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#i found that love-lies-bleeding means
slytherinslut0 · 6 months
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THEODORE NOTT- Little Star
Theodore Nott is an absolute fucking daddy👅 (Those eyes like if you don’t let me syd rn I s2g)
Tags: fluff, fwb, heartbreak, lovestory, passionate kissing, first time saying i love you, angst
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“Theodore fucking Nott…”
His eyes darkened, transitioning to a shade of obsidian so intense they singlehandedly put the stormy midnight skies to ineffable shame; stoically crossing his arms over his chest as he mentally prepared to be torn to absolute fucking shambles after you’d found yet another reason to be mad at him.
“Are you out of your ever-loving mind?” You hissed, trying to hide the pain in your tone and replace it with some form of sarcasm. “Pansy Parkinson?”
Your throat was dry, anger flowing through your veins like fire as you paced the sparse length of his dorm room, the echoes of your shoes scuffing off the hardwood floor being the only sounds bouncing off the walls in the tension filled silence as you remained quiet for a moment, hands threading through your hair and scraping against your scalp as though you were trying to make it bleed.
“I can’t believe you almost canceled on me for Pansy Parkinson…”
Theo remained silent, letting out a slow breath from his lungs as he shifted his weight onto his other foot, leaning against the edge of his desk as he watched you pace, choosing to remain silent until you’d at least somewhat tired yourself of your anger towards him.
Theo knows you well enough by this point to know that when you’re like this, it’s absolutely pointless to try and intervene. He knows that if anything, all it would do is make matters worse.
“I’m tired, Theo…” you finally said, halting your pacing and shifting to face him. “I’m tried of this…the games, the fights, the pain…I’m tired of holding a candle for someone who doesn’t do the same for me…I’m tired of always feeling like I’m not good enough for you, like I need to always be looking over my shoulder, wondering what your next move is going to be…”
Theo’s near emotionless expression never faltered, his hardened demeanour staying set like stone as he stared at you; dark eyes piercing through your very soul as though he was seemingly seeing right past you. Part of you knew he was.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” You sighed, expressions softening. “I mean…I can’t be the only one that feels this way, Theo…aren’t you tired of this? Are you tired of me?”
“Oh, Bella Mia…I’m tired of this, certainly.” His voice was a deliciously slow drawl, sparking heat in your veins with every syllable. You immediately cursed yourself for near-instantly crumbling, merely at his use of Italian. “But tired of you, never.”
You felt your stomach twist, your chest constrict with emotion. You wanted to believe him, you wished those words were true; but you simply knew him too well at this point, knowing that this was an endless cycle of heartbreak, one that you were all-too-determined to finally bring to an end.
“Don’t bullshit me, Theo…”
you said, planting your feet firm in place, crossing your own arms over your chest now as you stared at him, silently admiring his features; the ones that have near-effortlessly made you fold so many fucking times before--his dark hair tousled and messy as it fell naturally over his forehead, the curly strands framing his sharp and intense eyes that have hardly even blinked once as he watched you--seemingly still emotionless.
“We’ve been here before…it’s never ending…you call me up when you’re bored, when you need someone, tell me pretty lies that keep me wrapped around your finger, only to ditch me until you need me again. I’m tired of being your little toy, Theo. I’m tired of being loved with the wrong intentions.”
Theo raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Stellina…you know you’re so much more than that…”
Your entire body tensed at the nickname he called you, the word fluttering from his lips like a breathless sin, drowning you in the holy water that was your desire for him as you remembered the night he’d given you that name. The first night you’d hooked up under the stars in the Astronomy tower. Little Star.
He wet his lips, pushing up from his desk as he took a few strides toward you. “If you were just my toy, why would I cuddle you to sleep every weekend? Help you study for exams? Ensure you’re eating and drinking enough?”
His words rushed you, slamming your chest like a fifty pound cement brick. Gods, how you wanted to fold. How you wanted to drop down to his feet and beg him to love you, beg him to see you for more than just a quick fuck, but you knew it would do absolutely nothing. It’d been almost two years of begging to be more, and for all your efforts, you’ve gotten no where except for the pits of Theo’s bed, only to be kicked out in the morning.
It was an endless, heart wrenching cycle that you knew you needed to put an end to, now.
“Please, Theo…stop…” you said, your voice a trembling plea in the air; and as if on command, he did.
You shook your head, collecting yourself, taking a few steps back to keep the distance between your bodies--watching Theo’s expressions as his hardened facade slowly cracked, his eyebrows pinching and his throat bobbing as he swallowed, dark eyes scanning your features; flicking from your eyes to your lips and back up to meet your eyes.
“You’ve given me something I can’t live without, something I don’t think I’ll ever find in anyone else…but I can’t keep playing this little game with you, I can’t keep going on like everything is fine when it’s not…I love having you in my life but it hurts too much…I want to live, not just survive...” you whispered, voice dropping with every single word. “You have no intentions of being with me, after all this time, and I can’t keep doing it…I can’t keep acting like it doesn’t affect me.”
Theo’s jaw tensed, so tight it looked like it hurt, and he swallowed again. “That’s-“
You cut him off. “The truth.”
Your words hung heavy in the air, blanketing over the room, thick and sticky like cobwebs in a cave--clogging the channels of communication between your bodies. Theo’s eye twitched, a nearly impenetrable movement, but one you knew you’d never, ever miss--you’d simply stared into those dark eyes way too many times to not notice even the subtlest of changes.
“But is it, though?” Theo said, voice low and cautious, not daring to move even an inch closer as he stared at you. “Is it really the truth, or are you just letting this little misunderstanding fuel your emotions...you know I’ve only been with you…”
Your body vibrated. Anger creeping in. “Don’t you dare patronize me right now.”
He lifted his hands in surrender, large palms facing you as he raised them up against his shoulders.
“I’m not.” He said, gently. “Just think on it, for a second, Bella…please…you’re the only one…”
Please. He’d just fucking said please. You weren’t sure if you’d even heard him correctly.
“Don’t try to change my mind, Theo…” you whispered, voice unsteady and fingers trembling at your sides as you watched his expressions falter even further, his original confidence now entirely dissipating from his face. “There’s so much space between us, we were doomed for failure before we even began…and it’s entirely your fucking fault.”
His eyes narrowed, his eye twitching with increased intensity. “How the fuck is it my fault that you got attached?”
The room seemingly paused at his words, even his own expressions hardened as his brain registered what he’d just fucking said; but you, you hardly even flinched. Admittedly, you were just happy you’d finally got a sliver of his true thoughts, and not just the sweet, charming words he knew you’d want to hear.
“Are you really going to fucking stand there and blame me?” You hissed, unable to control your emotions as the energy and tension between your bodies continued to build. “After everything you’ve done?”
His face fell into a scowl. “You knew how I was before we started this-“
“Yes, I did, but stupid me for hoping that maybe one day you’d fucking change…” your voice cracked, your heart slamming your sternum. “I can’t keep loving you in the dark and then acting like a stranger in the light. Maybe you don’t see it but you’re fucking destroying me...sometimes I wish I’d never fucking met you…”
Everything paused. His breathing, his movement, his blinking. Fury crawled its way into his dark irises, shading them the colour of crimson; his fingers curling in against his palms, the tendons in his hands tightening like a noose prepared specifically for your neck. As fear gripped you, you swallowed.
His eyes narrowed. “You fucking what?”
Your lungs stalled, oxygen missing you. “I-“
Your words were cut short as Theo advanced on you, backing you up against the wall, two strong hands slamming against the wood next to your head, your heart racing so hard in your chest you were certain it would crack your sternum and threaten the integrity of your ribcage as Theo brought his face so dangerously close to yours you had to turn your head slightly to stop your lips from touching.
His breath was fire against your flesh, his exhales leaving his mouth in a low growl, brows furrowed in frustration.
“Do you want to say that again?”
You flinched, his body so close to yours you could taste the anger radiating off of him. “I didn’t-“
“No, you didn’t.” He hissed, shoulders crowding as he pressed against you. “Look at me.”
When you hesitated, one large hand slipped from the wood beside your head and latched on to your jaw, pinching your cheeks together as he directed your eyes to meet his--his once stoic and emotionless gaze now set ablaze with fury, singlehandedly searing through your soul with one single glance.
“Do you love me?”
Your heart leapt into your throat at the question, your nails digging into the wall behind you as you melted into it, your body slowly surrendering to his intoxicating touch, his fingers gripping your jaw with just enough force to illicit a burning desire between your thighs. You didn’t really need to process your response, knowing that lying to him right now would serve you absolutely no purpose.
Your voice was a mere breath as it left your lips. “Yes.”
“You love me.” It was more of a statement, not necessarily a question, and your entire body shuddered, the intensity of his eyes melting you from the inside out. “You fucking love me.”
You couldn’t find merely a single breath of air. “I-I do-“
His eyes flicked over your lips. “And if I told you I love you?”
The room spun, everything fading to black around you. “Y-you don’t-“
“I do.” He hissed, tugging you closer. “I do and I have for way too fucking long and it’s made me a coward--it’s made me so fucking scared to lose you that I push you away, I-I pretend like I don’t need you but I do. I fucking need you, principessa…”
Earth turned beneath your feet, yet everything in the room remained still. As though time had frozen in place. “Theo-“
“I fucking love you.”
He murmured; nothing but raw, untethered passion behind his words; freezing every single red millimetre of your bloodstream and turning it into nothing more than a cold blue system of ice.
Your chest swelled, fighting every urge in your body that wanted to kiss him. You almost couldn’t fucking believe your ears. “Say it again…”
“I love you.” He retorted almost instantly, meeting your eyes. “I’ve loved you since I watched you goto the Yule Ball with Malfoy and kiss him under the mistletoe in that beautiful emerald dress. I’ve loved you since the first time we kissed, the first time we hooked up in Astronomy Tower--hell, I’ve loved you since the fucking first year when you stole my seat in Potions and then stuck your tongue out at me just to spite me. I’ve loved you for so fucking long that I don’t remember what it feels like not to love you; and it terrifies me. Loving you is the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”
You couldn’t find words, couldn’t find breath, could only mutter the one fucking word that you knew you’d never forget, the one word that would never leave your mind even if you had stormed out of this dorm and never looked back.
“Theo…”
His jaw tensed, his nose practically brushing against yours as he stared down into your eyes; gaze so intense it diminished all of the oxygen within your lungs. “But yet you wish you’d never met me, huh?”
You stammered. “No, I-“
“Look into my fucking eyes and tell me that you meant it. Tell me that I mean fucking nothing to you, that all of this has been nothing.” He tugged you closer by the hold on your jaw, your collective exhales mingling as one, your lips so close they were practically brushing. “Go on, fucking tell me.”
You yelped as he tightened his grip. “I-I can’t, Theo…”
He leaned closer, seemingly holding his breath, his soft lips grazing over yours once, twice, three times before he pressed the full plush entirety of his mouth to yours--his lips working to devour, to kiss you as though he’d never kiss you again. His tongue was rough, insistent, slipping past your teeth without effort as he worked to devour you, tightening his grip on your jaw as his free hand gripped your hip with enough force to inflict a bruise. You mewled against him, melting into the kiss, fighting to pull away and catch your breath but he was relentless, breathing you in like he could inhale you; map the entirety of your taste into memory.
When he finally broke the kiss, panting mouth falling to your jawline, you gasped; sucking in lungfuls of air.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Tesoro mio…I’m so sorry for ever making you feel like you aren’t enough for me. You are enough, fuck you’re too much; I don’t fucking deserve you.”
As he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you tight to his frame, you melted, feeling yourself become one with his strength, his warmth, his adoration.
“Theo…I-I don’t…”
He thrust a hand through your hair, pulling your head against his chest, his chin resting gently on the top of it. “I’m going to make it up to you…everything I’ve done, I’ll remedy it, I promise I will…Bella Mia…”
You exhaled, sinking against his firm hold. “I love you, Theo…”
“And I love you, Bella..”
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months
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The Bet
Part one
Eddie is desperate to talk to you but will you ever be able to forgive and forget after learning your friendship was nothing more than a bet? Especially as you had fallen in love with him.
Do you still love him after all that anguish?
Part two.
Warnings: A lot of angst and you'll see..minors shoo! 18+
Don't copy, translate or repost my work.
❤️
A bet. That's all you'd ever been to Eddie, a bet to get one over on your now ex boyfriend, on Jason and the rest of the dark side as Eddie's friend had put it.
Had they spent this whole time laughing at you? Did Eddie get some kick out of stringing you along, stealing your heart piece by piece.
Was everything just a lie?
You had broken up with Bryan a week ago. Sick of his horrible nature and drawn to Eddie, head over heels for him. God you felt like such a fool.
The night you found out about the bet you cried yourself to sleep, walking to school on autopilot. Thank goodness for your friends because you struggled to get through the first day.
Mostly everyone was sympathetic but there was some people who sniggered when you walked past, whispered to their friends only it was so loud that you could hear.
I can't believe how gullible that idiot was
Imagine knowing the freak only got close to you for a bet
Serves that bitch and all the rest of Jason's idiots and the cheerleaders right for thinking they are so hot.
About time someone took them down a peg
Each thinly veiled barb cracked your already bleeding heart and you hurried to get away from the gossip.
It trickled out a couple days later, once the people had finished finding your pain hilarious, how anyone could find someone in pain to be funny was a mystery to you.
Whenever you saw Eddie you rushed away before he could speak to you, wouldn't look at his face because all you knew from him was lies.
Everything was a lie. He didn't love you, he never did. Your heart throbs with that realisation and you do your best to walk around school, head held up high and the heartbreak tucked up inside.
It was all an act but you were a great actor, you had to be to pretend like you weren't in agony on the inside.
...
It was the worst few weeks that Eddie could remember in a long long time, Dustin was disgusted with him and took a long time to talk to him.
His heart felt like it had been ripped in half and it was all his own fault, you wouldn't even look at him.
If he even attempted to try and speak to you it was to no avail.
The longest sentence you uttered was when he begged you to talk to him, even just one word.
All you said was ''goodbye Eddie" or that ''you didn't believe a word he said"
Steve picked you up from school with Robin every day, wouldn't even let Eddie go near you. Threatened to beat the shit out of him if he made you cry again.
He tried to speak to you again a few days later when Steve had eased up on guarding you, it was agonising weeks of you avoiding him.
You were coming out of cheer practice with Chrissy and another girl, Chrissy glared at him and the other girl looked like she wanted to kill him.
"Can we talk please, princess?'' he pleads and you ask your friends to give you a second and they do, very reluctantly still scowling at Eddie. He deserves that.
"I can't Eddie. I don't have anything to say to you" he swallows, his mind going a mile a minute, trying to think of what he can say to express how sorry he is.
''I messed up. I made a stupid mistake. The worst mistake, because I hurt you. I made a dumb bet to try and get back at assholes who bullied and made my friends and my life hell, it was mean and selfish and I wish I'd never done it" you listen to what he has to say and his heart aches when tears pool in your eyes.
"But you did do it, you couldn't even tell me the truth. You lied to me Eddie and all the time I was...I fell in love with you" he moves forward to cup your cheek, desperate for you to know that he loves you too.
"I love you, I fell in love with you and that's why I couldn't tell you. I couldn't lose you" you stare at him and don't speak for a few seconds, when you do the words split his heart in two.
"That's the thing, you lost me anyway" you walk away from him and he can't think of a single thing to say to stop you. Then he steels himself and runs to catch up with you.
"What Eddie?" you snap and he talks quickly, tripping over his words and anxious to get the words out.
"I hurt you badly, I fucked up and what I did was just fucking awful. I know that. I also know that I'm so in love with you, never thought I could feel this way for anyone but you snuck into my heart and it belongs only to you" you don't say anything but you don't rush away either, so Eddie says one more thing before you do decide to leave.
"I'll wait for you sweetheart, for however long it takes. I don't care how long I have to wait, you're worth every single second"
Tears pool in your eyes and you nod slightly. Ever so gently you squeeze his hand just a tiny bit then walk away, leaving Eddie determined as hell to win your trust again and maybe somewhere along the line your heart too.
💕
It took a while for you to even speak to Eddie for longer than five minutes, but he was nothing if not determined and patient, he's was not screwing this chance up.
At first, you didn't think Eddie was serious about waiting for you, but he was. Endlessly patient and sweet. Big brown eyes full of tenderness and joy when you spoke to him.
It was hard not to find him endearing, but he had hurt you badly and there was still a small part of you that held back, that was hesitant to get close, trying to protect your fragile heart that ached for you to give Eddie a chance.
It's Friday now and after an intense week of cheer practice, you can't wait to relax for the weekend.
Chrissy had been watching you looking at Eddie with longing, the exact same way Eddie looked at you for weeks now. To be honest it was beyond frustrating, the both of you loved one another, it was killing you both to be apart.
So that's why she was saying something to you today. More than anything she wanted you to be happy, if Eddie hurt you again just even a tiny bit then she would kick his ass.
That's before Steve go there first.
"Honey, what Eddie did was wrong and I'm mad as hell at him but anyone can see how sorry he is. He's so in love with you, maybe you could give him a second chance" Chrissy says to you as you sit down for lunch.
You rest your head on Chrissy's shoulder and let out a sigh. ''I want to, I want to so badly but I don't want to be heartbroken again''
Something tells Chrissy that Eddie wouldn't dare. That he would keep his promise to never hurt you so badly again.
She squeezes your hand reassuringly and it calms your anxiety down.
"Babe, he wouldn't dare. He's not stupid. Plus everyone might think I'm a sweetheart but I'll kick his ass if he did and Steve would too. Eddie won't lose you, not again"
The words play on your mind all day and when Eddie is hurrying to his truck at the end of Hellfire Club you pluck up your courage and go to speak to him.
"Eddie" the minute he sees you it's like his whole face lights up. A dimpled smile and brown eyes full of adoration greet you.
"Hey, sweetheart" longing fills the air, stifling you both and honestly you're pretty sick of it. So you take a leap, walk up to Eddie and take his hand.
"Would you mind if I asked you for a ride Eds?'' his hand tightens around yours and he grins, rushes to open the door to his truck and almost trips over his feet in the process. It's cute and you can't help but giggle.
He holds the door open for you. "Princess, your carriage awaits" you head inside.
The drive is short and sweet, Eddie once again being a gentleman as he opens the door for you to step out.
You thank him for the ride and before Eddie can head back into the truck, you kiss his cheek gently, then leave a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips.
The kiss leaves him looking dazed, he touches his cheek then his lips and there's that smile again, the one that melted your heart the first time you seen it.
"One more chance Eddie, if you hurt me again thats it. I mean it" he nods, his face serious as he takes in what you say.
"I swear you won't regret this princess, I love you and I'll spend every day proving that, do you... do you still love me?" he whimpers after a few seconds, his expression wide with worry and fear.
"I've never stopped" you answer back.
After your confession he practically does a little dance as he goes into his truck. Just before you open the door to your house, you hear his whoop of delight before he drives off.
The smile doesn't leave your face all night.
❤️
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thatfreshi · 7 months
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Pitch Black (Astarion x Reader)
TW - panic attack, claustrophobia, themes of death/rotting
I based this off some sad lore I found out about him yesterday :(
Recommended Song: Rainy Day Loop - SALES
There's a lot of things Astarion hasn't told you. You don't mind, because a lot of those things are hard to relive. Everything he tells you comes with a price, but he does it mostly out of necessity. There are times you know something lies deeper, and yet you don't pry. It will come to light if he decides it needs to.
However, he never told you about one of the first truly cruel things Cazador did. How one day he refused him, told him no for once. He woke up buried six feet under, starving in undeath for an entire year until his master dug him up again. That was the last time he disobeyed.
This led to a fear he never told you about, claustrophobia, that terrifying feeling of being unable to escape small spaces. He doesn't like closets, this you knew, but you assumed it was because they're dark and sad, not because they're small rooms.
One morning you're sleeping, peaceful, arms wrapped around him tight. He wakes up before you, calm at first. When he realizes his discomfort at feeling trapped in your arms, he gently tries to move you off of him, but you grab back in your slumber, not knowing what's going on beyond the barrier of sleep. That first wave of panic sets in as you wrap yourself tighter than before, and he freezes up, remembering the smell of musty dirt and bones. He tries to scoot away, and you unknowingly pull him in again. That second time is enough for him to feel fully trapped, and without thinking he bites down hard on your arm.
"GODS!"
You bolt up out of your sleep, holding your arm, realizing it was Astarion who caused the sudden alarm. He sits at the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, still trying to ground himself. You try to ask him things, why the hell he'd do that to you, but he can't hear your questions. The worms, the beetles, at some point you become accustomed to the tiniest sounds. He wondered if they'd start to eat away at him, if vampires were like corpses, if he would slowly decompose in the ground. You go to touch his hand and he yanks it away, standing up.
"Astarion!"
And he finally turns to see you on the bed, your arm bleeding badly, how concerned you look. He can't speak though. Footsteps, people passing by, unable to scream because of how tightly packed the sediment is. You try anyways.
"Aster, listen to me. I need you to listen to me, okay?"
You're panicking. You haven't seen him this bad in a while. He's not there, at least not truly there. To be knocked out, only to wake up in pitch black, what a horror.
"I think you're having a panic attack my love, can you try to focus on one thing in the room?"
A painting, a landscape of a graveyard. He was put in a graveyard, some kind of cruel joke. His eyes wander to the frame, golden, like thread. He remembers stitching little phrases and stories into his clothes, he remembers the first time he did such a craft for you. The breathing starts to settle, still shaking, he sits back down next to you, and just starts sobbing. You go to hug him and he flinches.
"No!"
You are almost taken aback, but you remember that it's not your fault.
"Okay, that's okay. I'll just sit here with you."
He just cries for a while, and you let him. Clearly something startled him badly, badly enough that he bit you. You forgot until now that you were bleeding. Not only did his fangs pierce, but many of the rest of his teeth got through the skin. As you're analyzing your wound, you take part of the blanket and press it into your arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Astarion notices the movement, and you see guilt overcome his face immediately. You interrupt before he can speak.
"It's okay darling, I know you didn't mean it."
He wipes at his tears, finally coming back to reality, truly grounding himself.
"I... I'm sorry."
"I know, it's okay."
He stares at a crack in the floorboards.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He nods, mainly because he hates it when you're confused.
"So... a long time ago, Cazador decided it would be fun to bury me alive."
He almost laughs at how ridiculous it is, how someone could even think to do that. You just listen.
"And I stayed there for an entire year. And I don't know how it happened, but you tried to hug me tighter while you were asleep, and I- I just panicked, I felt so trapped and it just reminded me so much of-"
He can't even bring himself to say it again.
"I'm so sorry, I had no idea."
He scoffs.
"Yeah, you were asleep, and I freaked out like a monster and bit you."
He gazes down at the wound, wincing at what he's done.
"Hey, look at me. Wounds heal, I'll be okay. What matters is that you're okay."
"I... I think I'm okay now. Just, feel miserable."
"That's okay, you're allowed to feel however you want."
"I know. Thank you my sweet."
He picks your hand up off the bed, holding it to his face. It takes weeks after for him to be hugged again, especially being the little spoon, but you don't mind. You'll go through every phase of his, good and bad. This one just happens to be bad, and that's okay. He'll be okay. You'll both be okay.
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revehae · 1 month
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hurts so good (2)
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pairing ↠ mark x you x jeno
genre .. warnings ↠ unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating, cuckolding without the marriage, brief mention of nonconsented recording
summary ↠ jeno proves to be the perfect remedy to your bedroom problems with mark, but not without cost. the longer you lie to your perfect boyfriend, the more guilt builds like a plaque in your chest. but is it enough to make you set aside your pleasure?
wc ↠ 3.9k
a/n ↠ this the second and final part of a repost. part one here! happy readings lovelies!
don’t like it, don’t read.
