#how much of that is what he thought she needed to say to stay alive and how much is what he had always wanted to say
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)
Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
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Present Day *Reader POV*
The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.
Mentally or physically.
As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.
I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.
Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.
Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.
You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.
When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.
Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.
Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.
What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.
Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me?
The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.
As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.
You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.
Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.
You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.
"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.
"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.
"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"
"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.
"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.
"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.
Well, guess he's afraid of me now.
"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.
You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.
"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.
"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.
Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.
"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”
"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry, 'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."
"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.
"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.
"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.
You weren't afraid of him.
"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.
Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.
You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.
You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.
Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.
Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.
"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.
Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.
Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.
He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.
Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.
Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.
"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.
"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”
There goes the dam.
Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”
"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.
"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"
"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.
Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.
How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?
"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."
"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.
"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.
"No." He towers over you.
"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.
"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.
You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.
"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."
Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.
Join the club kid.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.
"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."
"It's not true."
"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."
"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.
"Damn." Hughie echoes.
"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.
"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."
"Y/n-" He growls.
"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”
“Y/n-“
"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.
Hughie flinches.
"Like what?" Ben exclaims.
"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.
"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.
"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
"Yes I do."
"Please stop talking."
"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"
"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.
"They're not my friends."
"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”
"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.
“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall, at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper.
"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.
"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"
"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.
"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.
"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.
"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.
"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.
"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay? It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"
“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."
He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.
"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”
He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.
You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.
If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?
You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."
No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.
"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”
He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.
“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“
"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.
"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.
You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.
But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.
“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again. I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”
"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.
“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”
"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.
"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.
How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.
Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.
So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.
Because it’s got to one day right?
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*Soldier Boy POV*
He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.
He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.
Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.
He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-
Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?
He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.
When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night.
The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.
How could I fuck this up this much?
Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?
Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.
The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him.
Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.
He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.
Ben wasn't planning on leaving and even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.
He would never leave you again.
The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.
Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.
The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"
"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"
"Lavender?"
"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.
Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.
Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.
“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.
“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.
“Sure.”
The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.
“I said a phone-“
“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.
“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.
The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.
“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.
Legend answers on the first ring.
“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”
“Somewhere.”
“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
******************************************
N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.
Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @abramswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit
#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x female reader#jensen ackles soldier boy#soldier boy#soldier boy/ben#the boys#jensen ackles#soldier boy fic#billy butcher#the boys amazon#hughie campbell#the boys fanfic#jackles#the boys season 3#the boys series#the boys tv#the boys s3
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Hello Good Queen Alysanne, I have a few questions about Gerold Lannister. Why do you think he and Rohanne Weber eventually got married, given that the latter didn't initially consider him as a suitable suitor?
Do you think Gerold had a hand in the death of his niece Cerelle?
Is there any textual evidence that suggests he had an influence on Tywin, given that both of them appear to be politically astute?
Long, more under the cut:
With respect to why Rohanne married Gerold after Eustace’s death, I think it’s important to keep in mind that Rohanne was already attracted to Gerold during the time of “The Sworn Sword”:
[“]Were I given to wagering, I should place my gold on Gerold Lannister. He has yet to put in an appearance, but they say he is golden-haired and quick of wit, and more than six feet tall … [sic]”
"… [sic] and Lady Webber is much taken with his letters." The lady in question stood in the doorway, beside a homely young maester with a great hooked nose. "You would lose your wager, good-brother. Gerold will never willingly forsake the pleasures of Lannisport and the splendor of Casterly Rock for some little lordship. He has more influence as Lord Tybolt's brother and adviser than he could ever hope for as my husband.["]
Now, during the events of “The Sworn Sword”, I could see where Rohanne might have thought Gerold was not ideally suited to be her husband, especially given what she needed on a politico-dynastic level at that moment. Rohanne’s primary concern was not simply to marry, but to marry a husband who would help her maintain the delicate political position she occupied. As both a ruler in her own right and the heiress of her father’s very specific will, Rohanne needed a husband who would be both willing to serve as consort to her as lady regnant of Coldmoat and available as a spouse when the second anniversary of Lord Wyman’s death passed. Gerold might have inherited all the Lannister wit and good looks, and might have written Lady Webber some charming letters, but as Rohanne wryly noted to the septon, Gerold seemed to have little incentive to leave Casterly Rock to become her lord husband, especially in the short time she had left at that moment to remarry. If Rohanne believed that she could not lure Gerold Lannister away from the Rock, much less in a very timely fashion, then I think she concluded that Gerold was not a good choice to be the next Mr. Webber, so to speak, no matter how much Rohanne might have personally liked him.
However, after Ser Eustace’s death, Rohanne may have felt quite differently about her position and her nuptial future. The terms of her father’s will dictated that Rohanne be wed by the second anniversary of Lord Wyman's death, and by strict definition, Rohanne had done just that: with the second anniversary of her father's passing occurring within “the next new moon” of the septon’s conversation with Dunk, Rohanne had definitively become a married woman by the deadline of the will. If Ser Eustace had then died sometime thereafter, there may not have been much cousin Wendell or Lord Rowan could have done to assert the will’s provisions in their favor; after all, nothing in the will, so far as we know, said Rohanne’s husband on the day of that anniversary had to stay alive for a set amount of time after that date. Rohanne was now (seemingly) unquestionably, (seemingly) irrevocably, Lady of Coldmoat for the rest of her mortal span - still subject, of course, to all the sexist and patriarchal prejudices of Westerosi society, but free to marry without the shadow of the will hanging over her.
In that sense, a romance with Gerold - and I do tend to think it was a romance, Septon Sefton seemed to catch onto a real and mutual sense of personal attraction there - might have appealed to Rohanne at that place in her life. She who had been married five times, never apparently (or certainly primarily) for love, now could think first of herself, as a person, when it came to the question of a future marriage, secure as she was (or ever would be) in the question of her ancestral holding. If one of the richest and most powerful lords of the realm still wanted to marry her after Eustace’s death (and Gerold was probably Lord of Casterly Rock himself by that time, given that his niece Cerelle died in 213 AC, within two years of Rohanne's marriage to the aged Eustace), perhaps Rohanne believed he must have been truly in love with her, rather than just her title and castle. No longer as anxious, perhaps, about keeping a firm grip on Coldmoat lest it be wrenched away from her, Rohanne may have felt more free to consider a marriage that would inevitably take her away for significant periods of time from the Reach (and may have felt consoled by the fact that Gerold as a lord husband would be a pretty intimidating figure for her ostensible Rowan overlords). Already having been attracted to Gerold for some time, finally free to marry as she chose, secure in her holding (or, again, as much as she could be as a woman ruling in her own right) and perhaps believing that Gerold loved her for herself, Rohanne I think was ready after the death of Eustace Osgrey to marry Gerold in a way she hadn’t been when the events of “The Sworn Sword” occurred.
As far as Cerelle goes, I tend to think no, Gerold did not murder her. Unlike, say, Viserys II, who I definitely believe murdered nephew Baelor (in what GRRM may portray as an internal character conflict for Viserys), I don’t see the motivation for Gerold to do the same to his niece. As regent for a toddler lady regnant, Gerold already held all the power in the Westerlands, and would do so for at least the next decade, if not considerably longer. Where Prince Viserys was, perhaps, constrained, and frustrated, by the will of an adult, male, very much self-assured kingly nephew, Gerold had a free hand as Lady Cerelle’s regent for every legal, military, and diplomatic decision made in the Westerlands, and would for the long foreseeable future (and indeed, there would be aspects to Cerelle’s rule as Lady of the Rock, that Gerold, as her nearest male relation, would likely always have (until and unless she had a husband or son), like the position of Warden of the West). Rather, I think we are supposed to see Gerold and Rohanne as parallels here: just as Rohanne was wrongly suspected for the deaths of some of her husbands and her children (although two of those deaths were very naturally explained by Rohanne herself), so Gerold was, I think, wrongly suspected of the deaths of his brother and niece for what may have been (especially in the case of his niece) the simple bad luck of a physically perilous pseudo-medieval world like Westeros. I certainly could see that shared unhappy experience drawing Gerold and Rohanne together; conversely, I cannot see Rohanne, who fought so hard to assert herself as Lady of Coldmoat in her own right, falling in love with a man she might have reasonably suspected murdered his liege lady-niece to become a lord himself.
As far as Tywin goes, it’s important to note that Tywin never knew his grandfather in the latter’s own lifetime: while baby Tywin supposedly bit grandfather Gerold’s finger upon their first meeting, Gerold died when Tywin was only two. Consequently, Gerold was probably more known to Tywin by his reputation, and perhaps increasingly by his legend. As the rule, or misrule, of Tytos Lannister continued, and Lannister authority in the Westerlands imploded, perhaps Tywin looked back nostalgically to the days of “Gerold the Golden”, the intelligent, shrewd, able lord who “greatly increas[ed] the wealth of House Lannister, the power of Casterly Rock, and the trade at Lannisport” (much as, say, I think various generations of Targaryens have looked back to Jaehaerys I as a sort of ideal king presiding over a golden age for the dynasty). This, so Tywin may have thought, was the sort of lord the Westerlands needed - not his, Tywin’s, weak, genial, overly generous father, but his strong, confident, capable grandfather. Too, with young Tywin serving as a page and cupbearer at the court of King Aegon V - a king who had ascended the throne in no small part thanks to the arguments, and the gold, of Gerold Lannister - I could see where Tywin might have seen his grandfather embodying a much better relationship between House Lannister and the crown than his father did: while in the west Lord Tytos was bungling the rule of his domain so badly that King Aegon V had to send in his own knights multiple times to keep order, at court Tywin might have been hearing courtiers’ nostalgic stories of the great Lord Gerold who had not only kept peace in the west but whose generosity with word and coin had given the king his crown. While we don’t know much about the specifics of Gerold’s rule, and so don’t know what he did in particular that Tywin may have sought to echo or recreate, I can certainly believe that Tywin wanted to model himself, to some extent, on his grandfather for his, Tywin’s, rule as the future Lord of Casterly Rock.
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ogfoofodoxx thinking about how the most defining character trait of haymitch is how protective he is. not in the sense it's the most obvious, but how all of his actions are fueled by this desire to protect. how hard he works at keeping katniss alive in the first games, him fighting to keep them from augmenting katniss's body, him yelling at plutarch to keep finnick from having to share his trauma, him being so involved in peeta's recovery and being the one to bring katniss home. him holding mayslee's hand as she died, fighting for plutarch to stay and rescue peeta, being the one to find katniss and finnick when johanna had an episode, begging coin to believe peeta's warning. it being heavily implied or either outright stated that he was one of the people who fought to protect effie.
makes me physically ill because no one does that for him. everyone who would of, died.
#DIES EXPLODES COMBUSTS#thg#haymitch abernathy#:v#haymitch acting like he doesn't care about anyone when he actually cares about everyone#he's acting like he's winning the idgaf war but love has disarmed him completely.#Tbc katniss and peeta would but they are literally incapable of being that for him. bc they are infant#also thinking about how we get this sense that while he has some modicum of power with the revolution his sway only goes so far#which is to say not far at all#the times we actually see what the negotiating process is like for him he has to beg coin to listen to him#and he says Plutarch didn't listen to him between cf and mockingjay when he tried to get them to stay for peeta#I just get this sense that most of the time he's in the room but isn't really allowed to make decisions#and constantly has to fight to be heard#I mean again I will always circle back to this they literally locked him in a room to detox#and the descriptions we get in cf is his withdrawal symptoms are incredibly severe#so clearly they weren't dependent on his imput#idk idk I just get this sense they valued his input up until the point he reminded them all he still views people as people.#him coaching katniss was to say in mockingjay during her speech in two also makes me chew drywall#how much of that is what he thought she needed to say to stay alive and how much is what he had always wanted to say#also thinking about how he wasn't lying when he told Plutarch he couldn't go back to twelve sober.#bc he gets katniss home and then immediately gets blackout drunk#I am of the opinion that he genuinely can't get sober while living in 12#I like to think he lets himself leave eventually never to the capitol of course but in my hc he goes to 11#just bc of his fondness for chaff and seeder but that's just a self indulgent headcanon#ALSO ALSO.#thinking about how he's fighting a revolution that he doesn't even believe will bring chance#well. he thinks it'll change things but that change will be temporary and fighting will break out again#my perfect pessimist idiot. in my heart of hearts he gets a therapist moves and actually recovers
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Demons and Humans not understanding each other
Inspired by several other posts I read about this same thing <3 honestly even if the brothers insisted it was safe, I would consult Satan, Lucifer or Barbatos
this is mostly mammon freaking out
Humans think the deadliest things are like, adorable, like Cerberus. Mammon especially does not understand why Mc wants to run towards the very dangerous, very mad three headed dog. A few times he has had to throw Mc over his shoulder to keep them from staying behind
“MC CERBERUS BEING THE BEST BOY DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS HE WANTS TO KILL US”
“But he’s so cute! He just needs a snuggle buddy”
Humans can also be very stubborn if they’re too hot or cold but refuse to admit it. It’s fine with Lucifer does it because he’s one of the most powerful and therefore resilient demons in Hell, but not so much when Mc does it. Beel and Mammon love playing in the Devildom snow, but given that it’s the Devildom, it’s definitely a lot colder than it is in the human realm. Even after ten layers, Mc is still freezing but refuses to admit it.
“Mc, are ya shivering? I thought ya would be too warm under all that”
“I’m sweating with this one jacket”
“I’ll live! Let’s go back to the snowman”
“no I don’t think you will”
On the same note, sometimes demons forget humans can’t withstand crazy temperatures. Asmo will invite Mc to a popular bathhouse, sauna or hot springs, forgetting that the temperature would literally boil Mc alive
“Hey Asmo this is the place you wanted to go, right?”
“Yes! Isn’t is cute?”
“Everything except the part where I boil alive”
“what!”
Some foods can kill humans just by being near them so imagine how the brother would feel when they learned this, it’s giving that lunatic pudding incident with Diavolo from that one card
“Mc! You’ll love this. Open wide!”
“Asmo I feel funny”
“DO NOT FEED MC THE TAKEOUT LUCIFER SAID ITS DEADLY FOR HUMANS IN LARGE AMOUNTS”
“FUCK NOT AGAIN”
In retrospect, humans probably sleep a lot compared to demons. Some demons probably don’t sleep at all, except Sloth demons. Setting aside about eight to nine hours of the day just to sit idly might not make sense to them until they learn they will shut down without it
“How are you feeling about the exam we just took? Exam week is finally over.”
“Mc? Mc, Satan is talking to you. Why are you on the floor”
“MY HUMAN IS DEAD”
“No, I think they’re just asleep idiot”
“oh. wait, THEYRE ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALL lucifer is gonna kill me”
I’d say both demons and humans are social creatures, but humans will go insane without social interaction. Yeah a demon would probably be upset if they didn’t talk to someone for thousands of years but I don’t think a human could last more than ten without losing grip on reality. Humans tend to copy each other, which is probably bizarre to demons. Humans don’t even understand yawning so demons definitely won’t
Going back to the food thing, demons can probably go ages without eating, besides Gluttony demons. Humans need to eat so frequently compared to them
“So you’re tellin’ me that if Mc doesn’t eat for a whole week, their insides start to eat themselves?!”
