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a-b-riddle · 1 month

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Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #angst

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homunculus-argument · 11 months

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One of the most fun character concepts that I've had that I've never been able to fit into anything is The Most Appropriate Socialite Lady. Nobody dislikes her, but she is, indeed, very Appropriate, always seeming to do everything precisely to social etiquette, even according to social rules that nobody else knew were a thing. If there is a protocol to how to behave or respond in any given situation, no matter how obscure or how long ago it was that this was written down in some Refined Society Etiquette Book, she'll know it. So she is a bit old-fashioned sometimes, but not in a regressive way.

Every time there's a situation where nobody actually knows what the right way to respond would be, they quietly glance at her, because either she knows exactly how to handle this, or if the situation truly is without precedent, her educated guess of what should be done must be the right one. Someone might even write it down for a future etiquette book, of how This Most Polite Well-Mannered Lady responded to this awkward situation.

She doesn't judge people, and is never rude about people breaking Good Manner Rules on purpose (as pointing out someone doing so would be impolite), but the way she seems genuinely surprised and confused whenever someone breaks the protocol that nobody else might even been aware of makes people feel self-conscious or awkward sometimes. And she politely pretends to not notice that. She is very kind, very sweet, but also extremely Appropriate.

So even if this isn't a Victorian style gentlemanly "fine ladies are fragile and must be sheltered from the world"-style society by default, people still feel the need to behave well and be on their best formal behaviour around her, not out of fear of judgement but because she genuinely is that way and nobody wants to upset her. And if someone who doesn't give a shit about protocols upsets her on purpose by deliberately doing something that's fucking rude, they'll be discreetly moved to a different location before getting the shit beat out of them because fuck you for upsetting her.

The thing is, she's actually just autistic as hell. She originally started reading up on social etiquette as a way of masking, but it became a special interest for her, and she isn't just thrilled to teach you how to properly fold a napkin to help you better fit in to the Refined Society, but because she fucking loves infodumping. She's not trying to set herself apart, gatekeep, judge others or show off how she's better than you (like many others of her background would), she just genuinely enjoys having explicitly and clearly written rules and instructions on how to behave in society.

Also the tactful and graceful way in which she doesn't pay notice to veiled insults, or people accidentally saying something insulting to her, isn't always an act. A lot of the time she genuinely just does not notice.

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lovverletters · 2 months

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I've been scrolling through your blog, you've got some pretty cute stuff. I loved the serial killer piece. Food for thought, just a little treat- yandere hacker. Serially online genius who falls in love with a small time content creator, and would go on revenge streaks to try and "protect" His darling from trolls

ERROR404˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

A/N : i miss 707. have some yan hacker instead.

T/W : yandere theme, mentions of doxxing, mentions of harassment, invasion of personal information

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

" Thanks for the 20 dollar donation 'L3M0NP1E' !! "

[name] thanked the donor with a grateful smile. Being a smaller content creator, receiving donation is quite a rare feat especially with the small size of audience they currently have.

They had only begun making content a few months ago out of boredom under the name of [alias name]. It started with them posting videos of gameplay commentary video, that by a stroke of luck gained traction.

Viewers find their awkward and bizarre commentary that's paired by theirㅡ admittedly horribleㅡ skills in video gaming entertaining and stucked around for more.

[name] was grateful of their supportive and positive followings, they've heard countless horror stories of small content creators being harassed by trolls due to lack of moderation.

They're thankful of the fact that they have yet to encounter any and hope that it'll stay that way.

" Chat, should I go in that room? I feel like if I do, the killer would corner me like a bully asking for my lunch money " [name] turned to read their live chat to seek for the viewer's opinion.

" I see plenty of 'Yes', if I die here it's on you okay~ " They snorted before moving their character to enter the sketchy room only to be killed by the killer the moment they step foot inside of it.

" What did I say, chat?! Like a fucking loser I not only got my lunch money stolen but I was also given a wedgies by that motherfucker! " They hysterically laughed as the chat goes crazy.

It took them a moment to settle down from their fit of laughter and resumed the game. As they were playing through it and talking to the viewers, they noticed a familiar name popping up on the fast paced chat.

edgelord404 : hello. I had a business to attend to earlier, what did I missed?

A smile bloomed on [name]'s feature seeing the message in their chat. This particular viewerㅡ edgelord404ㅡ was one of their viewer they recognized from their early days when the view count barely cracked a hundred on their postings.

" edgelord404 hey! welcome to the stream, we're trying to break into this old granny's bank account and steal her retirement funds "

" Not in real life of course. Don't be silly! " They clarified by emphasizing their words.

edgelord404 : sounds illegal.

edgelord404 : I can help. I got experiences.

[name] began wheezing from how much they laughed. True to their username, edgelord404 loves to spout the most edgy and emo things. They have to admit, it did lights up their days from edgelord404 attempt at humor.

As they were about to respond to edgelord404's comments, they noticed the chat being flooded by less than pleasant comments. They immediately recognized it as to be the work of internet trolls trying to get a rise out of the creator they're harassing.

Before they could attempt at defusing the situation, all of the comments instantly disappeared. [name] and their viewers were confused but the latter assumed that [alias name] got everything under controlled and thought nothing of it.

peachesandcrem : what just happened💀

edgelord404 : you were saying?

" Uhㅡ yeah. Anyways as I was sayingㅡ "

That was odd. Huh.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Saehoon leaned back against his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. He watches [alias name], his favourite content creator playing a random game they had interest in.

The stream went along smoothly until a minor turbulence appeared but nothing that he couldn't deal with. Although, he isn't entirely done with the trolls who had invaded his beloved's chat and tried to cause a ruckus.

He had encountered [alias name]'s page a few months ago, right when they had just started with zero following. Saehoon decided to watch them to kill some time but didn't anticipated for him to fall for them instantly.

It could've been the fact that he was the only one watching them failed at the same obstacle over and over againㅡ that it felt intimate. Their bizarre humour and commentary only adds up to their charms that made him fall even deeper.

It didn't take quite a while for Saehoon to dig up information behind the content creator whom had captivated him. Being a genius hacker himself, it is something he was used to doing on a dailyㅡ for work purposes obviously.

Within a few clicks, he has the entirety of [alias name]'s information in his palm. Such as their real name, [name]. Their location, acquaintances, friends, family, their backgrounds and even more.

" [name] .. " Saehoon uttered their name once he obtained their information. It sounded perfect, the way it rolls on his tongueㅡ they were perfect for him.

As time passes, he noticed them slowly gaining popularity and he couldn't help but feel proud of how much they had grown. Admittedly, he was somewhat responsible for pushing out their contents by messing with the algorithm.

Though, he would never take credit for their success of course, he just aided them and the rest is purely their hardwork.

Although he isn't keen on sharing [name] with others, he'd comfort himself with the thought that only he knows such intimate knowledge of [name] that none of their other viewers or fans knows.

Another annoyance that came with [name]'s success is the incessant waves of trolling that comes with it. Normally, he wouldn't care but if it involves his beloved [name]? they best count their lucky stars that he only leaked their doxxes online and not done worse.

Saehoon believed that [name] should invest in some moderator but he's aware that they couldn't afford to pay them. Perhaps he should offered himself someday, that way he could not only openly protects [name] from internet trollsㅡ he could also be closer to them.

Speaking of trolls, he contemplate on what he should do as a revenge for their pathetic attempt at harassing [name]. He'd leaked their personal information as usual of course but he's feeling quite spiteful today, perhaps he should dig up their embarassing past and posted it onlineㅡ or he could post a selfie of theirs that had never been seen before on a forum board.

They'll pay the price of crossing path with [name] and in turn him as well.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

#tw: yandere #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #gender neutral reader #yandere male #yandere headcanons

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yelenasdiary · 3 months

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Subby!bottom!Nat getting a nipple piercing just for R as her birthday present to her. But, the healing process is at least 2 weeks long so Nat always rejects R's advances for steamy sessions cuz it's painful/not allowed and she wants to keep it a secret until finally on the day of R's birthday Nat reveals her big present and R can't stop herself from sucking her titties. Bonus points if you can add in a scene where R tries to cup Nat's tits in one morning when they're cuddling but Nat moans as it hurts and tries to cover it up. (Thankyou for your work, you're amazing)

Happy Birthday!

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Summary: Nat has painfully been trying to keep your birthday present a surprise.

Smut 18+ ONLY! Minors & Men, DNI!!

Translations: Detka (baby)

Warnings: Sub! Natasha, Nipple Play (N Receiving), Slight Thigh Riding, Mommy Kink, Tiny Degradation, | 1.3K

AC: Thank you for sending this!! I hope you enjoy it!!

"All done!" The piercer smiled as they took a step back to make sure the bars were sitting perfectly. "Just be careful with towels, still wear a bra and no sexual activity in that area for at least 2-4 weeks" she added as Natasha put her favorite oversized tee back on. "Thank you, I love them" the red head smiled.

Nat had been planning this for months, she wanted to surprise you for your birthday but didn't think ahead of how hard she'd have to keep the secret. It's no secret that you're a lover of her breasts, especially when she's wearing one of her tight tank tops making them sit perfectly. She loved to tease you and would often wear a bra that was a little too small, making them almost spill out of her top, driving you crazy.

It's been two weeks since Nat got her nipples pierced but still felt they were rather sensitive and sore. She was glad that she'd planned this months in advance, your birthday was only a week away which gave her a little more time for the piercings to heal. It wasn't easy though, trying to keep you from hiding out. She was beginning to run out of excuses to kindly avoid any sexual activities between the two of you, so she ended up taking a small trip to Ohio to catch up with Alexie and Melina.

Nat got back a few days before your birthday and of course you'd missed her. The birds chirped outside the small window of your shared bedroom at the Avengers compound. You rolled over to see Nat reaching for her alarm, given that you missed her so much, you wanted a little extra time in bed before starting the day. Naturally, you dropped an arm over her hip and pulled her closer into you.

"Good morning" you spoke softly as you placed a kiss on the back of her neck, your hands making their way to cup her breast. "Good morning" Nat smiled, forgetting for a second about her new piercings. Her hands were full of her tits for a split second before Nat moaned with need. You gave them a light squeeze, not thinking twice about why she was wearing a bra to bed, she never wore a bra to bed. She moaned once more before she caught her bottom lip between her teeth to keep the pain from alerting you.

"God, I've missed you" you whispered, placing another kiss on the back of her neck. Nat playfully chuckled, "I've missed you too, but I can't miss training detka, we'll do this later" she replied as she gently removed your hands from her breasts and sat up, running her fingers through her hair before throwing it up in a messy bun.

You didn't question her excuse, but it definitely confused you, Nat was always one for a little morning fun before her morning shower. "Is everything okay baby?" You asked, sitting up.

Natasha nodded, "of course, I've just a busy day today and tomorrow I've got a few errands to run" she replied before leaning over and kissing you softly, "and the quicker I get everything done, the more free time you and I have" she added.

"I told you not to make a fuss about my birthday" you reminded her.

"I know detka, but you know how much Wanda loves to get everybody together to celebrate things" Nat replied before slipping out of bed. She had a point, even though you'd said a million times that you didn't want a party or anything, Wanda still made sure there would be some kind of celebration. "I'll see you later tonight" Nat smiled before disappearing into the bathroom.

----

A playlist of your favorite music played in the background under all the chit chatter from the others. The classic birthday song was sung as you blew out your candles, games were played before everybody was just enjoying a drink and talking among one another. You were sat on the sofa enjoying your drink when Nat came and sat beside you.

"Come up stairs, I have a surprise for you" she whispered in your ear. You bit your bottom lip as you watched her stand up, getting a great look of the dress she was wearing that hugged her figure perfectly. She reached a hand out for you to take gracefully before she led the two of you back to your shared bedroom.

Once Nat closed the door behind you, she locked it and made you take a seat on the small sofa. Your eyes were glued to her body, the way her dress rode up her thighs slightly and her tits basically begging to be let free. She straddled your waist, letting your hands land on her hips. "I've wanted to tear this dress off you all night" you spoke as you pulled the bottom of her dress over her arse to see she wasn't wearing any panties. "No panties huh?" You looked up at her.

Nat kissed you deeply while she worked her arms out of the straps of her dress. "Are you ready for your surprise mommy?" She asked, biting her bottom lip. You nodded, running your tongue over your lips. Natasha slowly pulled down her dress and unclasped her bra and throwing it to the floor. Your eyes were met with the small silver daggers running through her nipples, your mouth watered at the sight.

"Fuck baby! Is this why you've been avoiding me?" you asked, cupping her tits to get a better look.

"Mhm, they need weeks to heal, do you like them" the red head replied as she watched the way you groped at her tits.

"Like them? I fucking love them" you said before attaching your lips to her left nipple. Nat moaned at the unexpected attack on her breast, her nipples still rather sensitive only made her pussy throb as your tongue flicked over her nipple and sucked lightly.

You released her nipple with a pop before giving her right nipple the same attention. Natasha could barely help herself, the way you bit and tugged on her tits made her rock her hips against your thigh. Rubbing her wet, exposed pussy on your outfit. "F-fuck" she moaned as you released her breast once more.

"Don't stop mommy, please" Nat begged, rocking back and forth against your thigh.

"Is my dirty girl needy for me now huh? After weeks of avoiding me, I can feel how soaked your pussy is darling" you replied, gripping her hips and making her stop her actions, "You're not cumming like this" you looked up at her, "keep still and let mommy have some fun" you added before taking her nipple back into your mouth.

Natasha's moans filled the room, your hands still on her hips to keep her from grinding against you. Her head was thrown back, eyes closed while you twerked, bit and sucked on her nipples even leaving hickies in the valley of her breasts.

"M-mommy!" Natasha moaned. You could feel just how soaked your girlfriend was, she was beginning to squirm in your hold while her clit throbbed with need to be touched. "I-I'm g'nna cum!" She added with another moan. You released her right nipple from your lips and brought your fingers to both of them. You pulled harshly on them, sending Natasha over the edge as she moaned your name while you rolled her nipples between your fingers.

Natasha looked at you with red cheeks, "Happy Birthday mommy" she smirked before kissing you deeply once more. You stood up with Nat still wrapped around your waist before you placed her gently on the bed, "I think you can make a bigger mess, don't you?" You smirked before attacking her left nipple once more with your lips.

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#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff

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aashi-heartfilia · 6 months

Text

What MaoMao feels for Jinshi...

(Vol 5 epilogue discussion)

Love, duh. She wouldn't let just anyone choke her to death. Isn't it obvious? She just doesn't realise it yet because of her repressed emotions. I've seen a lot of bad takes and people hating on the Vol 5 epilogue, saying it's one heck of a disaster but honestly, it's not. Here's why:

I think it does a very good job of humanizing Jinshi, the imperial brother. Before this point, we were always given a picture perfect image of Jinshi, in his most angelic form...but after seeing this, it looks like he's very much capable of murder, lol. No seriously!

Previously, Jinshi was always all sunshine and roses and this is the first time we see a pinnacle of his anger and frustration taking a form.

Honestly, anyone would be angry. Jinshi has done so much for MaoMao and almost everyone close to him knows that he has eyes on her and only her from pretty early on in the series and only MaoMao is the one person who seems to be in the dark. Or more precisely pretending to be in the dark.

She is literally running away from her own feelings and that's what made Jinshi so frustrated.

It was the same thing in the 'Frogging chapter' (yeah, that's what we're calling it). She was "playing the role of an ignorant maid who's in the dark as to what her supiriors are upto". Jinshi was trying to tell MaoMao that he is the imperial brother and he does in fact like her but that never happened because MaoMao kept pretending that it was a frog.

Same here, even if he didn't say it outright, he was dropping so many hints! Who else could have gifted MaoMao a Moon hairpin? Who would have given her beautiful dresses to wear in the banquet?

Jinshi is called the Moon Prince for a reason and that hairpin had a moon and opium poppy. even other people recognised that it was given by him to MaoMao like Rishu's half sister, so a smartass person like Mao should be able to guess that this was all from Jinshi.

The same person who's busy day and night made preparations for her, only to see some unknown random person dancing with her and kissing her hand.

He was jealous and it's only human.

In fact, I'm glad that he's not a complete saint.

He was mad at MaoMao for pretending to be in the dark when he has gone to great lengths to take care of her, and he was hurt that the same person would even suggest him to marry someone else, i.e. consort Rishu.

He was trying to tell her how he feels, and she wasn't even willing to acknowledge anything that is between them.

Adding to the fact, she knew the thing between Basen and Rishu and yet she chose to turn a blind eye, to the love that could blossom between them and suggested her name to Jinshi. It was wrong on so many levels because MaoMao knew everything and yet chose to give the most political suggestion she could think of.

Maybe because of her repressed emotions, she herself has become heartless while making decisions but just like a double edged sword, it has consequences.

So it was a mixture of anger, hurt and jealousy for Jinshi.

And he wanted MaoMao to feel the same.

The same amount of frustration he has felt as MaoMao keeps running away, just because it would be a little troublesome.

