#like this has been living in my head for so long

[cleolinda]

AITA for banning my husband and father in law from the delivery room due to their intensely stressful/creepy behavior during my pregnancy?

There’s a famous Reddit post from 2020 where a pregnant woman wrote that her husband and father-in-law were a little too comfortable with their certainty that she was absolutely going to die in childbirth just like her husband’s late mother. It was to the point where her FIL was insisting that she go ahead and put all her clothes into storage, because she was obviously going to die in the hospital and it would save them the grief of packing up her things afterwards. Like. It was WILD.

When I tell my husband [that she feels suspicious of her FIL], he calls me paranoid, but I feel like my FIL WANTS me to die; his whole life identity for the past 35 years has been “amazing single dad” (never dated or had close friends or even hobbies really), and it seems like he’s looking forward to being able to guide my husband through what he went through. At this point, I’d honestly be happy to never see my FIL again, and I certainly don’t want him in the delivery room, especially since he told me he was “putting [his] foot down” about me not being “allowed” to have an epidural…. My husband, in addition to backing his dad on everything, acts like my due date is my death date, and has completely pulled away from me.

The commenters (and me, honestly) were convinced that the husband and FIL were either going to kill her outright to fulfill this expectation, or just make decisions about her care that might conveniently let her die.

And then she never posted again.

Over the last four years, people have frequently mentioned that post, always leading to a thread of people saying, “Oh god, I still worry about that woman.” I did too. It became one of those famous unresolved posts that people always wondered about.

Until yesterday, when someone on r/BestOfRedditorUpdates dug up a 2022 update she had posted on a different account:

TLDR; I had a beautiful and healthy baby girl, and I divorced my ex-husband. I lived, obviously.

She writes that she put her foot down about having her own mother in the delivery room rather than her FIL (!), and she WOULD be getting an epidural. Her husband lost his shit. And in his outburst, he let slip--

I admittedly lost my temper, and told him that I wasn’t going to die- it wasn’t my fault his father’s trauma wormed it’s way into his head, and that he needed to fix it without taking it out on me. He yelled at me that he didn’t need therapy. That caught me a little off guard; I asked him why he went to his therapist and was given advice about my death if he felt he didn’t need it. His expression gave it away, and he caved not long after. It turns out there was no therapist. It was just his dad. During the times he was supposed to be at therapy, he was with his dad. I’m still fuming.

And that was when she got the fuck out.

I’ll wrap this up- I’ve got an adorable little toddler tugging at my leg atm. I’m alive, I’m happy, and I’ve got my baby in my arms. Life is good.

I truly never thought we'd see a resolution to this, and I feel like there's probably a good number of people who remember it, so I thought you might want to know.

ETA: Brilliantly, I put the link in at the top; here it is again for convenience.

[mopopshop]

Say Yes (Emily x OC)

summary: emily and ava are great parents except.. emily can’t say no to their daughter kiara

just emily being cute and fluffy as a girl mom, so obsessed and hope you guys enjoy 🙌🏾🙌🏾

Six-year-old Kiara had cracked the code in her parents' parenting. You weren't strict or mean, but you tended to say ‘no’ more often, and Kiara had noticed that Emily rarely said no to her. It's been this way as long as Kiara could remember; even when Emily felt like she probably should decline her daughter, it wasn't in her nature. Whenever Kiara could, she tried to ask Emily for whatever she wanted. But as of right now, Emily wasn't home yet, so Kiara had no choice but to ask you.

The curly head runs into your office, where you've been since Kiara got home from school. "Mommy," she says, running up to your chair.

"Hm?" you ask, taking a break from your writing and looking down at your daughter.

"Can I have some chocolate cake?" she asks.

"Kiara, you already had ice cream for dessert. Not tonight, maybe tomorrow."

"Please? I'm hungry," she whines dramatically. "My stomach is crying because it needs sweets."

You caress your daughter's belly. "If you're hungry, you can have something else. No sweets, Kiara."

She pouts up at you. "Mommy!!"

"No sweets, okay? Let me know if you want another snack," you say, turning back to your computer. Kiara storms back to the living room and lies on the couch to pout her life away. Emily comes home from work 20 minutes later, and Kiara lights up and runs up to her. "Mom!!" She runs into Emily's arms as Emily picks her up.

"Missed you," Emily says, kissing her cheek. "Where's mommy?"

Kiara ignores the question. "Can I get a piece of cake?" she asks.

Emily knows you've been trying to be a bit more controlled about the amount of sugar Kiara has, especially so close to her bedtime. But Kiara pouts up at her with her big blue eyes, so Emily compromises, "Just a little piece."

Emily walks with Kiara in her arms to the kitchen and pulls the cake off the high shelf. She sits Kiara on the counter and grabs a knife. "How was school today?"

"No good. Leslie was being a meanie at recess. Didn't pick me for her team, but it's okay. I still did goodest and was on the good team."

"Amazing. That's how we do it," Emily says, giving Kiara a small slice of cake on her favorite purple plate and handing her a fork. Emily gets a slice for herself. "Mommy is the best baker, ain't she?" Emily says to Kiara as she takes a bite.

"Mhmm," Kiara nods, licking her lips.

"I'll be right back. Gonna say hi to her," Emily says, scoffing down the rest of her slice. She heads to your office, cracking the door open. "Hey, beautiful."

You turn back and smile brightly when you see her. "Hi."

Emily walks over to you, picking you up out of your chair and sitting down on the couch with you in her lap. "When was the last time you took a break?"

"I don't know, maybe two hours ago. Made dinner, but now that you're home, I know I won't be working for the rest of the night."

"I just like my girl to rest," she says, leaning in to kiss your lips. Your hand rests on her cheek as you reciprocate. You're wrapped up in each other, Emily's hand sliding up your thigh when you're interrupted by your daughter.

"Mom," she whines. "My tummy hurts." You pull back from Emily, seeing Kiara's hands and mouth completely covered in chocolate. "Kiara," you gasp. "What did you do?" you ask, taking her back to the kitchen to see that Kiara ate a quarter of the cake that was left on the counter beside her, as if she mushed it up with her hands and stuffed it in her mouth. "How did you get this?"

“Mommy gave me some."

"Emily!!!!" you groan as you hear your wife running up the steps to hide from you.

———

You, Emily, and Kiara are walking hand in hand down the street, enjoying the summer weather after Kiara spent some time in the park. After ten minutes of a casual roam on the sunny day, Kiara tugs your hand, "Carry me? My feet hurt."

"Ki, you can walk. You're a big girl."

"How much longer?" she cries out, always one for theatrics.

"It's nice outside, sweetie. We haven't even gone far."

"But I have little feet; they can't go that far." You chuckle at her performance.

"Come," Emily says, holding her arms up to your daughter and picking her up. "Thanks, Mom."

You look over at Emily, narrowing your gaze at her. "What?" She chuckles as she holds Kiara in one arm and locks her free hand with yours. "It's no big deal."

"You spoil her, Emily," you point out.

"No, I don't," she defends.

"What does 'spoil' mean?" Kiara asks with her small arms wrapped around Emily's neck.

"Mommy thinks I give you whatever you want," she explains, and Kiara giggles. "Yes, that's why I always ask Mom, too. She always says yes."

Emily chuckles guiltily. "You're my little girl. I can't say no."

---

Kiara rarely asks you for help with her homework. You are always super helpful, but she knows her mom always does more. And by more, she means doing it for her sometimes without realizing. So, when she receives an assignment from her worst subject, math, she waits until Emily comes home to ask for help.

"Why didn't you ask Ava?" Emily asks, joining her at the table where she was waiting.

"I want your help," she insists.

"Okay. Let's see what we're doing," Emily says, scanning the paper. "Some addition. You've got this."

She brings out the small building blocks you bought to help with Kiara's math homework. "Okay, come on. You know how to do this. 20+11. We can do it with the blocks," she says, counting the blocks for her. "What do these all equal? Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-o…"

"Thirty-one," Kiara finishes excitedly.

"There we go," Emily encourages as Kiara writes down the answer. "Okay, next one. 19+6," she reads off, looking up at her mom.

"What?" Emily chuckles. "You can figure it out, Ki. Do it with the blocks."

Kiara counts out nineteen blocks and adds six more. She looks at her mom, "Twenty-two?"

"Add three more to that."

She looks confused, so Emily says, "How old was I when I married Mommy?"

"Twenty-five," Kiara answers proudly, and Emily nods with a smile as Kiara writes down the answer. Kiara has always been obsessed with your relationship, asking questions about when you met, how old you were when you married, when you had her, and so on.

When Kiara sees a multiplication equation, 1x0, her brain can't process it. She strokes her chin contemplatively to appear as if she's thinking before looking up at Emily, "I don't know it, Mom."

"Problems with zero in them are always hard. Write zero, and let's just go on to the next one," Emily encourages as she hears you walking down the steps. "Hi, baby," you greet, kissing her cheek. Emily wraps her arm around you to pull you into her lap and pecks your neck. "You look good," she says, staring down at your bralette and little house shorts.

You smile at her and peck her lips. "You got Mom to help you, Ki?"

She nods, and you glance at the work. "You're not doing it for her, right?" you check with Emily.

"No, of course not."

You narrow your gaze at your wife before picking up the assignment. "What's 20+11?" you ask Kiara, reviewing the first equation on the page. Kiara looks up to Emily helplessly, and Emily tries to inconspicuously hold up her fingers to help out. You swat at her hands, "You were doing it!"

"No, I wasn't," she laughs. "I was just helping out, right?" she confirms with Kiara.

Kiara nods and smiles innocently at you, but you don't believe the two of them for a second. "Okay, go change. I'm helping her with the rest," you say, getting out of her lap and pushing Emily to go upstairs.

"No, Mommy," Kiara whines. "Mom was helping."

"You two aren't as sly as you think. I'm helping her with homework from now on, Emily."

---

"Mommy said only two things, okay?" Emily reminds Kiara as they roam the toy store. She picked her up from school, and you had suggested taking her to get two things since she's been doing so well in school.

That was the original plan. Only two toys. Emily doesn't know how she ended up with a shopping cart filled to the brim with stuff. She continues to follow her excited daughter around the store as Kiara throws stuff in mindlessly.

"Kiara, you know we can't get all of these, right? We said two things. You have like twenty."

"But I've been a good girl in school," Kiara says, not even looking at her to entertain the statement, picking out more items.

"I know, but we don't even have room for all of this. You have to just pick your favorites," Emily says, picking Kiara up to sit her in the shopping cart with the toys. "Which two do you want?"

"Two is so little," she complains. "How about six because I'm six?" she tries to bargain.

Emily sighs. "Mommy is gonna kill me, Ki. How about four? Nothing too big." Kiara agrees and picks out four of her favorite items, pushing them into her mom's arms.

"Good? These four?" Emily confirms.

"Yes, please " Kiara affirms as they try their best to put everything back.

When they get back home and Emily is unlocking the front door, she says, "Don't tell Mommy. Just go upstairs and put your stuff in your room."

Kiara nods as they open the door and runs at the speed of light up to her bedroom. Emily joins you on the couch. "I'm exhausted," she says, flopping down beside you.

You lean over to give her a kiss. "Did she get her toys?"

"Mhmm."

"How many did she get?"

Emily scratches her head, looking over at you. "What do you mean how many? We said two."

"But I know my wife, and I know you can't say no to her, so how many did you buy?"

She tries to stay strong and continues to appear confused with your questioning but eventually sighs. "Only four."

You chuckle, "I knew you would. That's why I said two knowing you would get a couple more. It's sweet how you can't say no to her."

"She always knows what she's doing. She just does that look with the pout, making her eyes all big. It's your fault for making our daughter so damn adorable." Emily groans. "I swear I will be able to say no soon enough."

"It's been six years, baby."

"Give me another two, I'll be able to hold it down." You smile up at your wife and pull her down to your lips. "Good luck with that."

———

[imjustreadinglmao]

BLUE

Paring: Azriel x Reader, Lucien x platonic!Reader

Summary: After Azriel and Elain‘s courtship is revealed, their mates, Lucien and Y/N, are left to deal with the consequences. While fighting against Koschei and for Prythian‘s freedom, Y/N has to navigate her emotions and learn how to live with the heartbreak of a one sided mating bond. But what happens when long kept secrets are revealed and everything turns out differently than they thought?

PART I

word count: 3k

A/N: this is part 1 of BLUE. I changed the beginning a bit to fit the storyline. Please be nice this is my first fic :)

Warnings: light angst, unrequited love, mention of childhood trauma/ mention of ãbuse (not described)

I stir my black tea as Rhysand files through the report I handed him just seconds ago.

The steam from the tea rises, curling in delicate tendrils, carrying with it a sense of fleeting warmth that I desperately cling to.

Rhysand’s office is both grand and simple.

Bookshelves line the walls, filled with volumes on history, strategy, and magic. A fireplace to the right. Above it, a large portrait of Velaris shows the city bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. Feyre gifted it to him last starfall.

Heavy velvet drapes in shades of midnight blue frame the windows, ready to be drawn shut for privacy.

In the distance I can make out the mountains with their snow-capped peaks and the Sidra winding through the valley below.

“I have to say, I’m impressed you were able to convince Devlon so fast.”

I look up at Rhys and chuckle, the sound hollow to my own ears. “It does help if you threaten to cut his balls off and stake them to the wall for everyone to see.”

Rhys lifts a brow and barks out a laugh. “I see.”

I rarely go on missions anymore, choosing to work as an advisor for Rhysand.

Missions used to be exciting, but nowadays I prefer the comfort my room provides. The sense of security it brings is a balm to my soul, now more than ever.

I take this as a sign to stand up and lift my bag from the floor. I sling it over my shoulder and make my way to the door.

“Don’t forget tonight’s family dinner,” Rhysand calls after me. I don’t look back, just give him a thumbs-up and close his office door behind me.

As I make my way downstairs and through the foyer, I spot Lucien strapping on his sword. Presumably getting ready for training, he has always been an early riser.

“How did the mission go?” Lucien doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s me approaching.

I let out a sigh and rub my temples. “Good.” I stop beside him and flop onto the recamier right next to the front door. “Well, as good as paying the camps a visit can get.”

Lucien cracks a smile at that, his amber eyes twinkle with amusement. He knows exactly how difficult it is to convince Devlon of something he isn’t particularly fond of.

“Are you coming to the family dinner tonight?” I ask, my voice betraying a hint of reluctance.

Lucien sheaths his blade and nods. “Feyre will have my head if I don’t show up. I already missed the last one.”

I cringe at the mention of the last family dinner. The memory alone sends a sharp pang through my chest.

———————

I walk into the dining room, ready to face yet another family dinner. I spot Mor right away, radiant in her blood-red gown. The sight of her is always one of familiarity and comfort.

“Hey, got another one of those?” I point to the wine glass in her hand. She arches a brow and hands me one filled to the brim.

“Are we so exhausting that you need liquid encouragement to get through the night?” she muses. I just roll my eyes, trying to hide my amusement.

Right as she opens her mouth to say something, the back of my head begins to tickle. He is here.

I turn around to see Azriel walk through the door, and he is not alone. Elain is beside him, their hands intertwined.

Even though I was expecting it to happen soon, the sight still hits me like a physical blow. It was always just a matter of time till Azriel and Elain decided to go against Rhys‘s order and make their love official.

I‘m glad, Lucien isn’t here to witness this. I can’t imagine how it would be for him.

Since only my side of the bond snapped into place, seeing how in love they are, is somehow… manageable. For Lucien it would be almost deadly.

I look back at Mor, her expression as shocked as mine. “I didn’t know,” she whispers, her face now bearing a look of worry and pity.

To say the dinner is awkward would be an understatement. Nobody really knows what to say after Elain and Azriel walked in holding hands.

I just shove the potatoes on my plate around, too nauseous to eat anything. The lump in my throat makes swallowing impossible.

Cassian clears his throat and points to Azriel and Elain. “So how long has this been going on?” Nesta jabs her elbow into his ribs, which earns her an “oww”, and throws me an apologetic look.

Besides Mor, only Lucien and Nesta know about the bond between me and Azriel. Their concern a constant reminder of the bond I try so hard to ignore.

“Well…” Azriel coughs, noticeably uncomfortable with being put on the spot. “It all happened very quickly. We spent a lot of our nights up and talking and realized we didn’t want to hold back anymore.”

He gazes down at her, smiling. I recognize that look. The realization twists the knife in my heart.

That’s how I look at him.

—————————

“Are you even listening?” Lucien waves a hand in front of my face to snap me out of my haze. His voice pulls me back to the present, but the ache remains.

I rub my eyes. “Uh… sorry. What exactly were you saying?”

He crosses his arms and looks down at me. “I was asking if you wanted to go training with me. But it seems what you really need is some sleep.”

I roll my eyes and stand up. “You know me so well, Lu.” I pat his shoulder and walk out the door. “See you at dinner tonight.”

Velaris is most beautiful at night, but nothing can beat the quiet and peace of the early mornings.

I walk down the high street, greeting some of my favorite vendors with a smile, until I reach the familiar townhouse.

After I officially became part of Rhysand’s inner circle, he offered me to stay at his townhouse.

It had many perks: no rent, right in the heart of Velaris, and an endless wine supply thanks to Rhysand’s "secret" wine cellar.

There is really only one downside.

“I didn’t think you would be back so soon.” Azriel sits at the dinner table eating breakfast. He has his fighting leathers on, probably on his way to the House of Wind for Valkyrie training.

Cassian and Azriel still train the Valkyries every morning. Sometimes I join, but only when Nesta drags me up there.

“Well, sorry to disappoint.” I laugh awkwardly. “I’m going to head upstairs to rest. Say hello to Nesta for me.” The words taste bitter, a poor attempt to mask the hurt.

I turn around before he has the chance to say something else, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me.

Yes, that is the downside. The constant reminder of what I had lost and could never have.

Him.

——————

The dining room buzzes with conversation as everyone settles in for dinner.

Azriel and Elain sit together, a vision of contentment that sends a pang through my heart.

Across the table, Lucien’s jaw is tight, his gaze fixed on his plate.

“Thank you all for coming,” Rhysand begins, standing at the head of the table. “I have an important announcement to make.”

He glances at Lucien and me, a hint of apology in his eyes. “We’ve decided to support Eris in overthrowing Beron.

Lucien and you,” he points at me, “will lead the mission to the Autumn Court.”

A murmur runs through the room. Lucien looks up, his eyes meet mine.

There is a mixture of determination and vulnerability in his gaze that makes my heart ache.

The Autumn Court doesn’t hold great memories for either of us.

But before I can fully process Rhysand’s words, Azriel stands abruptly, his expression dark and tense.

“Why them?” Azriel’s voice is sharp, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. “Why not send someone else?”

Rhysand frowns slightly, clearly not expecting this reaction.

“Both of them have a unique advantage given their history with Eris and the Autumn Court. It’s a strategic decision.”

Azriel’s eyes flicker to me, a storm of emotions swirling within them. “I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous.”

I feel a surge of frustration. Azriel’s protectiveness, though touching, is misplaced and completely out of character.

“What’s your problem, Azriel?” I snap, unable to hold back.

“I’m more than capable of leading this mission. Or do you think I’m not good enough to do my job?”

His eyes narrow, the tension between us thickening. “That’s not what I meant,” he retorts, his voice lower but no less intense.

“I just don’t think it’s wise to send specifically you two into such a volatile situation. You can’t just throw yourself into danger like that.”

My heart pounds in my chest. “That’s rich coming from you. You’re always in danger, always risking everything. How is that different from this mission?”

“It’s different because—” Azriel stops himself, glancing at Elain, who is watching us with wide eyes. He seems to struggle for a moment before finishing, “It doesn’t matter, just let someone else do the mission. You’re an important asset to this court.”

Before I could respond with something I’d surely regret, Elain’s voice cuts through the tension.

“Azriel, stop.” Her voice is calm but firm, a hint of desperation in her eyes. “This isn’t helping.”

Azriel turned to Elain, his expression softens slightly, but the tension remains. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “I’m sorry. I just… I worry.”

Lucien’s gaze hardens, “We’ve faced worse,” he says, a challenge in his tone. “We are capable enough to lead this mission, we don’t need your approval, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “It’s not about capability. It’s about safety. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

“Anyone?” I echo, my voice rises. “Or just Elain’s mate?”

The words hang in the air, charged with emotion. Azriel flinches slightly.

“This has nothing to do with Lucien being Elain‘s mate,” he says, though the slight tremor in his voice betrays him.

“But it does, doesn’t it?” My words laced with venom. “If Lucien were to get hurt, it would cause Elain distress, that’s how a mating bond works. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Elain looks down, her face unreadable, while Lucien’s gaze flickers between Azriel and me.

“We all know the risks,” Lucien says more calmly this time, “And we’re prepared to face them.”

Rhysand interjects, his voice low but authoritative. “Enough. We’re all on the same side here. This is a mission we need to undertake for the greater good. Personal feelings need to be set aside.”

I take a deep breath and try to steady the storm of emotions within me. Rhysand is right, the last thing we need is Azriel and me fighting.

Rhysand sits down, his tone final. “This mission is vital. We need to trust each other and stay focused. We’ll discuss this further tomorrow. For now, let’s try to enjoy the evening.”

The atmosphere is strained as we resume our meal. I can feel Azriel’s gaze on me.

Lucien reaches over, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it meant everything in that moment.

I don’t say a word throughout the whole dinner. Choosing to stay quiet instead of lashing out.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission would change everything.

---

The garden of the River House is a haven of tranquility. Blooming flowers and lush greenery everywhere Elain truly is a talented gardener.

I find Lucien leaning against a stone pillar, his gaze lost in the Sidra's gentle flow.

I approach him quietly, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. “Mind if I join you?” I ask softly.

Lucien looks up, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Of course not. I was just enjoying the peace before the storm.”

I halt beside him, the tension from the dinner still coils tightly in my chest. “Quite the announcement, wasn’t it?”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I knew something like this was coming, but hearing it confirmed… it’s different.

Eris must be desperate if he reached out to Rhysand.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Yes, it’s a lot. I wish Rhys would have told us separately. This topic is already very emotional I really didn’t need Azriel’s… concern too.”

Lucien’s eyes darken at the mention of Azriel. “He’s protective, that’s clear. But he doesn’t have the right to undermine your abilities.”

“It’s not just that,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “His words, his actions… they confuse me. One moment he’s distant, the next he’s overly concerned. I don’t understand him.”

Lucien’s gaze softens, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “He cares about you. He might not be aware of it but you’re his mate, bond snapping into place or not, it’s his priority to keep you safe. That can’t be changed, even if he’s in love with someone else.”

I look away, the garden blurring before my eyes. “It hurts, Lucien. Seeing him with Elain, pretending to be something they’re not. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Lucien reaches out, his hand covering mine. “You’re not alone in this. We’ve all got our battles to fight, and sometimes the hardest ones are with our own hearts.”

A moment of silence stretches between us, the night air filled with the scent of blooming flowers.

“And what about you?” I ask, turning to look at him. “How are you handling all of this? Eris, the Autumn Court… it can’t be easy for you.”

Lucien’s expression grows somber. “It’s not. But I’ve come to terms with my past and everything my father did to me. I knew this was going to happen. Eris has the chance to change things, to make the Autumn Court a better place. I can’t turn my back on that.”

He smiles at that. “And maybe, when all of this is over, we’ll find some semblance of peace.”

As we stand there, the garden enveloping us in its quiet embrace, I feel a sense of calm settle over me. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I know we have each other’s backs.

—————————

The war room in the House of Wind is filled with dread as we gather around the large oak table.

Rhysand stands at the head, his usual easy demeanor replaced by a grave seriousness.

To his right, Amren sits with her usual enigmatic expression, while Cassian leans against the wall, arms crossed and a stern look on his face.

Azriel is on my left, his gaze unreadable, and Lucien sits across from me, his eyes focused and determined.

Rhysand unfurls a detailed map of the Autumn Court, its forests and strongholds marked with meticulous detail.

“Eris has provided us with information about Beron’s movements and the layout of his court. Our objective is to infiltrate the main stronghold, gather intelligence, and support Eris in his efforts to dethrone Beron.”

Lucien nods, his jaw set. Rhys continues. “We’ll enter through the southern border. Eris has arranged for a distraction that will draw most of Beron’s guards away from the main stronghold. This will give us the opportunity to slip in and meet with Eris.”

Amren leans forward, her sharp eyes assessing the map. “And what about Koschei? He’s been a wild card in all of this. His alliance with Beron could complicate things.”

Rhysand nods in agreement. “Koschei is a concern. According to Eris, Koschei has been providing Beron with dark magic. We need to be prepared for any magical traps or barriers.”

Azriel’s voice cuts through the discussion. “I’ll handle the reconnaissance. I’ll fly ahead and ensure the path is clear before they move in.”

I glance at him, he hasn’t looked at me or said a single thing to me since yesterday. If I didn’t know better I would say he was sulking.

Rhysand continues, “Once inside, our main goal is to secure the throne room and neutralize Beron’s guards. Eris will confront Beron directly. You,” he gestures to Lucien and me, “need to be ready to support him.”

Lucien nods again, his eyes meeting mine across the table. “We’ll be ready.”

Rhysand’s gaze softens slightly as he looked at us. “This mission is dangerous, but it’s necessary. Any questions?”

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the responsibility settle on my shoulders. “What if things go wrong? Do we have an extraction plan?”

Amren smirks. “We have a plan. Azriel and I will be your backup. If things go south, we’ll get you out, girl.”

Azriel nods, his eyes meeting mine. “You won’t be alone out there. We’ll be watching.”

There is a moment of silence as everyone absorbs the gravity of this mission.

Finally, Rhysand speaks again, his voice resolute. “We leave at dawn. Get some rest and prepare yourselves.”

As we all stand to leave, Azriel catches my arm. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod, following him to a quieter corner of the room. “What is it, Azriel?”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I know you’re capable. But this mission… it’s dangerous, and I can’t shake the feeling that something might go wrong. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

His concern should touch me, but I can’t help and feel angry. “I know the risks, Azriel. And I’ll be careful. But you need to trust me to do my part.”

He sighs, running a scarred hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or your abilities. I just… I can’t lose you.”

Before I can respond, Lucien approaches.“Ready?” Lucien asks, his eyes flicker between Azriel and me. I nod, giving Azriel one last look.

“Ready.”

[milla-frenchy]

A summer with the Millers

4k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller | ao3 | Masterlist Summary: you come back to your father's house for summer vacation and want to get closer to your crush (your dad's best friend) and his brother Warnings: 18+ mdni. dubcon (alcohol), mfm, age gap (reader is 21, Tommy and Joel are in their late 30s, early 40s), virgin reader, eager reader, dirty talk, degradation, masturbation, oral (m/f), ball sucking

a/n: dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏❤️ @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing, love you 💕🫶

It was the beginning of summer, and you were coming back to Austin for vacation. Now you lived in the north of the country for your studies, not too far from your mother, since your parents had divorced several years ago. You hadn't been back in Texas since last summer, and you were delighted to see your father. You couldn't wait to enjoy the heat and the pool. You were about to spend several weeks here, and you had been looking forward to the holidays so much that you almost twirled around as you headed towards the airport parking lot to meet your father.

Your phone buzzed, and you saw the text message.

“Sorry, sweetie, I had a setback at work, I'm really sorry. Tommy is coming to pick you up from the airport. I'll see you home very soon. See you tonight, I can’t wait!"

You were a little disappointed not to see your father right away, but Tommy? He was your dad’s best friend, and you had known him for a long time. You’d had a big crush on him for a couple years, and your disappointment quickly gave way to a slight tightening in your heart.