“Yes. But, Mc ate a few hours ago.”
(Mammon was already gone when Satan turned back around)
Demons probably also play game that would definitely kill humans. My brother and I used to play crazy games when we were little (our favorite game didn’t have a name but we would put Barbies in the toy train tracks and see what would happen when different Thomas and friends character would hit her. The train tracks would glow in the dark! I did not let him put my favorite doll in the train track and he had to listen since I was the older one, she was not a barbie and had bendy feet? that’s not for now) but we never seriously got at each other throats. I cannot imagine what games demons and demon children must play. Satan was born fully grown but imagine if he was born little and the brothers had to play his favorite games with him. I feel like they would find the Barbie game I played a little weird too. Like, they would probably tell me that I should’ve done it in real life since that would be better experience or something batshit like that
“Aww, Satan, do you remember all the times we played “Five minute eye stab” with Lucifer? You were so cute. Sometimes I think Luci let you win.”
“Do not talk to me Asmodeus.”
“I’m sorry, you played what?”
“One time we gave him an actual knife by accident and since he was good, he ended up stabbing Lucifer’s eye.”
“You’ll be next if you don’t shut up and let me read”
“HE WHAT”
“Oh he’s fine now, clearly. Only took him a few hundred years to regain normal eye functions”
“Can we not talk about this anymore?”
Babe it is a miracle Mc is still alive
#obey me#obey me!#obey me belphie#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me levi#obey me mammon#obey me luficer#obey me x reader#obey me x you#obey me x mc#obey me mc
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The Caged Beast
Itadori Yuji x Reader / Sukuna Ryomen x Reader
There was a curse living inside your husband.
The strongest curse was only able to stay alive inside Itadori.
Rather than choosing death, Sukuna decided to stay in Yuji.
As the years passed, many things happened.
Yuji changed, grew into a man, met you and got married.
You were a kind soul.
Someone even Sukuna looked at with suspicion.
Kind yet deadly, is the correct description.
You could be smiling, baking cookies in one second and in the next, you could be slaying curses left and right.
Sukuna had to admit, that Yuji chose well. He approved of you.
And now, after three years of marriage, you were pregnant.
Your first child and Sukuna knew it would be a girl.
A little girl indeed.
A beautiful and healthy little girl.
A true princess.
Yuji helped you every second of your pregnancy and even now with your baby.
He helped when he didn't have to go to fight.
Like now, Yuji was out with Megumi while you gave a bath to your daughter.
Yui, lovingly named after his father, was a rather calm baby. She liked to sleep and babble when she was awake.
Yui adored her father and you. She wanted to be held at all times.
A true princess.
You soon dried her with a soft towel and got her into her fluffy pyjamas.
Placing her on your chest you started to watch a show on TV.
The front door opened, but you were too immersed in the show to care.
"Food is on the table, I'm watching this, I hope the lady wins!" you said not looking away but you did notice your husband walk into the room. He moved over and got Yui from your chest, placing it on his as he sat down next to you on the couch.
His silence should have alarmed you.
It truly should have.
But it didn't.
Instead, you didn't even notice that Yuji didn't say a word until the show was long finished.
Then you felt it, the change, but it didn't scare you.
"Nice to see you from time to time. What prompted your visit?" you turned and looked at Ryomen.
His eyes locked with yours.
"I just wanted to see my Princess." he said as he ran his hand down Yui's back.
"She is Yuji's Princess." you said as you reached for your cup of tea and started to drink.
"I live inside this idiot. You made sure I would never leave. At least, let me have an hour with her."
You found it strange how Ryomen liked your daughter so much.
"You can have your hour. Just making sure you know she is not yours."
"She is My Princess. The only being on this world worth being in this idiot's body."
"Ouch. So it is not worth living for me? And here I thought we had a thing."
"I would have made you my bride. You are way too powerful for me to ignore." you nodded and began to look for something on the TV.
Yui slowly began to stir.
"She must be hungry," you said. "Her bottle is on the counter." you pointed behind yourself, not looking away from the TV.
"Are you joking?"
"It is part of your hour, go feed her."
Sukuna mumbled something under his breath before leaving to get the bottle.
As he sat in her room, feeding and burping her, Sukuna wondered if he should tell you.
Since he became a part of Itadori's body, when you bonded their souls during a fight, technically this was as much as his body as it was Itadori's. So technically, the child sleeping in his arms was as much his as it was Itadori's.
Yuji asked you during a very intense fight to bond Sukuna to his body. Destroy the rest of his fingers and kill him.
But you couldn't do it.
You love Yuji too much to hurt him, instead, you bonded Sukuna to his soul, using Yuji as a cage to hold the beast.
You didn't know but by doing so, you got Sukuna's blood mixed with Yuji's. You didn't know or rather you chose to ignore the fact.
Sukuna was sure you didn't know but had suspicions.
You were a smart woman after all.
But you loved Yuji. Sukuna was just a plus one in the mix, one no one asked for or needed. But he was there.
Yui is Yuji's daughter. And you will never let anyone tell you otherwise.
---
You looked up as he exited the room, it was Yuji this time.
You smiled at him as you rushed to hug him.
"Did you put her to sleep?"
"Yup. Weird, I can't remember coming home."
"You are too tired, let's go to bed."
Yuji smiled and you both moved to the bedroom.
You quickly fell asleep when Ryomen decided that he still had 10 minutes of his hour.
He looked at you sleeping beside him, it was strange. He only ever cared about power.
He lived to see the fear in people.
And yet, you never feared him, he feared you.
Your fierce attitude, your power and that look... is that what they call a mother's look? You could make the entire room shut up with just one look of yours.
Fierce and powerful. Yuji didn't deserve you in his eyes, he did.
But he was okay with getting just an hour with you and Yui... for now.
#anime scenarios#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jujutsu kaisen x reader#anime fanfic#anime imagines#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#jjk sukuna#yuji itadori#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji#itadori x reader#jujutsu itadori#itadori yuji x reader#itadori yuji#itadori yuji imagine#itadori yuji imagines#itadori yuji x you#itadori yuji fluff#jjk anime
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Come Back to Me, It’s Almost Easy
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Memories from his past come back to haunt him. Reminding him of how much he’s failed.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Almost Easy” by Avenged Sevenfold. I’m in the mood for some heavy angst. Requests are open!!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 870
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, heavy angst, major character death, sleep deprivation, death, blood, light violence…
“You have a choice between saving one person or saving every world.”
Miguel knew it all too well. He’s gone through it just like every other Spider-Man, so it’s nothing new. He should’ve expected it coming which is why he never really reacted or mourned his losses.
He knows what’s coming, which means he shouldn’t have felt this awful about himself. It was almost easy for him to move on from everyone else, but the loss of the most important people broke him.
He can easily tell other Spider-Mans that it’s part of the job, so get up and continue doing what you’re doing. But when he’s asked to do it, he can’t help but cry out loud, the feeling of going crazy by asking him to forget everything. He can’t do that.
But the way he held you in his arms, the way your fingers weakly grazed his face… He won’t forget the way he begged you to stay with him, and how shameful he felt when he realized that no matter how different he chose to do things, it was always going to be the same.
“You’ve been awake for almost 48 hours, Miguel.” Peter B. told him, Mayday in his arms as he watched Miguel struggle to stay awake, “Maybe you should take a break?”
“M’fine.” Miguel nearly pulled at his hair, huffing heavily as he stared into the screen, “Everything is fine.”
“I asked if you were fine, not everyone else.”
“And I said that I am fine.” Miguel growled at Peter B. “And besides, don’t you have better things to do than bother me?”
“I’m just worried about you, Miguel.” Peter B. stepped closer but remained a good distance just in case, “Everyone else is worried, even Miles. We’re here for you.”
“And I said…” Miguel slammed his hands on his desk, “Leave me be!” Snapping at Peter B. without even looking at him, “I don’t need you breathing on my back.”
“Okay, okay.” Peter B. mumbled, hurrying off before Mayday could begin to cry.
But Miguel didn’t react, he remained hunched over at his desk. Watching as multiple screens popped up and then closed by Lyla. His eyes had started to burn, and he began to slump over his desk and maybe, fall asleep.
But the second he felt fingers running through his hair, it caused him to abruptly stand up. He scanned every inch of the room… But he was all alone.
“Miguel?” He flinched, “Are you sure you’re okay?” He then huffed after a minute, learning that it was Lyla who just spoke to him.
“Just perfect.” He heavily sighed, “Everything is perfect. Not like I’ve lost an entire family in an instant. So yeah, I think I’m doing good.”
He hears Lyla sigh, “Get some sleep.” She said but sounded like a demand, “I won’t say it again.”
He thought about the scenario over again, what mistakes he made and how easily the warning signs showed from the start. If he had never let his guard down, his family would still be alive.
Miguel sighed once more. He had to apologize to Peter B. and fast, it wasn’t his fault, he was just worried about him.
“Now do you believe me?” You softly spoke as you watched Miguel cradle his daughter in his arms, “See? You aren’t hurting her.”
“I guess I should believe you more often.” Miguel softly spoke as she began to sleep in his arms, “Thank you, (Y/n).”
“For what?”
“For giving me a chance.”
“Anything for you, Miguel. You deserve the world.”
He shouldn’t have. He never should have believed that it was all true. Pushing away his mindset and letting him fall into the beautiful feeling of love. If he didn’t, then you’d be continuing your life that didn’t involve him.
“Stay with me, (Y/n)!” Miguel cried, his tears streaming down his face, “The ambulance is almost here! Just hold on a bit longer!” But the ambulance isn’t in his sight. So, carefully, he began to stand, still holding onto you.
“Don’t.” You cough, “I need you to promise me, Miguel.” He feels your hand come up to his face, weakly trying to wipe away the tears, “Take care of her Miguel…”
He drops to his knees, “Don’t say that!” You laid on the ground, his hands coming up to cup your face.
“She’ll need her father.”
“I can’t do this without you!”
“Let her know that her mother will always love her…” You cough, then cough again, and then again until he sees blood spilling from your mouth, “No matter what happens.”
“Stop! Please!” He begs you.
“And know that forever, I’ll always love you…” Your voice gets weaker by the second, your vision begins to fade, “No matter how far you go. I’ll be here.”
He remembered the sounds of the sirens. How hard it took him to force himself to put his mask on as he watched the medical technicians try to help you.
And so, Miguel stopped wishing for a lot of things. But there was always one wish… If he could go back in time to fix things, could he be able to have the family he wished for?
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
#x reader#x female reader#angst#heavy angst#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara#spider man#spider man x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#spider man x y/n#spider man 2099#spiderverse#spider man across the spider verse#spiderman#spiderman x you#spiderman x y/n#miguel o'hara x reader
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A CLEAN MIND
NSFW Fic (MDNI) [First part >.<]
PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader
SUMMARY: After a long night of doing Lucifer’s Tango with the infamous Radio Demon, limbs sore to the brim, Alastor decides that it’s best to give his darling some proper aftercare. Of course one thing had led to another, but what would they do once they were caught in the net with a knock on the door?
WARNINGS: Fem!Reader, reader is sensitive, shower sex, mentions of terrible soreness from the night before, Alastor is a little bit of a rascal 🤓☝️ *snort* (apologies), Nifty almost catching them in the middle of it, sexual content in general, mature language, dubious consent, power dynamics, violent language (not too degrading though), unprotected sex, Exhibitionism, relationship dynamics. LMK if i missed anything!!!
Please do not steal or translate my work <3 thanks for liking it, though!!
WORDS: 1.2k (not including the bonus fic at the end)
Y/N was awoken by the weight shift in her shared bed. Slowly, she sat up, stretching the soreness out of her, to see Alastor getting up from bed and walking over to his dresser. Y/N sighed and laid back down in the red silk sheets, but then felt a hand on her forehead one moment later.
“I see you’re awake,” Alastor said, smiling. “How do you feel?”
Y/N groaned and turned her head away. “Not good…”
“Ah, well, I figured so.” Alastor chuckled, running his fingers through her hair. “But I will fix it for you, as always.”
He grabbed her arm and helped her stand up, but Y/N protested. “Just a couple more minutes, Al,” she stated, “I’m sore as a dam’s log…” Alastor laughed softly when he heard her say one of the old sayings from their time.
“Alright… But you need to get up soon, honey. It’s not healthy staying in bed all day…especially without a proper cleaning after last night.” He smiled more softly and leaned down to kiss her lips, then went into the bathroom. Y/N lay back down again, welcoming the feeling of the twisted sheets once more.
After about two minutes, Alastor came back out with a warm washcloth. He bent down next to the bed and gently swipes the cloth on her face, wiping away old sweat or…anything else that might be there. Y/N blushed at the thought, but still let him cleanse her face.
…makeup- he’s wiping off makeup.
When he finished, Alastor tossed the wet rag into the hamper and walked back towards the bedroom, leaving the door open. He stopped right beside the bed. “Get up, sweetheart. We need to take care of your sore muscles and such.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and got off the bed, walking into the bathroom. Alastor followed behind her, closing the door. She stood in front of the mirror as Alastor started the water in the shower. Y/N inspected at herself.
Damn, i looked better when i was alive.
Seeing that Alastor was taking off his unde rgarments, Y/N decided to do the same.
After they were finished with that, Alastor moved his head to the side to look at her, “Let me help you get cleaned up, yes?” Alastor grabbed her shoulders and turned her around.
“Okay.” Y/N nodded and stepped under the showerhead, letting the water pour over her body. Alastor stepped inside, grabbing some body soap and pumping it into his claws.
Alastor ran his hands slowly across her back. He continued to caress her skin until she reached forward, grasping her shoulders and pulling him closer. His hands were still moving, but now against her breasts. He squeezed them lightly, knowing how much it would turn her on.
Y/N gasped, “Alastor!” She looked up to meet his eyes, blushing profusely.
Alastor let out a laugh, “apologies, darling.” he continued to rub soap onto the contents of her body. After washing her front, he washed her backside. Then, he began to massage her neck and shoulders. She moaned in pleasure, causing him to smirk. “Enjoying yourself, love?” he asked teasingly.
Y/N laughed softly, “Does it not show?” she asked sarcastically. Alastor grinned, stepping closer and pressing his lips against hers. Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him close.
Alastor broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. “I want you,” he whispered. Y/N smiled, leaning in for another kiss. Alastor moved his hands from her shoulders to her hips. He pushed her against the wall, using his strength to hold her there.
Alastor pulled back, looking down at what was happening. His cock was fully erect, sticking straight out like a sword. He smirked and rubbed the tip against her slit.
“Alastor…I’m still a little sensitive from last night…” Y/N worried.
He scoffed, “You’ll be okay darling, I’ll be gentle.” Then, Alastor pushed his cock inside of her in one thrust.
Y/N slapped his shoulder, hissing, “You said you’d be gentle!”