“fuck,” you moaned.
“don’t talk.”
you bit your bleeding lip, trying hard to comply in spite of knowing your attempts would be in vain and you would ultimately earn yourself a smack. later you would have to explain to mark why you had a bruise on your bottom lip, and likely the rest of you, but you were of no mind to be worried about that right now. 
not when jeno was currently pounding you out against a wall.
you met his heavy stare. even his gaze made you feel small and dainty, like you could break if he just looked at you for too long. looking at you, jeno thought the same thing. you were such a pretty, fragile little thing, but you liked being broken just as much as he liked breaking you.
you wanted to loathe how good jeno made you feel in spite of hurting you all the while, but your body couldn’t lie and you were clenching around his thick cock, fighting back the most pathetic of whimpers. he was dangerously deep inside you, borderline fucking you into the wall as he tried to coax himself even deeper.
“jeno,” you cried out at a particular thrust, your back roughly hitting the wall. like he was of a mind to force you through it. 
your legs tightly coiled around his waist, drawing him into you like you were afraid of letting go, gave jeno the perfect opportunity to wrap his hands around your throat, hissing, “i said shut up. i’m not afraid of choking you unconscious if it means you’ll shut that big mouth.”
one of your arms dangled from his neck, and you used one to weakly try to pry his hands off your throat, though to no avail. jeno was stronger than you could ever dream to be. “i can’t… jeno, i…,” you choked out, struggling to speak and breathe.
jeno chuckled darkly, tightening his grip. “you can’t what, baby? say it. i fucking dare you.”
though you tried, it was difficult given that jeno had you pinned to the wall by your throat. you loved how effortlessly cruel he could get, firmening his hold because he knew damn well what you were trying to say.
he knew that you were struggling to breathe, and he didn’t care, cruel enough to choke you out even harder. you adored his cruelness because it was everything you wanted and everything you knew you could never have in the long run. he was your biggest, most tantalizing temptation. when you left his apartment that day, you told yourself over and over that it couldn’t happen again, but you knew when you looked jeno in the eye after he came inside you that this couldn’t be a one-time thing.
and so it happened again. a few more times.
you were beginning to lose count of how many times you had made the poor decision of getting into bed with him again (or, in this case, onto a wall), but you tried to fight off the urge and ultimately succumbed to your need for twisted pleasure. a kind you could only find in jeno.
it made you feel bad when you lied to mark, a gut-wrenching feeling that made you bristle with self-disgust. don’t lie to me. that’s the worst thing you can do, said his sweet voice, replaying on repeat like a mantra in your head. you could see the look on his face when he found out, the sting of betrayal. with his best friend, no less. but you were too far gone to stop now.
the most sickening part was that you had a terrible feeling that mark wouldn’t even want to break up with you, he wouldn’t fault you. he would beat himself over it and find fault in himself, which was even worse because he had done nothing wrong. 
so why were you letting jeno have what you swore to mark was only his - why did you keep running back?
you had tried to break things with jeno off, to restrain yourself and be a good girlfriend, but it never lasted for very long. it got to the point where whenever you told jeno that it had to be the last time, he would merely laugh in your face and scoff that you weren’t going anywhere.
he knew you too well. much like mark. it made you contemplate.
jeno let you breathe when you tapped his fist with your fingers and you sucked in a large breath like it was the last time you would ever inhale again. you never really knew with him.
“know a girl like you can’t keep quiet,” jeno said snidely. “feels too good, doesn’t it? you like being fucked like a whore too much to shut up.”
you tried to say no, to save what was left of your pride, but only a squeaky noise rose from the back of your throat. 
jeno asked teasingly, “do you get this noisy with mark too, or just me?”
you didn’t want to answer, face hot with shame because you knew the answer and it didn’t in any way make you look good. jeno, of course, already knew the answer. he had heard enough about you and mark’s sexcapades from both sides. he just wanted to hear it from your own mouth.
jeno grabbed your hair, not in any way gentle, and growled, “that was a question. don’t act all shy now.”
“no,” you whispered. 
jeno scrunched his brows as if he couldn’t hear you, pulling your hair even rougher. “what was that, baby?”
“no,” you cried out, partially from how forceful he was. “just you, jeno.”
jeno merely laughed and released his hold again. you swore it gave him some kind of ego boost to know he fucked you better than mark. you wondered if he cared, given that he was just as guilty as you for sleeping with his best friend’s girlfriend on more than one occasion, but he never seemed to give a damn. part of you envied his carefree nature, but another part of you wondered how he could be so shameless.
not that it mattered. you knew as well as he did that it wouldn’t stop you from crawling back.
“you’re the prettiest like this, you know,” jeno whispered, though not necessarily meaning it affectionately. “when you look like you’re falling apart, all these marks all over your body.”
you were so close to orgasm it was mind-numbing. and jeno was unintentionally going to be what brought you to the end, dangling over the edge.
“you’re close,” jeno stated, not even needing to ask. it was both awful and astonishing that he learned to recognize the signs. once upon a time, only mark knew your body that intimately. 
you nodded. then, begged, “can i please cum?”
“cum around my dick, princess. just moan my name when you do,” was all he had to say in retort.
and a couple of moments later, you were doing as told, arms looped around his neck as you clang to him and your legs tightening just below his ribs. you sang jeno’s name, and the cry was so sweet it brought about his own climax, an even sweeter sound leaving you when you felt his load inside you.
then, jeno carried you over to his bed in his brawny arms and threw you on top of his mattress to fuck those sounds out of you again. and likely all of your sense.
“we really need to stop,” you told jeno after a couple of rounds.
jeno groaned, half-tempted to duck tape your lips. “you keep saying that. then, you hit my phone when you need a fuck and you’re on my dick again. make up your damn mind.”
“but i like it too much,” you whined. 
“i could have told you that.”
you gave him a look.
“listen, it’s not my fault you keep spreading your legs for me. what the fuck do you want me to do when you’re the one begging me to fuck the shit out of you? tell you no?”
yes, because someone needs to control me. i can’t do it myself, you mused, having no rein on yourself whatsoever. your urges had a mind of their own. you couldn’t be the one to make yourself stop, and if he didn’t, then nobody would.
“don’t you feel the least bit guilty?” you asked, sorrow in your eyes. post-nut clarity was a bitch.
jeno shrugged. no, was the simple answer, but he didn’t feel like explaining himself right now. “is guilt stopping you from lying in my bed right now?”
“this isn’t about me,” you groaned. 
jeno laughed at that. “please. this is all about you,” he said. “i’m the middleman here. i’ve only been doing what you wanted.”
“you should stop doing that.”
“then, leave,” jeno said nonchalantly, picking up his phone as he pretended not to care. “you act like i’m making you stay here. you have free will. but i bet you’ll be back in no time at all.”
and you were.
it was maddening that he was always right. what the hell were you thinking? you couldn’t give something as good him up for another girl to fuck, because you knew you could be replaced in no time. you couldn’t even convince yourself that you didn’t want him. 
god, you had only been fucking him for a week and you were already addicted.
one night, you crawled into bed with mark after a hot shower, washing away jeno’s scent. you were facing mark, just staring at each other with complete awe, but a tear fell from your eyes.
mark immediately fretted, kissing your cheek chastely like he knew to and asked, “why are you crying?”
you shook your head. you couldn’t tell him. it would break you. “no reason,” you lied, whispering. “i love you.”
“i love you too,” mark said without a second of hesitation. he knew in his soul that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. “i love you more than anything.”
don’t make this harder on me, you whispered to yourself, falling apart as you let your hand touch his pretty face. mark smiled at your touch, and you gave him a smile back. on nights like this, you could pretend everything was alright.
on the other end, mark didn’t know how to feel. you really thought he was a fool. and maybe he was. maybe he was foolishly in love with you, and that was why he pretended to not know. it was almost better that way. 
he was still thinking about last friday. 
how’d it go?
how do you think? 
she’s glowing. what did you do? 
it’s not that hard, mark. all you gotta do is slap her around a little. 
i’ll keep that in mind.
still on for friday?
you bet. 
wanna see? 
mark furrowed his brows. what is there to see?
[jeno sent one attachment] when you jack off to that later, don’t let her see. 
mark’s jaw slacked when he realized what the video was. you recorded it? what the fuck, dude? 
you’re welcome. 
you never noticed the far from perfectly hidden red flashing light, especially not bent over, too absorbed in how perfect jeno had been making you feel. mark had been reluctant to open it at first, but ultimately caved in to temptation, and he had gotten off to it countless times since then.
it made no sense how beautiful you looked being fucked into oblivion by a man that wasn’t him. 
on friday when mark left to run errands, you were back at jeno’s door. he gave you a scan. he could feel your anxiety from a mile away. 
“don’t say a goddamn word,” you hissed, walking past him and into his house. 
jeno closed the door behind you, chuckling in amusement. and as if he didn’t hear you, said, “i gotta give you some credit. it’s been like, what, five days? you lasted a lot longer than i thought you would.”
you narrowed your eyes at him and snarled, “didn’t i just say…”
jeno cut you off with a kiss, backing you into a wall. it was intense and greedy, and you could barely keep up, letting him take the lead while his hands roamed all over your body. the more you moaned into jeno’s mouth, the rougher he kissed you. if you didn’t know any better, you would say he had been impatient himself. 
you were both shirtless by the time he had pulled away from you, and your bra was thrown across his sofa in the heat of the kiss. you could see the arousal in his eyes, feel it in his touch, and it was driving you mad. 
“i’m tired of listening to you,” jeno growled into your ear, breath against your neck. “you’re gonna do what i want.”
all you could do was nod. jeno crashed his lips against yours again and kissed you the whole way to his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake.
you were so engrossed in the way his lips felt on yours that you didn’t even notice the other man in the room.
“breathe,” jeno told you when he pulled back, chuckling. 
you giggled, trying to catch your breath, but when you caught a glance of the bed through the corner of your eye, you nearly leapt out of your skin, shrieking, “mark?”
mark was silently sitting on jeno’s bed, eyes fixed to you. the look on his face was so unreadable that you couldn’t tell what kind of thoughts were running through his mind and you were borderline afraid to. your heart was racing quicker than you thought healthy. you glanced at jeno, baffled, but he merely gazed back at you with a smirk.
you stiffened. “mark, i... i thought you were… what are you…”
“i overestimated you. i thought you were smarter than this,” jeno teased, shaking his head.
you were frozen in your skin, scared to speak. 
“well, i technically was running an errand because i was talking to jeno about something, but you got here earlier than expected,” mark mumbled. 
jeno chipped in, “in other words, you’re so needy you did all the heavy lifting for us.”
“i… don’t understand?”
jeno threw his head back. “how much more do i have to dumb it down for you? mark knew about us this whole time. he set you up.”
you paralyzed with cold realization. it was all beginning to add up now. jeno’s nonchalance and detachment in contrast to your nerves. he’ll be glad it’s just me instead of somebody else, jeno had once told you. to which you replied, you say that like mark himself told you that.
because he did. 
you covered your tits, throwing mark a fretful glance. 
mark knew you better than anyone and spoke up before you could, “i’m not mad.”
“why?” you asked. he should have been furious. he should have ended things with you then and there, if not a long time ago. 
mark met your eyes tenderly and whispered, “because i just want you to be happy.”
this fucking loser, jeno scoffed to himself. “because he gets off to knowing somebody else is getting you off,” jeno added. “you know he asks me every detail of every fuck we have? he’s just as freaky as you.”
mark flustered. and so did you. maybe you were a match made in heaven.
“you both annoy the shit out of me,” jeno said, deadpan. then, he leaned into you and asked quietly, “wanna give your boyfriend a show?”
it was jeno touching you, but your eyes were fixed to mark. at those words, you noticed the slightest bit of excitement become visible in your boyfriend. what he couldn’t conceal, you saw glimmer in his eyes. so, without breaking eye contact with mark, you nodded.
“good girl,” jeno praised, before switching on a dime and growling, “bed.”
you knew what that meant. with no hesitation at all, you climbed into bed and mark gawked in astonishment at how quickly you presented yourself in a perfect arch at jeno’s command. he had you completely trained to bend to his will as if you were some sort of pet.
jeno was right behind you, grinning with unadulterated pride. he knew you belonged to mark, but you were also his now in some sick, twisted way. and he wasn’t about to give you back up. “good. you’re already watching each other,” jeno commented, amused. “don’t take your eyes off of him.”
“or else what?” 
jeno grabbed you by the throat, but it wasn’t harsh at all, much more like a warning. “fuck around and find out,” he replied darkly.
that sent a shiver down your spine. 
mark watched jeno position himself behind you, silent as could be. jeno slipped your panties to the side, not bothering to prepare you in spite of his size. he couldn’t imagine it. to mark, you were like some deity than deserved absolute worship. you moaned when jeno pushed inside you, tempted to tip your head, but fought it for now.
mark could feel his heart racing and arousal gripping him by the throat. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something about this that made him mad with lust.
your lips parted, tears making your eyes burn. you could still feel the lingering bruises jeno had left on your body that you desperately tried to hide from mark, because not only were they proof of your trysts, but mark would probably kill anybody that hurt you. except for jeno, apparently.
“she’s so tight, mark,” jeno groaned like you weren’t even there. “it’s like she gets tighter every time she runs back to me. do you ever fuck her?”
“it’s been a while,” mark said, sucking in a breath. he was getting hard. 
“clearly,” jeno mumbled. 
you whimpered, nails digging into the sheets to anchor yourself when jeno picked up his pace. which wasn’t after long. he was fucking you into the mattress before you even knew it yourself, making it all too difficult to hold eye contact with mark, and you broke it, glancing downwards. it was an impossible challenge from the start, that all three of you knew.
“jeno,” you whined, trying to pry his fingers from your hips.
jeno glanced down at you, seeing what you were doing, and asked, “where does it hurt? here?”
you bobbed your head. 
instead of making an effort to be more careful, jeno pressed his fingers down on the bruise, chuckling to himself when you cried out in a mixture of pain and shock. “eyes up, princess,” he whispered icily.
you brought your eyes back to your boyfriend’s, silently observing each other with a kind of telepathic communication. you had mastered that art in the past couple of years. there was no need for words. 
it was lewd and taboo. never had you done anything that felt as wrong as this; letting your boyfriend’s best friend fuck you right in front of his face, watching each other the whole time. but he made no move to stop either of you, merely standing there like a complete fool.
ironically, you were starting to understand each other better that way.
you looked pathetic as ever right now, tears rolling down your eyes in a stream. you made the wise choice not to wear makeup today, but jeno wished you would have. he always loved the look of streaks of black mascara running down your cheeks. it made you look even more ruined. but you never got like this for mark; most of the time, it was you ruining him. you liked making mark fall apart without doing much at all.
though to be far, you had never seen this side of mark either. had you known he liked it that much, that would have made everything a hell of a lot easier.
maybe this new situation could mutually benefit the three of you. you loved the grunts jeno made when he was pressed deep inside you, dragging his cock against your velvet walls. you liked when he put his hands on you and you could feel the sting for days. and you knew jeno loved fucking you, almost as if he couldn’t get enough of your body. 
“harder,” you cried. 
jeno cocked a brow. “you want it harder? you look like you’re about to break, princess.”
all you had to say to that was a hoarse, “break me.”
that jeno had every intention of, with or without your blessing.
mark was painfully hard at this point and made a move to take his clothes off, but jeno interrupted, “don’t touch yourself.”
mark shot him a look, flabbergasted and unsure if he should have listened or not. 
jeno beckoned him to approach the two of you. it was as if he had taken control of your relationship now. he flipped you onto your back, resulting in you emitting a loud sound of surprise. “hit her, mark,” jeno commanded, watching your face tense. “do it.”
mark stammered, “i… i can’t.”
“oh, for fuck’s sake. must i do everything for you?” jeno groaned, irritated. “it’s easy. i’ll show you.”
the pleasure of knowing he was about to hit you fused with the pain of his palm on your cheek and blended into something inexplicably erotic.
“see, the freaky little bitch likes it,” jeno commented, pointing out the dazed look on your face. “your turn.”
mark hesitated. he never wanted to hurt you, that was why he had gotten jeno to do the job. well, part of the reason. inwardly uttering a couple of motivational words to himself, mark gave you a weak smack to your cheek.
“lame,” jeno deadpanned. “but progress is progress.”
“harder, mark,” you whimpered, smiling up at him. “please? for me?”
mark could never tell you no when you looked at him like that, begging him with that sweet voice. so he gave in, hitting you again, even harder. you made a noise, face turning to the other side, which worried mark before he ultimately realized it was a sound of pleasure.
jeno laughed, on the verge of applause. “would you look at that.”
“did you like it?” mark asked bashfully. curse his need for validation. 
“mm-hm,” you hummed, sighing out in content.
mark smiled a tiny bit and his eyes fell down the rest of your body, spotting bruise after bruise. he had to give you credit; you had done an amazing job at concealing them, though the lack of sex definitely helped. now that you were naked, they were everywhere. apparently, jeno only put them in areas where they wouldn’t be immediately visible. he started to kiss them, one after the other, and much to your surprise, his tenderness somehow brought you even closer to finish. 
“i’m so close,” you told no one in particular, merely putting it out there. 
“come on, baby. show mark what it’s really like when you cum,” jeno said, grabbing a handful of your hair. “gonna let me fill you up with your boyfriend right there?”
you could do nothing but nod. you were chasing relief, chasing satiation. 
then, the thread snapped, and you came hard as ever. jeno was whispering mean words in your ear and all the while, mark was showing your body in affections, the contrast strong enough to give you whiplash. you moaned when you felt jeno finally cum inside you, and he pulled out to watch it drip from your stuffed cunt.
jeno glanced to mark and asked tauntingly, “need another tutorial or do you got it this time?”
you tried to catch your breath. maybe you could get used to this.
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ashessonfire · 1 year
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Part two of 'Intruder' <3
'Intruder' Kaz Brekker x Reader (part 2)
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Prompt - A few months had passed since you stumbled into the crow club, leaving the crows curious as to who they were. How will the crows react to the most vulnerable secret of Kaz Brekker finally being revealed?
- Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Civilian!Reader (Gender neutral) - Warnings: none? again just Kaz being soft, some mentions of the break in but literally PURE FLUFF
A/N: Once again i am incredibly grateful for all the love and support, and hopefully i have done justice with this part two! it can be read as a stand alone, some of the context will be confusing, but hopefully still just as cute! if you haven't read the first part, you can find it here!!
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A couple of months had passed since your less than ideal first meeting with the crows. Since that frantic day, your locks had been switched to the latest designs, being inspected thoroughly by your lover until even he, the master of his trade, struggled to crack them.
Although you were still paranoid beyond belief each time you turned the key to your home, the knowledge that Kaz had thoroughly ensured your protection settled the nerves fluttering in your chest. Frequent visits from your husband weren’t unusual, often slipping away from his desk during the earliest hours to bask in your company, allowing you to bathe him with love and affection, something he had slowly accepted and found he thoroughly enjoyed, only on one condition.
It had to be from you.
But since that night, he came over more frequently, stopping off after heists with gifts he had ‘bought’, or dropping in to work on blueprints, stating that there was too much paper cluttering the desk in his usual space, making you smile at his blatant lies just to be closer to you.
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Kaz vigorously battled with his mind on the night you visited the crow club, having to repress his heart's wishes to stay with you, for your safety, and his peace of mind.
However, he dragged himself back, leg stiffening in the frigid air, sending sharp bolts of pain through to his bone. Yet that wasn’t what plagued the man as he limped back to the slat. What haunted him most was the idea that he would have to confront his crows about his one true weakness.
Evidently being you.
Kaz demanded each crow's presence, ordering them to his office as soon as the sun began to slowly bleed its light into the impenetrable darkness of Ketterdam. Once they were situated in the cramped room, he hardened his gaze and lowered his voice, morphing it into a deadly tone.
“I am aware that last night may have surprised you, however you are not to speak a word of it to anyone. Not to dregs, customers, or civilians. Do I make myself clear?” Kaz bit out, leading Jesper to swallow thickly, Nina to shift her gaze to the condensation on the windowpane, and Inej and Wylan to both find wonderfully interesting specks of dirt on the panels of the floor.
The crows remained true to their word, still in awe at the mysterious figure who seemed to have tamed the Bastard of the Barrel, but far more scared of the consequences that may come with disobeying their boss’s order. However, Kaz had made a grave mistake with his command, demanding your existence to remain unbeknownst to the dregs, but never specifying that they were forbidden from discussing you with each other.
You became somewhat of a legend amongst the crows, appearing frequently in gossip which they housed in their cramped rooms at the slat, waiting for the clicking sound of a cane and heavy footsteps to disappear into their owner’s office to begin discussion.
“How long do you reckon they've been together for? I mean, I have never seen Kaz holding anyone’s hand before,” Nina mumbled through a mouthful of pastry, whilst wearing a highly quizzical look.
Jesper smirked at the group, “How did Kaz even manage to find someone like that, furthermore, how did Kaz keep it a secret for so long?” the sharpshooter questioned, one eyebrow raised far above the other. “They seemed so lovely, its surprising Kaz would let someone like that so close to him,” Inej chimed in, sharing a similar curiosity towards you.
As the weeks rolled on, the crows began dropping subtle hints to their leader of their interest in meeting you formally, evidently following the rules of the warning he dealt on the night of the intrusion. Curiosity was consuming the group, and even Kaz couldn’t deny his intensifying wish to display his proudest achievement to his closest friends, his relationship with you.
Unbeknownst to the crows, you too had been troubling Kaz about meeting his friends, desperate to erase your first impression on them and truly show yourself, not the terrified stranger begging for comfort.
After several nights of thorough bargaining with your husband, he reluctantly agreed to introduce his group to you, on the condition that you would be far from the Barrel’s hotspots, somewhere unreachable by rival gang’s watchful eyes. Squeezing Kaz’s hands tight, and giving him an appreciative kiss, you bound off to prepare for tomorrows event, leaving a softly smiling husband in your wake.
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Kaz couldn’t decipher his emotions as they rushed through him at an alarming pace, feeling anxious, excited, and fearful all at once. The pair of you had settled for your favourite café, a small establishment on the outskirts of the city, residing on a flower ridden street, colourful lanterns hanging like falling stars from ropes above the houses. The sight was a direct juxtaposition of the intensity found in your husband’s usual Barrel life, but a contrast which never failed to warm Kaz’s heart whenever he stepped foot there with you.
Dressed in your finest, you waited anxiously at the largest table the cramped café had to offer, adorned with scented candles, besides an array of flowers you had picked early that morning, dew still dripping from a few of the glistening forget-me-nots. You sat beside Kaz, gripping tightly to his gloved hand, the other fidgeting with the edge of his coat as a distraction.
Kaz instantly picked up on your nervous state, squeezing your hand in reassurance and brushing a whisp of fallen hair out of your gently lit eyes, staring long enough to just catch the flicker of the candles within your irises. “They’re only my crew, darling. If they do anything wrong I will…” Kaz began, but he was cut short by your breathy laugh. Apparently, the wrath of your husband against those who threatened you extended even to his closest and most trustworthy companions.
The door swung open, revealing a well dressed set of crows, their eyes steering directly to the couple before they briskly made their way over to you. A sudden fear rose within you, but you refused to display the same expression you had at the crow club, willing to give your best performance until the feeling subsided. You shot each one a welcoming smile, exchanging pleasantries as they made themselves comfortable.
The fear shattered within you as you took each of the crow’s expressions in, which all seemed to strangely resemble awe? Excitement? Your initial confusion was brought to a standstill as Kaz turned to them, stating clearly, “Everyone, this is Y/N, my wife,” offering a tight-lipped smile to his friends.