You reached the parking lot where Tommy was already waiting for you, leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette. He threw it away as soon as he saw you and gave you a big smile before taking you in his arms.

“Hey, darlin’! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”

You pulled away from each other, and you weren't sure if your brain was playing tricks, but you felt like you caught his gaze quickly checking out your body.

“Damn, look at you all grown up!”

You smiled at his warm welcome, and your grin reached your ears when he opened the passenger door as a perfect gentleman to let you settle in. When he got behind the wheel and started off, that time you were sure, his eyes lingered for a second or two on your bare legs, which your short skirt barely covered. You smiled. It was going to be a good summer, you were sure of it.

The radio was playing a cool 70s rock song, and you leaned your head against the headrest.

“How old are you now, darlin’? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

"I'm 21. And it hasn’t been that long, I was here last summer,” you replied, laughing.

“Wow, really? Well… you seem like a whole different person now. How are your studies going?”

"Alright! I love studying classic literature. I feel good at my uni but I’m happy to be back in Texas.”

“I bet you do! How’s your mother?”

“She’s fine too. She has a new boyfriend. Well, it's been almost a year now.”

“Alright. I hope he’s not a pain in the ass to ya?”

“No, he’s ok”, you replied.

The trip continued with a really smooth conversation between the two of you. A few times, your eyes dared to linger on his hands placed on the steering wheel. His veins were prominent and his forearms muscular, and you couldn't help but wonder what his hands would feel like on you. “They’d make a perfect collar around my neck…” you giggled softly at the thought. Apparently your crush was stronger than ever. And you were hornier than ever.

You realized Tommy was talking to you and you hadn’t paid attention.

“Mmm, excuse me?” you asked.

“What was your pretty head thinking about?” he asked, looking at you a little longer than usual.

“Oh, nothing special…I’m just glad to be back.”

“I’m glad too, darlin’.” He checked out your legs when you were looking out of the window and couldn't catch him staring, before pulling into your father's driveway and wishing you a good afternoon.

You watched his car back out of the driveway, then he parked in front of his house. The house next to your dad’s. You waved Tommy goodbye when he looked at you before entering his house. You definitely didn't regret that he came to get you instead of your father.

The sun was flooding the dining room. Photos of you and your father adorned the walls. You missed him terribly every year. You called each other often, but of course it wasn't the same as seeing him every day. Like before.

Your bedroom was as you had left it. Everything in its place, every book, every photo, every memory. You lay down on your bed and stroked the soft blanket with your fingertips. For a few moments, your childhood memories came back to you. A bittersweet melancholy of a bygone time.

Quickly you thought about Tommy, and how he had checked you out in the car. It hadn’t been that long since you’d seen each other, but he seemed to like you. Differently. At least you hoped so, and you would soon check if that was indeed the case. As usual, he would often come over to your dad’s house to watch a football game, have a beer, or enjoy the pool. On Sunday, there would be the usual early summer barbecue. You couldn't wait to go through your closet and pick a dress that would make him salivate.

But first you needed to get off. Your fingers slid down your body. Running them from your neck, where you imagined Tommy’s fingers lightly gripping your skin. The warmth of his hand on you. You went down to the hollow between your breasts, brushing them very lightly, before grabbing one of them and twitching the nipple between your fingers until you felt it harden. Your other hand traveled from your navel to your skirt. You brushed against the elastic, then the fabric, until you reached the hem. Pulling your skirt up to your waist, then brushing against your sensitive folds under your panties. For a few minutes, you played with your pleasure. Brushing against your swollen clit with feather light touches. Until impatience gripped you, and you finally slip your hand into your panties. Imagining Tommy’s feverish fingers working their way to reach your soaking pussy. You ran your digits along your soaked folds to wet them, and moved up to your twitching clit, already sensitive. You moaned, softly whispering “Tommy.” Your index finger gently swirled over your little bud of nerves, applying the perfect pressure to make your orgasm build. Your other hand squeezed your breast, and you arched your back as your gasps filled the room. But you needed more. Needed to feel something in your core. Your hand left your breast and slipped into your panties, pushing your middle finger between your folds. Just in time for your pussy to clench on it, a wave hit your trembling body. Imagining Tommy inside you, his face above yours, balls deep in your cunt. His name escaped your lips one last time, with final twitches of your walls against your finger. All you could think about was Tommy, and the sensations he would give you. Sensations you could only imagine, because you were still a virgin.

Your father came back home early in the evening, and you had dinner together, chatted and laughed. You two always had a great relationship. When your parents had divorced, you all had agreed that you would live with your mother, since your father had often been away for work. But you missed him a lot, and summers with him were definitely your favorite time of the year.

Tommy came by your house a few times in the days that followed. But not once did you see his gaze on you like it had happened in his car on the way back from the airport. You were disappointed, but since your father was home every time he visited, you figured that maybe Tommy didn't want to risk something in his presence.

The barbecue day arrived, finally. You had chosen a short summer dress with white and yellow pattern, thin straps, no bra underneath. Black lace panties completed the ensemble.

You were impatiently waiting for Tommy to arrive, and you knew he would be among the first guests. You were busy setting the table when you heard your name. Tommy was approaching you and he wasn't alone. Joel, his brother, was with him. He was slightly older than Tommy, and you hadn't seen him in several years. You didn't remember him being so hot and you lost your breath when you saw him. They hugged you, and If Tommy kept a friendly attitude, Joel looked at you from head to toe and smirked, while your dad was busy with the other guests. Arousal instantly burned you from the inside out.

So you decided to go a little further. You seeped your beer while staring and smiling at Tommy or Joel, played with a lollipop redder than your lips while looking at them, or talking to them. You saw Joel readjust himself twice, and Tommy looked away a few times. But his bulge left no doubt about the effect your little game had on him.

The last guests were leaving, and you wished everyone a good evening. Saving your warmest, playful smile for the Millers. Your father had drunk a little too much, and told you he was going to bed. You walked him to his bedroom, helped him take off his shoes, and covered him with his blanket. Then you went into the garden and sat in one of the deckchairs, a beer in hand. You had drunk more than usual but you felt good, a little dizzy but not too much, and you wanted to end the evening like that, looking at the stars.

“You haven’t gone to bed, darlin’?”, you heard from the aisle. Tommy and Joel were heading back towards you.

“No, not yet, I’m still enjoying the evening,” you added, raising your beer bottle at them. “Did you forget something?”

“Yeah, my phone. There it is,” Tommy added.

“Wanna join me for another beer?”

“Yeah, sure”, said Joel. They took beers from the cooler, then brought two deck chairs closer to yours. Conversation was easy with them. Both were quite talkative.

As for you, you laughed even more than usual, thanks to the beers you had drunk. The effect of the alcohol seemed much less stronger on Tommy and Joel.

“It’s getting late, I'm gonna put away the leftovers”, you said, getting up.

“Let us help you, sweetheart,” offered Joel.

You took the salad bowls and went down to the basement to put them in the fridge. You found yourself really close to Joel as you walked through the door, and he clung to you wholeheartedly. 

“So, baby... what was that little game all evening?”

“You liked it?” you asked, shamelessly.

“Oh, sweetheart, are you sure you know what you’re gettin’ into?”

“What are you doin’, Joel?” asked Tommy.

“Just what she wants. Come on, she’s been hitting on us all day.”

“Her father’s here, Joel. He’s… He’s my best friend.”

“Drank way too much. We heard him snoring from the dining room. And she can fuck whoever she wants, it’s not her father’s problem. She’s 21.”

“I… I don’t know man.. I’ve known her since… forever.”

"Jesus. She's an adult. You wanna have fun, baby?”

“Yes! Yes, please. Come on, Tommy, I wanna play with you too”, you added, flirting openly.

Tommy's remorse quickly dissipated, you weren’t sure if you had to thank the beers for that or not. The two brothers' bodies pressed against yours two seconds later. Tommy's lips sought yours, while Joel's covered your neck with kisses. The four hands caressed your waist and breasts, and you felt their hard cocks pushing against you. Virility and masculinity emanated from them. Strength, too. They were men, not boys or young men, and had a totally different energy than the guys you had dated so far. And even though your desire for the two brothers was soaking your panties, you started to fear that maybe you wouldn’t be able to manage what was going to happen next.

“Wait, wait”, you breathed out suddenly, while your hands were lost in Tommy’s wavy hair. They pulled away from you slightly at the same time, respecting your uncertainty.

“What is it, darlin’?” Tommy asked you gently.

“I… uh. Fuck.” You looked at him with a mixture of different emotions in the eyes. Joel stood in front of you, side by side with his brother.

“I…damn. I’m a virgin”, you finally confessed, looking down at the ground.

“What the…” Joel said with raised eyebrows, pulling away from you and taking a few steps into the basement, hands on hips.

“Well… I played with dildos but… not real dicks.”

“Christ, darlin’ we can't… We can’t do that” said Tommy, shaking his head.

“You’re a virgin? How is it even possible? I mean… You’re screaming for our cocks and you never took one?” added Joel.

“I just… I dated guys but they were jerks. I never wanted to fuck one of them. Plus…”

“Plus what?” asked Joel.

Alcohol gave you some courage, or unconsciousness, and you murmured “I couldn’t get Tommy out of my head.”

“No shit”, chuckled Joel, “my little bro is a crush of his best friend's daughter…”

“Shut up, Joel. Darlin’, what are you talking-”

“Oh come on, Tommy. You saw how I looked at you. And I saw how you looked at me. I’m an adult. And… you’re hot. Both of you. We can have fun, right? I guess you don't fuck virgins every day. I just need you to go slow."

“No. No way. We can’t do that. Not here, not now… we can’t do that Joel. It was one thing to fuck her. But having her first time with us here? With her father upstairs? No way.”

“Alright, alright. What if… We’d do other things?”

“What things?”

“Using our hands and mouths. We could play with her mouth too.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, man. And she drank too much to think clearly”, said Tommy.

“She wasn’t drunk when she was teasing us as soon as we arrived. You want this, baby?” Joel asked, looking at you.

“Yes”, you answered firmly.

“Both of us?”

“Yes.”

Joel moved closer to you, took off your dress, and whistled before looking at his brother.

“We have fun. But we don’t fuck her. Not with our cocks, at least.”

“That’s twisted, Joel”, Tommy murmured, but without being able to take his eyes off your body.

“That’s hot as fuck.”

“Fuck… Ok. Ok...”

A few seconds later, you found yourself on the couch in that basement with Tommy’s shoulders between your thighs.

“Your panties’re soaked, baby, jesus…” he said.

“Told you I wanted it…” you flirted.

“Fuck”, he said, caressing your folds through the fabric, before removing them and spreading your thighs slightly to reveal your pussy. “Damn, look at that, Joel…”

Joel moved closer and Tommy spread you further, so his brother had a perfect view of your bare, dripping pussy.

“What a juicy cunt… Already all swollen up. Can’t wait to taste it. But you go first, man.”

“Yeah”, Tommy breathed out just before he licked a long stripe from your folds to your clit. 

You were already moaning at this new sensation. So different from the one you felt when you were making yourself come with your fingers, or even a sex toy. Tommy's tongue ran through your folds, his mustache and beard tickled your fine skin. Then danced at your core, and swirled over your clit, and you didn't know whether to hold on to his hair or his shoulders. Sometimes you would open your eyes and watch Joel, staring where his brother was eating you out, his hand squeezing his crotch to relieve the tension. Tommy pushed one finger in your cunt, and you stared at Joel as you came on Tommy’s finger, his tongue resting on your clit.

“Fuck, that’s hot baby, seeing you all spread like that for my brother…”

Tommy was so pussy drunk from being the first one to lick you that he almost came in his boxers when you clenched on his finger and moaned. He pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you felt slightly embarrassed seeing how his mustache and beard glistened from your wetness. Then he got up and slowly pulled his cock out of his pants, and you saw the red, dripping tip of his thick length.

“You wanna suck my cock, darlin’?”

You nodded enthusiastically, but Joel firmly told you “words, baby.”

“Yes. Yes, I wanna suck your cock, Tommy.”

“You’ve never sucked a cock before either?” Joel asked as he in turn knelt between your thighs.

“No… uh Joel? Are you gonna…?”

“Eat ya? Yeah. Fuck yeah. Ya want it?”

“Yeah…Yeah, I want it.”

“You got it, then.”

He spat on your cunt and you gasped, then he spread it with his thumb, careful not to overstimulate you. 

“How many times did you get off thinking about my brother, baby?” he asked before licking your soaking pussy.

“A… a lot”, you whimpered, your hands tightening his curls, as you spread your legs as wide as possible to give him full access.

“Yeah, you got off, thinking of my brother’s tongue in your cunt? His fingers? His cock?”

“Yeah”, you breathed out.

“Damn, little brother. What a good little toy we got here...”

The way he was talking about you made you moan, and he buried his tongue between your folds. 

Thinking that his brother was eating your pussy a few minutes before was turning you on like never before. 

Thinking that the first time someone went down on you, he did it in front of his brother, before he took his place. And you were already wondering if you could convince Tommy to make them take your virginity, and if Joel would lie down between your thighs after his brother. Filling you both with their cum. The thought, coupled with Joel's tongue, made you cum a second time so quickly that you didn’t feel it coming.

“She’s so sensitive…I wonder how many times we’re gonna make her cum, Tommy.”

Tommy was lazily jerking off while watching his brother eat you out. When your shaking stopped, his eyes darkened and he said “sit down, sweetheart. Will be easier to blow me.”

You obeyed, blushing slightly under their gaze on your bare body, but eager to taste his thick cock. 

You had watched tons of porn and knew how to do it. But you wanted to hear Tommy tell you what to do, to be in charge. You let him grab your chin between his fingers, and lift it towards him. Applying a light pressure to it.

“Open up for me, darlin’.”

You parted your lips, and he bent over, dropping his saliva in your mouth, which you swallowed right away.

“Gonna be sloppy for me?”

You nodded, eyes fixed on him.

“Stick out your tongue and lick my slit, baby. Wanna see your pretty throat swallow what I’m givin’ you.”

You darted your tongue out and twirled it around his tip, then swallowed his precum. Tasting it for the first time. He held his cock tightly in his hand while the other was holding the back of your head as he pushed his tip between your lips.

Joel had just finished another beer and was watching you suck his brother while palming his crotch.

“How is she?”, he asked.

“Good. Fuckin’ good. A little shy and unsure. It's fuckin’ hot.”

“Can you imagine, her first time playing naughty for real, she wants not one, but two cocks? What kinda slut does that?”

If Joel thought he was embarrassing you by talking about you like that, he was wrong. You pulled back and your eyes fixed on his brother, as you asked feigning shy tone “you like being sucked by your best friend’s daughter, Tommy?” Batting your long eyelashes at him, making Joel chuckle “well, damn…”

“Fuck… You’re a naughty thing, darlin’, aren’t ya? Naughty things like you don’t keep their mouths empty. Keep suckin’.”

You smiled and took him back in your mouth, applying yourself, attentive to his moans and sucking him according to his sensitivity.

Joel opened two beers and offered one to his brother who took sips regularly, his other hand resting on the back of your head while fucking your mouth and throat. Joel sat on the couch next to you, and took out his cock, wanking slowly while drinking his beer too.

“I think my brother needs some relief, baby. Be a good girl and lie down.”

Once laid down, Joel spread your thighs indecently, exposing your soaking wet pussy.

“Gonna let me play with that little cunt, sweetheart?”

You nodded, just before Tommy slipped his cock back in your mouth. Drinking his beer at the same time. Being used like this was turning you on more and more. Both of them still had their clothes on, and you found it so hot. Making you feel even more used. 

“Imagine how tight she must be. How she’d squeeze our cocks, if we fucked her like she begs to be. One day, don’t freak out little brother.”

“I know, fuck, stop talking about that or I’m gonna nut.”

Joel smirked and spread your glistening folds with his thumbs and you felt your wetness flowing down to your asshole. He spat on your cunt and you moaned.

“She just loves that,” Tommy smirked, thrusting deeper in your throat.

Joel hummed, and brushed his beer bottle between your folds, and you tensed noticeably.

“Come on, Joel, don’t be a jerk.”

Joel chuckled again, and said “you know I won’t do that. I’m not gonna split her open with a bottle. At least not for her first time. Just wanted to spice up my beer.” 

He took a sip of his beer, covered with your wetness.

“Way better, now.”

“Fuck”, said Tommy, watching him.

Joel rubbed his shaft along your folds, making you moan, mouth full of Tommy’s cock. Feeling his cock against your pussy was an overwhelming sensation. So different from feeling a cold dildo. Your hips rolled against Joel’s shaft and he growled.

“Don’t fuck her, Joel”, Tommy warned. 

“Yeah. I know. Fuck, I know, I know. Her cunt is trying to swallow me, man, you see that?”

“Yeah… Our little whore. When did you become such a cockslut, baby? Your father raised you as a good, proper girl, and look at you playing with our fat cocks…not that I'm complaining, takin’ such good care of us, damn.”

Joel’s precum was mixing with your wetness and he rubbed his tip against your clit.

“ ‘m gonna come soon… gonna shoot my load on that pretty pussy, cover her in white, fuck…”

“Suck my balls, baby… gonna come soon too.”

Tommy grabbed his big balls and let them cover your mouth and chin as he started to jerk off. You licked, sucked his balls eagerly, like you've seen dozens of times in porns.

“Look at that Joel, holy shit. Better than your lollipop, uh darlin’?”

“See brother, who gives a shit she’s your best friend's daughter? We could rail her all summer, ruin her pretty holes every fucking day. Teach her how to be a perfect fuck.”

Their dirty talk, the way they were talking about you as if you weren’t even here, made you melt and despite your sore jaw, you couldn’t stop licking Tommy’s balls, still jerking off.

“Fuck, darlin’, yeah just like that. Keep suckin’ my balls. Oh god. Fuck!”

His cum spurted out, white pearls falling onto your hair and face as his hand held your mouth pressed against his balls.

You heard Joel growl and he grabbed your hand, holding it against his shaft sliding along your folds, until he came too, his cum covering your pussy and fingers. His jerks against your clit made you cum one last time, your pussy desperately empty, and you only wished to squeeze their shafts soon enough.

“Jesus… you dried our balls so good, baby.”

They tucked their cocks into their jeans, looking at you still lying on the couch covered in their cum, breathing heavily. Tommy brought you a towel and they helped you up.

“You liked it baby? You liked being a good slut for us?

“Never felt better, actually”, you smiled.

The next morning when you came down for breakfast, your father had already made you coffee and toasts.

“Did you have a good evening, sweetie? I think I passed out… Did you help me in to my bedroom? I can’t remember a thing, I'm sorry sweetie.”

“I did, don’t worry ‘bout that, dad, it’s totally ok!”

“I wasn't a very good host or proper father last night. Wasn't it too much work to put everything back together?”

“No, don’t worry. Tommy and Joel helped me.”

“Oh great. I’m glad they helped you, can’t say I’m surprised they did. They’re good Texans, with proper manners.”

“They really are”, you smiled warmly.

That evening, you knocked on Tommy's door. Joel's figure appeared behind him when he opened it.

“I want more,” you murmured.

***********

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring

[dragonsholygrail]

*rolls into chat*

Hi. I'm sharing this because of your last post btw

Firefighter centaur!

Reader has to help him get all the gear off after a long tiring day because that's a LOT of hair for someone who works with fires and accidents.

*welcomes into chat with open arms*

And omg this is so good!! (I went off, my bad!) I also had to re-write this entire thing when I was almost done because my tumblr crashed and I’m absolutely devastated but worth it for firefighter centaur.

Imagine firefighter centaur works in forest fires so it’s all the more dangerous and on such a bigger scale when he does get called in. Which of course makes reader even more nervous whenever there’s a fire.

Constantly pacing the living room of your shared home, biting your nails, with your eyes latched firmly on to the tv. Not being able to look away for even a second. Just waiting to hear any news about the crew of centaur firefighters as they come in and out of the blazing flames.

Your heart drops heavily into your stomach as you catch sight of him, being able to recognize him anywhere. You find yourself unable to breathe as you watch your partner jump over a burning trunk with ease. All while carrying a handful of nymphs to safety. A couple in his arms and a few riding his back.

Watching your partner be so heroic like that takes your breath away. Or maybe it’s just because you’re relieved he’s alive. Either way it sends a violent need to thrum through your body. A need to go to him and be near him, no matter the risk. You don’t hesitate for a moment and you’re out of the house before you can even turn off the television.

There’s barricades all over the place when you arrive at the scene. Your eyes search frantically around the area, looking for just one feature that you’re familiar with to find him. But your heart is hammering within your chest and your mind spins with more horrible ‘what ifs’ by the minute.

Given your state, it was no surprise to you that he found you first, calling out your name. You whirl around till your eyes fall onto him. Both of you immediately start heading toward each other. You meet in the middle, arms wrapping tightly around each other. Your firefighter centaur smells so thickly of smoke you want to choke. But none of that matters because he’s in your arms and in one piece. No matter how much of his fur is singed.

“What the hell are you doing here? You could have been hurt!” Your partner shouts, sounding almost as frantic as you feel. He leans back enough to cup your face in his hands, looking as though he’s wondering if this is real.

“I saw you- I saw you come through the fire. And there’s so many things on you that it could’ve caught onto. I had to. I had to come. I had to see you and make sure…” you ramble on, words spilling from your mouth. Your mind unraveling now that you know he's sate. "You're alive."

His face softens considerably and he brings you back into his arms.

"Well you got here just in time. I think the fires coming down anyway." He holds you tight and you clutch onto him just as fiercely. Using his strong hold to assure yourself he's really here.

After you both get back to the firehouse you slowly and gently help him take off all his gear. You can tell he's seriously exhausted. Eyes drooping, shoulders slumped, and tail swooshing lazily.

You let him relax as you get started on cleaning up and preparing his gear for washing. It's a rigorous ritual all on its own and you know he's in no state to take care of it right now. But when he blinks his eyes open and realizes what you're doing, it doesn't stop him from trying to do it anyway.

“Hey, stop that. I can do it fine,” he sluggishly tries to interrupt, not wanting you to do his work for him.

All you have to do is shy away from his mindlessly wandering hands, bringing his gear with you. Unintelligible grumbles leave his lips in response.

“I know how to do it. Watched you so many times it would be an insult if I didn’t. I got this,” you assure him.

After all he went through he doesn’t have the energy to fight you on this. When he doesn’t reply you go back to helping situate his gear. You hear the heavy clops of his hooves and a moment later his arms are wrapping around you from behind, his head resting comfortably on top of your head.

“Thank you,” he says softly, those two words alone dripping with appreciation and love for you.

The firehouse is empty, you two being the last ones left to finish up for the night. It’s in that moment, his body curled up around you as you help him in a way that means more than he can describe, that it was as if neither of you had ever felt safer.

[martybaker]

Over the rainbow

So I know we love torturing or at least inconveniencing retired Dream with new human ailments and realities, I love doing that as well, but the thesis of this was - what if Dream retired and he finally got to be at peace and all was well, actually 🥹

(started this for prompt First time for dreamling week but here we are over a week late)

————

“I’ve never been kissed,” Dream announces.

He’s settled on the far end of Hob’s sofa with his knees up, chin settled on top of them and arms loosely hugging his legs, somehow looking both comfortable and relaxed as well as like a model in the middle of a photoshoot.

Hob’s had a hard time not staring but when Dream says that line his eyes immediately snap to the vision on his couch, clothed in hues of beige, wrapped in Hob’s own softest cardigan, and he nearly spills the tea that he was bringing for a sip.

“Huh? What?” He asks dumbly, voice unnaturally high pitched.

Dream merely blinks at him and waits him out.

When the wheels in Hob’s brain start turning again he does try to parse that statement, but all he can come up with is: “But…you’ve had relationships? You had a wife and all, did you not kiss? Was it all like, metaphysical or-“

Dream rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “Of course I’ve kissed my partners. Let me rephrase the statement. Murphy has never been kissed.”

Oh.

Dream’s talking about his new human body. His new self, that he named Murphy, a name to be used for dull but necessary identity paperwork that Hob obtained for Dream through rather illegal means.

It’s only been a little over a month since Dream turned human, but he’s been very…calm while settling into his new reality. The retirement was his own choice and he seemed to be perfectly content with his decision, despite the fact that he was forced to live with Hob in his messy little apartment while they figure something of his own for him.

Well, if.

Dream also seemed perfectly content in Hob’s space and showed no interest whatsoever in looking at flat listings.

Not that Hob minded. He would happily spend every minute every day with his friend, if it wouldn’t make him feel guilty about slacking on his job and his students. After all, Hob’s chosen career wasn’t just to keep himself busy, he really enjoyed teaching young impressionable minds about days past, keeping the history alive. Remembering.

But his joy in teaching was currently found lacking compared to the newfound joy of Dream in his home. Not just visiting, robed in dark colors, taking time off of his duties to spend a moment with Hob, but human, dressed in earthly colors, there in the mornings for shared breakfasts and still there in the evenings when Hob returned. Reading a book, slowly going through Hob’s vast vinyl collection, playing the piano, painting, knitting, molding clay. Pale blue eyes focused and clever hands at work, creating, always creating. He’s always been an artist and that part of him stayed true, despite the big change.

All things considered, Hob’s really been having a hard time keeping his foolish heart in check. And with Dream saying things like this, things like-

“This mouth has never been kissed.”

Hob’s eyes drop to Dream’s lips as soon as Dream says that, just to see them twitch in a pleased smile.

Hob stares at him, at a loss for words, while Dream looks back at him expectantly. Expecting…an answer? A reassurance?

Hob clears his throat. “Well…I’m sure it will be? It’s a very lovely mouth,” he says, unable to stop the blush coloring his cheeks.

Dream sighs a long suffering sigh and pets the couch next to himself. “Come here,” he commands.

There’s no ancient power of a monarch of the Dreaming behind it anymore, but Dream still keeps his regality, his head held high, a quiet gravitas to him. Not quite the same as when he was an Endless, but still there.

Confident, elegant, graceful.

And calm, like the still water of an indigo lake high in the mountains.

Hob blinks. What was the question? Oh, right, he was being summoned. He moves to sit next to Dream.

Dream turns towards him, leans in and closes his eyes.

Is he…?

Hob is frozen in shock once again. “Ahh, you, you want me to…?”

Dream opens his sky blue eyes again, staring into Hob’s soul. “Yes,” he says decisively.

There’s a beat when they just stare into each other’s eyes and then Dream closes his again. Waiting, alluring lips just a few inches from Hob’s.

But Hob’s having a crisis. They’ve never done this before! Dream’s never said anything about being…attracted to Hob, he’s never suggested, he never seemed interested that way.

One time, Hob got drunk and Dream had to drag his ass upstairs to bed, and Hob was just enough at his senses to remember that he slurred: “D’ya know what I like best about being immortal?”

“What,” Dream asked as he pulled Hob upwards, making sure he wouldn’t stumble on the stairs.

And Hob smiled goofily and said: “You.”

Dream just blinked at him. He didn’t say anything, not then, not when Hob got propositioned by the shopkeep when they were out together, browsing for new (old) records, not when Death was visiting and she teased if they changed their dates to weekly instead of centennialy.

Not when they were walking in a park, and Dream seemed to be watching a couple on another path on a stroll as well, holding hands.

Hob’s good mood made him act foolish, he reached out a hand in offering, but Dream… he just stared at it. Hob quickly withdrew it, running it through his hair, chuckling nervously. “I was just teasing,” he said weakly, but by that point he was sure his feelings were transparent and Dream’s lack of reaction was a clear signal.