He hushed her, kissing her collarbone, “We just need to be quick dear, yes?” He then suckled on her collarbone after pulling away.
“Wait…why?” Y/N asked.
He groaned and pulled away once again, beginning to thrust slowly, “Because Nifty is supposed to come in and clean in about…” he looked at the picket watch on the counter, “…hm, ten minutes? maybe less.” He smirked and sped up his pace slightly, causing her to grip tightly onto his forearms.
Alastor kissed along her jawline, then made his way back to her lips. The sound of the running water drowned out any sounds that may have been coming from their mouths.
As if on cue, there was a knock on the bathroom door. “Sir?” Nifty called from outside. Alastor pulled away quickly, cursing harshly under his breath. “I have to clean your room early because Charlie is beginning an activity soon…should i give you time in the shower, Sir?”
Y/N groaned, burying her head into the junction of his shoulder, “You can’t be this fucking old to forget Charlie’s plans-“
“Of course, Nif, I’ll be out in a jiffy!” Alastor immediately shoved himself back into Y/N, thrusting violently.
She gasped loudly, gripping tighter onto his forearms. Her legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in place.
Catching her volume, she moaned pathetically quiet, grinding her hips into his. “Faster, please..faster…” she whimpered. Alastor obliged, slamming his cock deeper into her cunt. Y/N groaned, arching her back and hoping for the best the shower’s water was muffling her noises.
Alastor, although, was practically overjoyed could hear her cries even through the sound of rushing water. He picked up speed, pounding harder and harder into her. Y/N squealed, digging her nails into his arms.
He grunted, “Darling, you’re going to leave marks.”
She moaned, “You wanna talk about m-mine?”
His thrusts became erratic as he neared his release. Y/N wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, squeezing every muscle she had left in her legs.
“Shit.” Alastor cursed, thrusting deeper and deeper into her. He slammed into her cervix once more, causing her to squeeze around his cock tightly. He held himself deep inside of her as he filled her womb with cum, groaning in ecstasy.
After a moment of catching each other’s breaths, both failing miserably, he pulled out, “That’s better.” He patted her cheek, setting her down on the ground after seeing that she would refuse to stand on her feet, and turned to turn off the water. He dried himself off and put on his robe, quickly ruffling his hair in a towel and tossing it.
He turned to see Y/N sitting in the shower’s tub, rubbing her hips, “Darling? You need any help getting out?” Alastor walked over to her and bent down, titling his head to the side like talking to a mindless toddler.
Y/N took a moment and sighed, switching the water to go through the bath faucet, and turned on the water to the hottest temperature, “just tell Nifty to skip the bath tub while she cleans.”
Alastor chuckled, “will do.” and turned to leave the bathroom
⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿
BONUSSS~
✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑
300 words
Nifty hummed to herself as she tidied up the bedroom, her cheerful demeanor contrasting with the unknowingly steamy scene that had just unfolded in the bathroom.
As she finished straightening the sheets, Nifty heard the sound of the bathroom door opening. She glanced up to see Alastor emerging, fully dressed in his signature attire, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Good morning, Nifty,” Alastor greeted her with a smile.
“Morning, Sir,” Nifty replied, eyeing him curiously. “Is everything alright? You seem, um, a little off today?”
Alastor chuckled, a playful twinkle in his eye. “Oh, everything’s just fine, my dear Nifty. Just had a little… unexpected delay in the bathroom.”
Nifty raised an eyebrow, but decided not to pry further. After all, she was used to Alastor’s cryptic comments and eccentricities. “Well, if there’s anything you need, just let me know.”
“Actually, there is one thing,” Alastor said, his smile widening. “Could you do me a favor and skip cleaning the bathtub today? Y/N is… not done with her bathing. A little sore. I’m sure she’ll clean up after herself so don’t bother to wait or come back for when she’s done.”
Nifty’s eye widened in understanding, and she couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Consider it done.”
“Thank you, Nifty. You’re a gem,” Alastor said with a wink before sauntering out of the room, leaving Nifty to finish her cleaning with a knowing smile.
As she worked, Nifty couldn’t help but feel a sense of amusement at the antics of her eccentric employer and his mysterious guest. It was just another day in the Hazbin Hotel, after all.
NOTES: This is even more rushed but do i give a fuck? Heck’s nah. Guys ty for the support in my past posts and thank you to people who have already sent WRITING REQUESTS!!! (I love y’all). Stay tuned, yah??? Notes, Submissions, and support in general is always appreciated :3 And credits to @alastorssimp for requesting this lovely fic!!
-Genderlessdude92, Kiki
MY MASTERLIST!!! (Click me :D)
#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor smut#alastor x wife reader#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#hazbin alastor x reader
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Bingqiu AU where SY and LBH grow up as childhood friends (idk maybe they're both at QJP but Shen Jiu is less of an asshole, or maybe SY transmigrates into Random Village Bully Child No.3 when Binghe's mom is still alive -- or both) and there's none of the tension of the idea of "one day Luo Binghe is going to rip my limbs off" for Shen Yuan.
So he and LBH can just be bros! Fantastic! Shen Yuan has never had a little brother before but he's had a little sister, he knows how to do this. Just spoil the cute kid rotten!
It's only fair compensation for how many terrible things LBH is gonna have to endure on the road to ruling the world, after all. SY also feels more freedom to change minor aspects of the plot around, too, like maybe he'll stop Liu Qingge from dying, definitely he can help LBH get a better start to his cultivation journey, and maybe the abyss and xin mo thing doesn't really need to happen...?
The list of things SY considers meddling with ends up including wives.
Like really, come on now, Luo Binghe may be a stallion protagonist but there's no need for that many women. Especially when at least half of them are just increasingly cheap copies of the other half, and that's being generous about it. Some of PIDW Binghe's wives were, frankly, horrible people. And if he's being honest about it, it wasn't fair of Binghe himself to take on that many either. Even if anyone would naturally give their left arm to be the protagonist's wife, after a certain point Binghe just can't spend that much time actually with them! And then he can't form the kinds of deep and meaningful bonds which might actually help heal his trauma!
SY's not looking to interfere too much, of course. Ning Yingying is not his favorite wife, but she's fine. She causes trouble but it isn't on purpose, and she's genuinely sweet and willing to befriend Binghe before he's anything special (although even now, it's obvious Binghe is special). Ning Yingying can stay.
And of course, so can Best Wife Liu Mingyan.
But Sha Hualing? Well, she offers some political advantages, and as the demon wives go she's not the worst. She's kind of iconic and was very popular, but Shen Yuan thinks the harem could do without her scheming and malicious attitude towards the other wives. The cost of harmony was too high for the political bonuses offered, especially when Binghe might as well just take her ancestral lands by force and be done with it. He's going to advise against that match.
And the Qin sisters. Sure there's the legendary threesome, but Wanrong's dead weight and it never struck SY quite right how Qin Wanyue pressured Luo Binghe into sex. The threesome wasn't even good anyway.
Better Qin Wanyue than the Little Palace Mistress on that front, though. But aish, that's complicated, the Palace Mistress is even more politically vital to securing HHP than Sha Hualing is for her father's kingdom, and almost as bad for the peace and harmony of the harem. Ultimately SY will leave it up to Binghe, but if Binghe asks, he's going to advise against the Huan Hua wives too.
With thoughts like this in mind, SY starts talking to Binghe about how to establish a household, what to look for in a spouse (or twenty), and other topics of that nature. What sort of household Luo Binghe ought to strive to have, and what sorts of standards he should himself to. Also while of course assuring him that Shen Yuan isn't interested in women. Lest he worry that Shen Yuan might be trying to steal any of the wives from him, at any point. He's not competition!
SY: I am helping to pave the way for Binghe to have better marital relationships! I am the best big brother slash best buddy ever! don't worry, no matter what happens to Binghe, this gege will be your no.1 cheerleader forever!
LBH: is he saying I should get a palace if I want to marry him? well... that sounds reasonable. ok, I will do it! (•̀ ω •́)✧
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Pt2 of the badly kept secrets of Eddie's heart monitor
After the first two weeks, Steve seems to have suddenly decided to stop visiting Eddie. No explanation, no goodbye: one day he's there, and then he... Isn't. It takes a few days, sometimes, Steve has a life of his own after all, but a whole week goes by with nothing. And another one. Eddie only knows he's alive – and in town – because the others told him when he asked. Maybe Steve's gotten tired of being surrounded by all that hospital sterility. Or maybe he's gotten tired of being around Eddie. Or maybe... Eddie groans and takes up a stare-down with the fucking heart monitor that's still attached to him at all times, his biggest enemy.
Unfortunately, he has way too much time on his hands, alone in this room and unable to do anything but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. It makes it far too easy to let his thoughts spiral. Maybe – no, probably, certainly, undoubtedly – that goddamn heart monitor was the ideal help for Steve to decipher Eddie's biggest secret without any difficulties.
Yes, that must be the reason why Steve is staying away. Sure, the guy could tolerate being around “the freak” for a few hours a week out of pity, but of course he wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore upon finding out exactly what kind of freaky thoughts he really has about Steve. Steve was polite enough to pretend like he didn't notice the heart monitor speeding up every single time he got in Eddie's proximity, but of course, of course he noticed. He noticed and now he hates Eddie.
And honestly? He has every right to hate Eddie, with the way Eddie has been exploiting every opportunity to get Steve to touch him. Even though he'd regret it right away whenever the heart monitor couldn't shut the fuck up, Eddie never learned from his mistakes. He was even stupid enough to find meaning in the way Steve's touch would linger after helping him lie down or sit up, stupid enough to find tenderness in the way Steve held his arms when helping him out of his bed and to the bathroom. Obviously, Steve never wanted any of that. Obviously, that only made Steve uncomfortable, but the poor guy was too polite to lash out to the dude chained to a hospital bed healing from having all his organs chewed inside out.
Eddie sighs and closes his eyes; not because he wants to sleep, but because the staring contest with the heart monitor isn't really getting him anywhere. Maybe it's for the best that Steve is staying away. That way, Eddie might be able to get over him more easily. He doesn't deserve Steve's friendship anyway.
***
“I wanna visit Eddie today.”
“Alright, have fun,” Steve answers. “Tell him I said hi.”
Robin sighs dramatically. “No, dingus, you're coming with me. I need a ride.”
“No!” It comes out of his mouth a little too quick, a little too loud, and Robin raises her eyebrows at him.
“No, I can't,” he explains in a calmer voice.
Robin raises her eyebrows even further, making them disappear beneath her bangs altogether. “You literally just told me you don't have plans after work.”
“Yeah, but...” He lets his voice fade out and settles on muttering something incomprehensible.
“I did not understand one single word of what you were saying,” Robin points out. She sounds annoyed, but there's a vaguely amused smile playing around her lips, betraying how she really feels about the whole thing. “Seriously, what's up with you and Eddie? Did you have a fight or something?”
“No...”
“Until two weeks ago, you were at the hospital basically every spare minute of your time. You even canceled two dates just so you could spend more time with Eddie! And now, all of a sudden, you'd rather spend your evening on your own at home watching TV than visit your friend?”
“He's not my friend,” Steve protests.
She gives him a punch against his shoulder.
“Okay, I'm pretty sure he hates me, Rob.” Steve finally caves in. “He gets, like, very uncomfortable whenever I'm around. And I don't wanna add to his discomfort any more than necessary, so it's better I stay away from him.”
“Well, I don't know what on earth gave you that idea, but that is by far the biggest load of bullcrap I heard all week,” Robin says matter-of-factly. “He's asked about you every single time I visited him. He'll be happy to see you, dingus, you're coming with me today. No excuses.”
***
Like clockwork, the steady beeping of the heart monitor falters as soon as Eddie locks eyes with Steve. To make things even worse, what little color that is on Eddie's cheeks leaves his face immediately.
Despite the paleness of Eddie's face, Steve can't help but notice how good he looks in comparison to when he last saw him two weeks ago. He's sitting straight up, leaning against a pillow, and the look in his eyes is far from drowsy.
“S-Steve,” Eddie stutters out. “Hi.” He clears his throat. “And – and Robin, of course, hi! Good to see ya, Buck.” He stretches out his arms to embrace her, and Steve awkwardly comes up behind her. It feels weird not to follow Robin's example and give him a hug, but when he bows over the bed and wraps his arms around Eddie, the beeping immediately picks up speed again. To make things even worse, Eddie quite literally recoils from his touch, leaning away as far as possible and letting his arms hover in the air around Steve more than actually hugging him back.
When Steve looks at Robin, he notices that her eyes have grown about twice their normal size while they flash back and forth between Eddie, the machines around his bed, and Steve.
He locks eyes with her and tries to silently convey a See, I told you so about Eddie resenting him. She answers with a barely visible nod and relief fills Steve's chest. He's lucky to have Robin right by his side, his best friend, the one person he can always count on understanding him. She'll get them out of here in no time and leave Eddie in peace and –
“Oh shoot, sorry, I forgot I need to get a, um, a thing from the car,” Robin says. “I'll be right back.”
As she stumbles out of the room, Steve wants to scream at her that that was very much the opposite of what he wanted her to do, but she disappears before he can do anything about it, only leaving an awkward silence in her wake. So Steve has no choice but to turn back to Eddie and take his familiar place in the chair beside his bed.
“I kinda didn't expect to see you anymore.” Eddie is the one to break the silence. He sounds more distant than the last time Steve saw him. It must be worse than Steve thought: Eddie had been happy to be rid of him and now here he is again, after a meager two weeks of peace.
“Sorry,” Steve mumbles. “She insisted I come with her.”
“So you didn't wanna come?”
Steve chuckles darkly at the irony in that question, not really knowing how to answer that.
“Alright, I'm just gonna say it,” says Eddie when it becomes clear that Steve doesn't quite know what to say. “You figured out what I – how I felt about you, didn't you? Cause of the heart thing.”
Steve looks away, stares intently at the ugly dark blue linoleum carpet under his feet.
“Yeah,” he quietly confesses. There's no use denying it now, he figures.
Eddie heaves out a long sigh.
“For what it's worth: I'm really sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to make you-”
“It's fine,” Steve quickly interrupts him. He doesn't think he could bear Eddie's pity right now. “Don't worry about it. I just wanted to give you some space, y'know, get outta your hair for a bit. I didn't want to make this any more painful for you than it has to be.”
“Really?”
The heart monitor stutters again and Eddie's voice sounds weirdly strained. Steve can't help but look up. He's met with big brown eyes that are looking at him like Eddie actually cares about him. For a moment, Steve imagines to see tears, but then Eddie blinks and the illusion is gone.
“I um... I appreciate that, man,” Eddie says.
Another awkward silence dawns over the room.
“Wait,” Eddie says after a few seconds. “So you're not angry?”
“No!” Steve immediately replies – and it's true. He understands why Eddie doesn't like being around him, that too much has happened in the past for them to just move on and hold hands or some shit.
“It's not your fault,” he tells Eddie. He looks away again, back to the floor in front of his sneakers. “If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, right?”
Eddie huffs out a sound of disbelief. “Why, cause you're just too damn sexy, Harrington?”