Nina suddenly spat out her drink, eyes bulging as Jesper made a choking sound somewhere in the back of his throat. Inej and Wylan sat looking dumbfounded, the boy’s jaw hanging slightly open.
“Uhmm. Excuse me, let’s take a few steps back, shall we? Wife?!” Jesper exclaimed, completely in astonishment. Kaz took a deep breath in before tightening his hold on your hand, clearly apprehensive to reveal his most vulnerable softness to his friends, who had rarely seen more than a smirk from their stoic boss. As the crows gathered their thoughts and tried to configure logical reasoning as to what had been revealed, the elderly owner of the café hobbled over, giving Kaz a toothy grin.
“It’s been a while Mr Brekker! I was wondering when we would be graced with your presence again, I have already prepared your regular, peach pie with…” The woman began but was cut off sharply by a “Thank you,” from Kaz, as he turned his head to hide his embarrassment. Nina let out a snort as the other three simultaneously burst into giggles, causing you to fall victim to the contagiousness of the laughter.
By this point Kaz was beyond mortified, being called out as a ‘regular’ at a joyful family-run café at the edge of the Barrel, as well as having his guilty pleasure exposed to his crew who he was positive would never let this go.
Despite this humiliation, Kaz felt a drop of warmth seep into his chest at the sight of you conversing with his friends, immediately connecting with each one of them. He felt something moving inside of him, deciding it was probably you, chipping away at his apparently impenetrable walls.
As the late afternoon clouds faded into the evening haze, the group departed with delighted goodbyes and warm hugs, establishing the beginning of many trips to visit Kaz’s (now) not-so-secret wife. You left them armed with new candles for the slat, baked goods, and most impressively, trinkets from the market which you had bought personally for each crow, going solely off your husband's descriptions of each individual.
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A glowing warmth radiated from the couple as you both walked, fingers entwined, back to your home, taking in the constellations which lit up the tranquil streets you winded through. Kaz decided to reward himself with a rare but well-earnt night in, with the single intent of being doused in your affection.
Kaz smiled lovingly down at you, as you peacefully slept wrapped in his shirt and coat, wiped out by the intense emotions that poured through you that day.
Crouching down slowly, your husband fiddled with a stray piece of your hair, admiring how the serene glow from the fire softened your features, catching in your figure perfectly, framing your face in a halo of light.
He settled down next to you, exhausted but proud. Proud of how far you two had come, which flooded him with a sense of relief. Because as it turns out, his crows could undoubtedly see the same beauty he was blinded by within you.
And it was clear in this moment, both to him and his crew, that Kaz Brekker was more than just in love with you. His entire existence was plagued with sentiment for you, and for once Kaz couldn’t seem to view it as a weakness, rather a sign that something deep inside him was healing.
“I love you, darling of my heart,” Kaz whispered as he kissed you goodnight.
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tag list: @chaoticbeanz @kryptonitewizard @alanis-altair @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy <33
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fishermanshook · 2 months
Text
ASK: Please do yan!joseph x reader smut .. and itd be good if he likes to degrade u as well because hes an aristocrat and his ego is too high lol and his pride can't accept the fact he's in love with a normal person so he tries not to show his love.. feel free to decline this req btw love u take care
LOVE TASTE! (yan!photographer x gn!reader)
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# MINOR WRITING SMUT ⚠️ , reader is a consenting individual , I do NOT do this man justice sorry annon , grammar and spelling warning
INTRO
Joseph Desaulniers is an aristocratic man who believes he only deserves the best of the best. An arrogant fool who takes pity on lower-class civilians. But you only find hypocrisy laced in his voice, as he finds himself falling for you out of all people.
Maybe “falling” isn’t the right word here. No, he is drowning in your being completely. You don’t understand the lengths he’s taken (and will take) to ensure you stay by him.
You shouldn’t have gotten close to the man, shouldn’t have let your heart get tangled in his web of lies. Now, he won’t let you go. Not when he’s fucking you in his lap, whispering degrading words as he slams your hips down on his cock. Let’s recap, shall we?
꒰wc ꒱ 783
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You're not sure where this "crush" came from, just that it was the undeniable cause of your flustered state when you met him eye to eye. Whether it be in an intense race to the dungeon or the manor's very own Greenhouse, you've found yourself in the Photographer ever elusive presence. 
He's so kind to you, so gentle that you can forget he's a Hunter altogether. Although, Joseph is starting to become a popular topic for conversation, and not for good reasons. Survivors always knew he was a skilled fencer, but his blade has become sharper. He's harsher with his strokes than before. There is no pity left in his cruel jabs as all sympathy has been ringed out. It seems that you're the only one sparred from this issue. To you though, his blade misses more often than not and seems duller around the edges.
It seems that this was only the start of the Survivor's problems, as more started presenting themselves during matches. Win streaks are broken and more losses take their place in exchange. The Hunters on the other hand rejoice in the continuous win the Photographer brings to the table. Not that he cares though, as all of these were for you. 
The Photographer's reasoning for his newfound win steak has been because of you. Joseph doesn't deem any of those peasants competition as he knows he's better than them. Still, his blood boils with jealousy whenever he notices you chatting with one of them. He hopes that by losing any compassion for the Survivors (and their dreadful situation), he can isolate you from anyone he deems as "unfit" for your attention.
This man will do a lot of things to keep his darling away from the others. Resorting to threats passed underneath the dinner table. The sick little bastard gets off on how their eyes widen with surprise and fear. Some try to fight back, but Joseph is smarter than that. 
LOVEBOMBS YOU. (I can see him doing this sorry ya'll)
Threats and violence in the manor only get him so far, and the Photographer starts telling you sick and twisted lies in hopes of isolating you from your peers. They're all so mean to you, he hears them snicker behind the curtains and poke at your name and title. He makes sure to show them a lesson by bleeding them out during the match, which isn't a lie. In turn, his lies become your truth. If the other Survivors weren't distancing themselves from you before, you made sure of it now. 
Joseph confesses to you soon enough, now that you solely rely on him. Why not just become a Hunter at this point? He'd think you'd look lovely with a sword in your hands, you being dead or alive isn't the point. Finally, you're his and his alone. He won't let anyone take or hurt you ever again. 
Which brings you to where you are now. It started innocent, really, but now is not the time for that. These walls can only hold so much noise. Joseph’s hand helps a bit, but the way he meets your hips with his thrusts sends shocks throughout your body. 
“Stay quiet brat, your melodies are for my ears and my ears only,” Joseph whispers in your ear, he’s come so far to have you. No one else should be allowed to hear your beautiful moans. (Or how his name falls from your mouth so perfectly.) 
You're so tight around him that Joseph doesn’t know how much longer Joseph will last. You end up coming before him, coating his dick in your essence as he continues to slam into you. The Photographer soon follows suit, letting his cum fill you to the brim. 
“Such a slut for my cock, so don’t think I’ll be letting you leave this room until I’m finished." He says with a quick kiss on your cheeks before sliding back in. 
note: hi so I can’t write degrading shit to save my life so I’m sorry 😭 also this was my first Hunter fic along side with my first smut fic in a while so please bare with me…
also annon I saw your other ask and honestly don’t worry about it, if you’d never sent in that ask I don’t know if I would ever end writing for Hunters so thank you for your contribution 😊
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(2024)©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform
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rogueddie · 1 year
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Steve wasn't born, he was made. The perfect son, wished into existence by his parents. They gave him so much, trying to get him just right. He was made to be perfect after all. They had to make sure they avoided any flaws.
But they didn't understand that their wishes for him were constantly contradicting. They didn't understand that the Gods aren't kind.
They wanted a son who is smart, but obedient. They wanted a son who can take care of himself, but won't ask questions. They wanted a son who puts them first, but is ambitious. They wanted a son who is good, but will lie for them.
So the Gods carved him out of marble. They filled him with light and love. They made him perceptive and gave him one last warning; humans aren't always nice and they will hurt you.
Steve quickly learnt that they were right. He learnt that questions are met with pain, that anything but perfection is met with punishment. He learnt that his love is met with abandonment.
He learnt the hard way. He learnt slowly.
When enough time had finally passed that they could send him out into the world, Steve floundered. He'd been locked away in the cold Harrington house for so long, with nothing but the cruelty of his parents, that he didn't understand how to... be. And the kids in high school were just as cruel.
He wanted to fit in. He wanted to be loved. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted to be the one in control for once.
So, when Tommy Hagan invited him into his little circle? Steve jumped at the chance. He clung to the boy like a lifeline, not bothering to question him. He kept Steve afloat, made him popular and loved. He gave Steve what he needed.
But then he met Nancy. Then he got in a 'fight' with Byers. Then he met his first monster.
And it was easy. Hold a hand to his cheek until he can find make up, wince like the punches hurt and keep his head down. No one looked too close. No one noticed that he wasn't really bruised. Not even Byers, who nearly broke his hand on Steves face.
The second time was easier. The third time too. He hated how easy it was, how good he is at lying. He hates how naturally it comes to him, even if it does help him. It just reminds him; he was made for this.
But then, finally, he meets someone who doesn't believe him. He meets someone who sees through the bullshit. He meets someone curious enough to look at him.
Eddie Munson is fascinated by Steve. He always has been but after the Vecna mess, it becomes something of an obsession.
Steve encourages it.
He knows he shouldn't. He knows that it wouldn't be good if people found him out... but he wanted Eddie to know. He wanted Eddie to see him. He wanted to tell the truth. He wanted to be a good person.
"You're a liar," Eddie finally says, pointing at Steve. He's relaxed, lounging on the Byers couch. He smirks when he notices everyone giving him dirty looks. "What? None of you are curious?"
"About what?" Robin asks. She glances between the two of them, curiosity peaked. "What's he lying about?"
"I don't know. Everything?" Eddie shrugs. His eyes are locked on Steve. "He doesn't bleed."
Most people laugh, turning away, dismissing the conversation. Eddie jokes around, is dramatic so often, that it's easy to see this as another play at circus leader.
"No, that..." Jonathan frowns. "What do you mean?"
"That bottle. Didn't leave a scratch."
"You didn't really try to hurt me," Steve lies. But he remembers how the sharp edge had felt against his skin, remembers the shiver of fear he'd felt when he realized that anyone else would be bleeding.
Eddies eyes narrow.
Everyone knows that Eddie is soft hearted now. Everyone knows how unwilling he is to hurt anyone. No one doubts Steve. Even Robin, Dustin and Max, who had seen how terrified he had been that night.
Steve keeps glancing at Eddie the rest of the night. He's not surprised to find him already looking. He is surprised that he doesn't try again. He's not usually deterred so easily.
He isn't, as it turns out. He uses the two beers Steve has as an excuse to drive him home. No one lets Steve try to wriggle out of it, insisting that Eddie is right, it's better to stay safe. Joyce promises to drive his car back in the morning.
Eddie gives him a smug grin when he holds the door open, so he can follow Steve inside. They hover in the living room for a moment.
"Why doesn't anyone know?" Eddie finally asks. "Why don't you tell them?"
Steve debates lying again. He knows Eddie won't believe him though, there's no point. So he shrugs. "I don't know."
"But there is something? I'm not just... losing my mind, right?"
"Yeah, um... it's just- it's hard to believe."
"We've been to an alternate dimension where bat things were going to eat you. We're past that shit."
Steve raises an eyebrow, lets the pause drag out for a moment. "Alright. I'm not human. I wasn't born. I'm marble."
Eddie blinks at him. "Marble."
Steve tugs his top up so his stomach is showing, pointing at his sides. "The bats did try to eat me."
"Jesus Christ," Eddie whispers. He reaches out like he can't help himself, fingers tracing the cracks in his skin. "Jesus- you're marble."
"Yeah. Wild, right?"
"Wild," Eddie echoes, his laugh high pitched and a little hysterical. "How the fuck... what made you?"
"I don't know. My parents always said that it was the work of the Gods, that they'd wished for perfection and got me instead. I kinda... remember, a little. It's weird."
Eddie shifts closer, hands shifting from the cracks to hold his side. "You remember being made?"
"Only a little. Like, uh... they had a little trouble getting my hands right. It's mostly a blur."
"Did it hurt?"
"No? If it did, I don't remember." Steve shifts, struggling to read Eddie with how blank his expression is. "You, uh... I mean... this isn't too weird, is it?"
"Oh, it definitely is," but Eddie grins. He looks excited. "This is so much weirder than the Upside Down stuff. Miles more. Fuck. Can I touch you? More than this, I mean. Is that making it more weird?"
"N-no, um, that's fine."
He's gentle with his exploration, careful and specific with where he touches. He touches his hands, his fingers, feeling the grooves and details. His worn down fingertips, the details slowly smoothing out. He touches his arms, testing the give and the cold, solid stone of his elbows.
He hesitates before touching his chest, lingering on his chest hair. His eyes widen a little when he realizes that, those too, are marble.
Then, he raises his hand to Steves face. He cups Steves cheek, thumb rubbing his cheekbone almost reverently. He looks fascinated. Especially when Steve blushes, shifting his hand out of the way, fingers tracing the warmth.
"You're so..." Eddie whispers, frowning as he struggles for the word.
His hand keeps straying, thumb tracing the skin bellow his bottom lip, tugging down slightly, gentle. Just enough to part his lips.
"Perfect?" Steve offers, keeping his voice hushed so he doesn't break whatever moment they're having.
But Eddie shakes his head, finally meeting Steves eyes. "Human."
He looks at Steve with love. His fingers are still on his face, he can feel the marble, can feel that he isn't. He looks at Steve with the same curiosity, the same desire, that he always has.
"Eddie..." Steve whispers. There's too many emotions, too strong, so unfamiliar. It feels like it's trying to find a way out of him, bloating him with emotions. He wonders if this is what people usually feel like.
"Steve?"
"Kiss me."
Eddies smile is so soft, so gentle. His kiss matches it, so soft and slow and gentle. Loving. His other hand comes up, cupping Steves face like he's something precious. Like he's delicate.
He doesn't learn his last thing about people that day, but it feels like the most important.
Sometimes, humans are nice. And they do love him.
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softest-punk · 6 months
Note
I reread the immortal throuple leash thing and have been gnawing on Hob loving having a practically imaginary boyfriend and now I’m wondering if there’s anything Dream likes in particular about having an especially real boyfriend?
- 🌖
ooh, ooooooh, yes this is an EXCELLENT question
---
There was a time when Dream of the Endless would have sworn with perfect honesty that he could not imagine ever being truly comfortable in the waking world. Had he sworn such a thing, his past self would now be a liar.
Curled up against the wonder that is Hob Gadling, with his head pillowed on a warm, solid chest and one leg thrown over him, he is beginning to wonder if true human sleep is within his capabilities, just so he might enjoy the pleasure of waking up like this. As Calliope, mirroring Dream on the other side of the bed, does.
As is perhaps natural, he is particularly enchanted by Hob in sleep. He is not currently dreaming, merely sleeping, and this renders his body soft and pliant, quiet but by no means silent. Under his ear, Dream can hear the beat of a heart that has been promised to him eternally.
It is the first anyone has promised him a heart that is strictly real. That exists, in the most literal sense, and is not merely a metaphor for something more abstract. He does not have a heart, and neither, in this literal sense, does Calliope.
Under his fingers is a small scar on Hob's belly, puckered flesh healed some six hundred years previous but permanently etched into Hob's skin. A reminder that he bleeds, and cries, and sweats, and that he does all of these things in truth. Dream may cry, but there is no salt in his tears, only intention. He may bleed, and occasionally has, but no substance that exists outside of his own vast mind spills from him. He cannot leave a stain, or any mark at all. Even after months spent nightly in this bed, at least an hour or two, it does not smell of him at all, because any scent he has exists only in the minds of the being perceiving him.
If he shuffles down further—and he does, since the thought of Hob has consumed his attention entire, a phenomenon that would be terrifying to nearly any other conscious being but which consistently delights Hob—he can hear more of Hob's inner workings. The inflation of his lungs, in time with the rise and fall of his chest. Dream sometimes remembers to breathe, and sometimes does so without intending to, but now he is still. Opposite him, Calliope also lies unbreathing, though she is in the habit of doing so awake. Hob, a creature truly of flesh and bone, cannot stop. No more than he can stop all the small contractions of his insides, the complex and delicate workings of his digestive system. Calliope has long chosen to eat for pleasure and Dream, too, has discovered the potential for enjoyment, but Hob must.
There is something achingly tender, Dream has found, about bringing Hob sustenance, providing him with something he requires to survive with no metaphor between them. Calliope needs only that someone still believes in her, and Dream needs only that something remains to dream. But Hob must have food, and water, and sunlight, and air, and shelter, enough warmth but not too much, and even companionship. He must have dreams.
Hob would perhaps not like to be thought of as fragile or delicate, but he is these things, and all the more beautiful for them.
"Oneiros?" Calliope asks, in a voice thick with sleep.
Dream feels the same sensation he associates in humans with having one's hand caught in the metaphorical cookie jar.
"I was only..." he begins, unsure how to explain himself. "Thinking of how wonderful he is."
The truth will have to be explanation enough.
Calliope smiles softly, eyes shining with affection.
"He also says these things about you," Calliope says. "When you cannot hear him."
"Oh," Dream says, letting his head rest on Hob's stomach.
"Let him sleep," she says. "Tell him in the morning."
Dream nods—Calliope's advice about Hob has always been excellent—and shuffles back into place, to settle as he had been before.
In the morning, he kisses stale breath from Hob's mouth, licks the salt of his sweat from his skin, demands to be pinned under all his warmth and solidity, and tells him. Tells him of all the wonder Dream finds in him, the delicacy and complexity, the pleasure he takes in it.
Hob laughs, and kisses him again.
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jurdanhell · 1 year
Note
Okay so basically, I was re reading the chapter where Cardan asks Jude “and is it out of your system?” And Jude’s like “oh yea yea totally” sis, we all know that’s LIES 😂. I was just trying to imagine an alternate scene thinking.. what if she says no? Idk about anyone else but I think it would lead to basically chapter 15 part 2 so I was wondering if you could write a filthy something something 😂🥴 (like I mentioned before, no pressure)
I Will Know Nothing (Until I Know You)
Read it on AO3!
Word Count: 1,432
Rating: Mature
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“And is it?" He asks. "Out of your system?”
I think of the blusher mushroom, the deathsweet, the wraithberry running through my veins with equal measure ferocity and instinct. We are alike in this way.
“No,” I say, because the indulgence of poison is one that I know greater than anything else.
I am unlearned at love and its making, but no matter how obvious that is to him, he does not let it show. Not when he guides my hands so carefully over him. Not when he redirects my nails to claw again at his back as he brings his mouth to the tender space just behind my ear. I suck my lip between the sharpest edges of my teeth, against the sound that rumbles in the back of my throat, because what this really is is a secret, and the more he knows is all the more he can use against me. I bite down on my lip hard enough to bleed. 
The familiar sickness of poison roils through my gut, twinged with something else. A layer of sweat sheens over my skin and I am dizzy from the blood that rushes to my cheeks, my head, no doubt as diseased as what I’d ingested only earlier today. As infected as myself. 
I tip my head back, again reminded of the things we’d done in that secret room behind the throne, and all the things we hadn’t. He brings his mouth to the hollow of my throat, pushing me back into the office in the Court of Shadows that I’ve taken as my own. He pauses only to push the door closed. 
The dizzying absence from his hands on my skin leaves as quickly as it arrives, as though it was aware of how soon it would be replaced with another, equally intoxicating feeling. 
Since my time in Faerie, I have grown very good at pretending. Pretending that my muscles do not sing from the acute pain from the swinging of my sword, pretending that it didn’t hurt every time I’d been made an example of being something lesser. Pretending that I do not feel as I do, hiding even from myself. I am not sure I keep the longing off my face, but with his hands drifting down the tie of my breeches, nose deep in the crook of my neck, I am not sure it matters. 
Perhaps desire is like mithridatism, where I should be taking doses slowly, accumulating my body to the poison until it affects me no longer. Perhaps my overindulgence here will kill me as surely as any sharp blade. 
It isn’t until he sinks down onto his knees, pushing the backs of my legs to the edge of the desk, mouth drifting across my navel that I decide that I do not care. 
Religion in Faerie is scarcely discussed, brought up only with the slandering of poor fates and cursed as surely as any gambling man might blame the hand. There might have been gods, once, but anything infinite in an immortal mind is just as easily forgotten. But he slides my breeches down to my knees with such piety, pushing my legs apart with such reverence that I’m sure one of us has found it. 
Something flutters in my chest as he brings his mouth to my center, looking up at me through his dark lashes. Not as though I ought to be the one praying, but as though this is the prayer. As though any noise I might make would make for choir, would carry the cadence of a hymn. He looks at me as though he means to memorize it, this moment. The shape of my very skin. 
His hands move methodically against me, into me. There is strategy here yet, and I refuse to concede. I will not concede. 
This time, I do not let my hands shake.
I bring one hand to his hair and knot my fingers so deeply I am not sure they will ever be free. I am not sure I want them to be. His tongue brushes flat against me, but it is the heat of his breath against my bare thigh that is my undoing. He moans my name against my skin, whispering dirty things I'm certain he would not say if his goal wasn't to make me give in. I will not give in. 
I lean back against the desk, putting my weight on my elbow. I’m half-aware of something being knocked to the floor when he sinks lower to bring one of my legs over his shoulder. 
There is an awful kind of pleasure in being granted what you’ve so desperately wanted, even if you’ve convinced yourself you didn’t. It seems we are both good at making terrible decisions. 
This deep underground, it is too dark for plants to grow. There are no windows to allow moonlight to skim in, pooling like milk against the scarce furniture that was undoubtedly stolen for the home of thieves. That does not stop vines from snaking their way up the walls, cloying around any surface they can find purchase on. Surely, deep down in their making, they must know they were doomed to die the moment they sprouted. There is nothing for them here. No light, no water. No chance for survival. 
That is what I tell myself as Cardan’s other hand slips beneath my shirt to palm at my breast. That is what I tell myself as I let him. There is no chance for survival. There is no way I would have survived this, anyway. 
Maybe I can still take him down with me. 
His finery is disarranged as I pull against his hair, beckoning him to his feet as I yank him roughly overtop of me, laying myself flat against the desk, my hair spilling over the edge. He looks dissatisfied, as though he were a cat whose cream I’d just stolen for no other reason than to be cruel.
I am, I know. But not for this. 
His lips are swollen when I bring them roughly to my own, tasting myself from his mouth. It is a stupor that fills my lungs, my brain, working its way into my blood that controls me. My volition is not my own. I do not think it has been for a long while. 
My hands go to his breeches, toying with the lace in the front, but not untying it. I do not know much, enough that he is aware of, but not so little that I am completely unknowledgeable. I refuse to think of the way he looked up to me, his mouth against the softest parts of my skin, drawing sensitive shapes with his teeth, his tongue. 
A flower I do not recognize springs from the ivy that unfolds above us, a deep blue that might have been purple in the sun, trumpeting from its stem on the vine. Its yellow-white center does not shy away from the darkness of the room around us. 
I move my hands to undo the buttons of his shirt with as much slowness as I can manage with his mouth working delicious cruelties over a soft spot on my neck. 
The room is overcome with blooming buds in the darkness. One of my hands drifts over a knot of scars at his back, and I realize that it is not despite the darkness that they crest so fully, so openly, that it is in spite of it. That, maybe there is a kind of bravery in being so honest. In knowing the risks of a poison, and taking the plunge anyway. 
He pushes himself against me in a way that is somehow more intimate than when we were both bare. It is not unlike when the clouds part from a silvered sky, letting the moonlight drink in the land, the faelights crashing up into the stars and melding into the air. Somehow, the unbrokenness of this moment is what is visceral, is so guarded by its profoundness that it will know nothing else. I am certain that when I open my eyes, I will see stars.