Then again, maybe this was just harmless experimentation? Wanting to know what it feels like, being kissed as a human?

But Hob still hesitates. He feels too strongly about Dream to casually mess around without being wary of the consequences.

“Uhh, wait. I, are you sure? I don’t-“

Dream sighs and his patience with Hob apparently runs out because he pulls Hob towards him by his shirt, kissing him square on the lips.

Hob makes a surprised sound, but then he closes his eyes and falls into the kiss.

It’s unhurried and rather chaste, yet Hob’s heart seems to be doing its best trying to jump out of his chest.

Dream pulls away, slowly opening his eyes.

“How….how did that feel?” Hob asks, reminding himself that this was just an experiment. A one time deal.

Dream contemplates his answer. “Different,” he says.

“Different than when you were..Endless?

“Yes.”

“Good different or bad different?”

Dream frowns. “No such dichotomy applies,” he says, and then he leans back in again and Hob leans away.

He chuckles nervously. “Ahh, haha, hold on. You’re gonna make me think you like kissing me.” He tries to turn it into a joke, holding Dream lightly by his shoulders, trying to prevent him from darting forward again.

Dream glares at him. “And what, pray tell, is making you think I don’t.”

“Oh…really?” Hob lets go of one bony shoulder to pinch his own arm. Surely, he’s still asleep and this is just a …dream.

Dream’s glare turns even more unimpressed. “You’re awake,” he says, sharp, and as if to prove his point he kisses Hob again, more hungrily and passionately, biting at his lower lip, Hob’s hold too slack to hold him back.

They kiss and kiss and it’s far from chaste this time, Dream seems to have made it his mission to explore Hob’s mouth thoroughly, while his hands explore his chest.

Hob’s hand burrows into Dream’s hair, he isn’t able to hold back now, kissing back with vigor, treasuring Dream’s every gasp.

They’re both breathing hard by the time they part - by the time Hob has to pull Dream back by his hair to stop him from diving back in.

He can’t help but laugh. “You do actually need to breathe now, you know.”

Dream doesn’t seem too pleased with this reminder. He huffs, sitting back onto his heels.

Hob already misses the feeling of him in his arms.

He clears his throat. There’s a very important question to be asked first.

“Is it…just the kissing that you like?”

Dream tilts his head at Hob like a cat, measuring him. “You cannot tell?”

Hob shakes his head.

“You’re not very bright, Hob Gadling,” Dream says, and Hob would protest, he would tease back, but the words get stuck in his throat when Dream takes Hob’s hand into his own, putting it on his chest and making Hob feel his racing heartbeat.

Hob inhales, blushing.

“You…I…,” he sighs, searching for words. “I still have a lot to learn,” he offers, smiling at Dream.

“As do I,” says Dream.

It is marvelous seeing Dream like this. His words are confident but his heart beats wildly under Hob’s hand, pink colors his cheeks, chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

He’s trusting Hob with this, with his very human body whose reactions he cannot temper, cannot regulate.

Hob chuckles, feeling warm.

He loves this, the marvelous feeling of finding out your crush likes you back, the feeling that’s always incredible, no matter the time and place, no matter how many times he’s experienced it. One of his favorite feelings, the ones that make life an amazing journey.

“I really thought you weren’t interested in me like that,” he says.

Dream sighs. “I…could not be.”

Hob’s heart aches.

He has to touch, now that he’s allowed, now that he’s invited to. He kisses Dream’s forehead, his cheeks, delighting in the sighs he earns.

He kisses Dream's neck and Dream tilts his head for better access, making Hob feel lightheaded and so full of happiness he can hardly contain it. “I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you now,” he warns. “I’ll kiss you a hundred times every day.”

“A thousand times” Dream says, and Hob laughs, scraping his teeth against alabaster skin, making Dream moan.

He smirks, gaining back his confidence now that he knows Dream means this. He holds him around the waist, pulling him closer.

“I did learn a certain thing or two over the years,” he says slyly, dipping Dream backwards, laying him on the couch. Dream sighs indulgently, wrapping his hands around Hob’s shoulders, holding him close.

“Want me to show you?” Hob asks, and Dream hums in confirmation, pulling him for another kiss.

Soft notes play from the old record player, outside warm spring sun rays melt the last reminders of winter, birds chirp their welcoming songs.

Hope is in the air.

Dream’s here, in Hob’s home, in his arms. The cold weeks when he was distant and quietly hurting and Hob could sense something was very, very wrong but didn’t know how to fix it now seem like a distant memory too.

Hob pulls back for a second, holding Dream’s head in his hands, savoring the moment.

“Will you stay?” he whispers.

Dream inhales, his hand shaking a little when he places it on Hob’s cheek, caressing Hob’s lips with his thumb.

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” he says, smiling.

————

[beneathstarryskies]

Word Count: 2,986

Summary: At his low point, Geto decided to take a change on striking up a conversation with someone at a cafe. This conversation drives him into finding a new purpose.

Warnings: smut, fem!reader, oral (f!recieving), unprotected sex, depression, AU!Geto (he doesn't become a genocidal maniac), pussy saves lives, also Nanami makes a brief appearance

A/N: Shout out to my babygirl @actuallysaiyan for helping me stay inspired to finish this ❤️

Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. Exorcise. Consume. Repeat. 

It’s a brutal, mind-numbing cycle Geto has been stuck in for so long he doesn’t know if he’s capable of doing anything else. No matter what kind of path he tries to imagine for his future, it also comes down to the same cycle. He doesn’t recognize himself anymore. He never sees Satoru or Shoko. He feels stuck. Like a caged animal being prodded with sticks and struck by stones. 

It’s like watching a car crash and being unable to look away. Or worse it was like hearing the gunshot and then seeing Riko fall to the ground. That feeling of utter helplessness has never left except now he’s the one holding the gun and he doesn’t know where he’s going to point it. 

“I’m fucking done,” he hears Kento Nanami’s voice. The utter disdain in his voice is what grabs Suguru’s attention. Nanami is carrying a duffel bag on his shoulders, and Suguru sees him in something aside from his uniform for the first time.

“Kento, what’s wrong?” Suguru asks, setting aside his soda to walk outside. When Kento turns to face him, there’s an anxious look in his eyes. His jaw is set tight. 

“What are we dying for, Suguru?” Nanami asks. “I mean seriously?” 

“To…protect…” Suguru winces at the lack of conviction in his words. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Nanami rolls his eyes. “I’m out of here. I want to fucking live, okay?” 

Live. 

What does a life without sorcery even look like? Nanami has always been a bright spark of intelligence, and he’d shyly told Suguru a few months back he’d been accepted into college. Suguru wonders if he’d ever be able to get into college, but somehow he doubts it. 

He watches the younger sorcerer get into the car and then leave. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever see Nanami again, and part of him hopes the answer is no. He wants Nanami to live as he said. 

Geto goes to grab his soda from where he left it, then he starts towards his dorm. He can’t stop thinking about what Nanami said. When he returns to his room, he changes clothes instead of moping around as he had planned. He puts on black pants and a sweater before going outside to get on his motorcycle. He rides into the city, not knowing exactly where he’s going until he ends up in front of a coffee shop. He doesn’t know why he stops here, but it’s better than wandering. 

He walks inside, and heads to the counter to order a coffee. He’s standing at the other end waiting for it to get done when he notices you. 

You’re sitting in a table by the window, scribbling away in your notebook. He can hear you humming softly, a song he vaguely recognizes. He’s never been one to approach strangers like this, but he likes the look of you. You’re pretty and you seem just unaffected. 

“Hi,” he says shyly as he approaches you with his coffee. “Can I sit?” 

“Oh, sure!” you smile softly and move your things. He’d expected you to look around at least to see if the other seats were taken before accepting him into your space, but you didn’t. “Nice bike,” you say sweetly. “I saw you pull up earlier.” 

“Ah, thanks. Sometimes I think it takes more work to keep her on the road than it’s worth.” 

“Everyone needs a pet project,” you shrug. 

Geto grins but hides it behind taking a sip of his coffee. You close your notebook and slide it into your bag. 

“I’m Geto Suguru,” he introduces himself. You smile and introduce yourself as well. He can’t remember the last time he spent more than five minutes in the company of a non-sorcerer. Ever since what happened at the temple…Seeing all those people cheer for Riko’s death…The thought of non-sorcerers made his stomach turn. 

“Do you go to the university?” you ask, and he realizes he has ventured close to the college. He wonders if it’s the same one Kento will be attending. 

“Me? No,” he chuckles. “You?” 

You nod, “Yeah, I’m actually between classes right now.” 

“What are you studying?” 

The second the question leaves his lips, a spark of excitement enters your eyes. You begin rambling animatedly about your studies, your future plans, and sharing pieces of knowledge you’ve picked up. His heart swells with affection as the way you smile when talking about it. Then, your smile fades into shyness and you look down at your coffee cup. 

There had been a time 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on like that,” you say shyly.

“No, please, don’t apologize,” he smiles. He wants to reach out to take your hand. Not just for your comfort but for his sanity, he wants to seek connection. His hand is already on the table, fingers stretching out in search of yours. He stops himself, but barely. He closes his fist and pulls his hand back. If you’d noticed, it didn’t dull the sparkle in your eyes. 

“I have to go to class, but would you like to exchange numbers?” you ask, and you’re already digging your notebook out of your bag again. 

“I’d like that,” Suguru grins as he watches you scribble your name and number. You pass it to him, and he feels a jolt of happiness when your fingers touch. It’s been so long since he felt someone’s touch. 

“Will you text me, for real?” you ask as you put your notebook away again. 

“I really will,” he smiles and carefully folds the paper.

Suguru returns to campus feeling something shift inside of him. He wants to live. 

Satoru is leaning against the wall beside the door to Suguru’s dorm. He’s looking at his phone, feeling so secure he doesn’t even look up to see who is approaching. 

“Where have you been?” Satoru asks. “I’ve been waiting forever.” 

“I went out on my bike,” Suguru opens the door. “Are you coming in?” 

“Yeah, duh,” Satoru follows him inside his dorm. It’s been ages since they hung out, but it’s never awkward between them. Still, Satoru notices something is different about Suguru. He seems relaxed. “So what have you been up to?” 

“Oh, you know, exorcise, consume, repeat…” Suguru wonders what will happen to the curses inside of him. When he leaves the jujutsu world, he guesses the curses will remain a part of him. 

“Nanami left,” Satoru says as he sits on the bed. 

“I know, I spoke with him.” 

“Too bad…I like Nanami,” Gojo pouts. 

“He hates you.” 

“No he doesn’t, he just pretends he does.” 

Suguru smirks, “Alright, Satoru.” Suguru leans against the wall, studying Satoru carefully before speaking again. This time he’s quieter, more serious. It’s a tone Satoru knows requires attention. “Have you ever though about leaving?” 

“Where would I go?” Satoru shrugs. 

“I suppose it’s different for you.”

Unlike most sorcerers, Satoru benefits greatly from being a sorcerer just by being who he is. He’s afforded almost any privilege imaginable. Suguru doubts Satoru would know how to function as a normal member of society. 

“Are you going to leave, Suguru?”

“I don’t know, Satoru.” 

**

You were shocked when Geto texted you. Part of you had figured he’d forget your shared moment in the coffee shop. You spend weeks chatting back and forth. You like him. He seems kind and intelligent in ways different from most of the people you meet. He hasn’t pushed for a date or in-person meeting again. He doesn’t ask for nudes or surprise you with a dick pic. You almost wonder if you’ve imagined him. 

Then, one night, after weeks of texting, he asks if you want to go out the coming weekend. You’re shocked, but thrilled, to receive the invitation. You agree to meet at a restaurant for dinner. 

For the next few days, Suguru focuses on settling into his new apartment so it’s not a mess on your date night. He doesn’t want to assume you’ll come back to his place, but his time as a sorcerer taught him to be prepared for any possibility. 

His preparation proves to be a good idea on the night of your date when he talks you into coming back to his place. It didn’t take much convincing on his part. You’ve been wanting to spend more time with him ever since you started texting. He holds your hand as he opens the door to let you inside. 

His heart is racing as he guides you to the couch and lets you settle in. You notice right away how sparse the decoration is. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he offers. Truth be told, lately, he’s been drinking more than he should to fight off the loneliness of living outside of a dorm for the first time in so long. 

“I’m okay,” you smile and pat the spot beside you on the couch. “Come here.” 

He feels nervous as he sits next to you. His hand wraps around yours and he squeezes gently. A smile crosses your face as you look up at him and say, “This has been a great date.” 

“I agree,” he blushes. “It’s been a while since I went on a date.”

Your eyes move down to his mouth. He sees your tongue dart along your bottom lip and he knows what you want. A pang of panic hits him. He has a fear of you being able to taste the disdainful curses on his tongue. You lean closer, your lips parting with anticipation. At the last moment, he turns his head away so you end up sloppily kissing his cheek. You’re mortified at the mistake, then your heart sinks into your chest when you realize he’d dodged your kiss on purpose. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you swallow hard, trying to clear the lump in your throat. 

He watches your face drop. The look of sadness in your eyes breaks his heart. He holds your hands and tries to think of a way to explain this to you. He doesn’t know how to explain the fear of you being disgusted by the taste of his lips. He kisses your knuckles. 

“I apologize,” he says softly. 

“Do you not want to kiss?” 

He blushes, “I do…But…” 

“You’re scared?” 

It’s a shot in the dark, but your aim is surprisingly good. Geto’s cheeks burn and he looks down at your intertwined hands. 

“I am terrified,” he admits. 

“We don’t have to,” you assure him. 

Your understanding only makes him want to kiss you more. He leans in. His lips are gentle and tentative as they press against yours. His fingers dig into the couch cushion in anticipation of that moment when you pull back to look at him with disgust when you taste the curses on his breath. He gasps in a mixture of shock and relief when instead deepens the kiss. In the split moment of openness offered by his gasp, your tongue slides into his mouth. His hand moves from the couch cushion to cup your cheek, and he moans as he eagerly drinks up your kiss. The sweetness of your mouth provides a temporary relief. He finds himself chasing your lips when you pull away, a shy smile tugging at the curve of your cheeks. 

“Was that scary?” you ask. 

“Not at all,” he groans and kisses you again. 

You tangle your hands in his long black hair. When you reach the roots, you tug gently. He moans against your mouth, shoving his tongue between your teeth to seek out your tongue with his. 

The thought crosses his mind that you must taste this good everywhere. He has to find out. He nuzzles against your neck and his tongue darts across your skin. His large hands eagerly knead at your hips. 

“S-suguru,” you whimper. 

He pulls back, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed hesitant at first.” 

He pulls you closer by your hips, “I know, I’m sorry. I want to continue if you do.” 

You smile, “Yeah, I want to.” 

“Alright,” he blushes. He stands up and offers his hand for you. Then, he leads you to his room. He keeps it quite neat and minimalistic in his space. 

He closes the door before grabbing you again. His hands move over the soft material of your dress before carefully lifting it over your head. He takes a moment to admire your figure standing before him draped only on your bra and panties. His admiration is disrupted by the feeling of you tugging at his shirt. He smirks and lifts his arms. You have to stand on your tiptoes to lift the shirt off completely, then it joins the pile with your dress. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers before seizing your lips again. His hands move over your body in a greedy exploration before finding your bra clasp. He opens it with ease and his fingers are deft to guide the straps down your arms. 

“Am I going too fast?” he asks. 

“No, it’s good,” you kiss him sweetly. 

He carefully lays you down on the bed, his broad form hovering over you. You notice the scars littering his body, but he doesn’t give you much of a chance to look further before he lowers himself to your chest. His breath is warm on your skin, heated up further by the open-mouthed kisses left along the swell of your breasts. He feels your hands in his hair, tugging him towards your sensitive spots. He relinquishes his curious exploration in favor of learning which spots drive you crazy. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers against your stomach. His teeth scrape against your abdomen before he spreads your thighs. Your panties cling to your wet folds. He pulls the flimsy garment off before kissing down your thigh. 

“You don’t have to,” you whisper, suddenly seeming so shy. 

“What?” he looks up at you. He furrows his brows when he realizes what you mean. “I want to, baby.” 

Want is a rather weak word. He needs to taste you. 

“Are you sure?” 

He kisses your mound, “I’m certain.” 

You nod shyly, and he is all too eager to bury his face between your thighs. His tongue laps at your slit, hungry grunts falling from him as he relishes the taste of your arousal. He doesn’t taste curses. He doesn’t taste anything but the musky sweetness of your cunt on his tongue. 

The pleasure rolls through your core in intense waves with every smooth lick and suckle. You tremble in an attempt to keep still as he teases out more and more sensations. His strong hands keep your thighs spread wide so he can fully focus his attention on the feast laid out before him. He stays buried between your thighs until he notices the tell-tale signs of you being close. Your tense thighs and needy whines tell him all he needs to know. He pulls away from your cunt just as you’re about to cum. 

“Fuck, look what you’ve done,” he groans as he sits up on his knees and cups the prominent bulge at the front of his pants. “You still wanna keep going?” 

“Yes,” you whine. 

He pushes his pants down past his ass before slotting himself between your legs. He reaches down to stroke his cock a few times, then drags the tip between your soaked folds. The head prods at your hole, and he begins pushing in carefully. He watches your face contort with pleasure as he fills you. Once he’s bottomed out, he brings himself lower so your chests are pressed together. You can almost feel his heart racing against your chest. 

“You feel so good,” he kisses your forehead and nose. 

His hips begin to rock at a slow, sensual pace. Your nails dig into his back as you lock your legs around his waist, moaning at the pace he’s keeping. Your kisses are sloppy, more tongue than lips. Your moans pass between your mouths like a breath. 

The lingering feeling of your earlier orgasm he’d deprived you off makes the perfect foundation for what’s to come. Already you can feel it, twisting in your core. His cock hits the sweet spot inside you with precision. 

“Suguru, I’m close,” you moan. 

“Good, baby. Cum on my cock.” 

With a few more deep thrusts, you’re crying out his name in unbridled pleasure. The way your walls clench around him as you cum is nearly enough to drive him over the edge. 

“Can I cum inside you, baby?” he asks, his voice husky. Without much thought you nod eagerly. 

He braces one hand against the pillow by your head, squeezing the material as he starts chasing his high. His pace is sloppier and quicker now. He bites his lip so hard it almost draws blood, then at the moment of climax his mouth parts in a silent cry. His cock throbs as he releases inside you. 

As you both come down, he nuzzles against you. You’re both panting to catch your breath. You caress his back until he lifts himself up again. He carefully pulls out of you and lays next to you on the bed. 

“Stay with me,” he murmurs as he gathers you up in his arms. 

[mrsjellymunson]

Imagine coming home after a long day of work or what not and you hear eddie talking to someone, you assume one of eddies friends or his uncle is over so you head in to the living room to greet eddie and who ever just to find eddie with like four maine coon kittens he glances over at you and smiles "look what i found in a box babe we can keep them right? I didn't wanna leave them out in the cold or well in general"

NO you did NOT just invoke The Maine Coon Principle™️?!?! 🙀 (This is one of my bestie’s favourite breeds and she’s had numerous over the years, and I’ve even been lucky enough to look after them at my house on occasion).

“Four, Eddie? You’ve brought four cats into the house? You realise we live in an apartment, right?! Well, they are pretty cute, maybe we can keep one. Ohhh, their fur is so sofffft… Okay, maybe two. What do you mean, we can’t split them up because they’ll pine for each other? I’ll split something in a minute… Stop making that face at me. You know I can’t say no to you when you make that face… Don’t- don’t touch me either. Stop. Stop it! Okay, okay, I submit, I submit! We’ll keep them all, Jeez… You gotta promise to help out with the litter though…”

Eddie calls the white one Falcor, and he spends most of his time lounging on sunny windowsills. Despite what you’d heard about white cats, he’s not deaf. Unless you’re scolding him for something, in which case he most definitely invokes his selective hearing.

The grey and white one is Ozzy. He’s the biggest, and he has a wild expression and demeanour that mirrors his namesake. He does what he likes, when he likes, and couldn’t give a dead mouse about what you think.

The brownish-black one Eddie calls Bear, because, well, he is one. He’s a massive softie (just like Eddie), and will find the most inconvenient and inappropriate times and positions in which to demand affection. On the phone to your boss? His butt is in your face. Trying to cook? He’s pawing at your sleeves from the kitchen counter (what is he doing up there anyway?! Get down Bear, you know you’re not allowed up there!)

And the smallest one, a tabby who’s still in reality much larger than your average domestic cat, is called Pickle, because she’s a cheeky minx and is always getting into scrapes. Once, you thought she’d disappeared because you didn’t see her for days, but it turned out she’d made a home on top of the kitchen cabinets. And that time you had to have the flooring up to fix an electrical fault, she managed to sneak down there and came back with fur absolutely covered in cobwebs and, you suspect, a belly full of spiders.

You keep them as house cats because your apartment’s on the fourth floor and there’s no safe space to let them out. And you wouldn’t want to anyway, because they’ve all grown up to be so pretty that you just know some crazy person would take a liking to them and try to steal them away. (You sometimes feel a little like this when Eddie’s playing The Hideout, but you’d never let a little healthy jealousy stop him from doing what he loves. Plus, you know he only has eyes for you. And the cats...)

You don’t know for sure whether they’re siblings (though it’s highly likely), but you understand enough about cats to know that won’t stop them *ahem* procreating. So you got them all neutered when the local animal shelter had a promotional offer, making it more affordable. They’re happy and healthy, and you feel secure in the knowledge that there aren’t ever going to be any ‘surprises’ under your bed one night when you get home. Frankly, that day Eddie brought the box home was quite enough of a cat-related shock to last you a lifetime, thank you very much. (PSA: NEUTER YOUR CATS!)

They eat you out of house and home, the litter thing is never ending, and the hair issue (that was already bad enough just with Eddie shedding his voluminous locks) makes you want to move out sometimes.

But the look on Eddie’s face when Pickle tries to climb between him and his guitar when she wants cuddles, and when two, some times three of them curl up on top of you both when you snuggle down for a movie night, makes it all worthwhile.

There’s debate about whether this breed are either extremely intelligent, or actually a bit stupid. You think you could say the same about Eddie, and you’re still undecided about either the cats or him. You suspect it’s actually a mixture of both. And you wonder whether that’s one of the (many) reasons why you love him, and your found cat family, so very, very much.

🐱🐈

Tagging my general taglist, even though none of you have ever asked to be notified about any cat-related content 😹😹: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi backtagging @rebelfell

[featherandferns]

daylight - four

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 4 of the daylight series | read part 3 here

content warnings: mentions of sex

word count: 1.6k.

blurb: as JJ drives the two of you back from work, a small slip-up sends you spiralling.

A month into your life in Kildare, you land a job at the Kook Country Club. You’re the summertime photographer. Hired to loiter and snap shots of the guests so they can be posted on their Facebook and used in advertisements. When you told the Pogues (now a firm member of the group), JJ told you that he worked at the same place. Professional busboy, he remarked. He offered to carpool to and from work whenever possible, to save gas and effort. You had hoped your lack of elation didn’t show on your face. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like JJ. The contrary, actually. Despite spending considerable time with all of the Pogues, long enough to build friendships with each one, you and JJ were the closest. Perhaps it followed the first meeting, knitting you closer together. Or it might be the attraction that still lingers under the surface of your friendship. Since that night at the Chateau, neither of you had brought it up since. Not explicitly, at least. But you knew you liked JJ, and you knew he liked you too. Both of you had been caught stealing glances and flirting was hidden under banter and jokes. It dampened the weight of it: softened the truth. But it was getting harder to keep your feelings at bay. So, to say that you would have to face JJ even more at work didn’t exactly perk you up. 

Not that you’d ever say that to him. So, now you hitch rides with JJ to and from work everyday.

You hitch your tote bag up your shoulder as you make your way to the Twinkie. The memory card is full of photos of sun-kissed snobs, grinning in the sunlight, sipping on overpriced mimosas and martinis. What a way to live. JJ is lent against the side of the van, typing something on his phone. At the sound of your footsteps, he looks over. The background is something cinematic: a sky of swirling purple and blue as day turns to night. 

“Yo! Good to go?”

“Yeah,” you say. You climb into the van. JJ starts the journey home. The silence is filled with gossip and shit-talking about your least favourite co-workers. When that dies down, you say, “thanks for bringing me lunch, by the way.”

“Course. Maggie makes the best biscuits. Had to sneak you one.”  

And it’s things like that which drive you insane. He just had to bring you one, because you were hungry, and you forgot lunch, and he wanted you to try something tasty. It’s not fair. It’s confusing. Your infatuation with him makes you want to dive deeper into the hidden meanings; weaving between the lines to find strands that don't even exist.

About halfway home, the dashboard pings. 

“Shit. We’re low on gas.”

He changes course for the nearest gas station, eventually turning into a Seven Eleven. It glows fluorescent in the soulless streets. JJ turns off the engine after pulling up to a pump. He digs about in his pocket and passes you his card. 

“Go pay for me?” he asks. You take his card and it feels strangely intimate, you doing this. “Oh! And you get a free slurpee so make sure that you claim it!”

“Oh my God,” you mumble with a roll of your eyes, climbing out the van.

You head into the gas station and buy him half a gallon of gas and, sure enough, you get a free slurpee. You mix cherry with blue raspberry. When you return to the van, JJ’s placing the pump back into the hold. He looks at you and grins when you present the slurpee. 

“Sweet.”

He grabs it from you like a nine-year-old helping with errands and takes several gulps through the straw as the two of you settle back in the Twinkie. He passes it back as he starts to drive. You can’t take the quiet so turn on the radio. Whatever new Ariana Grande song has just come out begins to play. JJ makes grabby hands. 

“Lemme have another sip.”

“No, I’m still drinking.”

“Come on!”

“Just a minute,” you laugh, taking another drink.

JJ tries to wrestle it from your hold, keeping a steady, white-knuckled grip on the wheel and his eyes on the road. In the sloppy battle, his hand slips from the condensed cup. It somehow finds place on your chest. Your laughter catches in your throat at the weight of his hand on your breast. The moment his brain catches up, he snatches it away. He clears his throat, both hands now on the wheel. 

“Sorry,” JJ eventually croaks. 

You stare wide eyed at the road ahead. Take an almost comic sip of the drink to calm your burning body. One fucking fleeting touch and you’re alit, like he’s the match to your kerosene. Jesus Christ: you didn’t know you were so touch starved. 

The two of you don’t talk for the rest of the ride. He doesn’t try to take the drink back. Doesn’t have another sip. The van has hardly stopped moving when you dart out, heading to your house with a hurried thanks, bye. It feels like you’ve been holding your breath all the way to your bedroom. The second air gets into your lungs, you know what you need to do. 

Mimsy picks up on the second ring. The time zones have aligned nicely and it’s about six in the evening there, and nine at night for yourself. 

“Sup?”

“Oh my God, Mimsy. You’re not going to believe this,” you blurt. 

“Doubtful,” she snorts. 

“JJ just felt me up.”

The line goes so silent you wonder if the service cut out. When your ear drums are nearly blasted, you know that it hasn’t. 

“What!?”

“Well, kind of,” you clarify. 

“He felt you up!? In what way? Where? When? Why?”

“Just now. Like five minutes ago, in the car.”

“Were you hooking up in the car!?” Mimsy screeches. “Ah! You’re iconic!”

“I was not hooking up in the car!” you loudly reply, before remembering that your parents are both probably home. Clearing your throat, you lower your voice. “It really wasn’t that deep, to be honest.”