Yeah, he's shitty just like that, and so is she.

(and we love them for it ❤️)

Does it justify what he did? No. But it seems like MaoMao herself doesn't even mind it that much. She looked like well within her comfort zone. Otherwise, we know how capable she is of defending herself. But she was there, pretty much sitting with Jinshi until she dominated him completely and made her escape.

Guess they're both far from the vanilla couple that are usually expected in these kinds of series and I absolutely love it.

She was just mad he didn't poison her instead, like he promised her, to which he replied he would NEVER let her poison herself (because he also loves her a lot too, duh)

This entire scene looks more like a battle for sexual dominance, which MaoMao won.

She always has, since the very first day he saw the real her ❤️

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luveline · 6 months

Note

Hi lovely!

Can you please do one where Hotch and Reader are in a fight and it gets heated and he maybe raises his hand just because he’s shouting and she flinches?

He would be prepared to FIGHT whoever made his honey feel that way 🗣️🗣️

💘

for you my sweetheart. fem, 1k

cw implied past domestic violence

“It was right,” you're saying, on the defensive, your voice molten, “it was the thing to do!”

“It wasn't.” Hotch closes the door. “It wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't even close.”

You realise, under everything, that he's right, but you couldn't help yourself, you had to try and save the day, had to swerve the SUV. Plus, he's done it himself, and you both know that. “If Monikie got out of that exit we never would've seen her again.”

“There were roadblocks on the I–46, and I don't think I have to tell you that you could've gotten a lot of people seriously hurt–”

“You've done worse,” you deny.

His expression, broadly furious, narrows into something sharper, “And that is my decision to make, but you report to me.”

“You can't seriously want to act like a boss now,” you say.

The room isn't overly large, and so you stand close to one another with no need for shouting, but your voices begin to overlap. Hotch is so angry. It isn't like him to yell at you, his voice strained.

“You can't truly think that the decision you made today was the right one. You need to calm down, and you need to listen to me when I tell you that this was the wrong move. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”

“You're shrugging me off?” You could laugh. “You can't be serious. Every member of this team has done the same, or worse–”

“But they're not you!” His voice peeks, his hand jolting out in front of his chest, flat-palmed in incredulity.

You're really quite close to each other.

It's not his fault.

You step back, desperate to be away from the movement, the hand, because it doesn't register as his hand, only there's a chair behind you and a table behind that and you bump into the plastic with a creak and screech. You're righting yourself as quickly as you're tripping but Hotch is already moving away. Three steps that feel like a gorge.

Your heartbeat soars.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

“Of course.” You breathe out funny. It's not his fault, but there's something wired in your brain now, and it knows that the first strike isn't the last. Your hand shakes as you brush at an itch under your eyes.

“I'm not mad,” he says.

“You sounded pretty mad."

“I've changed my mind.” He gives you a long hard look, and then he moves to the office door to open it before returning to his initial position. He's given you an exit route. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he says.

You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist, breathing out hard. “Fuck, I know that."

“You thought I might.”

“So profile me,” you say, panicking still, face hot and itchy all over. “Tell me why.”

“Someone's hit you before. Enough to anticipate the second blow.”

“But you knew that already, didn't you?”

Your ears get cloudy like there's water in them and you can't stand the feeling of Hotch's gaze on the back of your head. You force yourself into a standing position and try to ignore what happened.

“You're unfairly angry with me,” you say.

Hotch just shakes his head at you.

“It's… It's not a big deal,” you say, quieter. He already knew because of course he did, every member of the team gets checked. You have records, and he's in a position of power unlike most, he could've read them like the morning paper.

“Why would you say that?”

“I can still do my job.”

“I wasn't going to suggest you couldn't.”

Then why… why is he looking at you like that? You're humiliated enough, and his gaze is so… so soft. So sorry. Tears gather warm behind your eyes and your chest aches like you've been holding your breath. You frown, eyebrows lifting at the starts, not knowing if you should beg him to forget the whole thing or finally give in.

“Come here,” he says gently. Completely optional, his fingertips twitching but stationery at his side.

You stare resolutely at your shoes.

“I'm sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention. I can imagine how it feels. I'm not mad, honey,” he says. His voice drops to a murmur, “Come here,” he pleads.

You take a clumsy handful of steps and he meets you in the middle, arms going carefully over your shoulders. You'd feel condescended by it if it weren't shockingly nice to be considered in such a way, or if the solid mass of his arms around you didn't soothe. You feel protected rather than boxed in, held, and not restrained.

His hand slides open down the length of your back.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” he repeats, for your ears alone.

“It's not like it was really you that scared me.”

The memory scared you. The flinch was instinctive, less to do with Hotch and more to do with the connection between a moving hand and stinging pain.

He hangs his head by your ear until his nose touches your shoulder, and for a few seconds, it's just you and him together, no fighting, and no fast-approaching hands.

“You didn't scare me,” you mumble, hiding your face in his shoulder instead, forcing him to stand tall.

Incoming footsteps cut your embrace short, but he doesn't pull away too swiftly. His hands grave the lengths of your arms, and he gives you a long, loaded look. Before you can calibrate the action to the man, he's chucking you under the chin, a stroke of his index knuckle, a promise of more to say.

He catches Morgan before he can enter the room and directs him back out. “Take a minute,” he advises you.

You sit in a chair and do as he's offered. Memory is a tricky thing.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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thoughtidtry · 29 days

Text

Dress pt.1 - LN

SUMMARY: Lando's best friend can't keep pretending he's not her everything. Not after missing seeing him in person for so long. PAIRING: Lando Norris X LongDistanceBestfriendfem!reader A/N: Inspired by Lando's race win and song Dress by Taylor Swift. First time publishing my fanfics so I’d love to hear what you think! Almost 2K..... I'll do a pt.2 cause I still have more thoughts on Lando with this song. Part: 1 2 3

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Our secret moments in a crowded room. They got no idea about me and you"

Lando couldn't stop smiling at his phone in the paddock, not when you were the one texting him. All the drivers knew about his best friend, who they never got to meet.

"She's a busy person"

He would declare anytime they teased him about meeting you or asked if you were coming to a race. It wasn't that he didn't want you to come or that he didn't want you to meet the other drivers, more he didn't want to share your time. He wasn't lying to them per se you were busy and had moved to America for university as soon as you both had graduated secondary school. It didn't matter he had never actually invited you to a race.

"I'm spilling wine in the bathtub. You kiss my face and we're both drunk"

He could remember the night or well day you left like it was yesterday. The night before your flight, he had stayed over to spend as much time with you as possible. The giggles you made sneaking back into your room after your parents had gone to bed were almost as intoxicating as the wine you had brought back. You both stayed up drinking and reminiscing over the years you had spent together.

Somehow you had both ended up in the bathroom attached to your room. Too drunk to sit let alone stand, you had made yourself comfortable in the bathtub while he was seated beside you leaning up against it. He doesn't remember what was said or how it happened, but he will never forget how soft your lips felt against his or how you sighed after the kiss with a dopey grin as if a weight had been lifted off your chest.

The next morning he woke up in your bed but you were nowhere to be seen. A note on the bedside table along with some pain meds was all that was left.

Tried to wake you to say bye before my flight, but you wouldn't wake up. I don't know how much we drank but I've got a killer headache and can't remember anything so thanks for that. Text me when you wake! Love, Y/N

You had always kept in contact but he never would tell you what happened that night. He didn't want to lose you even if that kiss would haunt him every time he closed his eyes. You managed the time difference well, never judging the other for being up or asleep at random times throughout the day.

Late-night calls when you wanted to tell him something funny between classes changed to funny things your friends had done once you graduated from university. Even the early morning drunken messages he'd get around the time he woke up were moments he cherished. He missed having you next to him. Wished you would come home, but you have your life now in America and found a good job after university.

"All of this silence and patience. Pinning and desperately waiting"

Little did Lando know, the other drivers had stolen his phone and gotten your number long ago just waiting for the right moment to use it. Daniel was the first to reach out and introduce himself explaining Lando had wanted to let you know his phone had died.

You had shrugged it off, with how much Lando talked about the other driver it didn't seem that surprising to you that Lando had given your number to him. It was no surprise to Daniel how friendly and kind you were, but how smart you were was a shock. He never would have imagined their little Lando was friends with a lawyer.

Carlos and Oscar followed soon after hearing more about you from Daniel. They both said they wanted to get some stories of Lando as a kid to make fun of him so they begged Daniel for your number and to not tell Lando. You had a laugh retelling stories to them both that you knew Lando would be embarrassed about.

Max and Charles on the other hand had respected Lando's privacy when it came to you until they were added to a group chat with you made by Oscar without Lando's knowledge.

You didn't speak to the other drivers much in the group chat so you had forgotten it existed most of the time. They would send you pictures of Lando doing goofy things every once in a while, but that was about it. Never once did you think to mention it to Lando, it was a little secret look into his world and the photos gave you a way to know he was having fun. They reminded you of all the good times you both had shared together.

"Flashback when you met me. Your buzzcut and my hair bleached. Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me."

Secondary school hadn't started out easily for you, having moved away from all of your primary school friends. As a farewell, you all decided to color each other's hair. You had ended up a platinum blonde which made you stand out even more on the first day of school. Making new friends was hard at first. Most of the time you felt alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

It was probably the worst time of your life looking back. At least until a boy with a cheeky grin and sassy comebacks made it his mission to befriend you. At first, you didn't know what to make of the boy. Turned out his friend group had done something similar to yours but had buzzed all their hair off instead of dyeing it. He saw the girl with good grades who sat alone every day not as a freak like everyone else but as someone worth taking a chance on. You had no right to fall as fast as you did, but you couldn't help it. He was funny, kind, and well perfect.

"Flashback to my mistakes. My rebounds, my earthquakes. Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me."

As secondary school went on, Lando changed, not as a person but physically. No longer was he the straggly, small, buzzcut kid. He got taller, grew his hair out, and even became charming in a way you would never have imagined. Looking back he could remember getting his first girlfriend and how excited he was only to have his heartbroken.

He dated around more from then on, never getting attached to another girl. By developing a confident and flirtatious appearance he could avoid being hurt again. It worked on everyone as he gained popularity, everyone except you. You saw him for who he really was, always there to catch him when the mask slipped off and he shattered on the ground. Something he would always appreciate you for.

"All of this silence and patience. Pinning and anticipation"

When the drivers had first approached you with their plan you were skeptical.

Would he even want to see me after all this time?

You thought. You two had always talked about meeting again but your schedules never aligned. He always had a race or you had a case that you couldn't miss. They talked about how Lando had seemed down the last couple of weeks while you had been busy with a case, how they thought he missed you, and that they had a race in America soon. Blowing care to the wind you agreed. How could you miss the chance to see him again?

Clutching the hem of your shirt as you walked into the paddock for the first time, Daniel was waiting past security to show you around. Oscar had been able to pull some strings and get you a Race Day VIP pass without Lando knowing. You texted in the group chat and Daniel had been sent to come get you so Lando wouldn't notice. He couldn't stop talking about how excited he was to see the look on Lando's face as you two walked.

"Say my name and everything just stops. I don't want you like a best friend."

Soon enough Lando's laughter fills the air as Carlos holds his shoulder while bending over in laughter as well. You stood still for a moment watching to carve this memory of him into your mind before moving closer.

You smiled a bit to yourself, he was always the life of the party, always finding a way to make everyone around him laugh, and as always oblivious to his surroundings. He was still the same Lando you had fallen for all those years ago.

"Hey, Lan."

You said once you were a few feet away. Lando froze for a moment before turning around to look at you in shock. He couldn't believe you were here. Really here standing in the paddock only a few feet away next to Daniel of all people. He decided he didn't care how it happened only that it did.

Your hands started to shake as he stared at you. You wanted to hug him, kiss him, do something, but you were stuck. Stuck looking at him with hope in your eyes that he would say something, do something. Anything.

Carlos chucked at Lando's state before patting him on the back.

"Well, are you just gonna stand there? You know it took a lot of planning to get her here."

Lando snapped out of his trance, looking in between Carlos and you before breaking out in a sprint straight for you with the biggest smile on his face. He lifted you up by the waist spinning around with you in his arms.

It felt so good to have you in his arms again after all this time. At that moment, he realized it didn't matter how long it had been you were his home and he wasn't gonna let you go again.

#lando norris x reader #mutual pining #long distance romance #long distance friendship #lando norris #formula 1 #lando x reader #mclaren

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hellodarling1357 · 4 months

Note

#26 for the Cassian thing where reader is an IC member too and maybe them and Cassian have been seeing each other in secret for a while but Cass doesn't wanna tell anyone yet because he doesn't wanna mess up the dynamic or make things awkward for the rest of them but then all the stuff happens and Nesta comes along and reader's just sad and pissed because they're worried Cass is in love with Nesta now and secret plot twist oh no reader knows them and Cass are mates but it hasn't snapped for him yet so reader is losing it inside but obviously they can't tell any of their closest friends because Cassian still wants it to be a secret

even if you don't want to write this I hope you're having a great day/night ✩

Forever Tied - Cassian x Reader

Hello hello 🥰

The original prompt list I reblogged has disappeared for some reason so now I have no idea what #26 actually was but I did my best with the request you sent me so hopefully this still works, sorry Anon! I've made it extra long to make up for it!

Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 9.3k

Rhys was trapped Under the Mountain and there was nothing you could do to help. You had crumbled upon hearing his voice in your mind that last time, having no idea what this meant for your friend, your court, or even for Prythian. You hadn’t even realised you had fallen to your knees until a familiar, warm body had knelt next to you and pulled you into their shaking arms.

Cassian had been in the city centre of Velaris when he had heard, all plans for the day disappearing as the realisation of what had happened hit him full blast. Without thinking, he flew back to the House of Wind, unable and unwilling to process this alone. Although, subconsciously, there was really only one person he wanted to be with in that moment. Azriel would have distanced himself upon hearing the news, Amren was at her apartment, and Mor was at the town house, leaving only you in the House of Wind.

He stumbled in his rush as he landed on the balcony and raced inside. His heart broke even further at the sounds of muffled sobs that echoed towards him. In a blind haze he followed the sounds and found you on the ground, as though your legs had completely given out, unable to bare the weight of what had occurred. Without thinking, Cassian was beside you, pulling you into his arms as he rubbed soothing circles across your back, despite the way his own hands shook as tears threatened to burn at his eyes.

Your breathing eventually evened out, the only trace of your tears were the tracks along your cheeks and the redness of your eyes. Turning in his arms, you looked up at Cassian as though only just properly noticing that he was the comforting, warm presence that brought you back from your distressed state.

“We have to do something,” Your voice was a croaked whisper, “I know he said he put up a shield, but there has to be something we can do to help.”

The shaky inhale of Cassian’s breath told you enough. He didn’t think there was anything that could be done. Truthfully, you didn’t either.

You looked at your friend in awe as a singular tear streaked down his face, followed by another, and another. In all the centuries you had been friends, the sight of the male in front of you crying was one you had very rarely witnessed.

“Cass,” You lifted a hand to his face, gently brushing away his tears. Cassian was always the one who held everyone and everything together, and if this was the one time he openly showed he needed someone else to keep from falling apart, you would more than willingly be that person for him. “It’s going to be okay, alright? We’ll figure something out. And Rhys… well, it’s Rhys. He’s going to be just fine.”

The watery smile you gave him didn’t quite meet your eyes, the expression quickly replaced with alarm as Cassian’s breathing quickened, eyes screwed shut as though trying to compose himself. This you had never seen. Cassian completely losing control, his body shaking against yours as sobs escaped his throat.

“He’s gone,” The strangled sound that came from him had your heart splitting in two. “Amarantha, she will…she’s already…” He couldn’t seem to find the words, or couldn’t bear the thought of saying what was running through his head with Amarantha being involved.

“We’ll get him back.” You soothed, hands reaching up as you guided his head into the crook of your neck, fingers running through his dark wave of hair.

But he wasn’t calming, if anything, Cassian found himself spiralling further and further out of control, the emotions and the ‘what ifs’ sending him into a state of panic where even your comforting presence could do nothing to sooth his hyperventilating breaths, the tears, and the shaking that racked through him.

“Cass?” You pulled back, trying to force him to look at you. “Cassian? Hey, I need you to open your eyes, just focus on me, okay? There you go. Now just take in one deep breathe, alright? Just one, that’s all I need you to do. Okay, and again. You’re alright. We’re alright.”

Cassian’s hazel eyes stared into yours as you talked him through his breathing, your hands soothingly moving up and down his arms as you knelt in front of him and offered a comforting smile as you watched his panic slowly ebb away.

“Y/N, I—" Cassian started, eyes wide as he gulped and continued staring at you. Before you could blink or react in anyway, he was surging forward; one hand coming up to rest at the back of your neck, the other was gently placed on your thigh, and then his lips were hurriedly pressed against yours. You stilled and tensed in his grasp, it was all too much after everything else that had happened, but still… Maybe a distraction is what you both needed. So instead of pulling away, you leant into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him even closer, and kissing him back with such an urgency that a moan sounded in the back of his throat.

