the railing of Shijie's leisure pavilion to make me stay put. But I had to go, so I railed and shouted for three days before A-Cheng left; and after he was gone, I shut myself up in my room until nightfall and pretended I'd changed my mind when Uncle tried to reason with me at dinner. The next morning, I packed a traveling kit and followed the boats on Suibian."

"Yuefu and Sister-in-law must be terrified."

"En," Wei Wuxian agrees, her insides squirming uneasily at the reminder of Jiang Yanli: for her Shijie must have been the first person to notice that Wei Wuxian had left Lotus Pier. "Even so, they must have known my going along would give Jiang Cheng a better chance of coming back in one piece. A-Cheng fights well, and he can go on without a rest for nearly as long as I can; but he's terrible at working his way out of things, and..."

Lan Zhan moves a little closer to her. "And what?"

"I knew I'd be needed here," she murmurs. "I had an inkling—and I was right. I could have relied on you to protect the others, but I already suspected that you'd been injured when you didn't write back to me at the end of last month. You wouldn't need to be driven to the brink to rebel against Wen Chao; and when I heard that Gusu Lan had agreed to join the indoctrination, I knew something must have gone wrong.

"If the choice were left to you, Lan Zhan, you'd have slaughtered your way out on two broken legs before you let the likes of Wen Chao take you as a prisoner. So I suppose—well, I suppose—"

Lan Zhan stares at Wei Wuxian in bewilderment.

"What do you suppose? I do not follow."

"I would have come for you either way," she tells him. "Even if Jiang Cheng had remained at Lotus Pier, I'd have come to see you."

At that, his hand tightens its grip upon hers. Idly, Wei Wuxian notes that their palms are almost exactly the same size, matching one another bone for bone from their wrists to the tips of their fingers: though this does not surprise her, since Wei Wuxian is unusually tall for a girl of eighteen.

Were they holding hands ten minutes ago? Wei Wuxian doubts it, since he only just stopped being angry with her; but now, as his pulse begins to beat in double time against her skin, Wei Wuxian is somehow certain that she and Lan Zhan had entered the Xuanwu's cave with their fingers tightly entwined between them.

"There's no way out of here, save past the Xuanwu," Wei Wuxian says at last, gazing dimly at their joined palms. "We'll have to lure it out of its hiding place and leave through the tunnel while it's distracted."

"Mm, I know. But we will need strength, and your burn needs healing. Before we do anything else, we must sleep."

Wei Wuxian nods and lies wearily back against his shoulder. A moment later, she realizes that Lan Zhan has fallen asleep, and no wonder: for judging by the moonlight filtering down from the fist-sized hole in the roof of the cave, haishi must have already come and gone.

Despite herself, Wei Wuxian nearly bursts out laughing.

And then she too is fast asleep; and although she is weaponless, and wounded, her dreams go untouched by any shadow of the peril awaiting them both on the morrow.

[itsabouttimex2]

Can you do escape attempt headcanons with the bullfam?? I’ve been reading your headcanons lately n they’re literally so good 😭😭!!

Bullfam

Escape Attempt Headcanons

Out of this powerful trio, I think Red Son would notice the soonest that you’ve gone out of bounds. With how likely it is that you’re wearing a collar (of his own design) with the sigil of the Bull Clan emblazoned on it, it’s very probable that he has a tracking device on you. Even if you don’t have a collar, there’s always bracelets, phones, shoes… plenty of places to snap an unassuming tracker.

So if you somehow do manage to escape, your foray back into the familiar streets of Megapolis is bound to be cut short in record time.

Red corners you as by sharply rounding the curve of an alleyway, slamming into you hard. As you stumble and fall, the prince snatches a wrist or leg (whatever’s easier) and pulls until he’s dragged you roughly across half the concrete-paved block. After your whimpers and begging turn to pained screams, the half-taurine demon blazes up a runic portal and tosses you in.

Jumping in mere seconds after, Red Son surveys the scene before that unfurls before him.

You lay curled up on the plush purple carpet sobbing into your hand as blood oozes slowly down the road rash torn across your back.

As it always does, a cold regret seeps slowly through his veins at the sight of your suffering.

Red Son hasn’t come to realize something very important to him yet- he hates hurting you.

The prince explodes in a fit of fiery wrath, lashes out, hurts you- then stews in remorse and self-anger. An uncontrollable and ever-raging wildfire that torches even that which is dearest to him.

This is the part of himself he hates the most.

The part he can’t stop from hurting you.

Damage control is the most he can manage after these little fits.

“…come on, Y/N. I’ll get the bandages.”

Oh, boy. Absolutely not. I mean, you can try. Really, feel free. Go for it.

What’s a few broken bones or bloody gashes in return for a brief glance of sunlight? For a singular breath of fresh air?

Okay, so the Demon Bull King isn’t exactly itching to hurt you. You wouldn’t be locked up inside his foundry like a fragile antique if he just wanted to grind you into a bloody smear on the concrete (that’s his son’s job) or pop you like a swollen tick. If he’s got you bolted into a nice little guest room with a Bull Clone, it because this big lumbering warlord actually and honestly cares about you.

Probably, the king sees you as a sort of “youngest child” naive and soft and so very malleable.

So the aspect of “protecting what is his” applies very strongly as the taurine demon catches sight of you fleeing, mild yellow eyes narrowing into glowing pools of fury.

This man is fast- we’ve seen it in canon. Also, his “on all fours” run?? Seeing that coming right at you, clearing miles in literal seconds??

You give up, hit the ground, and go still- if only because you’re entirely unsure of whether or not he’d actually be willing to actual physical contact at such high speeds and atomize the lower half of your body.

Instead, you allow him to corner your cowering form, not struggling as two clawed fingers pluck you off the ground. He’s too angry to even speak- and instead just fold his powerful claws around you, and the begins to stomp home.

You’ve earned yourself a custom-made metal shackle, to be worn through all through the day and night, paired with reduced rations and limited access to water.

But at least he hasn’t harmed you.

Yeah, okay. From everything we’ve seen, Princess Iron Fan is basically… unflappable and unstoppable? I can’t actually remember her directly losing a fight outside of the Sworn Brotherhood when they had the ink scroll. She’s powerful, intelligent, patient… I can’t imagine many ways to truly “get one over on her”.

An enchantment on your nape that prevents travel past a certain area. A magical tracking device planted under your skin. Cursed jewelry that tightens when you disobey. Mystical statues with strange eyes that track your every movement and spring to life when you make for the door.

It’s not happening.

You can try- Iron Fan doesn’t intervene with your escape attempts. You’re bound to fail one way or the other. Why should she waste her energy when your efforts are worthless to begin with?

At least watching your desperate struggles and harebrained schemes puts her in good mood- there’s something about your frustrated tears that she finds all too cute.

[cherienymphe]

Sweater Weather (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, jealousy, brother’s best friend, stalking, Heyward!reader, mentions of Topper x reader, non canon ages, underage drinking, drug use, reader is kind of mean

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @silkholland​​

summary: your brother’s best friend takes it upon himself to butt into your life when he catches you the last place you’re supposed to be.

~

You stopped yourself mid laugh at the sound of your name being called by the last person you expected. You could hear your friend’s laughter dying too, in curiosity, no doubt. It was a man’s voice, the tone clipped and angry, and by the look on your face, she no doubt could tell that it was the last person—or the second to last person—you wanted to see.

You had snuck out of the house before your parents had even gone to bed, wearing something that your dad would have a stroke at if he saw it. It was a Saturday night, so there was no shortage of parties taking place on the island. Pope had mentioned something about some get together on the beach…and that was why you’d made your way to a house party your friend was going to.

The last thing you’d anticipated was to come face to face with JJ Maybank, a blunt in your hand and way too much alcohol in your system.

The blonde didn’t look happy in the slightest to see you, something you found funny. JJ wasn’t your friend, but it didn’t mean that his reputation didn’t precede him on the island. He got into more trouble than anyone you knew, smoked more weed than anyone you knew, and got drunk more than anyone you knew. So, you were more than a little miffed when he reached out to snatch the blunt from your fingers.

“What are you doing here?”

You could feel your friend awkwardly shift on the couch you both were sitting on.

“What are you doing here?”

He, and Pope, were supposed to be on the beach, and you nervously glanced behind him.

“Uh uh. I asked you first,” he said, and your friend mumbled out some excuse before making a great escape.

You couldn’t blame her. Pope tended to get annoyingly overprotective at times, and where JJ went, your brother was rarely far behind. She didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of the drama, and you envied her. As you sighed, you wished you could trade places.

“What does it look like? I’m at the same party you’re at,” you said almost scathingly, standing.

“…and that’s kinda funny because Pope said you were at home asleep.”

