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softspiderling · 1 month

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est-ce que tu m’aimes? | j.v

summary:

“I am sorry, I-“ you pulled the door open, but to your surprise, you came face to face with the source of your sorrows.

“Jace,” you spoke, voice even, crossing your arms over your chest. “Have you come to throw some more insults? Maybe some at me this time?”

Jace clenched his jaw, his hand on the goddamned sword again. Was he itching to take your head off so badly?

OR; Jace’s reaction truly confuses you, you settle in at Dragonstone and a surprising addition to the team makes themselves known.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader, platonic!daeron targaryen x reader

warnings: Jace being a little mean (we all know he’s capable of it)

word count: 5,6k

author’s note: yoooo pt. 2 is finally here!! i hope you love it sm!!! pls don’t forget to reblog/leave comments etc if you liked it!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I cannot believe you would let her waltz into our home like that! She’s putting all of us in danger!”

In less than two days, you were sat outside a study as a heated argument about you took place behind closed doors. It was merely a coincidence that it was within the same family.

After Jace had stormed into the council room, meeting you with open hostility, Rhaenerya had asked you to give them some privacy. You had barely left the room before Jace had started spitting ill words about you.

“She saved me, Jace!”

“What if this is some plot for her to put herself in our midst and feed information back to King’s Landing?”

“Was she not residing in Oldtown with Daeron ever since we left for Dragonstone? It is doubtful she has been let in on the plans to usurp the throne.”

Jace let out a frustrated groan and it was silent for a few moments before Rhaenyra spoke again.

“It seems to me you have a different issue with her… Is it because you have feelings for her?”

Your breath stocked in your throat, your hand stilling against the door. Jace’s behavior towards you confused you deeply. It seemed like he harbored resentment, but you weren’t sure when it had started, when you had suddenly become a traitor in his eyes, instead of a friend.

“Don’t be ridiculous, mother.”

The way Jace scoffed hurt you more than ten daggers in your back, and you pressed your lips together, refusing to let the words of a man affect you.

“I only wish to protect you.”

Swallowing thickly, your hands balled into fists and you jumped back when the door suddenly opened, a knight gesturing for you to step in.

Hesitantly, you entered the room, the tensions still high and you looked at Jace, but he refused to meet your eyes, turning his head away.

Rhaenyra on the other hand stepped up you, taking your hand in hers, cradling it gently.

“I will never be able to repay the debt,” she said in a soft voice, her eyes warm. “You saved my son, even though you weren’t obligated to do it. For that, I will offer you a place here, at Dragonstone, and a place in my council, if you wish to take it.”

“Mother!-“

Rhaenyra ignored Jace’s protest, her voice unwavering. “I believe your insight into our enemies will give us an advantage to win this war.”

“I do not wish to cause a drift between you,” you said honestly. “If Jace does not wish for me to stay-“

“It is not his place,” Rhaenyra said and Jace only scoffed. You fought the urge to glare at him, you didn’t want to antagonize him even further.

“Thank you, your Grace,” you said, lowering your head. “I would very much like to stay.”

Frankly, you wouldn’t know where to go, had Rhaenyra not offered for you to stay, you weren’t sure what expected you, would you return to King’s Landing; it surely wouldn’t go over well.

“And the seat on the council?”

You pressed your lips together. It was an honor, an offer like that, but you could tell Jace wanted you to say no with the way he was looking at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

“May I think about it?”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra said, squeezing your hand. “Ser Lorent, escort the Lady to her chambers. I think the ones in the West Wing will be fitting.”

Ser Lorent bowed, before gesturing his arm out to you. “My Lady, if you please follow me.”

You bowed your head to Rhaenyra, turning to leave, but just before you stepped over the threshold of the room, you glanced back. Luke gave you a small smile, but Jace had turned his back to you again. You tried not to let it go to your head, but your mind was racing with questions after Ser Lorent had dropped you off in your chambers.

The sun was shining through the windows when you awoke the next day. You had chosen to take supper in your chambers the night before, trying to give Jace some space. There had been no maid to wake you, so it must still be early. A loud clang of swords floated up from outside and you wrapped a robe around your shoulders as you got out of the bed, glancing out the window.

It turned out that your chambers laid directly above the training grounds, where Jace and Luke were currently in the middle of training. It was nice to see Jace without a scowl on his face for a change, and you took the opportunity to look at him.

He had grown into a very fine Prince, his hair long, curling around his face, his cheekbones high. You had always known he’d grow up to be very handsome. It was hard to imagine he’s the same boy who had told you to write to him every day.

Now, he hadn’t spoken to you a single word after his agitated discussion with his mother.

“Lift your sword up higher when you are in offense, but when someone is advancing on you, make sure to defend the lower part of yourself as well.”

Luke sighed, dropping the point of his sword on the ground, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his tunic. “We have been training since the sun has risen, can we go break fast now?”

“No, you need this.”

“What am I to do with a sword when Aemond descends upon me with Vhagar? Slash at her wings?” Luke scoffed. “I’m not lacking in swordsmanship.”

You pressed yourself against the window as Jace laid a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, lending him comfort similar in a way you have done with Daeron.

“It will not happen again, Luke. I will make sure Aemond will not get the chance to get near you again.”

Jace let out a breath, his face pained, you could even see it from a distance.

“It was foolish of me to suggest we go deliver the messages,” Jace sighed. “I should’ve gone with you, you had no protection. I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to you.”

“Jace…” Luke looked at his brother, his forehead creased. “It wasn’t your fault. Our uncle behaved himself with no honor.”

“I should have expected that.” Jace smiled at him wryly. “You were lucky to escape Vhagar when you did.”

“I wasn’t lucky, I had help.”

Jace let out a loud sigh, giving Luke a squeeze on the shoulder.

“Let us go break fast, then.”

“Oh so now you want to end training,” Luke nagged, resheating his sword. “Because I mentioned Lady-“

“Do not speak her name to me,” Jace snapped, stopping Luke in the middle of his sentence.

Luke only sighed at his older brother.

“Jace… None of this is her doing. You cannot-“

A knock on your door quickly made you push away from the window, your cheeks red, almost having been caught eavesdropping.

The two young women standing in front of your chambers gave you a friendly smile, their hair - already twisted in intricate fashion despite the early hour - immediately told you of their parentage.

“You must be Baela and Rhaena.”

One of them, you assumed Baela, as she was wearing riding gear and last you had heard, Rhaena had yet to claim a dragon, inclined her head in yes. You gave them a smile.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I’m-“

“Oh we have heard all about you.”

Rhaena gave Baela a jab in the side, glaring at her sister and even though Baela had fallen into your word, it did not seem like she had done it in chargrin, as she had a friendly look on her face.

“We were about to break fast. Her Grace asked us to extend the invitation to you,” Rhaena said and you nodded.

“Thank you. Let me get dressed and I will meet you in the dining hall.”

After getting dressed and making yourself presentable, you made your way to the dining hall. Well, you tried, at least. The keep was much bigger than you had anticipated. Finally you rounded the corner, thinking you had reached the dining hall, but instead you were standing in a hallway that split into three more hallways.

“I could have sworn this was the way to the dining hall,” you muttered to yourself, looking around in confusion, when someone called your name.

“… Are you lost?”

Luke stepped out of his chambers, lingering in the doorway. He must have gotten changed after training in the pit, his doublet a little askew as he walked towards you.

“I was exploring the keep.”

Luke gave you a suspicious look, a grin growing on his face.

“How long have you been wandering around?”

“Why do you assume I wasn’t waiting for you to walk me to the dining hall?”

Luke laughed, offering you his arm, which you accepted gratefully as the two of you walked together. You found it was easy to converse with Luke, he was telling you about Arrax and how he has been faring ever since you got back, and that he wished for some more meat instead of fish. His cheeky grin reminded you a lot of Daeron when he was pulling one of his jests on his uncle. It was nice, to have something to remind you of home in a place that felt so unfamiliar.

“And here we are, at the dining hall,” Luke announced as you stepped into a completely different hallway, the large doors to the dining hall open.

“I never would have found my own way here,” you admitted and Luke laughed.

“I know.”

Judging by the sound of easy conversation coming out of the hall, you were the last to arrive. You were hesitant, unwilling to cause any tension but Luke tugged on your arm, sensing your discomfort.

“Come. You shall sit with me.”

You relented, following the young boy inside. The conversation at the table ceased as you entered, everyone bidding you a good morrow. Well, almost everyone.

“Have you slept well?” Rhaenyra asked as you sat down next to Luke. You nodded, giving her a smile.

“Yes, thank you. I am very grateful that you have offered for me to stay. And for the clothes, of course.“

Next to Rhaenyra, her lord husband Daemon only gave you a subdued smirk.

“It appears we are the ones who have to offer our thanks,” he said, his fingers circling the brim of his cup. “You acted when it was easier to do nothing. You showed true courage.”

“Please,” you said, nearly melting into your seat out of embarrassment. “I did what was right.”

You ignored how Jace visibly rolled his eyes, turning his head as he took a sip from his cup. He seemed incredibly displeased by this all.

“You should have seen her,” Luke said, nodding fervently. “She leapt from Vhagar to Arrax just above the clouds like it was a small jump over a beck.”

“That sounds terrifying,” Rhaena said and you nodded.

“It was. I truly do not know what came over me in that instant.”

“Sometimes we don’t know how brave we are until the moment asks for it,” Rhaenyra said with an encouraging smile and you nodded, your cheeks red. Thankfully this scene of praising you was interrupted by the servants starting to serve food.

“You have been living most of your recent name days in Oldtown, is that right?” Baela asked curiously, leaning towards you.

“Yes, Alicent sent Daeron to Oldtown and asked me to accompany him to make the distance from home easier.”

You have always thought it cruel of Alicent to send Daeron away from his family, his siblings. But now you wondered if Daeron was better off for it.

“It was really different from King’s Landing. The grandmaesters were incredibly wise and I have learned a lot from the them,” you told her, a smile on your face. “Daeron of course always dragged his feet, but I knew he enjoyed it as well.”

“How old is Daeron now?” Luke asked, swallowing his food.

“Eight and ten,” you answered. “Not quite a man just yet, even if he believes otherwise.”

The family laughed, and even Jacaerys cracked a smile, though it seemed more unkind than the rest.

“That seems to be running on his side of the family, no?” he asked, taking a sip from his cup. His voice was so cutting, and the light mood seemed to dissipate at once. “Aegon, Aemond, none of them display characteristics of a what a real man is… I wonder if Daeron turned out any better than his usurping and kinslaying brothers, though I-“

Before Jace could continue, you slammed both of your hands on the table as you stood, the tableware clattering. The table grew quiet, the tension thick as everyone laid their eyes on you, but you paid them no mind, your focus on Jace as you glared at him, and he seemed surprised at your outburst.

“Please excuse me,” you pressed out, eyes gleaming with anger. You barely waited for Rhaenyra to excuse you as you left the table, your food still untouched on your place.

As you hasten out of the dining room, you could hear Rhaenyra raising her voice.

“-unacceptable behavior!”

“Why are you all rushing to her defense? Or Daeron’s? She’s just being sensitive!”

“I have lived with you about as long as she has with Daeron,” Rhaena argued. “Would you not come to my defense if someone spoke ill about me?”

You didn’t wait to hear Jace’s answer rushing past the Queensguard that was standing by the door. By some miracle, you easily found your way back to your chambers, the heavy door falling shut as you threw yourself on the bed, letting out a scream of frustration.

You were at a loss.

Jace seemed to use every opportunity to antagonize you, treating you like an enemy instead of a friend he had grown up with. You were no damsel in distress who couldn’t handle tough words, but it was to hard to hear them from someone you harbored feelings for.

You wished you could talk to someone about this. You wished you could talk to Daeron about this. A part of you longed for the days when you were in Oldtown, before any of this occurred.

A knock brought you out of your thoughts and you lifted your head from the cushions, frowning.

“I wish to be alone for a little longer,” you called out. It was probably a handmaiden Rhaenyra had sent to check up on you. You hoped she would respect your wishes, but the knocking didn’t cease and with a small sigh, you pulled yourself up, heading to the door.

“I am sorry, I-“ you pulled the door open, but to your surprise, you came face to face with the source of your sorrows.

“Jace,” you spoke, voice even, crossing your arms over your chest. “Have you come to throw some more insults? Maybe some at me this time?”

Jace clenched his jaw, his hand on the goddamned sword again. Was he itching to take your head off so badly?

“I have been told that my behavior this morning was unbefitting for a Prince,” he ground out, the words like gravel in his mouth. “I’m here to extend an apology.”

You bit back a scoff, rolling your eyes. “Fine. Go ahead, then.”

He guffawed at your words.

“If you are going to be like this, I am not sure it makes much sense for me to apologize,” Jace said haughtily and you snorted.

“If I were to believe that a single word of your apology were genuine, I would readily accept it.”

Jace only scoffed, shaking his head but not denying your accusation. His nostrils were flared and you searched for his eyes, but he refused to meet your gaze. Exhaling softly, trying to let go of your anger, you uncrossed your arms, letting them fall to your sides.

“Why are you so angry?”

Suddenly, Jace’s eyes snapped up to yours, his lips parted in disbelief.

“My mother’s claim to the throne has been stolen by her usurper brother, my uncle! Whereas my other uncle tried to murder Luke, and you ask why I’m angry?”

You let out a small sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Forgive me, I should have been more clear. Let me rephrase,” you said. “Why are you angry with me?”

Jace took a step back, surprised by your question.

“You treat me like I myself have usurped the throne, Jace.”

You looked at Jace expectantly; his mouth opening, like he wanted to say something, before he closed it again, his words unspoken. Before you could demand an answer, hurried steps came down the hallway, Ser Lorent appearing, stopping next to your chambers. Jace seemed relieved at the distraction as the knight inclined his head at him.

“My Prince, the Queen has requested your presence for the council meeting.”

Jace nodded, giving you one last glance before stepping towards Ser Lorent, expecting him to leave right away, but Ser Lorent turned his eyes on you.

“You as well, my Lady.”

Jace let out a scoff and turned on his heel without waiting.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath as he stalked away. You sighed, glancing at Ser Lorent but he only extended his hand in silent invitation, leaving you no choice but to go with him.

The painted table in the council room was already fully seated, save for one empty space, two seats down from Jace. Most of the council consisted of lords of various houses, who eyed you sceptically as you took your seat next to Baela.

“What is a girl like her doing at a council meeting?” The Lord sat across from you asked, clear disdain on his face. You only stared back at him, not knowing how to answer yourself, but disliking his tone towards you only for the fact that you were not a man.

“This girl,” Jace replied, and you already resigned to another slight at you, “Has saved my brother up thousand feet on the air with no training. What have you achieved for my mother, Lord Bartimos?”

Lord Bartimos only let out an aggrieved sigh as he leaned back in his seat, while you turned to Jace with a surprised look on your face. He didn’t meet your eyes. Luke on the other hand, was ducking his head to hide a grin, failing miserably.

“She can offer us insights into the plan of the usurpers,” Rhaenyra said, effectively stopping any more arguments. “I hope we can avoid any bloodshed.”

“Avoid?” Daemon asked, leaning forward with a crease in his forehead. “They blatantly attacked a messenger after you wished for some time to think about their offer.”

“Daemon is right.”

Jace’s voice was strong as he agreed with Daemon, his shoulders tight.

“This is not the time to sit back and watch their plans unfold. We have come too close to unimaginable tragedy.”

Jace’s eyes flickered to his younger brother, before he turned to look to his mother. “We need to fight back.”

Rhaenyra opened her mouth, seemingly to disagree with her eldest son, but a commotion outside caught everyone’s attention.

“Dragon!”

“It’s a dragon with a rider!”

Everyone at the table looked at each other, unsure of what was happening when a knight from the watch outside came storming into the room.

“Your Grace!” he called, bowing quickly. “There has been a dragon sighted with a rider, he’s headed straight for Dragonstone.”

Rhaenyra’s forehead creased in concern.

“Do we know who it is?”

“No, your Grace.”

Rhaenyra stood, her strides quick as she walked outside, the rest of you were not too far behind her. Outside, the folks were rushing in, trying to get to safety from an imminent attack from the dragon.

“I will mount Moondancer,” Baela said, already turning on her heel but Rhaenyra stopped her, shaking her head.

“No. We do not know his intention yet, another dragon might provoke him into attacking.”

You lifted your eyes to the sky, sight blinded by the sun for the first few moments. The dragon’s movements seemed familiar to you, and as your vision adjusted, you let out a laughter, relief coursing through you.

“That’s Tessarion!” you exlaimed, turning to Rhaenyra with a smile. “It’s Daeron!”

You broke out in a run, skirt of your dress lifted as you skidded down the stoney hill, ignoring how Jacaerys was yelling after you to wait.

Tessarion landed on the green grass, stretching her orange-blue wings, as Daeron slid off his saddle, feet on solid ground again. He oriented himself looking around, before relief took over his face when he saw you.

“Sister!”

“Daeron!”

You fell around his arms like countless times before and he held you so tightly, you were afraid he’d never let you go.

“You promised,” he whispered into your neck in a choked voice. “You promised you wouldn’t abandon me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” you mumbled, squeezing Daeron. You didn’t let go of him until his hold on you lessened, knowing he needed to realize that you were, and not gone. Pushing his hair out of his face, you gave him a watery smile.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Brother.”

Rhaenyra’s voice brought you back to reality, as the both of you stood straight, Rhaenyra’s face null of emotion. Jace was furious, his eyes flitting between you and Daeron continuously, while Daemon stood behind Rhaenyra.

“Are you here to deliver a message from the false King that is your brother?”

“I am not a messenger,” Daeron said, his voiced heated. “And as I recall he’s your brother as well.”

His tone is starting to border on disrespect so you glanced over to him, your eyebrows creased. Daeron let out a small sigh.

“I hold no loyalty to my brother,” he added, his voice softer. “Nor am I here to deliver any messages.”

“Then what is your purpose of being here?”

“I’m here because she is,” Daeron answered simply, squeezing your hand. “She has been more kin to me than either Aegon or Aemond. I want to stay on Dragonstone, if you allow it. Fight alongside you.”

“Are we offering shelter for anyone who comes here now?”

Jace’s voice was directed at Rhaenyra, but Daeron narrowed his eyes at him.