“Y/N,” he muttered against your lips, forehead resting against your own, his breath brushing across your face as it came out in heavy pants.

You just shushed him, also refusing to move too far away. “I know, it’s fine. Just a distraction.”

He looked at you for one more blink and then hungrily pressed against you, this time lowering you to the floor, his muscled body hovering over yours as you lost yourselves in the moment, desperate to forget what had happened and all that was yet to transpire.

*****

Afterwards, you lay on the floor next to one another in the, now dark, room. The combination of your heavy breathes were the only sounds that broke through the silence.

Cassian let out a sigh followed by a chuckle, “Well that was one hell of a distraction.”

You turned your head to look at him and let out a quiet, breathless laugh. Yes, it had been a momentary distraction but now what had happened to Rhys, to Prythian, hung heavy in the room. Cassian turned on his side, leaning up on one arm as he faced you, taking in your still flushed, blissed out expression that now had something akin to pain creeping across it.

“Hey,” He gently grabbed your hand and soothed his thumb across the back of it. “Like you said, we’re alright. And we will get him back.”

You nodded at him then pulled yourself up, tugging your shirt back on before throwing Cassian his discarded clothes.

“Come on, we should find the others. Try to figure something out.”

*****

And that was that.

There was no mention of what had happened between the two of you. No comment on the fact that it had been, without a doubt, and despite the current situation you found yourselves in, the best sex either of you had ever had.

No, even when it happened again three weeks later, and then one week after that, and four days after that, again, and again, and again, it remained an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That momentary distraction where you could lose yourselves in the pleasure of one another and forget about the mess you were left to deal with.

That was how it worked for the next few years. You and Cassian falling into a routine of comfort that you were unable, unwilling, to get from anyone else. You had no idea if the rest of the Inner Circle were aware of what was going on; in terms of your friendship, nothing had changed, there were just additional benefits that came with it now. It didn’t mean anything more.

That is, of course, until your routine had morphed into something that felt like it was on the precipice of something else.

The sex was just as mind-blowingly passionate, however, there were now some instances where it was a bit slower and less frantic, more whispered words and lingering touches. Where the two of you used to chat afterwards, an arm’s worth of distance between you as you slipped back into your normal friendship until the other one left to return to their own room, you now found yourselves wrapped up in each other’s arms, hands softly caressing skin until you both drifted into a restful sleep.

Which is where you now found yourself; wrapped up in Cassian’s arms as he softly snored against you, hand tightly holding onto yours and legs tangled together. You eased out of his grasp, careful not to disturb him and lent against the headboard with a sigh. Usually, you would wake the next morning, offer a small smile, then get on with your day, Rhys’ absence still a clear focus for you all. However, lately you had found yourself letting your mind drift more and more, especially in moments like these where Cassian was still beside you and the bubble you lost yourselves in was yet to be broken.

Each and every time you hated yourself for it, guilt taking over until you forcefully pushed the thoughts away, but you couldn’t help but think that, at some point, you all needed to continue your lives and break away from the standstill existence you had been in since Amarantha took over.

You would never say it out loud, but as the years went on, you had lost all hope of ever getting Rhys back. And if that were the case, and as much as you wished it weren’t, at some point you had to start living for yourselves again. Deep down, in the dark and quiet moments when you awoke and the house was fast asleep, you knew exactly what you wanted that life to look like.

You let out another sigh and looked at Cassian, softly brushing some stray hair away from his face and taking the time to really study his sleep-softened features. You hadn’t meant for it to get this far, but after centuries of friendship, and now the years of intimacy you had shared, the love you felt for Cassian had grown and taken form into a whole different avenue of affection. You were in love with him. You loved him and your heart ached at the thought of it because if you allowed yourself this one bit of happiness into your life, the solidarity and support that Cassian provided, then you couldn’t help but think of it as forgetting about Rhys and the torture he had been enduring whilst you were slowly and deeply falling head over heels with one of your best friends.

The worst part of it was that you were certain Cassian felt the same way about you. The way he held you and touched you, the words he whispered into your ear as you were both tangled, panting messes and then the dazed murmurings that were uttered into the silence afterwards, the longing glances he would give you when the others weren’t looking…

What had started as a desperate distraction and pure, physical need had grown into something so much more meaningful and intimate. And yet you both refused to acknowledge that it was anything other than sex as a means to cope with the instability in your lives.

“Hey,” You hadn’t realised Cassian had stirred, his gruff, sleep-filled voice tearing you away from your thoughts.

“Y/N?” Your expression pulled in confusion at the sudden worry in his voice as he sat up and grasped your hand. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

It wasn’t until his fingers were reaching up to brush away the tears on your cheeks that you realised you had been silently crying.

“I… I don’t know.” You said with a slight sniffle.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Cassian pulled you into his lap, your head resting on his chest as he pressed kisses to the top of your head and rubbed soothing patterns across your back. The unfairness of the situation had you stifling a small sob, Cassian’s embrace reminding you of exactly what you were missing.

“Want to talk about it?” He murmured into your hair, followed by another kiss.

Whether it was the build-up of emotions or your complete and utter exhaustion, you didn’t know and didn’t care. You sat up in Cassian’s arms, desperately looking for any form of confirmation that what you were about to say wouldn’t ruin everything, then took a deep breath.

“This…whatever this is between us, I can’t keep doing it. Not how it is now,” You were too caught up to notice the heartbroken expression that flashed across his face.

Cassian had willingly fallen into this arrangement and would happily continue to do so if it meant he could pretend, even for just a few hours a day, that you were his, and he was yours. There had always been a part of him that had been completely and utterly in love with you. And then when he found out Rhys had been trapped by Amarantha, his emotions had been a surging mess, so he acted on instinct and a selfish need for the upmost form of comfort and risked it all by kissing you. Now the thought that this one bit of joy he allowed himself was being ripped away, another thing he would be losing, sent his heart racing as he waited for the final blow of your words.

“It hurts too much.” You continued, looking down at your intertwined hands before pulling away.

Cassian looked up at you in confusion, “What hurts too much?”

“This. Us,” A shaky laugh escaped you as you gestured to the empty space between you, throwing all caution to the wind as you said, “I can’t keep pretending that this isn’t anything more than a distraction. Not when I have fallen so deeply in love with you that the thought of never…”

You were cut off by Cassian all but picking you up and kissing you with such passion that you couldn’t stop your toes from curling or the small whimper that escaped your throat.

“You love me?” His voice was breathless and gravelly, barely above a whisper. You opened your eyes, his forehead rested against yours, eyes squeezed shut as though trying to hold onto the moment.

“Yes.”

A joyful laugh sounded from him and reverberated through you as his lips found yours again, tongue trailing along your bottom lip before you parted them for him.

Your mind was racing yet you couldn’t form a coherent thought, pulling away in a desperate attempt to catch your breath.

“Good.”

“Cass?”

“Good. Because I have loved you since we first met and I can’t lose you, not now.”

You grinned at him before pulling his face down to meet yours and slamming your lips to his. You had thought that maybe, just maybe, he had been starting to feel something that was more than friendship too. But the idea of him loving you for that long made your heart skip a beat and had butterflies fluttering up a storm in your stomach.

“I feel horrible,” You admitted, quick to clarify at the affronted look Cassian gave you. “It just feels wrong, like we’re betraying Rhys. We don’t…we don’t even know if he is alive, Cass. I want this, with you, more than anything. But it doesn’t feel right while everything is so…” You trailed off, unable to meet his gaze as Cassian watched you with a look of contemplation.

“So we don’t say anything. We can keep it between us, at least for now. We’ve gotten this far without the others asking questions. I love you, so much, and as much as I want everyone to know, I get what you mean. So we don’t say anything until we get him back. And we will get him back, I know we will. Alright?" You nodded; eyes wide as you grasped his calloused hands in yours.

“Besides, I basically sleep here every night anyway. Nothing will really change between us, just that I can now tell you and show you that I love you, instead of having to force the words down every time you so much as look at me.” A blush spread across your cheeks at his words and the wink that followed, but you didn’t care to hide it, instead simply giving him a dazzling smile that sent his heart racing.

He pulled you in for another kiss, murmuring “I love you” as he guided you back down onto the mattress.

“I love you too—" But a loud yawn escaped your mouth, cutting off the rest of your words and sending you into a small fit of giggles.

“Alright, we’ll continue this tomorrow,” Cassian now laughed with you. “Come on, it’s late. Get some sleep.”

You wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his chest, the comforting and familiar scent had you drifting off in a matter of minutes.

*****

Cassian had been right, not a lot in your dynamic had changed over the years after that night, other than the giddying comfort of knowing that he was yours, and you were his. You weren’t foolish enough to think that the others hadn’t picked up on the slight shift, especially when Cassian had waltzed out of your room one morning only to come face to face with Azriel. You just assumed that they thought you were sleeping together, nothing more.

Then when Rhys returned, you had been, obviously, overjoyed. Not wanting to bombard him with too much on his first night back, you and Cassian had decided later that night once you were back in your room, to hold off on saying anything about your relationship until Rhys had settled back in.

Then everything else had happened.

The arrival of Feyre and her sisters. Hybern and the cauldron. The war and near fatal injuries spread throughout your tight-knit group. It was all too much.

You and Cassian had been discussing back and forth for months: do you tell them or keep hiding it. Ultimately, keeping your relationship secret is what you always landed on. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you were just finding excuses at this point to keep yourselves in your happy little bubble when so much threated to burst it.

Initially, you hadn’t wanted to rub your relationship in Rhys’ face when he was so clearly pining after Feyre who wanted nothing to do with him. Then their mating bond clicked, and you didn’t want to take away or overshadow their happiness with your own. The threat from Hybern felt like you would be playing with fire; if the King of Hybern found out… it was too great a risk when your enemies could use it against you.

Between it all, you still found time to be together; not once did the love you felt for one another falter. But with each excuse, and with each passing month, the decision wore on you more and more.

And then Rhys asked Cassian to take on Nesta.

You felt for her, you really did, but the time and energy Cassian put into helping her had a pit forming in your stomach. At the end of each day, when you were tucked tightly into his chest and his sweet nothings were whispered across your bare skin, you felt silly for ever thinking that he was losing interest in you. Yet, that feeling lingered just that little bit longer with each passing day and with each moment spent away from him when he was, instead, occupied with her.

*****

You had been away in the Summer Court the night that Nesta had hallucinated about being back in the cauldron. After you finished reporting to Rhys upon your return the following night, he had told you what had happened with her silver flames and how Cassian had managed to bring her out of it. With worry for all of them, you got back to the House of Wind as soon as you could but couldn’t find Cassian, Azriel, or Nesta anywhere. It wasn’t until later when you were getting ready for bed that there was a knock on your bedroom door. What you didn’t expect was to find Cassian on the other side of it, you weren’t sure why he suddenly decided to start knocking on the door to the room you had shared for the past 50 years.

With a quizzical look you pulled him inside the room and lent up on your toes to press a soft kiss to his lips that had him instantly wrapping his arms around your frame to pull you in tighter against him.

“I missed you,” he murmured against your skin, trailing lingering kisses down your neck that had a soft moan escaping you.

“I missed you. Rhys told me what happened here, are you alright? Is Nesta?”

Cassian pulled back, pressing another kiss to your lips then the tip of your nose before grabbing your hands and leading you to the couch by the fireplace.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” You remained silent, your doubt erupting in you as you waited for him to continue with bated breath. “We moved her to a closer room, next door to our, your, room, so that if something like that happens again one of us will know straight away.”

Cassian pulled back slightly, studying your features as though waiting for a reaction. You expression remained impassive; you could feel the other shoe about to drop and wanted him to tell you without beating around the bush.

“But,” He sighed, lifting your hand up and pressing a kiss to it, “I think, just for now, at least until things calm down a bit, I should go back to sleeping in my old room.”

“No.”

“Y/N – “

“No, Cassian,” You were shaking your head at him, not caring if you sounded needy or whiny or any of it. “This is the only time we can just be us. It’s already hard enough with keeping it a secret from everyone, I can’t lose this.”

“We decided, together, to keep this between us, there’s too much going on. And I don’t think Nesta will appreciate hearing us through the walls…” You cut him off with a scoff.

“Are you fucking serious, Cass? Are you worried about everyone finding out, or are you worried about Nesta finding out?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I never get to see you because you’re always with her. And now, because of her again, everything that our relationship is needs to go on hold? It’s not fair that after 50 years all I get is a few hours at the end of the day and to be kept your secret from everyone we care about.” You spat the word, all your emotions and fears finally bubbling over, however irrational they may be, but you had had enough.

“Sweetheart, we agreed that it’s for the best that we keep this between ourselves – “

“Well, I don’t agree anymore, Cass. I don’t want it like this. And don’t condescend me.” Your voice had a sharp snap to it. You needed something. Needed something other than the heartbreak that you could feel fast approaching; and a fight sounded like the next best thing.

“I’m not being condescending,” You could sense Cassian’s temper rising. “You can’t suddenly be angry because you’ve changed your mind without saying anything to me. And Nesta has nothing to do with this, it’s for...”

But the rest of his words became a blur at the sudden, incessant tug that pulled at your chest; that pulled you towards the male in front of you.

He was your mate.

Cassian was your mate.

You couldn’t do this, not now when you were in the middle of a fight. Not when Cassian didn’t even seem to be aware – or seem to care, a small voice taunted – of what had just happened. You needed to get away from him, to calm down and think before it could get even more out of hand.

“Cassian, just… Whatever, it’s fine. I’m tired, so just go back to your room, okay? We’ll figure the rest out later. I’m just…tired.” You finished lamely, voice cracking slightly as you watched him look you over, his frustration still evident, before walking out and loudly shutting the door behind him.

You slumped down, holding your knees to your chest as the sobs began. You had thought, had hoped, that Cassian was your mate. But this wasn’t how it was meant to go. Not mid-fight, with him having no idea of the bond’s existence while telling you he no longer wants to share your bed.

Having been so caught up in your thoughts and the overflooding emotions, you missed the flickering of shadows that darted around you. Moments later there was another knock on your door. Wiping your eyes, you called out in a chocked voice, “come in,” assuming it was Cassian.

Instead, Azriel quickly opened the door, closing it just as fast, before taking in the sight before him and making his way over to you.

“Y/N?” You could only sniffle in response, gratefully leaning against his side when his arm wrapped around you. “You alright?”

You remained silent for a few minutes, focusing on Azriel’s comforting hand brushing up and down your arm as you worked to control your breathing and halt your tears.

“I’m fine.” Your voice was hoarse and not at all convincing.

“Want to try that again?” You sent your elbow into his ribs, making the Shadowsinger chuckle before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

With a sigh he asked, “This has nothing to do with the fact that Cassian is suddenly sleeping in his room for the first time in, what? 50 years?”

You gaped up at your friend in shock and at a loss for words.

“You knew?

“Of course I knew. I live here too, remember? As subtle as you might think you’re being, I’ve got these,” His shadows danced around, reminding you that it was stupid to even entertain the idea that Azriel wouldn’t know.

“Oh,” A fresh set of tears filled your eyes and you stared intently into the flickering fire.

“Can you please take me to the town house? I don’t… I can’t be here.” Despite the late hour, you knew he would do anything for you in a heartbeat. While you and Cassian had been friends for decades before anything more had happened, you and Az had been close from the start, instant friends as soon as you had met.

“Of course.”

He waited for you by your bedroom door as you pulled together a small bag of your belongings, not knowing when you would be back.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

You didn’t turn to give the room that held so many memories a final glance as you shut the door behind you and followed Azriel out onto the balcony.

*****

Thankfully, the town house was dark and empty when you arrived, giving you the space and silence to process your thoughts and feelings. You had thanked Azriel for flying you over and had said a quick goodnight before you walked inside and headed upstairs.

Sitting on your bed, you vacantly stared at the wall, lost in thought as the minutes ticked by. You jumped at the sudden dip of the mattress beside you, only to find Azriel sitting there fixing you with a look of concern, a steaming cup of tea extended towards you.

“Thanks,” You murmured, taking a sip and revelling in the slight burn as the liquid went down your throat. “I thought you went home.”

“Not yet. Didn’t want to leave you alone like this.” There was a beat of silence before, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,”

You let out a weary sigh, content on sitting in silence but your thoughts quickly became too much, and you found yourself blurting out, “He’s my mate.”

Azriel whipped around to face you, shock coating his features.

“What? They didn’t tell you?” You gestured to the shadows that skittered around him with a sad smile.

“For how long? I thought you were just sleeping together.” He trailed off, giving you an uncharacteristically sheepish expression as you let out a somewhat bitter laugh.

“It started that way, when Rhys…left,” You whispered, revelling in finally telling someone even though it may well be over. “It was a distraction from the shit show that was going on, but then it just kept happening.” Azriel remained silent, letting you talk.