I am filled with a hatred so hot it warms me from the inside out, so bright that I might never truly be cold. 
I hate that he is the one that makes me feel this way, and that the statement alone is as much honesty I can bare, even to myself. I am a coward. 
My thoughts are splintering under the guiding action of his fingers, and I realize his clever poison is not simply along the sweat of his skin or tucked in between stolen kisses. It is in his words, his breath, and it is in me, too. And now, I am not sure I will ever be able to escape it.
Masterlist
i don't think i've ever written a first-person tfota fic. anyway i have absolutely nothing to say for myself. enjoy, sluts and whores <3
Tag List:
@cutekawaiihentaiboobies @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @whoviantalibah @snusbandxknifewife @goddess-of-writing @storiesandschemes @thesirenwashere @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @andromeddea @clockworkgraystairs @hizqueen4life @highqueenjudeduarte @the-chick-of-the-air @dorkzrul @sassylunars @justabunchoffandoms @queenofgreenbriar @fandomfanatic987 @df3ndyr @brittneyal @woodsbeyond1 @clouds-and-peonies @mis-lil-red @firestarsandseneschals @b00kworm @bisexual-bibliophile @greenbumblebee @danaanruhn @acciomanorian @ireallyshouldsleeprn @vanessa172003 @janeslandrys @potterpasties @nahthanks @ahdiejajdjsiaksudjjssj @queen-of-demons-and-hell @thefolkofthefic @myunfortunatenightmare @reneereadsstuff @lordoftermites @figonas @aftg-tcp-soc4402 @dumble-daddy @greenbriarxrose @shadowhuntingdemigod @pollyaunt @kittkatandbooboo @savagelysarcasticsilence @romantic-loverr @teenyweenynightghost @bookcide
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marydublinauthor · 20 days
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Shot in the Dark releases May 14, 2024!! EXCERPT BELOW 👇🏼
After all these years, Jon Cliff and Sylvia are getting a NEW debut in this 4-6 book series where fairies, hunters, found family and forbidden romance collide. If you’ve read our shorts over the years here and even enjoyed the original 2013 release, you will LOVE this. @kendsleyauthor and I worked so hard on making it epic and more polished than ever before.
I know we’ve been more quiet on here as we struggle to keep up with all our platforms and personal life (mental health struggles suck y’all lol) BUT we truly can’t wait for you to read this.
Updates:
Preorder coming later this month!
If you review books, sign up to be an Arc Reader and help boost our book’s visibility! You get to read a free electronic copy of the book before official release in exchange for an honest review
Add to Goodreads and Storygraph now (also helps us!)
More to come— But for now, enjoy this juicy excerpt from JON’S POV! 💕
“Every non-human I’ve ever met only causes pain and death,” I said. “They want us to bleed by their very nature. But… you haven’t tried anything. You haven’t tried to kill us, seduce us into selling our souls, or trap us in an eternal nightmare. I don’t understand you.”
The fairy’s eyes widened, and she scoffed at me. “Well, forgive me for confusing you by not being a murderer. How can someone like you be remotely afraid of me?”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
“And sometimes, they’re exactly what they are,” she fired back.
I didn’t wrestle off the tired, wry smile that came to my lips. “For someone the size of a mouse, you’ve got a lot of spirit.”
Her green eyes flickered, raking me up and down. Her posture softened like she was slowly seeing less of a snarling animal in me. “If you weren’t a hunter,” she said. “I might actually accept that as a compliment.”
“That’s a shame, then.”
“It is.” She sniffed, looking away pointedly.
The tug in my chest resurfaced—I couldn’t let her sleep thinking I might smother her before she awoke. She had to know we were going to release her. Somehow, it mattered to me that I wouldn’t stay a complete monstrosity in her eyes.
“I lied to you,” she announced, halting my train of thought.
I drew in a sharp breath and leaned away from her slightly. She didn’t appear to be priming herself to attack, but I stayed wary all the same. “What is it?” I asked.
“I…” She wet her lips and wrestled with herself. “I was there the night before you caught me. There were two humans. They didn’t see me, but I heard them. They… mentioned that hunters might be after them—”
“What?” I blurted, crowding toward her.
She cringed away, casting a wild look around the room for an escape.
“Hey.” I lowered my voice. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Look at me.”
Hesitantly, she did.
“You can tell me,” I assured. “It’s alright. What did they look like? What’d they say? Any names?”
“I couldn’t see their faces, and I don’t think I heard any names, but… I’m starting to think one of them was your monster. I’ve never been near one before, but something felt horribly wrong.”
“What does that mean?”
“There’s this… ability I have. A sort of instinct.” Each word fell from her lips hesitantly as though any one of them might set me off. “I can sense non-humans and other beings that you would consider unnatural. It’s meant to help my kind steer clear of those things. Maybe I could point you in the right direction if you take me back to that old house. But if I do that, you’ll have to let me go. Does that sound like a fair deal?”
Desperate hope painted her face. It was a little heartbreaking. I considered telling her I planned to release her regardless of what she offered, but it was a tempting ability to make use of.
“Why didn’t you say something about this earlier?” I asked.
Fresh, uncertain tears welled in her eyes. “I thought you’d kill me if I told you everything. You wouldn’t have a use for me anymore. And then, I thought if I admitted I lied…”
“You thought we’d kill you for that,” I finished. “So why admit it now?”
She shrugged, mumbling, “You didn’t lock me in the microwave. That counts for something, I suppose.”
After pondering her offer, I nodded. “Okay. We have a deal. You help us at the house, and you’re free to go.”
“Free to go immediately after,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “Swear that you won’t enslave me.”
I scoffed. “That didn’t even cross my mind.”
“Not even for a second?” She frowned suspiciously. “When was the last time you negotiated with a non-human? Stars, when’s the last time you spared a non-human?” When I couldn’t come up with an answer, she made a small noise of contempt.
“Fine,” I said. “I promise there’s no strings attached after you help us. But we’re not going anywhere until Cliff comes back with the car, so we may as well get some rest.”
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star-girl69 · 1 year
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this was requested to me in a pm but this is the gist of it-
aemond x f!reader who is the daughter of a high ranking lord who is close friends with helaena and the rest of the royal family, but has a particularly close relationship with aemond. he comes to her for comfort after the pink dread joke, she goes to him when she has nightmares about the day he lost eye, and they basically just slowly fall in love with each other throughout their childhood. later, it is revealed that reader is bethrothed to someone else. aemond freaks out and then typical aemond-ness ensues.
this is so ooc but it’s cute so whatever also i apologize for it being so long i hope you all enjoy!!
warnings: violence, kissing, swearing, mentions of sex, reader cries a lot, parental neglect (kinda?), tell me if i missed anything!
You Have Always Been Mine
—-
The fire crackles as you stare into it. Fire has always transfixed you, which was probably why you were so intwined in the family of fire and blood.
You were the fourth daughter of a powerful lord, only good for being a bargaining chip in a marriage. Your parents had been chasing a son, but only daughters came to them.
When you first visited King’s Landing, you were utterly lost. By chance, you stumbled upon Helaena in the gardens, a spider weaving between her fingers. You were fascinated by her bravery, and she was fascinated by yours. No one would ever approach her like this- so boldly ask what she is doing. Everyone walks on eggshells around her. But you were not like that, and she found herself not wanting to leave your side.
At Alicent’s request, you became a part of the family. Your parents agreed to it, seeing as it was one less worthless daughter to feed. Helaena told everyone you were her sister, and it was Alicent who held you when you got your first bleed.
Until the day you died, you would always be inexplicably tied with the Targaryens.
The sun has long since set, and your handmaidens has retired shortly after. You had tried to find sleep, but it would not come for you. You figured some needlepoint would help your mind to calm, your body to lull itself into a state of sleep.
So, at this late hour, when you hear a knock upon your door, there could only be one person on the other side.
“Come in,” You call, and the door opens to the sight of Aemond Targaryen. He bars the door, walking over to your sitting area quickly. “What troubles you, Aemond?”
He always came to you for comfort- and you were all too happy to provide it. You were too young to truly understand what was happening, but your stomach clenched each time you saw Aemond, each time you heard his name, or even thought about him.
“They gave me a pig.” He settles down on the couch, pushing his head into your lap. You quickly move your needlepoint, afraid of accidentally injuring him.
“What do you mean?”
“Jace, Luke, and Aegon. Today, during our dragon riding lesson. They put fake wings on a pig.” Your heart twisted for him.
“Oh, Aemond.” Your fingers wound into his hair, softly scratching his scalp. He sighed into your touch. “I’m sorry. They are so cruel to you… I- I do not know why.” He keeps his eyes closed, and you don’t cease your scratching. “If I could change it, I would. In a heartbeat, Aemond.” He opens his eyes, and you move your hand to caress the side of his face.
“Sometimes I think you are the only one who truly loves me, Y/N.” He grabs your hand with his own, holding it there as if he is scared you will pull away. You would never, not unless he asked.
“You speak lies. Helaena loves you, and your mother does.”
“Yes, but not truly. Not as you do. You love me like you can look into my soul and see every bad thing I will ever do- and yet you still love me.”
“I doubt I could ever not love you, Aemond.” He turns his face, pressing a kiss to your palm.
“Promise you won’t leave me to the vultures.”
You smile. “I promise, Aemond.”
—-
The worst day of your life was when Aemond lost his eye. The fear- not knowing if you would lose him. You knew even then that you could not bear losing him.
Even weeks after that day, you found yourself having nightmares.
They would start similar to the actual events, a servant telling you to go the hall- that Prince Aemond had been injured.
You were not sure if you would ever forget the fear you felt when the servant told you that.
You would run to the hall, tripping over your skirts and worry snaking around your throat like a hand, choking you.
You would open the doors with a bang, look around frantically until you caught sight of him sitting by the fire. You would be relieved, and run over.
But when you were only a few feet away you wouldn’t see the gash over his eye. Oh, he was fine. You would grab his hand, notice how it was cold and limp in your hands. Then you would look up, see a knife sticking out of his heart.
And you would wake up screaming.
Tonight was no different.
It was the last night of your journey back to the Red Keep, leaving behind that horrible Driftmark.
But tonight, you could not bear it. You needed to see him- remind yourself that he was still alive.
So, with shaky legs and a teary face, you climbed out of bed, feet padding against the cold wooden floor. The door creaked as you opened it, and you flinched, but no one came.
You crossed the hallway, opening his door as softly as you could. His did not creak, and you sent a silent thank-you to the gods.
You shut the door behind you, turning around.
You had just wanted to come in while he was sleeping, see that he was okay, see the rise and fall of his chest, and leave. But he was sitting up in bed, waiting for you.
“I heard you scream.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone could hear.”
“I would always hear you if you were in trouble, Y/N.” He seems almost bored, stating that as if it was a fact.
You smirked. “Even if I was a million miles away?”
He gulps and doesn’t answer. “What was your nightmare about?”
“It- I shouldn’t burden you with it.” You walk forward, standing next to his bed. “I’m sorry for coming.”
“Don’t be. Tell me, Y/N.”
“I-” You feel the tears fall again at even just the memory. “Instead of your eye- there was a knife in your heart. You were dead, Aemond, and I could not bear it.”
He looks at you almost placidly.
“I just came to remind myself that you’re alive.” You place a hand on his face, the side closest to you that was maimed. “I’m so sorry, Aemond.”
“Lay with me.”
You take a step back, and he lets you. Your hand falls.
“Aemond- I can’t… It would be improper.”
He scoffed. “That is nothing. I am prince and you are a princess.” You open your mouth to speak but he stops you. “Alicent thinks of you her daughter, Helaena thinks you her sister. And you are mine. My best friend, and no one will take that from us.”
Your tears multiply at his words, but they are grateful tears.
“Lay with me,” He repeats, and you climb into his bed. He shuffles over, and you press your head against his chest. Feel his heartbeat. Remind yourself that he is here, he is alive, and he is yours.
The moon comes in through the window, shining off of the wall you are facing. You tilt your head up, look him in the eyes.
“I wish I could give you your eye back.”
“I know you would if you could.” You smile, and something ignites in his stomach.
When he said you were his, something had ignited in his stomach. But you were here, you were next to him, and you were his. You were his in a way that ran much deeper than blood, than marriages. You were his by cosmic right, by some way that your soul’s were tethered together.
If he lost you, he would not be able to live.
But he pushes that away, because you were here now, you were next to him, and you were his. At least for now.
—-
You knew that the years had been kind to you. Men stared at you in halls, asked for your hand in marriage. But you did not have your eye on them. You had your eye on your family.
You did not want to think about marriage, about being taken away from them. It loomed over you, growing closer everyday.
You confided in Helaena, and she told you that you would always be sisters.
The stars have demanded it, that we be sisters.
Of course, you never quite were able to decode Helaena’s riddles. But you took comfort in it.
When you told Aemond of your fears, he had gripped his sword handle as if he could bend it in half.
You will always be mine. Don’t dirty your mouth with talk of another man.
If you were being truthful, the years had been kind on Aemond as well. He trained all the time, his body lean muscle. He was much taller than you, and his sharp features and eyepatch inspired fear.
Not in you.
He was still your Aemond, the one who held you when you had nightmares, who came to you when he was hurt by his nephews and brother.
You entertained the thought of marrying him in your most private moments. It would be a dream, you would stay with your family, and be married to Aemond. No one would be able to take you away from each other.
But your parents still had the final say, and you figured this was why they were coming today.
You stood with the royal family, in between Aemond and Alicent.
Perhaps he knew what their coming meant, because you could feel his eyes on you, tracing over your face.
You wish he could think you were beautiful like you thought him to be, but you would always just be his best friend. But, to even have a little piece of him was better than none of him. Even if you both married other people- you could never love someone like you love him.
The carriage pulled to a stop in the courtyard, and your parents exited. Their wish had been granted, and a 5 year old boy raced out of the carriage, rambunctious and entitled. Your parents gave him everything, but alas, you hoped they had softened now that they had their son.
“Daughter!” Your father exclaimed, and you stepped forward. Your had been in the same etiquette lessons as Helaena, the etiquette for a princess was all you knew. Your mother eyed you, picking up your brother, whose name you knew to be Thomas.
Your father grabbed your hands, looking you over, nodding to himself.
Your mother stepped forward as well, Thomas pulling at her hair. She ignored it.
“You will make the most beautiful bride, soon.”
You hoped it was never.
“Oh,” Your father spoke up again, putting an arm around your mother. “I cannot bear to wait any longer. We have betrothed you. A Tyrell son- the first son, heir to Highgarden! I guess he saw you at court, and came to us for your hand.”
You could not see straight.
“You will be the Lady of Highgarden!” Your mother seemed to be ecstatic, and you felt your heart break.
You could not. You would not.
You were frozen. You did not know what to do, what to say. Behind you, you could feel the tension from the royal family roll off in waves.
You heard Helaena’s soft cries, Alicent trying to comfort her. You turned away from your parents. although your father was mid-sentence.
“Helaena-” You rushed forward, taking her into your arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” It was all you could repeat as your own tears fell.
“Have we caused some upset?” Your father was confused, you could tell.
“Yes.” Aemond’s voice. Oh, Aemond. You could not beat to leave him. You were not sure how to gather your thoughts, how to deal with this new information.
“Aemond,” Alicent scolded, but you heard the tightness in her voice. “I’m very sorry. My Lord, My Lady. We have just been taking care of Y/N for so long- this transition will be tough.”
“I see.” Now your fathers voice was tight.
“We are meant to be sisters. The stars demand it.” Helaena’s prophecies have always worked her into a frenzy, and you squeeze her tight, trying to bring her back to what was happening. Although you wanted to fade away with her as well.
“Y/N, come. We have much to discuss.” Your mother comes up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“Please,” And it is a whimper, a plea, said into Helaena’s hair as you bury yourself in her arms, trying to ignore what is happening.
“Y/N, I know this is difficult. But you will be married. The Tyrell boy is nice, and he will treat you well. Do not delay the inevitable.” Your mother’s counsel only makes you cry more, until she grabs you by the shoulder and rips you away from Helaena. “Insolent girl,” She mutters, keeping a death grip on your shoulder. She follows your father, and you look back.
Helaena is crying into Alicent’s neck, and Aemond’s jaw is clenched, face turning red in anger. He had not done that since you were young children.
“I’m sorry.” You mouth, and he does not answer.
—-
This is the longest you had gone without seeing them.
You had been with your parents, being prepared for life as a Lady.
But you were not a Lady- you were a Princess. Not in title, but in practice, and in your family’s eyes.
Your parents had told you to stay away from Helaena and Aemond, make the transition easier. It only hurt you all more. You wished you didn’t have to listen to them- that Alicent was your mother and she would protect you from this cruel fate.
Your felt horrible for thinking this way, but you could not help it.
The gardens were beautiful, and as you walked with Lord Tyrell, you came across the place you had first met Helaena. Tears threatened to spill, but you pushed them back.
“You are most beautiful. I am surprised no one has taken your hand yet.”
“Thank you, My Lord.” Would it be improper to throw up on him?
“Of course, everyone thought you would marry Prince Aemond. But he gets everything. You know, even after he lost his eye, he beat me in a tourney.”
You remembered that. The only tourney he has competed it, before deciding he hated them. He had won, of course, and you weren’t sure why he hated them. But you would support him, always.
“Spoiled boy.” He muttered and you turned. He turned to you, a victorious smile on his face. “But, justice has prevailed. I get his woman. Tell me, has he taken your maidenhead yet?”
“My Lord, I-” Was he questioning your virtue?
“Well, has he?” You were too shocked to form an answer as quick as he wanted you too, so he grabbed your chin harshly. “Did he?”
His fingers dug into your skin, and it hurt.
“N-n-no,” You were scared out of your mind, and tears threatened to spill. He just looked at you like you were his meal.
“Shame. You will never get to know how much more of a man I am.”
—-
You aren’t quite sure what time it is when you leave your chambers, but it’s dark and the halls are devoid of servants.
You look up at the door in front of you. Aemond’s. Behind that door holds so many memories- and you think about leaving him again. You truly cannot bear it.
You knock, hoping that he is inside.
The door opens quickly, and he is out of breath. Lose pants, and a linen t-shirt, he looks like your Aemond. You feel tears well. You are leaving him.
“Y/N. I knew you would come.”
“Aemond.”
He notices your tears, and he draws you inside his chambers, barring the door. He holds you against him as his hand fumbles with the lock.
“What’s wrong, dōna mēre?” Your heart squeezes at the nickname even through everything. He teases you, refuses to tell you what it means. And you are leaving him, so now you will never know.
He draws you to the couch, sitting side by side and he pulls you to his chest. Oh, how perfect this moment is. But then you remember what Lord Tyrell has done- why you are here, looking for comfort.
“T-that man, Aemond. He is horrible. He only wants me to fulfill some grudge against you. He questioned by virtue- when I didn’t answer- he- he grabbed by chin, so roughly, and it h-hurt…” You can feel him tense.
But he just shushes you and lays you down on the pillows, wraps a blanket around you. He pulls his hands away and you realize he is leaving.
“What are you doing?” Your voice is small, and Aemond’s anger only grows.
“I’m going to kill him.” You shoot up, faster than lightening. He whips around, getting on his knees to calm you down. “It’s alright,” He whispers. You can still feel the anger radiating off of him, but he pushes it down for your sake. You grab at his collar, trying to keep him from making a grave mistake.
“Y-you cannot throw your life away for me.”
“You are my life.”
The ferocity of his words hit you, as he grabs one of your wrist’s holding onto his collar.
“Aemond… do not say things like that.”
“Why?” His expression is hard. He is glaring at you, but you cannot find it in yourself to shy away.
“Because I am to be married, Aemond. And when you say that…” It seems like you might love me back.
“What? Tell me, Y/N.” He takes one of your hands, places it on his face.
“Because it gives me hope. That you might feel the same way I feel about you.” And you cannot lie to him, so it all comes pouring out. “Do not say things like that unless you can back it up, Aemond. Unless you love me.”
He presses a kiss to your palm. He speaks quickly, needing you to believe him. “I do love you. More than anything. You torture me, haunt me with just the thought of you. I need you. I cannot… You said you would not leave me. Don’t.”
You almost do not believe him, it seems too good to be true. But he speaks with such conviction you know it must be true.
Aemond Targaryen loves you more than anything.
Oh, this is all you have ever wanted. All you ever needed. And now you are being teared away from him.
“It’s not my choice. I would stay if I could. I would.”
He leans forward, breathes you in. He knows you speak the truth, but he does not want to believe it.
“I love you.” It is barely above a whisper, and your voice cracks with the emotion your pour into those three words, but he hears it all the same. You think it is the most true thing that has ever been spoken.
“How can I keep you?” He places his face next to yours, trailing your jawline with his nose. You wind your hands around his neck, if only to keep him close to you.
“I don’t know,” And you are lost in him, and you cannot think. He is the most addictive substance, and you will need him again and again after this. “Aemond…” You feel his breath, heavy on your cheek. It is heavenly. “Make me yours.”
“You always were.”
And he draws you in for the sweetest kiss, and you are lost.
—-
When you wake, it is to the sun shining on your face. You remember last night, your confessions, and how Aemond had kissed you. You press your fingertips to your lips, suppressing a smile.
An arm winds around your waist, and you recognize it immediately.
“Are you awake, dōna mēre?” His voice is rough as he whispers into your ear, and you find yourself wanting to drown in it.
You place you arm over his, sighing. “Aemond.”
“Y/N.”
You turn to your other side, to find Aemond facing you. His shirt is discarded, and you trace the indents of his stomach and chest with your finger. You lay on his arm, his hand cupping the back of your head, lips pressing into your hairline. You could truly stay like this forever.
“I love you.” He whispers, and it is the sweetest sound. His other hand trails down, caressing your thigh and drawing soft circles there.
“I love you too.” You whisper, and a cloud hangs over this moment. “Lord Tyrell intends for us to marry, tomorrow. He says that he is entranced with me, that he cannot wait.”
He seems unbothered. “His name does not deserve to be in your pretty mouth.”
“They will take me from you.” At this, his arm moves from your thigh to your waist, tugging you closer.
“I won’t let them take you, Y/N. I swear this to you.”
Your parents might come looking for you, but you don’t care. “Can we just stay together, today? Stay in here?”
“If it is what you wish, dōna mēre.”
—-
The sun has rolled behind a cloud, giving the room some much needed darkness. You have done nothing but reminisce, talk aimlessly. If you marry Lord Tyrell, it is possibly the last you will ever see of him.
You have moved to the couch, and you are in between his legs. His arms wrap around you from behind, and you are at peace.
You wish to be with him, for today. It is all you have, and it is not enough, but better than nothing.
Aemond leans forward, presses a bare kiss to your shoulder. You have been sitting in silence.
“I can’t marry him.”
“I know, dōna mēre.”
“Can you not do something? Can your mother not?”
“I don’t think so,” He places his chin on the top of your head. “But I will think of something.”
You want nothing more than to believe him.
—-
A few hours later, you leave him and lock yourself in your chambers. You cannot sleep without him, so you toss and turn as you think of Lord Tyrell- and your approaching wedding.
—-
The next morning, you awake to your mother. She is singing praises, telling you that your dress looks wonderful, the gardens are decorated for the ceremony. You ask if Helaena and Alicent can help you get ready, and she tells you not to be stupid.
“They have more important things to do, my dear.”
“They are my family. I want them here.”
Her eyes narrow toward you. “I am your family. Your father is. And soon, Lord Tyrell will be. You will belong to him, and you will be most happy.”
“I love Aemond, Mother. I belong to him. I always have.” She purses her lips, setting a white dress onto your bed.