“Well, walk me through it. Gimme a play-by-play,” Mimsy says. 

“Well, he was giving me a ride home like usual. You remember me telling you that we work at the same club and stuff?”

“Mhm.”

“So we’re driving, driving, driving and the gas light comes on. We pull up at a seven-eleven, all pretty standard, and he gives me his card, right? To go pay?”

“Wait, he gives you his card?”

“Thank you!” you cheer. “That’s kinda boyfriend-ish, right?”

“Kinda, yeah,” she agrees. “Okay, so, you go in to pay.”

“Well, he also wants a free slurpee so I get us one and I head out and we’re sharing it, and start driving back, and then he tries to grab it off me. And this little play fight starts and bla bla bla and then BAM. Hand on tit.”

Mimsy goes quiet for a second time. “And?”

“Well…That’s it…” you mumble. 

Another quiet. “Girl, please tell me you’re joking.”

“No?”

“I’ve had a lamp post feel me up more than that,” Mimsy says. 

“What kind of lamp posts have you been walking past?” you mumble. 

“Not important, babes,” Mimsy replies. “Look, if you’re horny at this man grazing your tit then just jump his bones. Didn’t he say that he was into you, anyway?”

“He did but that was like a month ago.”

“So what? Men are simple creatures, babes. He liked you then, he likes you now. Probably more, actually, now that he’s really got to know you. Really had to pine and yearn.”

“Don’t feed my delusions,” you grumble, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“They’re not delusions when you have cold, hard proof that the guy wants to fuck you.”

“God, I love how you don’t hold back,” you sardonically quip. 

“Look, what is this? Why won’t you just sleep with the guy?” Mimsy asks, her tone more genuine. 

Your eyes flick down to the box under your bed. “I don’t know,” you lie.

“Is this because of Tyler?”

“Mimsy–”

“Because you’ve let that scumbag taint enough of your life,” she tells you pointedly. “And here’s a hot surfer bro who’s totally into you, and you’re punishing yourself for a crime you didn’t even commit!”

“It’s not like that,” you reply. Sitting on your bed, you hang your head. “I just…I think Tyler kind of messed me up. I don’t even know why, or how, but everything romantic now makes me feel sick. Hell, I cry every time I get myself off Mimsy because whenever I come, I just remember that last night with him and how fucking confused I was.”

Mimsy’s voice is low and soft. “Shit, babes. Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Because I was embarrassed,” you mumble. Tears slip past your eyes and you hurry to wipe them away. “I mean, you know that he never assaulted me. Never laid a hand on me without my permission.”

“And? You’re still allowed to be upset,” Mimsy gently says. 

You groan as more tears fall. “God this is so stupid! I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Fuck, I just wish you were still in Vancouver. I’d be over at your house in five minutes and give you a hug,” Mimsy says. 

You give a soggy laugh. “Shit, me too.”

“Look, just take the night, get some rest and really think about this whole JJ thing. If you’re into him and he’s into you, then you two should quick beating around the bush and fuck. In the bush, even.”

“Charming,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But, yeah, I’ll have a think.”

“Okay.”

You wipe your face and smile at the floor. “Thanks, Mimsy. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she returns. “Bye babes.”

“Bye.”

Shutting off your phone, you step out of your uniform and crawl into bed. You spend the hour before drifting off trying to ward off thoughts of JJ and Tyler. It's useless though, because the sleep that you eventually fall into is haunted by them both.

part five coming soon!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank |

[kitnootkat]

Oh? Who's this? ... Hyacinth; Jealousy, sincerity, and forgiveness.

hq masterlist .....

INSPIRED BY OBSESSED BY OLIVIA RODRIGO CHARACTERS: Sakusa Kiyoomi, Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji

MSBY! Sakusa Kiyoomi.  Where were you? Sakusa has been looking around the stadium for quite awhile and for some reason you hadn’t been answering your phone. It wasn’t like you to do so, meaning all Sakusa could do was worry. Though it didn’t take him much longer to find you though, you were outside of the bathroom trying to reject a guy making his advances.

It wasn’t like Sakusa was insecure about your relationship or anything of the sort but for some odd reason, every time he sees someone try to hit on you he feels his chest start to burn. Whether it was with rage or jealousy, he didn’t know, but all he could comprehend was that he didn’t like it. Not at all. 

Walking over to you, he approached you both and snuck an arm around your waist and kissed you. It was a short kiss, but he made sure the guy knew who you were dating. After speaking to you for a moment simply asking if you had gotten lost or something since it was a newly built stadium, he then finally addressed the guy who was hitting on you. 

Smirking at the man's dumbfounded face, Sakusa spoke.

“Oh, who is this babe? A friend of yours?”

College! Tsukishima Kei It was almost a hundred degrees out right now and both you and Tsukishima had agreed to stop by the convenience store to grab ice cream. Usually you would be at Creamsicle, your college’s ice cream shop, but it was probably jam-packed with people and neither of you were in the mood to deal with pushy early adults. 

After grabbing your ice cream you decided to go outside seeing that people were starting to catch onto the idea of cheaper, faster ice cream. You informed Tsukishima of this and he nodded knowing it probably was a good idea to do so. 

Although he thought it was a smart idea, he quickly realized it wasn’t once he saw you conversing with a guy from the soccer team. Sure maybe you both haven’t blasted the fact you were dating out to everyone; but everyone did know that you two were a pair. One with tension that’s finally turned real. 

Walking up to you, Tsukishima ‘accidentally’ bumped into the soccer head. Instead of paying him any mind he went straight for taking a bite of your ice cream. After a moment passes, him kissing you, he turns to the guy you were talking to. 

“The line inside is getting long, you should go before you miss out.”

Akaashi Keiji Akaashi was never one to get jealous, but seeing you converse with your ex? Absolutely not. It didn’t matter if they were your ex from high school, the fact was that they were still your ex. 

You both were at a nice diner, celebrating his promotion at work and the publication of the manga him and his coworker have been working on for months. He felt the urge to use the bathroom while you both were waiting for your food so he informed you and stood up to leave. 

He passed by your ex on his way there thinking nothing of seeing the person but soon came to realize that maybe he should have thought about it a bit more. 

You and them had dated for around a year in high school seeing them as they dropped food of to your table was a pleasant surprise. The breakup was mutual, both of you wanting to pursue different passions, meaning seeing each other was fairly nice. Talking for a moment you have both ended up talking about your love lives, they mentioned that they were married to a lovely lady and would be expecting kids soon. You talked about being deeply in love with your current boyfriend who you were here with. 

But Akaashi didn’t hear that that was the topic of conversation so seeing you talk to casually to your ex had ignited an unpleasant feeling in him. Not usually one for PDA, your boyfriend walked over to your table and kissed you on the forehead before sitting down and sending an icy smile at your ex. 

“It’s nice to meet you, you’re my girlfriend's ex right? Ah! I’d love to talk more but it seems there’s a table waving you over” NOTES !! :

-> This is NOT beta read so there's probably a lot of grammar mistakes sorry !! -> I wanna make more like actual posts other than my smau's so i offer this up!! -> jealousy my favorite guilty pleasure trope <33

[ivrousae]

✧ Comfort Space

Anytime you need a space of comfort after a long day at school, your boyfriend will always be there by your side, no matter the time, place, and situation.

- Genre: fluff, highschool au (kinda)

- Pairings: gyuvin x fem!reader

- Warnings: mentions of food

You walked out the exit gate of your school at exactly 6 PM, a clear exhaustion was shown on your face after being dismissed late from extra classes. Exams are coming up and you don’t want to risk having bad grades so you decide to join extra classes for good results.

As you stepped out the gate, you were greeted by a tall figure approaching you, it was Kim Gyuvin, the boy you fell in love with at school. “Hey, how was it?” he asked while smiling, softly rubbing the back of your head affectionately, “Gyuvin? Why are you still here? You were dismissed 2 hours ago” you laughed “Am I not allowed to wait for my girlfriend?” he replied, using a sulky tone as a joke “That’s not what I meant” you sighed, “Let’s get you home, I bet you’re tired” he pouts, wrapping his arms around your shoulders while walking away.

────────────

You sat down on your couch, letting down a sigh of relief after a long day, Gyuvin then sat down beside you, placing his bag along with yours on the ground. “Go get cleaned up, you stink” Gyuvin laughed, playfully pushing your shoulders “I was just about to! you go shower upstairs, your hoodie is in my room” “Your room? I knew my hoodies went missing” “I only stole one” You laughed, standing up from the couch to go shower.

Gyuvin and you have been in a relationship for a year now, your best friend Gunwook introduced you to him back when highschool just started. As time goes by, you noticed that your heart flutters everytime he smiles at you, your heart flutters everytime he pulls the stupidest jokes that aren’t even funny sometimes, your heart flurtters everytime he stands or sit beside you, basically, your heart flutters at everything he does.

At one point, you tried to get rid of your feelings for Gyuvin, after all, falling in love with someone within the same circle as you seems a bit…scary, especially when he doesn’t see you the way you see him. But what you didn’t know, is that he fell harder, so much harder.

One time, he even ditched classes when he found out you skipped school because you were sick. Every time you needed someone to listen to you, he would always be there to listen, even if he had to miss a hang out with his friends, even if he had to drive for 45 minutes to your location, no matter what, he would always be there for you. And at that time, you two were nothing but friends.

────────────

“Hey come here, I found a movie to watch,” Gyuvin spoke out from the living room when you walked out of the bathroom, tapping on the empty space beside him. “And I also ordered your favorite food” he smiled “Really?” “Yeah, you didn’t even eat lunch at school today” He scolded, looking at you disappointed, “I had a stucon meeting” you replied “and you also had 20 minutes before lunch break ended after your meeting” Gyuvin laughed, gently squishing your face with the palm of his hands. 

You and Gyuvin continued your time by sharing your food, the warmth of the dim light in the living room accompanied by the movie playing on the large screen has somewhat given you and Gyuvin a lot of comfort, being on each other’s side at these moments have always been your favorite, doing the simplest yet warmest things together, from baking together, watching movies together, to even simple things like eating together, those basic things are always the best for the two of you.

Without noticing, you find yourself in the warmth of your boyfriend’s arms. The two of you were cuddled up on the couch, your head placed on his shoulders as one of his arms draped around your shoulders, “Are you sleepy?” Gyuvin spoke out softly while he turned his head to face you “A little” You responded, making Gyuvin stand up from the couch, “Let’s get you to bed then, you had a long day today” he smiled, holding your hands and softly rubbing them.

The night had finally come to an end, and with your two bodies intertwined, you knew that this was exactly where you could find peace, after all, he’s your comfort space.

────────────

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Destiny is all

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: it's almost a tradition now 😊 and it's always so much fun and so easy to work with you – my creative and talented beloved cowriter @little-diable 💖 Thank you for sharing this gorgeous idea and thank you for writing it with me.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, angst

Summary: Reading a new book is always exciting, sparking one's imagination with endless possibilities contained within its pages. But if you had known what unexpected turn of destiny awaited after turning that first page, would you have still dared to open its ancient, weathered cover?

Word Count: 6,3 K

The shop was dimly lit, only a few yellowish lights managed to flood the endless rows of bookshelves, filled with prints one could no longer buy in other bookshops. Your fingertips tingled as you stroked them along the spines of the old books, taken up by a giddy feeling as if the books were whispering to you, telling stories of old times that once were but no longer are. 

“Are you alright, dear?” The elderly shop owner’s voice ripped you out of your daze, having to blink a few times to try and clear your head. You could only nod your head with a soft smile glued to your lips – this was pure heaven for you, a history-loving soul desperate to fill your mind with old stories of people you were researching. 

“Have you already explored the medieval section back there?” It wasn’t your first time in the shop, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but you hadn’t ever explored that section, not finding the time to get properly lost in these tales. 

“I haven’t! Anything you can recommend?” You followed the woman to the section she had pointed towards, unable to stop your gasps as she showed you the leatherbound books that were centuries old. Even though they weren’t in your price range, you couldn’t help but look at them, carefully thumbing through them with awe laced in your gaze. 

“Here, this has always been a favourite of mine. Have you heard of Uhtred of Bamburgh before?” Slowly, you shook your head as you took the small booklet from her hand. It seemed to be a reprint, covering faded-out writings with newer ones. “I think you may find his story fascinating.” 

With a quick look at the handwritten price tag, you tightened your grip on the booklet, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to leave it behind. It felt as if it were whispering to you, calling for you to carefully listen to the secrets it wanted to share with you. And with another stroke along its spine, you let go of a soft, “I’ll take it.”

Your eyes were focused on your living room windows, watching the setting sun with a cup of tea held between your palms. The purchase you made earlier was lying next to you on your couch, begging you to explore it. But something was holding you back, something that forced you to hold still, trying to sort through your confusing thoughts. 

Soft music filled your apartment, cosying you along in old Norse, telling of warriors, battles won, and bloodshed. With a deep exhale clawing through you, almost as if you were preparing for a battle yourself, you placed your cup down, only to reach for the thin booklet. 

“Alright, Uhtred. Who were you?” It didn’t take long for the story to pull you in, managing to fascinate you from the first page on. Somehow, it felt as if you were reading the story of an old friend, somebody you had once known, letting an unfamiliar mix of emotions rise deep inside of you. 

The tale of Uhtred’s life grew darker with every page, telling you about his first family, those set to kill him, turning towards the fire that killed members of his second loving family, and eventually to King Alfred. Something told you that Alfred took up some third father-like figure to the young warrior, another battle Uhtred had been asked to fight – next to the wars he had successfully won. 

Halfway through the book, you had to place it down, unable to focus on another detail of war strategies and analysis of Uhtred’s fighting style. Your eyes wandered back towards the windows as your thumb kept stroking the old paper that had a weird feeling to it. It felt as if the original substance of the book had been mixed with new paper, torn between different centuries.

As your eyes found back towards the page your thumb was stroking, you froze up. You found yourself staring at some kind of scribblings, handwritten words that hadn’t been there minutes ago. Your mind was racing as you deciphered the medieval writing, grateful for all these transcription courses you had taken. 

For years, I have followed Uhtred - the Dane slayer, the Kingmaker, the Heathen, the greatest warrior to ever walk the lands of Wessex, Mercia, and beyond. A man whose deeds are destined to be forgotten, his name erased from the chronicles, banished from the memories of those he bled for. For it shall not be recorded that the greatness of Alfred was built upon Uhtred's broad shoulders. But I bear witness to this truth.

It is my sacred honour and burdensome duty to transcribe the tale of unswerving loyalty and sage counsel, of unflinching bravery and brazen defiance, but most of all, the tale of a friendship forged in the unrelenting storms of suffering and pain, as equally as by shared joy and laughter. A bond that carried us through life's journey cradled in its calloused yet gentle hands.

In this year of our Lord's blessed incarnation 896, being the 25th year of the reign of Alfred, King of the West Saxons, I, Osferth, set quill to parchment to weave our tale...

You rubbed your eyes in awe, transfixed by the words that seemed to float untethered before you. With a reverent breath, you plunged back into reading, devouring page after page that unveiled a rich tapestry of events - battles clashing like tides, alliances forged in desperation only to be treacherously abandoned, kings risen and just as abruptly dethroned, sacred oaths sworn solemnly yet shattered without remorse.

And as your fingers trailed along the final lines of each turned page, you felt the aged, yellowed vellum shudder beneath your questioning gaze and as if sensing your yearning for more the book yielded to your unspoken plea. The uneven scratchings of the young monk's hand shimmered into view, revealing a remarkable story, a tale more astonishing than the chronicles of England's bloody birth.

It was not the tale about the glory of battles or the intricate ways the powerful played with the people's fates that enraptured and didn’t let go, but the tale of an extraordinary friendship moulded between the most unlikely of companions. A lord severed from his birthright, an Irish prince bearing the burdens of his brother's cruelty, a bastard Dane haunted by the atrocities of his kin, and a fallen monk walking the perilous line between his vows to God and the warrior’s path.

You couldn't deny that the more you read, the more your attention was drawn to the young Dane’s tale, as you followed his journey from an endearingly insecure but headstrong youth ready to fight for his place at Uhtred's side, to a hardened and cunning warrior - Uhtred's trusted companion and artful spy.

"Sihtric, the Dane boy looks like a rat," you murmured under your breath. "Mismatched eyes, one dark and one pale. Unruly curls the very shade of a raven's wing. The strongest and most formidable arms in all the shires, and beneath that muscled, battle-hardened shell… a heart yearning for love's tender embrace,” you smiled, recalling bits and pieces of Osferth’s descriptions.

"I wonder what you truly looked like, Sihtric? What kind of a man were you in the flesh?" You whispered softly, trying to conjure every nuanced detail committed to parchment by the young monk's quill. 

You closed your eyes, trying to picture the fierce Danish warrior in your mind's eye, as you imagined a powerful, muscular man with a furrowed brow and striking, contrasting eyes that seemed to miss nothing. 

"Lady? Lady, are you alright?" An unknown voice suddenly shattered your reverie. You startled, eyes fluttering wide open as your heart pounded with fear. The scream that ripped through you was shrill, a sound so unexpected the man instantly took a step away. 

With your body trembling, you sat up, letting your eyes take in the unfamiliar surroundings. You were surrounded by trees while sitting on the mossy ground. Had the man kidnapped you from your apartment? Had he dragged you out here to do god knows what?

“Where am I? Who are you?” Panic dripped from your voice as you spoke. You allowed yourself to take him in, the mismatched eyes, the dark curls, even the necklace he wore, shaped in some kind of a “T”. 

“Are you sick, lady?” The man crouched down in front of you as his concerned eyes took in your features, seemingly trying to find wounds, scratches or something else. You could only shake your head, slowly realising that he was carrying a weapon, though no gun like you had expected, but a sword. 

“I won’t ask again, who are you? And why aren’t I at home, in my apartment?” Confusion tugged on his features, he seemingly was just as lost as you were. This felt like a nightmare, some dream you were now stuck in and couldn’t escape. 

“My name is Sihtric, lady. I’m afraid I don’t know where your home is nor where apartment lies. We are in Mercia.” He studied you for another moment before he reached his hand out for you to take. “Here, let me help you up.”

Slowly, you gave in, letting him pull you to your feet, and instantly taking a step away from him. Your surroundings were spinning as your mind kept racing. This must be some dream, something that the story had pushed through you as it couldn’t be a coincidence that you were now standing in front of the very Sihtric you had read about. 

“So if you are Sihtric, are you travelling with Osferth? With Uhtred? Even with Finan?” Sarcasm dripped from your words, followed by the hysterical chuckles you couldn’t swallow. Whatever this was, it felt all too surreal, something your mind could barely grasp. 

Just as Sihtric parted his lips to reply, his name was called by a man who appeared with his sword raised and his hard gaze set on your features. You gave yourself a moment to study him, the short brown hair, the muscular arms exposed by the armour he wore, somewhat matching Sihtric’s. 

“Is she sick?” His Irish accent instantly told you that this must be Finan, but his question distracted you from any other detail you could pick up on. Sick? You didn’t know much about sicknesses in earlier periods, but you knew enough to understand that sicknesses were much deadlier in the past than they were for you with modern medicine. 

“I don’t think so.” Sihtric shot you a soft smile before he turned towards Finan, “She’s no threat, lower your sword.”

But Finan didn’t move, he kept staring you down, taking your clothes that were all too different to theirs, forcing you to stand out even further. Without moving too much, you tried to pinch yourself to wake from this strange dream, but no matter how hard you tugged on your arm, nothing changed, you were still standing on the same spot, close to the two men.

“The sickness will kill us all! Leave her here, I don’t trust strangers to tell the truth.” Finan turned from you as if he expected Sihtric to blindly follow the command. But Sihtric didn’t follow him, at least not before softly taking your hand to pull you with him. 

“Come, let’s find Uhtred, he will want to meet you, lady.” 

Still certain that this was just a vivid dream, you allowed yourself to be led by the firm grip of Sihtric's calloused palm against yours, wondering what other fantastical tricks your obviously overactive mind had prepared.

"Who is this?" Uhtred's voice rumbled deeply with a distinct accent. You recognized him instantly because of the iconic sword slung across his back - The Serpent's Breath - its hilt adorned with an amber stone, just as described in Osferth's records.

"I found her sleeping in the woods, Lord," Sihtric replied, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "The lady seems quite lost." He leaned in closer to Uhtred, lowering his voice though you could still hear, "She speaks of strange things and appears to know who we are."

You laughed lightly. "Of course I know who you are. I've read all about you." This earned you a strange nod and sympathetic shrug from Sihtric, as if he thought you addled. In truth you  were already starting to question your own sanity as your knees began to wobble and you slumped down onto a nearby giant tree root.

As much as you wished to wake from this strange dream, you remained unable to. So you just sat there, witnessing the hushed discussion between the medieval warriors, catching their furtive, suspicious glances cast your way.

You could make out a few words - Finan suggesting they leave you behind, afraid your evident madness was a sign of sickness. But Sihtric argued against abandoning a confused lady alone in the wilderness. You weren't sure which option you preferred, as both seemed equally perilous - travelling with these savage strangers to an unknown destination, or being left alone in the vast forest.

"The lady comes with us," Uhtred's verdict reached your ears. "We can't leave her and risk our pursuers discovering which way we've gone."

"But Lord..." Finan tried to interject, only to be silenced by Uhtred's stern gaze as another woman appeared from the trees, accompanied by three children and two young monks.

"We've refilled the flasks from the stream," she said, eyes widening at the sight of you.

"We have company," Uhtred explained, turning towards you. "Lady, are you good with children?"

“Children? No, I'm not," you exclaimed, remembering the last time you visited your sister when your five-year-old nephew managed to slip a farting pillow beneath you as you were seated at the dinner table with guests over. You had no idea until you shifted in your seat, causing the pillow to loudly blast a sound that made you freeze. Your face flushed beet red as the other guests tried to stifle their laughter while that small devil in disguise found it hysterical, rolling on the floor in a fit of giggles. 

"Well, we aren't either," Uhtred shrugged, and the decision was apparently settled.

The wild run through the woods, with only the vast sky as the roof overhead and fallen leaves serving as a bed, had been exhausting. Yet, you found yourself astonished by the unexpected company you were forced to travel with. Everything you had read about these men, now serving as both your guards and protectors, seemed to ring true. 

A wry laugh escaped your lips as you caught yourself thinking that after centuries of hard-fought battles for women's emancipation and equal rights, it took an extraordinary twist of fate to transport you into the midst of the Middle Ages, to finally encounter men who regarded you not as an object to be possessed or used.

"Lady, tell me more about your home. Where do you hail from?" Sihtric settled beside you, handing you the flask filled with water.

While Finan maintained a wary distance, likely still unconvinced of the absence of any impending danger that you might be carrying the sickness within you, Sihtric was the polar opposite. The young and handsome Dane, with his striking half-shaved hairstyle that allowed dark locks to curl freely on one side, seemed genuinely drawn to you. More importantly, he appeared to believe you when you attempted to explain that you were not from here, not even from a distant land or kingdom.

Even if the concept of time travel was something he was unable to grasp, for which you couldn’t blame him, Sihtric's curiosity remained piqued, and he was eager to learn more about the strange place you called home. 

"Please, tell us about those weird carriages that drive alone without being pulled by a horse," Aethelstan pleaded, seating himself on the ground before you. You smiled, amused by the fact that boys remained boys across centuries. However, before you could begin your tale, you felt the small and fragile frame of Aelfwynn carefully cuddling against your side, her thin and icy hands wrapping around your waist as if seeking solace in the warmth of your body.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, and for a brief moment, you savoured the serenity and strange calmness that enveloped you. Unnoticed, against every expectation, these children had enchanted you from the very first day of your unexpected journey.

Aethelstan, a solemn young boy far too serious for his age, gazed at you with wide, inquisitive eyes carrying a deep sadness. When you had simply asked his name, his response astounded you - "I'm no one," he uttered, as if it were something normal, even self-evident.

His quiet sobs woke you in the night. Though asleep, tears covered his cheeks as his small body shook, a soft cry slipping out, "Mummy, where are you? Don't leave me alone." You moved closer, fingers soothingly running through his hair. Suddenly, his little arms wrapped around you. With his nose buried in your chest, a shy smile graced his lips as he calmed, his breathing turning smooth and even. Not knowing what else to do, you just held him a little tighter, watching his small, thin face lighten in the dim light of the fading moon, his eyes tightly shut, wishing you could do something to shield him from this harsh world.

But it was Aelfwynn who worried you even more. She was a lovely, timid child, so beautiful and yet so fragile. It was evident the arduous journey on foot through the woods, meadows, hills and valleys was taking its toll on her. She grew paler with each passing day, her hands like ice, yet every time she pressed herself against you, you could feel her body burning. 

"We need to rest more. The children can't keep up this pace," you said worriedly to Sihtric after finishing your fanciful story about cars. Both Aethelstan and Aelfwynn had listened with mouths agape, as if you had spun the most fantastical fairy tale.

Sihtric's gaze lingered on you perhaps a moment too long, his eyes radiating warmth, before turning away. "You speak truly," he finally replied, "but we dare not linger. We are being pursued. Every mile we put between us and our pursuers could mean the difference between life and death. One of your marvellous self-driving carriages would be quite useful now." He gave you a small smile before rising and heading to Uhtred.

You were relieved to see Sihtric had indeed conveyed your concerns, as the following days were considerably less strenuous, with more pauses for rest. Still, Aelfwynn's condition worsened until her waning strength required her to be carried from time to time. It was often Sihtric who first noticed the pain contorting the small girl's face, offering his broad back without prompting, and you found yourself musing at how accurately Osferth's descriptions had painted his strong, but caring and observant friend.

The tender attentiveness Sihtric showed towards everybody contrasted sharply with his imposing warrior's build hinting that there were evident depths to this man beyond his formidable exterior.

Your hand squeezed Aelfwynn's small palm tighter as you dragged her along, feeling her stumble and whine painfully as she tumbled to the ground. You pulled her back to her feet, running for your lives as the thundering hooves of pursuers closed in. Fear propelled you forward, even as your strength waned with each stumbling step of the frantic flight.

Aelfwynn stumbled again, and suddenly strong arms scooped her up.

"Run, lady! Don't stop!" Sihtric's voice urged. You didn't need telling twice, feet pounding the earth until the frenzied hunt came to an abrupt halt at the river's edge. Blood rushed deafening in your ears as your eyes frantically jumped from armed man to armed man surrounding your small company, bows drawn taut. A feeling of doom crept in.

You felt two pairs of small, trembling arms wrap around your waist from each side. Placing your hands on their shoulders, you carefully shoved both Aethelstan and Aelfwynn behind you, taking a resolute step forward ready to shield them with your own body if necessary as Uhtred and the others lined up before you.

"Lady, take it," Sihtric said, extending his arm with a hunting knife behind his back. You reached out, trembling fingers wrapping around the hilt, but he didn't relinquish his grip, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Use with care, I'll want it back." His mismatched eyes bored into yours as he let go, the weight of the dagger settling into your palm along with the calming effect of his words.

With no other hope, you clung to those simple words like a lifeline in a storming sea, pooling all your strength and courage into your balled fist clutching the unfamiliar weapon, while you watched the bizarre scene unfold before you, hope rising from nowhere as Eadith confronted her brother, accusing him of murdering his lord.

"Lady, you are full of surprises," Sihtric's warm voice cut through the haze as you felt his rough fingers gently brush yours, wrapping around your hand and helping you finally loosen your white-knuckled grip on the dagger. "It's over, we are safe for now."