“A few years in, I realised I had fallen in love with him,” you voice cracked but you kept going, “Then he told me he loved me too. Said he had for a while.”

Azriel chuckled lightly, “That’s an understatement. He was infatuated with you from the moment you met. I knew something was going on or something had at least happened when he suddenly stopped talking to me about you whenever you weren’t there.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks at his words, but with a look and a comforting squeeze of his hand, you let out a shuddering breath and continued, “That was five years into Rhys being gone, and we’ve been together ever since.”

“Five years into… But Y/N, how? That means for over 45 years, the two of you have been…” You sniffed as he put the math together and watched as his eyes widened at the realisation. “How come you never told us?”

“We felt guilty that we found some type of happiness together when Rhys was trapped – “

“He wouldn’t have cared. He would have been happy for you; for both of you” Azriel interjected.

“I know,” You smiled sadly, “But it just didn’t feel right. And then he got back, and everything with Feyre and Hybern happened – it was never the right time.”

You could tell he was still confused, hurt even, about the two of you keeping your relationship private for so long, but he didn’t push you.

“I don’t know how I missed it.” He said, seemingly to himself.

“You only half missed it,” You joked, nudging his arm to try to ease the tension in the room. “We tried to act the same, things were just different when we were alone.”

“When did you realise you were mates?” You inhaled sharply, your earlier fight rushing back to you.

“Tonight. We were arguing and I just felt this tug and knew. He doesn’t know – at least I don’t think he knows.” You voiced your doubts, the weight of them getting the better of you.

“If he knew, he would refuse to leave your side. It just hasn’t snapped into place for him yet.” You gave your friend an appreciative smile and lent your head on his shoulder.

“I’m so tired.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll come back in the morning to check on you. You’re alright here?”

“Thanks Az.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before leaving the room; leaving you alone to finally mull over the fight, your emotions, and the fact that Cassian was your mate.

*****

“What’s up with you?” Mor plopped into the seat beside you, handing you a glass of wine that you gratefully took.

“Nothing,” You quickly murmured as the others traipsed into the dining room. You were aware of Cassian edging towards you and held in a sigh of relief when Azriel suddenly appeared in the seat on your other side.

It had been a week since you left the House of Wind to stay at the town house. A week since your fight with Cassian when you realised exactly what he was to you. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eye. Despite his best efforts to get you alone over the past few days, you conveniently managed to slip away every time. Tonight’s family dinner was the closest you had been to him all week, the realisation only making your longing for him even more dire – especially now that you were aware of that insistent tug that pulled you towards him.

Dinner was no different to how it usually went, except for the fact that you hardly said a word, opting to keep your eyes focused on the food in front of you. You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice that Cassian also didn’t utter a single word throughout the meal, the only difference between you both was that his eyes were fixed on you, not his plate.

You jumped up as soon as everyone had finished eating, wanting to help clear the plates so you could get out and go home as soon as possible, not wanting to prolong the night for any longer than it needed to be. Too bad for you, Cassian was acutely attuned to your movements and jumped out of his seat seconds after to help in a desperate attempt to have at least one moment to talk to you.

Filling the sink with hot, soapy water, you sensed, rather than saw, Cassian follow you into the kitchen, body tensing up as he silently walked to your side. You worked in silence, scrapping dishes, washing plates, drying, and putting away. Cassian’s eyes were fixed on you, brows furrowing further with every passing moment you continued to ignore him.

“Y/N,” His voice was quiet, unsure. So different to his usual tone that it had you involuntarily turning to face him. Your heart stammered in your chest, the longing and hurt and confusion that had been tearing you apart in your time away from him threatened to burst as you finally met his hazel stare. “Are you… Are we okay? You just left and I had to find out from Az that you’re staying at the town house and now you can barely even look at me.”

His words came out hurried, frantic, as though if he spoke any slower you would disappear. Guilt flooded you at the hurt you found in his eyes, but your anger was still very much present, the lingering fear of him choosing Nesta over you held too strong for you to succumb to those feelings of guilt.

“I just need some time.” Voice barely above a whisper, you inwardly cursed as your vision blurred over with tears.

“Time for what? Y/N I don’t know what’s going on–”

“You both okay?”

Neither you nor Cassian heard Azriel approach, both turning to gape at your friend who hesitantly stood in the doorway.

“Fine. Just fine.” You pushed past him on your way out, not giving Cassian a second glance as you entered the spacious loungeroom to say goodnight to everyone. A few moments later the pair walked in after you, you missed the loaded glances they shared, not privy to the hurried conversation they had after you left the kitchen where Cassian had all but begged Azriel to intervene, to allow him the chance to finally talk to you.

“Hey, Y/N?” You turned to look expectantly at Azriel. “Did you still need me to fly you up to the House of Wind for that book?”

“Oh. Yeah, if that’s alright?” In your rush to get away the night you left you had forgotten to pack the next book you had been planning to read.

“Does tonight work? If you’re just about to head off…”

“Sure, I was just going to go…home.” Your voice trailed at the end, willing the blush away as you kept your head held high. You felt as though you didn’t know what home was anymore.

“Great, Cassian was just about to leave as well. He’ll take you up there.” With a clap to Cassian’s shoulder, Azriel sauntered over to where Rhys and Amren were talking, brushing off their questioning glances as he pointedly ignored you, allowing no room for dispute.

“Oh…”

“Is that alright?” You tensed at Cassian’s voice, glancing over your shoulder to find his wary eyes on you. It wasn’t like you could say no, it was not alright, without making a scene. You would be having words with Azriel the next time you saw him; judging by the slight smirk he was wearing, he seemed to assume just as much.

“Erm, yes. If that’s okay?” Cassian simply nodded before gesturing to the front door and, after another quick goodbye to everyone, you found yourselves outside. Another fumbled moment, then you were held tightly in Cassian’s arms with the rush of the crisp night air and an uncomfortable silence engulfing you both as he flew you towards the House of Wind.

You couldn’t stand the awkwardness. It had never been like this between the two of you and you hated that this is what it had come to. The relationship you shared, whether that be friendship or more, it had always come so naturally. Now you were faced with a stilted, tense atmosphere, not quite knowing what to say or where you stood. Then there had been the fight. Sure, you had argued before, after decades of knowing each other, you were bound to come into some disagreements along the way. But you had never had a fight like this, where you had both been so riled up, fuming at the other to the point where you had both stormed away and then not spoken for days. You hated it.

So caught up in your thoughts, you missed the slight detour Cassian was taking you on, only noticing once you were placed back on your feet and found yourself in the middle of the training ring, rather than the usual balcony that led into the house itself.

“What…”

“We’re hashing this out. Right now.”

“You want to…fight?”

“What?” Cassian did a double take, as if just connecting the location with why you would think that. “No, I don’t want to fight. That’s the problem, we are fighting. This just seemed like the most private place to work things out.”

You eyed him hesitantly, not knowing what you wanted your next step to be, especially when the urge to wrap your arms around him and inhale the scent that was so him, the scent that had become home, was so strong.

“So, words or swords?” Your eyes snapped to Cassian as he fiddled with the one of the discarded swords you usually sparred with.

Words

You wanted words. To talk this all out and be done with it, whichever way that turned out to be. But then an image flashed across your mind; an image of Cassian standing up here with Nesta, hands guiding her into the correct form, fingers shifting along her own to straighten her hold on the blade…

Without a single word, you walked to where Cassian was and hauled your own blade up.

“Okay then.” There was a slight smirk on Cassian’s face as he followed behind you into the centre of the training ring. The quirk of his eyebrow was all you needed before you were moving towards him, swords meeting with a clash that pierced the night.

You didn’t think about the moves you were making, giving way to centuries of refined and well-practiced instinct. Cassian was stronger, you knew he would hold out for longer, but you were well matched for now. Both of your foreheads started to sheen in sweat, pants of exertion echoed alongside the clank and clash of swords, and as you moved around and against one another, you finally let out all of your pent-up emotions until you had nothing left.

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore.” You gasped before dropping the sword and falling to your knees, tears streamed down your face at the sudden emotional outlet. Cassian was by your side in an instant, his sword dropped to the ground in a ricochetting crash.

“Y/N,” His voice was alert, on-edge, eyes dancing over you as he tried to work out what was wrong. “Are you hurt?” The frantic tone now had sobs racking from your chest, shaking your head you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you cried and cried and cried. Without a second thought, Cassian had his arms around you, pulling you into his lap as he softly caressed your back and whispered soothing words into your ear.

He stayed silent, giving you the time and space to calm down and filter through your thoughts. Not once rushing you or demanding answers after a week of uncertainty.

“I’m sorry, Cass. I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. I just…” At least you managed to get a few words out before you were overcome with tears once again. You weren’t sure what they were for at this point with so many thoughts and scenarios racing through your head: the fight, Cassian being your mate, Cassian getting close with Nesta, Cassian leaving you, Cassian leaving you for Nesta, and then you being forced to watch them be together, knowing you couldn’t stand the thought of him not being in your life, in whatever capacity you were granted.

“Shhh,” He soothed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he softly rocked you back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

With a deep breath, you nodded against his chest in an attempt to compose yourself. Noting in the position you were in, you could have laughed if you weren’t feeling so empty and deflated; this is how you had both gotten into this in the first place, all those years ago when you thought you would never see Rhys again – both of you with your arms around each other, crying and saying everything was going to be okay. Only this time, you weren’t so sure if the strength of your relationship would hold.

“Please, talk to me, Y/N. What’s going through that head of yours.”

You couldn’t take not knowing what was going to happen any longer. So with a final sniffle, you leant back, sitting on the ground beside him and pulling your knees up to your chest as you held your arms tightly around yourself.

“I don’t know where to start…”

“What about when you decided you wanted the others to know?” There was no malice in his voice, only gentle concern that prodded you to continue.

“I’ve always wanted the others to know,” You ignored Cassian’s slight indignation, “But it was never the right time, what with everything that was happening then, and everything that’s happened since. It felt like the right decision at the time, it felt safe. It was nice knowing that this was just for us when so much was going wrong. But I want to be with you outside of our room. I want to be able to hold your hand and walk through Velaris, kiss you in front of our friends, not pretend that you don’t mean the world to me, because you do Cassian.”

He remained quiet, letting you talk and giving you the space to get everything off your chest but the lingering presence of his hand drawing soothing circles across your back had you feeling grounded. “I love you and the thought of losing you has been tearing me apart.” You winced at the tremor in your voice, gaze fixed on the ground in front of you.

You didn’t dare mention the fact that you were mates. Not yet. He deserved the chance to properly say what needed to be said, without the cauldron’s interference tying him down if he did, in fact, want to leave.

“Why do you think you’re losing me?” Cassian’s voice was quiet and contemplative, as though processing everything you had said but not quite connecting the dots. The kiss to the side of your head had you inhaling a shaky breath and you forced yourself to will away the tears that threatened to spill.

“We’ve been so distant lately; we never get to see each other. And, look, I know it’s for Rhys, but I’m away all the time, and you’re always with Nesta. Then the other night when you said you didn’t want to share our room anymore, and that you were afraid she would find out… I don’t know, I guess it all just became too much.” You could feel his eyes on you but the blush burning your cheeks had you refusing to meet his gaze.

A moment later, Cassian softly said, “I never said I didn’t want to share a room with you, believe me, I want to spend every moment I can with you–” You made a noise of protest, but Cassian gently shushed you before continuing. “But Rhys and Feyre need Nesta to be okay and he’s given that job to me. I should’ve spoken to you about it first or explained it better when I said I was going to sleep in my old room. But you saw what Nesta was like before we got her up here, I didn’t think her seeing, or hearing, us together would be all that helpful – especially when she was using sex as a way to cope with everything.”

“Oh…” You felt stupid. Stupid and selfish and completely undeserving of the amazing, considerate male beside you.

“And,” Cassan continued with a playful nudge of his shoulder, “You have no idea how much I want everyone to know about us. No idea how hard it has been to not tell everyone that this amazing, brilliant, strong, kind female is mine. And just how hard it has been seeing other males so much as look at you without being able to say anything to them.”

You still couldn’t tear your eyes from the ground in front of you, but Cassian noticed the soft smile tugging at your lips.

“Cauldron, if you want, I can fly us back to the River House right now. We can tell everyone exactly what’s been going on, you can kiss me in front of all of our friends then we can go into Velaris, I’ll even let you hold my hand as we walk around.” Another playful nudge had you softly chuckling, eyes finally darting over to look at Cassian. Your heart faltered at the expression on his face, the complete love and adoration that laced his features as he watched you, his own mouth pulling into a smile at the laugh he managed to pull from you.

“Yeah?” Your voice was still slightly hoarse from your previous tears, but it was a touch lighter. You felt lighter.

“Yeah.” Cassian stretched his legs out in front of him, wrapping one arm around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, leaning back on the other.

Still, some doubt lingered. It couldn’t be this easy. Things were never this easy.

“So, you’re not going to leave me?” You couldn’t remember the last time you felt shy in front of him, and you hated yourself for asking, hated that he might think you weak, needy, pathetic – the words raced around, threatening to send you into a panic.

“Never,” That one word had you relaxing immediately. “You would have to force me to leave you, and even then… I’m not going aware, Sweetheart.”

You could have melted at his words. You swore you did as you leant against him, letting out a small sigh of relief, a breath you had been holding for days, weeks, months.

“Y/N?” His voice sent a shiver down your spine, the words whispered into your ear as his breath fanned across your skin. “Can I please kiss you now?”

You tilted your head up to face him, a small smile gracing your features as he slanted his lips over your own and you immediately felt as though you had returned home.

Pulling away all too quickly, your lips desperately chased his, only to receive a playful peck in response before Cassian was helping you to your feet.

“Come on,”

“Cass?” You laugh was laced with confusion, yet you followed him anyway, watching as he picked up the discarded sparring swords and placing them back alongside the others.

“What? We’ve got some news to share,” He stole another quick kiss as he laced your hands together.

“Now?”

“Yes now,” He mocked with a playful grin, “I don’t want to waste another moment, especially when it has you feeling as though–”

The abrupt stop to Cassian’s words had the smile slipping from your face as you took in his wide eyes and startled expression.

“Cassian, what’s wrong?”

“Y/N… You’re…” He let out a disbelieving laugh as he continued to stare at you, drinking in every feature, every miniscule detail and expression that crossed your face. Turning your head, you tried to look around for the cause of his sudden change in demeanour, only to be met with gentle, yet calloused, hands cupping your face, urging you to meet his gaze before his lips were pressed over yours again.

Despite the confusion, you gratefully accepted and leant into the kiss, relaxing as his arms draped around your waist and as you let your fingers travel up his neck before tangling into his hair. Cassian was breathing heavily when he pulled away, you could hear the pounding of his heart as he pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes remained tightly shut, the feel of his lashes fluttering across your skin sent your own heart fluttering in response.

Then he mumbled something incoherently; too quiet and smothered for you to even begin to comprehend.

“Hmm?” You asked, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Another murmur had you pulling away, eyebrows furrowing as you took in his dumbfounded expression and the way his eyes were still tightly shut. But there was now a smile tugging at his lips.

“Cass?”

“Mate. You’re my mate.” His eyes snapped open, revealing complete, utter joy as he stared at you with wonder and bewilderment.

Oh. Right.

“And you’re my mate.” At least you didn’t have to keep this to yourself any longer.

Cassian tilted his head as he processed your reaction and the way your lips spread into a soft, loving smile.

“You knew. You already knew.” Although his voice was laced with exasperation, his face held nothing but love and giddy excitement, eyes bright as he met yours. You sent a wave of affirmation down the newly linked bond, watching with joy as Cassian’s eyes lit up even further at the sensation. You knew you were grinning just as stupidly back at him when you felt a tug of your own filled with nothing but love.

The two of you stood there grinning and staring at one another as though seeing the other in a new light. Then you were both moving, arms a flurry as they desperately wrapped around the other, lips meeting in a loving and passionate kiss that only intensified with each tug that raced down the bond, igniting the need for more, so much more.

A gentle tap from Cassian and you were quick to jump up, wrapping your legs around his waist as his arms held you tightly against him. Through the kisses and moans and soft sighs, somehow Cassian found himself moving, walking the two of you to the door that would lead you inside and to your room.

“Wait,” You pulled back, gasping for air as you leant your forehead against his, legs still tightly wrapped around his middle. Cassian was panting just as heavily, waiting on your every move and word. “Kitchen.”

The suggestive grin he shot you went straight to your core, the feeling only amplified as he attached his lips to your neck. “I think I like where this is heading,” A soft moan sounded in the back of your throat as he tugged on your earlobe, then he was walking again, albeit very quickly, towards the kitchen, his lips back on yours.

“No, idiot,” Another moan had your breathless words halting immediately. “Food.”

Now Cassian pulled away, looking at you through the haze of love and lust, now tainted by a hint of confusion.

“Food,” You continued, pressing a kiss to his lips before trailing along his jaw and returning the favour with a tug on his earlobe. “For the mating bond.”

You felt Cassian’s body tense against you, “You’re going to accept it?”