“What happened to him?” he muttered to you under his breath. “I do not recall him being this miserable.”

“Daeron!” you hissed, the corners of your mouth tugging up anyways. Jace scoffed, taking a step forward, only to be stopped by Rhaenyra.

“If you are willing to trust me, you have to trust Daeron,” you said, looking at Rhaenyra. You understood that she was wary, she and Daeron barely spent any time together, he was a stranger to her. But you hoped that her trust in you was only half as strong as your trust in Daeron. “If anything, it adds another dragon on your side.”

Rhaenyra regarded you with a impressed smile, giving a small nod.

“Very well. You might stay, Daeron,” she said; behind her, Jacaerys and Daemon exchanged a look, neither of them happy about her decision. “However, I wish to speak with you, alone.”

Daeron nodded, and you squeezed his hand as you followed Rhaenyra back inside the keep, trying not to let Jace’s piercing eyes on you bother you.

“I think it odd. Seeing Rhaenyra again after all this time. My sister.”

You were sitting out in the grass, Daeron’s head in your lap as he talked. He had spent the last two hours in the council room speaking to Rhaenyra. You weren’t sure what exactly they had talked about, but when they both came out, they seemed calm, almost peaceful. You didn’t pry, knowing that Daeron would share whatever he felt comfortable with.

“Does she feel like kin to you?” you asked, knowing how distant Rhaenyra was to Alicent’s children, even when they were younger.

Daeron shrugged, ripping up a blade of grass with his hand.

“She was polite enough. She knows what advantage she has having me on her side. I cannot see us become closer,” he said. “Like us.”

Daeron peered up at you with a grin and you rolled your eyes. Something was still nagging at you, and you knew it wouldn’t leave your head until you had answers

“What happened when Aemond got back? How did you know I was here?”

Daeron’s smile dimmed a little and he looked away, his eyes focusing on the blue sky above you.

“I was already searching for you by the time Aemond returned. I could tell by the look on his face that something had happened, so he told me that he had been out in Storm’s End to secure pledges for Aegon, and that you had come with. Luke had arrived just shortly after Aemond had negotiated with Lord Borros and he got angry, starting a fight, bringing up what had happened at Driftmark.”

Your brows furrowed. You had suspected that Aemond wouldn’t tell the truth, but blaming Lucerys for his bad temper? Anything to paint you as the villain.

“Aemond said you took Luke’s side, your feelings for Jace swaying you.”

Your cheeks reddened. You hadn’t realized that your affections for Jace were so apparent that Aemond would take notice. Daeron continued, unperturbed.

“- and that was when Aemond returned to King’s Landing.”

“That’s not-“

Before you could finish, Daeron interrupted you, his eyes finding yours again.

“I know, Rhaenyra told me what truly happened.”

“But did you really believe what Aemond had told you? That I would just go with Luke because of an argument, leave you?”

Daeron shrugged with his shoulders, his eyes downcast.

“I did not want to. But what was I supposed to do? Call Aemond a liar? I don’t think that would have gone well,” he argued. “I did not have choice but to accept his truth as mine.”

“Then why did you come here if you thought me a traitor?”

Stilling, Daeron pressed his lips together.

“Helaena… She was behaving peculiar… I was sitting with her in the day room, watching Jahaerys and Jahaera play, and all she kept saying was “To save her brother, you must trust your sister” while looking between me and Jahaera,” he told you and you frowned.

To save her brother, you must trust your sister?

“What does that mean?”

“I am not quite sure,” Daeron said, shaking his head. “But I knew it must mean that Aemond was not telling the truth, that you had left because of something else.”

You bit back a smile; it amused you how Daeron did not hesitate to think of you when someone mentioned his sister, but hummed in thought, unsatisfied with his words.

“What if she did not mean me? What if she was talking about Rhaenyra?”

The sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel leading up to the small cliff made the two of you paused. You both looked up just to see Jace arrive to the top, stopping at the edge of the field stiffly. Daeron propped himself up on his elbows, glancing to you, then back to Jace slowly before he got to his feet, dusting off his clothes.

“I should go to the dragon mount. See how Tessarion is faring.”

You knew exactly what he was trying to do and you shook your head quickly, pulling yourself up.

“Daeron…!” you almost shouted, but the young Prince already departed. As he passed Jace, the older gave him an almost imperceptible nod, before Daeron disappeared down the hill. You let out a small frustrated huff, your eyes flickering to Jace before you turned away again. His steps were careful as he came closer, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, not looking at him as he came to a stop next to you.

You were the first to speak.

“I am surprised you didn’t call Daeron a traitor as he passed you.”

In hindsight, you could have chosen less biting words. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jace clench his jaw.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I am not!” Jace sighed. “I did not come to argue with you.”

“Then what have you come for?”

Jace fell silent again and you shook your head in exasperation. It was hard for you to read him; he seemingly had made it a habit to guard his emotions. When Jace finally spoke again, his words surprised you.

“I always envied him.”

“What?”

“Daeron,” he clarified. “When you wrote to me that you were to be sent to Oldtown with Daeron, I was furious. I begged mother to let you come with us, but she said it would be seen as disrespectful towards Alicent. She wanted to avoid a fight.” Jace scoffed, shaking his head. “The irony does not escape me.”

He paused, his gaze on the horizon. Two dragons had made their way out of the dragon mount, flying in the sky, stretching their wings. One, you were able to recognize as Vermax, with his orange green scales. He had grown exponentially since the last time you saw him. The other dragon was unfamiliar to you, but the dragons seemed to have a bond as they flew around each other playfully. You took your eyes off of the dragons to look at Jace. He was already looking at you, his cheeks pink.

“I looked forward to your letters every day,” Jace admitted, ducking his head. “… It eased my longing, if only slightly.”

Your lips pursed into a pleased smile.

“You longed for me?” you teased.

“Did you not long for me?” he asked quite bluntly, his eyes searching yours. “Or was what you had enough for you?”

Letting out a small huff, you shook your head, knowing what he was insinuating; the same thing that Aemond had hinted at only a few days prior.

“Daeron and I are like brother and sister, I do not long for him in any way than you do for Luke.”

Jace nodded, his smile delighted. But you let out a sigh, wringing your hands.

“If you truly felt like this… Why have you treated me so horribly ever since I’ve been here? Why have you stopped replying to my letters?”

“It’s not…” Jace trailed off, pulling his face into a frown. “After we received the news of my grandsire’s passing, mother has been on edge, preparing for war. We all have. And I felt guilty, I didn’t want to be distracted by anything, and whenever one of your letters arrived, I couldn’t get my mind on anything else than sitting down to write back to you. So I just… Stopped answering. And I thought I could write to you when all of this is over, but then you were suddenly… Here.”

Jace broke off, pressing his lips together. “You were supposed to stay in Oldtown, far away from the war that is brewing. Now you quite literally launched yourself right into the middle of it all. I thought it incredulous that you would just show up and save my brother… Like in a dream.”

Your chest ached. You had not realized how worried Jace was for you.

“But you thought I was spying for information,” you reminded him.

“I didn’t really believe you would be capable of doing so… But I couldn’t let my feelings cloud my judgement. Mother counts on me, and as her heir, I have to fulfill my duties.”

Biting your lip, you nodded, your chin low. While you understood why Jace had been behaving the way he was, it still hurt to be treated that way.

“I dislike causing you anguish,” he said quietly. “Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?”

“The way to forgiveness may not be easy,” you warned him, a small smile on your face. “I am not known for being very forgiving.”

“Then it will be so much more rewarding,” Jace quipped, smiling at you.

The both of you fell into a comfortable silence, staring out in the distance, the dragons dancing in the sky. You almost flinched when you felt Jace hesitantly reach for your hand; it was the first time he let go of the hilt of his sword since you got to Dragonstone. Swallowing nervously, you laced your fingers with his, feeling the tension bleed away from his limbs. For a while, you just stood there, hand in hand, lending each other comfort in the silence. A silence Jace soon broke.

“Do you want to go for a ride on Vermax?”

Your eyes lit up at the sudden invitation, but you held your excitement at bay, not wanting to seem too eager. Seeing Jace’s face however, it told you that you better work on masking your emotions. While the imminent war brewing in the near future scares you, you didn’t want to forego small moments of happiness, you were sure the war held plenty of misery and frustration. You would enjoy every single smile you could shed.

“I’d love to.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: before you ask, i’m not planning on writing another part! maybe a few drabbles in the future! 🫶🏼

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jace x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon fic

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mysicklove · 10 months

Text

summary: Yuuji finds himself sick, and it gives him a perfect opportunity to spend time with his older brother.

wc: 1.8k

a/n: its back friends. all i think about is them.

big brother au masterlist

Yuuji lets out a mucus-filled cough and Sukuna cringes. The toddler turns to him and sniffles with a frown on his face. The elder, in return, rolls his eyes but readjusts the cool rag on his brother's forehead. "Don't look at me like that. Whose fault is this? If you do stupid things, you have to pay the consequences, little pest."

The boy doesn't move; instead, he just stubbornly shakes his head. "W-Wanted to play!"

"In the rain? Without any warm clothes? You truly are an idiot," Sukuna scolds, grabbing Yuuji's water bottle from the nightstand and forcing it into the little boy's mouth.

Yuuji developed a fever this morning after sneaking out into the backyard last night to play in the rain puddles. Now he was stuck in bed, which was hard for the toddler who was always on the go and harder for Sukuna, who has to pretend that he isn't worried sick.

You walk into the boy's room, and Yuuji immediately looks towards you. He tears the sippy cup from his mouth and lets out a high-pitched whine, already beginning to reach his arms toward you. He knows youll coddle him, unlike his brother, and the exhausted boy was craving attention. When you make it over the bed, he reaches his hands upward to you and pleads, "Up! Up!"

You frown at the boy, already reaching down to scoop him up, but Sukuna quickly intervenes, gently slapping your hand away. "No. He might get you sick too. Brat, you stay in bed."

The toddler opens his mouth to protest, but another cough cuts him off. Then, with watery eyes, he turns to Sukuna and nods. "Yes, b-brother."

You coo at the boy, using your palm to cup his warm cheek and thumb at the soft skin. Yuuji rests his entire head on the touch, and you frown. "Poor baby," You sigh, and Yuuji, ever the one to love being doted on, nods pitifully, adding an extra sniffle for effect. Sukuna almost rolls his eyes at the action.

"Why don't you coddle me like that when I am sick?" Sukuna complains before reaching over and pulling the blanket higher up Yuuji's chest. The boy mumbles out a thank you, but the elder ignores him.

"You whine too much, act like you are dying. Yuuji isn't being dramatic, huh Yuuji?" The boy nods, gripping your arm and rubbing his face into your hand.

"No," he mumbles, "Not being dramatic!" He lets out a loud whine, and Sukuna already knows what's coming. "Feel so bad. Hurts!"

The boy seems to curl around your arm, and Sukuna sighs. "Yeah. Not dramatic at all." The kid sounds exactly like Sukuna when he is sick. Just minutes before, he proclaimed to Sukuna that he wanted to play again, even if he was still immensely ill. He just wanted attention, and it was obvious to everyone but you.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Yuuji. I brought you some medicine that will make you feel better." The boy's face drops at the word, and he hesitantly lets go of your arm. Sukuna barks a laugh at Yuuji's now twisted face.

The toddler shakes his head gently, too tired to show his real disapproval. "N-No! No medicine!" It always tasted horrible to the toddler, and he knows that if he whines enough, he may be able to get his way.

Sukuna sighs, holding out his hand to you, and you drop the bottle into it. Then, he pours a copious amount of the pink strawberry-flavored liquid, made specifically for children, into the small measuring cup.

Yuuji starts to scoot backward on the bed, trying to create some distance between the two. The elder does not let him go far – he grabs Yuuji's hand and places the small cup into it. "Now drink it, or I'm forcing it down your throat."

The boy gulps, glancing at you, who gives him an encouraging nod. Then he places it to his lips but pauses. "Go on," Sukuna demands.

"I want a treat after!"

Sukunas barks a malicious laugh, and you raise your eyebrows at the boy. You have never heard him try to negotiate before. "Bullshit. Your "treat" is not to be stuck in bed, weakling."

You narrow your eyes at him when you hear the curse word, but Sukuna shrugs it off. Yuuji, on the other hand, eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "Bad word!" He then turns to you in confirmation, pointing at his brother. "He said a bad word!"

You nod your head at him, trying to hide a smile. You were glad that your lessons of not saying curse words stuck with the boy, even with his brother's foul mouth. "Yes, he did. Sukuna, now you definitely owe him a treat afterward."

Sukuna glares at you, but you are used to it, so you instead just flash him a grin. You have told him a multitude of times how you feel about him saying curse words in front of the kid. You didn't want him to grow up so similarly to Sukuna; as much as you love the man, his dirty mouth is not something you hope Yuuji will inherit.

Sukuna turns his attention back to his brother. "You little–"

"Please, Kuna?" Yuuji pleads, letting out another cough that makes him nervous. He rubs at his temple.

"Fine. Whatever. Just drink it, you manipulative brat." Yuujis eyes lighten up, and he brings the artificially smelling liquid to his mouth, cringing but drinking the entire thing. When he pulls away, his face is contorted in disgust, and he looks toward you. You run your fingers through his hair and praise the small boy, grabbing the small cup from his hands.

Sukuna curtly nods his head. "Good. Well, sorry to burst your bubble, brat, but we are out of chocolate. No treat for you," He fake pouts at the boy, but Yuuji, in turn, just shakes his head with a small smile.

"Not what I want."

Sukuna raises his eyebrow, thinking for a second, before sighing. "We are out of popsicles too."

"Not that either!" Yuuji shakes his head with this one, and you cock your head to the side in confusion.

Sukuna borderline growls at the boy. "We are not watching Human Earthworm 2. Last time you nearly pissed yourself from how afraid you were." You laugh at the memory, remembering how much Yuuji pleaded to watch it for days, only to have it be turned off twenty minutes into the movie. The poor boy would make Sukuna walk him to the bathroom at night because he was so afraid of being alone in the dark.

Yuuji pouts at him, and another small cough it let out. You grab him some more water, and the boy mumbles a thank you before turning back to his brother. "I wasn't scared! And no, not that either!"

Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to lose his temper. "What do you want then?"

The smile on Yuuji's face returns, even with the pinkened cheeks and the little bits of sweat on his temples. "Want Kuna to cuddle me!"

Your eyes widen, and you can't stop the laugh that leaves your mouth. Sukuna, on the other hand, goes silent for a long moment. "Not happening. Pick something else."

Yuuji whines out, shaking his head stubbornly. "Nooooo. You said I get a treat!"

"You are going to get me sick."

The boy sniffles at him, shaking his head. "Th-Thought brother was the strongest…"

This makes you grin, knowing your lover's ego well. And just like you thought, Sukuna lets out a dramatically large sigh. "Fucking–Fine. Whatever. Scoot over." You and Yuuji both let the curse word slide, being shocked at him actually agreeing.

Yuuji slides over, and Sukuna forces his way under the blankets beside the boy. You sit and watch as Yuuji basically scampers up Sukuna's chest until his head is placed in the elder's neck and his entire body is on top of the man. "Okay, really?" Sukuna grumbles, and you chuckle at him. "Are you some sort of spider monkey now?"

The boy hums in agreement, pressing himself impossibly closer to his brother. You take this time to stand up from the bed, having no room to fit you both. Sukuna watches you begin to leave and frowns at you. "Where are you going?"

This was a perfect time to give them some bonding time. So you shrug, "I'll be right back."

"You better be," Sukuna grumbles and Yuuji coincidentally sneezes into his neck. The man's whole body jerks, and he cringes. "Hey! None of that, that's disgusting!"

Yuuji whimpers, wrapping his arms tighter around his brother as if he was afraid to leave. Then he whispers an apology, and Sukuna rolls his eyes again.

You grab the door to the handle and step outside. "Well, have fun you two. Yuuji, feel better!"

Yuujis cranes his neck to look at you and waves back to you with a small smile, content in his position. Sukuna, on the other hand, glares at you. "Dont you dare leave me here with this brat."

You huff a laugh, ignoring him and already planning what movie you will watch by yourself. "Love you!"

"Hey!" He yells when you shut the door on him.

And, of course, luck is not always on Sukuna's side. When you come to check on them two hours later, you find them both passed out – Yuuji practically smothers Sukuna with his tiny body, drooling on the elder's face. You leave them like that, not thinking much of it.

But three days go by, and somehow Sukuna finds himself stuck in bed with a fever. He never dared to mention that Yuuji probably got him sick, his pride getting the better of him.

You and the kid walk into your shared bedroom, Yuuji with a massive smile, finally feeling better, and you with a content grin. Sukuna slowly peers over to the door and groans out loud and dramatic.

"Dont worry, Kuna! Dr. Yuuji is here to take care of you!" He cheers, grabbing his toy stethoscope and shuffling over to the bed. He manages to climb onto the bed with his brother without much trouble, and you follow him, sitting on the bed next to your lover. Like you did with Yuuji, you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him.

Sukuna peers at you, eyes slightly lighting up and a familiar grin pulling at his face. You already know something inappropriate is about to leave his mouth.

"I would feel so much better if you were in a nurse costume right now." But before you could try to reply, Yuuji shuts him up by shoving a toy thermometer into his mouth.

#mello.writes #big brother au #sukuna x reader #kid yuuji #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #yuuji fluff #yuuji tadori fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #reader insert #x reader #gn reader #gn! reader

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ithebookhoarder · 5 months

Text

Special Delivery (Spencer Reid x F!Reader)

Description: Something's different about Reid and no-one knows what. However, a surprise delivery to the BAU may just have the answer...

Warnings: Food references, mentions of mental health, mentions of medical procedures, references to smutty behaviour, Spencer being adorable

Masterlist

“Ok. Am I the only one who’s noticed something’s different with Reid lately?” Morgan remarked, watching as the said boy-genuis made his way across the bullpen and over to his desk.

“Yeah,” Emily hummed, watching the young agent over the rim of coffee cup. She had to admit it - as much as it annoyed her - Morgan was right; Spencer has definitely been acting different. If anything, she was surprised it had taken them all this long to say anything.