Steve frowns. “Well, no, cause I was an asshole and I was mean to your friends during all of high school and it's stupid of me to expect you to just get over that shit and-”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
There's that stutter in the heart monitor again. It makes Steve wonder if he's putting Eddie's health at risk by simply existing next to him. Maybe it would be better to leave Eddie alone and wait in the car until Robin is done with her visit. What the hell is taking her so long anyway?
He keeps his eyes stubbornly focused on the blue floor. “Isn't that why you got so uncomfortable having me around?” he points out. “Look, I get it, man. I was an asshole, it's true. And it was selfish of me to keep showing up here only because you were too polite to say to my face what you thought about me. I was only thinking about myself and about how much I liked being here with you, it wasn't fair.”
All of a sudden, the soft touch of a hand lands on his shoulder. He hates how that makes his own heart speed up. If he were the one attached to a heart monitor, Eddie would've seen right through him in an instant, that's for sure.
He looks up and meets Eddie's wide-eyed, somewhat shocked face.
“You - you thought you were making me uncomfortable?” Eddie asks him, sounding like he's completely gobsmacked.
Steve frowns. “Isn't that what we've been talking about for the past five minutes?”
“Steve,” Eddie says. “I am so sorry. I didn't – I never – Look. Listen.” He removes his hand from Steve's shoulder and roughly wipes it over his face. His heart monitor accelerates even further. “Please don't hate me for what I'm about to tell you, okay?” He doesn't wait for a reaction, only uses his pause to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and looking right into Steve's.
“I'm gay, Steve. And that evil computer over there-” He points towards the heart monitor, “-keeps betraying my big, fat, gay crush on you. Every time you walk in here, or read my book to me, or do so much as smile at me, I just – God, I'm such a goner for you and there was no hiding it because of that stupid fucking thing.”
This time, Steve is quite sure he is not at all imagining the tears in Eddie's eyes.
“I thought that's why you stopped visiting. Cause you figured out how gay I am – about you – and you didn't want anything to do with that. With me. Being gay. For you.”
Eddie swallows. He lifts a hand and pulls a strand of hair over his face in a poor attempt to hide the truly terrified expression that's all over his features.
“Jesus, Eddie,” Steve breathes out. He can't even begin to comprehend how spectacularly wrong he has been about everything. It's almost like he's in shock. Only a minute ago, he thought Eddie despised him. And now, he has to process the revelation that the guy in fact has had a crush on him – a “big, fat, gay crush” – all along. That the reason his heart was behaving so weirdly was because Steve's proximity made him lovesick. That he recoiled from Steve's touches out of fear that the monitor would give him away and make Steve realize he was gay and in love with him.
“Please say something?” It sounds like a question, small and so afraid of what is about to come.
“Eddie, I – Jesus. This is... A lot. To process,” Steve manages to choke out.
“I know,” Eddie says. “I'm sorry I made you think I hated you. But... Please don't hate me. I really missed you visiting. We can be friends, right? You won't even have to touch me ever again, we can just hang out like bros, and I'll try to get my feelings for you under control, and you can-”
Steve finally gains control over his body again: he leaps forward and presses his lips against Eddie's with slightly more force than he had meant to do.
A surprised yelp escapes from Eddie's mouth, and the beeping of the heart monitor goes even crazier. It makes Steve's own heart do a goddamn cartwheel, that audible proof of what he is making Eddie feel.
He completely understands why the heart monitor is going batshit crazy right now; everything about this is fucking amazing. One of his hands finds its way to Eddie's surprisingly soft hair, and he revels in the feeling of touching Eddie again and in the taste of Eddie's lips against his own, and maybe he should just climb into Eddie's bed to–
“Thank God for that.”
They quickly jump apart to find Robin standing in the doorway, an annoyingly smug grin on her face.
“You two could really not be more stupid if you tried, huh?”
Steve squints at her while his hand blindly finds Eddie's on top of the sheets and curls itself around it. He feels his cheeks heat up, but he doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore, except for Eddie's hand warmly resting in his own.
“Did you even need anything from the car at all?” he asks Robin, raising an eyebrow at her.
“No, of course not,” Robin scoffs. “Just needed you idiots to finally get your shit together. I don't think I've ever met anyone more dense than the two of you, seriously! There were at least three moments when I almost barged in here to just smash your faces tog-”
“You were eavesdropping on us?!”
“Obviously.”
Steve opens his mouth, indignant and ready to tell her exactly how mean and evil she is, but she merely raises a hand and the look in her eyes is terrifying enough to shut him up before he has even started speaking.
“Hey, listen,” she says. Something in her face softens. “I'm really happy for you guys. Seriously, no matter how stupid you are, you two deserve every bit of happiness in the world.” She takes a step backwards towards the door. “I'll go wait in the car, dingus. Go kiss each other some more.”
And before Steve or Eddie can say anything, she winks and closes the door behind her.
Taglist: @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @saramelaniemoon @lololol-1234 @carlajim98 @7-starboi @acedorerryn @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @zoeweee @resident-gay-bitch @my2amgaythoughts @didntwant2come @steveshairspray @noodle-shenaniganery @thedragonsaunt @finntheehumaneater @queerriotgrrrl @co5m0 @dino-nuggets-posts
#in which robin is all of us#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#they're idiots your honor#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#stranger things#fruity ficlet
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Y/N experiencing difficult pregnancy with one of her boys.. Izuku is beyond worried and terrified. He has read the risks of pregnancy past the age of thirty and how it takes a toll on women's bodies. The boys find out about it and help her take over all the chores, doing their homework without disturbing mom, making after school snacks and bringing mom whatever she may need. Izuku even takes frequent leaves from his hero duties to care for his pregnant wife
So sorry about my English, it is only my third language
A hard time
Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
Warning: Difficult pregnancy, mention of a previous miscarriage
"Mr Midoriya."
Izuku looked up at the doctor as you lay in the hospital bed, your five-month pregnancy bump just visible from underneath the blanket. This would be your fifth child together and everything was normal. Or Izuku thought everything was normal until Izuku had received a call from his five-year old, saying that "Mommy had fallen down"
When Izuku had raced home, you had fainted and he found signs of blood between your thighs. Izuku feared the worst, thinking you had suffered a miscarriage or your life was in danger. Which is why Izuku was here, still in his hero uniform, at your side.
Izuku stood in front of the doctor. "Yes?" He asked.
"She's alright, Mr Midoriya. She's going to be just fine. With a lot of rest, she'll be just fine." She told Izuku.
Izuku let out a relieved sigh. "The baby?"
"Alive." Izuku closed his eyes in pure relief, knowing that both you and the baby were fine. "This is your wife's fifth pregnancy, am I correct?" She asked as she looked over at your file.
Izuku nodded his head. "Sixth actually." He notified. "We suffered a miscarriage before we had our second son." He moved to look back at you, not wanting to dwell on that pain that was buried by the both of you long ago that was only ever revisited once a year.
The doctor nodded silently. "Well, Mr Midoriya, as much as pregnancies typically get easier the more children one has, sometimes we get cases were high-risk pregnancies do occur. It seems this is one of them." She told him. "Your wife seems to be suffering a from low blood pressure right now and the baby seems to have a rather soft heart beat. I can only give her a bit of supplements to counter the effects. She needs rest and I mean rest. I want her on strict bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy and rich in iron meals. We want to keep her over night for today but then tomorrow, if all is the same, she can go back home."
After that discussion, Izuku sat at your bedside waiting for you to wake up. He had talked to his mother who he had called in a flurry while speeding to the hospital, telling her that you were fine and it was just a scare. He got an update on the boys, getting a bucket load of questions from a twelve year old Toshinori who seemed just about ready to jump in a cab and get to your side himself.
Izuku was touched but he needed all his sprouts in one place. He was pretty sure that he wanted to stay here at your bedside, considering his mother was holding down the fort back home.
Izuku was taken out of his thoughts as you shifted in bed with a low hum. You slowly opened your eyes as you turned to look at him. Izuku sat up as he gave you a sad smile. You reached a hand over to him which he eagerly took. Your husband moved your hand to be against his face, holding you close. "You scared me." He whispered softly.
You gave him a soft smile. "I'm sorry, my love." You told him honestly. "I... I don't know what happened..."
"You fainted." Izuku told you truthfully. "The doctor said that she's worried about the pregnancy. She's classified you as high-risk."
You let out a gentle huff as you moved to look away from him for a moment. You let out a gentle scoff. "Well, we expected this sooner or later." You spoke softly. "I'm not as young as I once was, Izu."
He looked at you without a smile on his face, worry in his face and in his frown. He let out a deep sigh as he shook his head. "I should have listened to Tenya. What were we thinking, getting you pregnant again." He put a hand to his face, pushing a hand through his green hair.
"Izuku, please." Your eyes were closed almost in pain at what he was saying. Your voice was weak but you were firm. "Please don't say that. Don't regret any child we have ever conceived, even this one." You put your hand over your stomach gently. I love all of our little sprouts, even the ones that haven't left my womb yet."
"Y/N, you're at risk." He reminded you with an adament expression. "Strict bedrest until delivery and even then its probably going to be a c-section done this time."
Your eyebrows furrowed. You had given birth to every single of your sprouts naturally, the labour time being cut in half with each child. From fourteen hours, to seven, to three, to one hour. You had always wanted control over your body especially in something as vulnerable as labour.
You looked away from your husband for a moment. "Izuku..."
"Hm."
"I want you to promise me..." You turned to look at him dead in the eye. "If something ever were to go wrong, you would save the baby even if it compromises me."
Your husband was frozen as he stared at you unblinkingly. He slowly sat up straight as he looked at you, green eyes going dark at your request. His hold on your hand tightened. "Don't you ever ask that of me again." He whispered, his voice harsh.
"Izuku-"
"No." He denied it as he stood up. "You are my wife! My wife! I won't lose you over this baby."
"Izuku, I love every single one of our sprouts even the one that was lost." You expressed with tears in your eyes. "It is not this child's fault that I'm not healthy enough this time around to carry it."
"It is also not your fault too!" He rebutted with a painful expression. He shook his head. "You are the only thing that matters to me and the boys. I can't live without you, let alone raise the boys without you. If you die, I'm following you."
You sat up at such a statement. "Izuku! We have four boys!" You reminded him.
"So then live, goddamn it Y/N!" He shouted at you, tears in his eyes, his hands shaking. That's when you saw the pure terror in his eyes, the fear and the worry that he would lose you being stronger than anything else. He dropped his head as he tried his best not to break down. "I love our boys..." he whispered. "I love our family, I love you as my wife, as the mother of my children. I love you as you are and I sure as hell love it when youre pregnant, but sweetheart..." He looked at you genuinely on the brink of losing himself in fear. "I can not lose you over this baby. I can't."
You fought your own tears, touched at his statement. You closed your eyes but nodded your head. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay."
From the moment you got back home, Izuku gave you a warm bubble bath and you were put straight in bed. Your sprouts crowded you with so much love, showing you what you had missed while you were in hospital.
However, you noticed that Inko never left. Izuku asked his mother if she could move in for the remainder of your pregnancy, which she gladly did. She helped with the boys, making sure that homework was done and the chores you needed done were finished.
Izuku didn't leave it all to his mother though. He had taken a week off of work initially and you noticed that his work hours had significantly decreased. When he did paperwork, he worked from home. He did everything from home unless it was patrol or an emergancy. Otherwise he was right at your side, moving a desk into your bedroom to make sure he was at your disposal.
He was determined to make sure this pregnancy would be easy for you.
-Glitch1d
#dilf midoriya#dilf izuku midoriya#dilf izuku x reader#midoriya izuku angst#izuku midoriya x reader#izuku midoriya#izuku x reader#izuku x reader angst
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united in grief.
f1 au/fic: in which, you’re jules bianchi’s little sister. you’re the same age as charles and grew up with him, when jules passed away your world completely fell apart, and you left monaco for paris. eight years after jules’s death you finally decide to comeback to monaco to visit your old friend.
charles leclerc x bianchi!reader.
fc: madison beer.
warnings: mention of jules bianchi, grief, angst, fluff.
note: happy eighth heavenly birthday, jules, we will always love and remember you, champion 🤍
y/n just posted a story!
caption: missed you monaco 🤍
_
you really thought about going back for a while, you missed you life in monaco so much. all your friends were here, your family was here, even after jules’s death they stayed, but you couldn’t. every step you took in the luxurious city reminded you of your brother. his presence was everywhere. you were seventeen when you lost jules, he was your whole world, you always wished you were the one in that car. you left monaco for paris because you needed a fresh start in a new city where you could walk without feeling the people’s eyes on you. but a small part of your heart wondered if leaving monaco meant that you were abandoning jules too. he was buried there after all, his soul was now forever in monaco and you were leaving to run away from him.
but your parents reassured you, and told you to fly with your own wings, to find your way, that no matter what jules would be proud of you, and would follow you because he was now your guardian angel. that reassured you a lot since your worst fear was to disappoint him. but your parents were right, jules was an angel when he was still here, and he’s still one up there. so whenever you felt bad, defeated, sad, you knew jules was around you, that gave you the strength to stand up and stay strong. you had to, for your brother. to make him proud.
that’s why you decided to attend today’s race. the monaco grand prix, your brother’s home race. he loved that circuit so much because he knew his friends and family were watching him and cheering for him. you came back without telling anyone, but of course your mother had to tell pascale, so the elderly woman immediately called you to invite you to have lunch with her and lorenzo, her oldest son. you couldn’t say no, because you missed the leclerc, but also because you knew how much you leaving hurt them. you left without saying goodbye, it was too hard for you, so once jules’s funeral was over, you packed your bag and left.
pascale and lorenzo welcomed you with open arms and big smiles, the mother apologised for charles and arthur’s absence but they were busy. charles… you were glad he wasn’t here because you didn’t know how you’d be able to look him in the eye. "you should go to the grand prix with us." lorenzo had told you, with his usual warm smile. at first you refused, but after thinking it over you realised that you owned it to charles, you left him behind when he was also mourning. of course it was harder for you since he was your brother, but jules was everything to charles. his second older brother, he was also lorenzo’s best friend. you hated yourself for being such a selfish coward. guilt was eating you alive and lorenzo noticed it. "don’t be too hard on yourself y/n, jules isn’t going to be happy." he smiled and you had to fight back your tears.
so you came with the leclerc to charles’ home race, you knew that your presence would be the only talk in town and on the internet. "oh my god, y/n!" someone yelled from behind you and you smiled when you saw ‘little arthur’ like you called him back then. he ran to you and made you spin in his arms. you laughed and brushed his hair when he finally put you down. "look at you! where is my little boy?" you asked, still laughing. he flexed his muscles and flashed you a cocky smile before pascale came to hit him in the head. "where is charles?" she asked. "getting ready in the garage, he’s really nervous, i think you should go say hi." he told you. you immediately took a step back, you were nervous as hell too, but for different reasons than charles. what if he didn’t want to see you? what if seeing you ruin his race? what if-… "he still talks about you y/n, he misses you so much you have no idea." pascale chimes in, patting your shoulder.
you were in front of charles’ driver room, you knew that he was just behind it. you could hear voices inside which had to be charles and his teammate. you closed you eyes and knocked three times before waiting. a tall and tan man opened the door for you, he smiled at you and you recognised him as carlos sainz. "isa is waiting for me, see you on track charles." he told charles. "it’s nice seeing you here, y/n." you smiled and watched him go. you took a deep breath before walking into the room. your hands were sweaty and you didn’t know where to look. "y/n?" you haven’t heard his voice in nearly a decade, so him calling your name startled you. "h-…" you couldn’t even finish that charles had closed the gap between you, pulling you in his arms. his face was buried in your neck and his arms were hugging you tightly. you were completely frozen, you didn’t expect him to be that affectionate after what you did to him. "charles, i’m so sorry for leaving." tears were now rolling down your cheeks. he broke the hug and immediately wiped your tears.