“Yes…” you said tentatively, not quite understanding the need for his question because what other answer was there?

The intensity in which he kissed you had him stumbling back a few steps, arms wrapping even tighter around you to keep you in his arms.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Your gaze softened as you took in his uncertain expression, as you felt it through the bond.

“No, I don’t know. I just thought… I mean, you’re… Do you really want to be tied to a bastard-born Illy…” You cut his words off with a sharp look and a deep kiss that conveyed exactly what you thought of what he had just implied. Then you were sending every ounce of love and affection that you could muster towards him, heart melting as his expression changed and with the way he looked at you whilst processing the raw, vulnerability of the emotions surging down the bond.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, barely more than a lingering peck before saying, “Please can you let me give you some food now? I’ve been keeping this in all week.”

“All week? You’ve known about this since…”

“It snapped during our fight,” You shrugged, not wanting to relive it now that you had finally reached this point.

It was Cassian’s turn to pull you into a tender kiss before you found yourself overwhelmed by the new sensation of his emotions landing right above your heart.

“I think we can hold off on telling the others for just a little bit longer.”

“I think you’re absolutely right,” You tapped his arm gently and he placed you back onto your feet. Lacing your fingers with his, you pulled him into the kitchen and made him take a seat while you went about putting a plate of food together.

“Besides,” You continued, suddenly remembering Azriel’s involvement, “Az already knows. So I’m sure the others have put the pieces together by now and will steer clear for a few days.”

“A few weeks more like.” You grinned at the slight growl in his voice and the hunger in his eyes as his gaze remained fixed on you.

“Here,” Your voice was almost breathless, stomach fluttering with excitement and nerves as you pushed the plate towards him. Cassian briefly glanced down at it then, with a look of well-honed restraint, he slowly stood and walked over to you, pulling you in for a kiss as he murmured, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Without tearing his eyes away from you, Cassian reached across the table for the plate, eating everything on it as you remained transfixed on one another, basking in the feeling of the bond you shared growing stronger and stronger until, at last, everything felt as though it had finally fallen into place.

***** Thanks for reading 🥰

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #azriel acotar #rhysand acotar #cassian x y/n #marley writes

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cryptidghostgirl · 4 months

Note

Are your requests still open? I was hoping for a request for a Lucifer x sinner reader where she was once in love with someone when she was alive but they betrayed her leading to her death causing her to be afraid of letting others in. She's been a resident of the hotel since the pilot, but doesn't really talk much about her feelings or past life but is convinced by Charlie who says singing helps her when she needs to get out her own emotions. So when she thinks everyone is gone for the day on one of Charlie's bonding field trips, she uses the piano in the main area to sing her heart out, not realizing Lucifer decided to stay. The song I'm thinking of is "Perfect Doesn't Last" by Beth Crowley. So when she sings it and he overhears listening and watching her he's reminded of Lilith and feels for the reader understanding her more than when they first met during his first visit to the hotel (ep 5). I'm not sure of how to end it, so if you want to add anything to it I'm totally up for it. I just thought this song would match him so well.

A/N this is my first time writing for this man. Also,, i think it’s so funny that everyone is just like “short king” even tho alastor is canonically at least seven feet tall and charlie is at least like six feet tall. that’s so silly of us.

Encore (Lucifer x Reader)

Paring: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Domestic abuse briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,169

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Lucifer had just wanted to visit Charlie. With their relationship on the up and up, he was eager to not give up his chance to fix things with his favorite and only daughter. However, when he arrived at the hotel, throwing the doors open in unadulterated excitement, it was to find the normally busy lobby area empty.

The door fell shut behind him and his smile slipped from his face. Carefully, he ran his eyes over every inch of the room. There really was no one to be found.

"Maybe they're just all in their rooms, yeah." he said aloud to himself, "Charlie is probably... in her office! It must take a lot of work to run a place like this. Yeah, that's what it is."

Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had asked her to come with them to the movies. It was supposed to be a reward, for how hard they had all been working. They had really tried their best to convince Y/n to join them but, as always was the case when activities that took them out of the hotel were not required, Y/n had declined the offer.

Y/n was still getting used to Hell in all its big scary wonder, she still hurt. Everything was so complicated and while spending time with her thoughts didn't make her feel good per-say, spending time with others had been making her feel even worse. Besides, Charlie had given her some advice a few days ago she wanted to test out and she didn't exactly feel comfortable doing that while the hotel was crawling with people.

Y/n trusted Charlie. She was the first person to have extended a kind hand in her direction since her arrival in Hell. When Charlie had found out Y/n had been a concert pianist in the living world, she was elated.

"That's perfect!" she had said, leaning across the desk towards her, "We have a piano in the Hotel's auditorium!"

"I... I don't know if I really can... perform, right now. If that's alright." Y/n had replied, wringing her hands and unable to keep eyecontact.

"What? Oh no! That's not what I meant at all. It just seems... well if you did it for a living, you must have loved it. And it seems like you always have a lot on your mind, lots of stuff to process, and I know you don't like talking to people about it and, well, music always makes me feel better. It feels freeing, like I'm getting everything bottled up inside me out when I sing."

"I... I don't think I've ever really thought about it that way." she had admitted in response, "It was just something I had always done. I started lessons when I was three."

"Well, you should try it some time." Charlie had smiled back, "Maybe it will help."

Once she was sure everyone was gone and the hotel was hers alone, Y/n had slipped quietly from the confinement of her room. It had taken her a bit to find the auditorium. When she finally did and saw the piano it held, her breath caught in her throat.

It was a beautiful old baby grand made out of a warm cherry wood that matched the hotel's theming well. The lid had creaked when she had opened it, the keys had been dusty to the touch.

It had been a long time since she'd played. With mild joy, she let her fingers run the usual scales and arpeggios, finding a comfort in the familiarity of it all. Once satisfied her fingers were all warmed up and ready to play something real, she posed them over the keys.

Lucifer had lost himself in the depths of the labyrinthine hotel. The twists and turns of the hallways were unfamiliar to him despite the tour Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had lead him on. His hope at finding his daughter and spending some time with her had long since flickered out. He was on the verge of going home, his hand half raised to open a portal, when he heard it.

A faint echo of music flooded the hallway and Lucifer froze. It was haunting and distant, it drew him in. His sights set on a new sort of entertainment for the afternoon, he listened carefully and began to follow the sound.

As he got closer to its source, Lucifer realized that who ever was making the music was not just playing the piano but singing. Their voice was soft and lovely, nearly ethereal in its sheer humanity and anguish.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

I couldn't get enough

It was a fairytale come to life

Lucifer at last reached the half open door to the room the music appeared to be coming from. Not wanting to disturb the artist just yet, he transformed into a snake and slithered his way silently into the room. There, sitting at the piano on the stage, was Y/n.

I had your heart

At least that's what I thought

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

He didn't really know much about Y/n except that she was new to Hell. Charlie had mentioned off hand that she had died in an incident of domestic abuse. Lucifer had no idea why she had ended up in Hell or what she was really like. When he had visited the hotel the first time, Y/n had been quiet and reserved. She had stood to the side and watched, barley even introducing herself to him.

At first, he had thought it to be disrespect. Not every demon in Hell was his biggest fan after all and while he was used to it, it still stung that even one of his daughters would be reformed sinners would be blatantly rude to him. He had quickly realized however from her flittering eyes and the way she clutched at herself that it wasn't disrespect at all. Y/n had been nervous.

Of course, Lucifer had made an attempt to make her feel more comfortable but, when he had extended his metaphorical hand, Y/n had just closed herself off even further. According to Charlie and Angel Dust, that was just what the demoness was like. She was shy.

You got inside my head

Taking up every inch of space

'Til there was no room left

Her hands flew across the keys with a practiced grace. Lucifer felt she knew he was there, watching. He felt that she just might be performing for him.

So many parts of me erased

You had my heart

And tossed it in the dirt

As he listened to the words she sung, they resonated with him. For a split second, he could have sworn it was Lilith sitting there at the piano, not Y/n. He shut his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was oddly grateful when he opened them again to find it had just been his imagination.

Now that was a first. Since Lilith had disappeared seven years ago, Lucifer had been a mess. Lucifer was always a mess but, Lilith leaving like that really did him in. She had been his rock, his guiding light, his everything. He had risked everything for her and he had lost. At least, back in the old days, he had gained something out of the chaos. A daughter, a wife, a world to try and shape. One after another, they were all taken from him. Even now, even with their relationship improving the way it was, he felt Charlie slipping away again.

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

I just keep asking

Would this have been worth it if I knew the ending all along.

Without really thinking about it, Lucifer retook his normal form and sat down in one of the auditorium's front row seats. Thankfully, Y/n was too wrapped up in her own world to notice and she just continued to play.

What started so perfect was over too fast

I should have seen the warning signs

'Cause perfect doesn't last

Perfect doesn't last

Light shined off her face, that was how Lucifer had realized she was crying. Despite the tears, her voice never wavered. A performer at her core, just like him.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

As the last lingering notes echoed through the room, he began to clap. Y/n jumped at the noise, turning to face him with wide eyes and cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Lucifer was undeterred and, getting to his feet, gave her a standing ovation. After a few moments, he ceased in his applause.

"That was beautiful." he said, breaking the new silence that had fallen between them.

"Um, I'm sorry." Y/n's gaze fell back to the piano.

"No! No no no!" Lucifer exclaimed, jumping up onto the stage.

He kneeled before her, lifting her hands from her lap and taking them in his own. She turned to him, surprise drawing out the features of her face once again.

"Don't apologize for taking up space."

"I... I just didn't mean to disturb you is all. If you're looking for Charlie, she's out at the movies with everyone else."

"I was but, I can talk to her later, when she gets back. You didn't disturb me at all, Y/n. As I said, it was beautiful. It was..."

He trailed off, the smile slipping from his face.

"Oh fuck!" Y/n exclaimed, "I didn't mean to upset you! I'm really sorry, what can I do to make it better?"

"You didn't upset me." Lucifer shook his head, "You just... somehow managed to put words to the very things I've been struggling with the past couple years."

A smaller, much kinder and more genuine smile made its way onto his face.

"If you'd like to play more, I'd love to hear it."

Y/n's cheeks flushed red again.

"Theres no pressure." Lucifer shrugged, "Just giving you the option."

"An audience of one... well, it's a little intimidating." she admitted bashfully, "I'm used to the faceless mob of the crowd."

"I can see why. You have an undeniable gift."

"I guess... I don't know. Charlie just said it might help me process stuff. To play again, I mean."

"Was she right?"

Y/n paused in thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I think she might have been. My chest does feel a little lighter now."

"Then play."

"Um, mister... king of Hell? Sir?"

Lucifer laughed.

"You can just call me by my name. No formalities necessary. 'Mister king of Hell sir' was my fathers name."

Y/n laughed lightly at his terrible joke. The sound sparked a sudden joy in Lucifer's chest, one he hadn't felt in quite a long time.

"Well, Lucifer." she began again, stumbling a bit over his name.

"Yes?"

"I'll... um, I'll need my hands back. If I'm to keep playing."

"Wh..."

He looked down and his eyes widened. Lucifer hadn't realized he had still held her hands in his. Immediately he dropped them, getting to his feet and looking away in mild embarrassment.

"Sorry, about that."

"Don't apologize for existing." Y/n parroted his earlier words.

When he turned back to her, it was to find she was smiling slightly.

"How bad would it be if I said sorry again right now?"

"You'd be sounding like me."

"Lets make a deal then: no sorries unless something is actually wrong."

"What if I can't tell if your mad at me or not?"

Lucifer looked down at the seated demon. In not one of his wildest dreams could he ever imagine being mad at her but, that wasn't exactly something he could say.

"Then you can always ask."

"And you promise you wont lie to me?"

"I promise."

"Promise promise?"

"Yes!"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding her head. Turning back to the piano, her hands found their place on the keys once again. She hesitated.

"I..." Y/n shot Lucifer a look over her shoulder, "Thank you."

"Thank you. There is some solace in knowing someone else out there feels the same way I do, if for different reasons."

"Yeah. There is, isn't there? Maybe part of our deal can be helping each other figure that all out too."

The suggestion had been half thought out. Y/n hadn't really meant to give it a voice, it had escaped her locked lips. She quickly turned back to the piano.

"Sorry. That was dumb."

"What did we just say about sorries!" Lucifer exclaimed, "No apologizing for existing. I think that suggestion sounds rather nice."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay. I... I'm actually going to play now. Is that okay?"

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer reappeared in the seat he had previously inhabited. He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knee.

"Whenever your ready."

----

Song is Perfect Doesn't Last by Beth Crowley as requested :)

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harunayuuka2060 · 6 months

Text

Lucifer: Solomon, I believe that Diavolo has already given you a warning.

Solomon: I'm simply taking my friend back to our homeland.

Lucifer: What homeland? Devildom is their home now.

Solomon: Looks like you haven't received the news yet.

Solomon: I made a pact with this demon. They're mine.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: Why are you addressing MC like they're a stranger?

Solomon: *gives him a sad smile* My friend has become a stranger.

Solomon: No affection towards anyone. They will only blindly follow their master.

Solomon: This is... what my friend has become.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: Are you telling me-

Solomon: You made a mistake. MC will never exist anymore. And also, please set Barbatos free.

Solomon: Since he has no one to protect now. *walks past him with MC in his arms*

Lucifer: ...

Michael: How did it go, Luke?

Luke: ...It's finished.

Michael: *smiles* Well done, Luke. *patting his head*

Luke: ...

Michael: Anyway, I'll clean up everything for you. So take some rest.

Luke: You don't have to. MC has been taken care of.

Michael: What do you mean?

Luke: Father instructed to not leave anything.

Luke: I did what was told to me.

Michael: ...

Michael: Raphael, you won't believe this-

Michael: ...

Michael: Raphael?

Raphael: Yes?

Michael: *he doesn't see the doll anywhere in his room*

Michael: Where are they, Raphael?

Raphael: Father instructed to not leave anything.

Raphael: Luke went here and found out about the doll, so he asked the other angels to burn it.

Michael: And you didn't stop him?

Raphael: I will never go against Father's orders.

Michael: But our plan, Raphael... What happened to our plan?

Raphael: ...

Raphael: You just have to let it go. Everything has ended now.

Michael: ...

Simeon: Thirteen...

Thirteen: Yes. I cannot sense them anymore.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: I'm glad...

Thirteen: You don't have to force yourself, Simeon.

Thirteen: You can mourn. I won't stop you.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: I will take my leave. Thank you for everything, Thirteen.

Thirteen: *nods* *and watches him walk away*

Thirteen: ...

Thirteen: That's better. *tears streaming down her face*

Thirteen: I'm glad for you, MC... But I will miss you so much...

*Somewhere in the human world.*

Raphael: You should never go outside alone. If I'm not here, lock the doors and windows.

Child MC: Where are you going, Rapha?

Raphael: To work.

Child MC: Okay. *smiles* Take care, Rapha.

Raphael: *nods*

Theo: Raphael, I want you to take care of MC.

Raphael: Father, didn't you-

Theo: Yes. However, erasing their memories is similar to death. Wouldn't you agree?

Raphael: ...

Raphael: Yes.

Theo: To avoid the same thing from happening again, I've set a condition that will never be broken.

Raphael: What is it, father?

Theo: No one should know who they are other than you. If any of your brothers recognize them, they will die, and their life will start over.

Theo: To protect them, they shouldn't be loved nor love someone too much.

Theo: Do you understand what I'm saying, Raphael?

Raphael: ...

Raphael: Yes, father. Thank you for trusting me for this task.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me raphael #obey me michael #obey me theo

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reiderwriter · 5 months

Text

My Love Is Mine All Mine

Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕

Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.

Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!

Masterlist || Series Playlist

Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen.

He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy.

You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you.

He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze.

It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer.

The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare.

The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself.

Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love.

You accepted understanding from him, though.

When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage.

He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein.

But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before.

“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.”

It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down.

“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled.

“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?”

You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over.

You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess.

“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?”

“I think so.”

“Then set up the board and let's play.”

He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly.

More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did.

You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end.

You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left.

The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages.

But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there.

“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag.

You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.

He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours.

“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-”

“What?”

He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first.

“I live down the hall.”

You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall.

“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had.

Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing.

Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.

One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day.

“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying.

“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.”

“I have three PhD's-”

“And still you haven't seen Clueless?”

You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition.

Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work.

You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.

What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways.

He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe.

Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you.

You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back.

Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other.

You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered.

But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again.

The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway.

You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.

You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.

“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper.

Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause.

“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind.

As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.

Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another.

“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be.

“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips.

You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights.

“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon.

“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world.

“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest.

His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you.

Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.

Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours.

It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right.

He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again.

When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair.

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch.