Normally, they were all over each other the moment they noticed anything even remotely different about each other. Hell, she’d barely taken a step off the elevator, after getting an extra few inches cut off at her latest haircut, before the team were quizzing her about possible life changes and whether or not they needed to be worried about her.

It was a hazard of working with profilers for a living; it was almost impossible to keep anything a secret. No wonder they were all intrigued and slightly confused by the fact that none of them had been able to pinpoint what was going on with their friend.

The most notable difference was the gradual disappearance of the dark circles under his eyes. Reid also seemed happier in general, less quiet and reserved when talking to others, and it was starting to make agents talk.

Morgan and Emily stood up straighter as JJ walked over to join the unofficial gossip session. She took one look at the pair and knew immediately what they were whispering about.

“Are you talking about Reid?”

“Oh yeah,” Morgan grinned, “my money’s on him having finally found someone.”

Emily choked, seemingly as a result of inhaling her coffee at the grand statement. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Miss ‘super spy’. Just look at him,” he teased. “He’s been distracted. He’s all goo-goo eyed and he’s been leaving this place at a normal hour. Like… tell me that doesn’t scream ‘I got a date’.”

“What? It could be loads of things. It doesn’t have to be a date, right JJ?”

“He’s probably just happy. We’ve all been getting more sleep lately and our paperwork is non-existent at the moment,” JJ murmured, reaching past the pair of them to grab for the coffee pot. She was clearly doing her best to try and put this line of questioning to rest. She’d always been the first to protect the younger agent she now saw as a little brother. “Besides, we all know he’s not interested in dating, he hasn’t been since…. Well, you know.”

Morgan groaned. “But what about the secret texts, JJ!” he protested, ignoring the look Emily shot him in return. “He’s been glued to that phone of his and keeps giggling like a school kid. Then there’s the lunches! I know he’s always been organised and likes things a certain way, but damn. His lunches have been like next level - and actually healthy? And I swear he’s had jello like every day.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “You’re basing your profile on jello? Is that it?”

“Well, no I mean… did you not hear the part about the texting and the taking secret calls and the fact he didn’t come out for drinks last night-”

“-Can’t we just be glad for him? Whatever is going on, it’s good for him. Let’s just drop it, ok? He’ll tell us when he’s ready if there’s anything to share.”

“JJ’s right,” Emily echoed. “Reid’s just … happy. End of.”

By the way Morgan frowned it looked like it definitely was not the end of this conversation, but he never got the chance to argue. In fact, he was interrupted as the main doors opened next to them and a rather lost looking receptionist hurried through.

Normally, this wouldn’t have been worth noticing but all three of them spun around at the sound of him calling out the name, “Agent Reid? uh… Is Agent Reid here?”

“Oh, uh, here!” Spencer shouted, soundly vaguely like he was taking roll call. It didn’t help that he shot his arm up in the air too, almost falling off his desk chair as he lurched to his feet and hurried over. “That’s… that’s me - and it’s Dr Reid, but it doesn’t matter. How can I help?”

“Oh, uh, there’s a Y/N at reception for you,” the unfortunate messenger managed, gesturing back the way they’d came. “I told them to wait whilst I came to check with you as they’re not on your visitor list-”

Spencer didn’t even let the poor man finish. He was already racing for the door before the man had even made it to the end of the sentence. Needless to say, the others were quick to follow, with Morgan smugly boasting “told you soooo” as he went.

There was no way on earth they were missing this and considering Hotch and Rossi hadn’t arrived yet it wasn’t like they were about to get their asses handed to them for missing their briefing either.

Despite the amount Spencer had told you about the BAU, you were still surprised by how different the FBI offices were to what you’d imagined.

The offices were larger and the sheer number of people walking about in suits and carrying a side arm made you feel even more nervous, and that was already a problem considering you were stood there wearing neon blue scrubs, embroidered with jungle animals on the pocket.

You were like a walking, flashing sign, screaming ‘outsider - does not work here’. Thankfully, you weren’t going to be there long. You were only swinging by on your way to work, hoping to catch your utterly perfect - and utterly forgetful - boyfriend, before the start of your shift.

Speaking of Spencer, you had only been standing there for possibly five minutes when you saw him barreling through the doors towards you.

“Hey, Spence-“

“Y/N? Honey? What’s going on?” he gushed, hurrying over and taking your face in his hands. You could see his wide eyes frantically scanning every inch of you, looking for some kind of problem or sign that you were not ok. “Is everything alright? What are you doing here?”

You felt your cheeks warm at the sudden display of concern, very much aware of the scene your wonderful boyfriend was making. Spencer wasn’t normally the most affectionate in public, preferring to save those rare moments for when the two of you were alone. The fact he was so worried about what might have brought you to the FBI on a Tuesday morning was touching and made your heart swell.

“I’m fine, Spence. Don’t worry-”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“You forgot something,” you soothed, pulling back and reaching into your satchel. It was impossible to miss the way his face reddened as you pulled out a neatly labeled Dr Who Tupperware by way of explanation. “I’m here because you were in such a rush this morning that you forgot your lunch.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’,” you teased. “I couldn’t exactly let you go hungry so I thought I’d drop it off on my way to work. I don’t start till later as I’m covering Amelia’s shift as she’s visiting her sister in Boston, so I thought I’d swing by.”

Sure, Spencer was an adult and you could have let him just buy something from the cafeteria or order something in for lunch, but considering how much effort he had gone to to cook with you the day before you felt bad letting it go to waste.

He’d been so proud of the way the recipe had turned out, following the instructions and your guidance with extreme precision and care. The result had been a rather tasty looking dish - and it had the added benefit of being healthy too. You were always worried that Spencer seemed to think fast food, like Pizza, was a food group. Then again, he had been forced to be an adult pretty fast and had been in college so young that it wasn’t a surprise that no-one had been there to teach him about cooking and eating right. He had been too focused on his studies to even think about anything else.

It was something he had been working on since you’d got together and now cooking had become one of your favourite date night activities. It didn’t hurt that you often ended up spilling food all over yourselves and needing to shower together - it was just a lovely bonus. In fact, your screensaver was now a picture of you and Spencer, covered in flour, and beaming ear to ear.

“Thank you, that… that’s so nice,” Spencer stammered, “but I feel bad. You didn’t need to go out of your way and bring it to me.”

“As I say, it’s on my way to work. It’s no trouble.”

“Well, still-“

“Hey, pretty boy!”

Spencer froze.

“You gonna introduce us to your friend, or what?”

Spencer opened his mouth but instantly closed it again. You knew by the way he rolled his eyes and began muttering under his breath that whoever had shouted that had definitely been talking to him.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Pretty boy, huh?”

“Don’t ask,” he whined, taking a deep breath as you looked over his shoulder and saw a small group of people now making their way towards you. “I should probably mention that I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with me mentioning you, so I haven’t told anyone about us yet and those idiots are some of my team and I would say ‘run’ but they’re all faster than me.”

“Ah… I see. So I’m guessing that one is Morgan?”

“Yes.”

“Well, no time like the present,” you cheered, turning and waving at the approaching trio. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N - Spencer’s girlfriend.”

“Wow. A girlfriend?” cooed Morgan, reaching over to pull you into a hug before the other two could stop him. To their credit, they looked slightly embarrassed by the display but they were clearly too interested in your identity to care. “And a doctor to boot? Didn’t know he had it in him. I’m Derek Morgan.”

“Oh, I worked that out. It’s good to finally meet you all.”

The others were quick to echo the sentiment, with JJ and Emily quickly introducing themselves in tandem. They were also quick to invite you inside the office for some coffee, but thankfully you weren’t lying when you said you had to get to work.

“You know how it is. People to take care of, medical cases to solve, lives to save - same old, same old. All I’m missing is a snazzy badge and I could be an FBI agent.”

“Ha ha.” Spencer’s smile was genuine as you stole a kiss before making a dash for your car. However, you could see the nerves in his eyes at being left alone to face the great inquisition that now awaited him following the discovery of your existence. You were pretty sure the entire BAU would know about you before it even hit lunchtime. “I’ll see you later, ok?”

“Of course. Just let me know if you’re coming home or if you’re off saving the world in another state - otherwise I can’t promise I won’t eat all the leftovers before you get back.”

He chuckled. “Will do.”

With that, you bid the others goodbye, making sure to agree when they asked (more like insisted) that you came to their family dinner on Friday night at none other than Rossi’s house. The rest of the team were going to be begging to meet you after this, and they were all bringing their families along too.

If Spencer wasn’t comfortable with you going you were pretty sure the team would believe it if you said you’d got called into a last minute surgery, but you’d check later when you both returned to the apartment you now called your home. Either way, you were going to have to make something to take with you, just in case.

As your grandpa had always said, there was no quicker way to someone’s heart than through their stomach. Or, as in Spencer's case, with an unlimited supply of Jello...

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 6 months

Text

I Need You

The TWST Cast's reaction, (under the preamble), when you tell them you're going home (assuming close platonic relationships, and reader having expressed uncertainty of wanting to return home at some point prior to this/has underlying doubts that they would be missed if they did leave) May be a little OOC sorry, and there are inconsistencies but it's not bad, still, sorry

Approx. 7.6k words, but separated by character so feel free to just read the character you want lmao (unless it's Malleus, sorry) ----------------------------------------------------- You had expected to happy. Overjoyed, excited, if and when the headmage finally told you he had found a way for you to return home, now that you had 'seen your use' here in Twisted Wonderland. Of course, he was no monster, and in his abundant generousity allowed you to have your time to say good byes and collect your things before he would send you on your way. He seemed to take your pure shock as a positive thing, ushering you out of his office in glee as he had finally fulfilled his promise he made to you when you first arrived.

There was so much you wanted to say, to protest, but the headmage was adamant and quick, and the words swirled in your head. Had you really just been a tool for him? Had he summoned you in the first place merely to take care of issues he had an inclination would arise? Your feet had never felt more leaded, your heart had never felt so heavy, and breathing had never required this much effort. Why did it hurt so bad? You were going home. But it wasn't the place you had come from that was associated with that word anymore, instead it was Ramshackle, complete with three ghosts and a grey, cat-like creature sitting in front of it, waiting for you to return. You couldn't just leave, could you? At least when you'd been brought here, you hadn't been given a choice, it just... happened. You may not have been happy at first, but it wasn't like there was much waiting for you at home either, nothing you really felt was worth giving up the experiences you had here; good and bad as the memories had come, you had friends and....family here that you wouldn't give up for the world. But the headmage seemed to have his mind set on sending you home.

You hugged yourself, doubt forming nasty storms of thoughts you'd rather not have, wondering whether anyone here would miss you if you left, especially now that everyone's problems were well on their way to being solved. You knew you had contributed, but was this a job or were you friends? It was getting hard to tell. You realized you would rather just tell them you were going home...and if they wanted you around, they'd tell you, right?

You sought out your closest...who you thought was your closest friend, looking for comfort and their opinion, unable to meet their eyes as you quietly told them, "I'm going home."

Heartslaybul

Riddle It seemed so out of the blue. You had come over for tea as per usual, though more pensive than normal, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. Your words hit Riddle like a truck, making him audibly gasp softly. He looked down into his tea, struggling to hold back tears as he ran his thumb over the small hump of the handle on his teacup, his reflection rippling from the tremble in his hands. After some silence and practiced, slow breathing, he spoke, though neither of you made eye contact. "If that is what you want....I support you wholeheartedly...though I must admit...you will be...dearly missed." He tried to hide the shakiness in his voice. You had always been so supportive of him, so eager to ensure he had a place and people to turn to when he needed them, if all you needed was support from him in this moment, he would provide it...even if it hurt him.

You looked up from your tea sadly, only to watch as fat tears rolled down Riddle's cheeks. You struggled to hold back your own tears as you reached across the table and offered your hand to him. He looked up at you at first in surprise, then took your hand and wiped the tears from his face with his other hand, rather hastily before laughing softly, though it sounded pained.

"My apologies...I do not wish to influence your decision in-"

You cut him off squeezing his hand gently as tears began streaming down your face, your voice quiet, but desperate.

"Please...just tell me to stay....or...or go."

You swallowed hard and looked away, unsure of what you would do if the redhead told you it was best if you left.

Teary, stormy grey eyes finally looked towards you, first in confusion, then in fondness and relief as he smiled a bit and tried to inject some authority into his voice.

"My word is law. As of this moment, rule 811 and is as follows." You looked up in confusion and anxiety - there were only 810 rules, and Riddle had made it clear that he never wished to amend them in anyway. His smile only grew softer as his thumb ran over your knuckles gently so as to try and comfort you, though a small laugh bubbled out of him.

"I was going to try and make it all official sounding...but the truth is I need you...so please...if it's my input that will make your decision, I implore you....stay with me."

You couldn't help the smile that bloomed, and the relieved laughter that left you as you wiped at your eyes a bit more as both you and Riddle stood up from the table, the boy opening his arms to you for a hug.

"You scared me there for a moment."

"I scared you? You practically informed me that this would be one of our last times together unless I convinced you to stay! I thought a rule may be more convincing than...just my begging but..." he trailed off, snuggling into you a bit more and holding you a little tighter. "It worked. That's all that matters to me."

Trey

You were sitting at the island in the Heartslaybul kitchen, just watching Trey bake. You told him you had something important to tell him, so he had tilted his head and told you he was listening. However, after telling him that you were headed home, he didn't so much as glance back at you; he had just continued measuring out cups of flour, leaving you feeling rather dejected and hurt.

"Did you hear me?"

Trey glanced over his shoulder a bit, continuing to work. "I did."

You were somewhat baffled that he didn't add anything, watching him in mildly offended disbelief.

"You have nothing to say on the matter?"

"I do. But I don't think you want to hear it." He moved to wash his hands in the sink, his side profile now visible to you, and disturbingly absent of any trace of sadness. If anything, he was wearing a small smirk. Did he really not care if you left? You were disgruntled, allowing a moment of silence between the two of you before you spoke up.

"Well I do want to hear it."

At that, Trey turned and looked at you, his smile only getting a little bigger.

"You're not going home. Your heart's not in it. You're just echoing what you've been told because you think you have to go but you don't. The headmage can't force you to go home, so just say no thank you to him and let it be done with."

You sat in baffled silence for a moment before somewhat timidly asking, "Was it that clear I didn't want to go?"

Trey chuckled softly, returning to his work. "It was clear from the moment you walked in here you weren't happy about whatever you were going to try and tell me. Once I get these baked off, I'll come with you to the headmage. You're not going anywhere unless you want to, I promise."

Cater

You had texted him that you had something you wanted to tell him, but never in a million years did he think you meant you were leaving him.

He thought he had been in this position a million times before - you make a friend, you get their contact information, you fool around and then it's time to leave.

Only you were an actual...friend not an acquaintance. Not to mention, you could have moved to Atlantica and he was sure he could have found a way to keep in touch with you at the very least.

But you were going to leave this world. This pocket of space and time.

Cater rapidly blinked back tears and forced a cheery smile and an uncomfortable sounding laugh as he took your hand in his.

"Ok, haha, funny prank, now where are the cameras? Like, this is a bit, right, something you're gonna post on Magicam to start a trend?...it's a prank, right? Do you need a bigger reaction? I can give you a bigger reaction, we can do this take again, just tell me it's a prank." He bit his lip, fighting back tears as he squeezed both of your hands in his, emerald eyes desperately searching your face for any hint that this was meant to be a joke and nothing more. You knew how much you meant to him, you knew about the pattern he'd been forced to fall into, even if this was a bad joke, it was better than it being the truth.

You had to blink back your own tears, turning your face away from him a bit as a small sob left you and you closed the gap between the two of you in a hug, burying your face into him as you started to cry. He held you close and tightly, afraid that letting you go would mean letting you go forever as he struggled to keep his own emotions in check, sniffling.

"Do you really have to g-go?" He choked up over the word, shallow, panicked breathing not helping his emotions.

You sniffled and looked up at him, tears streaming down both of your faces at this point.

"Please don't go...not if it's making you this upset to leave...and you have a choice...please don't leave me" He begged you softly, waiting with bated breath for your decision.

You looked up at him tearfully, trying to smile as you made up your mind.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Those words alone were enough to bring Cater to his knees, his body giving out on him from the sheer amount of relief he felt knowing...he wouldn't be alone again. As long as you were around, he had someone to keep living for. You sat down on his bed, gently patting the mattress beside you as a silent invitation for him to join, but the most he could manage was a mumbled apology for getting your pants wet as he cried into your lap, too exhausted to pick himself up off the floor.

Deuce

It took a moment for him to process what you were saying. He had barely walked through the doors of Ramshackle at your request for him to come over, and now you were telling him you were leaving??

You had been waiting anxiously for his arrival, so before you even got through the niceties of thanking him for coming, you had kind of just blurted it out to him.

The shock was still running through his veins, so he also blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"But I already told my mom that you're coming for Thanksgiving next year!"

You both stared at each other in silence for a moment, before reality sunk in. You started laughing a little bit, but not without tears starting to well up.

"Well then I guess I've got to stick around until Thanksgiving."

Deuce didn't get the joking tone, tearing up, his bottom lip quivering a bit.

"So you're gonna go home after Thanksgiving? Why are you laughing, this isn't funny." He couldn't help but laugh a tiny bit as well, confused and upset at your reaction.

You shook your head and wiped your eyes a bit, smiling a bit "Well I mean...if I'm invited over for every Thanksgiving, I can't exactly go anywhere because skipping out would just be rude, wouldn't it?" In truth...the fact that he had gone so far as to plan at least a year in advance was enough to confirm that at least one person here wanted you to stay.

Deuce picked up on it now, beaming and tackling you in a tight hug, crushing you more than he intended to. You could feel the tears on his cheek still though as he spoke.

"You're invited to every Thanksgiving at my house from now until the end of time, okay?! You have to be there!"

Ace

It felt like the world stopped moving. He was just planning a prank to pull off on one of his upperclassmen, and was about to share his masterplan with you until he'd seen your face and made the mistake of asking what was wrong.

He just sat himself down next to you on the old Ramshackle couch, arms on his knees, his head down and pensive.

"So that's it? You're just going to up and leave?" You could sense there was more he wanted to say, but was biting his tongue for once, for your sake. His eyes were fixed on the uneven flooring beneath his feet, expression stern and unmoving as he tried to rationalize why you would want to leave.

You took in a sharp breath, trying to respond, but nothing came out.