You rolled your eyes at that, pausing and frowning when the blond took a hit of your blunt. You crossed your arms over your chest, glancing behind him again, and it didn’t go unnoticed. JJ scoffed, shaking his head at you.

“It’s just me,” he said, answering your silent question. “The party on the beach got broken up. Pope decided to call it a night, but I wasn’t quite done, so…”

He threw his arms up, still fixing you with a look that made you bristle.

“Can I have that back, please?” you sternly asked.

“No, actually, you can’t,” JJ spat, holding his hand away. “What are you doing here? …and with this. Are you drunk?”

You slapped his hand away when he reached for your eye, frowning at him.

“I’m not going to stand here and get some lecture from JJ of all people about smoking and drinking and partying-.”

“You are when you’re my best friend’s baby sister.”

You huffed at that, pushing past him. You didn’t get very far, and you looked down at the hand on your arm like it was the most offensive thing in the world before lifting your gaze to meet JJ’s. You could count the number of times on one hand you’d seen JJ with a serious look on his face, no humor in sight. Your frown deepened, and a sinking feeling settled in your chest as you realized that he was indeed very serious and not just trying to stir up drama.

“Do you know what Pope would do to me if he knew I saw you here and didn’t do anything?”

“JJ-.”

“No,” he cut you off. “I’m taking you home. Now.”

Your lips parted, but JJ was already pulling you through the house before you could say anything. When you looked over your shoulder, your eyes caught your friend’s, and you both sent each other apologetic glances. The blonde’s hold was tight on your wrist, and you angrily eyed the back of him. JJ looked like he’d been drinking and smoking his damn self, and his sudden interest in morality where you were concerned was upsetting.

“I’m not a child, you know,” you mumbled once you were outside.

He paused by his bike, turning to meet your gaze. He stared into your eyes for a moment before he dragged his gaze over you, taking you in from head to toe, and despite the fact that you’d been getting similar looks all night, you didn’t like it as much, now. The look in the blonde’s eyes almost made you feel ashamed of your top and the shorts you were wearing.

You shuddered, and he noticed.

“Cold?” he mockingly wondered, and you pursed your lips as you watched him reach for his hoodie.

You softly thanked him as you took it, pulling it over your head. It was much cooler now than when you’d left the house, and you were grateful. You hesitated in climbing on the back of his bike, wondering about the chances of you losing him if you just took off. You didn’t doubt he wouldn’t even catch you, but the chances of him snitching to Pope were great.

At least this way, you still had a chance to at least try and get him to keep quiet about this.

You’d ridden on the back of a bike before, namely when you weren’t supposed to while with guys you shouldn’t be with. Another blond came to mind as you wrapped your arms around JJ’s waist, feeling so much like a child as he pulled off.

You and Pope were as close as your average sibling pair, but when it came to your personal lives, you preferred to keep them separate, and with good reason. Pope had his fair share of fun, sure, but his idea of fun and yours were very different. Sometimes he smoked weed and was breaking into some property he wasn’t supposed to be on, but he and his friends mostly just surfed and caused some light mischief for the law here and there.

Your version of fun was skinny dipping in some asshole’s pool or snorting coke in the back of  Topper Thornton’s jeep or partying so late that the sun was just peeking over the horizon when you finally snuck back into your room. Going to school with your brother and growing up with the parents you had, your years in high school were spent playing it safe and being the good and dutiful daughter. To say that you’d gone a little crazy since you graduated was a bit of an understatement.

You didn’t miss the disappointed look on JJ’s face when he finally made it to your house, climbing off of his bike with you.

JJ heaved a sigh, sounding like he’d aged fifteen years in fifteen minutes.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

You frowned at that, not liking his tone, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You shuffled on your feet, glancing away with a shrug.

“What do you mean-?”

“You know what I mean,” he harshly interrupted, looking at you like you were a stranger. “You think Pope doesn’t know that you sneak out sometimes?”

Your face fell at that, and you blinked.

“You don’t think he hears things? You don’t think we all do?”

The concern in JJ’s blue eyes had you feeling bad, and your shoulders sagged a little.

“He doesn’t say a thing because he wants you to want to talk to him. He doesn’t want to scare you into doing anything worse just to spite him,” he spat, sounding angrier with every word. “He really cares about you, we all do, and you don’t really seem to give a fuck all for the sake of having some fun.”

You swallowed, and JJ scoffed.

“…and I get it. What right do I have to give you shit about anything, but I don’t know. The least you could do is be honest about where you’re going, and who you’re going to be with. You wanna be treated like a grown up so badly…?”

The blond raised an eyebrow at you.

“…well, grown-ups are honest. Adults don’t lie and sneak around, and act like the very kid they claim they’re not.”

The silence that followed was loud, and you blinked, surprised at the burn you felt behind your eyes. JJ turned away from you, climbing back onto his bike, shaking his head at you. You didn’t miss the way he drank you in again, eyes raking over your frame, and it was then that you just remembered you were still wearing his hoodie.

However, he’d started up his bike before you could say anything, and you were forced to watch JJ drive off, feeling confused and guilty for the first time in months.

“Isn’t that JJ?”

You whipped around so fast it was a wonder you didn’t twist your neck. Your friends’ laughter could be heard in your ears, and sure enough, a familiar blond was just down the beach. It was really bright out, but you’d recognize him anywhere. Oddly enough, he was alone, and even odder, he was looking right in your direction.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, and you could hear your friends giggling as you left.

Truthfully, you didn’t see what they saw. Objectively, yeah, you guessed that JJ was attractive, but you’d watched him awkwardly grow up with your brother, and you couldn’t really see him beyond that, to be honest. Now, that he seemed to be taking it upon himself to be your own parole officer or something? You definitely couldn’t see what they saw.

“Are you following me?” you wondered, getting straight to the point as soon as you reached him.

JJ didn’t answer right away, running his hand through his hair, pushing the blond strands away from his face. In true fashion, they flopped back down, messily, and he took a deep breath.

“Not really…no.”

“Not really? Or no? …because that’s two different answers,” you told him.

Before he could respond, an unfamiliar brunette came up at his side, looking between you both with a curious gaze. The sight of her stumped you, and you suddenly felt a little silly. JJ cleared his throat, throwing you a tight disingenuous smile.

“You know Pope’s sister,” he halfway introduced, and she smiled, recognition lighting up her eyes.

“Oh, hey! I’ve seen you around a few times, for sure. You’re not crashing our date, are you?”

Her tone was light and teasing, but you knew there was a hint of seriousness there.

“No,” you breathed, looking between them and resting your gaze on JJ. “He is all yours. Trust me…”

You turned away from them, but you couldn’t resist throwing JJ a scathing look over your shoulder as you rejoined your friends. You simply brushed it off when they asked what that was about, unable to muster up the energy to even halfway go into detail about JJ’s newfound desire to watch over you like a hawk.

It was why hours later, you turned down a party invite in favor of getting high with a familiar blond.

“What? He’s like…acting like your brother now, or something?”

“Worse,” you scoffed, leaning over and snorting a line of coke off the back of his hand. “Pope isn’t even this bad, but let JJ tell it, Pope knows and is worried.”

You’d tried not to think about that night when JJ had dropped you off, giving you the dressing down you probably needed, but you didn’t want to hear it. Not once had you ever cared what Pope did, but then again, he’d never bothered to include you. Deep down, you knew that you were a little sour about that, and maybe JJ was right in guessing there was some spite fueling your choices as of late. You brushed your finger under your nose, and you heard Topper do a line too.

“Maybank trying to police anybody’s choices is laughable,” the Kook drawled, finding the thought funny as he chuckled. “Believe me, that Pogue’s done worse than you ever could.”

You licked your lips, looking out of his window with a sigh.

Sometimes you didn’t like the way Topper spoke about people from your side of the island. You’d known what he was like long before you’d let him kiss you one night, drunk out of your mind, but somehow it hadn’t been a concern then. It typically wasn’t when you had some kind of substance in you, but seeing as you were still sober and waiting for your high to kick in, his tone made your stomach twist.

“You’re not like them though,” he mumbled, as if he could read your thoughts, and you felt his finger graze your leg. “You’re different, and…you’re just having fun.”

You didn’t have a response for that, and when you felt his touch trail higher, you straightened.

“Do you mind driving me back home? I’m kind of tired,” you whispered.

When you looked at Top, you could see that your words had shocked him a little, but he licked his lips and nodded, nonetheless. After all, you’d only snorted a few lines not even twenty minutes ago, but for some reason, you didn’t feel up to entertaining anything tonight. As you both hopped out of his backseat, you wondered what you even saw in Topper to even allow yourself to start hooking up with him in the first place.

It wasn’t often, but it happened enough to where he definitely expected something any time you met up with him.