He carefully took the knife, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "And you told us you are not good with children," the warrior smiled, his gaze hovering over Aethelstan and Aelfwynn still clinging to you.

"Are you sure this will help?" The uncertainty in Sihtric's voice mirrored the doubt clearly visible in everyone's eyes.

"The only thing I'm sure of is that if we do nothing, she may not survive until morning," you pleaded, your gaze moving from Sihtric to Eadith and the others. "We have to lower her fever."

"Lord, if this is the sickness, only God can help her...and us," Finan voiced the fear they all silently harboured.

"I don't care," you whispered, tears shining in the corners of your eyes. "Just bring me linens soaked in cool stream water and find the herbs. I'm staying with her, and I'll do the rest. I'm not afraid." You turned to go to the room where Aelfwynn had been placed.

For you, there was no reason to believe she had contracted the dreaded sickness, but there was little you could explain about infectious diseases to your companions. You understood their fear, but you were by no means ready to give up and leave the child's life to fate. Perhaps this was the reason you had been brought here - to use your modern knowledge to save the life so miraculously entrusted to you. 

The village you had finally reached was nearly abandoned, fear of the sickness driving away all but some elderly inhabitants too feeble to travel or too stubborn to be driven from their lifelong homes. The ancient grandmother who had offered you all shelter in her humble dwelling seemed bent by age, her face and arms weathered by wrinkles, yet her eyes remained kind and warm.

"Don't just stand there gawking. You heard the lady - willow bark, elderflower, linden, and meadowsweet. Go!" the old woman commanded, bony finger pointing at Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric. "Don't fret, child, I'll help you. I'm too old to fear the final caller."

It was Eadith who first snapped out of the solemn, lingering silence. "Osferth - you're coming with me to the stream to fetch cool water," she ordered, and as if by a magic wand, everyone sprang into action.

"I will prepare the different herbal teas as you instructed and bring everything to you. We cannot let her die. She is the future of this kingdom," Eadith said, turning to you and placing a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You nodded gratefully for the unexpected support.

Aelfwynn looked so small and pale, her forehead beaded with sweat, breathing shallow and rapid as you sat by her bedside, holding her thin, burning hand in yours. You raised your head at the creak of the opening door, surprised to see it wasn't only Eadith and the wrinkled landlady entering.

They were followed by the broad-shouldered frame of Sihtric, carrying buckets of cool spring water. He placed them on the bench near the window and turned to you. "Lady, please tell me what else I can do."

"Aren't you afraid of the sickness?" you asked in astonishment.

"I am, it's an invisible enemy that can't be defeated with weapons. But you are here, and you are not afraid, neither is Eadith. I've always known there is an invisible strength in women - a strength to endure, to persist where the toughest men crumble. My own mother had that fortitude." His voice faded on the last words, a veil of sadness spreading over his handsome features.

"I cannot simply stand by watching. Not again..." Sihtric didn't finish the thought, but his haunted expression spoke more than any words could.

You watched him in a new light as he rolled up his sleeves, resolved to offer whatever assistance he could, your regard of him only growing. The young warrior seemed as acquainted with grief as with battle and was willing to place his faith in the quiet courage you and Eadith displayed against an enemy he knew he had no chance of standing against.

Later that night, reassured by Aelfwynn's steady breathing and her hands cooling from the fever's grip, exhaustion finally overwhelmed you and your eyes started drifting shut. It was then that Sihtric's strong yet remarkably gentle arms wrapped around your shoulders and under your knees, cradling you against his chest as he carried you carefully to the other bed in the room before resuming his vigil by the window, watching over your slumbers. 

And as you slowly slipped into restful dreams, you felt an unexpected sense of security and warmth enfolding you. Whatever forces had brought you to this time and place, you were grateful for the chance that was given to you. 

Even though you still struggled to accept that this seemed to be your life now, you found joy in being surrounded by these people who slowly turned into being your friends. By now you were in Aegelsbury, and for the first time since crossing paths with the group, you found yourself being on your own, away from Uhtred who was focused on his duties on becoming ruler of Mercia, even away from Finan and Osferth, who seemed to enjoy their time hiding in alehouses with pretty women. 

You had missed being on your own, giving you a chance to sort through confusing thoughts, fears, and the anticipation you couldn’t shake. This life was anything but easy, and yet it felt like you were finally part of something you had always missed, with these wonderful people and a certain man with dark locks and beautiful eyes you searched at any given chance. 

Being close to Sihtric felt like fate had always planned for you to come together, held apart by too many centuries between you–until you had found your way into this very year. Your heart longed for the strong warrior whenever you were away from him, just the mere thought of him made your heart race in your chest as if he was touching you once again. 

“Lady?” It felt as if he heard your thoughts, lured closer to check up on you as you hid away in the rented room. With a silent curse leaving you, you cleared your throat before calling a small “Yes?”. 

Your eyes were instantly drawn to his mismatched ones, getting lost in their rich colour, the secrets they carried, and the longing you couldn’t help but feel too. Sihtric stepped into the room all too carefully as if he was giving you the chance to make him leave before the door could fall shut behind him.

“I,” he had to avert his gaze as he fumbled with his fingers. “I wanted to see if you were alright, I haven’t seen you since yesterday morning.” 

A rosy tint brushed his cheeks, a sight so lovingly, you couldn’t help but reach your hand out for Sihtric to take. You pulled him closer while trying not to focus on the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, the way his calloused fingertips brushed over your skin, and the heat that began to simmer inside of you. Sihtric was the sweetest temptation, a man the girls at home would all fall for within seconds. 

“I’m good, thank you, Sihtric. I think I am just tired after the past few days.” The soft smile he shot you left you chuckling, unable to bite down your adoration for the tall man. Your hands stayed connected as silence engulfed you two, stroking along your bodies like a snake slithering to Eden, finding shelter in the warmth only your hearts seemed to offer. 

“I didn’t want to disturb your peace, perhaps I should leave you be. But,” the rest of his sentence was left hanging in the air. You could tell that he struggled to put whatever he was feeling into words, coming off as a shy young boy rather than a gruesome warrior who knew no holding back on a battlefield. 

“But what, Sihtric?” He let go of your hand to interlace his fingers in his lap, it seemed as if he was holding himself back from whatever he was close to doing–and if you were certain of one thing only, it was that you didn’t want him to hold back, you wanted him close, as close as possible. 

“I can’t stay away from you, lady. I don’t know what spell you casted over me, but I seem to miss your closeness whenever you leave my side.” Slowly, you reached for his chin to tilt his head back towards you. Without speaking a single word, you traced his soft lips with your thumb, hoping that he began to understand that you felt the same draw towards him. 

You held eye contact while shuffling closer, perhaps you were simply offering him a way out, a way to escape should he want to stay away, but Sihtric was fully entranced by you. And without speaking another word, he closed the distance between you to press his lips against yours. 

The kiss was everything you had been dreaming of, soft enough to test the waters, to adjust to what you were now feeling, and yet it was urgent enough to tell you he wanted more. Without breaking the kiss, Sihtric pressed you down on the mattress, he hovered over you as he got comfortable between your thighs. 

His calloused fingertips stroked your skin as one hand found its way beneath the dress they had bought for you to make you blend in more. Your hands played with his hair, to tug on the strands as he found your naked cunt. The buzz that shot through you had you moaning, letting the sounds vibrate on your tongues as the kiss grew even more demanding. 

“Sihtric,” you panted his name and for a second he parted from you. Both were clearly ready to give in, to fuck like you were destined to be, and yet you couldn’t help but feel excited and somewhat nervous about giving yourself to Sihtric. A man who was born over a thousand years before you. 

You held eye contact as he rose to his feet to shuffle out of his armour, letting it carefully rest on the small wooden table. Heat shot through you at every glimpse he offered of his skin, the body you wanted to feel pressed against yours. His cock was painfully hard, begging to be buried inside you like the both of you had dreamt of for the past nights, something you were set on finally turning real.

“Come here.” You barely recognised your own voice, it was huskier, rougher than before. Sihtric found his way back to you on the mattress, and with another kiss shared between you he pulled you into a sitting position to help you out of your dress. The second he had you naked, Sihtric kissed his way to your chest, to suck on the hardening numbs while his cock brushed through your slit, collecting drops of your arousal to coat himself.

“Will you let me fuck you, lady? Let me make you scream my name so they all hear who’s fucking you.” The teasing words left you gasping for air. You could only let go of a desperate plea, needing to feel him stretching your walls as if you had been born for this moment only. 

Without another warning, Sihtric pushed into you. He moved slowly, carefully almost as if he was just as nervous, unsure what to expect. But the second he was buried inside of you, you couldn’t help but claw at his skin, begging him for more. Sihtric began to build a rough pace, letting his body meet yours with every thrust to draw the loudest moans from you, letting them reverberate through the room.

“You feel so good, oh fuck, don’t stop, Sihtric.” You paid your words no attention as they left you, you were already too far gone as he fucked you closer and closer to the edge. Never again would you be able to leave his side again, no matter what may happen, your heart had found shelter inside his, clinging to him like two halves belonging together.

“I won’t, lady, you’re mine, forever mine.” His words made your walls flutter around him, a sensation that only grew stronger as his calloused fingertips began to circle your pulsing bundle. The moans that left you two grew lower, nothing but raspy sounds that mixed together while Sihtric pressed his forehead against yours. 

The moment had something so awfully intimate to it, you feared you would never experience this again with him, as if it was a one time thing that can’t be redone. But the emotions swimming in his mismatched pupils told you that this wasn’t just for one night only, this was a bond that would hold for as long as you lived, forever chained to his side. 

“I’m so close, fuck, let me cum.” Sihtric only laughed at your words, a challenge he seemed to easily give in to. His thrusts grew more ferocious, faster than the ones that had you seeing stars. Now you were engulfed by darkness, a darkness so rich, you couldn’t help but give into the sweetest sensation.

Your orgasm clashed through you without giving you a chance to stop it, it filled every pore, every vein of your trembling body. Sihtric kept moving, he kept snapping his hips against yours until he let go with a deep moan. He imprinted himself on your walls, leaving his stain on your body and soul before slowly pulling out of you.

A playful breeze danced through the open window, its gentle caress rousing you from slumber's embrace. Sihtric's deep, even breaths formed a soothing rhythm, his chest rising and falling in a slow flow - the only sound to pierce the night's tranquil silence. And yet, a peculiar sensation lingered, as if you had heard your name whispered amidst the stillness.

Carefully, you shifted, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed to plant your feet on the cool floor. Reaching down, you retrieved your simple undergarment, carelessly discarded, and pulled it over your head. There it was again - a faint sound, so feeble that you questioned whether it was truly perceived or merely an echo reverberating from the dreamscape you had inhabited moments ago. Pictures of your former life in the hectic modern world with your friends, studies, and future plans, had danced vividly behind your closed lids.

You could not ignore the strange, insistent tugging sensation, as though your limbs moved on their own, carrying you towards the door and down the dimly lit corridor to Osferth's quarters. A soft, flickering glow seeped from beneath his door, beckoning you onward, and you carefully pushed the door as if knowing that it would yield and open.

The room was empty, Osferth likely too wasted to find it after another drinking contest with Finan. Your eyes scanned the sparse furnishings, finally landing on the table by the window where you saw it. The very same old book, the feeling of its leather cover against your fingertips still vivid in your memory, emanating an otherworldly, soft radiance, its pages turning lazily in the gentle breeze.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you beheld the waning images dancing across the illuminated pages - scenes of you savouring ice cream in your favourite coffee shop, dancing with friends in the disco you adored for its fortnightly DJ sets, hurrying through the sterile corridors of a hospital in your pristine white coat, stethoscope slung around your neck, your dream profession as a doctor finally within grasp after years of arduous study.

The whispered beckoning of the pages caressed your ears. This was it – your chance to return home, to leave this harsh, unforgiving world behind. You stretched out your hand, trembling slightly, fully aware of what would happen the moment your fingertips grazed those magical leaves.

The warmth of Sihtric's body enveloped you as he stirred from slumber, his muscular arms instinctively wrapping around your form and pulling you closer. A contented sigh escaped your lips as a gentle sense of happiness bloomed within your chest.

"You're chilled," he murmured huskily, his breath a delicious caress against the sensitive skin of your neck. With tender care, he adjusted the thick woollen blanket, meticulously tucking it snugly around your shivering frame.

“I can’t believe it took until I travelled back in time for me to feel like this.” Your whispers filled the room–words that piqued Sihtric’s attention as he pulled you against his chest. 

“What do you mean?” A kiss was pressed to your forehead, a gesture so sweet, you couldn’t help but smile up at him.

“I feel more loved and appreciated than ever before.” And with a slow kiss shared between your swollen lips, you knew that this had always been your destiny. You had been made for this man, as much as he had been crafted for you. Destiny is all.

Comment or write to me if you want to be added to the tag list.

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama

@verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @littlebitofwillow @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07

@mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw @siimonesvensson @sigtryggrswifey @ladyinred2248

@thatawkwardlittlefangirl @canyonmoon-2 @legitalicat @stupiddarkkside @sylasthegrim

[hhighkey]

Taken // Uvogin, one shot

Rating: mature Story Contains: Stockholm syndrome, implied past kidnapping, reader kidnapped by stalker!hunter, attempted force marriage, attempted sa, violence, injuries, murder, I mean phantom troupe, time skips and flashbacks, unprotected sex, uvo is a manhandler, size kink, emotional reunions, nobu may be ooc, female reader Note: this mayyy be 14k words, edited for grammar, ao3 link: xxx

It was a night like any other whilst Uvogin was away on Troupe business. You were left to your own devices as your body slowly healed. Sensitive lungs and throat from all the coughing, chest weak with each breath- even going from one room to the next pushed your limits. But you still insisted that Uvogin needed to begin partaking in Troupe business again, that you'd still be alive when he'd return. No need for his excessive worrying. 

Your fingers graced gingerly along the dimly lit screen on your lap. Curled up on your bed with a multitude of plush blankets atop, stuffed animals at your side, a glass of water on the side table. This was contentment. Peace and quiet, not that you didn't miss Uvogin's loudness as he stomped around the apartment. It feels empty when he's gone and normally you'd count down the hours till his return, but this was your first night without him in months. Your overly clingy brute of a boyfriend, once former captor, that owned your body and soul. The man you gave your love to. 

The sound of an unlocking door was amiss to you. You were lost in your own world of the words on the screen that you don't hear the creaking floor boards as a multitude of footsteps creep about. Hushed whispers as weapons were drawn, all before the door to your room burst open. 

"Wha-" You shriek at the men storming into the room, tumbling out of bed as your head hit the wall. 

Backing into the corner, a man with curly blonde hair strides from the sea of darkly cloaked men. 

"W-Who are you?" You were shaking, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Practically able to feel your heart hammering out your chest, "Please don't hurt me," 

"We won't hurt you. We're with the Hunter Association, you know what that is correct?" The man began to approach you like you were a scared animal cornered in the wild. 

You nod hesitantly, but a twisted sense of safety comes over you until you remember that Uvogin and the others were criminals. 

"I understand you've been held here by a member of the Phantom Troupe?"

"I live here with my boyfriend." 

"How sad." The man stepped closer so much you could feel his breath- he grasped your wrist like you were nothing but a rag doll. Dragging you from the corner, making you stumble over your feet to the floor. Crying out in pain your knees burned from the contact, palms skidding as you were dragged right back up. 

"Leave me! I want to stay!" You pleaded. 

His eyes darkened, as he manhandled you, hand firm on your jaw forcing you to look at him. Yet his grasp was harsh and unflinching, a coldness shivered through you as your gazes connected, "I'm here to rescue you from that beast."

"I don't need to be rescued," You said meekly, a single tear running down your cheek.

Your body hurts. Lungs taut as if each breath was like intaking sandpaper against the meek organs you once needed medicine to keep alive. 

Looking around you let out a heavy sigh. Forced to settle into yet another room they've tossed you in, like a show pony for a revolving door of visitors. Poking and prodding at you. Talking down at you like you're a child— reprimanding each time you insist you love Uvogin, as if you couldn't possibly have genuine feelings. They'd get frustrated, throw things as you beg to be returned to the apartment you once resided. It confused you— why the head Hunter, Bates, who'd carried you out of your home cares so much, you've never met him! 

How long has it been? Maybe a month you assumed from the glimpses of changed calendars you caught sight of. But your senses were dulled at this point, from constant moving and drugs forced into your system to keep you pliant. They keep you confused about your location as they thrust you from each hiding spot to keep going forward. 

But you were fully awake now though, on alert with the knots in your stomach wound tightly. Staring at the same cream walls with crude art for the last two days, the books at your table side ones you have no interest in. You're thankful to have a window in what you imagine is a small fortress of a house. The air is too cold for you, for months Machi insisted you needed warmth and no fresh air, your lungs couldn't handle it. So you think you're relapsing somewhat as you feel your stomach grumbling. 

Food comes at the same hours of the day. A random Hunter sets it down with an emphatic smile and locks you in the room once more. But this time, lunch isn't dropped off for you to be left to your own devices. Because someone else is walking through the door frame that leaves you with a bad feeling in your gut screaming at you to run. 

It's him. Your throat went dry, a lump forming as you attempted to speak, to argue for him to leave. The sound of the door slamming behind as he walks over with a plate in hand, makes you flinch. 

"Morning," Bates smiled, an empty grin that sent a chill down your spine. You hadn't seen him since he'd taken you from Uvogin, though as his eyes bore into you, you know they've been on you. 

You only nod, shuffling further back on your bed until you've grabbed the blankets to your front like a shield. You're up against the wall at the head of your bed, sitting upon plush pillows with dilated pupils carefully watching him approach. 

He's too close for your liking. And every inch of you freezes as Bates reaches out to rub his thumb along your cheek, and when you shy away, he frowns, "why do you fear me? Fight us trying to help you?"

"I didn't need help," you murmur, voice gravelly from the lack of using it. 

"It's sad, really." Bates sets down the plate of food on your side table, then pulls a chair over from the small table in the corner. It dragged, loud and destitute to your ears as you scowled, "why'd you have to give in?You can't really love him can you?"

"I do." You want to put up more of a fight but your hoarse voice and dimmed eyes do you nothing. Your response reeks of pity. 

"All the therapists from the Hunter's Association I've brought in for you- why don't they help? Why do they keep telling me they think your feelings are real? It's only Stockholm syndrome, you know."

"You don't know anything." you snap. 

"I don't?" he responds condescendingly. 

And he doesn't. 

Your mind goes rampant with memories you've shared with Uvogin, the only thing keeping you sane. Just daydreaming about how he cares for you with that shit eating grin, how you watch ridiculous reality tv together after a cooking fail. How since falling ill he never left your side- staying up with you through bloodied coughing fits, rubbing your back as you finally drift off to sleep. You miss his calloused, large, thick fingers prodding at your soft skin. You miss his gargantuan body compared to yours and how he envelopes your entirety. And you all but shudder thinking how you miss his giant cock filling you whole, turning you into nothing but a babbling, overstimulated mess. Now you're left falling asleep to his phantom touches praying you'd dream of him— that you'd awake to him saving you. 

"If he can take you and have you fall for him, then the same can happen for me. For us."

Your eyes widen, as dread whooshes through your body, "What are you talking about?" you sniffle, knuckles turning white from your involuntarily tightening grip on the blanket. 

"I'm going to marry you." 

"You don't know me.." 

Bates lets out a heavy sigh as he begins a monologue that seems to make matters even more real for you, "me and my men, we're not stupid. Five years ago we were formed to take down the Phantom Troupe, spending our lives training to amount to their skill. But to run in blind? Never. Three years now, we've followed them, learning all we can without them finding out. Shouldn't that show you why they haven't found us yet? We've outsmarted them, and you'll never see the monster that took you. That I can protect you."

"What.." 

"I had just started working as a Hunter with our group, on my second month tailing Uvogin when he took you. I was surprised that I hadn't known about you in my time watching. I felt as if I failed you, we should have been able to be more proactive to keep you from him. You're beautiful Y/N, so small and ethereal, kind and loving, and too good for that beast. He took you from all you know and love, I'll gladly bring you home to your family as your husband and make sure you keep the freedoms you once lost."

His words shake your core. "Y-you're insane." is all you manage to mutter out, "you've stripped me of my freedoms when you took me."

"This is all to keep you safe. Just give it more time, yeah?"

"No.."

"But isn't this what he did with you? Locked you away and now you gladly spread your legs for him?" Bates spat bitterly. 

"No, it's different." Maybe it wasn't. And that makes your chest tighten even more as you recount your first few days, to weeks to months with Uvogin. How scared you'd been while he was nothing but accommodating, gentle— patient. How he'd buy everything you loved from ice cream to books, desperately trying to gain your attention. But you enjoyed his humor, his roughness that made you find comfort in him. You're one who doesn't need human contact, you had no issue spending months in a room with no one but your books. And you did that for a while. Until, you found yourself enjoying his company. Uvogin's stupid commentary on movies or intrigue about your books, begging you to read to him. He gave you your space, let you do all your own cooking and tasks. Even let you out once in a while as long as you stayed by his side. Uvogin was different from the others with those they'd taken- he let you keep yourself- you. You remind yourself you love him, that it's genuine, especially based on the multitude of reactions from recent professionals coming by. Nothing had ever been forced between you and Uvogin after he'd taken you, which you battered him for occasionally, that he could have whisked you away in a more natural sense of things—

"It's not!" His anger from your sudden silence makes you jump. You hadn't realized minutes had gone by that he watched your frozen face with eyes seemingly miles away. "You're thinking about him."

"Let me go. Why risk all your lives for me? You know what's going to happen." You wanted to put on a brave face, trying to reason with him that the reality of this was bad. 

"Because I love you." 

Your mouth suddenly had a sour taste in it as your tongue licked along the backs of your front teeth. Holding your tongue you feel dejected, looking down, "Then let me go."

Bates's skin on yours felt wrong. You felt gross as his fingers danced along your skin, the wall behind you not letting you escape. With a knee on the bed, he's leaning over to you too fast for you to respond. His eyes hold nothing but disdain, a sickness that not even members of the Phantom Troupe hold. Or maybe you view them with rose colored glasses at this point as they're the ones Uvogin lets you around the most. But these Hunters, you hate them. 

"Get out." You try to say with as much strength as you can muster. Trying to make yourself appear angry, scary. 

He sighs, "No, not until-" and he kisses you all sloppy and wet. Trying to force his tongue into your mouth as you clamp your lips tight as possible, pushing against him, kicking at him. You're on fire as he tries to push forward, licking and nibbling along your bottom lip with grunts, unpleased grounds. He was stronger and tried to grasp parts of your body, tried to pull at your nightgown and you're suddenly able to pull yourself together. The adrenaline that courses through you allows you to kick him as hard as possible in the gut, the wind stolen right from his lungs as he stumbled back. Piercing eyes meet your gaze and as Bates struggles to breathe, he's back on you. 

Hand on your neck, fingers squeezing so the corners of your vision begin to blacken, throat wheezing for air. Your eyes spasm as you see a nasty grin go across the Hunter's face until— he lets go, suddenly, backing away. Like a switch was flipped he looked as if he was in despair,

"I- Y/N, I'm sorry." what the fuck, "I promise you this," His eyes narrowed, "I won't touch you until our wedding night."

And he spun on his heels, stopping only because you called out to him, "Hey! When.. When will we marry?"

"Hm, it takes a bit to plan a wedding and we need time to get further from the Troupe. Few months." He said it so casually, you hated it. 

You were breathing hard as he left. Your hair clung to your face and neck as sweat moistened your skin. Finally relaxed from the sound of the door locking from the other side. But you were far from safe. 

It was hard to focus. All you can do is think. Not caring for the food sitting just a foot away, your hunger is gone anyways. You feel invaded and hurt. Confused. Your mind is racing from the news you've received, at the worst case scenarios of it all. Imagining walking down the aisle to a man you don't love shakes you to the core, has you slumped over with half lidded eyes staring down. You'd anxiously bitten and torn your nails until they bled, your fingers looked ugly, you thought as you peered at them.  

You're tired, oh so tired. Your body needs the sleep that it's blatantly screaming for as it shuts down. The lack of sleep was getting to you as you worried your body is giving into your illness you worked so hard to rid of. You don't count the drugs they pump into you as a form of sleep. So when you're awake, you're vigilant and scared so you're forcing yourself to stay up until you can't any longer. The hairs stood tall on the back of your neck with nerves swarming in your stomach. 

Funny, maybe you're even flattered that two men have gone out their way to stalk you, to learn all about you to fall in love. To even kidnap you. But it was such a stark difference between Uvogin and Bates, at least in your mind.

Or is your mind playing tricks on you? The air that leaves your lips feels thick, your heart plummeting. No. It's different. It has to be. Because you're going cold, palms clammy as you're running through memory after memory. You hadn't doubted your feelings for Uvogin or the situation in years, not since the first time you told him you loved him— When you were 21, Uvogin took you when you were 20.

As you eventually give into sleep, you were left wondering when Uvogin or another Spider was going to come traipsing through the door. To take you back to the life you were beginning to mourn for.

-

Uvogin hit rewind once more; watching the video footage for the nth time with brows furrowed, and a silent rage evident through tensed muscles. Over and over Shalnark told him to quit how harshly he jabbed down on the mouse and keyboard alike, that he'd break them. But all Uvogin cared for were the figures on the dimmed screens. The ones clad in uniform that whisked you away. 

You begged them to leave you. Begged them not to touch you, that you were confused and scared of them bursting in. How you pushed them away shrinking into the corner of your shared room. The fear sparkling in your eyes evident even from the camera and it twists his chest tight, makes the air thick as if he's losing the will to breathe. The hairs of his skin stand tall, limbs shuddering in vexation that could not be calmed. 

How dare they. He'd kill every last one of them, let their blood stain the ground as their heads would ooze brain matter.

You were still recovering from a months-long battle with an illness that had you both nervous for your health. You needed your sleep, food even if you couldn't keep it down, and certainly no stress— in hindsight Uvogin knew he shouldn't have left for this job, Chrollo told him you came first but you were on the up! It was only supposed to be a few days! And now these mystery figures- he assumes Hunters- have taken you from him. 

And hours turned into days. Days that Shalnark, somehow, couldn't find you. Nobunaga had no leads from acquaintances of his. Others ranging from Feitan to Phinks to even Chrollo pitched in, but nothing. 

Which then turned into weeks. 

Fucking weeks that brewed a hatred— something worse than anger, or rage inside of Uvogin. 

The idea of a group of Hunters competent enough to outwit them, stay from their unending wave of influence— left unease in the air. Chrollo's priority shifted from treasure hunting to tracking the group. Day in, day out. All attention on the matter. As the Phantom Troupe was to be feared, to be untouchable from their heists to massacres.

"Uvo."

What date was it? Time mixed. He can't keep it straight. Another day that Uvogin sits in front of the damned computer watching the footage, his only way to keep your voice fresh in his mind. 

"Uvogin."

"What." He snapped. 

Nobunaga stood with sword at his side, clearly worried for his fellow Troupe member- and friend, "Ready to head out? Heard some rumblings from some acquaintances who are fighting their way up Heavens Arena. Figured we'd go."

And he's jumping at that, "Damn right. I'll let the boss know."

"Going to talk to Shal, see you in a few." The swordsman remarked, secretly glad to see a fire back in the beast of a man's eyes. The loud brute, someone passionate about a fight, had become a shell of himself.

"What are you readin' baby?" Uvogin gruffly asked as he watched you with a bored expression. 