Ace's brow furrowed in frustration, but tried to hide it by turning his face away.

"I thought you said you were happy here. Sure, things haven't been great, but I thought you had made peace with the fact Crowley is a lazy piece of shit that wasn't going to do anything to get you back where you came from. I thought...." His voice caught for a moment, his breath shaky. "....I thought you'd already decided to stay...because this is home now...I thought the friendships you've made here would be enough to keep you here since you never talk about the friends or family you had back....wherever you came from." He had to stand up at this point, pacing in front of you.

"You have people who care about you here, okay?! You gotta give us more than a days notice or so, don't we deserve that in the very least? Like at least give us time to throw you a party or something but more importantly, give us time to adjust to the idea that our friend is going to be out of our lives forever!" He took a few shaky breaths, panting a bit as he pushed his hair out of his face, trying not to let tears form. Not now. Not in front of you.

His words made you recoil slightly as you felt the need to defend yourself.

"I don't want to adjust to a life without you guys either!"

He looked at you dumbfounded and unamused.

"Then why the fuck are you leaving?"

It took you a moment to process, looking down a bit before responding.

".....I didn't know what I wanted until I heard the opposite of what I wanted...and...well I guess it's kinda dumb, but I think I needed to know that I would actually be missed."

Though you didn't see it, Ace's expression softened immediately. He sighed and sat back down next to you, hugging you tightly to him. "Yeah idiot, I, for one, would miss you a ton...I mean who else is gonna talk Riddle outta givin' me the collar?"

You couldn't help but snort a bit at that, making Ace grin. Thank the Sevens, this wouldn't be the last time he'd try to make you laugh.

Savanaclaw

Leona

You barging into his room wasn't exactly unheard of, rather, your footsteps had become a very comforting sound as they approached his bedroom. He had pretended to be asleep as he heard you coming this time, but just wanted to silently enjoy your company for a bit before "waking up".

Your announcement had him upright in the blink of an eye though, tail flicking in discontent behind him. He studied you for a mere moment before yawning and laying back down.

"If that's so, you better get over here. I demand at least one more nap together."

You didn't really know what to make of his reaction, curiosity over whether that was really "it" or not getting to you as you ventured closer to his bed. As soon as you were close enough, he yanked you close to him, making you yelp. He immediately maneuvered the two of you so that he could lay his head on your shoulder, effectively hiding his face from you...and keeping you somewhat pinned.

"Good luck leaving now herbivore...you're gonna miss this too much if you leave...and you'll no longer have a prince taking care of your every need...and-" He sounded almost like a child, pleading in his own way to be good enough for you to want to stay. If he couldn't be good enough at home, he wanted to know he would still have you.

You ran your fingers gently through his hair.

"Yeah you're right...I think I've gotten too used to this lifestyle to ever go back."

You could feel the tension leave his body as he pressed his head against your hand a little harder.

"Good. You're stuck with me forever."

You couldn't help but smile, any doubts you had melting away with those words alone.

Ruggie

You caught him off guard while he was on laundry duty for Leona, his back to you as silence so thick you could cut it filled the space between you two. Ruggie's ears were pressed flat against his head, his tail had stopped wagging, and for a moment, he didn't move, his hand gripping onto the useless piece of cloth in front of him. You opened your mouth to say something, but he turned to face you, looking over you for a moment.

"Y'know, usually in moments like this I quote my grandma..." You looked a bit confused, thrown off by where he was going with this as his tail started to wag the slightest bit.

"But I don't think she's got anything better than the kids at home do for this situation." He grins and covers his ears with his hands, tail wagging faster. "I didn't hear you so it doesn't count!"

Despite his playful demeanor, you could see tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

"Ruggie-" he immediately closed his eyes so he couldn't see your lips moving either, shaking his head as he tried to deny the news you'd given him.

"I...I can't hear you....please...just...if...if I can't hear you....I can pretend you're at Ramshackle...or somewhere else on Sage Island....I can...it'll be...." his rambling tapered off into soft, gaspy sobs, his hands falling away from his head, moving to hug himself instead. "If you leave...I can just pretend l-like you know how to get back....even..even if your world has no magic."

As soon as your arms wrapped around him, he was hugging you instead, burying his face into your neck and sobbing, his voice cracking as he asked softly, "This...this isn't a g-goodbye hug yet, right?"

"It's not a goodbye hug at all." You nuzzled into his hair a bit, causing him to relax in your hold.

"....do I have to prepare for a goodbye hug in my future?" You didn't have to think about it, shaking your head immediately, and causing him to cling onto you as if to convince himself you weren't going anywhere.

Jack

At your request, Jack had made the trip out to Ramshackle, rather happy that you wanted to see him - though he didn't want to admit it. However, his demeanor shifted as he saw you sitting rather dejectedly on the stairs outside of your dorm. He quickened his pace, before rather awkwardly sitting in front of you on the ground instead of beside you.

Upon checking in on you and receiving the news that you were to go home, his tail curled up beside him and his ears flattened, though he looked more pensive than anything.

"....do you want to go home?"

You looked at him, rather exhausted and rubbed your eye a bit. "I don't know anymore Jack and that's half the issue...I mean at the beginning of the year, yeah, that was what I wanted more than anything but now..." He watched your expression sadden a bit. A comfortable silence fell between you two as you stewed in your conflict and he tried to brainstorm a way to get you to stay without coming off as desperate.

"....you know....they say home is where the heart is..." He looked away a little awkwardly, feeling you silently ask for an explanation with your expression. "....so...if you can figure out where your heart lies....maybe it'll make your decision easier...but for me it's always laid with my family and I uh...consider you family too." He couldn't help but blush a bit at the admission, but felt a little guilty saying it out loud. Though you'd never really talked about your family at home, it wasn't fair to assume they weren't important to you, or to make you feel like you had to choose between one family and the other- if you felt the same way about him, or other friends at least.

His guilt faded as soon as he felt your cool hand against his cheek, a smile on your face despite the tears in your eyes. His tail started wagging a mile a minute as your choice became clear, that you saw him the same way.

Octavinelle

Azul

He was grateful you had come to talk to him in his office. It was much easier to keep his composure between the two of you, though you didn't miss the way his expression darkened for a moment immediately after hearing the news.

You watched curiously as Azul fished a document out from his desk, raising it so as to hide his face as he began reading off of it.

"In the event that the Ramshackle prefect, (i.e Yuu), and any Ramshackle resident(s), excluding any ghosts, are to leave campus permanently before the year 20XX, this letter gives the recipient, (i.e Azul Ashengrotto, Owner of Mostro Lounge), permission to alter, upgrade, and otherwise renovate the Ramshackle dorm building in accordance with Sage Island's building and infrastructure laws and regulations in order to establish another restaurant on Night Raven College school grounds. Signed by Dire Crowley, Headmage of Night Raven College."

You stood there in silent disbelief at the sheer audacity he had, though in the silence that followed, you swore you heard a shaky sigh coming from behind the parchment.

"This would be so much easier if you had just decided I wasn't worth forgiving the first time I attempted to take over your dorm." He groaned softly, now hiding his face in folded arms against his desk as the letter from the headmage drifted to the floor.

"Oh so it's my fault for being nice that you can't take over what's been my home since I've gotten here?" Azul shook his head, sitting up, but rubbing his face with his hand, still adamant on not showing you his real emotions on the matter, before sighing and looking down, his voice wavering.

"....it's your fault that I need you as badly as I do....it's your fault that I've come to look forward to your daily visits...it's your fault that I get up in the morning and look in the mirror, and instead of thinking about how vile I am I remember the things you've said to me that make me smile...it's your fault that there's no way I could take over Ramshackle now that the place has sentimental value to me, as ridiculous as it seems to me, the memories we made far outweigh the economic benefits, and it's your fault I think of it that way."

He refused to look up, even as the soft tap of your shoes on the floor approached his desk, taking a seat across from him.

"I can take the blame for all that...but know that you're at fault too...because it's all your fault...that I'm staying here."

Jade

You had found him in the greenhouse, attending his beloved mushrooms when you dropped the boot on him. He debated for a moment, whether it would be worth it to make you eat one, or to put you to sleep, or otherwise incapacitate you for a short amount of time to give himself more time to process and enforce one of many long term plans he had to keep you here. He mulled over the possibilities rather numbly... in a world where had been taught ruthlessness and that only the fittest would survive, you had been that small sliver of mercy he'd come to love and appreciate. He thought he had done a fairly good job showing you what you meant to him as well, with a constant influx of shiny rocks he found on hikes, or petrified wood, or otherwise sharing his interests and listening to yours. He had shown you that he understood what you had taught him to be a little more comfortable with - vulnerability. So why were you trying to tear him apart now? Was this just another cruel lesson in fate?

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he failed to realize how long silence sat in the air after your announcement. He only snapped back to reality as your hands wrapped around him, your face against the back of his lab coat as you shuddered and sobbed.

"Please, Jade, if I go I'm gonna miss you, don't ignore me right now....please just...at least acknowledge I'll be gone."

He pulled your hands away from him gently, initially causing you more distress until he pulled you close to him again, your chest pressed against his chest so you could hear his heartbeat. His hug was gentle, yet felt all-encompassing as he kept his voice low, as if he was afraid anyone else would hear, despite the two of you being the only ones around.

"I would miss you too. So if you must go, promise you'll spend one more day with me before you leave."

A relieved sob left you as you clung to him weakly.

"I can do you one better."

He smiled, rocking you gently side to side, glad that he wouldn't have to risk betraying your trust to keep you there with him.

Floyd

You caught him right after basketball practice, high on life from the endorphin rush he was on. You hated to potentially put a damper on his mood, but you needed him to know. However, he had just laughed off your announcement, trying to walk away from you.

"Floyd please, I need you to listen, I'm being serious."

Floyd stopped in his tracks, just sighing tiredly and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I know. Doesn't matter. You're not going anywhere."

"But the headmage finally-"

"NO!...Who gives a fuck what the headmage's done, he ain't done shit for you since you arrived, you worked your ass off, lived in a shitty little house, dealt with crazy magic users and barely got paid your worth! But through all that, y'stayed. Things are better now. Just...just stay 'nd enjoy it with the people who care 'bout'chya k? I ain't lettin' you go back until you've at least had a vacation, k? It's your turn to get a happy endin...and you can't lie to me and say that's back in whatever timeline you're from cuz....cuz you told me once that I make ya happy...." His expression had been manic and angry at first, but as his rant came to an end, he looked like he was close to tears.

You couldn't help and smile a tiny bit, moving to hug him, though he met you half way, and the two of you crumpled to the ground as he found ways to wrap around you that you didn't think were humanly possible...but it made you feel safe, secure as you nuzzled into him.

"Just stay ok...I'll talk to the headmage for ya...but don't leave me, ok?...I gotta see ya smile til your cheeks hurt one day."

Scarabia

Kalim

When you had let him know you were coming over, he had asked Jamil to set up a small platter for the two of you to share. At first, he had just whined a bit - why were you going back to Ramshackle so soon? You just got to his dorm, now you wanted to leave? You'd at least take some snacks with you, right?

You sighed a bit, before trying again.

"Kalim...the headmage...has found a way for me to go home home." There was a beat of silence between the two of you, before the boy became a sniveling mess across from you, quickly devolving into full blown bawling as he all but launched himself at you, hugging you around your waist as tears started to soak the fabric of your shirt. He was near incomprehensible, though the message was fairly clear in his sobbing that he wasn't ready to let you go, and he'd do anything to keep you with him.

Jamil

He was busy cooking in the kitchen, enjoying your company, though it was clear you had something on your mind. He didn't pry, but eventually it came out. He just kept working, glad that he had prepared for this day to come.

"Well if you want me to wish you well and see you off, then I suppose now's a good a time as any to say goodbye." He barely glanced over his shoulder, giving you a subtle nod. "Goodbye."

It stung more than you expected it to, but at least he had been decisive, and made it easier for you to walk away from everything. He watched as you got up from your seat and walked towards the door, looking rather sad. He sighed a bit, wiping his hands off on a cloth.

"Did you really think leaving was going to be that easy? You know too much about me. You're not going anywhere. Follow me."

The apparent switch up in attitude had you hopeful and curious as he led you to his room, unlocking the door, then unlocking a small drawer at his desk, pulling out papers, which at a glance, had your name on them.

"I figured since you've shut down any conversation of your personal life at home, the only reason you'd ever want to return would want to return there was because of the financial stability you may have had, and the idea of needing financial assistance was daunting or embarrassing, same with getting your citizenship and passport for Twisted Wonderland. But I've gone ahead and pulled a few strings and made deals with some of Kalim's aunties. Now....you've got a deed to a home once you graduate, you have health insurance, you have a citizenship from Scalding Sands, and a passport from Scalding Sands."

He stacked each wad of paper in your hands as he explained them, before looking rather smug and booping your nose.

"Of course, if you still plan to leave I could just hypnotize you."

Pomefiore

Vil

You had gone to him to his room, sat on his bed and just watched him paint his nails at his vanity. He could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of you, but he had the time, so he waited until you told him yourself rather than pressing you. He could hear the way your breath trembled, uneven gasps for air that you tried to keep under control as he just shook his head.

"Do I really need to tell you how all this is going to play out?" His icy violet eyes locked onto your startled ones in the mirror, as you tried to wipe any evidence of crying away from your face. You were confused, and conflicted, making Vil's face soften just the smallest bit as he redirected his gaze and attention to his nails.

"You tell me you want to go. As your friend, I'll support you in what would make you happiest, though I'm not going to tell you what would make you happiest, that's for you to decide. You'll go back to Ramshackle, start packing your things, still second guessing yourself. It won't be until you're in front of the mirror and the gravity of the situation hits you that there's no way for you to come back that you'll finally tell Crowley you'd like to stay..."

He finally turns around to look you face to face.

"So skip the song and dance, come to terms with the fact you'd like to stay, and I'll speak to the headmage on your behalf to inform him you'll be staying as long as you damn well please."

He had more conviction in both his expression and tone than you had heard before, and you certainly hadn't heard him cuss in any meaning of the word. It only took a moment longer of searching his expression to see the emotion behind the mask he was wearing was fear.

You couldn't help but sniffle and rub at your eyes a bit, nodding and laughing through your tears a bit.

"You're right. You always are. Thank you."

Visible relief, though subtle, was clear on Vil's face, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"Really now, did you think I was just going to let you walk out of my life like that? Absolutely not."

Rook

Rook had seen you leave the headmage's office looking incredibly upset, so moments later he fell into step beside you in silence. Without saying a word, the two of you headed in the direction of the woods, cutting through paths Rook had taught you to see until you reached a small clearing, a place Rook had shown you as his safe haven. The two of you had been laying silently on the grass, only broken by the sound of you beginning to cry as you confessed the reason you were upset.

He moved to hold you close immediately, letting you turn towards him as he gently rubbed your back and let you cry.

"Why are you letting this rest on you so heavily, mon trickster, when it's clear the thought of leaving is causing you so much distress...why would you want to go to the one place where I could not hope to follow you?"

He took your hand gently, placing it on his chest over his heart. "If you left, my heart may explode. You can feel it racing now....the thought of being without you may be too much for even me to handle...and you know I can take much more than I show." He bumped his head against yours lightly, not unlike a cat as he closed his eyes.

"Please...I can only handle so much heartache...stay where I can reach you..."

Epel

He ran into you quite literally, trying to make it back to Pomefiore after spell drive practice in time to avoid Vil's rant on punctuality. However, when he registered you were crying rather than laughing the impact off, he was worried he had hurt you more than he had gotten hurt himself, checking in on you anxiously until you let it spill.

His immediate reaction was like that of a toddler, a very determined expression as he just went "Nuh-uh."

It was enough to shock you out of both the pain you were in and to make you laugh a little incredulously, causing your tears to stop flowing for a moment.

"W...what?"

Epel's expression only deepened, though it was a little difficult to take him seriously.

"I said, nu-uh. You ain't goin' nowhere, not if I got anythin' t'say on the matter, y'hear? Your family's here, your friends are here an' the headmage can't do shit if y'up 'n' tell'm off for tryna send ya home just cuz it makes him feel better he finally kept a goddamn promise, no way, nu-uh, that ain't flyin' with me!" He huffed and grabbed your wrist gently.

"Now come on, you get to to be the one to tell Vil why I'm late."

Ignihyde

Idia

Usually, you would just sit in Idia's room, enjoying each other's company in silence as you did your own things. You had a keycard to his room, and he would get a chime in his headphones that let him know it was you coming in. To him, nothing was amiss as silence hung between the two of you for nearly two hours, though his headphone was slightly offset his ear in case you needed anything.

So when you all but whimpered "I can't do this anymore" his headphones all but flew off his head as he whirled around his chair to face you, confused and off put by your tone until you told him what was wrong.

He just paused, before a wide grin spread across his face, slightly manic.

"What you think I'd just let you leave? Just 'oh Idia, I can go home now so goodbye forever', you seriously think I'm going to let you walk away? You're my closest IRL friend, and I've....I've lost enough already, I'm not letting you make me loose again." He laughed, but it was pained as he pushed back his hair, trying to calm down and failing as he stood up and started pacing.

"You're....you can't be serious, right? You're just gonna leave? Did I do finally do something wrong? Wrong enough that you want to be sent to another timeline where I don't exist, where our friendship doesn't exist, like this was all for nothing?!" He stopped and looked at you, hurt and distressed, his voice shaky and small.

"....was it all for nothing?"

His intensity wasn't anything new, but it had never been directed at you specifically. The ends of his hair were flared up and tinted orange, but his expression was nothing but pleading until you burst into tears again, apologizing and promising you'd stay.

Ortho

He knew exactly why you'd been called into the headmage's office, and was waiting for you as you stepped out of the room, only to take your hand and drag you right back in, first, angry whirring leaving him, before he settled enough to say anything that you and the headmage could understand.

"How dare you! You can't make them feel like they don't have a choice, just because it gives you a sense of doing something right doesn't mean it is! You're gonna let them stay or I'm leaking the security cam footage of what you do in your office all day- then it'll really be confirmed that you're nothing but a useless pile of-"

"Ortho-"

His head whipped around at your warning tone, eyes wide. "What?....I was gonna say crap, not the other word."