You supposed you couldn’t blame him. There was that time at the party, and then in his pool, and then another party, and then the beach. At least you could tell yourself that it could be worse, that it could be Rafe, but it didn’t really matter all that much because your brother would kill you either way if he knew just who you were spending your time with some days.

You didn’t even think you liked Topper, and you frowned as you moved to get in the passenger seat.

Just then, you heard your name being called by the last person you expected, and reminiscent of that night at the party, you turned with wide eyes. Topper was parked near the beach, and over the sound of ocean waves, JJ’s voice was loud and clear. Your lips parted as you saw him storming towards you both, and you sharply inhaled.

“What the hell?”

If you’d thought that JJ sounded angry that night of the party, it was nothing compared to how he sounded, now. You couldn’t find any words to defend yourself as he neared Topper’s car, his scandalized gaze focused on you and the ocean breeze ruffling his hair.

“What are you doing here with him? At one in the morning?”

The accusation in his tone wasn’t lost on you, and you swallowed, finally about to speak when Topper spoke up instead.

“Hey, man, I’m just dropping her off at home,” Topper told him, hands raised in a friendly manner despite the small smirk dancing along his pink lips.

JJ noticed it too, and you finally spoke up when he came closer.

“Go home, JJ,” you said, almost pleadingly.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because he rounded on you with no hesitation. You stumbled back as he reached for you, and you pushed at his chest, but it was of no use. Like that night, his hand was tight on your wrist, and you glared at him just as Topper tried to let him go.

“JJ, let her go,” Topper tried to reason with him, but the other blond ignored him.

“Go home? You should be at home,” he spat at you. “Or at least not with him.”

“You’re not my dad, and you’re not my brother-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when JJ reached out to shove Topper away when the Kook tried to get him to let you go. You looked between them both with wide eyes. Topper because the coke was going to kick in at any minute now, and JJ because he was…well…JJ. You stepped between them both before it could go any further, heart skipping a beat at the turn the night had taken.

“JJ, stop it,” you hissed, looking between his eyes.

His chest brushed against yours as he leaned in, face contorted in anger as he shook his head at you.

“Do you know what Pope would say if he knew you were hanging out with him? What he would do?”

“I think what she does is her business, JJ,” Topper drawled, and you rolled your eyes at the mirth you heard there.

“Top, please,” you sighed.

You didn’t need him making this worse, and just wanting to be home, you chose the easiest route of the night. You turned to Topper with a sheepish look, gaze pleading.

“I’ll be fine, Topper. JJ can take me home,” you quietly told him.

The spoiled rich kid didn’t look so sure, giving you a questioning look, and you tilted your head at him. Topper wasn’t much more than a coping mechanism for you, but you did think he cared about you in some way, even if only just a little bit. It was clear he didn’t feel right about leaving you with JJ, but as annoying as your brother’s best friend was turning out to be, you trusted him. His methods weren’t the best, but you had to admit that his intentions were pure even if they did grate on your nerves.

“Alright,” Topper eventually said, glancing at JJ again before running his hand over your shoulder.

The silence was thick as you and JJ watched him get in his jeep, and only when he was gone did you finally return your attention to the only remaining male.

“Are you crazy?” he finally demanded, and you turned away from him.

“No, but you must be if you think you have any right to tell me who I can and can’t hang out with.”

You could feel the drugs kicking in about, now, and you mentally cursed. You could hear JJ right behind you as you paced, and he scoffed.

“Is that what you’re calling it? Hanging out?”

You pulled your lip between your teeth, giving him a look, but it withered under his own stare. JJ had never been all that intimidating to you, at least not until now, and you swallowed. He looked angry and confused and worried all in one, arms crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his shirt cut off to give you a view of them as the muscles tightened.

“How long have you been fucking him?”

The question came so suddenly, his tone venomous, and as he asked it, it was hard to place the glint in his eye. You narrowed your eyes at JJ.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

“Do you have any idea who he’s friends with? The kind of shit they get up to?”

As he said that, he took a good look at your eyes, and a small furrow appeared between his brows.

“Are you…high?”

“Since when is that a crime? You get high all the time-.”

“Yeah, but I have a feeling your high isn’t from some weed,” he spat, reaching up to wipe your nose.

You hadn’t even felt it bleeding, and a guilty feeling washed over you as you wiped your nose too. You sniffed, refusing to meet his eye, but you could feel the heavy weight of his stare.

“Is that why you’re screwing Topper Thornton? For coke?”

“JJ-.”

“What’s to stop me from telling Pope any of this? Huh?”

You froze, holding his gaze, now.

“…and what would stop him from telling your parents?”

Your heart sank at that, and you took a deep breath.

“JJ…it’s really none of your business,” you sighed.

“Bullshit!”

“Why do you care?” you screamed.

“…because I care about you!”

His voice held less venom now and more desperation, and he frowned like he couldn’t understand you.

“You’re my best friend’s little sister, and you’re shocked that I’m worried when I see you sneaking out and doing coke with guys like Topper and his friends? When I see you messing around with guys like that?”

You felt too high for this conversation, and you dragged your hands down your face. You felt JJ grab them, much closer now, and pulling you closer too. When he forced you to look at him, past every other emotion on his face, you could see concern most of all. You tried to remind yourself that JJ was just worried about you, and rightfully so, you guessed. You could feel his thumbs brushing against your skin as he held your arms.

“Why are you hanging around guys like that?” he whispered, almost too low for you to hear, and you didn’t really have an answer for him.

“Just…take me home, JJ,” you breathed.

“No, I want an answer-.”

“Well, I don’t have one for you! I’m sorry, but I don’t,” you said, snatching your hands away.

You both stood in silence for what felt like too long before he finally guided you towards his bike with a huff. You didn’t miss the way JJ’s hand rested on the back of your neck the whole way like he was afraid you’d run off. Despite the two-year age difference, you felt like a scolded child in his presence.

All of the lights were off when you finally made it home, and when you climbed off of his bike, you sheepishly thanked him. Before you could go, JJ reached out to tug on your dress. He pulled you back towards him, and you looked at him with wide eyes. He studied your face, just drinking you in, and the longer he did, the more uncomfortable you felt.

Only you didn’t know why.

“Don’t make me have to drag Pope into this…”

You swallowed down anger at that.

“I’m serious, Y/N. If he finds out that I knew this whole time what you were really up to, and I didn’t say anything, he’s going to kill me.”

“I know-.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” he told you with a frown. “There won’t be anything to tell him if you just…stop this.”

His gaze flickered between your eyes.

“Please…”

His tone made your chest tighten painfully, and reluctantly, you gave him a nod. He didn’t seem convinced, but he eventually let you go, and as you shuddered from the cool night air, you remembered.

“Your sweater…”

“Keep it,” he said, slowly looking you over. “With the way you dress, you probably need it more than I do.”

You didn’t know how to take that, and you were still frowning about it long after he’d left.

“Okay…okay,” JJ breathed. “One foot in front of the other, yeah. Just like that.”

You hung onto him, feeling more embarrassed than you had in a long time.

Since that night JJ ran into you and Topper, you’d been good as of late. You’d seriously listened to his concerns and decided to calm down a bit. A simple party before 10 o’clock was nothing. You’d even told your parents where you were going and that you’d be back before 12. However, when one drink had you stumbling and sloppier than you’d been in a while, you knew that something was wrong.

You could count the number of times you’d actually dialed JJ’s number.

Tonight being one of them.

“Is your dad home?” you drunkenly wondered, having heard all about the abusive man.

“Nah, he’s out of town,” the blond assured you, depositing you on his couch.

You leaned your head back as JJ rummaged around the house.

“We need to get you some water…”

There was no telling what had been slipped into your drink, and considering you’d actually been honest about where you were this time, you didn’t know why you’d called JJ instead of Pope. Maybe you just didn’t want your brother to see you like this when JJ had already seen you at your near lowest point before.

You happily gulped down the water he brought back, and you could feel his worried gaze.

“I only had one drink, I promise,” you slurred, looking up at him with tearful eyes, and the blond nodded, sitting beside you.

“Hey, I believe you,” he said, rubbing your shoulder. “I do.”

You felt your face soften some, and you stared at JJ for what felt like a long time. You suddenly frowned, shaking your head at him.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said, continuing when he frowned, now. “All you’ve done is be worried about me on behalf of my brother, and I kind of crucified you for it.”

JJ didn’t say anything to that.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get attention, I don’t know, but… Pope is your best friend, and you have every right to care about his family. Why wouldn’t you?” you shrugged. “I’ve just been a bitch.”

“Don’t call yourself a bitch,” he said with a shake of his head. “I could’ve been…nicer…”

You watched him swallow, and JJ ran his hands through his hair, a peculiar look on his features. You got the feeling that he wanted to say something, and when he took a deep breath, you blinked at him.