"sorry for what?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. his hands rested on your shoulders, his touch soothing you. "i’m not mad at you for leaving, y/n. i just wished i was here with you to help you through the grieving process." he smiled and you looked at the ground. he was too good to you, you didn’t deserve it. "you lost jules too, i acted like i was the only one grieving, i didn’t realise the impact my brother had on people’s lives." charles gently kissed your forehead and stroked your cheek. "let’s talk about that later, let me enjoy your presence, you don’t know how much i missed you." he hugged you once again, and this time you wrapped your arms around him, savouring the moment. "my lucky charm is back in town." you couldn’t refrain your laugh at his cheesy comment.
_
"and charles leclerc wins the monaco grand prix for the first time in his career!" the whole stadium cheered for the monegasque meanwhile you couldn’t stop crying. he won. he won in monaco. it was his goal and he did it. pascale hugged you while cheering for her son, lorenzo and arthur ran to their brother. but you stayed in your seat, looking at him jumping everywhere and celebrating with his brothers and carlos. then, when he turned around to face your direction he did something that sent shivers all over your body. he pointed at you, then at his heart, and then at the sky. this was jules’s celebration every time he’d win something and you were there to support him. he honoured jules even when he finally fulfilled his dream. "jules, you are so loved." you muttered to yourself, looking up at the bright sky.
liked by charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, philippe_bianchi17 and 2 682 789 others.
y/n: coming back in monaco was hard, but i wanted to be here for charlie, i was scared at first because i knew that i handled my brother’s death terribly but in eight years i forgot how kind you were. i finally understood why jules loved you so much. congratulations on winning your first grand prix in monaco! i’m so proud of the man you became charles, i know that my brother is proud of you and will always look after you. je t’aime charlie ♥️
_
charles_leclerc: this one was for you, and of course jules, i’m so happy to have you back, je t’aime aussi ♥️
fan1: i can’t stop crying wtf
fan2: jules’ death affected everyone, even the people who never even met him, like me, he was such an angel
fan3: your brother is proud of you y/n! don’t be too hard on yourself!
fan4: we love you!
fan5: so happy to see you healthy!
fan6: man, this family suffered too much, i hope they’re happy now
fan7: charles and y/n relationship is so cute omg
fan8: the way he dedicated his win to the bianchi siblings 🥺
#f1 fandom#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 instagram au#f1 social media au#f1 x oc#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 au#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#formula one x y/n#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-four | coriolanus snow
「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | murder, getting away with murder, minor character death, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, fingering (f. receiving), hints of edging, blood kink if you squint, creampie, virgin! Coryo lossing virginity | lmk if I forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 the end
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 the last chapter! I probably won't do an epilogue, i am not entirely sure on it yet! But this wraps up their story!! I hope you guys liked it! Make sure to reblog and give ne your feedback!
beta read by an angel (TRUTH) @nowitsmissing
thank you to everyone who was on this journey with me... I love you guys!
masterlist | navigation
Coriolanus finds Lucy Gray near the hanging tree. It was nearly evening. Lucy Gray's eyes were red. Coriolanus ignored the pity he felt. Soon, Lucy Gray would join Sejanus Plinth.
“Lucy Gray,” he hissed, taking her attention away from the tree.
“You'll need to leave,” he said, his voice faking desperation, “to the North. Sejanus would have wanted that.”
“What about you?” Lucy Gray asked, “What about the Covey?”
“The Covey will live, Lucy Gray, you know that. They're strong. They're survivors,” he replied, “as for me, I wish to leave with you. I can't stay in the place that took my friend.”
Coriolanus' eyes quickly filled with tears as soon as he finished. “It's all my fault,” his lips utter, “if only I could have stopped him.”
Lucy Gray looks at him, her face stricken with grief. She doesn't say anything but lets the tears fall down her cheeks. She pulls Coriolanus into a hug.
“The Peacekeepers will look for me, I'll stay in the cabin for the night,” Lucy Gray said. There was a cabin, near the lake, over the fence of the district. Nobody ventures that far except the Covey. Coriolanus and Sejanus only found out about its existence due to their connection with Lucy Gray.
He remembered all the moments he spent there with the Covey. It would be a good place for Lucy Gray to perish. Around all the greens and the music of mockingjays inside the forest.
“I'll meet you there tomorrow in the morning with supplies,” he said, holding Lucy Gray's hand, even giving it a friendly squeeze. He was afraid he was overselling the act but Lucy Gray was too sad to notice how over-the-top friendly Coriolanus was acting.
Lucy Gray nods and turns to leave. Her legs were shaky as she walked. Sejanus and Lucy Gray had to keep their relationship a secret for obvious reasons. But everyone would point at her for the mayor’s daughter's death. It didn't end with Sejanus Plinths' death. It won't because the mayor is trying to root out every single rebel, and surely he won't keep alive the girl his daughter hated so much.
Coriolanus finds his way back to the base. It's night by the time he returns. He climbs up the stairs and walks down the hallway to reach your room. He knocks and waits for you to open the door.
You do.
Coryo tried his best not to get distracted at the sight of you. You were looking so pretty. You look beautiful to him all the time. “Hi,” he gasps out.
“Hey,” you smile, giving him space to walk inside the room. Peacekeepers knew by now that something was going on between him and you. They knew better than to gossip about it though. It was clear you had the power to do anything you wanted. And everyone knew not to mess with someone from the Capitol.
That is why Coriolanus knew even if he spent the night here. He won't get in trouble. He pulls off his Peacekeeper uniform and wears one of the big, oversized sweatshirts you bought from the Capitol. The softness of the fabric makes him shy. He felt like a boy again. It was a feeling he never thought he would enjoy. For a moment, he could pretend he was in the Capitol, in his home, before the games had ever happened.
“You look comfy,” you tease him, as you find your home in his arms.
“I am,” he murmurs, his lips kissing your temple.
“I talked to Lucy Gray,” he informs you, “You were right. She's going to the north and she'll stay in the cabin for the night.”
“Hmm,” you hum, as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder, your lips pressing soft kisses to his pulse. Your arms around him, and his arms around you. Both of you caging each other. The heat of both of your bodies mingled into a pleasant warmth.
“Well, then my revolver will come in handy soon,” you whispered, a bit tired.
“They let you bring one here?” He questions.
“Special privileges,” you replied.
Any other day Coriolanus would feel jealousy pulling at his heart, a frown formatting on his face. Today, he just… didn't care. He didn't care that you had more benefits than him. He didn't care that you lived better than him.
You're his.
Could anything be better than that?
He doesn't think so.
“Typical,” he said, his head now on your shoulders.
“Uh huh,” you add, “Stay the night.”
“Of course, dove.”
You lay down on the bed beside him. His arm was thrown over your waist, and your legs tangled with him. You gently let your nails scratch at his buzz cut. He sighs, relaxing from your touch.
“Tomorrow is a big day,” you remind him, “We'll have to finish everything by noon and catch the train in the evening.”
“We?” He questioned.
“I talked with Dr. Gaul,” you revealed, a bit hesitant, “She wants you back.” You frown, “Don't let the news deter from our plan Coriolanus, it's important we leave no strings behind.”
Coriolanus blinks, trying to take in your words. A smile splits on his face. He couldn't believe this, he had thought he would have to wait for months before Dr. Gaul let him get back to the Capitol. Snow thought she would be petty like that. But you somehow managed to convince her otherwise. It was shocking, to say the least.
“I will go to the Capitol with you tomorrow,” he said. He repeats, “I'll go to the Capitol with you tomorrow!”
You giggled, “Yes, Coriolanus. You thought I would leave you behind? It took some… it doesn't matter. We'll have our happily ever after.”
“I can't believe it,” he whispers, his eyes shining with joy, even with the darkness of the room, you could see his eyes sparkling.
“You should,” you whispered, “now sleep, darling. It's a big day tomorrow.”
Coriolanus couldn't believe it. He pressed your lips against yours. “Thank you,” he lets out, “I love you.” Coriolanus takes your hand, and presses a kiss to your wrist, on the number tattooed on your skin. “I love you, my dove,” he whispered.
“I love you too, pretty boy,” you whispered.
Coriolanus pulls impossible closer as if he were trying to mold both of your souls together. “I am glad you're mine,” he said. He kissed your forehead. “You're mine forever,” he whispered, a hint of darkness, and obsession creeping into his voice.
It made you bite your lower lip as you heard the possessiveness in his voice. “I know,” you replied, “You're mine too.” You add, your voice muffled as your face was pressed into his chest, “Nobody can take you away from me ever again.”
✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧
In the morning, both of you quietly wake up in each other's arms. Coriolanus yawns, “Good morning, dove.” You hum something Coriolanus couldn't hear in reply.
It was so early that the sun had just begun to rise. However, he could hear the sound of rain. Coriolanus quickly gets out of the bed. He softly pats you on the cheek, smiling as you continue to fight the battle against sleep.
“See you soon,” he whispered, taking the revolver you had in your drawer and walking out of the room. He finds himself on his bunk bed, everyone else is sleeping, and he quickly begins to pack things inside of his bags. The supplies he told Lucy Gray about. When he is done, he briefly stops by in front of Sejanus Plinth's bed.
There was a box in which Sejanus Plinth kept his belongings. Coriolanus opens it to find letters, medicine, and two photos. One of Lucy Gray. Another was of Coriolanus and Sejanus, a photo taken from the time during the broadcast of the 10th Games. It seemed like yesterday.
Coriolanus Snow had no explanation for the tears that fell down his cheeks. Sejanus Plinth was dead. Snow had given Dr. Gaul the gun, and you made her pull the trigger. It's in her hands the blood of Sejanus truly was. Not on him nor you.
Coriolanus wipes his tears away. “She's coming soon to you, buddy,” he whispered to the picture. He wondered if Sejanus would thank him for his next actions, or curse him. Coriolanus doesn't think about it much, he leaves.
Soon enough, he reaches the cabin. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out. Lucy Gray opens the door, giving Coriolanus a polite smile. Lucy Gray lets him inside. He enters, looking around the old cabin he has been inside of many times. Coriolanus sets his bag down. Wondering about what he should do next. Should he wait for you? Should he take out the gun and shoot now?
Before he can decide his next actions, Lucy Gray pulls out a knife. “I think I’ll go dig up some Katniss since we got the fire going anyway. There’s a good patch by the lake.”
“I thought they weren’t ready,” he said. Katniss was another word for swamp potato. It grew around here, but just a few days ago Lucy Gray told him it wasn't ready for harvest.
“Two weeks can make a lot of difference,” she said.
“It’s raining,” he objected. “You’ll get soaked.”
She replied, “Well, I’m not made of sugar.”
Coriolanus lets her walk outside. It was a form of mercy, trying to give her some time to run. He knew that Lucy Gray's survival instincts were good. That was the only reason she had survived the arena.
But she won't be able to survive him.
Coriolanus follows her trail after a moment passes. She wasn't down the lake as she promised, but her footsteps were towards the forest. Coriolanus smirks as he takes the revolver out, and gets the gun ready for a shot.
“Let the hunger games begin,” he whispered, “may the odds be in your favor.”
Coriolanus continues to follow her trail quietly and quickly, using the training of being a Peacekeeper. His gun pointed in front of him, ready to be shot the moment he saw her. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out, his voice warm as if he wasn't going to murder, “Where are you? We need to leave soon.”
“Lucy Gray!” He turns when he hears footsteps and shoots, hoping not to miss. The shot met with flesh, the sound booming in his ear, much more overwhelming than the tap tap of the rain. He walks towards the body that is now in front of him. Red blood mixed with the rainwater on the ground, staining the greenery around them.
He shot her right in the chest.
Lucy Gray was dead.
She joined Sejanus Plinth in the afterlife and will spend the rest of eternity cursing Coriolanus. Snow couldn't find himself to clear. He felt relieved. No one can drag him down now. The only way for him was to climb the ladder and reach the peak. Coriolanus uses his feet to turn her dead body around. There was blood dripping down her lips, her dress red and her were nearly closed. She was nothing more than a dead body. Gone was the songbird.
Now it was time to get rid of the body.
He was grateful that the rain would cover the tracks. But he had to be careful as it was easy to slip and get hurt himself. He drags the body without any rush, he thinks of you, waiting in the cabin for him to come back. Both of you will go back to the Capitol. Snow will be together with his family, in the future you'll also become his family. Everything was going to be fine.
This was nothing but a simple stepping stone.
He could feel his arms getting tired but he continued to drag the body by her arms until he reached the edge of the lake. There was a boat. He wondered briefly if he should just take her on the boat and cross to the middle of the river to let her drown. But decided that it would be too much trouble, and pushed her to the river. A big splash occurs. And he could see Lucy Gray slowly but surely falling to her end.
Lucy Gray was gone from this world forever.
He throws the revolver into the river as well. The body would decompose in a matter of days. Everyone would think of her as a traitor. Even if the Covey comes to visit the lake again, they'll never know it's their beloved Lucy Gray's grave.
Coriolanus Snow reaches the cabin and opens the door to see you holding a Peacekeeper’s gun. The same gun he had used to shoot Mayfair and Billy Taupe. “Guess Spruce hid it here,” you grin at him. You were slightly wet from the rain, unlike him, he was soaking wet.
“Yeah,” he lets out, his shoulders relaxed, his face mirroring your smile. “We'll have to throw those in the lake too.”
You chuckled, “Let's not leave any stones unturned.”
Coryo couldn't take it anymore, the adrenaline was too much. “We won't,” he said, as he walked towards you until your back was on the wall. He takes the gun from you and throws it to the side. Neither of you flinch from the loud noise, the two of you too focused on each other instead. He closes the space between the both of you.
“But for now, I want you,” he adds, “No- that's not right. I need you, here.”
He doesn't wait for a reply. He crashed his lips to yours. You find yourself kissing him back. Your tongue exploring his mouth, he sucks at your bottom lip. Not caring that his teeth are digging into your flesh too harshly, that he's responsible for the coppery taste that occurs while you continue kissing.
“You sure?” You gasp as you break the kiss. A string of saliva connecting you both. Coriolanus doesn't reply, he finds his solace from the taste of your skin. He pressed his lips to your neck, sloppily kissing down your pulse. You softly moan, tilting your head to give him more access.