You couldn't help the small chuckle that left you before Crowley spoke up.

"Now there's no need for all those threats Ortho-"

Ortho's attention whipped back to the headmage, and in the blink of an eye his face was directly in front of Dire's, uncomfortably close as two sets of slightly glowing yellow eyes focused on each other.

"Don't you even think about trying to send my sibling away again...or the security cam footage is going to be the least of your worries."

Diasomnia (sorry, Malleus and Lilia lovers this is the best I got rn)

Malleus

Nope. You've either read chapter 7, you're reading through chapter 7, or you will read chapter 7. Sorry, he's just as you'd expect him to be. (read as: I think writing this out will feel tedious and boring and I'll loose motivation in these last few characters because bro is the most predictable dude ever)

Lilia

It hadn't been difficult to find him - in fact, when you got to Ramshackle, he had helped himself to some rather questionable looking hot chocolate and was sitting on your couch, patting the space beside him, smiling a bit.

"From what I understand, you've got plenty to think about. They say all good things must come to an end, but if you're writing the story, why not add a few more chapters where you're happiest?"

Silver

You had found him napping under one of the trees on campus, surrounded by furry little friends as per usual. You made yourself at him, laying next to him with your head on his shoulder, just watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as you snuggled your friend for what felt like could be the last time. You weren't sure how much time had passed until a sharp inhale signaled he was waking up, snapping you out of your own dissociation. The familiar weight of you on his arm just made him give you a gentle squeeze as he woke up, softly greeting you, taking a moment to listen to his animal friends, then asking you what was wrong as he pulled you a little closer, turning towards you and placed his hand behind your head protectively.

Upon hearing what was bothering you, he shook his head a bit, and many of the critters that were around the two of you found ways to cuddle the both of you. With how much you were crying, it was only fair that they were concerned.

"Don't go home...clearly you're not happy...if the headmage is trying to force you to return home, tell him that you consider this world your home. Or Ramshackle...or Briar Valley...if you just say the word, I can ask fa- Lilia to start getting you a citizenship...then you'll not only be registered in Briar Valley...but we both know that Malleus would never let any of his citizens suffer either...and disobeying a direct order from fae royalty would put Crowley in a bad position." He hummed and pulled you a little closer. "Besides...without you, I'll only ever wake up to Sebek for the rest of my life...I adore him like a brother, but I admit I prefer your method of rousing me from slumber." It was subtle, but you could tell he tried to inject humour into his tone as he sighed deeply, but stayed tense until you gently played with his hair, tears starting to roll down your cheeks as you nodded and agreed - both to finding your place in this world permanently in Briar Valley...and as Silver's designated waker-upper.

Sebek

He had seen you while he was on his horse, excitedly riding over when he saw you wave, though as he got closer, your expression seemed less and less happy to see him. You wished he had waited until he was in front of you to ask what was wrong, but as you expected, as soon as he noticed something was amiss, his voice boomed across the field between the two of you, his poor horse startling some. It took him a moment to get control of his horse once more, before he managed to make it to you, hopping down and holding onto the reins tightly as he looked at you expectantly for an answer.

"WHAT DID THE HEADMAGE SAY TO YOU?!"

Both you and his poor horse flinched and startled, but Sebek scooped you up, mounting his horse easily with you in front of him, boxed in and secure in his arms as he was set and determined, heading towards the main school building, though when you looked back at his face, the trails of a few tears were clear on his cheeks.

"If the headmage's mind will not be changed, then we must inform Malleus. He will ensure you stay here with m- us. With us."

Extra (pretend you didn't say anything to him yet lol)

Grim

You had been sitting in Ramshackle for a while, the headmage's words eating away at you like acid, leaving you in a dissociative state on the couch. You were so out of it, so caught up in your feelings, that when Grim finally came home after messing around with some of the first years, you immediately felt your heart drop as he very gently, very concerned looking, put his paw on your arm, checking in on his favourite hench human.

"Y'look like you're gonna c- MYAH!" You couldn't help but pull the cat into your arms, your whole body curling around him as you cried softly into the bow on his back. He squirmed around, fighting to face you as he gently held your face in his paws, looking kinda mad. "Who made ya cry, huh?! Tell me and I'll light'em up! Nobody messes with my hench human!"

You couldn't help the half laugh, half sob that left you as you just gently bumped your head against Grim's.

"Nothing you have to worry about Grim...I'm just...um...I'm really glad to have you in my life." You offered him a small smile as he tilted his head, bumping you back softly as his tail swished curiously.

"I..I mean I am too, but that doesn't tell me why you're cryin'!" He rubbed his face against yours again, trying to dry your tears,

"The headmage was gonna try and send me home...but I'm not...I'm not going to do it." Grim looked shocked for a moment, before more aggressively snuggling against you, purring.

"Good...cuz even if you did go home, ya couldn't get rid of me that easily!...I'd come with you!"

You laughed softly, mostly in shock and shook your head. "There's no magic back home...or talking animals...I'm not sure that would be the best idea."

He looked sad for a moment, curling up in your hold more so you wouldn't see his face. "Yeah but...you're all I got...so anywhere you go, I'll go...no matter what.

-------------------------------------------------------- I hated this the longer I wrote it but it wasn't until I was like at Vil that I started to get unhappy so I decided to say fuck it and just stick to it anyways. Yes I've been procrastinating hw shut up. Love you.

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chrissvalentine · 21 days

Text

✧˖*° ࿐ drunk. ⋆· ˚ ༘ *

pairing: boyfriend!chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris being a gentleman, taking care of you after drunkenly stumbling into his apartment.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, use of ‘baby & ma’, lowercase intended

chris, laying down on his living room couch starts to get worried when his urgent texts to you don't go through. it's about 2 am, you were supposed to be home an hour and a half ago.

chris decides something must be wrong, and sends a text to one of your closest friends who was at the party with you.

as he begins his text, he hears slight tapping coming from the front door. thinking it may be a stray cat, or something like that, he brushes it off and continues his text to your friend.

chris is soon interrupted by you bursting through the door, with a smirk on your face. chris shoots up from the couch, and swiftly walks over to you.

he cups your face in his hands for a short moment before asking, "baby, where have you been? do you know what time it is?" he says as he flashes his phone screen in your face with the time on it.

you squint your eyes at the sudden brightness, and push his phone away as you begin to walk to the kitchen for a snack. as you walk, you begin to stumble. chris is right with you as he holds your waist steady.

"cmon baby, let's get you to bed. you've had a long night." he says as he tugs on your sleeve.

you protest, giving him puppy dog eyes, but he doesn't give in. he brings you into your shared room, and speaks softly to you.

"sit down baby, let's get you into something more comfy." he says as he motions towards the end of your guys' bed.

as you sit where he tells you, he begins taking off your heels. discarding them neatly towards the closet. he then speaks up again, "arms up"

you oblige, lifting your arms weakly. he takes off your dress, and replaces it with one of his t-shirts. he then takes off your shorts, again replacing them with one of your comfy shorts.

he walks to the bathroom, and shortly returns with makeup wipes. he takes one out of the package and begins to take off your makeup. all you can do is admire him as you can see how much effort he puts into your relationship, and always making sure your alright.

he continues to take your makeup off as you get lost in that thought. you begin to reminisce on all the times he's cared for you, even when he didn't have to.

"baby? are you okay?" he says as you snap back to the moment.

"yeah, i'm good. i- i just really love you.." you admit in a caring tone. he smiles at you lovingly before giving your forehead a kiss.

chris stands up, holding his hand out for you to grab. as you grab it, he walks both of you towards the head of the bed. you slowly lower yourself down, and chris is holding you gently.

as both of you lay down, chris is quick to pull you into his embrace. you fall asleep almost instantly. chris then whispers to you as you smile in your sleep, "i love you so much, ma."

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x you

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cregansdingdong · 1 month

Text

ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ.

Cregan Stark x fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: NSFW, porn without plot, m!receiving oral, very sloppy blowjob good stuff, starts off slow but then there's some face-fucking, swearing, one *tiny* face smack (its not bad i promise), he’s gonna come in her throat for giving him attitude; yeah the gif is the perfect representation for this tbh

Hot stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

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“What was I supposed to do then? Refuse the Lord Commander?” Cregan raises a brow, head tilted up at the ceiling as his wife stood there in front of his desk, hands on her hips. “I didn’t say that, Cregan. He could’ve waited a moment rather than storm into breakfast. And for what? To report a runaway from Castle Black? He could’ve sent a raven and saved himself all the trouble. I think he just wanted a small getaway.” He barks out a laugh at her accusation. “And I think you’re spoiled. My spoiled little wife who does not like having my attention taken away.”

“And so what if I don’t?” She huffs, lips morphing into a scowl. “Especially not during meal times—you’re a busy man and breakfast is Cregan time, not Lord Stark. My time with my husband. Lord Commander Markus surely was exhausted from his journey—but the entire thing was needlessly frantic. You are not a dog he may call on the moment he prefers it.” Cregan, since the day they'd married, had been a fairly patient man. She had a southern temper, which he had to learn how to douse and maintain just as she did. That's not to say his wife wasn't capable of controlling herself—she merely didn't care how she spoke to him.

His glance is lined with warning, but she either didn't catch it or ignored it completely. He guesses the latter. “Those sorts of matters are my responsibility. Deserters must be punished by my hand, wife. That is the way of the North, which you know well by now. Refrain from comparisons.” Neither of them were backing down. “Of course that is the only thing you take away from what I'm saying.” She scoffs. “My comparison is correct. When he calls, you bark. When he arrives, you heel. Are you his Warden Wolf or his pup? Because I'm not sure I can tell the difference any—”

“Get on your knees.”

“...what?” The surprise on her face would be etched into his memory forever. “On your knees. I won’t tell you again, wife.” His voice was low in the quiet of the room; daunting, even. “Right here.” Cregan scoots his chair back from the desk, thighs spread, gray eyes unblinking as he waits. She debated walking away, but she knew better. He watched as she took a few meager steps around his desk, the hem of her gown slowly gathering on the floor. Maybe she'd pushed him too far this time. “I think you've forgotten yourself—who's wife you are.” He squeezes her chin in his large hand, pleased by her soft sound of protest. “Yes, you have.” He grunts, stopping the words from leaving her mouth. “And now, you’re going to do exactly what I tell you—when I tell you. Do you understand?”

He seemed fairly satisfied with her little nod. “Good, pup. Unlace my breeches.” His wife reaches out to fumble with the ties after only a moment, his hand releasing the grip on her flushed face. She tugs the laces with a fervor, feeling him harden under her fingertips. It didn’t take much, honestly. He murmurs something she doesn’t catch as she gently wriggles him out of the confines of his breeches, brows furrowed in concentration. “You don’t deserve my cock in your mouth yet. Kiss only. Use your tongue if you have such a lack of self-restraint. You’re good at that.” The jab was directed and shot, but the weight of him in her hand had her head spinning too fast to say anything smart in return. Her lips meet his tip with a quiet, pleased hum, her tongue dipping into the crease where his precum dribbled.

Cregan’s reaction was immediate. “Like that…” He sighs, head tilting back, just savoring the relief. Fire thrummed in her stomach. She kisses down the underside of his cock, ignoring the tickle of the dark hair at the base of him as it brushed against her jaw.

His arms were slack on the rests, fingers twitching with every small suction of her lips on him. Kiss by kiss, he hardens fully under her hands, and lines of swears erupt from his throat like mantras. “In your mouth now, pup.” He looks down at her with hooded eyes, looking like he was trying not to smile but failing anyway. To be fair, it was Cregan. The slight quirk of his lips was upturned enough to count. She situates herself a little further between his thick thighs, resting her elbows down midway as her palms lay over his. And then she took him into her mouth.

“Fuck..” He groans, something low and sinful that brought her butterflies. It was quite the sight to see the Warden of the North melt so easily by a tongue. He wasn’t like most men sometimes—usually. This, though. He certainly was. Not much longer before he’d forget what she said to him in the first place. The thought drove her to sink deeper on him, barely able to go halfway but that was already enough to get his tip in the far end of her mouth. He curses more—although entirely unintelligible this time—and his hands lift, presumably to tangle themselves in her hair. But they don’t make it there. She might’ve been trapped there on the floor between his legs, but that didn’t mean he was going to get all that he wanted. Her nails dig hard into the back of his hands, close to the wrists, and keep them firmly planted against the armrests.

He hisses momentarily in surprise. With his thick skin, it was more likely his ego was more hurt than his hands. She bobs her head with a vengeance of her own, and he slumps in the chair with a growl, thoroughly annoyed to be held back. “I’m going…to give you…five seconds...wife. Release me.” Her nails dig harder in response, pinching the skin hard enough for him to react. Cregan’s thighs tense more under her elbows. She counted down in her mind as she was sure he was doing in his. It was absolutely worth a bit of punishment. Saliva coated his cock, the drool slithering down the underside of it enough to make it sound even more lewd. He loved it when she abandoned her manners. “Wife.” He warns again. What happened to never repeating yourself twice, husband? The thought would’ve made her laugh if it weren’t for his cock.

He bucks his hips toward her throat—on purpose, obviously—and the force of it surprises her entirely, gagging in the slightest as she loses her grip on him. His hands are snatched from under her ruthless nails, and although out of view as he clutched her cheeks together, she didn’t fail to catch the pinkish skin around the moon-shaped indentations. They would certainly leave a mark tomorrow. Cregan pushes her back from his cock, seething, and his dark eyes never leave her face. His fingers dig into her cheeks unconsciously before letting go—and as quick as they go, a warning smack makes her face turn to the side. It didn’t hurt, by any means, but it sent a thrill right down between her thighs. “If you ever hold my hands back again, I’ll fuck you so full of my seed that all of Winterfell will hear your pathetic little mewls for me to stop. Do you understand me, pup? Answer me.”

“I understand.” She relents, eyes darting from his face to his red cock, the beat of her heart following every throb of the pretty veins. His eyes narrowed at her, not entirely trusting but he’d gotten his point across. “Make me come, wife.” She didn’t need him to say another word, her lips instantly wrapping around his tip to pick up where she left off. This time, she kept her hands planted on his thighs, breathing harshly through her nose as she took more and more of his cock. Her fists clenched around his breeches tightly, her gaze flicking up at him. He was watching, panting, the last of his restraint hanging by a thread. Cregan never lasted very long in her mouth, not that either of them thought he needed to. “To the base.” He mutters, holding off the urge to fuck her throat. He wanted to see if she could do it herself first.

His wife does her best attempt three-fourths of the way—close enough for the tip of her nose to brush against the coarse hair. The feeling nearly brought him to the edge anyway, close to falling off entirely. His grunts were louder, less composed. He was getting desperate. He reaches out to grip her hair, his own strands drooping down into his line of sight. “I’m gonna come—hold your breath for me.” She does. He doesn’t waste a moment, cupping her face gently, thumbs soothing the skin of her cheeks as he starts to buck up into her mouth like he was rabid. The sound of his tip sliding almost into her throat was enough to do it. Cregan was snarling now, fucking her face with purpose as the come dribbled down her tongue and mouth. “Good girl! Good fucking girl! Taking me so well!”

Eventually, he slowed, spent and breathing heavily as she recuperated through long inhales and exhales through her nose. She was still sucking on him though, eager for every drop. Leaned back in his chair, limp like a rag doll, Cregan gave her one of his sweet, lazy smiles. “...Told you not to compare.”

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

#cregan stark #hotd #house of the dragon #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark x female reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan x you #hotd cregan #cregan fanfiction #cregan stark smut #hotd smut #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #cregan stark x female reader smut

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gor3-hound · 3 months

Text

CRY FOR ABSOLUTION - LEON S. KENNEDY

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

a/n: heyyy :3 had to make the priest collar edit on picsart so don't look at it too close... um... title from 'absolution' by ghost. thank you @ottermarbles for beta reading !! been working on this slowly while writing commissions... finally here !! rbs and feedback appreciated as always <3

cw: 18+ content, priest!leon, non-religious!reader, dead dove, non-con to dub-con to non-con, victim turned perpetrator, forced breeding, mentions of forcing marriage, religious themes, p in v, creampie, degradation, name calling, breath play

word count: 1.6k words

Leon can sense your presence in the church before he sees you. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, his whole body going rigid. He starts murmuring under his breath, eyes shut as he recites the prayer. He’d tried countless times to pray to the Virgin Mary, to strengthen his faith in God so he may resist your advances. To Saint Mary Magdalene, to guide you away from your life of sin. To God Himself to plead that you would leave him alone.

He was sure you were the Devil. Almost certain that you were some cruel test that God had bestowed on him.

He grips the rosary dangling around his neck as your footsteps get closer, whispering one final prayer to God, a desperate plea to give him strength before he faces you, hands trembling as his eyes open to meet yours. Leon couldn’t quite understand how you always managed to avoid the crowds, to worm your way into the Church between services, narrowly avoiding the other priests. You did not care for them, for your faith. You had your eyes set on Leon, a succubus in the flesh that had targeted him so callously.

”While I appreciate your dedication to the Church, I’m afraid the service has already drawn to a close, and there is a lot of work for me to get through before tonight’s service. Perhaps if you return later with the other parishioners, we can s-“

”Father, I hoped to speak to you before the service.” You say as you stalk closer, your heated gaze trailing him. He almost doesn’t hear you speak, the ringing in his ears dampening the sound around him, making your voice nothing more than a faint echo. He’s looking at you, but he’s not seeing you. His gaze is far away as he tries to think of something, anything else. A lump forms in his throat that he cannot dislodge no matter how hard he tries, swallowing to attempt to clear the passage enough so that he felt he could breathe, but with no success. His vision blurs, and he vaguely registers the tears forming in his eyes as you coo, cupping his cheek to wipe the few that fall.

”Please,” he whispers, voice cracking as he gazes at you fully, your face slowly coming into focus. What did he do to deserve this? He was a good man, wasn’t he? He’d tried his best to help the less fortunate, to be kind to everyone he spoke with. Had he committed some sin without realising it? Some blight against God that meant he deserved this? "Please, I don’t want this. You’re misguided, that's all. I can help you. You don’t have to do this.”