“I really care about you…and I kept hearing Pope go on and on about how worried he was for you and the things he was hearing and you sneaking out, but… Seeing it for myself upset me more than I thought it would.”

JJ was looking at you, now, and you frowned at the way he studied you. You wondered if he’d always looked at you this way, and if your lack of anger in this moment just allowed you to finally see it. You felt your chest tighten, body heating up, and you were all too aware of how alone you both were. Your frown deepened when he moved closer.

“JJ…”

He kissed you, and you only blinked.

It was unexpected, and you suddenly realized that a lot of his anger before wasn’t just concern. You didn’t really know how to feel about that, but your body jumped into action before your mind could, kissing him back as your lashes fluttered. Something in the back of your brain was yelling at you that you were drunk and drugged out of your mind. It was something you definitely needed to hear because there was no way in the world you’d be kissing your brother’s best friend if you were sober.

Under normal circumstances, you definitely wouldn’t be moaning into his mouth, allowing him to pull you closer, a hand on the small of your back and kneading into your skin. You were wearing the sweatshirt he’d let you borrow, and it had ridden up at some point. His other hand was on your jaw, and when he tilted your head back, lips trailing down your neck, that was when your stomach churned.

You hadn’t intended to throw up in his sink, but it was the closest thing you could think of. JJ had quickly followed, rubbing your back as you struggled to catch your breath, and when you straightened, stomach still feeling weird, you shook your head.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you mumbled, hesitantly meeting his gaze. “I’m really drunk, and…”

You looked away, head all over the place.

“I’m sorry, JJ,” you rushed out before moving to lock yourself in his room.

He hadn’t bothered you the rest of the night, something you’d been grateful for because you really just wanted to be alone with your thoughts. JJ was still asleep when you snuck away the next morning, and still so thrown by the memory of his lips on yours, you hadn’t even cared when your parents had chewed you out for breaking curfew. Maybe there was some part of you that wanted to be punished for everything you’d been doing the past months because you’d welcomed being grounded with ease.

It felt…relieving.

When Pope never brought it up, you had assumed that JJ never told him about the kiss, and you certainly weren’t going to tell him. You had no intention of anything like that ever happening again with the blond. After all, you’d been drunk and drugged, and while it may have been a decision on JJ’s part, it was nothing more than a lapse in judgment for you.

Which was why you didn’t understand how you found yourself quite literally underneath JJ weeks later.

The guilt over the kiss had been eating at you more than you thought, pushing you back into unhealthy habits, and before you knew it, you were snorting some unknown substance off of Topper’s key. The alcohol that was already in your system wasn’t of much help, but neither you nor Topper cared until JJ was quite literally dragging you away from the other blond.

“Hey!”

Your protests hadn’t meant anything to him, and with Pope with Kie, and your parents out of town for two days, JJ had angrily forced you back home. You both had stumbled through the door, more so your fault than his, and you could remember yelling at him about butting into your life.

“Someone has to!”

You had glared at him, a mean scoff escaping as you looked him over.

“You only care about me because you want to fuck me.”

It was mean. Cruel. You knew that. After all, you had never known JJ to be anything less than genuine, and you knew that whatever he seemed to feel for you, it was real, but you were high and drunk and angry and annoyed. Not to mention confused.

JJ had never been anything more than your brother’s friend, and you didn’t know how to handle the knowledge that he liked you.

“What do you think Pope would do if he knew…?”

JJ had pressed his lips together, nostrils flaring, and maybe that should’ve been your sign to stop while you were ahead, but… Well…

You’d trusted JJ.

“Were you scared that I was going to go home with Topper or something? Is that really why you dragged me from that party?” you’d mockingly wondered. “Worried that I was gonna fuck him instead of you?”

JJ had grabbed you before the words had finished coming out of your mouth, your back meeting the wall as you’d stared at him in shock. You’d thought that he was just trying to scare you maybe, trying to use some new method to get you to act right, but when you found yourself in your room and with his hand tearing at your skirt, you realized the predicament you were in.

“JJ, stop,” you tearfully begged, pushing your hand against his stomach.

The blond flippantly slapped it away, grabbing your wrist and pinning it beside your head as he fucked you against your sheets. You could only focus on the ceiling as he snapped his hips against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling your room. You didn’t know if you were grateful or upset that no one was home.

After all, if they were home, they would’ve heard your screams.

…but because they weren’t, they didn’t hear the whimpers either.

Sweat coated JJ’s skin as he pounded into you, your own skin glowing with a light sheen, losing track of how many times he made you come around him. Your chest was heaving with shortness of breath, unable to quite catch it with every push of his cock. He stretched you out, making you whine and release high pitched keening sounds, half cries and half melodies.

His lips trailed over your own mouth, leaving light and fluttery kisses before dragging his lips down your throat in a similar fashion as that night. His teeth grazed your skin, and a sharp thrust made you gasp. It was maybe 45 minutes ago when you’d been begging him to stop, telling him this wasn’t funny when you’d still be convinced it was a cruel joke.

Now, you didn’t even know if you wanted him to stop anymore.

When he let one of your hands go, he twisted it into the hair at the nape of your neck. His own breathing was harsh, and again, you pressed your hand to his stomach try and control his thrusts, feeling like you could feel him deep in your stomach. It brought tears to your eyes, and a choked moan crawled from your lips.

“You’ll fuck that rich asshole, but not me…?” he breathlessly wondered, lifting his head and staring into your tearful eyes. “The one who’s only around when he wants something from you, but not the one who actually gives a shit about you?”

“JJ,” you choked out.

“Huh?”

His other hand dug into your waist, and with both hands free, you pushed against him, trying to give yourself some reprieve.

“Uh uh,” he exhaled, shaking his head and curving his hips into yours. “You’ve done nothing but drive me crazy for months.”

He kissed you then, roughly, and you couldn’t form words.

“Sneaking out, worrying everybody, doing drugs with those Kooks and putting yourself in danger…”

He groaned when you clenched around him, his lashes fluttering briefly before his blue gaze held yours again.

“You don’t know the half of what I wanted to do to Topper when I saw you with him that night…”

He completely leaned over you, forearm pressed into the bed.

“When I realized just what he was to you…”

He pushed his cock into you to the hilt, pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming himself back into your walls. It was embarrassing how wet you were, and you were happy to blame the drugs and alcohol in your system that made you loopier than usual. Your eyes rolled, and you threw your head back. You blinked, and you dazedly watched the room spin as JJ plunged his cock into your walls, thrusting into you with ease.

“…and you still went back to him. Even after you promised-.”

“You kissed me,” you cried, lips trembling as you recalled how much that had screwed with your head.

“I fucking care about you,” JJ hissed, leaning back and pulling you with him.

You barely hung onto him as he held you in his lap, on his knees and lifting his hips to push his cock up into you. You moaned at the feel, head lazily lolled as the drugs and alcohol fought against each other in your system. JJ was pressing kisses to your face as he fucked you, one hand tightly curled against your back and the other digging into your thigh. You could feel yourself dripping around his cock, and you found it hard to keep hanging onto him. One of your arms slipped completely, hand brushing the bed, and when JJ bent his head to nip at your chest, you cried out.

When he pushed you back down, all of your breath left you at his newfound vigor, one hand pressed into your lower stomach to hold you down while he fucked you. The other was pressed into the bed beside your head, holding himself up so that he could alternate between looking at your face and down to where he disappeared into you.

You squirmed beneath him, feeling another orgasm creeping up, and you hated the way you started to clench around him. JJ could feel it too, and he hissed, blue eyes completely focused on your face as it twisted.

“Come on,” you heard him breathe, and you tried to fight it. “Come on, baby.”

You reached down, wrapping your hand around his wrist.

He was sliding into you with a purpose, chasing your high more than his own, but you could see it on his face that he was close too. When you felt yourself starting to shake, that was when he leaned down, completely pressed against you as his lips grazed your ear.

“Did you let him come inside of you? Huh?” he pressed when you didn’t answer.

Tearfully, you shook your head, and your nails pressed into JJ’s back as you came, your own climax triggering his own. Unlike Topper though, JJ stilled against you, spilling into you and coating your walls, marking you in more ways than one as his lips pressed to your neck and shoulder. He kept fucking you, lazily thrusting into you and making you shudder.

The room was still spinning when you finally stilled, chest heaving, and you couldn’t stop JJ as he kissed you.

“I’ll keep you in line,” he murmured, lips trailing as he slowly started kissing his way down your frame. “I’ll keep you safe, and Pope can finally relax.”

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter twenty one

close to home | chapter twenty one

plot: the reader reunites with her family

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,159 Warnings: violence, blood, injury A/N: how does everyone like the story so far? I love and appreciate each like, reblog and comment!! It means the absolute world to me; love you all!!!!! <3

You couldn’t believe your eyes at the sight of your family, with Carol leading them all to you. You choked out a sob and tried to move, Tyreese helping you. Figures started running to you immediately, and you cried harder when you saw Daryl beating them all. 