Coryo takes full advantage of that. He was going to claim you any way that he could. Carving his initials on your skin wasn't the only way after all. Cumming inside of you, giving your pretty red hickeys, the print of his fingers on your hips, even the soulmate tattoo you have on your wrist. All these are ways for him to fucking own you.
And own you he shall.
He bites onto your neck as if trying to tear out your flesh. He wants to consume you, soul and all. You cry out, your back arching. Your hips meet his, and he presses his hard bulge against you. He finds himself in between your legs. Your clothed cunt against his denim-cladded cock. You begin to grind against him, as he continues the assault on your neck.
The teeth mark he placed on your skin will remain for days. It will bruise on doubt. Coriolanus didn't have it in him right now to be gentle. He was too fucking drunk on you for that. All of his desires were rushing through, breaking his walls and overwhelming his mind.
“Fuck,” he curses as he realized his lips are red from your blood. His bites had broken your skin and now tiny droplets of blood were forming. He licks them all up and murmurs an apology. He pressed his lips on yours, painting your lips the same shade as his and making you taste yourself. His hips had slowed down the grinding against you.
He steps back and begins to undress. He lets his t-shirt and jeans fall to the ground. He takes his thick cock out of the confines of his boxers. He grips the base of length, trying to control himself as he watches you follow suit.
He pulls you against him again and nods his head towards the floor. You understand his intention and lay down. He bites his lip, sudden nerves overcoming him. He doesn't know what to do despite the raunchy stories he has heard from his fellow Peacekeepers.
Is he supposed to hold your hand or your hips? Should he just push in? Isn't he supposed to prep you first? Or are you wet enough? Fuck… it wasn't the first time he was intimate with you. He hadn't gone all the way but he was familiar with your body. But most of the time he was overwhelmed with his desire to think about what to do or not to do. This time his mind was clear, he was focusing solely on you and he wanted you to experience nothing less of ecstasy from his touch.
“Coryo?” you question, bringing him out of his internal monologue. “Is there anything wrong?”
“I-” he doesn't want to admit, but he knows he has to, “I don't know what to do right now.”
“You can do whatever you like. I'll tell you if you mess up, sweetheart.”
“I know,” he sighs, his eyes on your tits, he licks his lips, “but I am-” He swallows, trying to explain, “I want you. I don't know how to take you. Everything feels like too much or too little.”
You sit up. You gently cradle his cheeks in your hands. “We have all the time in the world, Coryo. What do you wanna do first?”
“I-” He doesn't form a full sentence, instead he kisses you. His hand is on your nape and another trailing down your body as he softly nips at your lips. He dips down his hand in between your legs, he pressed his palm onto your cunt. He lets himself be coated by your arousal. His breath hitches as he feels your heat in such an obscene way.
“Oh,” he whispered as he pressed a single finger inside of your walls. “I missed this.” He remembers the night when he first felt your tight, slick walls like this. He was rough that night, a bit mean too. Coriolanus wasn't going to be the same today. He plans to worship you.
He begins to slowly thrust his index finger inside of you. His head on your shoulder, his lips kissing any inch of skin he could find as he continues to stretch you out with a single finger. Then he adds another one, he was met with resistance, but he pressed his thumb to your clit. That makes you gasp, your cunt squeezing around his fingers when his thumb begins to draw small circles on the bud.
“Relax, dove,” he whispered, giving you goosebumps.
He doesn't begin to move his fingers even when you whine impatiently, your walls twitching around his digits. Once he deems that you're relaxed enough, he begins to slowly push inside of your pussy, as deep as his fingers could reach. He was trying his best to get you ready for his cock.
His fingertips begin to press into your walls, trying to find that one spot that would get you drunk on him as much as he's drunk on you. He knows he found the spot when he feels your walls pulse around his digits like it had a heartbeat of its own. You gasp his name and he smirks. He whispers to your ear, “That's it, huh?”
“Yes!” You moan, “Faster!”
Coriolanus Snow obeys because he can never say no to you. He begins to fuck his fingers inside of you faster, slipping his ring finger inside of you as well. He thrusts his digits fast and hard, he groans as he sees your pussy stretched to accommodate his long digits. He keeps his fingers slightly curved so that with each thrust he would press into your g-spot.
“Fuck, fuck, you're so pretty.”
Coriolanus couldn't be sure if he was saying that to you, or your cunt. He continues to keep up his speed, the sloppy, wet sounds of your pussy louder than of the rain. Coriolanus could hear you moan his name as he feels your pussy get impossibly tighter around his digits before your walls begin to spasm all over, locking his digits in. He doesn't pull them out, instead, he continues to press hard onto your spongy pleasure spot until you whine his name.
Your juices were now all over his fingers. He didn't waste a second to taste them. He looks into your eyes as he licks his digits clean. He runs his tongue between the spaces of his fingers, making sure he doesn't miss a single spot. When he's done, you pull him in for a kiss. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself, you find yourself in his lap, his back pressed to the wooden floor.
Your hand pulls at the dog tag he wore. You use the necklace like a leash, pulling at it like he's a dog you're commanding. You wrap your fingers around it, your thumb caressing the metal pendant. “You're mine,” you whispered in wonder, “You taste of me.”
Coriolanus nods, agreeing to whatever you say. He just wants you! That's it. Ruin him. Ruin him for everybody else forever! You have that power. Take it and use it, that's all he wants.
You raise your hips, taking his cock in your hand. You pressed his tip against your clit, you gasped as you slowly began to rub his cockhead against your pearl. His pre-cum coating your bud, and soon all over your cunt. You were teasing him every time you let his cockhead get near your slit, but you don't let him slip inside of you. He lets out a whimper when you do it again.
Coriolanus finds out how easily he could make you. He switches the position within a split second, his hands on your hips as he uses his weight to press you down. You don't fight back. He growls out your name, his eyes flashing in annoyan
“Please-” he whines, “stop teasing.”
“Make me,” you smirk.
Coriolanus finds out how easily he could make you. He switches the position within a split second, his hands on your hips as he uses his weight to press you down. You don't fight back. He growls out your name, his eyes flashing in annoyance as if in retaliation he kisses you roughly.
“Don't-” kiss, “Play-,” kiss, “With-” kiss, “Me.”
“Not when I have waited for you for so long,” he adds.
His fingers pressed into your flesh. He gets a hold of his length and pressed it to your slit. “Can I?” He asked you, he wanted your permission. He needs your ‘yes’ before he takes you as his forever.
“Of course, Coryo.”
He begins to push in his tip, his length slipping inside of you with ease. He gasps as he feels your warmth all over his cock. The feeling is so overwhelming that he has to stop midway to not cum right away. He squeezed the base of his dick before he continued to push inside of you again, slowly inch by inch. He breathes through his mouth, his eyes closed as pleasure fills every corner of his mind. You felt perfect.
“You feel so good,” he whines.
His cock twitched inside of your walls. He bites the inside of his mouth, trying to use pain to distract himself from the mind-blowing pleasure. Meanwhile, you clenched your pussy as if to see how much his cock had stretched you. The two of you gasped from the feeling.
“Fuc- ah!”
Coryo pulls out a few of his inches and begins to thrust in. You moan out, feeling pleasure in your veins and seeing stars in your eyes. Snow's hands were on either side of your head as he balanced himself above you. His dog tag dangles in front of your lips as his hips continue to move. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing his cock even deeper into you. Coriolanus lets out a groan from the feeling.
“I won't be able to last long,” he admits, his cheeks getting red. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he couldn't help but feel ashamed about how heavy his balls were with cum ready to be released inside of you.
“You will,” you whispered your hand on his nape. You squeeze it. “You will last as long as I fucking want, Coriolanus,” you said to him, pulling him down to meet your lips. The kiss was messy and open-mouthed. Another hand of yours was on his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin. You were marking him in your own way. With long, red scratches.
Coriolanus slows down, ready to please you however you want. You moan into his mouth and he eats the sound up. Coriolanus thrusts his hips faster, unable to truly control himself. How could he when you made him feel this good? He couldn't decide on the pace. He wanted this to last hours. He wanted to cum.
He kept switching between fast and slow until he found himself with his back on the floor. You are on top of him, your hands holding his hands above his head. “Be a good boy,” you said to him before you began to ride him.
You grind yourself against his cock, letting his cockhead kiss your spongy spot with each movement of your hips. Your arousal was coating your thighs and now it was on his skin as well. You were so wet and messy. Coriolanus loved it. You use one hand of yours to play with his balls. Coriolanus could feel his eyes rolling back.
“Don't- I-” he cries out in bliss when you squeeze his balls gently. You hush him with a kiss, your hips moving according to your will. You had set the perfect pace. It wasn't too much for either of you, letting the pleasure be prolonged.
He knew you were close with the way your push was contracting on his shaft. He knew you were close because your eyes were closed and fuck, you were cock drunk on him. He knew you were close because you had slowed down, and now rocking your hips back and forth. The hold you had on his hands had loosened. He breaks free without a fuss and places his hands on your hips.
He begins to push his hips up, fucking his cock into you. You whine, your eyes opening as you see him take control again. His teeth pulled at his lower lip, silencing his groans as he continues to fuck into you in this position. You use one of your hands to rub at your sensitive clit, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.
You tense, your pussy tightening around Coriolanus’ cock. Your only warning was the moan of his name as your cunt begins to spasm around his dick. Coriolanus lets out a deep groan, his lower lip bloody from how hard his teeth dug into the flesh. He fucks you throughout your orgasm.
“Get off,” he whines, “I can't cum inside of you.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
Coriolanus doesn't realize he's coming inside of you until he feels like jelly. He had stuffed you full of his thick, hot cum without a warning. But you had already stated you didn't give a fuck. So he supposed it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had you now.
Forever.
✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧
Hours later, you and Coriolanus find yourself at the train station. Ready to go back to the Capitol, once and for all. Commander Hoff had personally come to escort you both.
Coriolanus was about to enter the train. You were already inside. But Commander Hoff stops him, “Son.” Coriolanus stills, waiting to hear what Hoff has to say.
“Don't let her go. You don't know what she had to keep you safe.”
Coriolanus looks Commander Hoff in the eyes and nods. “I won't,” he promises, knowing damn well he will keep it with his life. Coriolanus gets inside the train after saying goodbye. He stops before he opens the door to the cabin you were sitting in. He pulls up the sleeve of his shirt to look at his wrist. He grins as he sees the scar reverted to the number most important to you.
It was today's date.
Coriolanus slides the door and walks to his future.
Coriolanus walks to you.
#character x reader#x you#x female reader#x reader#fem reader#coriolanus snow#smut#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus imagine#president coriolanus snow#coriolanus smut#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coriolanus snow x reader smut#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x you#snow x reader#snow smut#tom blyth#tbosas x you#thg tbosas#tbosas x reader#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas#the hunger games
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War & crack II
—Task Force 141 x young!reader
—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic
—Warnings: none
Part One / Halloween special
yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣
─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.
─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.
─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.
─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.
─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.
─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).
─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.
─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.
─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.
─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.
─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.
─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.
─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.
─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...
─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.
─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.
— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.
─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.
─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.
─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.
─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.
─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.
─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.
─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.
─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.
─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).
— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.
— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.
— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.
— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.
— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.
— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.
— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.
— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.
— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.
— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.
— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.
— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?
#cod#cod headcanons#reader insert#call of duty#cod x reader#cod x y/n#cod x gen z#gen z#gen z reader#headcanons#sfw#platonic reader#cod x platonic reader#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#platonic tf 141#tf 141 x platonic reader#tf 141 x gen z#young reader#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#x reader
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『♡』 Rises the Moon
♡ featuring: dan heng IL x f!reader
♡ summary: you help dan heng work through his heat cycle wc: 3.1k+
♡ cw/tw: canon-divergent, breeding, praise, kinda sad but wholesome, monster-fucking, heat cycle, blowjob, cunnilingus, mentions of blood, biting
notes: super canon divergent ik vidyadhara can't have kids but ahhh dan heng breed brainrot :P ruahh I need that lc
Cracked from a shimmering pearl into the cold deception of a ship no longer home, that damned his ill-fated legacy. A lonely forgone dragon wanders a lifetime in purgatory, searching for hands to follow, for he was reborn into the dead silence of solitude. He stretched his inhuman heart as far as it could reach, enough for anyone to hold. But it twisted and tangled in thorns, cradled by serpents' eyes that prayed for his ruin. In brief moments of rest, his visions were suffocated with catastrophic destruction unbeknownst to the reincarnate. When he was eventually released, no one turned for him; a trail of fire he would have to walk alone, bleeding for repentance until his sin was permanently consumed by the collapsing universe.
A race cursed to live forever rarely knew joy or love to its full extent, as all things mortal would return to the ground beneath them. It wasn’t worth the attachment, nor the deserved doom of a man denied salvation.
Your arrival at the space station upturned his perception. He wasn’t sure why he yearned to be near you, why his senses craved your smell and sight. He had to distance himself from you as much as possible, but the melody of your pure voice stored a rhythm in his core that could not be removed. He lamented the blooming affection in his discernment. Often lying awake at night, struggling to satiate the urges.
To you, he was Dan Heng. The solemn, headstrong friend that seldom spoke in your presence. Your favorite pastime was playful banter; he rarely smiled, but it pulled at your heartstrings when the corners of his lips slightly lifted. When he picked at his food, you went out of your way to find out what he preferred and arranged your meals around his. You spent almost all of your time on the parlor car. That isn’t to say you weren’t interested in adventuring, you frequently noted the prettiest gems March showed you during their trips. You asked Dan about the stuff he enjoyed, but it’d usually amount to “I was too focused on staying alive to take in the scenery.” You recall entering your room after their return and noticed an iron scrap flower sitting on your windowsill. Dan nonchalantly admitted to the act, mentioning how he overheard your liking for metallic constructs. You originally thought this was simply an extension of your friendship, but the burning ache in your body spoke otherwise. The little things he did, such as bringing small gifts or ingredients for you to experiment with made you seek that numbed heart, imprisoned in ice.
Himeko joked about your sour mood whenever Dan Heng was gone. You read while she stared at you, amused by the pout on your face. “Hmm, your boy toy is missing. Feeling down?” Your head shot up, ears hot from the assumption.
“W-what? No, of course not. We’re friends, Himeko.” you panicked. She softly giggled.
“Don’t worry. They’re coming back soon.” You peeked up from the pages.
“...When?” you mumbled. “A few days. Now you can stop being so sad.”
You were ecstatic when they arrived, ready to hear about their grueling journey, and more so happy to see Dan Heng. As March relived her storytelling, you observed him. He seemed to be in a trance. His expression was the same as always, but he felt disconnected from you, like he discerned a grim future. He didn’t come to dinner and went to sleep. When you asked March if something happened, she shifted uncomfortably but finally spoke.
“Dan Heng...he changed on the Xianzhou Luofu.” She’d conveniently left out most of the story.