As always, his protests fall on deaf ears. He feels the steady stream of tears running down his face, brows pinching together as you back him up into the confessional. His chest continues to grow tighter and tighter until his lungs constrict painfully with each breath. The air gets caught in his throat and makes him choke, his brain shutting down as he just lets you free him from his vestments and tug down his trousers. He's glad to be rid of the collar, at the very least. It feels less like God was bearing down on his throat to drag him to Hell for letting this happen.

The first sob forces its way from his chest as your lips wrap around his cock. He wishes that he could hate the way it felt. It makes him nauseous - makes his head spin, but it feels good. He's at war with himself as to what this means, if enjoying the wet warmth wrapped around him means he's no better than you. He closes his eyes and clenches his fists as he tries to distance himself from your touch.

You pull yourself off of his cock with a pop, rustling around for something in your pocket. The crinkle of a packet has his eyes snapping open again, his eyes honing in on the foil you're holding up between two fingers. Panic seeps into his very core, his breath coming out in harsh puffs. “Thought we could try something new.” You say with a giggle, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

No. No, this couldn't happen to him. He's a priest - he's meant to stay far, far away from the pleasures of the flesh. He had to do something, anything to stop you. He swallows hard, eyes flickering around the confessional, trying to figure a way out of this before you lead him down a path of sin.

Leon isn't sure what happened. One minute, you were tearing open the condom with your teeth, and the next minute, he pounced. His hand gripped your throat to pin you down in the confessional, squeezing tight. His eyes are wide, almost feral as they meet yours, his free hand yanking your underwear down. His movements are clumsy as he prods as your cunt, trying to push his way in. After a few attempts, he manages to hook the tip on your entrance, and he slides home in one thrust.

“Oh.” He breathes out, eyes squeezing shut again. Maybe God wasn't testing him. Maybe this was his reward for being a good follower - all he had to do was breed this pussy full and wed you, and he'd be able to do this as many times as he pleased.

No. This was a test. He must have passed. He succeeded, and this was his reward. A pretty housewife for him to keep bred and safe in his grasp. A woman to cure his cold, lonely nights. He could finally have the family he always wanted. He was angry at you now, yes, but he would forgive you when you accepted his proposal and his seed.

“Temptress.” He hisses between gritted teeth, the hand on your throat tightening. The pressure against your windpipe is bruising, leaving you desperately trying to gasp in breaths through too tight of a passage. “Indecent whore. This is what you wanted, wasn't it? You didn't care when I told you ‘no’, did you? No? Then take it.”

He scoffs as you plead for him to stop again, his brows narrowing in frustration. He didn't want to do this. Leon was a good man. He was a holy man. He couldn't let you ruin him. What if the word of this got out?

“You wanted to ruin me, didn't you? You thought you couldn't take what you wanted from me without consequences? That… fuck… that God wouldn't punish your sins? I'm going to make you take my seed. You're going to be my pretty little wife, and no one will hear about this.”

He thrusts forward particularly violently after his words, his grip on your throat tightening enough that you start thrashing, cunt clenching around his cock enough that he has to halt his movements to stop himself from cumming too soon.

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will drag you down into the deepest depths of Hell with me. I swear it on the Lord Himself.” He grits out, finally releasing his hold on your throat.

He ignores your protests, a muddy mix of guilt and anger swirling in his chest with each plea that falls from your lips. You had shown him no mercy, and yet you expect him to spare you? You were nothing more than a Godless nymph. He would show you the light.

“Do you know your prayers, hmm?” He coos, gripping your chin. The pads of his fingers dig into your cheeks harshly, drawing a pained moan from you. He starts fucking into you again now that his orgasm has fully subsided, letting out a shaky breath at the drag of his length against your gummy walls. “No, of course. You have no respect for the house of the Lord - you just wish to defile it.”

He lets go of your face to hitch your legs over his waist, breaths coming out in heavy pants as he pistons his hips into you, sweat beading against his skin from exertion, bangs stuck flat against his forehead. “Repeat after me.”

‘Lord God, in your goodness have mercy on me:’

The words fall past your lips in a daze as you repeat them, his hand reaching up to your throat again, but not squeezing. A warning to continue as he speaks the next line.

‘Do not look on my sins, but take away all my guilt.’

He's close now, barely able to hold back as he ruts into you helplessly, reduced to nothing more than a dog in heat as you clench around his cock.

‘Create in me a clean heart and renew within me an upright spirit.’

His hips stutter as you repeat the last words of Contrition back to him, his head dropping to the crook of your shoulder as he gasps out sharp breaths. His cock jumps as he orgasms, stuffing you full of his cum with a noise more akin to a whimper than a moan.

He leans back, eyes taking in your appearance. There was some kind of sick satisfaction seeing you broken like this, knowing God had allowed him to take back the part of him you had aimed to destroy.

You would be his. He would keep you as his wife, his prize. He was given a chance to relinquish the sins you had bestowed upon him.

He would not let the opportunity pass.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil smut #dark content #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you

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teamred · 16 days

Text

in sickness and in health

✩‌ logan howlett x reader x wade wilson | fluff | 1.6k

SUMMARY | you may be bedridden with the flu and feeling miserable, but you're blessed with two boyfriends to take good care of you. // part of the home sweet home series + requested by anonymous!

WARNINGS | s*xual jokes, none really!

RATING | teen+

It’s early Monday morning when your body feels like utter shit.

You toss and turn in bed, fighting the blanket away from your boyfriends in a struggle to warm up, only throwing it off seconds after because of how hot you also feel. Your muscles are starting to ache, like you ran a marathon and then some.

Next to you, Logan’s the first to stir awake, picking up on your restless movements. Propping himself up on one forearm, he gently places the back of his hand on your forehead.

“Darlin’,” he whispers, brushing the damp hair away from your face. “You should call in sick. Ain’t no way you’re goin’ to work like this.”

You turn away from him in protest. “No, I’m okay. Just feeling a little tired.”

Logan huffs and shakes his head over how stubborn you are.

He suddenly grabs his pillow and hurls it directly at Wade’s head, who’s sleeping on the other side of you. The pillow smacks into the latter, waking him from his deep snoring with a snort and a startled jump.

“What the fuck?!” Wade mumbles, rubbing his eyes and stroking his bald head as if he’s running fingers through his non-existent hair. “If you wanted to fuck this early in the morning, you could’ve just asked, sunshine.”

An eye-roll from Logan. “Time to wake up, sleepin’ beauty.”

He gets out of bed and pulls on a shirt, then walks towards Wade’s side of the bed, shoving his head. “Back me up in tellin’ our girl she’s gotta call in sick today.”

“Huh?” Wade squints at your resting body, but when he leans over and presses his hand to your forehead, his eyes widen in shock.

“Jesus H. Christ, you’re burnin’ up more than the Jonas Brothers did in 2008. You’re staying home, peanut, and that’s not a request. Doctor Deadpool’s orders!”

You whine. “Do I really have to?”

“Yes,” they reply sternly in unison.

Giving into your boyfriends’ commands, you groan. As Logan heads out of the room, Wade hands over your phone.

And you hate to admit it, but you know they’re right because you barely have enough energy to call in sick. To be safe, you ask for two days off, then flop right back into bed.

Carefully, Wade pulls you into his arms and whispers into your hair, “Need a sexy nurse to take care of you, baby? ‘Cause I think I got an outfit stashed somewhere.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out as a flat wheeze. “Maybe later, babe.”

“Awww, you poor thing.” He frowns sympathetically. “You can barely even laugh. Man, you must be dying.”

A few minutes later, Logan returns, holding a steaming cup of tea and ibuprofen in his other. He sits down onto the bed.

“Here. Take these and drink this,” Logan orders. Wade releases you as you sit up slowly, wincing as you do, and follow through with Logan’s instructions.

“You guys should probably avoid being near me,” you rasp. You’ll definitely need to drink more tea to soothe your oncoming sore throat.

Logan chuckles softly and Wade ruffles your hair.

“I can’t get sick,” Logan states matter-of-factly.

“Neither do I,” your other boyfriend adds. “Well, I mean, unless you count cancer constantly fucking me in the ass.”

In the moment, you’re filled with utmost envy for your superpowered boyfriends and their ridiculous healing abilities.

Wade climbs out of bed, patting Logan on the shoulder as he stands.

“I’m gonna run some errands for our little sicky princess. Hold the fort down and keep her tied to the bed with those strong arms of yours, yeah?” He squeezes Logan’s bicep playfully and gives him a wink.

“Pick up more tea for her.”

“Oh, most definitely. And I’ll get condoms too! You know, they say that fever sex helps you get better faster.”

“Wade.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

He leans down, whispering above you. “I’m not kidding. I’d still do you in your current state, but only if you were up for it. Love you, babe.” He plants a kiss on your head and departs with a wave of his fingers.

The older of your boyfriends shifts closer to you on your bed. “Do you want me to hold you right now?”

You groan in negation, shaking your head slightly. You appreciate the gesture, but with your body switching between chills and a fever, Logan’s body warmth would just make things worse.

“If you need anything, baby, just let me know,” he says softly.

In response, you hum and nod, allowing yourself to relax as much as you can. Soon enough, you drift off, and can feel a hand stroking the side of your head, soothing you towards your much needed rest.

“Wade, she’s sick, not on her death bed.”

You blink awake, the sunlight coming through the window stronger than before. Judging by the position of the light, a few hours have passed since you fell asleep. You’re woken up by the familiar sounds of your boyfriends bickering in the other room.

To strangers, and even to themselves, it sounds grating. But to you, it’s strangely calming and comforting.

“Well, excuse me for being an exceptional boyfriend! I just wanna make sure she’s got anything she needs,” Wade fires back.

A brief pause.

“That’s… thoughtful of you,” Logan grumbles stiffly.

Wade’s laugh rings through the apartment, and you can envision him standing up with his hands on his hips, shaking his head in amusement. “Wow, that must’ve felt like pulling teeth for you, huh? Wait—why aren’t your teeth adamantium?”

You think Logan sighs and probably rolls his eyes too. “Go check in on her, dumbass.”

“Love you too, my lil honey badger,” Wade says, his voice and footsteps coming closer to the bedroom door.

A soft knock on the door.

“Feelin’ better yet, honey?” Wade asks, peeking his head through the door.

“Not really,” you grumble.

In a flash, he’s right in front of your face, his nose pressed against your cheek. “How about now?”

That gets a small laugh from you. He grins, leaving a loud, exaggerated smooch on your cheek, holding it down for emphasis. You scrunch your face up at the lovely gesture.

“What did you get from the store?” you ask with Wade’s arm now slung around your body.

“Literally everything. Whatever you want, I’ve got it. I’m basically Costco now.”

You test him. “Diapers?”

“Okay, I don’t have that,” he admits, deadpan. “But I do have five different flavours of soup, an action figure of myself and Logan for you to play with—or to enact voodoo sex, you know I love a little one-on-one action with our man!—some random German cookies, and a bottle of Chinese herbal medicine the lady down the street swore by. At least, I think it’s medicine? Hard to say. And that’s only a few of the things I got.”

“Can I have some soup?”

“Of course. Tomato, cream of mushroom, chicken noodle, spicy nacho cheese, or clam chowder?”

“Surprise me.”

“Spicy nacho cheese, it is.”

You grunt in disapproval.

“Chicken noodle soup, it is.”

After Wade spent some time spoonfeeding you your soup and Logan replenishing your cup of tea, sleep claimed you once more. By the time you wake up again, the room is pitch dark.

“Logan,” you groan weakly. You immediately hear the TV volume lowered, followed by recognizable footsteps approaching the room.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Logan murmurs gently, sitting on the bed and reaching out to touch your forehead. You’re warm, but it’s an improvement from the morning. “Everything okay?”

“Is there any dinner?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Is our girl hungry?” Wade hollers from the other room. “‘Cause I’m cooking up a storm right now!”

A corner of Logan’s mouth quirks up. “I think Wade’s on it.”

He turns on one of the bedside lamps, the soft light illuminating the room. With it, he catches the pleading look in your eyes, one that he can decipher in a heartbeat. Without hesitation, he scoots closer and pulls you into his chest, embracing you with a tight hug.

“I feel like shit,” you grumble into him with your arms twined at his neck, inhaling his scent.

“I know, baby, but it’ll pass. The more you rest, the faster it’ll go away,” he reassures you, stroking your back. “You gonna admit staying home was a good idea?”

“Mm-mm.” You shake your head, even though you know he was right.

He looks at you with a smirk. “You’re lucky you’re as cute as you are stubborn.”

Moments later, Wade, adorning a “Blow the Chef” apron, comes in with a bed tray. You pull away from Logan, allowing Wade to properly position the tray in front of you. At the sight of syruped pancakes, you beam, especially at the attempted heart-shaped ones.

“Voila! Voici les crêpes,” Wade declares in a decent French accent, but you’re pretty sure he’s mispronouncing crêpes as he says it like crap.

“Thanks for everything, you guys,” you say, glancing up at your boyfriends. “I feel really bad.”

“Never ever feel bad about being sick, baby.” Wade says, setting in on one side of you. “It just means more time for us to spoil you.”

Logan snuggles you on your other side, wrapping an arm around you. “It ain’t your fault, and it’s what we’re here for.”

After being out for so long, you spend your time eating the pancakes and asking how their day was. Logan gets in a word before Wade rambles on how he almost got into a fight with a kid at one of the various stores he dropped by.

With both of them beside you, you finally start to feel a little better, if not from the flu, at least from the comfort they give.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fluff #logan howlett fluff #wade wilson x you #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #deadpool x you #deadpool fluff

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moonsaver · 28 days

Text

The isekai trope is burning my brain. Pls have this yan!alhaitham with isekai'd reader who actually tells him the deal.

---

What if you got isekai'd into genshin? (specifically sumeru for my taste of scenario)

And alhaitham actually got to know? Maybe you don't even hide it while he's talking to you and writing down whatever you're saying while you're half dazed, sitting up on the stretcher, mentioning an entirely different world. Investigations show no result for it, meaning you really must have come from a different world – which isn't entirely impossible. But it seems yours is a slightly different case.

Regardless, alhaitham still doesn't want trouble. Leaves you be with the matra to discuss and sort out your own situation for the most part.

And then you get assigned to work at the Akademiya.

Its temporary, just until you gain your bearings. And the higher-ups (ahem, Nahida), determine he's appropriate to look after you for a period of time. He's a pretty well-adjusted guy, doesn't bother much, and simple enough to not complicate things (you may protest regarding the kinds of books he reads, but to his standard, it is simple. Just don't bother with that.)

Regardless, he's now in charge of you.

He teaches you the main language Teyvat currently uses, or at least the main language talked in major parts of Sumeru. Stays with you after work hours from time to time to help you learn – but only in exchange for knowledge about your own world. He studies you – or rather your subjects, your culture, your languages. If he's teaching you, you have to appeal something to him, and of equal magnitude aswell. So for the most part, your time is spent trying to piece together how to get you back to your world, or simple cultural and linguistic discussions. Unless that isn't your thing; but you both can find a common ground even then, considering Alhaitham doesn't shy away from different areas of study.

It's only natural your bond progresses. You both go from "somewhere between acquaintances and strangers" to "might occasionally greet while passing by". It's not soon before some of the other higher ups approach you to help get a task done from him, since it always seems like he manages to evade them, going who knows where during his working hours. Maybe it's an important task that can't simply be left on his desk. But you're a bit of a special case - Alhaitham doesn't mind sharing a few details with you; as long as you can appropriately determine what is and isnt worth his time. So you somehow manage to find him and get things done.

Its a bit strange. There's only a few ever constants in his life when it comes to people, and doesn't expect much in return. But having you around is different. Having you around feels.. strangely understanding. Although he doesn't mind the solitude, a part of him has always felt secluded from the masses. And you seem to be stuck in a similar situation. It's only natural you two seem to stick together. It's natural. That's what he tells himself.

And then you start to fizzle out from his grasp.

You make new friends. Newer people who may or may not know about where you really might be from. You learn newer things, far beyond Alhaitham's scope (or rather, just his scope of teaching), you get involved with many, many, people, even get invited to events he doesn't. It hurts a bit when he sits silently at your usual table at the library, cozily tucked away from most prying eyes, sitting across where you should have been, but aren't. but he won't admit it. You did mention you're busy and might not be able to come. But something inside him twists the slightest bit.

And he will admit it– only to himself. He has no grasp on his judgement nor principle when he decides to destroy all your documents, leaving you to hopelessly and despairingly run around to somehow, someway, recover them, trying to revive all the information you earnestly gathered.

He begrudgingly gets up to attend the door in the middle of the night, almost regretting not having worn his headphones, when he stops thinking for a moment. Its you. Of course it is. The corner of his mouth threatens to twitch up, but he resists. He invites your shaking, teary form inside with silence and serves you some tea, before sitting down in front of you. It's almost funny how familiar the scene is – except this time you're alone much later at night with him, and this time you're so distressed you can barely get the words out before you break down.

And he takes care of you, silently. His large, warm hand soothingly rubs your back as he gives you space to cry and blubber out all your stresses, humming to let you know he's listening, tapping the saucer of the tea cup when you're sobbing a bit too heavy and need a break. It's enough to make you realize just who you really need to stick by. None of your friends would really care for you, would they? They're simply fascinated by the strange things you say. Alhaitham and you have a deeper connection, don't you think? Maybe if you're a bit of a romantic thinker yourself, he can twist his words just right enough to even imply you both must have been meant by fate to meet.

In the end, it all settles when you decide to sleep over, cancel your plans for the next day as you get ready to sort out your information with Alhaitham all over again. And this time, he can study you closely.

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blaydie · 22 days

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ᥫ᭡ Hidden Eyes — “Stop trying to deny it. You must understand that rest is essential to every form of life. You are no exception.” Jiaoqiu x GN reader.

Word count: 1.8k

Contains: Jiaoqiu x GN reader, fluff, subtle jealousy, protective Jiaoqiu (in a good, non-toxic way!), light teasing, clingy Jiaoqiu, kisses, long cuddles, Jiaoqiu taking care of reader, + more!

Rousing from your slumber with a pounding headache, you sit up in the unfamiliar environment and groan. No matter what you do to recall your previous whereabouts nothing comes to mind. A knitted blanket covers you, and your head is propped against a plush pillow. After batting your lashes a few times to clear the haze cast over your eyes, you are able to make out that you’re inside a living space of some sort.