He didn’t seem to notice the wounds on your body as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. You cried in agony and relief when you put your weight on him and hugged him tightly. His shoulders shook, and you couldn’t tell if he was crying. 

Daryl pulled away abruptly to look at you, and you saw that it was because he was crying. He was breathing heavily, and you could tell he couldn’t find words. You set your hands on his face before he pulled you back into another hug. 

“(Y/N),”

You opened your eyes to see Maggie behind Daryl and pulled away from him to hug your cousin. She was shaking against your body, and you held her tightly. You didn’t have the words to express your happiness. When she pulled away from you, you cupped her cheeks and smiled. “It’s so good to see you,” You choked out. 

She hugged you again before others began approaching you. Glenn was next, and you laughed through your tears and hugged him tightly. Michonne pushed her way forward and checked you out before hugging you. 

Then Rick came over and hugged you, thanking you endlessly. And then Carl, who looked at you with teary eyes and couldn’t walk away without giving you another hug. 

“She’s bleedin’,” Daryl said, still choked up. You laughed and wiped away your tears. 

“I grabbed this,” Carol said, approaching you with a bigger med pack. “It’s from Terminus. We need to look at your stitches.”

“We need to get somewhere safe. We’re still too close,” Rick said.

You struggled to take another step, and Carol grabbed your arm. Tyreese stepped up to grab you, but Daryl beat him, carefully picking you up bridal style. You glanced back at Carl, who was crying and holding Tora in her arms. It made you laugh through your pain. 

Rick led the way through the woods, and you felt happier and more drained with each step.

“I feel like this is a dream,” You said to Daryl as he carried you through the woods. You glanced around at your family with still, glossy eyes. “This must be a hallucination from blood loss.”

“Ain’ a dream,” Daryl said. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were red. 

You smiled and leaned against his shoulder.

***

You stopped a few miles away from where the cabin was, at a river bedside. Daryl set you down against a large boulder and helped you stand while Carol quickly went to work fixing your stitches. Maggie was on your other side, holding your hand.

While Carol worked on the stitches, you looked around at the number of people there. And then suddenly you realized who wasn’t there. And you were so focused on seeing the people who were you didn’t think about those who weren’t. 

“Where’s Beth?” You asked Maggie, “And Uncle Hershel?”

Maggie stared at you, and her eyes started to gloss over. “The governor, daddy’s gone. And Beth was taken. We don’t know by who.”

Your eyes watered, and a few tears slipped. You tightened your hold on your cousin's hand, and she leaned in, pressing her forehead against your shoulder. You wanted to scream and cry at what you had just learned, but you gritted your teeth. You would mourn later. 

To distract herself, Maggie worked at cleaning the blood from your face and dressing the minor cuts. “You nose ain’t broken, but it’s bruised real good. Probably got a black eye from that asshole, too,” She said.

Carol finally finished properly stitching the wound and wrapped it tight after applying the medication. She gave you some pain pills and then water. She gave your hand a squeeze before going to sit down. 

Maggie had gone over to Glenn and sought comfort with him while Daryl helped you sit down. You looked around for Tora and found her wading in the river, drinking her fill. Carl was with her, holding Judith. 

“I thought ya were dead,” Daryl said quietly, and you looked at him. “This whole time, I thought ya were dead.”

You nodded, “I hoped you weren’t. But…” Your voice trailed off. Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head to the faces you didn’t know. “Who are they?”

Daryl looked as he moved a bit closer to you. “That’s Abrahan, Eugene, Rosita, and Tara. They’re good. They’re friends.”

You nodded and leaned against the boulder, resting your hand on your side and letting yourself calm down. Daryl glanced at your hand, and you could see the worry building up on his face. He was biting his fingernail, something he always did when he was anxious. 

“I’m okay, just a little weak.” You reassured him. 

Before long, with everyone pitching it, an impromptu camp was set up. Abraham and Tyreese stood on watch on either side while Carol organized the things she’d taken from Terminus. A fire was going, and Maggie and Glenn were handling cooking fish that the newcomer Rosita had caught. You watched everyone with a smile, and it grew even more when Rick approached you. 

“How are you holding up?” He asked, kneeling in front of you. 

“Better than ever,” You said, lightly patting the dressed wound. The pain medication was starting to set in, and it was just a dull ache. “Nothing happened to Judith. Tyreese, Carol, and I… she was good.” 

Rick set his hand on yours and nodded. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“We’re family.”

Daryl returned, handing you some food and a water canteen. Rick gave you another smile before he stood up and walked away. 

You greedily ate the food offered to you, your stomach finally settling. Your body was blissfully numb, and you felt at peace. You felt, for the first time since the prison, safe. 

After Maggie and Glenn finished cooking, they sat with you. The idea of her being your last piece of family by blood didn’t escape your mind, and you were sure it didn’t escape hers, either. 

She shared with you what happened to her after the prison fell and how she was sure that a half-eaten body on the bus was you. She had even gone through the trouble of burying it. That made you laugh uncontrollably for some reason, and then it turned to tears, and she hugged you until they dried. 

You told her a lesser version of what happened to you. You left out Mika and Lizzie; not ready to share that yet. But everything else was the same, and she thanked you endlessly for getting her. They would’ve been dead without Carol, Tyreese, and you. 

Glenn called over Tara so she could meet you, and you immediately liked her. She reminded you a lot of yourself when you were younger, and after hearing that she saved Glenn’s life, you liked her even more. 

Eventually, the sun set entirely, and people started dividing watch rotations. You have left off that list because no one trusted your pain-medicated body to stay awake, and everyone knew you needed to rest.

You were munching on some pecans when Daryl came over to you, giving you space to talk with Maggie and Glenn, and silently sat down beside you. He pulled off his vest and rolled it up, and set it next to him so you had some sort of pillow.

“Can’ believe you got the damn bow,” He snorted and nodded towards your weapon, laying discarded a foot away from you. 

You winced as you lay on the ground, the vest not offering much of a pillow, but you were happy that he even thought to offer it. “Hunted with the damn bow, got a few good squirrels and rabbits. Much better than your crossbow.”

Daryl shook his head and stared down at you, not saying anything. You held his gaze for a moment before you looked away. Everyone who wasn’t on a watch rotation had settled in for the night, and you could already hear someone snoring. 

You looked back up at Daryl, whose gaze was still on you. “What if I wake up and you’re not here?”

“You ain’ hallucinatin',” Daryl said. His voice was gruff, but it was quiet and comforting. 

You breathed out a laugh and finally closed your eyes while you yawned. You didn’t want to fall asleep, but it pulled you away from the world anyway. 

***

Daryl was up until his watch rotation and then some. The camp was undisturbed. The soft snores of his family and the occasional firewood crack. Abraham was up on the other side of camp, and Rick was double-checking the area. With one signal, Daryl would have you in his arms and ready to run if needed. 

But while it was safe and quiet, he took the opportunity to run through the millions of emotions he’d felt since seeing you. His heart stopped when he saw your figure come into view after walking up that hill. He barely recognized it as you, but he knew. 

And he didn’t stop until he felt your touch, heard you breathing and crying. He didn’t even notice how badly you were hurt until your attention turned elsewhere and he could inspect you himself. When he saw how badly you were beaten up, he wanted to lose it. But Carol told him the man who did it was dead, and he allowed himself to calm down. Still, when he looked at your bruised body, he felt a surge of anger that he knew could only be solved by hurting the person who hurt you.

Daryl glanced down at your sleeping figure next to him. You’d managed to creep closer to him in your sleep, and it was dark enough that no one else would see--otherwise, he probably would’ve moved. But your arm was resting against his side, not touching all the way but enough for him to feel it. Your head had lulled to the side, and in the dim firelight, he could see the bruises on your neck that would likely darken before they got better. 

You looked so peaceful sleeping. With food in your belly and as much water as you could stomach, colo had come back into your cheeks--especially since you had actual medicine running through your veins. 

He was so thankful Carol thought to grab it while she was in there. 

He glanced around the camp, and when he knew no one was looking, he reached out and ran his hand slowly down your head, caressing it gently. His eyes filled with tears, and it seemed to finally hit that you were here. You weren’t dead. You were sleeping right beside him. You were deeply bruised and stitched up, but you were here. And you have over a dozen people to help keep you safe. He wasn’t going to let anything else happen to you. 

The sudden urge to reach down and kiss you came over him, and he had to pull his hand away to keep himself from acting on it. But when he looked down at you again, he realized how much he wanted to do it. He wanted to feel how soft your lips were and hold your body close to him. He wanted to know your taste and feel you breathe. The desire for you was so strong at that moment that he had to look away.