“It will pass.” Is all she says, and you cry while she helps you into your dress.
—-
Your eyes are still bloodshot, your tears have not stopped. No matter how much your mother scolds you, you do not stop.
You are crying as you are lead down to the gardens, as you sit there waiting for the Septon to get settled. You are crying as your father takes your arm, and you are crying as you walk down the aisle.
You pass by Helaena and Alicent. Helaena looks at you with so much longing, and you wish to fade into her embrace. Alicent smiles softly at you, as if to say: I’m sorry.
You notice Aemond’s absence, and do not blame him.
Your father lets go of your hand at the front of the altar, and you cannot look Lord Tyrell in the eyes.
“Why do you cry?” He asks, voice devoid of genuine concern.
You do not answer.
—-
The Septon is a old man, grey hair and bad posture. He sinks in front of you, looking sickly. It seems neither of you want to be here.
“And do you, Lady Y/N, take Lord Tyrell to be your husband?”
You do not answer.
“Say it.” Lord Tyrell whispers, and you feel physically sick.
“She does not.” You turn at the sound of his voice.
Aemond.
He is yours, and you are his, and he would never let you be taken.
“Aemond,” You whisper, and before Lord Tyrell can react, you are running to him.
“Y/N,” He says as you reach him, and you long to feel the press of his lips upon yours. You miss him, and it has been only a single night. You run past his extended sword, into his arms.
You press your ear against his chest. One palm laid flat over his heart, the other on his shoulder. He wraps his free arm around your waist, and you are reminded of the painting in the library.
Aegon the Conquerer, holding Queen Rhaenys just like this, sword extended.
“Lord Tyrell,” You can feel his voice reverberate through his chest. “I challenge you to a duel for Lady Y/N’s hand.”
“What is the meaning of this insolence?” Your father is shouting, walking towards you with a dangerous look in his eyes.
Aemond extends his wrist, so the tip of his sword is pointed straight at your father’s chest. Even from feet away, he stops. He realizes then, that this man would kill him for you, and you would let him.
“It’s alright, My Lord.” Lord Tyrell is smirking, as if he knew this would happen. You do not pay attention to anyone else, only staring into his eyes with a venom.
With Aemond here, you are not afraid anymore.
“I accept this duel.”
Aemond does not smirk, does not let anything be betrayed in his voice or face. He is only unbridled rage, barely concealed under a thin layer of calm.
“To the death of first bleed?”
“First bleed. I would like to see your jealousy when her stomach swells with my seed.” Aemond does not react.
He kisses the top of your heads, and pushes you over to Alicent and Helaena.
You look over your shoulder as you walk towards his mother and sister.
He is looking at you, and you know that even if he does not win, it will not matter. You are his by divine right, by the stars. You understand Helaena’s prophecy now, and she wraps you in her arms. Alicent embraces the both of you, letting out a breath of fear for her son.
Lord Tyrell takes his sword from it’s holster, mimicking Aemond.
They circle each other, and at first, it is silent.
The Septon has disappeared, you notice, probably thinking that this wedding is disgrace to the gods.
Your mother glares at you from across the aisle, your father watching the fight. You do not care.
“Maybe I’ll let you watch as I fuck her. You can imagine it is your name she’s screaming instead of mine.”
“Maybe I’ll let you live.”
His face drops, and is suddenly replaced with anger. He rushes forward, sword swinging overhead. Aemond blocks it easily with his sword, moving to the side. He crouches, foot swinging out to sweep Lord Tyrell off of his feet.
He falls, and breathes heavily. Aemond stands above him.
Lord Tyrell grunts, throwing dirt into Aemond’s face. He is disoriented for a second, and Lord Tyrell kicks him back, not being able to resist pushing him around.
But Aemond does not fall, and keeps on his feet.
Lord Tyrell chuckles. “You are a good fighter, Prince Aemond. A true dragon. But I know how to play with fire.”
“You would not know fire if it burned your face off.”
And then Aemond is leaping forward, engaging in a whirl of parleys and dodging, dirt being kicked up into the wind.
You can barely keep up, and realize you have been holding your breath. You let it out, feeling air refill your lungs. You imagine it was fire, and that you could use it to burn Lord Tyrell’s face off, and see if he can recognize it.
You almost laugh at the look of fear on Lord Tyrell’s face when his sword is knocked out of his hands.
He stands there, looking around desperately for some sort of plan. His sword is too far to run too, and his fists wouldn’t do much.
He looks up at Aemond, true fear in his eyes. You hold your breath. He could have another trick up his sleeve, but you doubt he is smart enough for that.
Aemond flips his sword around, using the butt of it to drive into Lord Tyrell’s sternum. He falls back, wind knocked out of him. He hits the ground with a thump, and you barely hear his next word.
“Please…”
Aemond lines his sword up at Lord Tyrell’s throat.
Then, he flicks his sword up and a small cut appears on Lord Tyrell’s chin, welling blood immediately.
“First bleed.” He whispers, and for a second, you are too stunned to believe it. He sticks his sword back into his holster. “Y/N.” You watch Lord Tyrell as he stands up, grabbing his sword and running away with his tail between his legs.
You run over, and he embraces you, and it is how it’s meant to be.
“I wish to marry Lady Y/N, as soon as possible.” Alicent comes over, bringing you both into a hug.
“We can start the preparations immediately.”
Helaena grabs your hand.
“The stars demand it, that we be sisters.” Her eyes widen and she nods, knowing that you understand now.
You mother and father walk over.
“We arrange this nice marriage for you,” Your mother is in tears, holding onto your father. “And you trample it under your foot. You are no daughter of ours.”
They stand there, wait for some sort of reaction.
Alicent wraps her arms around your neck, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You will always have a mother in me, sweetling.” You thank her, and your mother seems appalled, but your father tugs her away.
Aemond kisses the top of your head.
—-
It is later in the evening, and you are flat on your back, sweating and panting. Aemond rolls off of you, breathing heavily as well.
He puts a hand on your face, so you’re facing him as he lays on his side.
“You were truly made me for me.”
“Dōna mēre.” Your High Valyrian is horrible. “What does it mean?”
He presses a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Sweet one,” He whispers against you.
—-
496 notes · View notes
multifamdomfan · 5 months
Note
Hi, if requests are still open and if you still write for Hamilton could I request an imagine where the fem!reader was Alex’s wife, they met and fell in love during the Winter's ball. And, she first met him when she was in the war (dressed as a man) but Alex never knew it was her until he found out himself. And maybe has a near-death experience fighting in a duel for any reason you want. And years later, she maybe becomes a lawyer/statesman or whatever as long as she's not a housewife and she finds out Alex had an affair and she like goes to Laurens for comfort but he ends up confessing he has loved her since day one when they met at the Winter's ball but saw she was so much happier with Alex (and it's kind of like an Angelica situation.) and how he would have never if he knew that was what Alex was going to do to her. And finally, he asked her to be with him. Also, could you please make the reader Washington's adopted daughter? I know it's a lot but even if you don't do it, thank you for just reading it. I just kinda wanted a lot of angst followed by fluff but since I can't stand the thought of having been with some who cheated on me and didn't love me, could you please make Alex still love the reader but realize if he wanted her to be happy, he would have to let her go and as soon as the Reader is thinking "You know what? I should forgive." He just dies. I feel bad for the Reader, not gonna lie. Thank you again. <33
Prompts: "May I have this dance?" (Hamilton to Reader) "Shit, are you bleeding?!" (Hamilton to Reader) “You need to leave. Right now.” (Reader to Hamilton) “You need to let her go.” (Anyone who seems right to Hamilton) "Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?" (Laurens to Reader) But hey, it’s up to you, I'm just giving suggestions on what I was thinking.
Note: And yes, in my fantasy world, Laurens doesn't die and is still alive in Act II.
😮😍 I love this request! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I hope you don't mind but I'm turning this into a two part.
warning: angst,character death,cheating
Why does love hurt so much? Pt. 1
I was reading my book in my room when my dad, George Washington, knocked gently against the door. Well if you want to get technical he's my adoptive dad. My biological parents when I was young and was sent to the orphanage when George and his wife ,Martha, adopted me. I closed my book and put it down and called out "Come in!" When Dad came in I immediately knew that something was wrong. He was fiddling with his hands and his eyes cast down onto the floor looking frantic. "What is it father?"
"Y/N I need to tell you something," I looked at him curiously while Dad was looking like he was trying to find the right words to say. "There is really no way to say this but I'm going to go to war." He said this quickly and nervously watching to see how I'll react.I didn't respond, not at first I looked at him with a blank expression trying to comprehend what he just said.
"What?" He remained silent like he was waiting for me to tell, scream, or do something. "Let me come with you, I can help!"
"No! You're not coming, it's too dangerous."
"But you're going! You will be there to look after me and you taught me to use a gun since I was ten!"
"I won't always be there to look after you, I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you. Just promise me that you won't follow me."
I sighed in defeat "I promise." Dad came up to me and hugged me. I hugged back thinking about how I lied to his face.
I put my hair that's now shoulder length and tied my hair up. I looked down at myself with my uniform on with bandages over my breast to flatten them out. I nodded at my reflection in approval before walking out of my tent. My dad found out that I was pretending to be a man to fight in the war immediately but he kept my secret.
I approached my friends Lafayette, Hercules, John, and Alexander. We became friends quickly, and no. They have no idea that I'm a woman and plan to keep it that way. There is one problem, I developed a crush on one of the four men. It's Alex, I couldn't help it. He's passionate, smart, and kind. "Hey James!" Hercules called over to me.
Yes James is the name that I chose because it was my biological dad's name. "Hi." I responded, lowering my voice and octive to keep from sounding too feminine. I sat next to Alexander and joined in on the conversation before we heard a loud noise. We all turned our heads to see what it was. It was the red coats, we sprung into action grabbing our guns.
There was death all around us with an overwhelming smell of blood but we had to keep moving I killed a couple men before they could kill me first. Then I was a man aiming for Alexander about to shoot, without thinking I shoved him out of the way and took the bullet. All I could hear was a distant yelling at the word "James!" He quickly rushed over and got in my field of vision. "Shit, you're bleeding."
"You need to leave. Right now." I responded not wanting him to find out. Alex ignored what I said and ripped my shirt off and saw the bandages being soaked with blood. He looked shocked at first but knew it wasn't the time to talk about it and used my shirt to apply pressure to the wound and rushed me to the medics.
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m-writes-stories · 3 months
Text
I'm Always Here - Part 3
Warnings: hospital, passing out, pregnancy, drinking (of age), hints of sex, language, medical talk, bleeding, talk of death of baby, 
Word Count: 1531
1 month later
You were in the hospital. Three months ago you passed out in your bedroom. After 3 minutes of you not waking up Travis called 911. Once at the hospital, you guys found out that you were pregnant. You got nervous. Honestly you didn’t know if it was Travis’ or Sam’s.
2 months ago
You saw Travis at the bar. Your mom had convinced you to go to a party and now here you were. You were already very drunk. 
Your mom was watching Avery, so you wouldn’t have to worry about getting home to her until the following morning.
You got up heading to the bathroom and saw Travis get up, out of the corner of your eye. You walked to the bathroom and then was pushed up against the wall. 
“Hi.”
“Hello pretty girl.”
You couldn’t remember much of the night. But you did remember waking up the next morning, naked in Travis’ bed.
You were still shocked today. The doctor was nervous about your blood pressure and wanted to keep you in the hospital until they could keep it under control for more than 24 hours. Which had yet to happen.
Travis walked in with at least five bags in his hands. You looked over and saw him walking in. 
“What is all of that?”
“Options.”
“Of?”
“Everything. I thought I would go shopping and buy some self care items for you.”
“Travis, that bag says Louis Vuitton.”
“I may have also bought a lot of other things too. It’s all for you. Actually, I lied. I bought some things for Avery too.”
You laughed, smiling and moved over on the bed for him. 
“So this all is from Ulta. I got your favorite makeup and skin care. And I got you new shampoo since you said you were out. I got you a new Louis Vuitton purse. I call it the mom purse. But I also got Avery a backpack.”
“They gave me a due date and they’re gonna run a paternity test.” You said. 
“Oh.”
“You said that in a bad way.”
He grabbed your hand, “no, it’s just I want it to be mine.”
“I want it to be yours too. But what if it isn’t?”
“I’ll love it like my own. Always will. Does the due date match with our timeline?”
“Yeah, but I was with Sam the night before too. I’m so scared Travis. I haven’t even told him I’m pregnant yet.”
The nurse walked in. 
“We’re gonna do the test now so we’re gonna need a sample from Mr. Kelce.” The nurse says.
“Ok.”
Travis nodded and went downstairs to give them his blood sample. 
You waited a couple minutes before he came back into your room.
“Can we facetime Avery?”
Avery had been staying with Travis’s mom while you were in the hospital. Travis occasionally was with her, but with practice and wanting to stay with you as much as possible, it had to choose.
“Hey Travis.” His mom answered smiling. 
“Hey.” You smiled, “how is Avery?”
“She’s good. She really misses you guys.”
You bursted into tears. Travis rubbed your arm. Seconds later you saw Avery appear she was eating cookies. 
“Hi mama,” Avery said.
“Hi baby girl. How are you?”
“I good, mama. I love Gamma Donna.”
“I bet you do. I miss you baby. I love you.”
“We love you baby. Be good for Grandma Donna,” Travis says.
“I will.”
The doctor knocked on the door and they hung up on FaceTime. 
“Dr. Stevens, right?” Travis asked. 
“Yes.” He said, “how’s everything going today?”
“I’m okay. Can we just get to it?” you said, not wanting to make small talk.
“The test results.” He pulled them up on the iPad.
“Yes, the fucking test results. What else?” you snapped.
“They match.”
“So Travis is the father?” you asked.
“Travis is the father.”
You started to cry. Travis pulled you in for a hug.
“Oh thank the fucking lord,” Travis says.
He kissed the top of your head. You kissed him and it was a long passionate kiss. He loved it.
“I have some other news as well,” Dr. Stevens said.
“Ms. Y/L/N—“
“What is it?”
“You can officially go home. Your blood pressure has been stable since yesterday morning. Meaning we hit our 24 hour mark.”
Two hours later 
Travis was helping you into the car. You were happy to be heading to Donna’s for a bit. Travis was going to be staying there with you as well. 
You reached Donna’s house, when you felt all your emotions be released. You started to tear up.
“Honey what’s wrong?” Travis asked, looking confused and scared.
“I’m just so glad we are going home. I missed Avery so bad, and our bed, and not being bothered 24/7.”
He chuckled, nodding, “Yeah mom won’t bother you she’ll check in on you every once in a while.”
“Yeah I missed her too, especially her cooking.”
“Me too. Let’s go get out girl though. I missed her hugs.”
Travis helped you out of the car and up to the front door.
You both walked in and he got you settled into the guest room. Avery by your side. Travis went into the kitchen. 
“Hey, I didn’t even herer you guys come in,” Donna said, walking over to hug Travis. 
“Sorry mom, she’s settled into the guest room with Avery. We’re having another baby.”
“Oh that’s good.”
“Yeah, but anyway. I’m gonna grab some food and go get settled.’
“Oh, I made dinner. I’ll heat it up and bring it to you guys,” Donna said. 
“Thanks mom, I’m gonna help her shower and see if Avery wants any dinner. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” Travis says to his mom. 
Travis goes upstairs and walks into the bathroom. He begins getting it ready for her shower. He puts her towel in the towel warmer. 
“Daddy, can I watch tv?” Avery asked.
“Yeah that’s fine baby girl.”
You turn the tv on a Disney movie and Avery becomes engrossed. 
“Come on baby,” Travis whispers in your ear.
He helped you into the bathroom and into the shower. The hot water soothes your skin and muscles. Travis helped you finish washing up and drying off.
You get back in bed and eat dinner. You finally get relaxed as you snuggle up next to Travis. You love this man. 
“I love you, Travis.”
“I love you too?”
“I just wanted to tell you. I don’t think I could ever find anyone else like you.”
“Well good, because you are stuck with me no matter what.”
“Geez that’s harsh. I could always run away and marry Jason.” You laughed at his facial expression, “ I mean he's got a great beard.”
“Yeah, I don’t think Kylie would let that happen.”
“You can’t see all three of us being in a relationship?” you laughed.
“Oh my god your nuts.” 
“You’re finally realizing this?”
“Nah, I’ve known since day one.”
The Next Day
You woke up to the sun shining through the curtains. You rolled over to find Travis’ side of the bed empty. You felt a wetness under your legs. You moved the comforter to find a blood stain.
“Donna!” You shout as panic runs down your body. 
She comes running in with Kylie and they both see the blood. 
“I’ll call Travis,” Kylie says.
Donna helps you into the bathroom to help you change into new pants.
“Travis is on his way,” Kylie comes in.
“I can’t lose this baby. I can’t. I might not survive it.”
“Honey, we're here for you.” Kylie says. 
“No, Kylie you don’t understand. I can't. If I lose this baby, I won’t survive.”
“You have us, Avery, and Travis.”
“Stop, you don’t understand. Yeah, Travis was happy when we found out about Avery, but we were also 19 and we were scared. When I told him I was pregnant again he lit up. I have never seen him happier. I can’t take this away from him.”
Minutes later Travis bolted into the house and flew up the stairs. He heard the women talking. He listened, staying outside the bathroom. 
It killed him to hear you blame yourself for this. He ran into the room about a minute later. 
“Travis?” you asked.
He hugged you. You lost it. 
“I’m so sorry, travis.”
“No, do not fucking apologize. You did not do anything. We are gonna go to the hospital and they are going to say that nothing is wrong.”
“Travis, something is fucking wrong, I’m bleeding.”
He carefully picked you up and ran out towards the car.
“Travis stop!”
He didn’t listen. He went to the hospital. He didn’t care. He wanted them both to be okay. He was nervous. 
Once you made it to the hospital, he got you out of the car and rushed into the emergency room.
“Help, my girlfriend is pregnant and she is bleeding,” he yelled.
Someone helped the two of you to a room and got some tests started. About an hour later, a doctor came in.
“Mr. Kelce and Ms. Y/L/N–”
“Mr and Mrs Kelce, please,” you said.
“I–”
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valeskafics · 1 year
Text
Little Wolf (Chapter Seven) - Robb Stark x Twin!Reader [main pairing], Theon Greyjoy x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader
A/N: IM SO GLAD THIS CHAPTER IS OVER IT KICKED MY ASS BYE
Summary: The Stark girls' situation grows more precarious.
Word Count: 1,887
TW: incest incest incest, profanity, innuendo, death/gore (Ned's death), Joffrey being a cunt
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire characters nor do I claim to own them.
Tag List (comment if you wish to be added/removed) bold means it did not allow me to tag you: @tinykryptonitewerewolf @dreaming-for-an-escape @ietss @bitchyglitterfox @caramelcandescence @mikariell95 @aaliyahjovel @aloneatpeace @mawofmeraxes @judereno1 @hwaillight @hedahobbit98 @smileykiddie08 @let-love-bleeds-red @marlene-the-witch @lea510 @poppyreader @hopelesswritergall @ad-astra-again @its-halleys-comet @not-a-glad-gladiator @disco--fairy @hwaillight @dark-night-sky-99 @cumslutforaemond @nyaaaaa008 
When the eldest Stark daughter awakens, she is delighted to see she has received two ravens, from her youngest brothers. She quickly opens them and reads them, one after the other.
Dear Y/N,
Hello. I miss you. Love you. Goodbye.
Love,
Rickon
She bursts into giggles, holding the letter to her chest and setting it aside. She misses Rickon dearly, and so decides she will hold his precious letter near her always. Her beloved youngest brother hates to write, so she wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the last letter she gets from him..
Dear Y/N,
Hello! It’s me. Your favorite brother. I write to you to tell you that my health is improved. Robb says you worry about me. You shouldn’t.
I have a new friend. Her name is Osha. She’s a wildling who is now in our service. She tells me tales from beyond the Wall. Did you know that the wildlings think of us Northerners as Southron because we are on the other side of the wall? I found that interesting!
I miss you and hope you come home soon.
Love always,
Bran
She writes back to them, detailing her time in King’s Landing, saying how much she misses them and how she hopes that she may return home soon.
The day King Robert dies is the day Y/N knows things are about to change, and not for the better. She knows her father confronted Queen Cersei about something a few days past, though he did not tell her what it was. He seems nervous, with each pace on his injured leg. She wishes he’d simply tell her what is happening, but he refuses.
Y/N realizes something is amiss when Arya does not return after her dancing lessons one morning. When her father does not return to the safety of their tower. She does not tell Sansa her suspicions, but she fears something horrible has befallen their father and perh. Something that is going to change the course of their lives forever.
Then, she and Sansa are summoned by the queen, told that Lord Stark attempted to usurp the throne from her betrothed. Sansa is in a panic, while Y/N takes her sister’s hand to soothe her, asking the queen what exactly happened. She is met with vague explanations and blatant lies. And when she asks to see her father, it is suggested that she and her sister are traitors as well.
“If we could merely see our father, my queen, just for a moment to try and understand what happened, perhaps this may be resolved without any further ugliness,” Y/N suggests.
“You disappoint me, child,” Cersei states coldly, “We have told you of your father’s treason. Why would you want to speak to a traitor?”
Before Y/N can reply, Sansa asks, her voice shaking with fear, “What will happen to him?”
“That depends on your brother, little dove.”
The queen demands that the eldest Stark daughter write to her beloved Robb, telling him to come to King’s Landing and pledge fealty to her betrothed. She sees the gold cloaks, she knows it is her duty to do this in order to protect Sansa. She only hopes Robb finds her real message hidden inside her raven.
Dearest rObb,
our lord father has betrayed the crowN. you musT COME To king’s landing at once to pledge youR feAlty to my betrothed. i hoPe to see you soon. sAnsa is heRe with me in the safetY of the cAstle. i wish you GOod weather iN your travEls.
love,
y/n
As Robb and Theon read the letter, frowning at Y/N’s words, the two look at each other.
“She has excellent penmanship, she wouldn’t write like this,” Robb comments, “And so awkwardly written…”
“It doesn’t sound like her at all,” Theon agrees, examining the letter.
“This looks like a child writing. Has she been hurt? I swear to the Old Gods and the New that if they’ve done anything to my sister-“
“Look at the capital letters,” Theon says, “Don’t come. Trap. Arya gone.”
Robb lets out a laugh, “My clever, clever little wolf.”
And in that moment, the King in the North is born.
The eldest Stark sisters remain prisoners of the Lannisters in all but name. Their communications are watched, but Lord Varys takes pity on the girls, sneaking them the raven that Robb sent for his sister and sending one out for her in return.
My darling sister,
If the news has not reached you, I suppose I shall tell you myself - I have seceded from your betrothed's kingdom. Our bannermen have named me the King in the North.
Bran is now acting as Lord of Winterfell. I’m sure he could use your wise counsel. As could I in these trying times.
Will you be my queen, my dearest?
All my heart,
Robb
Dearest love,
I long for the day that you are king of all of Westeros, my love. They shall call you Robb the Great and singers and bards will tell tales of your unwavering honor and courage. I will swear my allegiance to you and bend the knee only for you. My young wolf. My King in the North.
Yours forevermore,
Y/N
Y/N’s mind travels back home, to Winterfell. Sansa rests her head in her elder sister’s lap, holding back tears, feeling guilt that her last words spoken freely to her father were in anger. With Lord Eddard imprisoned, all the girls have to hold on to is each other. Looking back, the two might even say that this was the moment that truly cemented the bond of their sisterhood.
The sisters make one final plea before the newly crowned king.