You're focused on the e-reader he got you that he had Shalnark jailbreak, "Mm," You finish the page before setting it down, "A book Paku recommended, a romance actually."

"What'you need romance books for? You got me!" He teased.

Rolling your eyes you give him the most innocent look you can muster, "Because it's interesting, fun."

"Yeah yeah," and his focus went back to the television, adoring the moments he could catch you entranced by your books. Always looking so adorable as your eyes scanned the words- an occasional reaction to whatever was happening in the story. 

But you didn't return back to the e-reader. Your attention was on him, a pink blush rising to your cheeks as your core burned. The vivid imagery of the smut you'd read minutes prior burned into your head, affecting your body as your thighs rubbed together. Seeing Uvogin manspreading on the couch shirtless, without a care in the world, had you eating him alive with your eyes, wanting one thing. 

With a smile you pad over to him, him raising a brow as you dragged your right leg over his waist. You pushed against his chest to steady yourself, now straddling him. He looked at you with amusement in his eyes, his hulking hands pushing up the edges of your shirt to feel your skin. 

"Whatcha doing little one?"

"Who says I'm doing anything?" You giggle, fingers tracing his thick pectorals, "Wanted to see you."

"Could see me from your place over there," He was being difficult on purpose you know, it just made you more determined. 

Faking an annoyed sigh, you lean down to capture his lips in a delicate kiss, squeezing his shoulder to ground yourself. Your fingers cupped the side of his face tugging at his sideburns, letting the scratchiness take over your senses as your hips buck. You sighed out so sweetly and cutely each time your lips separate with his, and as you feel his cock grow against your warmth, electricity shudders through you. And you're now certain he knows what you were up to, as if he didn't know from the start. 

"Want something girl?"

Uvogin knew exactly what his little baby wanted. How your eyes were half lidded as your hips moved against him with silent pleas escaping the back of your throat you couldn't stifle. You were a needy thing, hazed with lust for him, wanting to be his little fuck toy. So he readjusts you on his lap so that you're cradling one of his large muscled thighs against your cunt. 

"Awh- Uvo!" you gasp from the contact, "pl-please want-"

"Don't worry not gonna torture you tonight with that," He lived for your reactions to him. Lived for how flustered you got from the idea of riding his thigh, but he had something else in mind, "love when you get so desperate for me, lucky for you I don't wanna wait."

"Uvo~"

"Now now," He grinned mercilessly as you gasped his name when he flipped you two, all 400lbs of muscle and 8-plus-feet of him towering over you, large palms on either side of your head. You were desperate for contact. Legs wrapping around his waist, just trying to buck your hips up against his growing bulge, "I know how pathetic you get once I got you like this, yeah?"

You nod shakily.

"And that's just how I like you, takin' me all desperate and stupid on my cock. You want that huh?"

"Yes yes Uvo," You stammer, tears welling in your eyes as he pushes his groin into you for friction. 

"Mm," He grunted as his gruff hands stripped your shirt from your tinier frame, tossing it to the side. Smirking at your lack of a bra, he began his slow onslaught of kisses along your chest, making his way to your breasts. Taking one of your nipples into his mouth, you're whimpering as he rolls the tiny bud along his tongue, swirling and sucking, nibbling. With a grunt he gives the other the same attention, pools of spit streaming down your chest as his spit laminated you, all warm and making your head swirl. 

All you can think about him. Him. Him. Him. Bucking your hips and mewling wildly, nothing on your mind, everything a blank white as you desperately require more contact with his cock on your core. 

"Stop moving." Uvogin grunted as your nails dug into his shoulders, "Gonna take these off." And he ripped the boxers that adorned your lower half, uncaring if the fabric took damage. He'd get you more if you wanted. Anything you wanted. 

Uvogin licked his middle finger as he fell back to his knees, leaving you naked to the elements and him alone. Carefully he runs the digit along your glistening wet slit, watching how you shiver from the ghostly touches. Already a mess for him, dripping onto the couch as he decided he'd start with two fingers now, you seemed wet enough! Just two fingers stretch you completely, one finger of his alone was larger than the cock you had for your first time as a teenager. So you were sobbing by that point as his two fingers slid in and out of your cunt, lewd squelching noises filling the room intertwining with your moans. And it was music to Uvogin's ears. 

You were melting like molten lava, the knots in your stomach unwinding as you felt a rush of a heavy orgasm coming over you. Your pussy spasming around his fingers, a cry leaving your lips as slick gush rushes from you and onto his hand and the fabric you lay upon. The joy you felt as he laughed calling you cute, made you feel good. So good your lips part and tug up at the corners.

Uvogin's next movements had your mouth watering. He slips off his shorts, his long and thick cock springing up into the air slapping against his upper stomach. Pre-cum leaks from the bulbous tip and you were suddenly reaching for it, to squeeze and tug to get him closer. 

"Wanna stuff you all full of my cock, need to." He grunted as he lined his thick cockhead with your entrance, prodding at it and teasing your clit with slick motions. Uvogin knew he should have prepped you more but a big piece of him lost control when you initiated sex. His mind goes blank over the fact your perfect self wants him. Put him in overdrive and he wants you to fill your pussy with his girthy cock that barely fits, bulges your stomach out as he has to force it to the hilt because his size shouldn't fit inside you. And oh how you cry so sweetly begging for him. 

"Please- please-" and he hasn't even begun to thrust into you and you were crying for him! 

Opening your legs further, resting the backs of your upper thighs onto his biceps he began to push his throbbing dick into your pretty, puffy pussy. Your tight walls always try to push the invasion of his thick length out, the intrusion breaking you down as tears felled from your lash line. Your legs shake, "Thank you Uvo- thank you- please fuck me- need your big cock in my tiny pussy-" 

"I know baby," Uvogin cooed, lining his hips up for a better angle before he finally slams all the way in. You stifle a silent scream, a pained yet pleasured moan as your eyes roll back in your head, a stupid, lips parted smile growing, "So fuckin' tight little girl, feel ya squeezin' me so good."

Uvogin leaned forward and tilted his head in such a way to capture your lips in a heated kiss through your whines. Your fingernails dug into his skin with more force as you tried to relax around him, though you knew it was futile, it always took your breath away expanding your insides when his cock entered you. Your poor gummy walls spasming around him trying to get his length out of you, your bundle of nerves on fire as you feel it down in your toes. 

He let you breathe for a second, giving you time to adjust. Because he knew you were all full of cock, probably feeling him in your damned stomach, oh how he smirked at the outline of himself in your abdomen sending chills down his spine. Even his cock still inside you, your lower stomach was expanded. You'd spasmed around him whining and whimpering, begging as flutters of pleasure shudder through your nerves, top to bottom. He loves admiring you like that. Being able to look at where you two are conjoined- seeing your tiny hole all stretched around him at your core- it doesn't look right. As if he'd split you in two with a dick with more girth than parts of your legs. 

"Breathe baby," Uvogin chuckled as he saw your eyes going white, tapping your cheek with his index finger to get your attention. 

So he pulled out just an inch, letting you gasp for air as you came back down to earth with his bulbous tip no longer forcing its way into your cervix. Blinking furiously, your breathing returned as you wrapped your arms around his neck, "You can move- need you,"

"That's my good girl." Immediately he braced himself as his hips rose, cock just pulling out of you as your gummy walls clench back to normal. Feeling empty you go to whine in discontent, but his cock slammed back down into you, splitting you with velvet wrapped steel as all that can escape you is empty moans. The pace was faster than normal, that had you seeing stars. Crying how it was 'too much!' 

Your poor overstimulated cunt convulsed around his cock as an orgasm ripped through you, moans and the sound of slapping skin ringing in the living room. Uvogin was practically pleading about how well you took him, how tight you were, as he drilled into you fucking you through your high. 

With hazy eyes you look at him as you clench even more from all his praises. His cock felt so good throbbing inside your soaking pussy that coated him in your cream due to the bliss filled pain.

"Fucking cockwhore, you know that? Just a dumb little fuck toy for me to use. You love this don't you?" Uvogin grunted, losing himself in the pleasure of your clenched gummy walls around his hard length. He was doing everything to keep himself from finishing right then, wanting to enjoy this a bit longer. But you were practically comatose- with tears falling down your cheeks and dumb cries falling loosely out your lips. He was sure you don't even know what's going on at the moment, the pleasure overwhelming your shaking form as he forced another orgasm out. Uvogin knew all your spots- knew how to curve his hips in every position to hit just the right spot, that sensitive bundle of nerves that was always your undoing. And how you silence with a scrunched nose and spasming eye, he knew he was doing his job. 

You mindlessly nod, bliss painted on your fucked out face as you hoped it was enough of an answer. Because you loved this. Wished he could fuck you until you were a babbling incoherent mess all the time— because you didn't need to think or worry, just feel the pleasure he gives you while his lips pattered your skin with sloppy kisses.

"Gonna cum baby, gonna cum in my pussy," Uvogin fell forward onto his forearms as he crushed his mouth against yours. Giving several long thrusts more only to break away as he cums so hard his vision whites out, grunting like he was seeing heaven. Cock twitching as he filled you to the brim; hot, thick liquid coating your insides as your hips jerked against his. He rested his forehead to yours, both your heavy breaths intertwining, "I love you," Uvogin whispered, "And I love you," you return, hugging him close and tight as possible.

Uvogin missed you. He heard your voice everywhere. Saw your beautiful face everywhere. It was naive of him to daydream about you walking back through the door and into his arms. The way the Hunters handled you, uncaring for your safety from the start, he knew they'd never let you go back to him. He needed to get to you.

He honestly thinks he's dying. As if a piercing blade traced along every inch of his skin in an itchy fury, and a hole permanent in his chest. A piece of him was quite literally missing. You. 

A trail of bodies have since been left in the wake of your kidnapping. Anyone with deduced association to those who took you were found, tortured by Feitan, and eventually killed when they had nothing useful. Anger was something Uvogin was known for, his brash personality, and that devilish smirk. He never backed down from a fight and that included finding you. So nobody had seen him like this. Stressed. Lashing out at his fellow members in ways he would never have dreamed. An empty shell. As if having you taken from him set him on a path of chronic suffering, a chest as if its heart had been ripped out. 

"We'll find her," Nobunaga's voice finally reached Uvogin's ears. 

Uvogin laid on a small cot staring up at a cracked popcorn ceiling, eyes tracing the zagging dark lines. He's too in his head, he knew it, "Yeah, today wasn't too bad." 

It took the pair a week to get to the Republic of Padokea, then a few days to arrive in the city where Heavens Arena was housed. The bustling city could have been a risk for the two, but it was the crowds of bizarre people alike heading to watch battles that helped blend them in. No one bat an eye at two men who looked to be fighters- and no one batted an eye when bodies randomly showed up. 

"Mac said he's gonna keep his ears open. Never know who comes through that Arena," Nobunaga said, referring to their productive conversation with an old associate, "We'll get back and let the boss know."

For the first time they had a trail to follow giving the large man hope during a time of unending night.

-

THREE MONTHS LATER

There was a heavy thickness to the air as you were prepared for the night. Sitting upon a stool as hair and makeup was tended to, whilst you're adorned in a white dress that engulfs you in tulle flowing about. As if it weighed a hundred pounds, it was a burden upon your shoulders even from the light fabric that went down your arms. You can hardly breathe from the tight bodice that forces your cleavage out the top. The image of yourself in the vanity mirror is someone you hardly recognize— a bruise along your cheekbone, heavy bags under your reddened eyes, pale skin from lack of sun. The only signs of life on your face was the blush painted on your cheeks and the shimmer on the corner of your eyes. Your eyes sting from the white liner drawn onto the waterline, and from the prior attempts at eye shadow. With each movement of the lady that stood above you, more of your hair tugged at and curled causing pain to your scalp. Everything was on fire inside of you. Everything hurt, a dread— a deep depression of abandonment and the reality of being left. 

You can hear commotion all around, rushing footsteps and commanding voices. Occasionally from the corner of the mirror you can see a Hunter peak in, nodding and speaking into what you imagine to be a phone. For all you really want in the midst of the wedding day preparations is to cry. You don't want to be in the gaudy-fucking dress Bates picked out that makes you look like a ridiculous fairy, with makeup and hair you despised. You're backed up against a wall, hopeless and preparing yourself for a life of misery- as dramatic as it seemed. Each day your hope of Uvogin being your knight in shining armor dwindled. Every loud noise you'd think it was him bursting in to save the day. 

You're scared. Fingernails digging into your palms, uncaring if you drew blood. Because with each passing moment pushed you closer to walking down the aisle to Bates. 

How could you feel pretty like this? All done up in something you'd have never chosen, all for a reason you didn't want. You felt ugly, a horrendous monster up on the hill to be ogled at. 

Each step you take as you were ushered out of the room, is a step further into the unknown as your pulse races. Your eyes frantically look for signs, for anything, for anyone. 

The last three months, four months total, with Bates and his Hunters had been your own hell. Constantly dazed and confused- vulnerable. Sick, lonely, forced to move constantly. Surrounded by weapons and learning intimate details about yourself that Bates knew- was terrifying. How obsessed he was with you, clear he had zero respect for you, viewing you as nothing but a possession. The bruise on your face showed such, and it was only the tip of the iceberg of the ones hidden by your dress. For his promise to never touch her until their wedding had been a lie, though never sexual, you were assaulted at any turn where you messed up. A thin scar along your left inner wrist furthermore proved the pain you'd endured. 

Tears well in your lashes as you descend a grand staircase, how you ended in this abandoned castle in the countryside in good shape, was beyond you. With hushed voices and rushed movements under the guise of night, you awoke in a canopied bed within a stone walled room with tattered tapestries.

Feeling as if you're walking to your death, you frantically look for a way out. If you had the chance to throw yourself over a balcony or out a window.

Eyes were on you. 

People turned away to whisper. 

You recognize nobody. And all you want to do is shrink into your wedding dress to disappear. A part of you wondered if your family would actually be here like Bates promised- you doubt it though. You hadn't seen them in years. 

"Miss Y/N," a Hunter approached you and the women leading you through the castle. You'd seen him plenty before, and you didn't like him, "come with me," his tone serious and you can't argue. 

The Hunter shooed the women from you, telling you to follow him through an onslaught of maze like hallways. You can't keep track of where you came from anymore. Stomach to the floor, legs like jello wondering what the stoppage was. 

You'd normally be more conscious, but you'd been broken down to where your senses no longer proved helpful. Once able to memorize footsteps and the simplest of movements from a person- you were too exhausted now. As if your fight / flight left. 

A section of the castle you hadn't seen before, it's back at the top where you seemingly started. Hunters lounging in what felt like a tower where someone would be left to rot becoming a shell of themselves. The week they'd spent at the once abandoned, hauntingly huge stack of stones- the poor maids must have been worked to death to get it to the level of clean it was currently at. You felt terrible. This was all because of you. 

"In here." 

"I- don't want to." You mustered to say. 

"In." A command. 

You hate how pathetic you'd become. But you were smart to know obedience meant surviving. A tiny room with armchairs and an empty armoire, dimmed and flickering light. 

Head in your hands, defeated, but more relaxed as this change in plans was pushing back your impending marriage... nonetheless you felt defeated. Numb. Tired as your eyes felt heavy. You'd come to terms primarily, or were forcing yourself to all whilst dreaming of Uvogin day and night. You'd suffer if it meant living another day with the possibility of seeing him one more time. 

As your mind raced, overthinking into the abyss and not catching onto the previously panicked voices before you'd been locked away in that room— you weren't prepared for the sudden assault of commotion. 

BANG. 

You flinched brain rewiring, mind on high alert within seconds, dizzied from how quick you rose from the armchair. With vision spotted black, you attempted to open the door that kept you from the noise. What was that? It was silent now aside from the clacking of the lock that wouldn't budge no matter how hard you tugged. 

With a determination to figure out what it was, you raced to the barred window as if there'd be clues outside. But nothing. Just dark clouds with a looming moistness to the air, signifying a coming storm. 

Gunshots. It had to be. Because your blood ran cold the instant you heard the loud clap and then the cries. Loud yells of shrieking girls and of commanding booming voices. Panic ensued outside. 

Then it hit you. 

Is it them... Him? 

Hope rushed into your core. A gleeful explosion in your chest as a giddiness shuddered through you from head to toe, nerves making your stomach drop. The sudden need to get out of the room had you desperate looking for anything to aid you. Though you freeze, knowing better. Uvogin always warned you to stay put if something ever happened with you around, explaining he'd be devastated in himself or any Spider accidentally hurt you. So like the obedient girl you always were for Uvogin, you go back to sit, and listen.  As if your brain and body acted out of an involuntary familiarity. 

Listening to grunts, hacking up of what you assumed to be blood- the whipping of thin metal had you sitting on the edge of your seat. Thuds and squelching make nauseas and bile rise in your throat, that you desperately tried to swallow down. Your stomach lurched as footsteps sounded from the opposite side of the door. And it was then you wonder, if this would be your end or your rescue. 

Holding your breath, you wait, the air around you going numb as a high pitched buzzing takes over your senses. Heart thumped in your ribcage as the door rattled, only to slam open with a flash of orange and smoke. A tall, thin figure was all you could make out as you squint. 

Your eyes widened, it took you a second to recognize the dark haired man that was now showcased from the small light of the room, "Nobu?"

"Well shit," He smiled, relieved and surprised as he re-sheathed his blade, "Look at you all dressed up!" 

You couldn't even begin to try to stifle your smile, "No way.." You want to cry, cry and throw your arms around Nobunaga to thank him over, and over. But your thoughts were on your lover, "I-is he here?"

"Yep, so let's get you out of here and to him." But then his brows furrowed, "Your cheek, who did that?"

As he approached, offering a hand to help you up, you were springing with joy that you didn't even feel or care about the marks all over your body, "Bates." 

"The Hunter trying to marry you?" Nobunaga does a once over of you, needing to know how many of the Troupe members needed to hold Uvogin back based on how many marks were visible. 

"You know about that?" You whisper. 

"It's how we found you. He got lazy, Shal got a hold of a wedding invitation." 

"I see.. there's more bruises that my dress covers." You wouldn't lie. Couldn't lie. This was Uvogin's closest friend, someone you trusted implicitly as well. 

"Uvo's trying to find Bates right now. He's.. uh, not one you wanna deal with right now."

"How is he?" 

"Fucking terrible," For a second you'd have thought Nobunaga was trying to crack a joke, but his eyes were dark, "He's been looking for months, losing his mind, worried." You nod, sadness fills you, but Nobunaga grabs your shoulders forcing you to look at him, "I know you're probably angry, but don't be. He's ran himself into the ground to get you back. Eventually started down the road you'd died until Shal got a breakthrough basically saving him from destitute..."

"Y-You don't know what's happened to me here to just be okay..." You sniffled, as if trying to argue that you had a right to be frustrated and you should be able to express it, not stifle. 

"Then let's go give Bates and his Hunters what they deserve, what they get for messing with the Troupe." 

Were you ready to see him? You had many questions. Then there was the part of you that was angry, betrayed in a sense, but overall feelings of relief overwhelmed you. To know Uvogin never gave up made up for the last four months, that he hadn't forgotten about you. So your core welled with excitement, a rush of electricity that made your skin crawl. 

Has Nobunaga always been this gentle with you? Or had you not realized how bad of a state you were really in. Because you'd changed. And you never realized it, never given the opportunity. You were skin and bones at that point, cheekbones sharp, any fat was gone as your body used all it could for energy. Flushed skin- sickly. Your movements slower than you'd realized as the swordsman had to guide you beside him, help you keep your footing. And it was when you see Feitan, Phinks, and Machi standing yards from the door outside- you realize it was bad. Because they looked at you as if you were a ghost, in a way that made any remaining color drain. Because Feitan would never show surprise with how his eyes widened then brows furrowing. And Phinks stopped himself mid sentence it seemed as his mouth hung open. 

Machi was at your side immediately, as she'd been the one to care for your health throughout the years. Once you had weekly check ups where she'd investigate your body to tell Uvogin you were healthy and not hurting yourself. You'd hated those checkups, hated how it took away any options of self harm because Uvo made it seem like the consequences wouldn't be worth it, that it was only to be careful. Then somehow you'd managed to grow closer to the closed off woman when you fell deathly ill. She'd stayed in the guest room and suddenly having a girl around seemed like the greatest gift. You wanted to hug her as she grabbed your wrist with pursed lips.

"Where are you hurt?" Machi demanded. 

"I don't... know. Everywhere?" You stammered as your eyes grew moist. 

"You're not well.. at all." She said under her breath, "need to get you out.."

"What?"

Machi never answered many questions in general so you realized she wouldn't now. But you felt an odd sense of comfort that you assumed to be her nen, "Nothing. Come on." 

Your surroundings moved quickly. The four members of the Troupe that'd found you surrounded you in a protective manner. Your body felt so heavy, your legs like molten lava that wanted to sink to the ground. Oh- The ground sounded so good. Cold. A place to fall in a heap, let the ceiling swirl. Your thoughts grew oh so hazy as you were about to trip when- 

Phinks suddenly grabbed you, pulling you behind him as Nobunaga's sword unsheathed. In horror you watch as he effortlessly beheads two men with guns, Feitan following suit snapping the neck of someone else. You think you're going to hurl. Uvogin never lets you see violence to this level. Legs wobbling, you want to hide. The corners of your vision is bubbling with black spots. 

"Hey don't give out on us now, don't wanna get my ass chewed out by Uvo if you get hurt on our watch." Phinks grunted, his rough hands pulling your bicep hard enough to shake you back down to earth. 

You nodded slowly, "I-" 

"We're moving too slow." Feitan snapped. 

Nobunaga shot the short man a look, "I'll carry her,"

"No.. m' fine-"

An explosion shattered the air. 

"Shit."

"Y/N, stay here. Don't move." Nobunaga demanded as the others darted off with lightning speed. 

"What was that?" You asked as your heart rate spiked. 

There was turmoil in Nobunaga's eyes as he tried to decide his best course of action, "Stay here, we've already cleared surrounding areas so nobody should stumble on you. Besides doubt they want you dead." And he left you on that note. 

Left you standing there in a circular opening of a hallway feeling ridiculous. Alone. Vulnerable as you rubbed along your arms glancing around. A stench came from the far side which you caught red out of the corner, and against your better judgement you moved closer. Human remains smashed to mush. Bile rising up in your throat as your body swayed, you desperately tried to stay conscious. Until-

BANG. Then a roar- a resonating battle cry that made the ground shake- and a smile split your lips. Butterflies swarmed your stomach. A chorus of sweet symphony tickled the back of your brain. Like a hundred pound weights lifted off your chest for the first time in months. 

Uvogin. 

For a second you weren't sure if you should continue. Each step forward brought broken walls and destroyed bodies, old paintings smashed into the floors. Blood smeared and spattered. Your stomach churned, but the thought of seeing Uvogin allowed you to continue moving with a false sense of bravery. You weren't scared of him but you were scared of coming into contact with someone you shouldn't. What awaits you past each corner's a mystery, one that'd make your heart leap from your chest, you'd jump at each noise cursing yourself for not listening to Nobunaga. Because maybe you are scared to see Uvo. To see him in his element as the giant monster who reveled in violence. 

Your lungs hurt as the air grew dense. You felt a coughing fit coming over you as searing pain like a hot iron branded your chest. 

Heaving as you stumbled down a flight of stairs, heart pounding trying to keep your footing to not end up at the bottom of the staircase. Landing as gracefully at the bottom, pushing yourself up against a banister that looked downwards to an open foyer, you choke back a sob as you finally see him. All 8 feet 6 inches of him with flexed muscles, hair back in a messy bun- and you didn't care in the slightest about the blood soaked into his white tee-shirt. A devious, murderous aura surrounded him as a sickening grin was on his face as he had a group cornered. But all you saw was the finest man the world could offer as your breath was whisked away. To know you weren't scared of him like this made your heart alight with intense love- 

"Uvo!"

You'd just celebrated your 20th birthday last night with friends, wobbling into work later than you'd have liked. The bakery you worked for smelled of fresh bread, tart cherries, and an overly sweet note that made your stomach churn. You wrinkled your nose through the fog of your state, rubbing at your eyes and not noticing a familiar figure. He frequented your place of work, was large and you're not sure how a person like him exists. You brighten as you see him, his smile making butterflies swirl in your stomach. Uvogin wandered in one day and you hadn't realized that months down the line it would change your life. 

Because it was when the man you were seeing came in, unfortunately at the same time as Uvogin. Uvogin's smile faltered, chest alighting in flames of anger as his fists clenched. He didn't know about this boyfriend. And how he wished you a late happy birthday, brushing hair behind your ear set him loose. 

Blood splattered. You were shocked, frozen as you attempted to register what'd happened. Mind and body working overdrive to comprehend, but before it set in, your body went limp. 

That wasn't how he wanted to take you. He wanted you to fall in love with him naturally, then keep you close and safe, and happy. So he winced each time you screamed and cried, yelling at him that he was a monster. Uvogin was lenient though, understanding and more aware than most- a smart man who wanted you to realize you had your basic freedoms to be yourself with him. That the man you'd gotten to know at the bakery was still the man you kidnapped you! He believed you'd see it soon. 

And you did. You were clearly independent, uncaring if you had human contact he learned quickly. Which he hated as he'd sit outside your door just to get a glimpse of you- he was the desperate one. It took him bringing you an ereader for you to converse with him. Small thank you's or telling him about the current read. 

Soon you were craving his touch, his large hands along your skin, massaging your scalp— even kissing down your shoulder. Your mind blocked out all the kitchen utensils you'd once thrown at him in a futile effort to hurt him. Your mind blocked out the way you kicked and screamed when he locked you in his room so he could watch you finally sleep with danger in his eye that made you shrink. Your mind blocked out the emptiness and the fear he made you feel whilst you learned of his profession. And yet it was all replaced by the laughs he gave you, the presents, the tender touches, all the love- because no one ever made you feel as wanted or as loved as Uvogin did. He genuinely cared for you and you soon realized your feelings were the same, your life without him would be full and without meaning. 

A year since he'd taken you, you'd tell him you loved him after baking his favorite pastries. You'd always remember the way his pupils dilated and mouth dropped open, the flakey dough in his hand falling to the table top. How he was across the kitchen to capture you in a hot kiss, mumbling sweet nothings as he took you to bed for your two's first time together.

You were already sobbing as you willed yourself to get his attention, trying to call out his name louder than prior.

"Uvo!" You yelled, voice too scratchy that it hardly carried with the chaos amongst them. 

He couldn't hear you, you were far up and he was too focused on killing the men in the corner. And you realize something that brought you joy, one of them had curly blonde hair- Bates.

"Where is she?" Uvogin's voice booms up, sounding like music to your ears, "M' losin' my fucking patience here. Got me on the hunt for months."

"You won't have her," Bates was shaking in his boots but still attempted to remain stoic, strong, "She's mine now."

"Yeah yeah, yours. I'm sure." Uvogin laughed from the deep of his belly, "Give me a break. How well ya work with me here will depend on how you meet your eventual end. Slow and painful, or nice and quick?"

Bates motioned for the two Hunters besides him to move forward, to close the gap to entertain a fight. No longer do you see the confidence the cocky group who took you once had. Reality finally set in with what they'd gotten involved with- because you'd learned their bragging of stalking the Phantom Troupe was embellished to an extent. The reason the Phantom Troupe couldn't find them was because they'd been that irrelevant, the only reason the game of cat and mouse went on for so long. 