He didn’t know how long he’d felt this way, even if he realized it now. He just kept picturing you on the ground all those months ago with your gun raised. Ready to shoot him. And then you put him on his ass so quick, he didn’t have time to think. And then he was looking up at you. And when you reached down your hand and told him your name. That could’ve been when his heart started to feel something, but he didn’t know it until now. 

Daryl knew perfectly well that you did not feel the same way. You were close, yes, but you couldn’t have the same feelings. He knew you gave him the same smile as anyone else. And if you weren’t in pain, you probably would’ve lied down closer to everyone else. 

No, he wouldn’t allow himself to think of the possibility of you returning even a tiny fraction of what he felt for you. It was easier to ignore it himself.

[seahagart]

Sorry if you already answered this but who is Drifa's goddess?

She worships the goddess of wilderness (nothing canon in game) Basically since she's a paladin and paladin's follow an oath rather than picking a pantheon at the start, i thought it'd be interesting if her oath is to her temple, she was the protector of her temple for the past 15+ years which is dedicated to the Lady of Frost, Goddess of the Wilds, Maiden of Snow. Essentially goddess of the wilderness, snow, and survival.

Huge Drífa lore dump under the cut.

She was left at the temple while all of the other members slowly left, one by one, when their godess called to them to do so. Each one that left has never returned. Eventually the guardian of the temple passed, leaving Drífa to wait her turn and keep the temple until her goddess instructs her otherwise. She has waited for a long time... Eventually she stopped keeping track of how much time passed, and fell into routine.

Drífa appreciates nature, but in a 'respect what could kill you' way. She does not love animals because they're cute and fuzzy, she appreciates them because of their tenacity, and their skills. She worships the circle of life, that the strong live while the weak perish, and it is her duty to protect this. Meaning hunting is normal, but to kill for the sake of killing is deplorable. It is her duty to keep the shrine, make offerings to her goddess, and protect the way of life on the mountain. Hunters who come to collect for their food on the mountain are fine, but outsiders who come into her territory to take more than they give are dealt with.

She is cold, ruthless, territorial, but she is also kind, gentle, giving. Drífa can't help herself sometimes. She takes in a hunter who should be facing the consequences of his grave miscalculation aka he didn't respect the mountain and should freeze or figure a way out... but she gives him shelter. She should just kill the bear that keeps taking the food from her traps, and she curses it plenty, but it was a brutal winter, she sees the bear has cubs, so she lets it take her prize when she shouldn't.

When Drífa has her child, she sees this as a gift from her goddess, her next lesson in survival. Raising young. Drífa softens even more. She would not think about putting something out of its misery, or striking if it meant she will have food... But now she has a boy who loves birds and pleads with her to help it. So she does. Then its the fox still alive in her trap, she has a soft spot for foxes as she likes them for their cleverness, so she nurses it back to health when she knows she shouldnt. She gives more time to her child and neglects the offerings, the shrine, and soon is too focused on playing with her child she doesn't hear the footsteps in the snow. They are attacked, her child is separated from her, and ultimately is never recovered. She spends weeks searching only to find scraps and blood. She returns, heart broken, and brings swift death to those who did this, the warriors that moved into her shrine while she was gone. All of them are put outside as a warning to those that enter her territory. She never sees other people after this. She knows this was a punishment from her goddess, she was losing sight of her duty as the temple keeper, she wasn't respecting her place in the world, and now had to survive the worst: grief. She decided she would overcome this, just like everything else, and would survive because that's what she is meant to do.

She is taken from her mountain by the nautliod, her temple crushed and destroyed. She believes this is the sign from her goddess, forcing her to leave the mountain and pursue her next step. Eventually she is with others for the first time in years, and she sees this as a sign that she is meant to be with them, protect this group, until she can figure out what her goddess is telling her. Drífa slowly gets more socialized, learns more common, talks more, but remains the quiet, stoic presence in the party. She is starting to wonder if her goddess is punishing her because these people have so many problems.... She continues on, helping where she sees fit.

Eventually as part of her quest line, she is reunited with her son who was saved by some 'do gooders' aka saw a battered young boy in the snow and took him, not realizing mama bear was on her way to get him. They took him many villages over so Drífa couldn't track him, and eventually her son gets better, and after a few years begins his own quest to find his way back to the mountain and find his mom to see if she's alive. After much searching, he hears about a big orc in town, and he thinks maybe it could be a lead, so he shows up to demand answers, ready to do whatever it takes, only to have his bow pointed at his mom. It takes them a moment to recognize each other, but obviously after that they have a beautiful reunion. Drífa thanks her goddess, because clearly this was a reward for her well done work, and because she learned her lesson, etc.

Now the party members get to find out that mama bear is actually a mom and has a son and if they romance her, they will be a step-parent... lol

[mixelation]

also (a)sync

i like the idea of minato just getting INCREDIBLE amounts of leeway wrt tori just because he's 1. incredibly valuable as a ninja, 2. incredibly charismatic and well-liked, and 3. a touch of nepotism from being jiraiya's favorite student. tori HAS killed a few konoha ninja but based on geography i think she's aiming to get to a non fire country coast, so she just runs into fewer of them than other ninja. so konoha is just like: well, we should make note of whatever the fuck this situation is, but the pros of keeping minato happy outweigh the cons

and then he kills a thousand people for her. and konoha is like: oh, fuck

i think this backstory didn't make it into the snippet i posted, but in the original timeline:

Tori was not a very good student of history, but even she knew the story of how the Yellow Flash got his flee on sight order.  She did not know the exact date. She could not remember the names of any of the commanding shinobi involved. But the tale went like this: Iwa had a major camp in Grass Country, where they’d set up a prison. They managed to capture one of the Third Hokage’s sons, and Hiruzen had sent a team to negotiate his release. Publicly, Konoha wanted all prisoners released safely, but Iwa had understood this trade was about the son. At the first round of negotiations, they’d marched out half the prisoners and executed them right in front of the Konoha representative. This had been a “we mean business” message to get more concessions from Konoha, and maybe to humiliate them.  The Konoha representative had gone back to his own camp and written for help. Minato had been in the area and volunteered to go in. He’d snuck in in the dead of night, aiming to grab the prisoners and teleport them away. Iwa had anticipated this; they were waiting for him. A fight had broken out, an entire thousand-person camp of active shinobi versus one guy.  Minato had won.  So, in theory, Tori could just sit tight, and Minato would show up and rescue her.  But also in theory, Tori was the least politically important captive. Some of the prisoners Iwa had killed in front of the Konoha representative weren’t even Konoha. It was extremely likely that her head would be on the chopping block before Minato even realized she was here.  Why am I always this fucked? Tori wondered. It simply wasn’t fair. If she had no ninja friends, she ended up harassed and bullied like any civilian. If she had ninja friends, they were only there to leave her for dead.

so in th original timeline he did the same thing, but it was like a big hero moment for him from Konoha POV. In this timeline, it's a.... it's a "he will go off and do catastrophic things for his girlfriend" moment.

so i think it would be fun to play with, but i'm not sure what direction i want to take it in. like do i want him to be able to recover his konoha PR? does it affect the hokage situation? is konoha suddenly more interested in tori, or do they see this as an entire minato thing? did he just paint a huge target on her?

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Fix You Part 4/10

+18

Part 5 and 6 are out on my Patreon!

Summary - Reader is hired as Ruben's assistant nurse after receiving head trauma during a football game. He has fallen into a deep depression on his road to recovery and does not accept much help from Reader as she only reminds him of how incapable he is.

Enjoy!

He should have never given you a day off, Ruben thought. You had been gone for hours, without telling anyone where you went. Ruben woke up that morning to an empty apartment. Okay, Max was there but he was an early riser and always went out for a morning run. You, on the other hand, wasn't an early riser. You'd wake up around the same time Ruben did. He would listen to your footsteps puttering around the kitchen while he lay in bed. By the time you knocked on his door to give him his shot, Ruben had been awake for hours, thinking about you and how he would do anything to feel your hands against his face again.

"Do you think she's gone missing?" Ruben asked Max.

"I thought she said that she had an audition this afternoon?"

"A what?"

"An audition. She's an actress, you know? A really good one too."

"Y/N, an actress?" Ruben found it very laughable. Actors and actresses possessed the skill of lying to the world. That night, looking into your eyes as you held his face, Ruben saw nothing but the truth in them. The truth that you were indeed the most breathtaking woman he had ever seen.

"Yeah, apparently she's studied at one of the best acting schools in London."

"Oh, yeah? Then how come I haven't seen her in any movies?"