“What do you mean ‘changed’?” you questioned, finding it hard to mask your worries. “He had horns and... It was all really new. I kinda wanna forget about it, too.” You didn’t pressure her for more information, and she went to her room shortly after. You tossed in your sleep, wondering what he must’ve gone through, and what you could do to help him.
You awoke in an inky blue void, the stars cascading a brilliant aura across the night. There were no other planets visible; only the vast moon, a divinely warm glow, alluring and protective in your gaze. Heavenly bodies carried infinitely above, shaping the moon in its godlike image. You stood in a comparatively small pool of iridescent liquid that waterfalled off each side. It marbled from refracted shimmers, cool to the touch. Somehow life emerged in the barren quiet, white lotus’ decorating most of the area. They never spilled down the stream, as if they'd been waiting. In said pool, was a man with elvish ears and gleaming horns, kneeling turned away from you. His pale arms were shackled behind him, and his delicate hair cascaded down his naked back. If you listened closely, you could hear the faint sobs he tried to stifle. You wanted to comfort him, to calm his nerves. You took a step, and he stopped. He didn’t acknowledge you. You took another step, your hand wishing to touch him. Before you could, you phased out of your dream.
For the next two weeks, he didn’t leave his room. Not when you were around. At the same time, this reoccurring dream was plaguing your thoughts. It ended the same way each time. March aimed to console you, but you felt she knew more than she led on. Fatigued from your restless mind, you decide to talk to Himeko instead. She stirs her drink while Welt reads the paper.
“Good morning, (Y/N).” said Welt.
“Good...morning.” you yawned, rubbing your worsening eyebags.
“You don’t seem okay. Is everything alright?” Himeko asks, motioning for you to sit beside her.
“Something is wrong with Dan Heng and March isn’t telling me everything. I was hoping you would.” Welt clears his throat, sets the paper on the table and walks away. Himeko puts her hand on your knee.
“He’s feeling unwell right now. It’s best we don’t disturb him.”
“I’ve been having this weird dream, of a guy with horns. He’s crying. And I can’t save him. What does this mean? Why is everyone keeping this from me?” Alarm flashes in her expression, but she composes herself. She sucks in a deep breath. “Do you know what a Vidyadhara is?”
“No.”
“Vidyadhara descended from dragons, and they’re very powerful. Dan Heng is a special case of Vidyadhara, so we must treat him as such.”
“So why can’t I see him?”
“It’s important that we avoid him while he’s in the process of...getting through this.”
“But someone has to check on him, right? I could be the one to do it-”
“(Y/N). Dan Heng requested specifically, that I don’t allow you to see him.” You felt your heart pierce. You believed you were friends with him, so why was he forcing you away? “Oh. Okay.” you said meekly. You went back to your room to contemplate.
You were a ghost throughout the day, serving food in silence. When the crew went to bed you prepared a hearty soup to soothe whatever illness he had. He’d probably reject it, but the selfish side wanted to know why he was upset with you. Even if he didn’t have an answer, perhaps his voice would be adequate. Arriving at his door, you knock twice gently.
“I have some soup for you. Himeko said you were feeling ill. I won’t disrupt you, just want to make sure you’re eating.” He said nothing. “If you’re not hungry, let me know and I can store it for tomorrow. You can’t get better on an empty stomach.” You hear rustling inside, but he still said nothing.
“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I did.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, but I need you to go away.” His voice is feeble, and it scares you.
“Can I please leave this on your desk? I’ll go away right after, I promise.” You 're practically begging, but you need to see him and know he’s okay. Dan Heng’s weakening mindset rationalizes his risky judgement, and he allows you to come in. He should be able to defend you from himself with the strength he has left; there’s no other choice. “Okay.”
When you open the door, you’re horrified at the state. Books and precious documents were strewn across the floor or shredded, along with most of the blankets. He’s hunched over on the futon clenching his abdomen, strands of hair sticking to his shiny forehead and puffy lips. He was in a form you've never seen, dressed in elegance in contrast to his shaking figure. The clothes were disheveled, however, the window on his top ripped down the middle, exposing the muscular torso underneath with his pants pulled just under his v-line. He's flushed and sweating, a look in his eyes that both terrifies and excites you. What was most shocking were the pointy ears and horns protruding from his head. The same ones from your dream. He tracks you as you walk to his desk. He’s undoubtedly weak, and yet you feel hunted. You set the soup down.
“Shouldn’t you ask Bailu about this?”
“I did already. There’s nothing she can do. I have to wait.” You get on your knees next to him, and he recoils from your proximity.
“Wait for what?”
“I'm hot all over, all the time. Nothing I do works, even when I feel good it’s not enough.” he rasps. His eyes are shut in an attempt to null the intense sensation blazing in his veins. You ultimately realize what he means and regret your cluelessness. Still, you don’t leave, deconstructing his resolve. Suddenly, Dan Heng feels the tender press of your palm to his forehead; the touch of someone he could recognize in different timelines and different bodies. The scent of morning dew at early sunrise, the light in its darkness, bitter and sweet and persistent. He punished the thought of ravaging you, but the incessant thump of his member was staggering. He grabs your wrist tight, a guilty look in his eyes.
“I can’t control myself. Go. Now” he shouts. His anger doesn’t scare you, and your other hand caresses his cheek.
“Does it hurt? I can help you.” Dan Heng’s frozen as your fingers travel down his Adam's apple, then his chest, to the hem of his bottoms. He’s on his back taking deep labored breaths, the print growing from your airy brushes.
“I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.”
You spring his cock free, and it bounces into your hand. It’s thick and almost twelve inches, a rosy-brown gradient to the mushroom tip. His veins dance around the rounded spikes lining up his shaft on both sides. A frustrated sigh leaves him, beads of pre come dripping down his balls. You lubricate your hands with his slick and start to slowly pump him. His head is spinning, the intoxicating ecstasy makes him rut his hips and bite his blushed lips. You fondle his balls with one hand while massaging the tip with the other. Whimpers echo pleasantly in your ears, and he can’t stop watching you, drinking up your shy glances. It twitches in your hold; you can feel how close he is. He’s falling apart because of you and your dampened underwear accepts it. You push your thumb in his mouth and part it to reveal excessive drool and sharp canines.
“Do you like it?” you tease. He makes noise resembling an “uh huh” through teary eyes.
“You wanna come?” He quivers from the question. He can only manage a moan. You move to his base, and you slaver at the daunting size before running your tongue along the urethra and taking him in your mouth. He throws his head back but tries to restrain himself from bucking into you. You can barely get it halfway as his cockhead kisses the back of your throat. You hollow your cheeks and start bobbing your head, he trembles from unconstrained pleasure.
“Please, I’ll do anything please let me come” he whines, tears spilling down his cheeks. You move your hands with the suction along his gradually noisy whimpers, the occasional gag from sloppy grinding.
“Ah, ‘m gonna come-” he chokes, his chest hitched rapidly, spurting ropes that flood your throat. He rides the wave against you until you pull up. When you meet with him again, his demeanor changes. He instantly snatches you into his arms and smothers his nose in your stomach. He tears your clothes off impatiently, just to taste your bare skin. “Dan-”
“You smell so good. Aeons, why do you smell so good.” He gazes at you darkly, littering wet kisses across your stomach and chest. His slender hands grope and explore anything they can reach. It was like he had a burst of energy; he nearly lifts you off his lap. You notice his horns get progressively longer, a dim radiance outlining them. His nails grew too, they dragged light scratches over your breasts to your hips. He pulls you to him, lips barely hovering before they collide into a deep, passionate exchange. Unspoken words allow teeth and tongue to mix, and you moan into each other. The pheromones hugging his consciousness are addictive, he needs more of it. He promptly flips you on your back, his eyes look down on you with a starving glint.
“I’m hungry now.”
“Oh sure, I can warm up the-”
“No. Let me eat you.” His statement was more of a demand than a request, as he mangles your panties down your legs. He forces your thighs back and appreciates the glistening sticky folds. “Stunning” he purrs. He licks a flat strip to your clit and laps up your juices, then envelops his mouth in your heat. His firm squeeze prevents you from escaping the determined pink muscle, swirling and twisting around you. He switches between French kisses to your vulva and merciless sucking on the erect bud. He’d rather drown in you than catch his breath, your essence covers his jaw and chin. You card your fingers through his scalp and accidentally sweep his horns; he shudders. You rub the pad of your thumb on it, earning a strangled whimper. His tongue sinks into your passage and begins to move at a brutal pace. You tease the sensitivity in his horns, flicking and circling them. The vibrations from his moans rock against your walls and your hips stutter. “Ah- I’m close” you plead. He stimulates your clit, and you pulse around him before your back arches, and you unwind. His mouth is stitched to you as you try to wriggle out of his grasp. He continues to devour your climax. He hoists your lower half off the ground, savoring your honeyed desire, laughing from your overstimulated cries. You’re spasming and feel your heart racing in your ears. He stops at the approaching precipice and lays you down. Balmy kisses dot your knees.
“Please Dan Heng, more” you beg.
“(Y/N), I don’t want to hurt you.” He's throbbing, and he straightens your legs to roll his hips between your thighs. The plush fat cuddles his cock and he pants. You grab his hand.
“It’s okay, I’m yours. I know you don’t mean to hurt me.”
“But-”
“I love you” you blurt out. “Please, I want to have this with you. I can handle it, I promise.” Your vulnerability surprises you, and he stops.
“You...love me?” he questions. For a split second, you see sadness and despair. No one stood to consider an exile incapable of love, but you did. No one bothered to defrost the drifting hollow, but you did. The undying weeps.
“I love you. I would destroy every star and planet in your name. Carve your worth into the cosmos so that even Fuli could worship your memory. I am yours in its entirety, and I’ll only live for you.” You wipe the tears as they come down and kiss his troubles away.
“I want you inside me” you whisper. He stands and scoops you up, his hands on your ass and your arms around his neck. He aligns his tip with your sex and lowers you into the plunge. The stretching blaze of your walls accommodating his girth is excruciating.
“Is this okay?”
“Yes.” You give him a reassuring smile. He’s stuffing you full, the spikes knead your inner walls the deeper he goes. He bottoms out and stays there for a while.
“Tell me when to move” he soothes.
“Go ahead.” He starts an unrelenting tempo, and you grip him like a vice, your arousal drenching his balls. The thundering sound of desperate huffs and squelching, smacking flesh is almost embarrassing; you both don’t care, indulging each other. You could’ve sworn you saw something similar to a dragon's tail swaying behind him, or maybe your mind played tricks on you. Strings of saliva connect his fangs, eyes cloudy with carnal impulse and cock twitching from the friction. He can see the bulge snapping in and out of your stomach and groans.
“Deeper.” He pulls out and lays you on the futon before positioning you in a mating press. In one swoop he jackhammers your cunt, balls swinging and ragged breath on your ear. His hair blankets you and you soak in his sweating physique, his needy appearance.
“Gonna breed this pretty pussy” he moans. Eyeing the unoccupied space on your neck, he salivates. You guide his lips to your neck, encouraging him, and he takes the bait. He ruptures the skin with sharp teeth; harsh puncture wounds remain. He licks the blood away, adamant on claiming you. The spikes massage your g-spot, and your eyes loll back, pleasure and pain blurring. Dan Heng loses his composure, frenetic thrusting as he chases his release.
“I’m gonna come!”
“That’s it, come with me, my love” he groans. You see black as tremors overtake you and a stream of squirt coats you both. Your wails flow into the halls. Your contracting vulva sends him over the edge, and he finally comes undone, painting your insides to the hilt. You milk every last drop of his gushing seed, and he jerks a few times until limp. The creamy, swelling base pushes your folds to capacity. It's barbed wire in your gut. He strokes and kisses your face.
“I'm sorry, it’ll go down soon.” With your legs wrapped around him and his head snug against your cheek, you weren’t sure if you wanted it to go down.
His curse may not be lifted through your embrace. But in your arms, his shackles don't feel as heavy.
#honkai star rail smut#honkai star rail#dan heng smut#dan heng il#dan heng#dan heng x reader#dan heng hsr#dan heng imbibitor lunae#imbibitor lunae
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Hi, I've just discovered your page, and I love all your stories, Especially the Alastor x Readers. So, I was just wondering if you could do an Alastor x Fem Reader, like how would he react to his doe announcing being pregnant/ How would he be as a dad? Also the same for Lucifer? if it's not too much?
Family Man
Alastor x GN!Reader, Lucifer x GN! Reader
A/N: Hihi! Thank you so much for requesting friend! I made this more into a headcanon/fic thing! Thank you for your kind words, friend!
TW:Pregnancy, anxiety that comes with that topic, Alastor being Alastor
Alastor:
-🦌 First off when you told him, he was silent for a very very long time. I’m talking full on deer in headlights moment, he stayed like that for an hour. Your poor husband was confused and his brain had to reboot.
-🦌 Once he gets out of his funk, he’s going to ask you if your okay with that and if having a family is what you want. Don’t get me wrong, he’s excited but he’s also extremely nervous. He never thought of himself as a family man.
-🦌 It’s not that he hates kids or children in general he just never saw the interest in them. Little tiny humans running around just didn’t appeal to him, he also didn’t have time when he was alive. Ya know between killing and running his radio show.
-🦌 But once he makes sure it’s what you wanted? He’s going all out, I’m talking about getting everything from a bigger room in the hotel to little baby clothes (he acts like he’s uninterested but by Lucifer you catch his eyes lingering a little too long with a certain softness).
-🦌 Won’t let you lift a finger at all (not like he didn’t before). 100% more overprotective than anything. You want to go out on a walk? He’s with you immediately, arm wrapped around your waist. He can’t go with you? His shadows are following you.
Alastor was in the middle of a conversation disagreement with Husk before his focus was pulled away seeing you put on your coat, “Darling, where are you off to on this fine Hellish afternoon?” He asked, appearing behind you with his arm wrapped around your waist as he bent down to gently kiss your cheek. “Going on walk,” You hummed as he sent a gaze down towards your growing belly. “Perfect!~ Maybe if you're up for it we can stop by Cannibal Town to speak with Rosie~” He hummed, forgetting all about the conversation from before his focus mainly on you.
-🦌 Speaking of Rosie, once she knows about your pregnancy she’d be over the moon and makes it her mission to watch over you if Alastor has “business” murder to attend to as well as makes herself an Auntie. You didn’t mind at all.
-🦌 Once you go into labor? He is right beside you wiping your forehead and allowing you to squeeze his hand as much as you want. As well as making death threats to whoever was helping you deliver the baby whether that be a doctor or someone from the Hotel. He has very creative ways of explaining how he would skin someone from head to toe. If you weren’t in so much pain (and delirious from the medication) you would’ve told him to chill.
-🦌 Now once the baby is in your arms and he’s calmed down significantly, he’s going to be pampering you and his child. He doesn’t care for what the gender of his child is, he just wants you and his child to be happy.
-🦌 Now, this might go without saying but Alastor is a Mama’s boy through and through so if he does end up having a daughter there is a chance he might name her after his mother in someway. If it’s a boy, he’ll allow you to have full reign on the naming process while giving his input as well.