“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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sixstepsaway · 7 months

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so here's the thing

i've seen a bunch of people say on twitter and stuff how... ed's behavior is very abusive and his anger is dangerous and he isn't romantic lead material because of it

and i get where they're coming from

but to me the main issue isn't putting ed in the position of a romantic lead, but not crafting the narrative around his characterization so that it allows for a spicy romantic pirates-in-love narrative instead of...whatever this is.

i'm going to try and explain this. idk if i'll do well but i'll try

the way she show presents stede is as an innocent baby who isn't really equipped for pirate life. he goes into a fugue/disassociative state whenever there's any real violence, apparently, and needs protecting by other characters when things get too rough - for example when ed is telling ned lowe not to take the poker to stede.

that's fine! it's honestly adorable to see a masc character being so soft around the edges and being protected by other characters this way.

(i'm not going to touch on stede's... eh... not great characterization this season rn)

then there's izzy, who is shown as a bit violent, a bit rough around the edges. he's more likely to draw a sword or throw a punch or hit someone with a chair or take a punch like a champ. violence is just part of life for him and that's okay, it just Is, from small things like smacking stede on the ass to bigger things like being wall slammed, it's not all that big or bad for violence to happen around and with him, he tends to give as good as he gets (there's some nuance here but i'm talking the macro themes not the micro of what izzy does vs is done to him)

and finally there's ed

ed is presented as violent (stabbing knives at guys, telling fang to use the snail fork etc) and used to a life of violence, and then in season 2 he's presented as really violent, his anger coming out in dangerous and terrifying ways

and frankly, i'd be super into it if he and izzy were the main ship and that twisted dynamic from the first two episodes of s2 was explored and fleshed out into something deeper

friends to enemies to lovers who fight and fuck. angry pirates who lay hands on each other, who break the whole ship with each other in the heat of passion.

except instead, s2 gives us... abuse. it gives us izzy cringing and lowering his head and trying to protect the kids crew from ed's angry outbursts.

so when stede comes back and he's still soft around the edges and ed headbutts him and it's deliberate, it's... not a great look, and the vibes are a bit skewed

if stede fought back, if when ed struck out at him he struck back, if they fought rather than it being one-sided, if it was friends to enemies to lovers and not presented as healthy, but maybe they can work their way there, who knows, maybe even more like anne bonnie and mary read because hey, they were doing something very similar?

except they were both into it. they were both enjoying the fighting and the fucking and the burning down the house.

stede's not enjoying it.

i cannot describe how much i hate this sequence just because of the way stede flinches

anne and mary don't!! mary jumps at the unexpected bang but she doesnt flinch, she doesn't cover her face like she thinks the vase will be coming for her not the wall and anne? looks so into it

and the thing is that in real life, no, you don't want to date someone who throws shit around, or headbutts you

but in fiction when it's two fucked up people doing this shit together like anne and mary?

that can be fun.

but instead what we've been given is stede flinching and apologizing to ed and then all of ed's...what, semi-redemption???? is done away from the other collection of people he abused, and then he spends some time on a fishing boat wearing a dog collar and everything is fine because he's good now and won't be doing anything bad ever again

and it's just... poor writing. the vibes are rancid.

i spent a really big chunk of time between s1 and s2 defending ed. i kept saying how what he did to izzy by making him eat his toe wasn't abuse, it was a one-off and abuse isn't a one-off thing it's a pattern, and then s2 made it a pattern.

explicitly. explicitly a pattern.

not just one toe but three.

jim saying "you're in an unhealthy relationship with blackbeard"

and all ed offered izzy was a "sorry about your leg" which might've been fine if izzy survived and they could work on this more, but instead that's all the apology and closure izzy will ever get

ed threw a chair and a vase and made stede flinch in fear and stede was right to do that. what part of any of this implies this will never happen again? that stede won't press the wrong button at some point and be on the receiving end? none of it

and if we'd been presented with a s2 stede bonnet who could handle himself and stand up for himself and fight back, then maybe i could imagine that turning into a weird sexy fucked up anne/mary like thing and maybe that could be why they put that episode in, but instead it feels like that episode was going, "look, see, ed's violence is fine because these two are fine with it with each other"

but stede isn't

ed and izzy or ed and stede in an unhealthy battle of a relationship could be such a fun, interesting and downright sexy thing to watch unfold on tv, and could honestly end somewhere far more down the chill end of the spectrum, but that's not what we've been given here

i cannot argue that ed isn't an abuser anymore, and not just of izzy but of the whole crew. he terrified frenchie.

it's not good writing to try and lean into the idea that ed and the pirates are violent and live a life of violence, so it's okay that ed's been violent, while simultaneously presenting his violence as traumatic and abusive, and then less than three episodes later saying oh it's fine now, he's just a little meow meow who can do no wrong, see?

especially considering they had him murdering people at the end of the season. and sure, you can say the english are just cannon fodder and they dont 'count', but they did before. ed explicitly did not kill before, and that included the english, or the spanish, or anyone else. so either they count or they don't, but flipping him on a dime makes no sense.

ALSO

having ed be the son of an abusive man who threw plates at his mother and made her cringe and then having ed kill his father to protect his mother and then a season later having ed become the kind of man who throws chairs and vases and makes his love interest cringe is, again, not bloody optimal

i want to say again i dont CARE about tv always presenting healthy relationships or tv always giving us aspirational goals. i want messy fucked up dynamics and terrible people making terrible choices, and still, to this day, i fucking love ed teach. i would honestly love to have seen them continue with ed's darkness and bring stede into it and see where they went with that, to have stede kill ned lowe and not just bury his feelings in ed but get off on it, enjoy the violence, and see where that led, but no

and so instead all we end up with is a protagonist who is being set up for a lifetime of abuse from an intimate partner, and a romantic lead who abuses his love interests (and yes. izzy is a love interest, he is set up like one and positioned like one and treated like one), frightens his love interests with his violence, is erratic and most of all inconsistently written. he was so sorry about scaring fang as though he hadn't been deliberately terrifying the whole crew for fuck knows how long? what?!

the whole fandom has spent so long saying, "no no, i know stede bonnet irl was a slave owner, but ofmd is using the names and not any real piracy, it's more disney piracy, you know? so that kind of stuff doesnt exist!" and then they flipped around and went "blackbeard is blackbeard and so he is evil and does all these horrible things" and i dont know how to rationalize the two sides of that because it feels so out of place

i'm getting rambly, this isnt a particularly well constructed thought process, i just feel like we were robbed both of a toxic, violent relationship that could be fun to see explored on tv and a soft and sweet love story between two middle aged men exploring their first loves in one fell swoop and there's no way for s3 to bring either of those things back because they got utterly torpedoed by making ed a horrible person

ugh

#ofmd critical #i hate that i'm using this tag now :c #edward teach #ed teach #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #i guess #izzy hands #stede bonnet

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ja3hwa · 5 months

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♡ 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♡

【Synopsis】 : It's been so long since you've seen your boys. And when the youngest comes knocking on your door, the new life you had only just managed to build comes crashing down.

『Word count』 : 4.8k

-> Genre: Mafia au. Angst. Fluff.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Ot8 Ateez x Reader

[Warnings] : lots of heart ache. The reader is beside herself a lot. Blood. Gore. Death. Torture. Reader gets kidnapped. Tears. Hugging. Lots of cry. Grovelling (we stan a good grovel). And yeah, lots of angst but fluffy at the end. Kissing. Mingi got a dirty mind. Whoops.

Note: uh, so hi. Ahha It's been a while... I finally decided to actually finish the alt ending of this fic. I've had people ask for more, and I honestly forgot about it. But then i saw someone send in THIS request, and it made me want to finish this. So this can be read as a stand-alone. But if you want to read part 1 and the other ending. Go ahead, otherwise enjoyyyyy ♡

Part one | Other Ending

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You were alone. Wandering through life with nothing to hold onto. You were going underwater, and no one was around to help you above the heavy waves. You were numb. Heartbreak ridding you of happiness… Or so you thought.

Through a bottle or two... Maybe three or four. You found at the end of it. You were just as unhappy as you were before you took the first sip. You needed a change. A change of scenery. A change of personality. A completely new life. So there you were two towns over. Maybe not a whole country away from the old you, but this was just as good. A new apartment. New job. Architectural design. You enjoyed it, so dearly. It became something that kept you going. That kept you waking up. You were fighting for a glimpse of happiness in mornings that were still hard, and nights were just as restless as ever.

You were alone. Yes. But you tried.

It's been two whole years. You think you’d forgotten everything by now. But the biggest, deepest pain didn’t seem to heal as quickly as everyone says it does. Fucking Liars…

You were having a break from your long hours of sketching a new mansion floor plan, a private owner wanted it done within the week and for a heavy price and as much as it was a distraction you couldn't help but think how the design the private buyer seemed to want a floor plan that resembled something that one of your old lovers would have loved. The vintage vibe with a green and gold theme matched Mingi and Yunho perfectly. Your brain almost thought maybe they were the private buyer. But why would they go to you after what you had ‘apparently done’ to them? Before you could dwell on the idea anymore, the sound of your doorbell broke your gaze from the large sketch in front of you.

You question why someone would be visiting you at this hour, given that most of your clients would email you beforehand and your ‘friends’ would text. So, who could possibly be at your door? Your heart thumped strangely as if your body knew who was beyond the large oak before you. A ball started to form at the base of your throat. Was this anxiousness you were feeling? Gripping the silver handle, you creek the door open slowly, and when your gaze met the other person you feel your heart stop.

“Hi…”

You looked at the man with a dumbfounded expression, tilting your head in confusion. Hi? After all these years, hi is what he starts with. What does he take you for? A hopeless woman needing a man to catch her when she falls?

You go to shut the door without a second thought, but he catches it in his strong arms. The same arms that used to hold you. Shield you from all the danger―no stop you didn’t need them when you were completely broken and you most certainly don’t need them now.

“Please let me explain. Honey, I just…” He was scrambling to find his words, his breath catching his throat like he was running a marathon prior to this interaction. “I wanted to see you…tell you.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Jongho.” You finally spoke, silently yelling at yourself for sounding so shaky in your voice when you wanted to be mad, tone-deaf, blunt. But here you are, wanting to cry cause of the anger surging through you. Why must you always cry when you get mad. “You don’t get to come here after almost two fucking years, call me honey and tell me how much you miss me and think I’ll just fall back into your arms as if nothing happened.”

“T-that’s not what I want nor expect from you. I just want―I don’t care what you want. Now get off my porch.” You cut him off, slamming the door in his face before breaking down the minute you heard the latch click. Your legs buckle, sliding down the door before your knees hit the ground, sobbing into your hands. Your heart was breaking all over again, just like the night you left. You wanted nothing more than to run after him, beg him to hold you. But you couldn’t. They hurt you so much. How do you even begin to forgive them for what happened all those years ago?

Through the next months, you kept receiving letters, flowers, and gift boxes. Even teddy bears. Why would they give you teddy bears? You think they would have known you from being with them for so long. Throwing yet another soft plush toy on the ever-growing pile that sat in your office. You were beginning to become sick of it. You thought after you yelled at Jongho, he and the others would have gotten the hint, but you guess being dumped by eight mob bosses wasn’t as easy as you thought.

Sighing, you click your tongue, looking at the stack of letters you have yet to burn. You can’t even be bothered to open them, not wanting to even listen to anything they might have to say. But another part of you was curious. Maybe one letter couldn’t hurt, right? Reaching for the one on the top, your fingers grasp the small paper. It’s rough against your skin. Like the paper was made from a poor-quality tree. Odd? Why would your ex-lovers gift you such cheap gifts? Not that you were expecting high-priced gifts, but they had enough money to buy half the world, so you think them getting something with a heavier price tag wouldn’t matter. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t adding up.

But before you could think of anything else, a loud, almost anger-filled knock comes from the front door. Your body was suddenly on high alert. Goosebumps erode all over your skin as a sickening feeling clouds your head. Grabbing your letter opener―just in case―you walk slowly towards the noise. Thoughts ran through your head in time with the beats of your racing heart. You knew walking towards the suspicious noise was a bad idea, but what else could you do? Whoever was there would know you were home by the lights being on or how your car is parked in the driveway. You couldn’t just pretend you weren’t home, no matter how hard you wanted to try.

Your fingers graze the door handle, feeling your breath hitch. You twist it slowly until you hear the creek of the door hinges swing inwards. You brace yourself for whoever it was, but what you are met with confused you. The porch was empty?

No one in sight…

But you certainly heard a loud knock. You were going crazy… were you? You huff, straightening up, feeling relief wash over you. Maybe it was some kids pranking the neighbours again, and you were their target for the day. Who knows. You click the door closed, but you lock it this time because even though you see no threat, you wanted to be sure. Entering your office again you walk over to the letters in order to continue what you were doing but when your eyes gaze over the pieces of paper you notice the one you were going to open wasn’t on the table. Where did you go? You thought, placing the letter opener on the table so you could place your hand on the edge of the oak desk so you could look under it. You looked everywhere and couldn’t seem to find it. It was like it had vanished. But…was that a flash? Something caught your eye.

Looking at the teddy bears, you see the letter sitting in the lap of one of the plushies. Tilting your head you notice a little red flash like as if there was a recor―Your eyes snap open stumbling back slightly before turning to run but your body is met with a very broad object and then before you can get any baring on what or who was in behind of you, everything went black.

It was like the world was spinning, your head pinging with an aching pain from the left side of your skull. You tried to open your eyes and look around, but you quickly figured out you were blindfolded and bound to what seemed to be a chair. Typical. Why is it that whenever someone gets kidnapped, they get tied to an old wooden chair? Why couldn’t it be a couch or one of those soft deck chairs? You could hear some scampering around you, three, maybe four people had entered the room you were in. You can smell their shitty cheap cologne that they most likely think bend women at the knees. You knew what kind of people they were before even seeing them.

“Well well. Looks like my men have caught a pretty mouse of us to play with.” The heavy voice echoed around the room, hinting to you that you were most likely in an open area. A warehouse, maybe? “You are gonna be my ticket to freedom songbird.”

You had to cringe at the pet name that fell from his lips. The name you were known as in the mafia world. More specifically, Ateez’s Songbird. You tried to sit still, hoping to show a fraudulent sense of confidence, but in reality, you were petrified. You no longer had the eight men you loved dearly to save you. Then again, you had no one to save you. Most of your friends lived out of town and wouldn’t even come to the rescue if you begged. You were alone with these men. Blindfolded and at their will. The man you assume was talking before lifted your blindfold off, seeing your eyes suddenly gaze upon the piercing light from the headlamp above you. You can see your suspicions were correct, four men ranging from sizable jock build to more lean ones but in the end, they were all ghastly, staring you down as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

“I want to know where Ateez is….” The grunt that escaped from the immoral male smelled of booze and low-quality cigars. His eyes were painted his redness, as if he hadn't slept in days, weeks even. He was boarding insanity at this rate by his expression. “Well come on, I know you know where they are, and to be blunt, I need them dead. You know business and all.” He rambles, walking around your figure while you sit there listening to his utter bullshit. His words remind you of when a villain in the story starts blabbering to the captor about how they needed to defeat the hero in order to take over the world. But in this case, both sides are just as villainous as each other, and the “world” that’s referenced is stocks… weapons, contraband, drugs, money. The list goes on and on.

“Why are you so quiet, Songbird? Protecting your lovers?”

Now that one made you laugh, shaking your head in annoyance. Argh, what you would give to be home with a strong whiskey in hand right now. Your reaction sent a shocked expression to the disgusting man's face. He expected you to plea, beg for him to not hurt Ateez, to not hurt the loves of your life and yet here you sit, laughing right in his face like he had just said the most entertaining thing to you.

“I don’t know where they are.” You finally spoke, a sadistic smile painted your face. To never backed down from his gaze, almost trying to intimidate him with your blazed stare. “Why would I know, or care where they are? They don’t care about me.”

His paced. Fuck. He thought. Did his men really just kidnap you for no reason? He was going to shoot someone for this. He began to sweat, you were his only hope of getting the men he hates, attention. And now you were useless. His hand raked through his hair, coming down to scratch the stubble on his chin. What is he going to do with you now? Looking back at you his eyes slid down your body from head to toe, as if he was a predator sizing up his prey. You felt a sudden uneasiness. Maybe telling the man that held your life in his hand you were useless, wasn’t your greatest idea.

He moved away, whispering to one of his men before he sent him off, turning back to you straight after. He stepped one foot in front of the other in a slow and formed way, as if he had come up with the best plan in history. His devious smile brought a lump in your throat and the way he leaned down in front of you, placing both hands on the chair arms so he was face to face with you. “Well, little dove. We can find other uses for you, hmm?”

An idea popped into your head, and maybe it was your hotheadedness or your sheer stubbornness to do things out of spite. Bringing your body back slacked against the chair frame, you watched as his smirk grew, thinking he had finally managed to scare you, but before he could react, you whipped your head forward. Your forehead smashes against his nose with a sickening crack, and a blood-curtailing scream follows. The man gripped his nose with a sharp hiss. You could see blood pouring down like a waterfall from his nose, spilling all over his clothes and floor. Your blurred vision and ache in your skull doesn’t last long as you shake your head. You can see his men crowding around him to see if he is okay.