“You are a just and kind king,” Y/N says, using her most demure voice to speak to her betrothed as Sansa stands beside her, “And my father knows,” she struggles with her next words, “That I love you very dearly. Father had been injured, he was taking Milk of the Poppy.”
“He must have just been in pain,” Sansa pleads alongside her sister, “Your father was his dearest friend.”
“If you hold any affection in your heart for me, as my future husband,” Y/N looks at Joffrey with her most earnest expression, dropping to her knees, pulling Sansa with her, “My lord, my love, I beseech you on my knees. I am from a proud house but I am not too proud to beg for mercy for my father. Mercy, my lord. I beg you.”
Joffrey is silent for a moment before stepping toward Y/N, extending his hand to help her to her feet, “Your sweet words have moved me, my lady,” he coos in a voice Y/N feels to be quite insincere, “But your father has to confess. He has to confess and say that I’m the king.”
“He will,” Sansa nods fervently.
Y/N feels a bit less sure. If her father denied Joffrey’s birthright, there must have been a reason.
A few days pass and the girls are still not permitted to see their father. They see him next when he is being dragged to the Sept of Baelor. For his execution.
Y/N and Sansa watch in horror as their father is dragged forward, the crowds jeering at his presence. Their honorable father, being called a traitor and a coward when he is the farthest thing from, and their jaws drop as he opens his mouth to speak. They both know what he says is a lie and realize he is doing this for them, to try to save them.
The crowd quiets to hear the former Hand of the King speak, “I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King. I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of gods and men,” he pauses before continuing, “I betrayed the faith of my king, and the trust of my friend, Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children. But before his blood was cold, I plotted to murder his son and seize the throne for myself.”
The girls’ eyes widen. This is simply not true and they know it. The crowd continues to jeer and clamor at the once proud Lord Stark’s expense, happy to see the mighty Warden of the North brought to his knees.
“Let the High Septon and Baelor the Blessed bear witness to what I have to say. Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”
The crowd continues their mockery and wait with bated breath for Joffrey to speak, to come to a decision on what is to be done with Lord Stark.
“My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Night’s Watch,” Joffrey states after some time, Stripped of all titles and powers. He would serve the realm in permanent exile,” he then turns to look at his betrothed, “My future queen and my future good sister have begged for mercy for their father.”
And for a brief moment, the girls’ hearts fill with hope. Hope that the young king will spare their father.
Hope which is quickly crushed.
“But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am king, treason shall never go unpunished,” his voice is a painful shriek in their ears as he calls out, “Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!”
“No,” the girls cry out in horror, even Cersei pleading with her son to see reason.
Then, as Y/N glances away for but a moment, she sees Arya. Their eyes meet for but a moment.
"Arya," Y/N gasps, drawing Sansa's attention, who covers her mouth, "Gods, please don't let her see this."
Sansa buries her tearful face in her sister's shoulder. Y/N wraps her arms around her sister. Thankfully, Arya is dragged away by Yoren of the Night's Watch before she can see what is to become of their father. Y/N sighs in relief and her eyes meet her lord father's. They share a final look of love. And then, Ser Ilyn Payne brings the sword down. Sansa faints. Y/N sheds a tears and steels herself. She is Sansa's protector now. She has to be strong.
My dearest love,
I write you now to inform you of our lord father's death. He was beheaded by Ser Ilyn Payne. I swear to you that I will kill him and avenge our father. By the seven, by the old gods, by whatever powers there be, I swear I will kill him.
Arya is alive. I know that now. She did not witness our father’s execution, thank the gods. For that I will always be grateful. I do not know where she is now, I only pray that she is safe.
Sansa keeps to herself now, her childhood dreams of becoming princess crushed. She lives in fear everyday that it will be the day I am separated from her. I swore to Father that I'd protect our sister and I shan't fail her. How is Bran? And our lady mother? Rickon? Theon? I long for the cold familiar air of Winterfell everyday. And your loving embrace.
Love,
Y/N
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afreakingdork · 12 days
Text
Weak Spot - Chapter 60
RotTMNT Donatello x Reader
Tumblr media
This week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake lights up the night
Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay
Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?
STOP! BEFORE YOU READ:
If you can stomach excessive violence, please remember that this chapter technically falls chronologically after the Sore Spot one-shot. However, it is not required reading and you will not miss out if you could not read it for whatever reason.
Fem!Reader References/Warnings Below Cut
Also available on Ao3
First 💜 Previous
Fem!Reader References/Warnings: Hospital, egregious injury, coma, intubation, needles, IV, coma, drugs, bleeding, broke bones, medical descriptions, medical tests, guns, gunshots, ect
“You’re late.”
“Sir.”
“47 minutes this time.”
Heavy sigh.
“27 the last and an hour and a half prior to that. You have two assigned patients total, one of which is no longer in critical condition and yet, here you are, late for the last round of your shift.”
“If you think-!”
“133 Pitt St, Apartment 3B, New York, NY 10002.”
Sharp inhale.
“Contain your personal life. You shouldn’t have moved in with your boyfriend so fast. Of course, he’s cheating on you. If your sloppy time management skills are any indication, you were never meant to be a suitable partner.”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!!! I’M THROWING YOU OUT! I DON’T CARE THAT-!”
“Again!?”
“NO! NO MORE! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU SAY! I REFUSE TO-!”
“Please, ma’am! I’m begging you! I know! I know what he’s like and he’s a million percent at fault, but if you could-!”
“He just said my home address.”
“Eugh boy…”
“He’s cruel. He’s mean! He never stops! He’s-”
“Ma’am…”
“No! Don’t you ma’am me again! Do you know how many nurses have refused to serve this room! You are down to less than a handful and mark that down as one less because there’s no way in hell I’m coming back here. I’m filing a fucking police report. I’ve had enough of this shit. He threatens us. He lies. He antagonizes. He hovers! He’s a stalker! He’s a bastard! He should have been kicked out the moment he pulled that stunt in intake! I bet he was the one who did this to-!”
Slam.
“H-He-!”
“Donatello!”
Slam.
“Get out of my way, Leonardo.”
“Do you want to be cut off!? That’s what you’re fucking doing! We’ve been busting our fucking butts to keep you in here, but that’s enough!! Don’t you get it?! Do you want to be here when Y/N wakes up or do you want to be miserable and alone!?”
Snivel.
“She… insinuated… that I…”
“I know.”
Rustle.
“I know.”
“I didn’t…”
“I know…”
Sigh.
“I’m taking charge.”
Sharp inhale.
“That’s the only way this is going to work. You threatened her, idiot. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?”
Hmph.
“Ma’am…”
“You think I was gonna be moved by that?”
“Look, I get it. This is… There isn’t a way to explain this. All I can promise you is that if you can… find it in your heart to let this incident slide, there won’t be another.”
“I’m taking full blame, full responsibility. If he acts out of turn again, he’s banned. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Please.”
Heavy sigh.
Clink.
“You saved… my sister two years ago from a monster… er-“
“Monster. I’m not sure it was a mutant.”
“Right.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s… I’m only doing this because of that. Not for him. Fuck him. Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Fuck you.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
Squeak.
Squeak.
Squeak.
-
“And one cup of absolutely burnt coffee for the-!”
“I knew it!!!”
Clatter.
“Donatello!”
“Don’t.”
“I knew you were hiding something, but this-!”
“Get back.”
“What did you inject yourself with!?”
“That doesn’t concern you.”
“The hell it does! You think you can-!?”
“Don’t you dare touch me.”
“I didn’t mean-!”
“You know why, now leave it.”
Bang.
“I heard yelling! What’s going on? Donatello!”
“It’s alright, Lee.”
“Don’t you pull that shit! What happened!?”
“It’s fine.”
“Knock it off! No, it’s not! You’re going to let him talk to you like that?! What was that?! I was gone for five seconds!”
“Leo.”
“Don’t ‘Leo’ me, Mikey! Everything that happens is on me. Don’t you get that? You need to tell me what just happened!”
“Well!?”
“I got too friendly, Leo. Nothing else. I swear it.”
 “Damnit…”
-
“It’s been 2 weeks.”
“Donatello.”
“Say something.”
“I keep time. Down to the second.”
“Then you’ll know that you haven’t slept. Not once.”
“Donatello.”
“I fatigue of hearing my name come from your mouths.”
Heavy sigh.
Creak.
Squeak.
Wane.
“I… I know what this is like.”
“I know you know why I know.”
“It’s not going to get easier.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this.”
“You presume too much.”
“Donatello!”
“What? Why do you insist on pleading your case? Why do any of you? You think of yourselves so highly. You are wretches. You are sheep parading yourselves as saviors. You flock if only because you are too feeble to attempt anything alone! You think I need you? I never have! I never will! You have hitched yourselves to a technicality at best! That I let you live and occupy the same vicinity as Y/N is happenstance at best! Yet you press! You always press. Always. You never stop! You never have!!! You will plague me for my lifetime and I will never be rid of you so, please, pray tell, Raphael, what wisdom on this dimension or any other could you possibly think to disturb me with this time!?!”
“Ya done?”
“I should have-!”
Scrape.
Crash.
“You need to eat and drink. Actual food. Actual water. Y/N will need you when they wake up. All I was gonna say. I’m taking my turn outside. Try considering that we might care about something other than you once in a while.”
Step.
Step.
Step.
Click
-
Fuzz.
Someone left an ancient video set on.
It was plugged in for the sake of it.
Or it was being checked.
To see if it was still operational.
Something was beeping.
Not overly loud, but enough that it made a thrum in the room.
It smelled clinical.
Dry, but with a must of synthetic polish, it spoke of industrially cleaned linens and hospital corridors.
There was an actual hum.
The kind that came from fluorescents when they painted everyone a sickly hue.
Something was in your mouth.
A twitch found a tube in your nose.
You were cold.
Every breath came with an ache and numbness.
It all channeled down your throat. 
You were layered up with blankets.
Three parts of you were free as far as you could tell.
Your left arm.
Stiff, folded, and holding emphasis.
Your head.
Lying on a papery substance concealing more than one pillow.
Your right hand.
Only emerged enough for something stuck to the back of it and large digits cupped between your loose fingers.
Two digits.
Two long, thick fingers.
You squeezed with as much force as you could manage.
You heard a little grunt.
You shifted to dig your nails.
“Woah there.”
Not Donnie.
That wasn’t Donnie.
It wasn’t Donnie.
You made a weary noise and tossed lightly against your pillow in dismay.
The thing in your mouth shifted.
You choked.
“Shh. You’re okay. Breathing tube. I know, I know. I also know I’m not the one you want, but I can get him. Can you hang tight for me, kay?”
The fingers returned the hold.
Eyes.
You wanted your vision.
You cracked a lid and winced it back shut at the light.
“You’re in the hospital. I’ve got you.” Another hand came to touch your leg in a neutral, but reassuring way. “You with me?”
Knowing there was too much white, you opened your eyes slower this time and glimpsed Leo leaning over you.
“Hey, Y/N.”
You croaked.
“That’s all the confirmation I need.” He gave your hand a final squeeze before walking to the end of your bed. “Any more false starts and he’d lose it. The roving eye thing has been a nightmare.” 
Gaze adjusting by the second, you watched him slice open a portal and Donnie clamber through with a rush of sound. “You had seven more minutes before you were meant toI-! Does that mean-!?”
Leo stepped out of the way and held out an arm. 
Donnie rounded his head and was at your side before you could blink.
Function was difficult.
He cradled your hand close and you saw the wire attached to it.
Tracing it drearily, you found several bags sitting above you dripping liquid directly into your veins.
Coming back down, Donnie had tears in his eyes and a watercolor smile on his lips. “Y/N.”
You creaked, rusty on your intubation.
“Yes! We’ll get that right out if possible! Of course!” He brought his beak down and kissed the tips of your fingers. “Procedure says you should first explain whereabouts as a patient may be confused.” Donnie gave a sharp nod. “Y/N. There has been a travesty. We were in the Hidden City when we were ambushed. We-I-No-We were drugged… and you… you were…” Tears threatened to fall and he choked with a swollen throat.
You squinted at him.
None of that made sense.
You didn’t remember anything like that.
You remembered.
You remembered.
You remembered a beach.
You remembered a love potion.
You remembered rolling in the sheets with your mate.
You remembered.
You made a fearful noise and pulled at your body.
None of it came as it should.
Your arm wasn’t just folded, it was taped down to your chest.
In fact, most of your body was constricted.
The pull clanged along muscle groups and you felt a pulse trained inwards on your abdomen.
Shooting sparks of pain straight into your gut, you gave a soft pained cry and tried to kick.
Only one leg responded.
The other was lead and weighed down.
You were choking.
“Y/N, w-wait! P-please!” Donnie refused to touch any more of you.
“Donatello.” Leo appeared just behind him.
“Don’t. It won’t. Not now.” Donnie went to snap at the blue turtle.
Leo stared back, stoic. 
“Don’t…” Donnie managed, gaze falling.
“Y/N.” Leo took to the other side of the bed and reached in to adjust a strap of bandage on your shoulder. “Listen. You’re at the Mount Sinai on Madison. You were in emergency, then the ICU, then you got assigned a room. Saying you were banged up is an understatement. You almost died. You might have, if we hadn’t…”
Relegating to pupil movement, you first stared at Leo, then checked with Donnie.
Your boyfriend gave a sharp nod where he’d taken Leo’s seat at your side and your hand.
You rasped.
“They had to medically induce a coma so we could figure out what substance you were injected with. You were considered an overdose patient until then. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. cracked it and passed the info along so they could treat you. Then you… didn’t wake up. They considered it a regular coma after that. You were stabbed in your shoulder, miracle it missed any of the three arteries there. You’ll have a hell of a time with physical therapy for the muscle though. Your left femur is broken, but that… We’ll get into that later. You were cut along the ribs and stabbed in the right upper torso, into the liver. You were in surgery for hours. Internal bleeding… concussion… broken bones, you name it.”
You made a flighty grunt.
Donnie squeezed you.
You sent him a weak flick of your eye.
Leo sighed softly. “Button time?”
“I hit it a moment ago.” Donnie answered, not looking away from you.
Leo nodded and put his hands on his hips. “Ready, Y/N?”
Leo. 
Donnie. 
Together in the same room. 
It only occurred to you now that there was an issue with that. 
There was so much happening. 
All of it was wrong. 
You shifted your pupil between the two and translated what you hoped was a question.
“I’m assuming you’re wondering about this?” Leo pointed between him and Donnie. “Another explanation for later because you’re going to want to sleep after what’s about to happen… I sure as hell did.”
He walked to a corner and you wanted to know what he meant, but a nurse walked in. “Oh…! How are you feeling!?”
What followed was torturous. Over and over your sanity was questioned and examined as they checked your faculties. Tests were done in abundance and you were poked and prodded by what you assumed was every metal device known to man. A legion of doctors, nurses, and contracted medical personnel filed through to tell you similar and yet all new information about your wounds. Tubes were inserted, removed, and shifted around in what you could only imagine was a cruel cosmic game of hokey pokey. You picked up little details where you could under the barrage. There had been something about mysticism, both bad and good. You’d healed nicely. You had more healing to do.
It had been three total weeks since the attack.
You held onto that lost time with an iron claw until you were forced upright. Both for physical examination and because a wheelchair arrived for some test that couldn’t be done in this room, you saw Donnie keep a wounded strength up and Leo keep his distance. Both men had been similarly cycled, in and out of your vicinity, for the sake of decorum. You alternatively had none as you were carted around for more scans where doctors both talked to and around you. By the time you were uncomfortably back in bed and finally left alone, you could barely keep your eyes open.
“Sleep.” Donnie kissed your temple.
“Donnie…” You fought your lids.
You hadn’t gotten to talk to him at all. 
His name was probably the first thing you’d said to him. 
You wanted to say so much more. 
How could you be tired?
You’d been asleep for nearly a month.
Donnie hushed your mind and a glimpse of him was the last thing you saw.
-
You woke up sometime in the night to a nurse fiddling with your IV.
“I have to get used to seeing you.” She teased lightly, checking the cord and coming away with a syringe.
You grunted out a sound.
“Don’t mind me.” She told you before giving your good leg a pat and disappearing around the bed. “Just something to ease the pain.” 
You stared after her shape and caught a dull hue of Leo on the far side of the room.
Squinting, you found him watching after the nurse before he turned with a tired expression.
Following his gaze led to Donnie who was waiting with a patient expression.
“Hey.” You told him still groggy.
“Hi…” He pet your arm. “No need to get up.”
“No… I… I’m… can I…?” You stirred, trying to remember if sitting up was a chore.
“What do you need? Feel free to sign an approximate.” Donnie watched on with tepid affection.
In the corner of your eye you saw Leo turn his head in a way to give you privacy. You eyed him openly before returning to Donnie. Your first real look at him, you saw how the last few weeks had taken their toll. An odd midpoint in comparison to your last separation where he’d headed to the Hidden City alone, he looked a little on the mend. Eyes sallow, but skin perked with some vestige of hydration, he mostly looked exhausted.
“Water…” You decided, your throat dry and still cracked from the tube.
“You might have trouble swallowing, go slow.” He retrieved a pitcher and cup from a side table before filling it carefully to offer it with a straw.
Knowing he would hold it, you wrangled the lead with your lips and sucked in the life giving liquid.
He lowered it when you’d had enough.
“Sore…” You mumbled, leaning back and feeling the cool drink travel downward in your body.
Donnie nodded.
You took your time reaching up to cup his cheek with a spin of your wrist to coax him in. “Not clean. Sorry.”
“I’ve done my best.” Donnie whispered, coming in only enough to barely rest his forehead against the side of your head.
“Why-?” A cough caught you and each wheeze thudded through your wounds.
Donnie disappeared to monitor you closely.
Hand falling away, you winced against the aggravating loose, but tight nature of your esophagus.
You heaved a sigh as you caught your breath with the ragged little pinpricks that still held on.
Taking additional time to simply breathe, you eventually calmed enough to look out at Leo. “Explain this.”
Leo perked up in the moonlight seeping through a window and approached.
“Now?” Donnie asked without pressure.
You gave a single nod.
“Consider it a bedtime story.” Leo refused an actual smile, but there was a jovial edge to his tone as he came around to the opposite side of the bed. “We make it boring enough and we can put Y/N right to sleep.”
Donnie barely rolled his eyes.
“What got you here or this situation?” Leo asked with minor disdain, ignoring Donnie while also referencing him.
“Both… from the… beginning?”
Leo gave a knowing nod. “When I got the call, you were…”
Donnie bristled and had to hold himself.
“Bad.” Leo decided with a tight eye over your boyfriend. “It was bad.”
Donnie closed his eyes.
You reached for him.
He caught your hand and held it delicately to save the IV.
“We were together so we moved together.” Leo went on.
“Toget…?” You struggled on the syllables.
“Me, Mikey, and Raph.” Leo confirmed.
You bobbed slightly.
“Skipping over our entrance onto the scene, Mikey sort of…” Leo juggled his phrasing.
Donnie was up and away from you.
You stared after him and noticed he’d taken the time to set your hand down before fleeing.
“Mike’s got all sorts of mystic mojo.” Leo tried anew. “I knew you were going straight to surgery and Mikey sort of… snuck into prep.”
“Wha…?” Your lips parted dry and you wished Donnie would come back with the water.
“I wasn’t there, to be clear, I’m going off what Mike told me, but basically he zapped you with magic before the staff caught him.”
“I don’t…” You wanted to shake your head, but you settled for a failed swallow.
“In addition to flying, Mikey can kinda sort of teleport like me, but it’s different… he can…” Leo struggled.
“Leonardo trained with an artifact to hone tears through space. Michangelo can rip through space and time with his bare hands.” Donnie spoke, his back half turned to you. “To his detriment. You’ve seen his scarring.”
Leo seemed unperturbed by this knowledge. “He’s banned from it, but I can’t control him in an emergency or last resort sort of thing. It’s… a whole thing, but he can manage very short distances without it… without…”
“Leo…” You murmured, sensing there was something painful there.
Leo took your acknowledgement as a cue he could skip over details. “He took one look at a hospital map, teleported into the OR, dumped as much mystic healing into you as he could, teleported out when he was found, and then promptly passed out for an entire week.” 
You heard Donnie inhale to speak and both you and Leo waited for him to, but he didn’t.
Something was off here.
You felt like you hadn’t woken up.
Pangs said otherwise, but you still wanted to pinch yourself.
Leo and Donnie were being as civil as you’d ever seen them and only a few weeks didn’t seem like enough time for that.
Something else was happening, but you were struggling to keep up as it was.
“What… did he…?” You hoped that was enough.
Leo lightly touched a blanket crease on the edge of your bed. “He mostly reassembled bone fragments. From what I understand, flesh, with all its blood vessels and such is a harder patch, but he did get some in. Mostly that gash along your ribs. Overall, it’s more of a general spell. If it had been me-” Leo’s teeth caught the light.
“You…?”
“Medic training.” Leo held the first bitter edge you’d seen to him. “I’m a trained medic.” 
Donnie rotated further away.
Why were you losing him?
“Mikey took you from a femoral break to a fracture.” Leo kept a sharp gaze. “Your bone was shattered.”
“Oh…” You gazed down at your body.
“T-tricky with the casting.” Leo stepped up to point and shift the topic. “It’s called a spica. A groovy kind of asymmetrical bottoms, half shorts, half pants, which you have, but they should have cast it up your whole torso, only they couldn’t because of the… stab wounds…” He drifted, his acrid edge returning.
“What’s… going… on?” You got out, the many odd signs too much for you.
“I’m sure you don’t want some medical textbook info on the arteries… But I think I can simplify it-”
“Leo.” You pressed down on his name.
Donnie was nearly curled into the wall.
“Donnie.”
Your partner's head barely rotated at the sound of your voice.
“What… happened?” You wheezed. 
You’d asked Leo to start from the top. 
Instead, he’d skipped around. 
Now there was an ever changing air as if something enormous was being avoided. 
You had to know. “Tell me.” 
Leo tugged your sheet until it was smooth. “Intake.”
The word oppressive, you felt the other two suffer under it where it held no connotation to you. “What… about it?”
“You still don’t remember what happened during the attack?” Leo asked, edging closer to you with an odd timber.
You shook your head slowly.
“A… Hidden City police officer… abducted you both.” Leo began, a clear wary of Donnie even though he didn’t look. “The guy disobeyed the temporary pardon. We know next to nothing about his goal.”
Your hand flexed and you felt the bite of your IV needle.
“Without you, there’s no account of what happened. The perp left no evidence of planning or anything so we have to assume it was spontaneous, but… we don’t know. We won’t know. Donatello regained consciousness right before the guy tried to…”
Your gaze flew to Donnie where he’d wedged in a corner.
He didn’t know what happened?
No one did.
Was he guilty?
You wished you could go to him.
Leo gave a shaky exhale. “I can only say what I saw for sure.”
You were slow to trek back to Leo.
“Donatello called me and… asked-”
“Begged.” Donnie spoke venom. “Say it.”
Leo’s eyes flashed a warning that Donnie didn’t catch. “I guess he… beggedfor my help. I portaled over and saw you… you were… you…”
Soothe them. 
You wanted to hold Donnie. 
You wanted to pat Leo. 
If your arm closest to him wasn’t bandaged down you might have managed the latter. 
Leo seemed to notice your intention and gave a tired smile of his own.
This was the closest he’d been to you yet. 
His eyes looked like Donnie’s.
“I scooped you up with the others trailing behind and portaled us straight to triage.” Leo cut through the silence. “I had to leave you bleeding out on the nurse’s station because…”
“Y/N.” Donnie spoke around shattered glass.
“You won’t tell it.” Leo ground out just shy of a bark.
“I should…” Donnie tried to turn, but there was an odd glint to his eye.
“Donatello…” Leo had that warning to him again.
“I can talk about it!” Donnie’s voice held a rising bile. “I am not some child!”