-🦌 Now, I see Alastor as a laid back but strict parent. He’ll allow his kid(s) to have full reign and learn what hurts them or not. But will step in if they are truly in danger or about to get seriously hurt. Will give out amazing advice when needed. But most likely will stay back.
-🦌 No matter the gender of his kid(s), they will sit with him in his radio tower as he shows them what does what. He does this mostly when they are babies or toddlers when they get older he actually teaches them on what does what and how to successfully run a radio show. You have caught him doing this multiple times and he has yet to apologize cause they need to know how important radio is.
You were making your way up to your husband’s tower as you had a sneaking suspicion that he had once again taken your child up there. As you entered through the hatch you watched the display of your husband holding the sleeping toddler in his arms as he rocked back and forth. “These dials right here help you change the frequency and volume of your show..” he softly whispered out his ears, flickering noting your sudden appearance. You walked over as quietly as you could watching as the small tail on your toddler wagged in their sleep. You didn’t dare disrupt him now as he had a way of getting them to bed easily.
-🦌 Overall, he would be great in some aspects. Once again very laid back but still very much present and active in everything involving both you and your child together. He has some flaws in his parenting but honestly who doesn’t. 7/10 in my books.
-🦌 Oh also- Dad jokes all day, every day. He once again will not apologize, good luck.
Lucifer:
-🍎 Oh boy our favorite short King in the house. He’s done this rodeo for Charlie all those years ago, he knows what to do.
-🍎 But once you tell him in the form of rubber duckies (idk that seems so cute to me) he looks up at you confused before he starts bawling. Don’t worry it’s because he is super excited and he’s an emotional guy, please give him hugs and kisses.
-🍎 Once he is done crying, he picks you up and spins you around before the anxiety sets in. Do you want to be a parent? What if he isn’t a good father? What he fucks up again?
-🍎 Please reassure him and give him more kisses, tell him you do want to be a parent with him and he’ll be a great father and if he fucks up, you’ll be there 100% of the way to help him back on the right track. He appreciates you so much.
-🍎 He is super nervous to tell Charlie cause what if she doesn’t approve? What if she gets upset? She doesn’t, Charlie is super super excited to have another sibling and when she hears the news she cries much like her father. So now you have your husband and stepdaughter sobbing in each other’s arms.
-🍎 Charlie convinces you both to do a baby shower/gender reveal party at the hotel. Vaggie makes sure to keep the troublemakers Angel and Alastor at bay. Lucifer the whole time is making sure you're alright and comfortable while also crying at the tiny baby booties.
You smiled at your husband who was walking back with a glass of water for you, “Are you okay? Do you need anything else, Darling?” He whispered out sitting next to you, making you smile and shake your head. “I’m fine, Luci..go enjoy the baby shower Charlie set up for us..” You whispered out watching as he pouted at the thought of leaving you his very pregnant spouse.
-🍎 Idk why but my brain just wants Lucifer to have twins so bam- he’s gonna have twins now. Poor man had to let his brain reset for a hot minute cause now he’s gonna have double the babies. He will cry so please hug him close again.
-🍎 Oh boy oh boy when you go into labor? He is the best person to go to, he’ll let you scream and curse at him while he comforts you and gives you little kisses between praises. Wiping the sweat and tears from your face while allowing you to squeeze his hand.
-🍎 When he holds the twins? He cries most definitely and promises to do everything he can to make his babies happy.
-🍎 Another man who doesn’t care what the gender of his babies are, if they are healthy and happy he is happy. The possibilities here for names are endless. The babies most definitely get his blonde hair and rosy red cheeks.
-🍎 Now having twins gives him the opportunity to be like, “Not only do I have one cute baby, I have TWO” and proceeds to turn around to show the other baby happily sleeping in a baby sling. You always laugh cause why is your husband so cute?
-🍎 You both need a break or want to go out on a date and can’t get a babysitter? Not to worry Big Sis Charlie is to the rescue with Vaggie and the rest of the crew!
“Are you sure Charlie? We can find someone else if you're too busy.” You asked, feeling horrible but Charlie happily waved off your concern, “Nonsense! I’d love nothing more than to look after my siblings as you and dad go take some well needed rest!” She hummed, glancing over at Vaggie who was happily holding one of the sleeping twins and Lucifer glaring at Alastor who was watching from afar. “Okay, if you're sure..If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.” You replied watching as your other baby happily chomped on your husband’s finger with the amount of confidence only babies seem to have.
-🍎 Overall, Lucifer’s parenting style is great! He’s a little anxious but who isn’t when dealing with babies, he’ll mess up sure but once again lead him in the right direction and he’ll be fine. I’d give him a 9/10 here. Minus one point because of the dad jokes mixing with the duck jokes (but that’s what we love about him no? It’s mostly the dad jokes.)
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x you#gn reader#alastor x gn!reader#hazbin lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x gn!reader
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Smallest Drop - Part 2
Summary: Seeing as part one went well, I present to you the continuation but this time, from Astarion's point of view. Thank you all so much for your support. It makes me so happy to know the fandom is enjoying my work.
He honestly doesn't know what Tav wants from him or why she keeps stirring weird emotions in him and she only further confuses when she presents him with a thoughtful gift.
There will be a part 3. Tav is not mentioned by name.
Content Warnings: She/Her Tav
Word Count: 2.2k words
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
Astarion never considered himself particularly lucky but he knew how to adapt to situations beyond his control – keep himself alive and everything. He’d proven himself to be talented enough to seduce well, just about anyone.
Just about anybody it would seem but not a single member of the strangest group imaginable, also known as the one he’d chosen to travel with.
Because luck would mean the most frustrating woman in the world would be the one he aimed to… shall he say, convince about the benefits of staying close to his side.
Oh, she wasn’t exactly immune to his charms. He could see the effects when he moved close to her and her lips curled into a natural smile, attention flickering to him in anticipation of what he wanted to say. She brushed against his shoulder whenever she wanted to pass and laughed at his snide remarks.
All the things that he would usually consider a success; a sign he’d managed to win her heart in some form.
But then, she also went and did the absolute opposite.
Instead of pulling him aside in the camp when he offered and allowing him to drag his lips along her throat, she dragged him into the middle of the group to socialize. She leaned into his touches and then ran off to help save another puppy or whatever else caught her attention.
It annoyed Astarion because he knew she liked him but he didn’t know what she wanted from him. They’d spent one evening together and she appeared keen on more but then rather spent her nights teaching an owlbear how to sit.
Admittedly, a very cute pastime but still.
She ran a bath for him, washed his hair, and then promptly left him alone in the water instead of joining him for some fun. If he understood, he could easily provide but she made the first part infuriatingly difficult.
“Alright,” he said after she’d caught him staring into a blank mirror and spurned agitation in him by reminding him that he didn’t, in fact, know what colour his eyes once were. “Tell me what you see when you look at me. Surely you can describe my appearance well enough.”
She giggled and put a hand to her chin, as though considering. “I think we’d be sitting here the whole night if I did that. You’re so pretty, it’s unfair.”
Pride curled hot in his chest and his irritation simmered. Amazing how easily she managed to do such a thing. “Oh? Then name your favourite.”
She reached out to brush a strand of hair away from his face, freezing only when the action had already startled both of them. Astarion wondered why she stopped for only a second before he realised he’d shifted away from the touch, a movement done on instinct rather than thought.
Shit. That wasn’t going to help him.
She dropped her hand as though nothing happened. “I refuse to believe becoming a vampire changed you that much. There’s no way you weren’t this gorgeous before.”
She knew how to appeal to his vanity and the strangest thing about it was, he didn’t feel as though she did it on purpose. Her ceaseless flattery came naturally to her.
“It’s been over two hundred years since I last saw it and memories fade.”
A lie but not an important one. He remembered everything since the day he woke up in his coffin, panicked and struggling to breath though he didn’t need to. The pain of transforming, the agony of starvation, and unending confusion. Nothing slipped away and he hated it. Despised how the memories shoved their way forward.
But for now, he refused to think of them and instead waited to see what she thought of. She pressed her lips together tightly before she spoke.
“The first thing I noticed when I met you were your eyes. They’re red, obviously, but they’re also strong and piercing. You also get these crinkles beside them when you laugh.”
Again with the strangest compliments. Still, he took them in his stride this time. “That’s better. What else?”
“The way you smile. It’s dangerous and sharp but occasionally, genuine. It’s enough to charm anybody, I would say.”
He offered her a smile in response, pleased with the praise. He preened beneath her pretty words and happily took the knowledge close to heart. Meaningless flattery had always been one of his favourite things.
“Now just tell me I’m beautiful and we’ll call it a day.”
She laughed and tilted her head to the side. “You’re beautiful. I thought that much was obvious.”
But something in the way she said it ruined everything. She took the most boring compliment of the lot and meant it deeper than all the others. The teasing tone easily exposed the truth and the pride disappeared, replaced by something he couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Thank you,” he said. “Now was there any real reason for you to make your way over here?”
She didn’t really want anything but he’d almost expected it. Everything she found on their journey eventually got shared with him and today, she spoke about some woman’s letter she’d found. Nothing important.
Astarion thought that would be the end of it.
He continued to flatter her to make sure she always preferred him above their other companions and was rewarded when she continued to seek him out first. An entirely selfish action truly but she offered him a path forward.
The others had their strengths but something about her united them the best. If a chance existed where he could retain this ability to stand in the sun, he had no doubt she would be his best way there.
Even if she did insist on carrying about so much nonsense she found whenever they went out and helped every person with the smallest problems.
But then she found an empty book lying on the floor somewhere and she immediately began staring at him whenever it was open, scribbling away inside but always staring at him over the edges. Every time he offered her a quizzical glance, she smiled and continued with whatever she was doing.
She showed it to Wyll and Gale a few times but never brought it over for him to see.
Of course, if Astarion really wanted to, he could find what waited in those pages easily.
The parasite provided an easy path forward but she would know he wanted something when he dug around in her head. He didn’t sleep most nights but she rested deeply; deeply enough to allow a vampire to drink from her throat without even waking her like the true fool she was.
She knew, even laughed when he complimented her the next morning, but never once complained, just told him he was welcome back whenever.
Originally, he thought she may be too trusting but he learned quickly how wrong that assumption was. She didn’t believe most of the people who tried to sway her to their side; straightened her back and glared when they tried to trick her and often even stood between them and her companions.
Which meant, somehow, he’d earned her trust.
Ridiculously stupid as it was for her to trust him, he didn’t want to lose the privilege and so he left her book alone until the next time she spent too long staring over its top.
“I do hope you’re writing something fun in those pages,” he said. “If you let me read them, I’m sure we can make them happen.”
She laughed at the suggestion. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just trying to draw you.”
He lowered his goblet a little in confusion, unsure how to respond to such a thing. “Draw me?”
“Well, you complained so much about not being able to see yourself in the mirror so I thought this would be the next best option. Come here and I’ll show you.”
She patted the spot on the ground beside her but Astarion didn’t move. Of all the things he’d expected from her, he hadn’t anticipated a recall of the strange conversation from before. Certainly not for her to have spent several days on such a thing.
“Come on,” she welcomed him. “I’m not horrible at art, I promise.”
He shook off the surprise and forced a laugh. “My apologies, I got distracted watching those adorable cheeks of yours flush. It’s absolutely delicious to see the way the sun burns your skin.”
“Oh, that wasn’t the sun,” she said. “If you’re talking about this.” She twisted a little so he could see a deeper red mark on her chest and where it curled over her shoulder. “You know the chest I kept fiddling with beneath the grove? Turns out it was trapped but don’t worry, Shadowheart promised it would fade with time.”
He honestly hadn’t been speaking of anything but he found himself annoyed at her for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint. “Well, I suppose that’s what you must deal with when you’re obsessed with looting everything we come across.”
“It’s profitable,” she teased. “Now do you want to see what I’m drawing or not?”
He took his time to saunter over and sink into a relaxed seat beside her. The sun had begun to set and its final rays danced over her skin as she shifted closer, leg brushing against his own as she turned the pages to him.
“It’s not perfect,” she warned. “You’re not an easy person to capture on the page but it’s something.”
True to her words, the book had been filled with sketches from the front to the back. Some crude and others detailed but every single one was of him. Close ups, full bodies, and even a few in action with daggers drawn. Had she truly drawn them from memory alone?
“I keep getting frustrated when they don’t come out right,” she said. She leaned back so she was lying against the grass, attention on the sky. “I’ve asked the others but they can’t tell what I’m doing wrong either. They’re just not right.”
He turned the pages slowly, not sure how he should respond to a gift like this.
Seeing his face showed truth to her words. He hadn’t changed awfully much in these years. The great care put into this though… she’d spent ages detailing his hair on others and even put dapples of sunlight over others from when they’d been travelling through the forest.
They didn’t have many hobbies to pass the time while travelling (not unless you counted Lae’zel who appeared to be collecting more and more heads as they continued on) but this must have taken so much of her waking hours.
The emotion that crept up his throat was unwelcome and difficult to recognise. It made his unbeating heart twist uncomfortably and he immediately snapped the book shut.
She nudged him to get his attention. “Well? What do you think? We can hire a professional when we reach a bigger city but it’s a temporary solution.”
He forced the smile and it felt wrong. “I doubt even a professional will capture me right. It’s as you said, difficult to capture perfection.”
She laughed. “I’ll try again tomorrow but with our plans, I think you’re going to be in a foul mood and I don’t want to draw you when you’re sulking.”
“Me? Sulk? I couldn’t possibly imagine why when you’re making me trudge through a swamp.”
She grinned and for a second, the briefest moment, he felt something tug on his chest when he looked at her. Fondness. His panic flared immediately and he turned his gaze away, uncomfortable suddenly with the attention she lavished upon him.
Curse her and her ridiculous book. Yet another strange aspect of her life – one that tempted him to flee in the middle of the night and never return to this group and their insistence on helping people.
But he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t give up the safety provided by them yet.
“I’ll be happy to take this off your hands darling,” he said to her, holding up the book. “Keep it safe and make sure it doesn’t disappear in the night.”
“You will not. It’s mine until I get at least one drawing of you right and then you can have it.”
He leaned over her, placing one hand on the ground beside her hip. “Wouldn’t you rather the real thing? We can make some references for more enticing artwork in the future.”
She stared at him, briefly frozen as he drifted a faint touch over her thigh. The flare of lust in her eyes made him comfortable again. This was something he understood. An emotion he recognised. She still wanted him; she must if she spent all this time trying to draw him.
She moved closer and her breath brushed over his cheeks, her eyes locked on his.
He waited, about to close the gap, when she suddenly kissed him on the nose, grabbed the book from his hand, and rolled away with a laugh.
Astarion was left blinking as she tucked the book into her pouch.
“I’ll let you have it when I’m done but that does sound like fun. Unfortunately, this evening though, I managed to talk Wyll into giving me some dance lessons so I’m booked. You should join if you feel up to it.”
He huffed and tried not to let the strange jealousy return as she ducked away towards the others.
Taglist: @rosenightwings , @tragicdruid , @bloopthebat , @venus-wrts
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