“Bitch!” He swore, standing up straight from his crouched position to stomp over to you and slap you clean in your face, making you and the chair fall over, smacking your side against the concrete. You can feel your wrist twist before popping out of place from the impact. Your elbow scraped against the harsh floor along with your arm, making you feel the sensation of your blood escaping through the broken skin. A cut on the top of your head also spilled some blood onto the floor making a headache begin to form. Maybe this wasn’t your best idea.

“Get the kit. I wanna teach this whore a lesson.” He spat out some blood that spilled into his mouth from his nose.

“whore? I thought it was bitch? Or as it little dove?” you need to shut your mouth but you choose to keep pushing his buttons. Idiot. He kicked you square in the gut making you hitch your breath before almost coughing up a lung at the pain. Your watered eyes could now barely see as you tried to blink the tears away. You spot out the corner of your eye a bag of what you could only guess, torture tools. Great, now you really fucked up.

You had passed out at least two or three times, and every time, you were woken up by ice-cold water to the face. The temperature of the water stung your opened wounds and burned at your hot red flesh. Time was absent to you, not knowing how long you’d been sitting, tied to the comfortable chair. God, your limbs were gonna ache once you were able to get out. that’s if you get out.

Maybe you will die here. The irony. Dying in a place of crime in a life of anguish when you so desperately tried to run from it. To try so hard to clean up and forget the darkness that lingered in your past. But in truth, you missed. As sicken as it sounded. You missed the violence, the thrill, the wealth and power. You missed being feared by your enemies and adored by your lovers. Call you sadistic for finding nostalgia in torture, but it was true. Even if you were the one who was currently being hurt, you couldn’t help but smile weakly.

“I found her!!” A muffled voice and sounds of gunshots echoed around you. But you were so dazed you couldn’t seem to pinpoint the noise. Your eyes were fuzzed, and blood tainted your view. Everything was happening so fast until you saw the stillness.

“Y-yuyu?” Your eyes glossed, seeing a blurred figure that resembled Yunho. But it couldn’t be him, could it? You must be dreaming, finally getting ready to leave this plane, but why would your guardian angel look like Yunho?

“I’ve got you, baby. Hold on.” You had already passed out for the final time before you would hear another word slip from your ex-lover's mouth. His rough hands gripped the rope that bounded your hands, cutting it away with his pocket knife. He snaked his arm under your legs and on your lower back, picking you up from the old wooden chair with ease. Your blood had pooled on the floor and now trailed behind Yunho as he jogged with you in his arms. His suit was now tainted red from you, but he couldn’t care less. The only thing on his mind was getting you to safety and maybe killing some assholes along the way.

To say you couldn’t explain the pain surging through your body was correct. You had never experienced such torture before, and man, you were definitely regretting some of the stupid shit you had said to the low-life mob boss earlier. Your vision was still so blurred, and your head was ringing. You could faintly see a bedside with a clock on it. But the face was dark like it was unplugged. You know this place. You remembered the smell of vanilla and pine. You remembered the dark spruce bed frame and emerald forest green bed sheets. You weren’t thinking when you started to snuggle into the bedding, inhaling the comforting scent.

You missed his smell. You missed being in this bed. God, you didn’t realize how much you missed them. You wanted to be strong. You didn’t want them, didn’t want to forgive them. But the comfort…. tears were falling from your cheeks onto the silk pillow. You were sobbing, and your mind was beside itself. One part screaming at you, telling you to suck it up and leave. But on the other side, you were so tired. So, so…tired…. and all you wanted was your boys.

“Sugar…” You froze, hearing the man that belonged to the bedroom. His deep voice, velvet and smooth. You could hear a crack in it like he had been in tears prior. You didn’t move, frozen with fear, because you knew if you looked at him in those beautiful brown eyes, you would be done for. “Baby, are you awake?”

He knew you were, but he didn’t want to approach you without knowing if it was okay. He knew by the way you looked at them last time you saw them that you had feared them. Something he never wanted to see in your beautiful innocent gaze. Torment that he and the others caused. He would never forgive himself, so he understood if you never did either. “I want to go home…”

You didn’t know what else to say. So god damned scared to stay cause if you did, you might not leave. And you couldn’t do that. What they put you through. You couldn’t possibly begin a relationship with them again… right? “Mingi, please take me home…” you felt so small calling for him, you didn’t want to be surrounded by his scent but at the same time, you didn’t so much as budge from the covers. You didn’t want him to be near you, but yet when he sat down on the edge of the bed, your body was screaming to be held by him. Everything was so messed up. Why did it have to end up like this? Why was this your ending with them?

Mingi couldn’t find his wording, his hand coming up to your covered shoulders, putting a firm but gentle touch on it. He wanted nothing more than to hold you, kiss you. Make love to you while repeating how sorry he was over and over while he caused you to come over and over. “I missed you…” His voice cracked. “We all have…” better now than never to explain himself, right? “After the first couple of weeks, we found out that those pictures were faked. A way to manipulate us into crumbling our empire. They thought if they could put us all at each other's throats. I guess they won…”

“How did you find they were fake?” You asked in a whisper, keeping your face covered with the bed sheet.

“Another anonymous tip went off that San was ‘sneaking’ around with some guy. But Wooyoung was quick to debunk it cause San was with him that whole week. So we quickly found out that this was a ploy to rip us all apart… which worked.” Mingi regretted every word he spoke. They managed to find out San was innocent quicker than you. San was lucky he had an alibi, though unlike you, that was away without their knowledge, just trying to buy a gift for your anniversary... god, they were so stupid...

“It...Worked?” You were confused about that since it only caused you to leave. From your knowledge, the boys were all still together? Mingi sighed, standing up, which caused you to peek out from your hiding spot to see him pouring a whiskey from the small bar in the corner of the room. Before downing the amber-coloured liquor.

“Seonghwa and Hongjoong became obsessed with work. They’ve become biter…” He took another shot of the harsh liquor. “Cruel… The number of people they’ve put in the dungeons just from looking in their direction wrong.”

You felt sick, flashes of them yelling at you, cursing you. The image of them with that anger plus a gun. You felt sorry for any of the suckers that were unlucky enough to gaze at them wrong. You tangled your fingers into the soft sheets, playing with the velvet fabric. You note how the hand that had popped out earlier was still slightly swollen and numb, making you barely able to feel the fabric on your right fingertips. “W-What about the others…”

“Jongho spent most of his time looking for you. Spying on you. Seeing all the achievements you have made.” He sounded proud of you for a moment like he sought knowledge of your life from the youngest. “Yeosang drove himself into his computer work, taking on small tasks in the outer parts of the city. If we hadn’t said we brought you home, he would have still been hiding somewhere.” He flicked his hand in the air, scoffing slightly.

“San and Wooyoung changed the most when you left. They became lost without you, distant… different. Like the sunshine was ripped from their life, and darkness consumed them.”

He took a seat at the end of the bed again. You had sat up, crossing your legs, eyeing his figure. He has gotten bigger than the last time you’ve seen him. He’s bulked up, and from what your memory could recall, Yunho was bigger as well. The way his arms felt being around you as he carried you to safety were definitely bulkier. “And what about you? Yunho?”

He huffed, glancing up at you. His hand was so close to your covered legs. So close yet so far. “Yunho and I are…fine. We missed you.”

You knew fine meant they were both struggling just as much as the others. You shifted, moving a little closer to him. Your heart was still aching, but your body was craving to feel some warmth. and at this point, you were so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of running. Tired of anyone telling you who or how to live your life? who cares if you run back to your exes? Who cared if you decided you move back with them? It’s not like you have friends or family that would tell you otherwise. All you had was them. Eight cruel mob bosses who would do anything for you and who were scared when they thought you had betrayed them. “I missed you too.”

His wide, glossy eyes snapped to yours. Like he had just heard someone spill the secret to life itself. His mouth went dry, a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to spill his guts about how much he missed your smile and missed your laugh. Missed the way you would tease him for being too clingy, but yet you were just as clingy in the next breath. He missed the way your body would melt against his on cold nights, searching for warmth. Or how you would fit so perfectly around his….

“Min…You mind is wondering…” You knew his tells, and you knew he was sinking into his mind.

“I uh…I’m just trying to find the words to say I’m sorry without it sounding like it was an excuse.”

“I believe you’re sorry, mingi. I believe you are all sorry. It doesn’t change or fix what happened. And it’s going to take time for me to trust you all again. But…” You leaned over, placing your hand on his shaking thigh. “I do forgive you.”

He broke.

“We don’t deserve your forgiveness. We don’t deserve you…” Tears were falling down his red cheeks, making you jump to wipe each one away without a second thought. You hadn’t realized how close you were until you noted the smell of the whiskey on his breath and the warmth of his body radiating to yours.

“You might not deserve me. But who is here to tell me to stay away…” he gave you a smile. You didn’t want to forgive him or the others fully per se, but you did want this push-and-pull game. This cruel twisted game of forbidden love.

“The others are going to want to see you…” He spoke cautiously, afraid you might recoil away from him if he spoke too loudly. You just sighed, lowering your hands into your lap once again, sitting back. You could feel your wounds with every movement, but it wasn’t as painful as before. They must have given you some painkillers prior to when you were passed out. You were about to speak when a sudden thud was heard, quickly followed by a bunch of hushed whispers. You couldn’t help but smirk at the childishness, for angry mafia kings they sure know how to act like goofballs.

“They’re outside aren’t they?” You cocked your brow, giving Mingi a simple straight expression. He just rubbed the back of his neck with a small whisper of, ‘Sorry.’

You rolled your eyes, telling him to let them in. Your heart might have been racing faster than a race car, but you tried to hide the growing anxiousness with a plain expression. You were going to hear them all out. You were going to hug San and Wooyoung as they sobbed on the end of your bed with mumblers of ‘I’m sorry.’ over and over again. You were going to give Yeosang a knowing look, so he knew that his silence was accepted and that you weren’t mad. You were going to thank Yunho for saving you, and he was going to kiss your palm as you held his cheek briefly.

And you were going to cry.

Sob at how Hongjoong sat on his knees, grovelling for your forgiveness and pleading how he was so messed up for not believing you. You’d all cry seeing the leader so vulnerable. And Seonghwa. Your darling, hwa… you would see such sorrow in his eyes. But you would let him kiss your cheek, hold you for a moment. Let him have you for a moment while you get your mind into check.

This was not a redemption. This was not forgetting. But a new chance.

Not a new chapter but a new book entirely.

You were going to grow, do your own thing. Be with them while you find yourself. And maybe, just maybe. You’d take Jongho’s offer all those years ago…and finally say yes…

— ♡

701 notes · View notes

fan-goddess · 3 months

Note

hello!could you write a reaction to the dragon's house × !fem!reader, when she was flying over the sea with the dragon and one of the enemies was on the ship and shot from a crossbow.

(she and her dragon are alive but slightly injured)

Aegon,Aemond,Jacaerys Velaryon-romantic love

Alicent,Daemon,Rhaenyra,Helaena,Laenor Valeryon-platonic love

sorry if there are any mistakes! I hope everything is clear💝I've actually been thinking about this for a long time💥

HOTD characters reactions of when reader is hurt

The summary: The characters each find out during your usual flight around kingslanding that you were shot down by some people belonging to a certain group that hate the Targaryen traditions and believe it to be an abomination.

A/N: They’re all personalised and hopefully different backstories, but have given reader the same dragon in all of them as making dragons are hard. The wound is also pretty much same, but the severity is altered in some places. In the platonic ones I made reader call them mother or father, since I made them a parent. Some of these are very different as I expanded on some more and developed others. You can tell which.

This ain’t fully proofread we die like Luke!

Taglist: @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee @targaryenbarbie

Warning: Wounds, various gore mentions, incest, kissing, tried to make it gender neutral and lack of descriptions but there are some scattered about! (if I miss any let me know)

Aegon Targaryen:

When Aegon heard the news from his mother who’d rushed to inform him of your sudden injury, he all but sprinted to the infirmary where you were being treated by one of the leading maesters.

“My love, are you alright?!? I am so sorry my love I should have insisted to accompany you! When I find the man who did this to you I shall rip off his head and feed his insides to Sunfyre and Shrykos!” He declares, the words tumbling quickly with how much rage flooded his body at the sight of your wounded self. You could barely keep up with him if you were being honest.

“Aegon, my sweet husband, it is fine! ‘Tis merely a flesh wound!” You insist, yet wincing as soon as the reassurance falls from your lips.

“And yet here you are heavily bleeding, and in very much pain! You should take some milk of the poppy!” Aegon says, looking around to find the bottle, even when you try and insist you were fine. “If you were fine you’d be with me, in our bed, safe and unharmed! So don’t argue with me wife or my wrath will be misguided!”

You merely humour him by sipping slightly at the small contents of the cup the maester had passed to you. Yet still, you can’t deny that the liquid had its desired effects, as your previously aching wound now significantly dulls down to a mere small throb once in a while.

“Now wife. Tell me who hurt you.” Aegon demands, his eyebrows furrowed and his grip tightened on your body as he insured you would be unable to get away from him.

“Just some idiotic men thinking themselves higher than us my love. They shot at me and Shrykos from their ship when we least expected it with bloody crossbones of all things, and somehow barely managed to skim us. Yet they somehow did not expect the very large dragon to get angry that their rider and themself was just attacked with no prior warning. Shrykos certainly made sure to enact on our lovely families motto. By the time she was done with them, there was nothing left but fire and blood sinking to the bottom of the sea.”

Aegons face slowly turns more and more relaxed, and by the end of your tale he’s practically grinning for joy as he kisses you deep on the lips. “That’s my bloodthirsty wife!” He mumbles against your lips, forgetting all about his past aggressions to make you feel as safe and as loved as you could be in his arms. The maester that continues to awkwardly stand their waiting to finish wrapping your arm be damned.

Aemond Targaryen:

He finds out before anyone else, as he tends to wait for you after your dragon rides if he’s unable to go with you that day. So when you come back later than usual with blood dripping down your arm and half an arrow sticking out of you, he certainly is very angry, and very much willing to get on Vhagar and hunt down and kill those who dared harm his wife. Yet he knows he must stay calm for you.

He notices how you try and mumble your dragons name under your breath, so when he makes it past one of the dragon keepers he makes sure to let them know that Shrykos may be in need of some healing. He assumes by the way your mumbles quieten after he says the order that that was what you were trying to tell him. Yet when he actually looks at you Aemond quickly realises you’ve actually fainted from blood loss.

Aemond rushes you to the Maesters room where he insists only the best work on you, even though he couldn’t afford to be picky what with you bleeding out in his arms and all. Though after a few threats and lot of claims regarding his dragon, the maesters quickly manage to remove the arrow and stem the bleeding whilst you continued to lay unconscious on the healing bed. Aemond stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand tightly in an act of reassurance. Even though you were still unconscious.

He stayed with you the entire time though. Still holding your hand even when he fell asleep. When you eventually woke, three days after you were injured, Aemond was sure to reassure you that you were safe. Even though by the tenth time you were very ready to smack him.

“Tell me ābrazȳrys who did this too you. Vhagar has been ready for the taste of flesh since I found you. I am sure Shrykos too is ready for the thrill of the chase of those who harmed both her and her rider. Tell me, so I can make sure we can tear them limb from limb.” His words drip malice, and yet there is distinct comfort within them. Aemond has never truly been able to show his affection towards you with displays of anything other than action. And in this moment, it just so happens that action involves heavy bloodshed and possible carnage.

“Those men who hale from the vale. The ones claiming our traditions to be an abomination. A sin in the eyes of the seven. They surprised me and Shrykos as we flew above the seas and got some good strikes. But don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon. Me and Shrykos made sure to burn them to blood and ash before we needed to flee back to kingslanding.” You attempt to smile to reassure your husband, but if anything it appears to make it worse as you wince at the pain suddenly flaring through your whole right arm.

Aemond stays quiet as he makes sure to force you to drink some milk of the poppy.

“Ābrazȳrys. If you were to die, I would have gone to the brink of insanity. I would’ve gone to those peoples homes and burned them all to the ground for what they have done to my wife. To the future mother of my children. They have harmed you though. The have scarred you. And for that offence alone, I cannot allow them a single more moments of breath. I cannot allow them to live.” Aemond storms off leaving you laying there in half shock and half admiration. You knew he would be true to his word. Which is why when not even a day had passed since Aemond had left, you’d heard whispers of what Aemond had done, and you smiled and thanked the gods for a husband like yours.

Jacaerys Velaryon:

If there was one characteristic you could say your husband embodied to the fullest, it would be loyalty. As no matter how many other women, maids and nobility alike, threw themselves at the future heirs feet he always ran back to you.

Even when other men such as the Lannister’s attempted to charm you with their admittedly horrible, yet according to them successful attempts, Jace was always there with a watchful eye, making sure all knew who you belonged too.