It was a slow day in the park. However, Max refused to bring out the tennis balls. Despite the surgery, it was obvious that Ruben's conditions had yet improved. He feared that it was getting worse. And with that thought his creeping depression would return to him with the thoughts of never playing football again. That, and the fact that going blind forever meant never seeing your eyes again.

"I dunno, she said something about the movie industry being misogynistic and unfair to women." Max explained.

Ruben snorted. "Sounds like excuses to me."

He was an asshole at heart. Ruben knew that. But you didn't, or at least pretended not to notice. It's the reason why he hired you. You had an attitude like no other, an attitude that was reflected in your snapping tongue. Whatever Ruben put you through, no matter the insult, you always looked at him the same. Not with pity like his mother. You looked at Ruben as if you could see right through him. See through the pain in his heart and the many many failed attempts to better himself. You gave him the illusion that he might be good enough for you. However, the whole world knew that he wasn't. Not with his broken mind.

The sun had gone down by the time you got back to the apartment. Ruben and Max returned from the park hours ago. You had missed dinner and Ruben didn't like that. Did you have dinner somewhere else? With someone else? If that was the case, the two of you really needed to talk.

"Ruben?"

It was right on cue that you knocked on his door. You had made it a habit to check on him before you retreated to your own room. Ruben would never admit it, but this was the favorite part of his day.

"Come in." He said, sitting up in bed. He perked up even more seeing you appear in the doorway, your face painted with makeup, wearing a tight black dress that hugged your shape in ways that struck his sinful imagination. No bandages covered his eyes during these hours and luckily you wore a coat over your naked shoulders, preventing Ruben from completely losing his mind at the sight of you.

"Hey, I just wanted to check on you." You said.

"Well, like all the other nights you've checked on me, I'm still alive."

His cheesy comment made your smile fade. Good job Ruben, he thought. Even in the dark he could see your distaste for him.

"I mean, do you need anything before I go to bed?" 

"No."

"Oh, okay."

You lingered in the door frame, perhaps feeling forced to make small talk. "Max told me that you guys went to the park today, did you have a nice time?"

"Yes."

"Good."

An awkward silence followed. If you would only step a little closer to the bed so that he could see you clearly. Ruben's vision got a bit blurry where you stood, since his eyes still needed time to adjust, even to the dark.

"Did Max let you exercise again?" You asked.

Ruben snorted. "No." 

"I'm sorry about that."

Perhaps you felt guilty ever since his little fumble in the park, where Ruben's heart topped the average rate. Max refused anymore advanced brain exercises after that. The reason for Ruben's newfound restlessness. Nevertheless, he didn't blame it on you.

"It's not your fault." Ruben said, looking at his hands. "We'll start again in time."

You nodded. "You will get better in time, Ruben, your doctor said so himself."

You had started taking him to his weekly appointments. Although you were much better company than Ruben's mother, he didn't like the look of pity that you gave him as the doctors would pin all those needles in him to run their many many tests. You would never see him for the man he really was, a football player.

"Where were you?" Ruben asked, pleased to change the subject.

"Erm...out." 

"Out with who?"

Your arms folded. "Why do you assume I was out with someone?"

"You were out alone?"

"Yes, yes I was. Believe it or not."

"Why were you dressed like that?"

You looked down on your dress. The light from the hallway reflected off of the little specks of glitter, putting dots on Ruben's walls, making it look like little stars roamed above their heads.

"What's wrong with the way I dress?" You frowned.

"Nothing." He shrugged. "It just looks like you were going on a date or something."

"And if I were?"

"What?"

Ruben's reaction made you smile. "Yeah, if I did in fact go on a date, what's it to?"

"I don't....." 

He choked on his words and you laughed.

"Relax Ruben. I'm only dressed like this because the audition I went to required it."

Of course, he thought. Max told him about your acting pursuit, although he still doubted that you were a good one. However, Ruben was curious. "How did it go?"

"Shit." You sighed and to his surprise stepped into the room. "The directors wanted me to run lines in a scouse accent. Like, who even knows how to do that?"

Ruben laughed. He thought about the many times he had been scolded by the Liverpool fans. He never managed to understand a word of what they were saying to him. He doubted anyone knew what they were saying, not even themselves.

"All I'm saying is thank God for this job, otherwise I'd probably be on the street begging for leftovers."

"I'm sure you'll get your breakthrough." He said and really meant it. If it wasn't in your heart to work for him it could turn ugly very quickly.

"I dunno?" You sighed and to Ruben's surprise, felt comfortable enough to take a seat on his bed.

His legs stirred under the covers to distract him from the blood rushing to parts of his body that he really didn't want to come alive right now. Luckily, the room was dark and you sat on the foot of his bed. Nevertheless, your silhouette was enough to send him off. You were beautiful beyond the light, and if he was ever given the pleasure to touch you one day, he'd forsure make it memorable.

"Ruben?"

Fuck, he thought. You must have caught him staring.

"Yes?" He replied, cupping his groin under the covers.

"I want you to be honest with me."

Fuck.

"Before I go to bed...."

Yeah, he's done.

"Of course." He said, clearing his throat.

"Do you need my help getting to the toilet?"

"Pardon?"

You avoided his eyes out of cheer embarrassment. "You know...." You said. "To help you pee?"

If only God did drive-by's. "No, Y/N." He sighed. "I'm good to go on my own if I have to."

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. It's my body, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying. Last time..."

"Last time was a first."

"Right." There was a hint of a smile on your face. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

Ruben's heart sank, seeing you leave his bedside. "Y/N?" He exclaimed, stopping you at the door. 

You turned around, eyebrows raised. 

"Erm...you look beautiful."

Your face lit up. "Thank you."

"Yeah, um....goodnight, I guess." Ruben was quite desperate for you to leave.

"Goodnight Ruben."

He fell onto his back once the door shut. And an odd surprise awaited him as he slid a hand down his sweatpants. Ruben had been told that parts of his body could remain permanently affected by his injuries. Like the next man he wondered if that meant his abilities to perform in other places than just the football pitch, and unfortunately the answer was, yes. Like the next man Ruben had tried watching porn in all kinds of outrageous themes. However, nothing had done it for him. But now here he lay, with a full fledged erection and one person on his mind. 

As he began stroking himself, Ruben thought of stripping you of that dress of yours, touching you in ways that would pleasure you to a point of rapture. Oh how he would love to rip you apart, to hear you moan his name.

"Fuck."

As much as he wanted to make the moment last, Ruben was too horny to maintain a steady pace. He stroked his dick like his life depended on it. As if his mother could burst into his room at any minute.

"Shit...." 

Ruben ground, succumbing to his own temptations. He felt pathetic afterwards. Like an animal unable to control his urges. Nevertheless, he made a promise that the next time he came, it would be inside of you.

Part 5 and 6 are out on my Patreon!

[letstrythisout4]

Mary and Harry

Part 1:

October 31, 1981

The sound of faint crying was the only thing that kept Mary from falling to her knees in the rubble beside James. James laid at the foot of the staircase, not a wand in sight, wearing those godforsaken snitch patterned pajamas Marlene had gifted him just two years ago. 

If it wasn’t for the way his chest was so still Mary would have assumed the fool had just fallen asleep standing, it wouldn’t have been the first time. 

The crying grew to wailing and Mary shook her head and raced up the stairs, tripping in her hast to not step on James. “Don’t think too hard about it.” Mary told herself, incredibly aware of the tears that streamed down her face. 

The second story of the house was practically not existent, the walls had been blown apart, leaving them in ruins. It was hard to believe that this was the same house Monty and Effie had gifted James just a couple years ago. The nursery was a shell of itself. Mary could remember spending hours painting the forest mural. Lily was insistent that Mary paint it rather than a professional. Lily said it would “provide a personal touch” and that “it’s rather rude to argue with me, I mean you wouldn’t want to stress the baby, would you?” , smiling impishly as she sat in the rocking chair, watching Mary slave away on the walls. 

Weeks were spent in that room, Mary painting, James, Marlene and Sirius cluelessly putting together pieces to make furniture, Remus laughing from where he sat on the floor beside Lily. Lily rocked back and forth watching as her family was all in one room working around the clock to make sure everything was perfect for their newest member. They had finally finished just a month before Harry arrived, the mural was a beautiful mix of greens, browns and blacks, with shadowy images of a deer and a doe hidden amongst the trees. The furniture was finished and strong, the room was filled with light from the bay windows and toys that Harry wouldn’t be able to truly use for years were waiting for him on the shelves. 

Now the nursery wasn't illuminated through the bay windows, there was no laughter, the toys were broken and Lily wasn’t in her rocking chair. No, now the windows were gone, replaced by a hole where the walls used to be, taking the mural with it. Remus had packed away his laughter when he began getting sent on missions with the wolves. And Mary couldn’t see Lily, only her shoes which peaked out from the rubble.