Overhearing the shuffling in the other room, Jiaoqiu turns the heat down on the stove and saunters into your view, an apron snugly tied around his slim figure. He greets you with his usual friendly smile, now approaching your resting body. Crouching down, he presses his hand to your forehead, his tail swaying slowly behind.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop over-exhausting yourself?” He feigns disappointment, letting his breath breeze down onto your face.

“I haven’t done anything to be exhausted.”

“Stop trying to deny it. You must understand that rest is essential to every form of life. You are no exception.”

“But—”

“I ordered you to stay in bed and you go out on a date the next day. Don’t be ignorant.” He opens his eyes, glaring at you while his lips remain in that pleasant expression. Though his smile seems sweet, his gaze is a threat.

“A date?” You raise a brow, unaware you had gone out with another person, let alone left your house this morning.

“Hm?” Jiaoqiu cocks his head to the side, tapping his index finger against your cheek. “You don’t remember?”

“No. Who was I—”

“Never mind.” Jiaoqiu drags out his speech, squishing your face before standing up straight. “Your soup should be done!”

Jiaoqiu had always had an unsettling energy around him. Upon meeting him a few months ago, you had noticed his strange behaviour patterns, though no one else did. It may just be in your head; you have a common issue with judging new people in your life too harshly. Trusting a stranger takes a lot of effort, but since becoming acquainted with Moze, you realise that the image you crafted of Jiaoqiu may be a spout of nonsense. He has nothing bad to say about him, he praises his work ethic and commitment. For someone who always presents himself so content, there must be some facade in place.

It didn’t take long for you to become friends with both men. They were welcoming and extremely kind; even Feixiao had surprised you with her demeanour behind closed doors. Knowing you have a group of people to fall back on when things get rocky is reassuring. Having a person like Jiaoqiu in your life is a bigger benefit than it is a drawback. Your health is his main concern, making it clear that it should always be your priority above all else. It’s a topic he doesn’t deal with lightly.

With the steaming bowl of soup in hand, Jiaoqiu returns to his living space and kneels beside you. When you went to free your arms from the swaddle you’re in, he held you down, shaking his head. Raising the soup spoon, he brings it towards your lips, waiting for an opening.

“I’ll do this since you can’t follow simple instructions.” His tone was snappy, his ears flopping down while he rubbed the spoon against your closed lips. The smell of the soup was enticing, prepared to the standard of all of his other meals.

“I can feed—”

When you opened your mouth wide enough, he inserted the spoon and dumped the liquid in, grinning at you when you swallowed it. Since you are too tired to protest, you accept defeat and comply with his demands, drinking the soup as he feeds it to you.

“Is it tasty?” Jiaoqiu rubs his thumb over the small spill travelling down your jaw, licking the remnants from his fingers.

��It’s nice. You already know that.”

“The chef appreciates your compliments.” Jiaoqiu hums, stroking your face with two fingers.

Whether it be the heat of the soup or the tenderness in his touch, you felt yourself becoming warm. You began squirming under the blanket, the bowl of soup almost empty. After the final few spoonfuls, he places the leftovers on the coffee table and takes you into his arms. You whine, nuzzling your face into his chest.

“I know. You’ll be in bed soon.” He speaks quietly, trekking up the stairs and pushing his bedroom door open with his back.

Lowering you carefully, he lies you on the mattress and covers you over with the duvet. Undoing the bow on his apron, he tosses it into the laundry basket and climbs in beside you. Dragging you over, he wraps an arm around you and holds you in his embrace, his tail brushing up and down your leg in a soothing motion.

“Get some sleep. I’ll watch over you. We’ll see how you are in the morning.” His lips are pressed against your neck when he talks, the movement almost feeling as though he is pampering you with tender kisses. Perhaps he was, but you don’t feel the need to raise attention to it when it feels so good. Within seconds, you fall back into a deep slumber.

With your droopy head hanging low, he supports you with an arm and wraps himself around you, burying his nose into your flesh. Jiaoqiu loved your scent. It bothers him when you’re away for too long, always lingering on his mind. No matter what he does to replicate it, he can’t craft it to perfection. Burning different candles, sniffing perfumes you use—anything he could think of led to failure. It would explain why he’s been lingering around for longer than he would usually.

While his recent observations have been unknown to you, it grew increasingly harder for him to leave you alone. He would never want to scare you by admitting all of this—none of his actions carry ill intent. He simply believes you wouldn’t understand his reasoning due to you being human.

It was when you were at the food market that he noticed a shift in your scent. A smell of death. The day prior, you had received a rough blow to the head in battle which had left you tremendously dizzy. It took you two hours to stand, and even then you were still clinging onto his clothes for support. He gave you medicine and advice which seemed to go in one ear and slip out of the other. While with the dark-haired man who was accompanying you, you stumbled backwards and collapsed to the ground before he could catch you. That’s when Jiaoqiu decided to reveal himself from the shadows and usher you back to safety.

That barely present beat of your pulse was something he’ll never forget. He should’ve known you wouldn’t take your medicine; you’re usually one to forget things like that. You were ice cold in his arms, fingernails darkening to an almost navy shade. Seeing corpses was not uncommon, but seeing your corpse was something he knew he wouldn't be able to handle. He just wishes that you’d listen to him. While he’s not angry at you, it still upsets him that you disregard your health so easily like that. The warmth you radiate now brings him comfort; he keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, waiting there as time ticks throughout the evening.

Unsure of how many hours have gone by, you stretch out your legs and reach to rub your eyes, only to find another hand with its fingers linked between yours. Jiaoqiu’s soft breathing was directly down your ear, his hand squeezing yours as he mumbled something barely audible. You knew Jiaoqiu was touchy, but the position you found yourself in made you flustered.

“Morning…” He whispers, kissing the side of your face. His voice was raspy and his tail was still brushing against your skin.

“How long was I out?”

“Nearly eight hours. You slept through the entire night.” Even though you’re conversing, he doesn’t release you from the cuddle he trapped you in.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“To you? Yesterday?”

“Yes. Why am I here?”

“Mm, I saw you unconscious at the food market. Your dark-haired friend didn’t know what to do with you, so I told him I’d handle it.”

“Dan Heng?”

“How could I forget?” Jiaoqiu responds, his voice laced with sarcasm while he pulls you close. “I’ve heard a lot of that name from you.”

“Well, he—”

“I wasn’t asking to hear more.” Jiaoqiu nips you with his canines, earning a small yelp. “What I want to know is why you didn’t take your medicine. Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“I was going to take it when I got back home from shopping…”

“No. You take it at the time I tell you to. There are reasons behind it.”

“Did I make you mad?”

“I’m not angry; I was worried about you. I’m tired of seeing you push yourself to the side. You’re just as important as anyone else in your life. Other people can wait when you need to put your health first.”

His chest falls as he exhales, hurling you upwards to rest his lips on the top of your head.

“All I want you to do is listen. I’m not yelling at you.”

“I’ll listen. I promise.” You smile at him, watching as he closes his eyes from the relief of hearing those words. “You’re awfully clingy today.”

“I can’t help it. You made me sick with nerves; my emotions are not behaving as they should be.”

“Besides…” Jiaoqiu trails off, redirecting the topic of conversation. “If you’re going out for food, just come to me instead. I have the superior options.”

“You just want me to be around you so you can make sure I’m okay.”

“Is that such a bad thing? I thought you’d appreciate the fact I care for your well-being. And for your knowledge,” Jiaoqiu leans his face closer to yours, “I would’ve caught you before you hit the ground. Foxian reflexes are like no other.”

He pouts before connecting his lips with yours, sharing a brief peck momentarily until he backs off. His thumb rubs under your lower lip, his eyes widening as he sees your smile grow. Repositioning himself, he pushes down on you and engulfs you in his desire with another kiss.

It was both fiery and packed with raw emotion, his trembling hand stroking your cheek. You have no idea about the amount of dire situations you wind up in, but those near-death moments are something that will forever haunt him. As the kiss breaks, you feel his tail batting against your leg rapidly, his ears twitching from thrill.

“I have some more medical advice. Are you going to listen to it this time?”

“Tell me.”

“Based on my judgement, I think it would be best if you stayed here and got proper rest for the next few days. Cancel your plans and let me take care of you. You’ll be better before you know it.”

“You cancel for me.” You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone, “Hearing a doctor’s note directly from the source would cut the hassle.”

#💌 — writing pieces #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr fanfic #fluff #Animated divider: @/anitalenia #Art cred: Rebim_c (X)

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charnelhouse · 2 years

Text

safe house

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader Wordcount: 3.1k Warnings: semi public sex. rough smut. pain kink. size difference. ghost is a simp. sex on a couch. cum play Summary: “Kid,” he husks. “I wouldn’t give a shit if they all came in and watched.” Simon 'Ghost' Riley Masterlist

Of all the risky shit you've participated in, deciding to sit with Ghost post-mission takes the cake. Things just happen. Out of your control.

You can't not listen to him.

Even your teammates give you nervous glances when Simon barks at you to come see him for a "debrief."

You're screwed, lass.

Eat a dick, Soap.

So here you are, forced to brush shoulders with your hulking lieutenant while the others shower or scrape cold chili out of cans in the tiny safe house kitchen.

Everything is secure.

Ghost smells like fireworks. There’s snow still melting in his boots. He’s managed to remove all his gear aside from his gun on the coffee table, but he’s just as enormous. Burly. Rippling with that animal aggression, he can’t shake off after a mission.

“You should shower,” you suggest sweetly. You’d gotten first dibs, but you’d been unable to scrape off the blood wedged under your fingernails and mud crusted to your hairline like sea barnacles. You feel dirty, as if the job had left you withered and full of dust. There’s the particular flavor of guilt clinging to the underside of your mouth.

“You didn’t listen to a direct order,” Ghost utters in a voice so quiet it could flicker into smoke. He was screaming at you earlier, demanding that you return to him instead of toward the USB drive with the intel. Red Fox. You take one more bloody step, and I’ll suspend your ass.

“It would have been for nothing had we not gotten it,” you protest. Deny. Deny. Double down. Invent excuses, even though the scariest man alive is speaking to you like he may just break your neck.

He shifts on the couch. The sounds of your teammates seem very far away, although they’re only in the next room. Simon is angry, and it’s not the familiar hot-headed fury he favors. No. It’s chilling. He’s holding himself back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his gloveless fingers curl around the edge of the couch. They’re enormous hands. They can wrap entirely around your bicep, the nape of your neck, or the crown of your skull.

He leans back, thighs spread open, stealing space and shoving you toward the end of the couch without even moving a muscle.

“I’m sorry,” you offer rather pathetically. Your voice is audibly weary, utterly subservient. Ghost runs a tight fucking ship, and everything can collapse if you step a hair out of line.

He presses his arm against yours, lowering his head closer to your ear. “I don’t give a fuck.”

His hand finds your hip, and before you realize it, he’s got one arm banded around your chest while keeping you pinned to his front. Hee slides behind you until you’re both horizontal, your legs tangled together, his covered mouth puffing warm air against your jaw. You could be spooning if his embrace wasn’t so carved with aggression.

“You know it’s not about bloody fuckin’ orders,” he growls as he shoves your sweats down your thighs.

“Wha-”

You choke on a gasp as the muscular forearm around your cotton-covered tits squeezes, sealing you into him until you can’t budge an inch. You can hear him fumbling with the button on his pants. There’s blood on his boots. The denim and his sweatshirt irritate your bare skin. You’re damp from your shower, and he’s coated in a thin film of battle. “Simon,” you warn. “They’ll - they’ll come in.”

Unbothered, he continues, and you can feel him, heavy and hot against your lower back. “What did I tell you?” he mutters into your hair. “Before we left...when I had you on your knees?”

Your mind is sprinting on overdrive. The blood rushing under your skin is flaring to an almost unbearable heat. Yesterday morning? You’d snuck into the bathroom with Simon...gotten on the cold tile floor, and sucked him off until he’d nearly punched a hole in the cheap plaster wall. He’d been surprised. It’s not like you hadn’t screwed before, but anytime you ever gave him pleasure when it was only about him, he’d get totally weird.

Like he didn’t deserve it even though he -

Without warning, he breaches you with a thick finger. You bite down on your lower lip, swallowing a grunt. Your sweats are caught around your knees, and his tree trunks for legs spread you open and stretched like you’re latched into an intricate web. He lazily thrusts into your soaked cunt, drawing his finger out to the tip before sinking it back to the knuckle.

“Jesus, Riley,” you moan, and the arm across your breasts lifts just enough so he can cover your mouth with his hand.

“What did I say, love?”

Your brain isn’t working. Your entire focus has narrowed to the overwhelming sensation of him finger-fucking you from behind. It is a rare show on his part. It’s risky, but Simon Riley is a super soldier, and his hyper-fixation is now firmly on the task of ruining you.

He lowers the hand from your lips to allow you to speak.

“Swallow it?” you try, and he pauses before an unsettling, baritone noise reverberates within his massive chest and he withdraws his finger only to bury two inside you.

You jerk, keeping silent but dangerously on the brink of a damn orgasm. You’re drenched, and Ghost’s slow, drawn-out movements squelch with every perfunctory pump of his hand.

You can feel the hard shell of his mask against the crown of your head. “You’re going to be the death of me, kid,” Ghost sighs.

He sounds...exasperated. Perhaps, you had, admittedly, fucked up. You shouldn’t have done it. You should have listened to him. Escape had been narrow and made even more narrow by you wasting precious seconds to grab the intel. Even if Ghost had the countenance of a bull shark, he cared more than most. He was staunchly loyal. He wouldn’t lose people under his watch.

But you aren’t just people.

Fuck buddy? Sure.

More than that?

You weren’t entirely oblivious to how he touched you outside their secret trysts. His gaze lingered, his presence curled around you like an oversized shadow.

What had he said yesterday morning?

“Stay alive,” he husked as his palm enveloped the top of your skull, those sleepy, ink-filled eyes searching yours. His thumb traced your cheek as you rested the side of your face against his thigh. The salt of him coated your throat, the nape of your neck still tingled from his iron grip when he finished in your mouth. “Please.”

Gingerly, you tug an arm free to grasp the hand silencing you. You pull it away, and Ghost, Simon, allows it. Shooting him a desperate, aching glance over your shoulder, you press your lips to his fingertips. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. “I’ll stay alive for you.”

You give his words back, hoping it’s enough.

See? I was listening. I was listening as you throat-fucked me.

Pleased, he murmurs your name as he presses closer before you force two of his fingers into your mouth and suck. He goes rigid, and the other set of fingers inside you become still as if he’s trying to assess this startling development and figure out the next strategy. It is only a moment, a few seconds, and then he draws away from your cunt to grasp the underside of your thigh. He eases it up before shifting his hips forward, and there he is: his thick, unforgiving length crudely gliding through your folds. The pleasure comes in bursts. Tiny pricks. Stars. Each time the head of his cock grazes your clit, it sends sparks unfurling in your belly. You shove your ass back into him, demanding and needy.

You started this, you want to say when you know he’d turn it around with: You did when you didn’t fucking listen.

His hand returns to your hip, his thumb rubbing small, tight circles into the flesh. “Desperate, are we?” His voice is rough - all gravel and artillery smoke and so low it sweeps like a tongue against the seam of your pussy. “I thought you were scared the others would see us?”

You release his fingers with a slick pop, and he, once again, wraps his forearm around your chest in order to anchor you to him. You can just imagine the scene the team would walk in on.

Ghost, fully clothed, with his tattooed arm snug around your tits. You’re in a flimsy tank top with your sweats tangled around your knees. His mask-covered face is notched over your shoulder. To anyone, he’d look untouched while you were ruined. Bare thighs glistening with your own arousal. Humiliating.

“Do you care?”

He chuckles, and it vibrates against your back. “Kid,” he husks. “I wouldn’t give a shit if they all came in and watched.”

You shiver, involuntarily clenching around nothing. “Right,” you croak as you feel his hips draw back again, the fingers holding your thigh in the air, are digging into your skin. Blunt nails. Dirt. “Because...because then they’d know I’m yours.”

That must do something to him because he sucks in a breath and suddenly, without hesitation, slides into you until his groin is nestled against your ass. You black-out. Your vision swims and blurs until you can’t distinguish between the dark fireplace and the shitty armchairs. His cock is too big. That’s a stone-cold fact. The first time he’d fucked you had been more than a challenge. He’d prepared you with his tongue, fingers, spit and lube you filched from Soap, but it had still been difficult.

He’s breathing steadily as his heart thumps against your back. His hand falls to your stomach, where he can, undoubtedly, feel the head of his cock nudging one of your internal organs. You feel full - crammed to the brim and feverish. Sweat collects at your hairline as you endure the pressure of him inside you. The girth. The weight. Every time Ghost fucks you, it’s a lesson in endurance. He can go for hours, and you take it like his well-trained soldier. The two of you are an HR nightmare.

You squeak when Ghost presses his balaclava-covered mouth to your neck. “Good girl,” he soothes, clucking his tongue. “Good girl...just take it like you are. Fuckin’ perfect.”

Well-endowed fuck.

It’s only painful in a good way. Your body accommodates him, allowing him to squeeze an inch deeper as his hand slides down from your belly to your clit. He presses it gently before drawing circles. He retreats, his cock dragging through your walls until he’s halfway out before he plunges back in. The pace is unhurried. He’s grinding into you as if he’s savoring every part of your pussy. He cups your tits, grasps your throat, and explores the sensitive flesh stretched around his enormous shaft.

You’re never having anal.

Unless he asked really nicely.

“I want to mark you,” he muses through long, deliberate strokes. “If I come in that lovely cunt, you’d keep me in there, yeah?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately, even though you sound like you’ve been drowned and spit back onto the beach. You’re so sick with him, overwhelmed and a little in love and how did this fucking happen? “Anything you want, Luitenant.”

He delivers a sharper thrust that nearly propels you off the couch, but his grasp on your waist is unforgivable. His strength. His presence. He smells like sweat and packed dirt and a forest fire. “You’re bloody obedient when I’ve got my cock in you.”

Obviously.

“I know,” you murmur as you bite your lip again when he strikes something tender. He’s rubbing your clit in time with every snap of his hips, dick pistoning inside you as your lower muscles buckle, your thighs quivering as your pleasure hangs precariously over a steep drop. His legs wedge yours open, keeping your cunt spread as he manipulates your body like one of his precious guns. If I move this, what will this do? Let me make it better.