You don't want to watch but you can't bring yourself to tear your eyes off of Uvogin. How big his muscles were as he flexed, grabbing one of the hunter's heads, slamming into the ground, a ghastly crunch as blood splattered up. He was a graceful predator as he lunged at the other, who was then dead within seconds from the same. Your knees locked, wishing you'd looked away as you slowly sank to the ground. Fingers trembling as you stare through spotted vision. Tears stream down your cheeks as you hiccup out pathetic sobs. Gasping as you clutched at your chest, crumpling into a ball on your knees. It hurt. So much. 

What made you stand to continue, to find a way down to him was the fact you realized it hurt more being away from Uvogin. You couldn't handle another moment outside of his general proximity. 

A narrow hallway leads downwards a spiral stairwell, which you take one step at a time letting your fingers glide against the cold wall as if keeping you steady. Your body is hot and it's that coldness keeping you grounded as your footsteps echo, eyes darting about to look for a way to the room where Uvogin and Bates were. Uvogin's voice made it easier, never once could he be a quiet man and it made your heart swell. You'd be back in his arms in moments! And you weren't sure from how full your chest and lungs were if you wouldn't make it mere seconds more. 

Time transfixed as you stepped into a room reeking of iron and musk, your tiny heels clicking on the tiles, heavy pain shooting up your legs begging for reprieve. Your exhausted body from the months of wear and tear felt like it'd give out any moment, only your will keeping you upright. 'Uvo, Uvo, Uvo,' your thoughts chanted over and over. You dreamed of you two reuniting. Dreamed of him saving you like a knight in shining armor, how emotional and loving it would be. 

The two men don't notice you right away. Uvogin had Bates by the neck, pushed up against the wall with a menacing look pulling at his lips. 

You collapsed for what feels to be the nth time, overworking your body down to the bone. Pure adrenaline and emotions being the only thing to push you through. But you think you've gone and run out, all empty. With a huff you wipe at the tears still falling, just praying he'd notice as you whimpered his name over and over. But Uvogin was hot in the face, seething and speaking murderous nonsense to Bates, waiting for his fellow members. 

"I ain't killing you yet, you're gonna be spending some sweet time with our number two," Uvogin chuckled, his words sinister.

You know what that means. 

Palms flat on the ground as you regulate your short gasps. 

Uvogin's body tensed as a chill ran down his spine, he'd gone deathly silent amongst the chaos. Grip on Bates's neck loosening just a smidge to allow a ghastly noise from the hunter's throat. 

"Uvo.." You mewl silently, silently begging him to see you. 

Uvogin's eyes were on you, finally. His hands let go of Bates, who fell to the ground with a loud crack as he shrieked from a newly broken ankle amidst gasping for air from a bruised trachea. 

"Y/N?" Bates' screams were lost on Uvogin as he took slow, heavy steps toward you. There was disbelief on his face twisted with utter sadness. As if you were a ghost, he was scared, hesitant to approach you, slowing limbs. He towered over your frame, a moistness in his eyes as he looked over every piece of skin he could see. 

"Hi," You shakily sigh, relief filling your body up like it'd spill over. Looking up at him attempting to muster the cute smile he loved so much while seeing the devastation written across his. That pang in your chest knowing, but thankful, he suffered like you. 

Uvogin dropped to his knees, you in arm's length to him as inches of air exist between you, as if he was nervous to touch you. But he couldn't wait any longer as he knew it was you in front of him and not some apparition. You relax, shudder out an 'oh' as his calloused palm rests against your cheek, his thumb stroking your soft skin. His touch set you aflame as you whimpered, pushing your head further into his hand. 

"Oh my girl- my sweet baby," Uvogin grabbed your waist, finally, pulling you to his lap to hold you close with speed and little strength so as not to harm you. He could feel your increasing amount of tears through his shirt as your fingers gripped the fabric, "M' here now, I got you."

"U-Uvo!" You weep into his chest. Hiccuping and sniffling as tears soaked the large man's shirt. 

His large hand pets your hair, his other cradling you to him like you'd disappear any second. Large muscles corded so tight he may explode, emotions that'd been pent up for so long expelling. Uvogin's nen aura raged around him, around the room and expanding past the perimeter of the old castle. It was all enough to kill anyone who felt it out of fear, but in a way it was a comfort to feel his intensity, to know your protector was holding you. 

You're shaking; cold and exhausted, and finally your body and mind knew it was safe. Subconsciously, in the sense that it could finally shut down. Finally leave its survival mode you'd been running on for months. 

Through all the joy blossoming in your chest your limbs felt like lead. Your mind began to whir a million different ways like you were stuck in place but jostled around at the same time. 

"Uvo?" You sound so meek, so sick to him that as he cradled your cheek he could feel, see the weight loss and starvation that had set in. The sickly tint to your skin. Chapped lips. Dead eyes. 

His gaze fierce as he took in your limp state as you numbly stared at him, a crooked grin on your lips as your consciousness began to lull. 

"Hey, stay with me." Uvogin couldn't demand that of you but he still did. He still pressed his warm lips to your frigid ones, electricity igniting in both of your bodies. Desperation as your lips mesh and tongues entangled before your head nods back, eyes fluttering closed. 

But soon his voice goes gruff, hoarse as he calls your name. Trying not to shake you. Trying to stay calm as he cradled you bridal style, picking you up because he needed to get you out of this wretched place where another man tried to marry you. Were you breathing? He was hooked on watching your chest rise and fall, certain death gnawing at his mind if the time between breaths went too long. Only you could make his bloodlust become irrelevant towards the hunter as Nobunaga took over to haul Bate's limp body. 

Uvogin ignored the pitied looks from the other members. He only found reprieve as Chrollo expressed his support to do all in his power to help. And the understanding between him and Feitan that the normal torturer who worked alone would allow the brute to sit in.

-

When you slowly came to, your eyes burned and your lungs cried out for reprieve as you clawed at the air. Your fingers caught with something long as a sudden jolt of pain from your arm traveled upwards. It was dark, but a single light served as your beacon back to the land of living. Gasping for air, like breathing was a chore, like it hurt your lungs and heart and throat to do so. Through blurry vision you're waving a hand in front of your face trying to count the fingers.

The ground comes too fast and too hard. You'd overestimated trying to gain composure upon where you laid and overshot it. Now you laid on cold tiles pushing up to your knees.

Where are you? Was this a room at the primary Phantom Troupe base? You'd been once prior out of pure necessity. The lack of a window in the room seemed to support your thoughts. Because it came rushing back as soon as you thought about the Spiders. Uvogin. That whole sham of a wedding they'd stopped. Sobs wrench from your throat at how you were saved and somewhere the man you loved was doing gods knows what.

Why wasn't he glued to your bedside? Frustration bubbled up your chest and into your throat, a sour taste left in your mouth. There you stood taking count of yourself, only in socks and a thick cotton gown, blood trickling down your arm from where the discarded IV had been. 

On replay was 'to find Uvo.' Nothing else mattered. So clumsily you began your search, opening the door with a creak, a cold moist air hitting you smack in the face. Dim lights line the dark stone walls and faintly, so faintly you wonder if you're imagining it, you hear noise. If this was the same Base Uvogin once brought you too, it felt uncanny and more off-putting, like you were deeper underground. A sense of entrapment and claustrophobia setting in as you padded along the cold cement, clearly that of a basement. And clearly you'd been kept in the only semblance of a normal room to receive medical attention. The air grows evil- the only way to describe it as a chill runs down your spine. Your gut feeling is you're walking into a dangerous situation, forcing you to wonder some more if you really did get rescued. 

A flickering lamp. Dingy paint job spattered the walls that already began peeling. A lone door calling for you to come closer. 

There were voices on the other side of the steel door. A door where blood stained the ground heading in, where nail marks tainted the stone making your stomach churn. Beyond that door must have been where torture was conducted, by Feitan, so you assume he'd kindly point you in Uvo's direction. 

The lump in your throat made it hard to swallow. Your insides screamed at you to turn, to run, not to open the door that reeked of death. 

But you did anyway. 

Five bodies turn upon the sound. There was a man tied to the chair in the center, one that's almost unrecognizable. Almost. A litany of strange devices and tools sit strewn out throughout the room; on walls and tables. 

Uvogin stared wide eyed, "Fuck. Fuck." His confusion morphed to utter joy. A giant grin pulled at his lips as your gazes connected and it was as if the universe collided at that moment. One big galaxy of sparkling stars that shone around the man you loved. 

"Uv-" The reunion as Uvogin began his way over to you was cut short as you took in Bates, Feitan stood next to him with pliers. You gag, clamping a hand over your mouth. Skin, bones, some teeth, hair, and god knows what more litter at Bates's feet pooled in both dry and fresh blood.

Strong arms scoop you up and soon you're rushed out the room, the door reverberating on its hinges as it slammed. The medicinal scent you missed earlier became overwhelming as the surroundings you woke up to, surrounded you once more. 

Uvo was laughing at that point, hugging you as he spun your weak frame. "Y'finally awake baby thank fuck. Been goin' stir crazy."

You're swirling, nauseas, "U-Uvo," You squeak and your voice hardly sounds like your own. But you try to hug him back around his neck, your legs flailing before they connect with the ground. 

Uvogin dropped to his knees to be closer to eye level with you, his warmth enveloping you so intently you moved closer. Close as you could physically be as your hands comb along his shoulders- to his neck- to his cheeks where you squish and trace along his features. He watched you so patiently with a soft look, smirking as his hands squeezed your waist in reassurance. It grounded you, let you forget about the gruesome scene you'd walked in on moments ago.

"You're here." You whisper. 

"You're here." He countered. 

"I'm here." A large hand engulfed the side of your face, you nuzzled into it, "I'm not dreaming?"

"I fuckin' hope not."

Letting out a shaky breath you murmur, "Missed you. I stayed strong."

"Damn proud of you. Did so good."

You almost keel over at his words as they send shivers down your spine. His praise was music to your ears. Pink washes over your cheeks, flushing down your neck.

"Let's get you off your feet, Machi will kill me if she finds out you were up and walkin' around." Uvogin's world revolved around you from the second you met. He knew every tell of yours and how to make you tick. He knew when you were genuinely happy or sad, or even when you were holding back. Like a line tethered you two he could almost feel your exhaustion and worries. He saw the sickness wreaking havoc on your smaller frame, one that was all bone and skin. 

Uvogin situated you in his lap where he perched on the bed leaning against the wall. Your side glued to his chest where your head could slot perfectly into the crook of his neck. Yet you opted to stay looking at him to take his face in like you'd never see it again. His eyes intently staring into yours speaking a thousand words that could never be relayed by mouth. 

"I started worrying," He clicked his tongue, "That you wouldn't wake up, no matter what Machi said. Seeing you laying there like a fuckin' dead person killed me because, how's some pathetic hunter gonna claim he loves you but let you rot away. Machi said you were pumped so full of drugs over the months waiting for them to be flushed out was gonna take awhile."

"How long was I out for?" You cringed, remembering pieces of what you'd endured. 

"Week, Machi thought it'd be longer. That's why... thought I could step out for a few hours..." You knew he was referring to the torture session, "Of course you'd wake up the one time I leave for more than 30 minutes, sorry you had to see that babe."

You shake your head, "S'Okay. I'm okay, don't want to think about it."

"You don't gotta right now but- I wanna know everything they did to ya. We're keeping him alive til' we know."

Want fills your core, bursts of warmth within you and you're pressing your lips to his. You choke out a pleasured sob from the feeling. From the delight. From your shivers of emotion you couldn't understand. "Want to know about everything you did too. Thought about you so much, imagining when you'd come and get me. I worried- I know you're strong but couldn't stand thinking you got hurt somehow and I wouldn't know."

Uvogin pulled you back in by the back of your neck, his kiss bruising compared to your delicate one. A kiss filled with desperation and fear, that Uvogin needed to feel to taste that you were in his arms. He needed you to feel through the kiss how much he loved you, how thankful he was. 

"You don't worry about me." He pressed his forehead to yours, "I would have turned every city upside down to get to you. Nothing would have stopped me, only death. I feared the state I'd find you in..." 

Tears drip down your lash line. 

"I won't fail you again." He said with determination that made you shiver, that nestled so deep down into your bones you knew it to be true. God bless anyone's hearts if they try something with you in the future. 

"It wasn't your fault." 

"But it is. Supposed to protect you, didn't realize we were targets. Got too comfortable I guess." His large hands prod and stroke along your skin. 

You watched the storm that raged within his features and you allowed him to think while you went back and forth within yourself. Do you admit you felt abandoned at times? That you're angry? Or would that upset him and he'd punish you... That struck a nerve. You couldn't remember the last time you worried how your words or actions or feelings would lead to a punishment. Your mind swirls about the things Bates said to you but a wall stacks right back up, you push the intrusive and wrong thoughts away. Bates had tried to plant little seeds of doubt within you, because you'd been so happy with Uvogin prior. That was it. 

"You tensed up baby, what's wrong?" 

"I-"

"Take your time."

That was the Uvogin you knew. Not just the rowdy big man. One that understood, was patient with you. "I just... So many thoughts keep coming at me. Haven't been in my right mind in so long, I was always being forced to take things so I wouldn't know my surroundings. Half the time I felt empty like... my head was empty."

Uvogin's grip tightened, "Bastard."

"I don't even know if I can tell you everything, because I don't know if I know it all. If that- makes sense."

"It does. Maybe it'll come back, maybe it won't but nothing is too insignificant."

"Is something wrong?"

"Not sure yet. But it don't concern you, you're safe and I'm keeping you out of it. I ain't leaving your side unless absolutely necessary." 

You could only nod, butterflies flitting in your chest as you reached to grab his right hand, pulling it to your lap. He let you trace along his palm, squeeze and massage his fingers until you deemed it enough. His fingers engulfed yours as they intertwined. 

"They primarily left me alone." You wanted to, no need to tell Uvo the things on your mind while they were fresh. So then later if you remembered more the pieces could fall into place and you didn't want to carry it alone, "At first Bates tried- he tried to be with me, told me I couldn't truly love you. I tried so hard to get him off me but he kissed me and I just remember flailing and eventually he backed off. Said he wouldn't touch me again until our wedding night." If words could kill, Uvogin would have been broken on the ground from the anger that overwhelmed him. Such a petrifying aura but you squeezed the hand in yours as tight as possible, but easier knowing his anger wasn't directed at you. "Otherwise they only ever got violent when we switched areas, like I was the plague or something they needed to eradicate how I felt about you." You move your arm to show him the scar on your wrist, then next the litany of bruises your dress covers.

"Saw all that." Uvogin grumbled. 

"Uvo?"

"Yeah?"

"May I speak freely?"

"Course you can, just me."

"I..." You closed your mouth, you still had time to back down. But you couldn't. You suffered. You'd been violated in more ways than one and he needed to know your fears, your current grudge. "Thought, at times, after so long you... weren't coming." Your words were hardly above a whisper, your insides thrashing as you slowly said a feeling that persisted during those four months.

He was almost too quiet for your taste. Left you chasing your panic on how to fix the situation, how you'd calm him down. 

His jaw locked. 

"I'm sorry baby." 

You could breathe. A comforted exhale of your distress leaving you, made you feel foolish for ever doubting him. 

"I assumed you'd feel that way, much as it hurts me because I'd never leave you. Four months was too long and I'm sure those fuckwads were trying to fill your mind with nonsense. If I got to spend the rest my life makin' it up to you, I will." Once Uvogin had his mind on something, he rarely could place it elsewhere. Made you think back to how hard he tried to make your favorite cake for your birthday, even trying days afterwards to get it right. He was stubborn and needed someone to ground him more often or not. So you wonder if Nobu stayed by his side during your absence, because you were sure Bates would have told you if Uvogin went on a murdering rampage; To turn you against him. 

But Uvogin was your savior, was the one who cared for you for years. Yes things were rocky at first, he'd gone about things all wrong he even admitted to it. But he hadn't hurt you, he loved you. You loved him. Loved him. Loved. Him. Right? Right? Right? Right?

The sudden build up in your chest, the ringing in your ears came to a staggering halt. Yes, you did. 

-

With every movement you had a larger shadow for all 24 hours of the 21 days since you woke. For when you coughed or let out shuddered breaths, he froze. When you cried, he held you while rubbing your back, reaffirming you were his. Apologies would fall from his lips day after day as his fingers touched every inch of your body- 'I'm sorry for not keeping you safe,' 'I'm sorry for not finding you sooner.'

There you sat in Uvogin's lap, clad in an overly large t-shirt of his that you swam in. One of his arms locked around your waist whilst the other traced circled on your bare thighs. You could hear how his heart beat meticulously and soothed, his breaths light, and it calmed you. Some days have been harder than others- you'd wake up in a panic, scared you were back in captivity with Bates. And each time Uvogin would trap you taut in his arms cooing to you sweet nothings that you were safe. That no one would ever take you from him again. 

"Eat more of your dinner baby, need to get some meat back on those bones," Uvogin pressed a finger into your thigh to get your attention, nodding to the half eaten meal on the coffee table. 

"I'm full," You responded swatting at his hand, "Will make me nauseous if I have any more."

"Oh, yeah. Well, guess we'll give it an hour or two then I'll heat it up for you unless ya want something else." 

"It'll get better, Uvo.. I know you're worried, patience." 

"I know I know. Just can't believe how damn boney you are now, I miss all that pudge I could grab and squeeze." He pouted. How funny to see such a monstrous man take on the form of an upset child. 

You turned your head to stick your tongue out at him, "Not you preferring me chubby,"

"What? I like fuckin' you in front a mirror seeing your tummy fat fold, so beautiful. And miss squeezing your thighs, too tiny now." Uvogin reminisced jokingly. 

"That's cus' you're so big."

"Yeah but you love how big I am, n' I love you my tiny little girl no matter what." He began to pepper kisses against your neck as his grip tightened.

Uvogin had a way with words that made you brain dead- and with that gruff, sultry voice of his never helped as it entranced you no matter what the conversation was. The way he made you feel so small and so cute, that he was your big strong man, your protector that loved you to death. That would search to the ends of the world for you. You just adored the way he made you feel- he was exactly what you wanted, needed, and more.

You grew warm with need, leaving you flustered on his lap. Unable to control your racing heartbeat, you pressed a kiss to the corner of Uvo's mouth and retreated to the bathroom. You pranced away leaving the big man to groan out, playfully calling for you to come back.

But you only rolled your eyes giggling, prancing into the half bathroom of your new place. 

Uvogin made the decision, which you agreed with, that going back to your old home wasn't a good idea. The possibility of panicking upon being in the place you'd been taken by Bates was high. You adored the new townhome Uvogin picked in a city where privacy was king and no one dared venture if they didn't have the money. But still isolated enough for Uvogin to blend in and leave on a whim. And smack dab next to Phinks and a girl he'd taken to. 

Splashing cold water on your face, it helped calm down the heat rising up your neck. 

But suddenly the smile you adorned fell flat. 

Hands trembled. Gripping the sink counter, the reflection you see staring back was one you liked. Life returned behind your eyes, cheek bones weren't as sunken. Yet the moment you close your eyes it was like ugly flashes of a dark room, swirling rooms, and a gaudy wedding dress took over. With a jolt you jumped back. In and out.  But your breathing doesn't slow, not as your legs crumble, pushing yourself against the back wall. Over the toilet you empty the contents of your stomach, painful gagging and heaves. Tears streamed down your cheeks. A pulsing prodded behind your sinuses, contorting features as you internally begged for it to stop. So much pain. Even when you slept you saw Bates and his men, forcing you to live through each needle they stuck in your arm. Forcing you to feel the physical and emotional pain all over again until you woke up screaming. 

"Babe?" Uvogin's concerned voice sounds from outside the door.

"I'm.. okay." You croak, sounding significantly worse than you felt. 

Immediately the door banged open, Uvogin through the doorway in an instant. His fear settled as he saw your form curled over the toilet, staring up at him with red eyes. 

"Ah shit." He dropped down next to you, massaging his fingers along the nape of your neck, "Did'ya get it all out you think?"

"Yeah, it wasn't much." You shakily reached to flush the contents, "I keep seeing them."

He frowned at your omission, unsure what to say. He continued to prod at your skin, attempting to bring you any sort of comfort. His pointer finger dug into the ridges of your spine, hearing your soft mewl for him to continue. 

"How do I get better?" You asked, though it was a question neither of you could answer. Uvogin was the furthest from a qualified therapist, his recommendations ranged from murder to... well murder.

"Time?"

You laughed quietly at his attempt at advice, falling back against Uvo. His giant body grounded you, he was your shield. If only he could be a mental one. "I know I'll be okay. Just want to go a few days without flashbacks or reminders, or nightmares. Can't wait to eat a normal meal."

Quiet fell over you. Solemness as your eyes connected. What was he thinking?

"Uvo?" You watched him nod, "I love you."

"I love you too." He chuckled warmly, kissing the top of your head. 

Strangely enough that incessant ringing in your ears was back. Like that phrase triggered something. But you stared at Uvogin through the numbing noise, trying to fight through it as you cupped his cheek. Right? His forehead fell to yours. Right? His lips met yours uncaring for the fact you'd just thrown up. Right? The large man descended on you like prey, tugging at your clothes, a whine elicited from the back of your throat. You think he mumbled something about how much he missed 'fucking you' that he needed to be inside you. You wanted that too. Right? Clawing at his back as his fingers coaxed their way inside you after he tore off your shorts. Your groans of pain quickly mixed into pleasure before you began to chase your high, before he let you drop. Empty. Then you felt the head of his thick cock prod at your entrance and your shot alive with adrenaline and electricity up your core. He hadn't prepped you enough, it would hurt but it'd fill you and stretch you so good how you liked it. And like that you became one with him again after five months.

Right?

[castiwls]

peter - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'Said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me’

Requested; anons

Notes; this is long (for me) and sad :( reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Dean Winchester was a man you’d never be able to understand. You’d only been 18 the first time you’d met him. You’d been bright-eyed and optimistic about the world, freshly out of high school and enjoying your newfound freedom when you’d stumbled into a dinner drunk on cheap vodka and craving some sort of food.

He’d caught your eye almost immediately. Your drunken confidence led to you finding yourself in the seat opposite him, a small smile pulling at his lips as he watched you ramble almost incoherently before falling silent.

That meeting alone led to a six-year relationship. For a moment you’d believed that Dean may have been the one. That you’d been one of the lucky few to find your soulmate at a young age meaning you’d get to live your life out with him.

And then everything seemed to unravel right before your eyes and you were hopeless to do anything. Dean quickly went from someone you saw your future with, to someone you’d seemingly outgrown - even though you were two years younger.

By 25 you were ready to settle down, traveling around the country had been appealing when you were 18 yet it began to feel like a chore. You wanted a home, a place you could go back to after a long day and feel safe.

You’d argued about it until once you’d had enough. You’d left with nothing more than a note explaining yourself.

It had been years since you’d even thought about Dean Winchester yet now you found yourself face to face with a man you’d long since given up on.

Dean’s smile was the same. His eyes still held that sparkle that you’d loved yet it had dimmed slightly, his eyes more tired.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. You swallowed watching him. “Why are you here?”

“What. I can’t stop by and say hello?” He pushed off the door frame stepping slightly closer. He continued to smile yet you’d noticed it failed to reach his eyes. A small frown pulled at your lips as you placed a hand on his arm.

“Dean. What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing wrong.” He shook his head. “Dean, I’m not stupid. Somethings wrong, and where is Sam?” You ran your hand up his arm before placing it on his shoulder. His face dropped slightly at the mention of his brother. He sucked in a breath, his body seeming to deflate slightly.

Oh

“Dean i…I’m so sorry.” You sighed pressing your hand to his cheek. He stayed quiet simply leaning into your touch his eyes fluttering shut. 

You’d once promised yourself you’d never let Dean Winchester back into your life unless he finally agreed to grow up. Yet standing there in that moment you still saw that 18-year-old you’d met at the dinner.

Moving your hand from his cheek you stepped back. 

“I have a guest room.”

–

“He’s alive.” Your tone was dripping with disbelief as you stared at the man opposite you. Dean nodded his back against the counter. “Yeah.” He sighed running a hand through his hair. “He has been for a while.” Dean was talking as if this was the most normal thing in the world, he was using the same tone he’d use whenever you’d discuss dinner, or whose turn it was to take the trash out.

This was utterly insane. Even after he’d filled you in on everything that had happened since you left you still found the whole thing insane. Yet it was Dean so you’d believed him. You’d allowed him back in your bed and over the past year you’d fallen right back in love with him.

You’d finally got what you’d wanted. The life you dreamed of with him was a reality and you’d grown so comfortable that you’d almost forgotten what he’d told you years ago.

“I love you. But I can't leave hunting behind, It’s my whole life!”

The words had stung then and they stung more now as you stood opposite him in your kitchen. 

“So your going with him.” You crossed your arms and swallowed back the hurt which lay heavy in your chest. “You're going back.”

Dean watched you for a moment, his eyes downcast for a moment. “Sweetheart I have to-”

“No, you want to.”

Dean paused as you cut him off, taking a small step forward. He placed a hand on your arm. “I’m sorry.”

You looked at his hand for a moment before pulling back and turning around. In doing so you missed the look of hurt which flashed across Dean’s face before he followed you out of the room.

Walking into the living room you grabbed a blanket off the floor, folding it before turning back to him. “I know you're not sorry. I know part of you is glad, glad that you’ve finally got your get-out-of-jail card.” You placed the blanket down as he crossed his arms. “Thats no-”

“You don’t have to lie Dean. I know you well enough to know damn well that you could never walk away from hunting.” You let out a breath sitting down on the couch.

“I’m not mad. I just…” You ran a hand through your hair, leaning forward on your knees. “I really thought that maybe you’d finally grown up. That you’d realised that hunting isn’t a forever thing. But I guess I was wrong.” 

Dean sat beside you, his hand grasping yours in his. “That’s not true.” He shook his head. You turned to look out the window, your eyes closing for a moment as tears burned at your eyes.

Dean watched you for a moment before gently grasping your chin and turning you to face him. “This year…This year proved to me that maybe hunting isn’t my be-all and end-all. But I miss it.” He admitted quietly. “And I can’t let Sam do this alone, I couldn’t live with myself.”

Your eyes stayed on his as he cupped your cheek with his hand. “I love you.”

You sucked in a breath before swallowing. “Yet you still broke your promise.” 

Dean frowned, squinting slightly as he tried to figure out what you could mean.

“The note.” 

His eyes flashed with realisation before he opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “I told you to come back when you had grown up and were ready to walk away, and only when.”

His face dropped. “When I came that was true. Sam made me promise that when it happened I would follow through on that promise and I did. I did for you and for him.” He moved closer stroking your cheek. “Sweetheart you have to believe me.”

“I do believe you. But you still broke that promise.” You took a breath to compose yourself. “And I can’t wait forever, Dean.”

[holopossums]

Breakfast with the Baron

Breakfast is always more enjoyable when you share it with someone. Today you shared one with a certain large, pink sheep man who stole your heart and has the ring to prove it.

Mood music for peak domestic romance

Figured I'd try my hand at writing Gender Neutral X Reader/self-insert story to accompany the art! (First time ever, ended up being much longer than I thought because of course it is, this is me you're talking about. ~1500 words under the cut.)

WARNING: Story has mild, silly suggestiveness at some points. (It's very PG-13, but just in case loving and goofy descriptions of sheep men's bodies are not your cup of Dad Fuel.)

Enjoy!