A sob tore its way through Mary’s throat as she took in the sight. A hot burn followed it and she nearly doubled over, sick with the realization that her life as she knew it was over. But a sob louder than her own took her focus. The crib was miraculously untouched, no rumble inside of it, the only thing to be found inside was a boy. Deep brown skin, jet back hair, and wet brilliant green eyes stared up at her. 

Mary picked up Harry as gently as possible, held his face to her shoulder and ran. Ran out the room, down the stairs, and out the back door. She didn’t stop until she was past the apparition wards, she took a breath and popped away.

—

“Name?” 

“Mary MacDonald.”

“Passport?”

Mary slid the booklet under the glass and to the woman. The woman had a rude voice but the darkness around her eyes spoke to more than just her being rude for the joy of it. The woman scanned the passport, checked her monitor and swiftly slid the passport back towards Mary.

“And you only have one carry-on, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Place your bag on the conveyor belt, walk through the metal detector. Your bag will be on the other side waiting for you, thank you for flying with us today.” the woman said, sounding robotic, and sloppily gestured to the scanner behind her.

“Thank you.” Mary walked towards the detector, attempting to appear more confident than she felt. Once given the green light, she snatched up her briefcase and hustled to her gate. She waited, impatiently looking between the tunnel entrance and her fellow passengers. A yawn escaped her before she could stop it, numbers began being called and she stood in line to board her plane. 

Seat 9A was an aisle seat as close to the front of the plane as could be without paying for first class. It gave her both enormous anxiety and comfort to be on a plane. On one hand there had been any attacks on muggle transportation yet but on the other she wouldn’t put it past the universe to decide her flight was going to be the first. Mary slipped her briefcase between her calves, holding the strap of the bag in her right hand, fist clenched tightly around it. 

She spent the next 8 hours like that, only allowing herself a few seconds to untense her legs or fist when they grew numb. They landed in Washington, D.C. around 2 A.M. Mary practically ran off the plane and out the airport. She managed to wave down a taxi and within thirty minutes, Mary was in her recently rented studio apartment. 

The apartment was completely empty, just a kitchen with basic appliances and a bathroom. Once Mary tripled checked the lock of the door, she got to work. She threw off her shoes -converse Lily had bought her ages ago- and walked towards the open windows. Floor to ceiling windows with a beautiful view that Mary immediately charmed to be practically indestructible and tinted. After pulling down the blinds purely for her own sanity, she charmed every inch of the apartment. No spell, no animal, nothing was to make it into the apartment without her explicit and willing permission. After setting up every protection and ward she could think of, Mary placed her suitcase in the middle of her living room floor, opened it and stepped right inside. 

Inside the suitcase was a ranch style house, unlike the apartment above, it was completely decorated and stocked with enough food to last her months. She walked through the main hallway to the bedroom beside the Master’s and found Harry sleeping away in his crib. The crib was a last minute purchase, it was good enough quality but didn’t hold the same memories as the one before it.

“I guess we’ll just have to make new ones, Harry.” Mary told the boy who was ignorant to her hovering. She ghosted her hand across his cheek, she had been lucky he had slept through the flight and airport wait. Mary knew she would have panicked if the charm to notify her when Harry awoke had gone off.

Mary felt her knees buckle and didn’t even try and stop herself from falling beside Harry’s crib. She laid there next to him, staring at the ceiling wondering how this could be. Sirius was the Secret-Keeper, he would never have allowed James and Lily to be compromised. 

…No. No, he wouldn’t. Sirius had too much love and respect for the entire Potter family to ever turn his back on them. He would never stand beside a cause that killed Fleamont and Euphemia, a cause that killed Marlene, a cause that killed James and Lily.

But if it wasn’t Sirius, who?

—

Author’s note: yes I am starting another series, but good news this one is actually entirely planned out (at least the first book/part of it is) so really this is fine.

[melwsnt]

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR

After countless heated fights, you and eddie call things off, unofficially . All this time all you ever wanted was for him to chase after you...Until he actually does.

Obviously based on the other side of the door by Taylor swift 🤭

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A fortnight.

Two weeks since it happened.

Two hours every single night of sitting at your window starring hopelessely at the driveway hoping to hear the roar of his van you know all to well.

Two days of your friends trying their best to get you out of the house, while also trying not to pick a side.

And now two minutes of being back to that same window, starring at the curly metal-head you've been in love with for so long.

They say there is five stages of grief.

denial;

anger;

bargainign;

depression;

and acceptance.

You'd been grieving, but in denial for two weeks. And yet, seeing him standing here, in the drivway, in the pouring rain, ready to throw pebbles at your window,like you'd imagined, the denial didn't go away. It increased.

It was impossible in your mind that after everything you've endured with each other, he'd want you back. He fucked up, and yet you were set on yourself being the problem. You gave him too much shit for nothing, that's why he went to someone else. Though you never even let him explain the why as to he had been with another girl just minutes prior to your last argument.

It didn't matter. You were mad. Furious, even. But living without him was like living without the nececities you needed to survive. It was impossible.

He had tried calling so many times. But the only way you wanted him to chase you, was for him to show up at your door.

⟣⟢

TWO WEEKS AGO

Steve's parties always had the reputation of being the best, yet most of the people you knew had gotten their heart broken in that house. Steve included. Unbeknownst to you, tonight was about to be your turn.

You were looking for eddie, scooped the whole house, and yet he was nowhere to be found. Until eventually, the bathroom that was closed ten minutes ago was now unlocked. Letting yourself in, the sight in front of you was filled with disgust and pure anger and sadness. She had her lips on his. Moving in synch as if they fit better on his then yours did. All these years spent making fun of you at school, even making fun of him, and yet her mind had changed and she has gone after him.

The silence that filled the room was enough to kill someone. The buzz in your ears, the voices in your head telling you to get out of here before you threw up, or threw punches.

Your legs moved faster than your mind registered and before you knew it, you were standing in steve's room, hands on your stomach, tears pouring down your face.

The door opened, you could hear him sigh, before he could even open his mouth to say anything.

"Don't" You said, voice low, scared to choke on your own words.

"Y/n.” Eddie tried to take a step towards you, before being stopped again.

"I said don't. I don't wanna hear it. I've had enough of this."

"Can you at least let me explain? I swear it didn't-"

"If you're about to say it didn’t mean anything so help me god Eddie i will actually lose my mind. I said i don't wanna hear it. I just wanna be left alone. Leave, please." You said, your back still to him.

"I'm not leaving until you let me explain. I promise it's not what it looked like."

"Fine. If you're not leaving, then i'm out of here. I'll walk home."

“Please don’t-“

The slamming of the door cutting him off was intense, heads turned to you in the hallway, seeing your macara stained cheeks. Friends called your name, but it all seemed too far away for you to care. You just had to get home, and cry. Because it was over. You needed him, and frankly didn't know how you were going to survive this.

⟣⟢

NOW

You don't know how you even made it down the stairs to the door. Maybe it was still the denial kicking in, making you think you'd seen a ghost and were hoping he wasn't behind that door. Or maybe you wanted him to be.

Muscle memory opened that door before you could even think of doing so, and he was there,standing in the rain, one last pebble in his hand which he dropped the moment your eyes locked. Standing under the porch light drenched in water, waiting to say what you'd been waiting for.

"I'm gonna talk and i need you to not interrupt me. I'm so sorry. You didn't leave me any time to explain and i was so mad at first but now i get it. I can't imagine what it looked like and i'm sorry. But i did mean it when i said it wasn't what it looked like. I was just smoking and she came in, i told her i was with you, she laughed then kissed me and i was a bit drunk so it took me seconds to register. I know that's no excuse, and i'll forever apologize. But i can't keep going on without you. I know you, i know you've been waiting for me to come here. But i called a hundred times and never got an answer. I thought you never wanted to see me again. I'm sorry. I’ll do anything to make you forgive me." After rambling for so long and so fast, Eddie was out of breath. It took him a second to catch it, starring back at you waiting for you to either kiss him, or telling him to fuck off.

"Was she worth this mess? Do you regret it? because I’ve lost too much sleep over this and over you for us to have been a lie. I need to know this won't ever happen again."

"She was never worth it. You're the only thing in my life that's ever made sense and i'm sorry i fucked it all up. I swear, i'll never be this stupid again."

Arms crossed, cheeks still stained, a small smile made it's way to your lips.

"Good. Because i need you."

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Haven’t been on here for so long because I had the worst writer’s block! Slowly getting back into it so this is a small one ( and probably bad let’s be honest) but I decided to start a Taylor series:) will be mostly for Eddie and Steve and song themed!! ( don’t hesitate if you have ANY request even if it’s not for Eddie or Steve, I can make some exceptions🤭)

I’m excited to get this actually started. 🫶🏼