“I’m so - so fucking easy,” you slur.

“No,” he grits as his pelvis begins to stutter against your ass, his breathing ragged. “No, you’re the most difficult thing I’ve ever had beneath me - ever - ever had to fuckin’ handle.”

God - that has double meanings. You’re his subordinate. You’re his lover. You’re on your knees for him, but it goes both ways. It had been Ghost who had turned the lights off the first time and removed his mask. He’d trusted you enough to shut your eyes and let him lick your pussy until you were in tears.

I wouldn’t look, Riley. That’s something I won’t take unless you give it.

You had felt his face, though. In the pitch blank, you had touched his full lips, the defined lines of his cheekbones. You’d felt his thick, silky hair and the bumps of various scars.

You feel sexy.

You’re trying to butter me up.

The sounds from the kitchen startle you. The men are taunting each other. A pan clatters. The volume turns up, and you suddenly realize that you and Ghost are making quite a bit of noise. The couch is creaking. Your cunt indecently squelches with every spear of his cock. He’s grunting into your hair, the skin at his groin smacking the full flesh of your ass as he bottoms out.

“They’re going to hear us,” you warn. You’re on the cusp of exploding, breaking into fragments.

“They probably already do,” he quips before fucking you harder. Your hand flies up to clutch at his burly forearm, your other hand rises higher to grasp the back of his head. You want his hair, you want to fist it and hurt him just a little. “Easy, love,” he urges. “Relax...relax...you’re getting too tense.”

He’s right. Your orgasm has fluttered away because now you’re fully aware that your teammates have probably created a racket to drown out their Lieutenant, their stiff, cold enigma of a Lieutenant, railing their comrade into the couch.

“Focus, kid,” he orders bluntly as if he was chastising you on a mission. He ducks his head and nuzzles your cheek to coax you back into his fold. “They won’t come in,” he drawls in a low, piercing rumble. “They won’t say a goddamn word because they know I’d murder every one of them if they tried ripping me away from this cunt.”

Holy. Fuck.

Everything has climbed up your throat. Your head is on backward. The pressure of his cock, his fingers on your clit, and his massive body wrapped around your own is causing the air to crackle.

“Simon,” you gasp as he readjusts his grip and forces you forward. He shifts his hips so he’s thrusting down, and it’s impossible to know when he’ll be done. He rides your ass until his pace falters and his cock twitches and throbs before he abruptly settles, douses out the fire, and continues at a more even, lazy rhythm.

“I need you to come for me, darling,” he encourages softly. It’s dipped in a tenderness that surprises you. His voice remains deep and gruff, but there’s a gentleness behind it. You’ve never seen his face, and the intimacy with which he handles you is nothing you have ever experienced. It is too much.

Ghost gives you his history in patches. There are brief moments where finishes and rolls off you, and you both just stare at the ceiling, fingers brushing in the dark. “There’s this pub by the Irwell that I think you’d fancy,” he remarks. “Jesus knows if it’s still around, but I reckon you’d like it.”

It’s not just sex. This is not just sex at all.

Stay alive.

Please.

You know it’s not about bloody fuckin’ orders.

Simon is coaxing you into your climax. He’s buried so deep that you can feel the tip of him nudge against your womb. You feel swollen and raw, and his muscles twitch against you. You’re throbbing like an open wound as he maneuvers your ragdoll body on his cock. It should be overwhelming, but his fearsome rough voice is full of yearning when he motivates you to find your pleasure.

The tang of your climax builds until there’s nowhere else for it to go. It roars forward, jolting through your limbs as it forces you to curl into a fetal position, but Simon is right there. He holds you in place, his mask grazing your cheek. “C’mon, love,” he says. “That’s it. Good girl.”

As his palm clamps over your mouth, you erupt, and you bathe his cock in your climax. Hot and flooded as the punch of a tropical storm. “Bite me,” Ghost demands, instinctively thrusting into your soaked, fluttering heat. “Do what you need, love. Take it out on me.”

He groans when your teeth nip his palm. You bite harder, and he nearly chokes.

You don’t understand how this has gone from him enraged to riding you to a full gallop to allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. As he fucks you through it, jamming into the searing, wet clutch of your spasming sex, he hits his end. His hands on you tighten as he makes a deep, grating noise from his chest, filling you up. It’s warm and somewhat soothing. Shuddering, Ghost has to brace his arm on the couch to keep himself from collapsing on top of you.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters as he buries his face into your neck. “Jesus.”

He slips out, and there is only emptiness. You’re aching and sore, and he pets at your cunt, pressing his come deeper so it doesn’t drip. You shift onto your side to face him, his hand still nestled against your pussy, his eyes black and heavy-lidded as they regard you with subtle affection.

“Keep me in there,” he reminds you.

Hesitantly, you snag the edge of his black ski mask and slowly lift it. He stops breathing, his heart beginning to thump wildly as his gaze widens. However, he doesn’t stop you, and it’s a test you predicted.

“Red,” he warns. Your call sign. The bite of his authority rippling between you.

You hitch the mask just a centimeter above his top lip. You sit up awkwardly, your sweats still knotted around your knees, your lower half gone to jello. You grasp his stubbled jaw and kiss him tenderly. He stiffens, making a startled noise in the back of his throat before he decidedly returns it, licking into the cavern of your mouth as he forces you onto your back and wedges himself between your legs. The pointed edge of his skull mask digs into the top of your cheek, but you’re past caring. You can feel his cock filling against the crease of your thigh.

Again? You can’t go again. You’d surely split in half.

“Don’t worry,” he says as if he can read your mind. “I just want this.”

Just this. The couch, the safe house, and their teammates only a room away.

He breathes against your mouth, the sliver of his secret skin scratching your own. You nudge your thumb along a scar and kiss him harder.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #cod mwii #cod mw22 #cod mw fanfiction #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley x female reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #modern warefare 2

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magicdustsworld · 1 month

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Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader; tw - Fellatio, cum swallowing, adultery; divider credits - @saradika-graphics

Imagine sucking off Yakuza boss!Sukuna while he is on a call.

Forced down to your knees, red tongue darting out to swirl over his frenulum—eliciting a lewd groan from him. Sukuna peers down at you, a corner of his lip curling up into a provocative sneer while maroon gaze scorches with an erotic desire.

"Yeah and? mhmm... what the fuck did Masume say?"

Holding the phone with his left hand, he brings up the pointer of his right to his lips—gesturing you to keep it low. (As if he really wants that?) You return his gaze with a leacherous one of your own—an invitation cum challenge he recognizes all to well. You pass a smirk and not a second later, you're eagerly accepting the glans penis inside your mouth. Lapping up at the tip, you proceed downwards, coating his entire cock with your saliva before readily sucking him off.

Sukuna's attention is allegedly on the call at hand. A blissful expression clouds over his eyes s he hums and murmurs curses under his breath while speaking to— whoever the fuck it is. However, as you go down on his cock, bopping your head in a to and fro motion, all to please him like a good girl, he just seems to not notice it. Taking it for granted, is he? Unknowingly, you scoff under your breath, trails of his musky precum settling on your tongue; you gulp them without much of a second thought.

You look up again and the same sight greets you. Yes, you know it may be an important call and you know you shouldn't do it. You still do it.

Your teeth grazes over his prepuce.

"Ngh Fuck– Huh? Nothing, just uh, don't worry. Whatcha' saying again?"

He glares at you, threading his fingers through your luscious strands; he tugs them back firmly. Mouth filled with cock, your protest only comes off as a jumbled mess. Leaning down, momentarily he retracts the phone from his ear, "Do this shit properly or this will be the last thing you'll be sucking." Said so, he is back to his call.

The threat lingers in the air—he isn't lying. You know. Countless times you have seen him snap the string of someone's life without an exchange of words. The grip of his Beretta M9 peaks out of his pocket, the looming peril and the sheer power he holds over you in this situation(and all the others) making itself stark clear. Despite the eminent danger oozing off of his body language, the thrill of it all sends a pulse to your core.

You clamp your legs tighter, the fabric of your panties brushing with your clitoris. Regardless, the warning does the job and as much of a desperate whore you can be for the man above you, you still want to watch and experience this charade play out.

Besides, you already got his attention, didn't you?

Gaze fixated on you, with both pair of teeth out in a menacing display akin to a ravenous beast being served, he watches you. You move your head back and forth, aiming to just give him a stellar fellatio while your cunt starts to drip with wanton need. You nibble on his his foreskin, forcing more of his girth inside your hot cavern, the wet muscle licking over the glans—raunchy moans escalating from you.

"Got over with– Ah shit! Where did you learn that? Wasn't speaking to you, just some maggots."

Seriously, maggots?

You deserve something more than that. However, before you can retract yourself from his cock, Sukuna’s strength comes to play. He, quite literally, forces you down on his cock till your smeared mulberry tinted lips wrap around his base. He buckles his hip, fucking your face on his own as he sets a relentless pace making tears to spring up your eyes. His cock head reaches so far and so deep that it hits your uvula. Manicured nails digging into the fabric of his pants, you try to balance yourself on your knees—task proving to be futile.

Guttural moans start to escape Sukuna as well. Struggling either to make sense of the speaker or let himself find reprieve with the way your mouth welcomes him.

The latter seems to win by a large mark.

"Heard ya' the first time, what the ahh– shit! You little minx," A smirk curves up his lips, forehead creasing as the product of erotigenic act knots in the pit of his stomach. "Fuck– wasn’t talking to you, bitch. Hang up."

No sooner he utters the last two words, the phone is discarded on the leather couch. He cages you in his grasp, lascivious noises releasing from him as the sweatbeads start to cling and drip down. The acrid smell of arousal and the squelching sound of mouth meeting flesh reverberates through the corners of his office.

His cock twitches in your mouth, your eyes have only partially widened when he is shooting thick ropes of cum down your throat. He holds you his place, tip of nose, pressing against his pubes till you swallow each and every seed he has to offer; something you find yourself doing alike second nature.

His grip loosens and you retract your mouth from his cock with a pop sound. A string of saliva connects your glistening lips with his cock. Trails of ecstasy running down your lips—Sukuna, extends his hands, gently wiping it away with his thumb. An act proving to be a stark contrast to the names he called you while he was bullying your throat.

With name calling, something flickers in your mind...

"Who was that?"

"Don't you wanna know?" He snickers, grabbing you by the bicep as he pulls you up on his lap so you're left to straddle him. "Just my dumb wife filling me on what she did today."

#sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #magic!writes

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 2 months

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Aaah, look at that, some more headcanons no one asked for but that I will be subjecting everyone to anyway.

Was in the process of trying not to hack up a lung when I started this, so logical train of thought went to how our One Piece boys handle being sick.

May do a sister-post of how they handle it when you’re sick, too. But. Like. Not right now.

Anyway here we gooooo

Sick Day

Zoro, Sanji, Shanks, Sir Crocodile, Mihawk, Buggy x Reader

SFW! Very fluff! Much cringe!

Wordcount: Like 1.6k-ish

Warnings also include very fluff and much cringe, but not much else. All character x reader relationships are implied to be already established and consensual.

If you enjoy my content, feel free to drop a donation in my ko-fi. My financial situation is quite unstable right now and anything is helpful.

Zoro

“Look, I’m fine, alright? Just...lay off.”

Insisting he is absolutely not sick right from the start, only reason he looks so flushed is because he’s been training harder than usual.

And also because you’re irritating him stop saying he’s sick, dammit—

You’re not going to be able to get him to rest until he literally collapses, hopefully not directly onto the business end of one of his katana.

For someone who enjoys napping so much, he’s still adamant that he does not need to lay down.

Once you finally manage to get him shoved into his preferred hammock he’s going to turn into a clingy baby.

Convincing him to take any medicine would take an act of god. Most he’ll let you do is drape a damp cloth over his forehead.

Which does feel nice, and does calm down most of his protest.

After that he’s going to drag you in with him and use you as a human teddy bear, where you will likely be forced to remain while he sleeps it off.

Sanji

“Well, of course I don’t want to contaminate the food, love, but I don’t want anyone burning my kitchen to the ground either—”

He’s usually awake before anyone else to make breakfast, so you’re concerned from the moment you wake up and find the kitchen empty.

Even more concerned when you find him still in bed, face flushed, grimacing and shivering in his sleep.

Barely wakes up and manages a weak smile when you sit at the edge of the mattress, a contented little sigh when you lay your palm across his forehead.

Admits he might be a little under the weather.

Briefly lapses into panic when he realizes what time it is, immediately trying to get up and go handle breakfast—

All you have to do is give him a firm poke in the chest and he just falls right back into bed, pouting a bit when you point out he could contaminate the food and get the entire crew sick.

Gazing up at you like you’re some sort of celestial being when you assure him you’ll take care of it, and that you’ll make sure no one burns down the kitchen in his absence.

He’s already asleep again when you return with a bowl of miso with rice, but when you set them to the side and sit at the edge of the bed to feel his forehead, he immediately shifts over, drapes an arm across your lap and lays his head there, with a contented sigh and smile.

You’re trapped now. Good luck escaping.

Shanks

“Oh, I’ll be fine, beautiful, you don’t need to make such a fuss over it.”

He plays it off so well that it takes you a while to notice anything is amiss.

There are a couple hints. He’s just not quite as chipper and animated as he usually is, lazing around and looking a bit sour about something, a bit distracted.

Tries to brush it off as a hangover when you ask.

Heavy sigh and defeated pouting when you press your lips to his forehead and inform him he’s burning up.

Lamenting that he doesn’t want to be sick, it will surely sort itself out if he just ignores it.

Maybe a little booze to burn it out of his system—

Pouting only intensifies when you confiscate every bottle you can find in the captain’s cabin, and step out to hand it off to Beckman and explain the situation like he wasn’t already aware, you swear these two have some kind of psychic link

Immediate puppy dog eyes when you return, you’re literally so mean to him how could you, you wound him.

He will only consider forgiving this clear act of mutiny if you agree to get in bed and be his pillow until he’s on his feet again.

Preferably with fewer clothes than you’re wearing at the present.

You’re already rolling your eyes and dressing down as he continues his overly dramatic lamentations.

He’s really too drained and tired to do anything apart from roll over and use your chest as a pillow, draping his arm across your shoulder and combing his fingers against your hair.

Nuzzling down and letting out a contented sigh, commenting with a little smirk that maybe he should fall ill more often.

Sir Crocodile

“I’m not clearing my entire schedule over a runny nose, darling, just leave me be.”

In the foulest of moods about being sick.

Yes, he’s aware his face looks like a tomato, thank you for pointing that out, brat.

No, he is not going to rest, he doesn’t have time to be sick, and if you so much as think of suggesting he put out his cigar—

You’re not going to have any luck in convincing him otherwise, nor any choice but to leave his stubborn ass alone in his office and stealthily check on him every so often.

You can only let out a weary sigh when you find him slumped over his desk hours later, half-conscious and drenched in sweat because he won’t take off that damned fur-lined coat.

You practically have to drag him to the bathroom to get him into a lukewarm bath to help bring down his fever, and he’s still complaining through the whole process about how he doesn’t have time for this nonsense.

Your offer to help finish his paperwork while he recuperates is met with an immediate growl of protest.

Like hell you are. No, if he has to suffer through this pointless ice-bath then you’re getting in with him. He will not be accepting any arguments on the matter.

It’s definitely best to just undress and not protest, as he’s going to pick you up and hold you back against his chest while he gets in whether you’re still clothed or not.

Letting out a low, somewhat weak, still incredibly smug chuckle when you shiver and shift closer to him in the water, wrapping an arm tight around your waist to prevent you from escaping any time soon.

Finally letting out a sigh and laying his head back against the tile wall behind him, admitting to himself (but definitely not to you) that you might be right, and it might not be the worst idea to clear his schedule for at least a day.

Mihawk

“That wasn’t a cough, I was simply clearing my throat. Don't be a pest.”

Only initial signs you’ll have that he’s ill are that he’s somehow napping even more than usual, and he’s more snippy than usual.

It’s not long before his pale complexion makes it clear that he’s feverish, the slightest signs of flushed skin and dark circles under his eyes immediately noticeable.

Rolls his eyes when you mention it and brushes it off, perhaps he just had a bit too much wine last night.

Glares at you any time he sneezes or coughs, like he’s just daring you to say something about it.

It’s allergies. Or it’s this-damned-old-castle-is-too-drafty. Or it’s nothing, stop looking at him like that, he doesn’t get sick, you’re the one who’s being ridiculous about this.

Your best bet at getting him to rest is going to be convincing him that you want to take a nap.

Yes, with him.

Yes, now, unless he has some important plans other than flipping through the newspaper and being impossibly stubborn for the rest of the day.

Your commentary earns you another roll of his eyes, but...well, maybe he is just a bit tired. And he might have a bit of a headache—the latter of which he will be attributing entirely to your badgering.

Still insisting you’re being ridiculous when you shove him into bed and proceed to wipe a damp cloth across his brow, glaring daggers at you when you chide him for acting like an overgrown toddler.

Assures you there will be repercussions for your insolence…at least there will be once he—resigned sigh, rolling eyes—isn’t feeling so under the weather.

That’s as close to an admission as you’re going to get.

Buggy

“I fear these may be our final days together, my dearest! Please remember me fondly--”

Can you not see that he is literally dying??

He is not long for this world, please retrieve a pen and a pad of paper posthaste to take down his last will and testament, everything is fading, he can see the light approaching—

You make use of his lamenting monologue as an opportunity to shove a thermometer in his mouth, more than used to his theatrics, patting him on the head as he stares up at you like you’ve committed some unspeakable crime by interrupting him.

He doesn’t get sick often, he has a fairly strong constitution, but oh boy when he does…

No objections at all to being waited on hand and foot. You don’t really have any issue with it either, he’d do the same for you.

And likely will have to within the next few days—as clingy as he gets, you’re definitely going to end up catching whatever he has.

Oh! but he would give an arm and a leg to be in good health again and so help you if he removes any limbs for a stupid joke you’re going to beat him with them.

Pouting and sniffling at your obviously idle threat, even as you pet his hair and he lays dramatically across your lap.

He’s already on his deathbed how dare you.

At least his sense of humor is still intact. Or he’s delirious with fever. Perhaps both.

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