Edit: Fic is now up on AO3, you can read it there too!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Sunlight streamed through the window in your bedroom, its rays falling on your form, and you stirred from your dreamland. Too early. You shifted so that you were facing away from the blinding light. But it was too late, you were doomed to be awake now. Bleary-eyed, you scanned your room and noted that you were alone. Not a large pink sheep man in sight. But the delicious scents coming from beyond the room indicated he was home, and that was enough to make you rise from bed.

After going through your typical morning routine, you found him exactly where you thought he'd be. Baron Draxum considered himself king of the kitchen, both at work and home, and he was wholeheartedly committed to feeding you well. Early on in your relationship with him, you wondered if he was spoiling you with so much home cooking. In time, you understood that it was his way of caring for your well-being—a love language. Now he made roughly half of your meals and you did not complain.

It was the weekend, so Draxum had gone all out even though it was early. Both of your favorite breakfast foods were on the menu. It was no wonder that you cartoonishly floated into the kitchen by following the waft of tasty smells. In addition to the meal, coffee was already brewed. A steaming hot novelty coffee mug that read "DAD FUEL" sat on the counter while Draxum cooked. Judging by the droopy eyes and a croaky, mumbled “good morning” when you entered his domain, you were sure that he would be drinking most of the coffee pot whether or not you had any for yourself.

Before you sat down at the dining table, you peered out one of the nearby windows. It was a gorgeous sunny day in June, just before the sweltering heat hit hard. These cooler summer days were precious, so you had the urge to have breakfast outside in the garden.

While the old Yōkai had finally adjusted to life on the surface, he still wasn't particularly fond of bright sunlight, as he had lived underground for much of his life. You could already hear his complaints about your idea before you even started. Still, you two had been together long enough that you knew how to effectively persuade him.

Draxum was nearly finished cooking everything. He was working the stove and had his back turned. Even from behind, his unkempt appearance was attractive—nest hair stuck out in all directions, his robe rumpled, the way he tiredly hunched over his workspace. He was like this on weekends when he didn’t have to groom himself and rush off to work. While he cleaned up well, his natural state was just as stunning. You gingerly wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, nuzzled his back, and suggested your idea. Your face was buried in his back so you weren’t using puppy eyes, but you sure were using a puppy voice, a wholly unnecessary “pretty please with a cherry on top” kind of beg. His head tilted as he thought it over. A small smile graced his aging face when he looked over his shoulder. He agreed with a nod. Your loving expression worked like a charm.

Minutes later, the sleepy sheep shuffled behind you, breakfast in hand, to a big wooden picnic table that was partly in the shade of nearby trees. Your bountiful feast was spread out, more than enough for two. Books and other entertainment were also brought along, as you planned to camp out there for the rest of the morning.

With an old man grunt, Draxum plopped down in a white chair on the far side of the table, and you sat opposite him in a matching chair. You couldn’t help but smile at the ways he was handsomely growing older. You wanted to lightly tease him about sounding as old as he looks, but you bit your tongue. With his back toward the sun, it illuminated his form and made him look ethereal. Disrupting the tranquility seemed like a crime.

Draxum was one of those people who didn’t care about much of anything too early in the day. He wasn't much of a conversationalist either, at least until the coffee kicked in, so he did not chat with you at first. Seemingly stuck in a lingering daze, he wasn’t even swatting away the gnats circling him, but every so often one of his ears flicked on reflex when one got a little too close. Again, downright adorable, but you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from making any comment that would change his awareness. It was a miracle that the man managed to make breakfast as good as he did considering his state. Maybe he put in more effort to be attentive earlier, and now that you were sitting down he was letting his mind wander.

Not wanting to disturb him, you eagerly dug into your food, trying to keep your sounds of pleasure at a minimum. No words were exchanged, but none were needed. The peaceful sounds of nature accompanied you as birds sang their hearts out, squirrels scurried up and down the trees beside the table, and bugs lazily buzzed above your heads.

Perhaps it was the warm gentle breeze or a subtle movement that did it. However it happened, when you looked up from your plate, something changed about him that your eyes fixated on while you mindlessly chewed. You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you snapped out of it when you finally heard his gentle baritone rumble, still a tad raspy from overnight disuse.

"What are you staring at, love?"

Carnelians glistened with curiosity when his eyes met yours. He sipped on his coffee and did not break eye contact, more alert than before. But the tone of his question was adorably dopey and sincere, so it seemed he was still not as aware of the change as you were.

The sheep was so groggy that he failed to notice that his robe had slipped from his left shoulder, revealing half of his ample, plush chest. A nipple and scars underneath his pecs invitingly poked through. Even though you were well-acquainted with his body, the accidental half-reveal somehow made it sexier. Fortunately, there was a table between you and him. If there wasn’t, you might have been tempted to sidle up to him and bury your face in his cotton candy pillows.

It was difficult to avert your gaze from such a magnificent sight, but thankfully something else caught your eye. The wedding ring on his finger sparkled when it caught a ray of sun. It was a pleasant reminder of the promise he made to you: I am yours and only yours.

Married life with Baron Draxum was interesting, to say the least. Though he was an aggravating man at times—his vices could be counted on more than one hand and his flaws on more than two—his love was strong and steadfast. Underneath all that pride and sass, Draxum was a soft man. He liked to challenge you—your mind, body, and soul—yet never made you feel like you weren’t enough for him. Whether in word or action, in his eyes there was no one on Earth as lovely and unique as you. He had quirky ways of showing it, but he always made it known in one way or another.

Despite his, he more than made up for any of your smaller grievances with endearing moments like these.

You took your time to swallow the food you were eating, set down your fork, and think of what to say. A coy smile inched its way across your face. You leaned back and waved your hand. "Oh, nothing. Keep eating."

The old sheep squinted at you. Whether or not he could sense your playful lie, he was still too out of it to probe further. He simply responded with a soft grunt into his coffee mug, set it down, and dug back into his food.

The cotton candy pillow continued to hang out all breakfast long. Either he did not notice at all, or he did and didn't bother to fix it. If the latter, who knew whether it was out of pure laziness or because he knew giving you an eyeful was a treat. Regardless, you were not eager to point it out and ruin the fun. It was hard to call it a wardrobe malfunction when the warrior's robe seemed to be functioning exactly as the universe intended in that little moment.

A sweet domestic life with Baron Draxum was never bland. Ordinary days and regular routines were marinated with the spice and zest of the love you shared. It was your secret hope that flame would never extinguish.

You had woken from your deep slumber from the night before. At least, you thought you had. But that morning felt so heavenly and blissful that you could never be completely sure it wasn't a dream.

[awkward-tension-art]

Bacta and Bandages Chp.6 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 5.

Blue Shadow Virus

CW: Slow burn, Two fools trying to ignore their crushes, Blue Shadow Virus Arc, Needles, medical talk, science talk, infections, mentions of dead clones, this is a long one, Reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), reader is a doctor, if I miss a tag LMK!

Tag list (Thank you for liking my writing <3) @heavenseed76 @arctrooper69

You were cleaning up the medical bay when your holo beeped rapidly at your desk. As soon as you pressed the button to answer, General Skywalker appeared, looking panicked.

“Doctor! What do you know about the Blue Shadow Virus!?” 

You shook your head in confusion, “I’m sorry…sir?” He was supposed to be on Naboo for a mission. You weren’t entirely sure of the details though…

“Padme, Ahsoka and Rex are trapped in a lab that's full of the virus in the air.” He explained rapidly, “What do you know about it!?”

“I-what!?” You stood so suddenly the chair at your desk fell back, “General, the Blue Shadow Virus killed all of its hosts thousands of years ago through water, how…”

“His name is Nuvo Vindi.”

Your blood ran cold. 

You’ve been taught through your schooling the importance of ethics and morality in medicine. Vindi’s research had come up several times as prime examples of unethical science, and the consequences of breaking such regulations. Even before the war, Nuvo Vindi had been thrown out of the medical community for his downright cruel methods. 

So this is where the bastard had been…

You furrowed your brow, “Anyone infected has 48 hours to live. It causes dysfunction of the respiratory tract…even inhibits the blood itself from carrying oxygen properly. And it has a 99% lethality rate…”

Your heart broke. That was a death sentence unless they had protection. Rex will be dead in 48 hours…Ahsoka too. And Senator Amidala, who you only met briefly once before. 

“Doctor, please think of something, anything!” Anakin pleaded with you. He was frenzied and desperate. Something you hadn’t seen before.

General Kenobi stepped into the view of the holo, “What Anakin is asking, is what do you know about viruses in general, and can that knowledge be used to help?” 

You thought for a moment. You had contacts through the community. Those with more knowledge on viral outbreaks and infections. 

“Give me some time. I know who to contact.” You responded. 

The younger Jedi visibility deflated and nodded, “Please, hurry…”

Once he hung up, it finally hit you. 

He said Padme, not Senator Amidala…

It didn’t matter. You didn’t have a lot of time. Long distance calls weren’t possible on your holo, so you practically shoved Admiral Yularen aside when you got to the command bridge. A couple of bridge officers weren’t happy that you used the venator itself to make some ‘personal’ calls. You didn’t let them distract you as you reached out to your contacts.

A majority of them led to dead-ends. 

“100% lethality.” 

“No cure.”

“The virus is long gone, who cares?”

Until you made one more call. An old mentor in a brief tryst with virology you had in your schooling. She gave you a clue, “All viruses can be slowed by inhibitors, replication can be slowed until a cure can be made. It’ll buy a patient time, you know this. Why are you asking?”

“Theoretically, how would you cure a virus that you’ve never seen before?” You asked, swallowing.

“Break the capsid. You’ll need to know the exact protein that’s used, but…if you find a compound to do it, you can theoretically cure anything.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” You hung up and called General Skywalker again, this time on your personal holo as you rushed back to the medical bay. You needed supplies.

He answered, looking even more panicked and disheveled, “Did you find anything?” 

“How much of the lab is still intact?” you asked him, “I can buy everyone infected some time using viral inhibitors, and if the equipment is still intact I might be able to get some information that can be used for a cure.” 

“Are you suggesting you go down into the lab?” Kenobi interrupted, “Doctor, you said yourself that this virus is lethal.”

It hit you exactly what you were suggesting. It was dangerous. You’d have protection, but it would be temporary. An EVA suit wouldn’t last forever, but you had to try. 

You nodded, sounding resolute, “I am.” 

“Get down here.” was all General Skywalker said before cutting the call. He was panicking, badly. It was obvious to everyone around him. 

As you prepared yourself and a pack with the medicine needed to help the infected, your thoughts returned to Anakin and…Padme.

They were friends. According to both of them. 

But…well, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more between them. 

Like you and Rex-Stop it!

You were probably reading too much into it…Probably.

Instead of landing in the hangar at Theed, the LAAT dropped you off at the landing zone in the middle of a grassy swamp. General Kenobi and General Skywalker met you as you stepped off, the latter looking disheveled. He clearly had been pacing and running his hand through his brown hair. Pure anxiety was rolling off of him in waves.

“Doctor, are you certain you want to do this?” Obi-wan asked as you approached. 

You adjusted your com on your wrist. These damn suits were a pain to move in, but you put the EVA helmet on and nodded, “I am. Where's the hatch to the lab?”

“Are you sure this will work?” Anakin asked, voice cracking from stress. He walked with you, leading you to the entrance of the lab. 

You shifted the pack over your shoulder, “The viral inhibitors I brought should buy more time for those who are infected. In the meantime, I’ll collect the samples and analyze them for information. Once I know exactly what I’m dealing with, I’ll tell you what could be used as a cure.” 

You approached the hatch door. To avoid any danger to those around, you’d have to enter quickly. A little bit of the virus leaking out would easily be handled by the environment and atmosphere, but if the entire lab’s contents were released, it could cause disastrous issues. 

Especially if it contaminated the water. 

Anakin looked at you in worry. You’ve never seen the General so…scared. The situation called for it, of course, but it still surprised you, “What…What will you know what to look for?” 

“I’m a doctor, sir.” You gave him a soft, reassuring smile, “I’m supposed to know viruses and how to treat them.” 

At your words, he seemed to relax slightly. 

Without any more parting words, you opened the hatch and got inside the lab. Immediately your vision was compromised with the aerosolized virus. The blue was dense, denser than a desert storm. Carefully, you climbed down the ladder to the floor, and once steady on your feet, you activated your com. 

“Commander, I’m in the lab.” Your words were quiet, trying to reach Ahsoka, “Where are you?”

“What do you mean you're in the lab!?” It was Rex who asked, now even more worried. His voice was about as panicked as Skywalker’s was.

You furrowed your brow, answering, “Did the General not inform you? I have medicine that will help.” 

“No, Anakin didn’t tell us.” Padme responded this time. You could hear the annoyance in her sigh, “Of course he didn’t…”

“Sky guy…” Ahsoka groaned, “We’re in a safe room on the second floor..” Her words were cut off by a coughing fit, “We’ve cleared the droids already, so it should be safe for you.” 

“On it.” 

Navigating was difficult. The virus clouded everything in front of you, causing you to get turned around multiple times. The fact that you didn’t even know the layout of the lab didn’t help. You made one more turn and paused, through the infectious smoke, you could see the shape of two droids. They turned sharpy when they noticed you.

“Lifeform!” 

“Shoot it!” 

Fuck!

You dove back into the hall you just stepped out of as soon as they started shooting. One of the shots nicked the wall, causing sparks to startle you for a second. Your hand ghosted over your hip and you swore. You didn’t have your pistol, since this damn suit didn’t have a holster.

By whatever space gods existed you hated these fucking suits!

Your com beeped and Padme’s voice came through, “Doctor, we hear shooting. What's going on!?”

“You forgot two droids.” You answered over the noise, “And, admittedly, I don’t have my blaster.”

Less than a minute later, you heard more blaster fire and the telltale sound of droids clattering onto the ground. You peaked out of the corner, seeing the familiar shape of clone trooper armor through the haze. 

“Rex is on his way.” Ahsoka informed you belatedly, “I think…” 

You laughed softly, standing up, “Found him.” Disconnecting the call, you approached him and the other trooper, “I am so glad to see you.” 

“I wish I could say the same. What are you doing here!?” The captain snapped, “This virus is dangerous!”

His anger took you entirely off guard. First Anakin was an anxious mess, and now Rex was enraged. Emotions were clearly high on this mission…

“I know. But I have medicine.” You responded, keeping calm. You’ve been yelled at before. By patients and even other troopers. You could handle it. Even if it hurts for Rex to shout at you.

Rex’s shoulder slumped. He seemed to have caught himself in how he acted and quickly shifted back into his professional attitude, “I..right. Yes. the medicine.” 

The trooper behind him, Nere, you’ve recognized, began coughing and wheezing, leaning against the wall for support. Immediately, your hands reached into your pack and pulled out a small, portable oxygen tank. You got his helmet off and the mask over his mouth and nose within seconds. He gasped, putting his hands over yours to hold the small tank steady.

“Deep breaths.” You encouraged gently, “Keep breathing.”

It’ll only last a few minutes, but anything would help at this point.

Rex motioned for you to follow him down the hall, leading you to Padme, Ahsoka and the others. You got the trooper to lean against you as you followed the captain to the safe room.

Once inside, taking in the numbers, you got to work. Padme was the best out of everyone, so you’d have to treat her last. Rex was active enough to be walking around and even get the troopers in one part of the room, keeping them closer together. Ahsoka, based on the dark veins marking her orange skin, and earlier coughing, needed to be first. 

Jar-Jar….was Jar-Jar. He wasn’t infected at all. In fact, he was the only one other than you in a proper EVA suit.

Rex helped you get Nere to the ground. Once he was sitting against the wall, you stood and nodded to Ahsoka, “You first, Commander.” 

She seemed surprised, but moved to sit on one of the metal boxes that were stacked around the room. Once you were at her side, you opened your pack and began to get the medicine in order. As you focused, she raised her com to her mouth, “Master, why didn’t you tell us you were sending the Doctor down here?” 

After a second, Kenobi responded, “I knew Anakin forgot to do something.” 

The young Padawan rolled her eyes but didn't respond. She moved her face away and broke into a coughing fit. Luckily, you had another hand-held oxygen tank that you got gently over her face. 

As she held it and breathed, you started with the injections. Padme approached to watch you, the Senator looking at the syringes with slight interest, “What is the medicine supposed to do?” 

“The first injection is to boost the immune system,” You answered her as you worked, moving to the second needle, “This one, is to encourage oxygen to bind to blood cells.” Ahsoka nodded, also watching as you poked and prodded her arm. 

You carefully picked up the third and last injector, “And this is called a viral inhibitor, it works by slowing down the virus’ replication. But it won’t stop it indefinitely.” 

Senator Amidala looked grateful to you as you explained, “Thank you, for helping us.” 

“It’s my job to help people, Senator.” You returned her appreciative smile as you got a small patch to cover the needle marks on Ahsoka’s arm. 

“Hey, I already feel better.” the padawan perked up, “It's working.”

You stood and nodded, “Good.” Turning, you moved onto the others. Your work was swift and efficient. Each trooper gave you a ‘thanks doc’ as soon as you finished with them. 

However, you paused, kneeling by two of them. They were both still. The one on the left rested his head on the shoulder of his brother. At first, they looked asleep. But they’re stillness indicated they were dead.

“They didn’t make it.” Rex informed you sadly, “They were at the center of when the virus was released.” 

You had been too late. 

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, moving over to the Captain in order to treat him now. 

“What a waste…” Senator Amidala sighed, looking down sadly. 

“With all due respect, Senator,” The clone Captain spoke with politeness and professionalism, “It’s what they’re born to do.” 

That sentiment didn’t make her feel any better, “I hope their sacrifice brings us closer to peace.” 

“It will,” Ahsoka crossed her legs as she still sat on the metal crate, “We’ll bring peace to the galaxy.” She lowered her oxygen mask to talk before raising it again to breathe. 

“There,” Your eyes met Rex’s, “All done.” 

“Thank you, Doctor.” he smirked softly, warmth and appreciation in his brown eyes.

Padme stepped up to you, “If we survive this, I’d like to buy you a cup of caf.”

You laughed softly, rolling up her sleeve to administer the medicine. 

Ahsoka was silent, watching Captain Rex. The clone hadn’t said a word when he sprinted from the safe room to help you. It actually startled her, seeing the normally level-headed trooper act so irrationally. 

Why would Rex…

The padawan leaned forward, eyes on him as he checked on the rest of the men. 

Why…

Her thoughts were interrupted by you, “Alright Senator, done. This medicine buys you time.” 

“How much time?” One of the troopers asked, finding the strength to stand up. Seems the treatment you brought also managed to bring back everyone's stamina. 

You sighed, “Honestly, with the Blue Shadow Virus, it could be hours to days. I’ve never dealt with this virus before. No one has in over a thousand years.” 

“We’ll have to make the most of the time we have,” Padme sounded determined, “We should permanently seal the lab.” 

“Not yet, we still have a plan.” You sounded confident, yet calm, “The lab's main equipment hadn’t been destroyed right? I need to get to it.” 

“What? Why?” Ahsoka stood, “We should destroy this stuff, make sure no one can do something like this ever again.”

Your eyes met hers steadily. Normally, you’d try to act professional, as she’s technically your superior, but when it comes to matters of health and medicine, well…

You outrank everyone.

Your explanation of the strategy was quick but detailed. You went step-by-step of what you and the Generals had planned. Your words took the tone of that of a competent doctor, as if explaining a procedure to quell a patient's anxiety. This was what you knew, and it was clear in how you broke down everything for those in the room. 

Without any other questions, Rex, Ahsoka and the other troopers led you to the main lab area. As you walked, you were already coming up with the protocol to break down all components of a virus. 

Your mentor suggested breaking the capsid, the protective protein shell. Though, destroying the envelope would also be effective. There was also disruption of ion channels. You had options. No matter how you did it, a dead virus was a dead virus. 

And there was plenty in the air you could use for analysis.

“We’re here.” Padme interrupted your thoughts, causing you to snap back into focus. 

Through the thick, never ending blue smoke, you could make out lab benches, bottles of chemicals and some equipment. You were riding on the assumption that Dr.Vindi would have the supplies and machinery to perform what you needed.

The unethical fucker engineered the virus. If he didn’t have the basic tools for protein analysis, you’d question how he managed to do all of this to begin with. 

With a nod, you took a breath and stepped forward. Your mind snapped into that of a scientist now. You fell back into the years of classes, lab work and research you did in order to become a doctor. The world around you tuned out as you worked.

You moved with practiced movements, stepping over broken droids as you practically danced through the lab. You collected some of the smoke in the air, closing it off in a test tube. As you put the sample in a centrifuge and turned the machine on, you began to collect chemicals that you could use. 

Wordlessly, you got to a table as you collected the supplies. Your steps stopped at a shelf and you tried to kneel to grab another bottle. However, the stiff suit was inhibiting your movements. 

“Doctor?” Padme approached, noticing your stalling. 

You swore under your breath before grabbing your helmet and ripping it off, “This damn suit!” Your throw was hard enough to crack the glass when you hurled the round thing against the wall. The suit slipped off your body, and you kicked it away before properly kneeling and grabbing the bottle of ethanol.

“What-!?”

“Couldn’t move in that damn thing!” You spat, “Always hated them.” Immediately, the foggy air hit your tongue, and you tasted iron. The air was thick, feeling more like dust rather than anything breathable. You had to suck it up though, ignoring how, if this didn’t work, you just sealed your own fate. 

Well, there were worse ways to die than surrounded by friends. 

“W-why!?” Rex practically followed you as you continued around the lab, “Now you’ll get sick like the rest of us!” He got in front of you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I know. But if I can't move, I can’t work properly.” You pulled away and returned to the table with the chemicals. Your eyes were on your hands as you began to make reagents. After a minute the centrifuge stopped and you turned to grab your sample. Of course, in any other situation, you wouldn’t disregard safety. 

Afterall, you should be wearing proper gloves when working with some of these mixtures, but you didn’t have the time to dig around the lab for them. 

You poured one of the reagents into the tube with the virus and mixed them before putting them back in the centrifuge. 

Spin down the samples. 

Separate the proteins from viral debris.

Remove the liquid that contained the proteins you needed.

You were in your element. 

The entire process took a couple of hours. Once you had the proteins properly separated and prepared, you moved to the analysis machine and put the sample in. It would take some time for the equipment to read the proteins of the virus, but the process was moving along. 

Once the machine was running, you sighed and stepped back. After a breath, a cough forced its way past your lips. Right…the viral smoke. You were infected the moment you ripped off the EVA suit.

“Now we wait.” You looked at Rex who kept his eyes on you. He was standing straight, arms crossed. He seemed to have calmed down from you throwing yourself into the danger of the blue fog. 

“How long?” He asked, stepping over to you. He looked you over and frowned, “You’re starting to look pale.”

Well, you had less time than you thought. You glanced at your palms and flexed them, noticing the darkened veins. 

Damn, the Blue Shadow Virus works fast.

It never occurred to you that the virus could have worked much quicker when it was aerosolized. Judging by the way Ahsoka had begun to cough again, the medicine wasn’t as effective as you hoped as well. 

You turned to look at the analysis machine. It had beeped, and you read the results on the datapad attached to it. 

Bingo. 

Your com was on and to your lips without wasting a second, “General, I have the results. You’ll want to find something that contains anamitadine or risitine. That's the component that will break the virus’ capsid without poisoning us.”

Anakin’s voice came through, sounding relieved, “Thank you doctor!” he hung up, causing you to flinch slightly.

After a second, General Kenobi spoke through his own com, “We will speak with some of the scientists here in Theed. In the meantime, keep everyone as alive as possible.” 

“Will do, Generals.” You hung up the com and turned to Rex, “I suppose now we wait…” 

And wait you were forced to. Among those hours pacing and administering more medicine, you sat down, leaning against the wall. Ahsoka joined you on your left, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Hey Doc…?” The padawan spoke softly, clearly getting hit hard by the virus, “You're a good doctor.” she sounded tired. Fatigued and sleepy.

You looked at her, adjusting her position so she was more comfortable, “Thank you Ahsoka. You’re a good Jedi.” The poor girl was trembling slightly. She was clearly scared, being trapped and unable to do anything to save the people around her….

She was just a kid. A child who was forced to be a soldier. 

Padme sat down to your right, leaning her head against your other shoulder. Both of them were fatigued, remaining silent. 

Being as gentle and slow as you could, you made a call, “General. How’s the search for a cure?” Your sentence trailed as you started to cough. You’d give yourself some of those injections but you were running low. Everyone else needed them more than you. 

“Trying our best,” Obi-wan answered, “How's everyone else?”

You turned to look at both Padme and Ahsoka. Both of them had drifted to sleep. Good. they needed rest. Jar-Jar sat next to Senator Amidala, but kept space between him and her. He closed his eyes, intending to sleep as well, it seemed.

“Tired.” you croaked, “I don’t know how much time is left. I’ve run out of viral inhibitors.” 

“You need to hang on,” Anakin burst on the other end, “Please, you need to keep everyone alive.” 

You jerked, coughing into your palm before addressing the Generals, “I’m trying my best…just…hurry.” Your eyes looked up at Rex. He had regret written all over his face, but wordlessly, he sat down next to Ahsoka. The other troopers joined him. 

You learned from Hardcase that sometimes, after an extremely stressful mission, the clones will move their mattresses together and sleep in a pile. It was unknown to you if the drive for affection was a result of their upbringing or mandalorian DNA. Regardless, it was nice to know the men relied on each other so much. No one was ever truly alone.

“Vi Kelir oyacyir.” You whispered, causing Nere to look up at you. Even through the helmet you could tell he found comfort in your words.

“Vi Kelir.” He mumbled, laying his head on the lap of the other soldier.

At some point you had fallen asleep with the others. You drifted, wrapping an arm around Ahsoka to keep her close. Someone, Rex, interlocked his fingers with yours. Padme snuggled close into your side. 

For a second, you thought it was OK to die like this. 

Until you woke to a needle in your neck and an oxygen mask being shoved over your face. You jerked, ready to fight until you heard the voices of medical droids, “We are here to help you.”

“Get them all to the surface.” 

Medical droids… A rescue. 

The warmth of the pile you and the others had been in waned as everyone was pulled away and put onto hover stretchers. You turned your head, eyes open meeting Rex’s. He was pale, just like you and the others. Despite that, he gave you a tired smile. One you returned.

Generals Skywalker and Kenobi were just in time. 

As every one of you were carried from the underground lab, you tried to take in the state of everyone else. They were your patients. You had to make sure they were alright. However, the medical droid kept you down on the stretcher.

You only stopped trying to get up when you were outside and General Kenobi checked up on you while Skywalker was with Padme.

“Seems almost everyone made it out alive.” Obi-wan grinned as he complimented you, “Your skills are priceless Doctor. I’m not sure what we would have done without you.” He walked beside your stretcher as you were being loaded up into the LAAT to return to the venator, “Keep this up and I may steal you for my battalion. I’m sure the 212th can use your talents.” 

“Not a chance,” Anakin approached, putting a hand on your shoulder, “You saved them, Doctor. Thank you. Everyone will make a full recovery, all because of you.” 

You smiled despite the tiredness that was buried deep in your bones, “Happy to help, General.” you croaked, “I’m just glad the plan worked.” 

“Me too.” The brown-haired Jedi responded, “Padme could have…I mean, Ahsoka, Rex and Senator Amidala would have been lost without you.” His blue eyes weren’t looking at you, but at the senator loaded somewhere else on the LAAT.

Ah. Now it makes sense…

You reached up and put your hand on his, once he looked down, you spoke, “Don’t worry General. I made sure Senator Amidala and the others were safe.” You winked.

I know. And I won’t tell a soul.

He gave you a relieved smile.