“Donatello!” Leo took a few steps over.
“I lost control!” Donnie turned to plead his case with you.
Trapped in your bed, you felt strapped down.
You couldn’t help.
You were helpless.
“I didn’t see the yokai, you know.” Donnie crept forward slowly. “Your-our-your attacker.”
He looked a vision similar to a sleep paralysis demon.
Your heart clutched and it reflected in the ever constant beep of the heart monitor.
Leo neared the edge of the bed, his body readying.
Donnie saw nor heard neither. “I saw a knife. I saw you. I saw you speak your last words to me. Then I saw purple.”
Leo’s arms went up.
“They were trying…. They tried… They-!!!” In a single blink, Donnie’s eyes lit up a bright fuchsia. “They weren’t going to touch you.”
“Stop!” Leo’s eyes spun a blue similar to his portals.
Dancing lights filled the room.
For every flash of purple there was an equal blue swallowing it up.
It cast horrifying shadows across Donnie’s face. “I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop the bleeding. I couldn’t-!”
Leo caught Donnie’s shoulders in a swift move.
You flinched away as the dueling lights picked up to a blinding luminance.
There was a sharp choke.
You forced your lids up to see the glow gone and Leo’s leg lifted where he’d kneed Donnie straight through his plastron and into his stomach.
Donnie hunched with drool dripping from his mouth and had just caught himself from vomiting at the force.
Leo let go just as fast and held up innocent hands as he backed away. “Well? How’d that work out for you?!”
Donnie winced, clutching himself for a moment before he raised his own hand as a signal.
“What… was that…?” You looked at them both, feeling a ghost amongst them.
“Donatello unlocked his ninpo.” Leo turned to you looking haggard.
Now a moment away from tears, Donnie scrambled to his side of your bed on his knees. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t-!”
Your hand immediately went to his cheek and though your body raged and you were only allowed a few inches, you turned toward him as much as you could.
“Don’t do that…” He scolded and your action alone was enough to ground him minutely.
You shushed him with affection and pet down his jaw.
It took two strokes before he went a calculated limp against you.
“Has this…?” You swallowed hard and the cup appeared in front of you.
Hating how much maintenance you needed, you took a quick sip before shaking your head to force the swallow down.
“This has been… happening the whole time… since I got…?”
“Put in the hospital.” Leo nodded and staggered a few steps before he caught the bottom of your bed.
“What… power? Why… now?”
Leo rubbed an eye and mocked. “What power?” He clicked his tongue. “We… as in my family, believed it was only possible for clan members. You unlock your ninpo through acceptance. You have to have faith or trust or believe in the Hamato clan, in us, in family, and poof! It’s the only way you should be able to…” A form of irritation brought Leo upright. “Mikey and I unlocked ours to save Raph. It should be for family. Our family. That fierce protection. That-”
“He unlocked it…” You looked at Donnie.
He was curled into your palm with his eyes screwed shut, looking especially young.
“…saving me?”
Leo clicked his tongue.
Donnie gave a nod that was more of a nuzzle.
“It was wrong.” Leo spoke sharply.
A purple gun appeared in his face long enough for you to watch it cock before Leo realized and a tiny blue portal swallowed it up.
“Enough already! We just did that! You already flipped out so chill!” Leo growled, his eyes still entrenched in a glow.
“Don’t you tell me that saving them was a mistake in any way.” Donnie pulled from you to bare his fangs.
Several cycles of purple and blue cascaded a waterfall around Leo’s features. It painted him haunted before his face broke into true dismay. “I would never.”
The flickering stopped and you didn’t dare look at Donnie.
“How you activated it…” Leo shook his head trying to bury the raw emotion. “Your faith is misplaced. You get granted Hamato rights because you’re a Hamato. Because you believe in one another and how we’re stronger together… You are supposed to believe that you are a part of something larger and that they have you, everything about you. Every single bit. They will do anything for you! You don’t…! You don’t believe any of that!” His eyes rose with tears caught by the pale lights in the room. “That’s why you’re wrong. You tore into a power you shouldn’t have. That’s why you don’t have control. It will never be okay. It will never be yours! It shouldn’t.”
Donnie finally turned inward toward you and there were broken flickers of purple in his gaze like a match trying to light.
You had very little movement, but used what you could to grab his mask and tug.
He came limp and loose into your good shoulder and wilted there, shutting off the light.
Leo grunted about his weakness and did a small pace to recompose himself.
“Leo…” You murmured, petting Donnie with a heavy weight that he accepted.
“Yeah…?” He rounded the edge of the bed.
“That was… What Donnie made was…?”
“Weaponry.” Leo spat. “His power manifested in the same shit he started with. Destruction as always.”
There was a humming vibration of a phone.
Donnie flinched into you.
Leo pulled his device out.
“What’s wrong?” You whispered to Donnie, knowing you couldn’t go low enough to not reach Leo’s tympanum.
“The others…” Donnie rooted closer to you. “… they’ll come now.”
“Why?” You wished you could hold him.
“The flare of ninpo.” Leo answered, tacking something out. “They’re worried. I’ll tell ‘em it’s okay for now. You… I’ll give you this.”
Donnie couldn’t thank him, but he chuffed a sound of acknowledgement.
That seemed enough for Leo.
You felt a depth of what they’d been through without you. 
It was huge and weighty and both of them were overtaxed by it. 
All because of you. 
“Raph said you each had… specialties or something…” You murmured.
Leo stared dully at the blue light from his phone illuminating his face. “Donatello has built guns a million times over. Now he can assemble them without anything, but his mind. Makes sense. A stupid fucked up sense.”
You read the faintest emotion of him.
Fear.
“Leo-”
“I don’t agree, but Mikey has a different theory.” Leo pocketed his phone and his angle entrenched him in darkness. “He doesn’t see a problem with the unlocking because it was done to protect. He thinks the malfunction is tied to Donatello holding back. Something about him not being able to embrace the power because he’s forcing it away like everything else.”
Donnie exhaled revulsion.
“Agreed.” Leo puffed his own.
He did hold back.
You stroked down, tracing towards his concealed mating mark.
Did Donnie disagree because Mikey was on the right track?
He’d come a long way, but he still believed that the person he was with you wasn’t the authentic one.
He’d also said he could never live as himself.
That meant he’d never harness this power.
It loomed overhead, something even more dangerous than his enemies.
“It does… seem connected to your anger.”
You felt both men look at you, but you only watched Donnie.
“From… the little I’ve seen…” You tried to sound sheepish.
Donnie leaned in to rest his beak against your cheek. “You’re correct.”
Leo broke away and walked toward the window.
“And you two have just been…?” You glanced between them. “Together… this whole time?”
The palpable disdain swept through the room.
For a long moment neither spoke.
Donnie seemed the more sturdy of the two for now, sighed to retreat lightly, and adjusted your covers. “Not at first.”
Leo scrubbed his face.
“The initial chain of events went as such: I was…” The moment weighed on Donnie and took his voice.
“Not again…” Leo turned, looking twice as exhausted.
“I can do it.” Donnie pressed, harsh. “Look away.”
Leo bristled with obvious concern.
All you could think was how strange it was.
In such a short amount of time they’d seemingly come so far.
The Leo you knew would have taken every opportunity to barb Donnie.
Your Donnie would never allow the amount of supposed weakness he was currently displaying.
“I can.” Donnie tried again, his voice more even.
Leo said nothing and turned to tuck his head against the wall.
Donnie was slow in taking your face.
A familiar cascade of affection, it coaxed a smile from you and he nosed you lightly before drinking you into a kiss.
“My breath…” You murmured against the chaste press.
“Brushed earlier once the tube was removed and you were up to it.” Donnie caught your lips again and you realized the light brushes were to keep any errant smacks at bay.
“I’ve slept…” You teased him with the lightest nosing though the reach with your neck disturbed the muscles in your shoulder.
“You will learn to lie still.” He spoke with light heat and stole what was an obvious final kiss with a heavier press.
You relented into the pillow and failed to catch a soft sigh.
“That day… After disposing of that miscreant, I was beside myself. You needed more immediate attention then I could possibly… I found your phone. I called… When Leo appeared… I… I passed you off. My inadequacies were…”
“Too much…” You found his hand near yours and squeezed it.
He nodded and nuzzled close. “I let him take you, not more than a step behind, but Michelangelo…”
You tilted your head the slightest amount.
“You were deemed an obvious emergency and taken immediately. That I stood for, but Michelangelo he only…” Donnie paused and took a deep settling breath. “He had been nearby, suddenly saying he could help. Then he disappeared. I… It was an unknown variable. Him alone with you. With his mysticism… I… He hurt you before…”
You studied his eyes closely.
He leaned in to give you a better view, illustrating his gaze was free from purple, before nudging you with his beak. “I was irate to say the least. The staff would not let me warn them. Everyone kept telling me to calm down and then…” He caught himself and with several false starts to give a heady exhale. “Raphael subdued me after I manifested an entire arsenal and nearly leveled the waiting room.”
Leo shook his head against the wall, but you read it less as a disagreement and more of distress at the memory.
“His projections aren’t sturdy enough to dispel mine however. He temporarily knocked me out as the drug was still in my system.” Donnie continued. “When I woke, moments later, I was propped in the waiting room, informed Michelangelo had been returned to the sewer, Raphael was having a few superficial bullet wounds treated, and Leonardo was sat beside me.”
Leo flittered with a faint movement that you found to be his fist nervously tapping near his hip.
“For a while…” Donnie wrangled himself in and pulled away minutely to check your IV. “We sat as such for several hours until Leonardo spoke in regards to our predicament. A repeat of my display would put you at risk. The blue bast-ahem-Leonardo was meant to only be utilized as emergency transport. It was a temporary necessity. However… I was forced to acknowledge there was now more at play.”
Leo’s head tipped up and he looked toward a darkened ceiling corner.
“The staff had no choice but to accept my staying by your side once I was able.” Donnie had a faint smirk to him. “In situations such as those, I am unbothered. What power do they have? Police?” His teeth gleamed around a laugh, but he subdued it. “It was… your ongoing treatment that proved difficult. Not up to my standards. We’d failed to get S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. inside. You required the facilities and providers available here, but…”
Your lips parted and Donnie offered more water for you to sip.
“My threats along with my volatile ninpo made a dangerous combination. Not that they could have kept me away, but I was threatened with several premise bans.”  
He let the cup sit comfortably against your side.
“You see, upon our arrival here, each of us displayed our powers meaning the uninitiated were confused. Sure, there is an irritatingly obvious color coding, but what was less evident was the effects. Raphael had smothered my attack so only sick, delusional waiting room patients saw a hallucination at best. No one of importance saw what my ninpo created. This was for the best, but to keep it that way, as the lethality of my manifestations happens to be off putting to some-'' Donnie flicked a quick glance toward Leo in gesture. “-I had to be monitored…” His lip curled. “The others sat with me in rotation. I was unfortunately in need of their attendance in case my ninpo activated. The three traded off, but Leonardo’s ninpo is most suited to safely disarming mine.” 
Donnie came close enough that you could lean on him. 
“Waiting at your side gave me only time. Slowly, I achieved enough emotional control so as not to create weapons at the slightest provocation, but I am still me. I acted my usual and voiced my overall displeasure with your ongoing unconscious state. These… comments were not appreciated and compounded as I had worn my welcome. On supposed ‘thin ice,’ there was a particular incident where I slipped and allowed a nurse to see one of my manifestations. Thus a final deal was struck.”
Leo felt comfortable enough to turn and watch with a worn expression.
“Leonardo…” Donnie took on a strange expression that bordered appreciation. “… stepped in. He used his connections, status, and manipulation to garner you a better care rotation. In exchange, he was charged with being my full time handler. I was to defer to him in exchange and he put his entire public reputation on the line if only to keep me from actually being kicked out. If only… to allow us...” Donnie carefully cradled your hand. “... to stay together.” 
You were overwhelmed. 
Suddenly awash, your chest tightened lethally and you sent water works in Leo’s direction. 
The blue turtle startled at the emotion and gave a single sharp nod as if it was a normal duty as any other.
“Shh, don’t waste your limited energy on him. Again, not that it would have mattered. Nothing would have kept me from you.” There was a fragility to Donnie’s usual bravado.
You pinched his fingers to translate that you noticed.
He looked away with the faintest noise of frustration.
“That was a week ago.” Donnie murmured.
“Back up some.” You let go of him to point.
Donnie studied you before adjusting his stool with a rolling slide.
It put him more easily in your reach and you tugged his mask up from his beak.
He grunted, annoyed, but allowed it and you revealed the deeper dark bags barely concealed by it.
Trying to betray little, you delicately put Donnie’s mask back in place before gesturing for Leo to come over. “You next.” 
Leo walked to his spot on the opposite side where he yanked his mask up, unprompted, for you to see his equally swollen lids with an amused fluttering of his lashes.
“Him-” You threw a thumb back to Donnie as you spoke to Leo. “I expect to not sleep, but you?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I lost sleep over the jackass.” Leo smirked.
Donnie rolled his eyes.
“He’s up, I’m up.” Leo shrugged and used both hands to get his mask right. 
“I would never allow myself disarmed around you.” Donnie growled lightly. 
“And you see why neither of us have slept.” Leo’s hands fell away and he cracked you a manic expression like it were an ice cold drink. 
“Where was…?” The memory seemed so vague. “Donnie was portalled in… when I woke up.” 
“Ah.” Leo nodded, thoughtfully, before sending a smarmy look at Donnie. “Now where were you at, hm?” 
Donnie bristled. 
Leo pulled his expression slightly, but waited with a cocked ridge of his mask. 
Donnie let a canine peek as he turned an acidic expression to you. “I have… scheduled meal breaks.” 
Leo wiped a hand over the lower half of his face, no doubt covering a smile. 
“A bargain to make you eat…?” You looked over Donnie with knowing affection. 
For a split second you saw a swipe of guilt flash over your boyfriend’s face before he settled to a neutral expression. “My choice. An accepted one around. The only agreement was travel.” 
“My moment of freedom tainted!” Leo held up a dramatic hand. “Basically, the jam jackass will only go to the cafeteria if I portal him there.” Leo shook his head free of his hand to show his disdain. “Mike or Raph take it from there, but still.” 
“My retribution and instantaneous returns.” Donnie sent a lowered lidful of affection toward you. 
“I’m not a damn taxi.” Leo grumbled. 
You took them both in before you exaggerated a pout. 
You then sank deep into your pillow though it made your body ache.
Donnie switched to worry and touched your arm anxiously.
“Leo.”
Donnie twitched with faint annoyance over you ignoring him.
You held out your hand to soothe him.
“Hm?” Leo leaned back, folding his arms.
Donnie took your hand and sulked.
“I get your stupid banter comment now.”
For a beat nothing happened.
Then Leo popped a single snicker before he burst out laughing.
You clucked along with him until the bubbles of comedy clung and irritated your liver.
Donnie pressed your arm to urge you to stop.
You tossed him a smile.
Leo came away, wiping his eye. “Oh man, I’ve lost my mind… That was good. What a call back…!”
“I’m mad I didn’t see you two get close.” You pursed your lips. 
“We aren’t.”
“We aren’t.”
There was a certain amount of horror passed between them which Donnie dispelled with a puckered focus on his face.
“Knock it off, bozo!” Leo’s lip curled.
“What are you doing…?” You touched Donnie.
“Trying...” Donnie’s eyes narrowed, willing something with all his might. “… to shoot him between the eyes.”
“You can’t do it on purpose yet and hopefully ever.” Leo sneered.
“If you keep that up he will.” You stared at him dully.
“Pfft.” Leo blew a raspberry. “I’ll just do a little abracadabra and poof, it’s disappeared right before your eyes.” He did a flourish with his hands.
“Hypno would be insulted.” You tilted your head away from the poser.
“Hypno’s a hack!” Leo threw up a hand. “I’ve studied the greats!”
“Since when do you-?” You reared your head. “No… I’m… I’m too injured for this.”
Donnie puffed with a single bubble of laughter and then painted a stoic face as if nothing happened.
“We’re literally right here. This room is dead silent.” Leo shook his head.
“Donnie…” You chewed your lip.
Donnie turned his beak up.
“Seven straight days of this.” Leo threw a hand out to Donnie.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!” You tapped your sheet. “I missed it! Donnie, pull up the recordings!”
Donnie’s hackles went up.
Leo put extra shine on a snarky smile.
“You…” You looked between the pair before settling on Leo in awe. “How the hell did you get him to agree to not tape this?”
“You’re on the line. You’re literally the best bargaining chip anyone could ask for!” Leo turned a smile on you that was eerily similar to Donnie’s malevolent one.
They’d spent too much time together.
“Weak spot…” You whispered in spite of yourself.
“Come again?” Leo held up a hand to his tympanum.
“Nothing.” You crooned.
Leo cocked his brow through his mask.
“You have to fill me in on everything.” You demanded from both of them.
Leo opened his mouth with a retort, but a nurse appeared in the doorway with a tapping foot. “Ahem.”
“Maria! If it isn’t the most lovely night nurse this side of Queens!” Leo spun to her in a flourish and seemed to almost manifest sparkles.
She seemed largely unbothered, but you caught the slightest ghosting of pink to her cheeks from the fluorescence in the hall.
“Give ‘em a break. The lovebirds are making up for lost time…” Leo cooed.
She huffed loudly and renewed the fold of her arms. “They and everyone else in the corridor also need sleep.”
“Done.” Donnie spoke.
Leo polished his grin.
She glared openly at Donnie before sending Leo a pointed look. “I’ll check back in fifteen.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Leo gave a little amorous growl and you gagged to Donnie.
His lip wrinkled with a smile that he buried as soon as Leo walked back over.
“Think that’s a pretty good demonstration of how this arrangements been going.” Leo tossed a thumb back to where he’d come from and reverted to what you assumed was his neutral setting.
Donnie stood and fluffed your pillow.
You looked him over affectionately and felt that ever present exhaustion tug at you again.
It was there. 
It had been there. 
Speaking of it felt like a command and now it threatened to engulf you. 
You hated the helpless feeling of it all. 
“Just like that.” Leo hummed, cocky.
“Shut up.” You grumbled.
“Finally, someone else can tell him.” Donnie took his seat and assumed what must have been his usual waiting posture.
“Ugh, almost forgot you let him ruin your morality.” Leo made a big show of rolling his eyes.
You had more complaints, but your lids were heavy.
“Get some rest.” Leo blessedly dropped the complaint and took a seat in a far chair.
“We’ll get you home soon.” Donnie took your hand and pressed a careful kiss to it. You made a little sweet sound for him, but your vision of him skewed as you dozed off.
💜NEXT💜
Through every crazy little idea I have, my darling betas are right there with me and I could be more honored to know @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83
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the-wolf-moon-diaries · 6 months
Text
The Gentle Pull of Gravity // Chapter Sixteen: Hunted.
A/N: Can we just talk about how real Jane was for this? She doesn’t actually know Y/N all too well but still lied to a crazy woman in order to protect her, Jane’s awesome. I’ve thought a little about her and I think she’s putting herself through college in order to get either a nursing or teaching degree...her fiancee is a park ranger, she loves flowers and old movies, and has a cat named Audrey (for Audrey Hepburn).
Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader (female).
Taglist: @yourwonkywriter @some-daniela @queereddie @notperfect-justme @shinah-satoru @deliciousblackfatcat @shawrs @nngkay @clearwater-hoe @skinmittensgoblin @let-love-bleeds-red @1-800-bxrnes @tinyminxie
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Time passed gently, three days melting into three nights.
You would have liked to say that everything was perfect and normal but normal for you had shifted into something strange: your boyfriend was a werewolf, you were his soulmate, all of his friends werewolves...and so was Jacob Black.
That had been hard to hear.
You’d already awoken when Paul came stumbling through the door, falling into the bed from the sheer exhaustion. Waking up without him had been more worrying than you’d realized, praying that the monsters hadn’t come too close to the reservation during the night. Reaching out to take his hands, Paul pulled you closer to him from pure instinct, kneeling beside the bed as you worried over him, over all of them.
“Paul?” you’d murmured. “What is it?”
“Jacob...it was Jacob’s turn.”
Fear flooded your veins like ice water, Paul laying against your heart and telling the sad truth of it all
The pain and fear of the first shift, the way he had called out for Bella, as though she could have saved him from the nightmare. She almost had, Paul confessed. Jacob’s shift had been longer than most of the others had been, almost double the months it took Paul and Jared, and Bella was the cause of it.
“It was happiness...she made him so happy that he fought it off for as long as he could, even if it was a losing battle.”
“How can you know that?”
“That’s what happened with Sam. Took longer because he loved Leah so much. And Embry took the longest...”
And it was the thoughts of love finally lulled him to sleep, Paul holding on and mumbling your name as he dreamed. At the very least, he was safe again and that was almost enough to comfort you. It hadn’t been a monster creeping into the reservation, it had only been a scared boy. Jacob...the thought of his name and pain broke your heart in half. Unable to sleep anymore, you had only held onto Paul a little longer as you silently mourned the sweet boy you’d known his whole life. It killed you to imagine what it must have been like, recalling the words Paul had whispered in the clearing.
“It doesn’t feel like you anymore...the way your skin rips and bleeds just to stitch itself together, the scars heal but you still feel them. You still hurt.”
You thought of them all at that moment. Sam, alone and terrified, Jared on wanting his mother who had no means of saving him, Embry, who had shifted weeks ago and was still struggling with the aftermath of it. One by one, all of those boys had been turned into warriors, forced to fight a war they’d neither started nor wanted because the only other option was dying. You envisioned it, that sweet boy in the darkness as his body was ripped into something terrible, screaming out her name…
“Bella!”
And you knew that Paul would understand it if you went to him, or at least tried to. Quickly scribbling a note on the back of some paper you’d found in the bottom of your bag and kissing him before leaving.
“Paul, don’t worry about me too much. I went to check on Billy and Jake, so I’m probably over there if I’m not back yet. I’ll be back soon.
I love you.”
You slipped the note on the pillow beside him, watching over him for only a moment. It wasn’t fair, was it? This burden they all carried, it was so heavy and so cruel and it shouldn’t have been theirs to carry. They were kids...just kids with their entire lives in front of them. Now those lives were on the line and so many more with them and you silently cursed the Cullens for it, praying that they would never return to darken this door again. Kissing him once more, Paul stirred in his sleep and murmured softly as you slipped through the door and into the early morning hours.
The air was dark and quiet, as though the earth and sky knew of what had happened during that black night.
Gone away was the light, sun hidden behind heavy clouds in shades of gray and black, a few cold raindrops falling onto the earth. Wind whispered through the earth, cold and cruel, and everything shivered within its grasp. It felt like a warning, this wind, telling you of something that was coming closer and closer with every step and beat of your heart, searching the trees for pretty, cold monsters…
Let it come, you challenged. And let this all be over with. But today, let me take care of them.
But the world had no answer to give to you and the danger never came, only a single robin flying through the rain with a low, lonesome song.
The kitchen light was on.
Approaching the Black house, you imagined all of the times you’d walked this same path...bounding up the dirt driveway with Charlie just behind you and laughing about something Billy had said, playing with Rachel and Rebecca in the front yard. But the nostalgia of your childhood was not nearly enough to chase the sorrow away, catching sight of Billy through the kitchen window, golden light pouring into the darkness. It looked as though he hadn't slept in a thousand years, dark eyes heavy and red from crying. And he didn’t look up as you walked through the unlocked screen door, focusing on what he was trying to do.
Pancakes.
Jacob loved pancakes, his mom had made them whenever he was upset or sick...and without her here to take care of their son, Billy was trying to do it himself, hands shaking as he tried to steady himself.
“Damn it!”
Dropping the mix with a clatter, Billy pulled back in frustration, hiding his face in his hand as he began to shake. You didn’t say anything. So many times in your childhood, dealing with your mother’s illness, you’d had to hold it together only for something so small to send you over the edge. A bad grade, a burned breakfast, a broken glass, one little thing would break you apart into a torrent of tears. And Charlie had never said anything about it, knowing that there was nothing to be said that could fix your hurting. He just stepped up silently and helped clean up the mess every time, hoping that it might be enough.
Now it was your turn, pressing a hand to his shoulder as you moved towards the counter.
How could something so simple feel so heavy? Billy didn’t say a word as you took over, moving towards the window slowly and watching the trees as you moved through the motions. Stirring batter, melting butter in the pan, heating the syrup because that was what Sarah had always done for them.
Long ago, you’d learn this was one of life’s morbid rules:
Disaster strikes and you just live with it because there’s still laundry to be folded and breakfast to be made, passing through both mundane and heartbreak altogether.
“It’s supposed to be an honor...”
It stopped you for a moment, the sound of Billy’s quiet voice, looking over your shoulder at him. Still sitting by the window, he was playing with his wedding ring and looking off into the distance, his voice quiet and aching of sorrow.
“The shift?”
“It only comes in times when the tribe is in terrible danger, our sons stepping up to protect those who cannot protect themselves. To be chosen as a wolf is supposed to be honorable, a sign of strength and loyalty. But this...this feels more like a curse. Jake’s just a kid,” Billy said softly, eyes still on the horizon. “Hasn’t he lost enough?”
“You all have,” you said softly. “Every one of you have given more than enough...”
And when you came closer to place your hand on his shoulder a second time, he placed his own over it, a silent thank you for being there.
“He can’t see Bella anymore.”
“It’s a stupid rule,” you retorted. “They need one another more than ever and Sam’s just going to take that away from them?”
“He’s the alpha, Y/N. Jacob can’t fight it.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you? He’s going to fight like hell, Bella too.”
And at that Billy finally smiled, glancing down the hall towards Jacob’s locked bedroom door. The first shift had left him exhausted, even with the others guiding him through it, Jacob still unmoving even now. It was taking everything you had not to storm down to Emily’s house and yell at Sam for making this harder than it had to be for both Jacob and Bella...but who would that help right now? Your temper was the stuff of legends but you’d learned to tame it over time, focusing the fury into kinder things. So instead you brewed coffee and poured two cups, sitting at the table together.
“Jake’s a fighter,” you told him. “That’s how I know he’s gonna get through this okay. It sucks and it hurts but he’s gonna be okay.”
“I feel like I’ve been saying that since Sarah died. He's tough, he’ll be okay, and he is. He always is. And it doesn’t seem right that life is always asking something out of him. Taking his mom away, taking care of me so his sisters could live their lives, and now this. He deserves just one thing in return, you know? Some small bit of kindness...”
“I think he’s going to get it. One of these days, something wonderful is gonna happen to Jacob, I know it.”
Perhaps the universe was listening after all, a single ray of sunshine breaking free of the clouds and interrupting into the kitchen. You followed the light of it, playing with a golden strand as it landed upon the photos in the hallway. There, in an old frame, was a picture of all four girls...you, the twins, and Bella, smiling on the beach. Sunlight glowed upon Bella’s gentle face, eyes far away and memories of laughter so faint.
It was almost enough to give you hope…
And with that little bit of hope, Billy sent you on your way, promising to call when Jacob was up and recovering from his ordeal.
“Y/N,” he said carefully, watching you with dark eyes. “You can’t tell Bella about any of this.”
“I won’t,” you promised. “I still think it’s a ridiculous rule but I won’t tell her about this...but if you think that’s going to stop her, you’re dead wrong. Bella’s not going to allow herself to be left behind.”
“I know that.”
“Does Sam?”
“No, but he’s about to.”
Grinning together, you looked once more at the locked door down the hall, silently praying for the boy still dreaming away. You hugged Billy as you left, promising to visit as soon as you could, Billy bidding you goodbye and instructing you to take care of Charlie for him. Paul was already waiting for you as you walked out the door, leaning against his car. He must have woken up and come looking for you, reaching out to take your hand once more.
“Come on, princess...gotta take you home.”
“I could stay, if you wanted,” you offered gently, pressing a hand to his cheek “If you need me here.”
“I’m always gonna need you and I’m always gonna want you. But I gotta take care of Jake and Bella’s gonna need you too,” Paul replied, a hand over your own as he kissed your wrist so sweetly.
And you smiled, knowing that he was worrying over Bella almost as much as you were. And he was right, wasn’t he? Something told you that she’d be needing it, this extra bit of worry, music playing softly as Paul drove away. The drive was long and quiet, Paul taking the longer route there and in doing so, taking every little moment with you that he could. It was some kind of simple perfection, gentle rain pattering over the car as the music played, a calloused hand steady on your thigh.
“I’ll be back,” he promised as he brought you to the door, kissing you softly.
“I’ll be waiting.”
~
A week passed, one day melting into another.
Paul spent his days at the reservation with the pack, guiding Jacob through shifting and teaching him how to hunt. And he spent his nights with you, the wolf running through the woods and appearing at your window. Every night he clambered into your bed, exhausted and holding onto you like a lifeline.
Perhaps finding out that the love of your life was a shapeshifter who fought vampires in the dead of night should have made things harder...but it honestly hadn’t.
As strange as it was to admit it, knowing the truth had made everything so much better. Everything made sense now, coming together so perfectly, the fear no longer leaving you unsure of it all. You’d finally found your footing and in doing so, you’d found a new side of one another, becoming closer than you’d been before. If only the same could be said for Bella and Jacob…
You’d known this was going to break her heart all over.
But it had been so much worse than you’d ever expected it to be, her heart left desolated in the wake of his loss.
Light and laughter had all but vanished, Bella once more plunged into the dark and silence she’d once sentenced herself to. And for a moment, you’d feared that it was going to be like Edward all over again...that she wasn’t going to be able to fight the current, allowing herself to sink down, down, down into the depths of sorrow and heartbreak all over again. And perhaps this time, she’d never come up for air, too lost in the hurt. For a moment, your nightmare seemed to be coming to life. Once more Bella was quiet and cold, you and Charlie whispering with worry well into the night. You’d been up and waiting for Paul, worrying over everything one night when you’d heard it...quiet, soft footsteps coming down the stairs, Bella’s voice whispering through the halls.
“Jacob...Jacob, please, just...just call me back.”
The click of the phone into the receiver resounded like a thunderclap, promising what was to come.
“She’s not going to stop,” you warned Paul when he’d come through the window. “When just Edward left her like that, she couldn’t fight it, couldn’t follow him where he was going. But Jake’s right here and she’s going to fight this, Paul.”
“This is the way it’s gotta be, princess. It’s not pretty and I don’t like it either but it’s better this way.”
“For who? Because the way it looks to me, Jacob and Bella aren’t doing any better.”
But he begged you not to fight over it, not tonight, and you loved him too much to deny it. Taking his hand, you led him to the bed, Paul holding you close and keeping you against his heart.
The thunder never ceased.
It came in the form of music thumping from her bedroom, footsteps through the hall and up and down the stairs as Bella called over and over and over again. The storm was within the slam of the truck door, the quiet tremble in her voice, and the look in her dark eyes, something of confusion and anger and love. Bella wasn’t drowning this time, she wasn’t giving up. She was fighting it just like you’d hoped that she would. Strange as it was to say, you’d seen what happened when Bella allowed despair to take her, how lifeless she’d been before. So if she was fighting then she was alive, and you loved every second of it.
Even if Paul didn’t agree.
Sam had sent him over one night, hoping that, as your boyfriend, he might have some pull in the matter. What a stupid idea. Clearly they didn’t run it by anyone else because both you and Emily would have pointed that out if they had.
“Look, Bella, it’s complicated. Jake just needs space right now.”
“Then why doesn’t Jacob just tell me that himself?” she’d snapped back coldly, glaring up at Paul without fear. “And since when does he need you to fight his battles for him, Lahote?”
“Why can’t you just let this go?”
“Maybe for the same reason you can’t just shut the hell–”
“Paul.”
You separated them at once, pushing him towards your room and asking him to wait for you. From the smile on his face, he seemed to be under the impression that you were on his side on the matter and going to persuade Bella for him...just another stupid idea. The door closed and you led her away, looking back over your shoulder.
“Don’t say it,” Bella warned, her voice low and furious. “Don’t you dare take his side right now, Y/N, because whatever happened to Jacob, I know he’s a part of it. I don’t care if he’s your boyfriend and you think he hung the moon, okay? And I’m not letting this go.”
“I never said that you should.”
Bella stopped suddenly, looking up at you carefully. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting that, smiling as you led her to the kitchen.
“Paul said–”
“I know what Paul told you,” you replied, moving towards the oven. “But since when have I ever allowed somebody else to speak for me, especially a man? Bella, please, you know me better than that.”
“So what do you think I should do then?”
“Don’t give up. Don’t go quiet again. Because giving up on this...it would be a mistake. I don’t know how or why but I’m so certain of it Bella. At some point I was wondering if I should give up on me and Paul, if it would be easier to let what we had go. Safer. But I didn’t want it to be easy or safe if it meant I couldn’t have him, even if it meant fighting for it.”
“Y/N...what’s going on?”
“Ask Jacob.”
And with that, you took the meal you’d kept warm for Paul and returned to him, smiling sweetly.
“So?”
“I talked to her,” you replied. “I think she understood what I meant.”
And that wasn’t lying, was it? Bella had understood you perfectly and even more, you had not broken any promises with what you told had her. Paul wouldn’t understand it, you thought to yourself. No one ever seemed to understand those odd feelings you so often got, following them even when it seemed foolish. Drawing in your sketchbook, an apple tree appeared, two figures standing in front of it…
No, he wouldn’t understand, but what did that matter? All would be well...you were certain of it.
Hours passed from a lilac twilight and into a gentle night. Moonless. Darkness covered the earth, the comforting light of the moon swallowed away and plunging all into the cold and the dark. Beneath the thick, black clouds, a few scattered stars still dared to shine, counting the faint, trembling stars as you watched from the bed. Paul slept soundly beside you, too tired to do anything else...he didn’t even stir when the truck rumbled to life, smiling at the thunder once more.
Bella would arrive in La Push like a hurricane.
But you remained home, waking in the early hours to an empty bed and a scribbled love note from Paul on your pillow.
“Y/N?”
Charlie was already up and in the kitchen, pouring you a cup of coffee as he looked out towards Bella’s truck. Safe and sound at home...you had to wonder what had happened last night. And clearly Charlie did too, sighing quietly as his gentle gaze returned to you.
“You know where Bella went off to last night?”
“Jacob’s place, I think. He’s been avoiding her and she’s starting to get pretty sick of it. I think she went down there to talk to him.”
“What’s going on with that kid?” Charlie sighed. “I heard he’s been hanging around Paul these days, has he...mentioned anything?”
You hated lying to him.
Every word always felt like poison on your lips, cold and burning...but you had no choice. Betraying Charlie in such a small way was easier then betraying Paul and thus the pack, swallowing the arsenic and smiling sweetly. It was something you were going to have to get used to, you realized, knowing that you could never tell Charlie the truth of what was happening.
“It’s just...I think they’re going through a rough patch. He likes her, she likes him, but they’ve both got stuff and don’t know how to handle it, especially Bella. Boy stuff, you know?”
And the mention of it was enough to make Charlie drop the subject, grumbling about nothing and picking up the paper quickly. You froze. The headline on the front page stopped you in your tracks, reading it over and over again.
“Earl Bennet, 47, was found dead beside Interstate 5. The father of three was found by a trucker, left in the ditch, his 1987 Chevrolet Silverado stolen. The police are still...”
You didn’t bother reading the rest of it, stricken with fear as you slowly walked to the Impala/
And as you drove to work, you would not help but envision it, seeing the man from the black and white picture in your mind. The truck drove down the highway, stopping slowly...Earl’s hand as he slipped off a wedding ring and again as it rested on a thigh. A scream. Music playing louder and louder as the dark fantasy faded, the only color that dark, terrible red as blood spattered.
“Just a dream,” you whispered to no one at all, “a waking nightmare...”
But you could not stop dreaming for the rest of the day, hours passing as the fear began to grow. You shouldn’t call Paul. He was busy, you knew that, there were more important things at stake then you’re make-believe fears and nightmares, he was fighting something real...and yet you could not stop yourself from slipping out the backdoor during your break, looking back just once as the front door jingled and a new customer walked in, catching a flash of a tall woman with dark, beautiful hair.
“This is Paul. Can’t answer, leave a message.”
But the sound of his voice was enough to almost quell the fears, smiling at the warm, sharp tongue of his voice.
“I just...just wanted to say that I miss you, honey. And I love you. We should do something instead of just falling asleep tonight. You could come over a little early and I’ll make dinner for you and Charlie or something, I–”
The truck.
It was right there, the 1987 Chevrolet Silverado from the article in the paper, parked right there in front of the diner. It couldn’t be, you thought. It had to be some kind of coincidence and yet...the door had been left ajar, as though whoever had been driving couldn’t wait to leave it behind.
“I have to go...”
Hanging up the phone, you crept closer to the truck, taking care not to touch it. But you still saw something inside...the windows had been blackened with something, all of them. And there was a pillowcase, dark red and printed with black thorny branches. Just like the sheet’s you left at home, struck by the strangeness of it. It was lumpy, something hidden within it and you caught sight of the black sleeve hanging out from inside. There were stains too, some on the pillowcase and some on the interior of the car, splattered here and there.
Blood.
Some of it was dark and old, having dried where it was, and more of it, still fresh and red. For a moment you were frozen, looking at it all in terror before you finally broke free of yourself. With shaking hands, you called Charlie, asking him about the truck from the newspaper, the license plate.
“Y/N, what’s wrong?”
“I’m looking at it right now...and I think there’s blood inside.”
“Don’t move. Don’t touch a thing.”
He wasn’t Uncle Charlie anymore, with his fishing trips and stories about stars and wolves, he was Chief Swan again. And he showed up with his deputies, the rest of it a blur of crime scene tape and calls to a thousand other departments and investigators. You found with your coworkers and the few customers that had been in the restaurant when you’d called, each of you waiting to be spoken to...a young couple just passing through town, a couple of kids from Bella’s school, an older man. Watching the scene, you tried to make sense of the feeling that something was missing, unable to recall it…
The woman.
She’d come in just as you’d left, recalling the song of the bell once more and the woman herself, her beautifully dark hair and the sound of her voice as she spoke to someone, so deep it was almost husky, but still with a softness to it.
“Jane,” you asked, turning to look at your coworker. “Where’d she go? The woman that came in earlier.”
“She left, like, right after she came in.”
“Without buying anything?”
“You know what’s weird?” Jane asked, looking at you strangely. “I think she was asking for you or something.”
“What?”
“Yeah, she asked if Snow worked here and I said no...so then she described who she was looking for. And it sounded exactly like you and she mentioned where you lived with your mom and everything but I was like, well, if she doesn’t even know your name, I’m not telling her anything. So I lied and said that I didn’t know anybody like that but I don’t think she believed me. She looked pretty furious when she stormed out.”
Charlie wasn’t happy to hear about that, having Jane repeat the story when he came to speak with you. The rest of it came easily, answering every question with ease and telling Charlie the one thing you knew he wanted to hear:
“I’m okay.”
But you weren’t.
How could you be when the woman couldn’t be found and the fear was growing around your heart like tangled thorns…
“Y/N!”
Turning quickly, you saw Paul running across the parking lot and smiled at the sight of him. Dark hair flew behind his back like raven’s wings, worry painted upon his face as he ran to you, pulling you quickly into his embrace.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m...” you faltered, looking back towards Charlie. “Nothing happened, honey. What are you doing here?”
“Bella called me, told me what happened. I was gonna come get you anyway, something happened...”
He froze.
And suddenly he changed in front of you, soft expression hardening to fury and hatred as his dark eyes began to gleam. Holding you tightly to his chest, Paul’s eyes roamed the surroundings, studying the crowd and the trees in the distance as though he were searching for something...for someone. Searching the parking lot, his eyes settled on the truck as he glared, pulling you behind him.
“Paul...” you murmured, taking his hand. “Paul, what’s wrong?”
“There’s another one,” he rasped softly. “Another vampire. Jacob caught her, chased her scent back to town. Sam told me and then Bella called and I realized that she hadn’t been far. Came to check on you when I got your message.”
“Do you think she was in that truck?”
“It reeks like they do.”
“Paul,” you whispered, looking quickly to make certain no one was listening. “that truck belongs to a guy they found on the interstate. He’d been murdered and his truck was stolen.”
“Yeah?”
“A woman came in around the time it showed up while I was calling you today,” you continued carefully, keeping your voice low. “They think she was the one driving and...she might have been asking for me.”
“What?”
“She asked for another name...Snow. But the girl she described was exactly like me, she mentioned Cypress, too.”
And he’d heard enough, pulling you along with him across the parking lot. His car was waiting there, parked beside your own, and he was opening the door, barely able to get a word in as he did.
“Paul! What are you doing?”
“You’re not staying here,” he replied. “Not with that thing on the loose, not when she’s looking for you.”
He was shaking, clutching the steering wheel so tight you thought it might break, and shaking so hard you thought that he might...change. And maybe he did too, closing his eyes tightly as he took long, low breaths. Moving gently, you pulled him into you, Paul releasing his grip on the steering wheel in order to pull you closer, hiding his face in your neck.
“Paul, I have a job,” you reasoned. “And Charlie and Bella, I can’t just vanish!”
“Okay...okay.”
He sat up, thinking it over as he looked out towards the parking lot. Crime scene tape flashed in the lights of the tow-truck, watching as the truck was pulled away. A part of you hoped that this display would be enough to scare the thing off and yet...you knew that wasn’t true. The thorns tightened around your heart, reminded you of the monsters within the world.
“I take you to and from work and I stay there, waiting for you. And when you can leave, I take you to the reservation and you stay. I’ll take you home every morning.”
“Paul...”
“Please, princess, I need this. I need you there.”
Your only answer was a kiss and it was all he needed, the fear falling away softly. Hands on your waist, Paul moved back into his seat and pulled you along with him, gasping into his lips as you were tugged onto his lap. Bodies moved together perfectly regardless, hips rocking into his own as he whispered your name like music.
“Love you,” Paul murmured, kissing you again. “I love you, Y/N Swan.”
“I love you, Paul Lahote.”
The sudden scream of the police sirens pulled you both apart, suddenly remembering that you were in a car...in the middle of town...in broad daylight.
But it was hard to feel ashamed when Paul looked so much lighter, pushing the hair from his face and kissing him quickly, just once more. It was enough to calm him for now, going over a quick plan together. You didn’t have to stay and finish your shift, the owner was closing early today. So he’d take you home and you’d check on everyone, packing a bag and spending the night at his place. It’d be understandable, after all, considering the shock you’d had. Expected, even. Sitting by his side, his hand on your thigh, you tried to convince yourself that there was no need to be afraid.
“Paul?”
“Yeah, princess?”
“What are they really like?” you asked cautiously. “Vampires, I mean...what are they really like close up?”
“They reek,” he began. “And that’s all it is at first, the smell of them. Cold and chemical...almost like bleach but even stronger. Just smelling one makes the air burn so bad you can barely see anything. At first you can’t figure it out. They move around so fast, just shadows and sounds, it’s hard to tell what it is until it stops long enough to look at it.”
“Are they ugly?”
“They’re beautiful. Perfect. It’s a part of their hunt, charm and beauty makes them hard to resist. But when you really look at them, you see them for what they are. We do.”
“What is it?”
“Hatred,” Paul replied. “It’s burning in their eyes then they look at us. Just pure hatred. And hunger when they look at somebody like you. Humans. They won’t touch us beyond killing but when they're looking at their prey...Jared caught one once. The male. Found him hunting too close to the reservation, watching a couple camping. That’s all that drives them in the end, hatred and hunger, that’s all they care about.”
“Even the Cullens?”
“Even them. They call themselves kind but is what they did to us a kindness? What they did to Bella? They’re just as hungry as the others, they devoured too. Our humanity, Bella’s heart. Took what they wanted and left the rest of us to clean up the mess.” 
“Do they scare you?” you asked. “When you’re out there chasing them...”
“More than anything, at first. The fear hits you like a tidal wave and it’s hard to come out of it for a while. But you get used to it and start to hate them too, just as much as they hate us. We’re equal enemies in our war.”
“If they don’t scare you as much, what does?”
“You,” he replied gently. “The idea of hurting you or losing you, not being able to keep you safe. Hell, sometimes loving you is enough to scare me. That doesn’t make much sense, does it?”
“It makes perfect sense, at least to me.”
“Does it scare you?”
“A little...loving you, it’s unlike any other love I’ve known. With all of the others, it was a feeling, something I held in my hands. I could carry it, hide it, break it, whatever happened just happened. It was more like a thing, you know? But loving you is a part of me. It’s breathing and bleeding, everything I am, it’s all tangled up into you.”
“Like you belong to me or something?”
“Not to you...with you. Like we’re part of one another. And sometimes it can be frightening, in a beautiful sort of way.”
“So you think I’m beautiful?” he laughed.
“I think you’re perfect.”
Suddenly he was pulling up to the house and you were kissing him again, Paul following you into the house. Charlie had beaten you home, talking quietly with Bella as you embraced them both, convincing Paul to stay for dinner. Though in truth, it didn’t take much convincing, the promise of a home cooked meal (spaghetti and salad, you’d done the shopping with Bella earlier) enough to get him to take a seat at the table.
It was almost perfect...almost normal.
Paul sitting beside you, touching you beneath the table every so often. A hand on your thigh own, bold enough to kiss your cheek and growl when you’d teased him about something. Charlie across from you, quiet yet happy...and Bella.
She watched you and Paul with a strange, sad expression, whispering softly in your ear as Paul washed the dishes and you packed a bag, Bella helping you.
“It’s just...the way he looks at you, I’ve never seen anything like that,” she said softly. “Like you’re the sun and he’s a blind man seeing it for the first time, you know? You’re the center of his whole damn universe.”
‘He told me something like that once, all starlight and sunshine.”
“It’s sort of beautiful, even if it’s a little intense,” Bella noted.
Looking up at her, Bella’s gaze was so far away...she was looking out the window and into the darkness, sorrow hanging over her like a shadow. She hadn’t stopped calling Jacob and he hadn’t stopped ignoring her, even if was breaking his heart and hers along with it.
“He’s gonna look at you like that someday,” you promised. “One look and you’re gonna be the moon of his life, I know it.”
“What?” Bella asked, pulling her gaze from the window. “What are you talking about?”
“Trust me.”
“You’re a little bit weird, you know that, right?”
And you didn’t bother arguing, hugging her as you left and smiling to yourself. Paul was waiting for you and Charlie was too, hugging the latter and leaving with the former. The night was bitterly cold, wind biting at your skin as you hurried to his car. Looking out into the darkness, you watched the trees sway in the wind, searching for it...the sounds and the shadows, the monster in the woods. But there was nothing beyond the tree dancing against the starry sky and you looked away at the sound of Paul’s voice, gentle and warm.
“Let’s go,” he said softly, waiting for you.
He drove faster tonight and you didn’t mind, leaning against him as he took you home, to that little space that felt like him and smelled so sweetly of bonfires and cedar trees.
It was safe, this corner of the earth, and you were safe within it.
In the darkness of the night, where the monsters could not find you, Paul took you into his arms and kissed you once more. He guided you slowly, gently, onto the bed as he did, never once breaking away. And you didn’t either, knowing that you were exactly where you needed to be:
With him.
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