He was protective too. A dragon while not in appearance but definitely in spirit. Jace would always find a way to make sure you were safest whether you wanted him to be involved or not. Even this noon when you wanted to get one last dragon ride before dinner, Jace still insisted there was no need. Yet your stubbornness knew no bounds it seems, as while his back was turned you made quick speed to where Shrykos usually slept and flew her into the great distance. A mere speck in the sky before Jace knew what had happened.

You had started the flight laughing with the biggest grin on your face, eager to see the sights from the sky. Yet of course things turned worse as men from one of the many religious groups of the seven kingdoms took notice of you and your dragon, and decided to shoot you with their admittedly massive weapons.

You dodged the best you could, and yet with a scream from both you and Shrykos, you realised you were both hit.

“DRACARYS SHRYKOS! DRACARYS!” You screamed, satisfied when you hear the hells and the screams of the men and the ships bellow. With your good arm, you steer Shrykos to the direction of dragonstone and order the instructions, before all appears to go dark.

When you wake, all seems strangely normal. That is of course, before you see the giant bandaged wound that is your arm. You can see a hint of red peeking from the bandages and are about to see if you could rewrap it, before Jacaerys comes through and with wide eyes realises you are awake and well as you can be.

“My love!” He shouts, running over and encasing you in his arms. Not hearing the low hiss you make when his hands clasp around your still admittedly sore arm. “Where have you been!? You’re hurt!” He yells, finally taking noticing your blood that steadily pools to the surface. “Let us get you to the maesters!”

As much as it hurt you to have Jace pull you like he did, you merely let it all happen so not to cause an event bigger fuss of you than what he already is making. Yet when you get to the maesters chambers and nearly find yourself fainting, that’s when you suddenly understand your husbands worry.

When you wake up though, it’s the feeling of Jaces familiar warmth that settles you as you gaze on his sleeping form. Yet as you wake, so does he it seems. As not even a few minutes after you’ve woken Jace is quick to rise with you. His eyes wide and worried as they roam you for anymore possible injuries you may possibly somehow have hidden.

“Are you alright my love?!” He asks, his eyes still roaming for even a moment of weakness from you. “There maesters took care of your arm and the arrow. And I heard word from the dragon keepers who tell me Shrykos is healing dutifully from his wounds!”

“Good.” You simply say, hissing slightly as you sit up and try to keep yourself grounded. “I’d kill then if she wasn’t.”

Jacaerys laughs at your threat, and his face looks almost serene as he just looks at you. His eyes going soft as his hands continue to hold yours. It’d be an almost affectionate moment had it not been for the sudden flare up of pain in your arm.

“Fuck!” You yell, hissing once again as you’re reminded of why you’re even in the maesters room in the first place. “It is alright husband I’m fine!” You insist seeing the worry now marking his face.

“I will worry when I want.” He simply says, kissing you on the top of your head before moving to sit next to you on the bed. His head resting on yours as he puts his arms around you. Your eyes shutting as a sudden hit of exhaustion hits you, yet you welcome it fully as Jaces arms feel just so welcoming and calming.

Alicent Hightower:

Alicent had always been like a mother to you. Caring for you when you were sick and making sure that you were always in your highest possible health. It was probably why she’d insisted since you were young to fully call her mother, even though you were not biologically related to her.

Whenever she heard about even the slightest of injuries though, she always worried relentlessly about the damage. Which is why when you appeared before her clutching a bleeding wound from your shoulder, you’re quite honestly surprised she hadn’t dropped from shock.

“Oh my darling what has happened?!” She’d gasped, frozen in shock as she stood there not knowing what really to do.

“Bastards on their boats took a few shots at me and Shrykos whilst we were on our morn flight. They got two good shots at us to hurt us but don’t worry. Before we got here Shrykos managed to give them what was coming for them…” You groan, holding your shoulder in your hand that has now from the lack of adrenaline, has begun aching dramatically.

“Oh never mind the men I care only about you!” She fusses, coming closer before stopping half way, staring between your shoulder and your pained face. Maybe Alicent will drop from shock after all.

“SOMEBODY GET THE MAESTERS!” You hear a voice yell, before all appears to go dark before your eyes. When you wake though, it is as if the light is blinding you. You blink a few times to ground yourself, and it’s with a sudden surprise you realise that you feel a familiar warmth on your hand. You turn your head slightly, stiff from the lack of movement you think, and realise Alicent is staring at you with great worry on her face.

“Are you feeling alright my darling? The maesters have cleaned and sewed up your wound, but according to them it shall take a while for it to fully heal. You must tell me dear girl, in detail, what happened out there. What did those people do to you?”

“After me and Shrykos took off, we flew to the stormlands. We were drifting round shipbreaker bay, when those men the council warned us over took notice. Crossbows the size of my arm began shooting at us mother, so I am grateful they managed to get me and Shrykos only once.” At the mention of your dragon, your face turns to worry. Yet before you say anything, your mother quickly moves to interrupt you.

“Your dragon is safe my love. The dragon keepers have been keeping me up to date on her healing, and she is steadily heading to full recovery. The arrow has been removed fully, and the wound has stopped bleeding.” She says, her face betraying her as she is unable to hide her distaste of your dragon.

“Thank you mother, I appreciate the consideration. I know you have no love for Shrykos, nor any of your children’s dragons.” You say, your honesty true as you smile in thanks and understanding.

“You’re welcome my heart…” Your mother smiles, her hand reaching out to hold yours. Which while you admittedly want to shy away from, yet you push through your discomfort to allow your mother this moment that you know your adoptive sister would not have allowed.

“I do not want you to fly unaccompanied anymore my heart,” Alicent begins, shushing your with a single movement when she sees you about to harshly protest. “I have discussed this with your brothers and sister, and they have all agreed. Aemond has already taken the duty on his ever eager shoulders, and has said he will ride with you tomorrow morn at your usual time. It may be in your best interest to thank him next time you see him.”

“Of course mother…” You sigh, already dreading Aemonds smug face and wanting to punch it. Yet you withhold yourself from groaning out loud only from your mother’s sake, who is still holding your hand with intended comfort, even though she is doing nothing but make your blood pump fast around your body. Still, you say nothing. Allowing her to believe she is comforting you with a motherly smile on her face.

Daemon Targaryen:

Daemon had always possessed an amusingly short temper. It was especially tested though whenever it regarded to you. Whenever you got yourself hurt as a child, whether than was to do with training or just an accident in the halls, he always demanded to know the man behind your pain. It’s why you weren’t at all surprised when he reacted that same way when you flew back to Dragonstone and stumbled towards him with an arrow stuck in your shoulder blade.

“Who has dared to harm you zaldritzos? Tell me so I can show them what the exact consequence is for messing with a dragon. I am sure caraxes is already fuelled with my anger alone and is ready to face those who dares spill such precious blood.” Daemon snarls, his face unable to hide its anger as he holds your body steady so it won’t suddenly collapse.

“Bastards from the bloody ships on the bloody sea. Got us good… got us good…” You slur, every word feeling forced from your very gut as your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes zaldritzos! Don’t you fucking close them!” You hear him snarl once more. But still, you cannot resist the temptation of sleep as you disobey your father and close your eyes.

When you find yourself waking, it is Daemon is standing by you while you slept. His eyes hard and stern as they observe you.

“I suppose you’re mad?” You can’t help but say. Your face admittedly ashamed as you stare to the floor, unable to hold his stare.

“Of course I am mad!” He yelled, refusing to allow you to turn your head away as he forces you to make eye contact with him. “My daughter has gone out without telling me, and she has gotten herself hurt the same way soldiers are hurt in wars!”

“I am sorry father!” You say, tears brimming in your eyes as the disappointed and anger shines through his. “I cannot control where those bastard men sail-“

“But you can control where you fly!” Daemon yells back. His voice rough and frustrated as the inner dragon inside him comes out. “I have taught you better than this zaldritzos! I have been teaching you how to ride that dragon of yours since you were a mere child! So why was it you were no doubt flailing about the sky like an amateur, when I know you could have done better?!”

“I’M NOT LIKE YOU!” You shout, shoving your father away as he stares at you with an expressionless face. “I am not a great leader, or a great dragon rider! I am still learning father! My lessons have not yet stopped being taught! Those men on the ships who shot at us were the ones you had warned us about. The ones claiming our great traditions to be an abomination and deserving of punishment. Me and Shrykos did not know their affiliation as we flew above them. Only when the arrows began to fly for our heads did we realise… I got an arrow in the shoulder, which has now since been removed. Shrykos though listened perfectly and managed to get out of there without any particularly damaging wounds. Still, my anger shon through her, and we managed to light the whole of the fleet up in flames before we flew back home. Where of course, you found me…”

Daemon is silent throughout your rant, yet by the end, when you’re breathless with how quickly you spoke, his hand is placed on your non-injured arm in an unfamiliarly comforting manner.

“I know you are not like me zaldritzos. While I have made you in my image, I hardly expected it to be your only outcome. You have become strong. You have become a fearsome warrior able to bring honour to our family name and our ancestors. I suppose… I may have forgotten that I too have made mistakes. I am sorry zaldritzos…”

The tears that had brimmed earlier in your eyes now tear down your face now that you hear your fathers words. His pride. So you do the only thing you can think of at that moment to show your appreciation. You take your arms and place them around Daemons waist, pulling him into a hug where your head is against his chest. Thankfully his arms seem to automatically go around your own body, and you can’t help but find this act comforting and safe.

“Thank you…” You can’t help but murmur.

“I would never let anything hurt you…” He murmurs back. Words which to anyone else may sound meaningless, but to you, you know they hide your father’s true feeling of care.

Rhaenyra Targaryen:

Rhaenyra had always been a sort of mother to you. A light to guide you in the darkest of your days. Whenever you took ill or had an injury, it was always she who stood by your bed, holding your hand in her own. Even though both husbands and loyal guards warned her of her possibly falling ill herself. Not that she ever did somehow though.

It was like that now. That afternoon, you had decided on a whim to take Shrykos on a fight around the coasts bordering the land surrounding Dragonstone. Yet it seems you coincidentally forgot Daemons talk about the rising threat of a religious group following faithfully the followings of the seven, as you tried to fly past them calmly and peacefully. Shrieking in fear when you realise it was not a harmless fly that flew past your face just now, but a very deadly steel-tipped arrow.

You barely made it out of there alive. The only injuries you yourself sustaining being a few arrow nicks on your shoulders, and the worse of it being a shallow puncture from one of the few successful shots. Shrykos though took most of the hits. Her rage seething the more those pathetic men tried to harm both her and her rider. It was quite satisfying you must say, when you flew away with the fresh smell of burning corpses still behind you, lingering on your clothes.

Yet when you got back home and were standing in front of your mother, that satisfaction quickly changed to a strange sort of guilt when you see her horror struck face.

“What has happened my darling!” She tells, taking ahold of your arm to look at your injury while you yell at her to try and say you were fine, even though you wince as soon as she yanks you towards her.

“Bloody men on the coast of Gull Town decided to shoot at us from their fucking boats. They got only a few good shots before Shrykos managed to get to them. By the time we left, we ensured they became fire and ash. I doubt there are any men alive after that….” You say, barely able to stand as the sudden blood loss reaches you.

You’re barely able to think as your mother brings you to the castle hanging on her shoulder. Soon, maesters surround you whilst your mother fusses by your bed to the left of you. She insists and demands certain things, but by the end, your grateful to feel the pain in your arm significantly lessen not only due to the lack of wooden arrow, but also due to the large amount of milk of the poppy that was pretty much forced down your throat.

“Is it all better now my darling?” Your mother asks, putting your hand between her own to soothe you as if you were a small child who’d scuffed their leg falling on some loose gravel.

“It is fine mother!” You insist. Even smiling as you play the part of the healthy child, able to bounce back from any injuries. Yet somehow she can still manage to see through your facade.

“Are you sure?” She asks again. Her brow raised in questioning as she makes you feel like a young child again. Small, and helpless as you cry to mother.

“Yes I am fine!” You firmly say, taking your hand from hers and placing it on the cold clinical bed sheets. Already missing the familial warmth your mother’s hands had provided you with. “I do not need you pressing!”

“Okay my love. I believe you.” Rhaenyra smiles, acknowledging her child’s want for independence. Moving from the chair she previously had sat on so she can place a quick kiss to the top of your head and smile fondly at the way your nose scrunches. “I will leave you now my love. The maesters had said you’ll fully heal by the moons next turn, but you’re fit to leave the bed tomorrow morn. I’ll visit you then.”

As quick as Rhaenyra leaves, you find yourself already wanting her motherly touch to tell you it’s okay. Your legs tucking under your chin as you hold yourself under the covers, letting your eyes shut so hopefully you’re able to wake up tomorrow by your mother’s voice.

Helaena Targaryen:

Compared to all your other family members, it has always been Helaena you were closest too. A close bond forging between the two of you since girlhood that not once has ever been broken.

You were with her when she claimed Dreamfyre, just as she was there for you when you claimed Shrykos. You also made sure to try and be with her whenever she experienced one of her, moments.

Yet that morning, you were way too busy trying to get ready for your usual morn flight to be with her when she took what the queen would call, a funny turn.

‘Blood of the dragon lost twice over. Beware the boats from bellow filled with men of hate.’

She’d seen your injury and the fire coming from your dragons mouth, and being the anxious person she was, she waited at the dragon keeps entrance with her hands fiddling with each other.

When you fly in holding your arm to try and stem the blood, getting off with difficultly as you try and not fall, you almost scare yourself when you turn and suddenly find yourself face to face with Helaena, who holds a bandage ready to treat you with it.

“Give me your arm…” She softly asks, waiting for you to release your arm from your grip so she can slowly and carefully take the arrow from your arm, choosing to ignore your vocal cries of pain so she can make sure to get the arrow out. When she does, she chooses to just drop the bloody wooden chunk to the floor so she can quickly wrap your now gushing wound, which she cleans with a slightly damp clothe that can’t have been out of the water bowl for long.

“What happened?” She asked while she cleaned your red streaked arm.

“Do you remember those men Aemond warned us about? The ones who hate us for our heritage?” You ask, waiting to hear Helaena unique hum to show she’s truly listening. “Well when I was flying by Tarth, those men were in there boats and obviously spotted me before I spotted them. So they shot at me till they hit me.” You shrug, regretting it soon as you did as you hiss at the sudden flare up of pain.

“It’ll hurt badly. I didn’t manage to take any milk of the poppy from the maesters, so we’ll probably need to visit them soon.” Helaena simply says, giving you a smile before she takes your hand in her own. An act you cannot say in words how much it means to you, given how you know of her usual revulsion for physical touch.

So you stay silent. Allowing her to lead you to the maesters with a small smile on your face, that is wiped right off when you become face to face with them. They stare at your with judgement and soulless eyes as they remove you from Helaenas comforting warmth and instead force you to feel cold metal against your flesh. They ignore you as they unwrap the bandages. Only giving each other looks as they wordlessly judge the state of your body.

It almost makes you want to tear their heads from their bodies and feed them to Shrykos. Who no doubt is feeling your frustrations and anger down in the dragon pit.

Yet you hold your tongue for Helaenas sake, who is watching the maesters take supposed special care of you from the corner of the room. She gives you small smiles whenever you make eye contact, and it’s only with them you manage to pull through. The milk of the puppy though they force down your throat certainly makes you more cooperative though you must say.

“Thank you Hel, for looking after me.” You say, staring at her as soon as the maesters deemed you healed enough and left you. No doing to go get the queen to inform her of your sudden injury.

“It is no problem…” She softly smiles back, moving forward to stand next to you so she can hold your hand in her own. Her soft flesh relaxing you possibly even more than the drugs flowing through your system. “I will always be there for you…”

Laenor Valeryon:

Even though you always knew that Laenor could never truly be your father, he nonetheless always managed to act like one better than anyone. While your mother was busy attending to your brothers, it was Laenor who was always busy attending to you, making sure you were fussed in a way a princess should be fussed.

He always made sure to give you the bestest care a princess may need it. Like right now for instance.

“I NEED A MAESTER RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” You remember your father screaming while your vision slowly began to blur in a variety of difference places. “Where are you hurt ñuha nūmio? Where is the pain? What can I do?”

“Arrow in the fucking shoulder.” You groan, bile building in your throat as you resist the urge to vomit. “Only there father. Shrykos was hit too. Fuck it hurts so much…”

“Do not worry dear girl! The maester will come!” As he says this, guards come running with a maester in tow. The guards take ahold of you carefully as you nearly collapse under the sudden blood rush. The maester barking orders for what to do to you to cause the least amount of damage to your body as possible.

When you get to the healing room, you’re placed roughly onto a bed where now a whole group of maesters now flock to you like a group of crows over a fresh carcass. They all say a different method on how to treat you, yet it’s Laenor whose voice shines louder than them all.

“You will not cut up or harm my daughter!” He yells, his voice firm and harsh as he glares at them all. “You will take out that fucking arrow, and you will heal her. Or I swear, as the heir of the realms husband, I’ll make all of you fucking regret it!”

All is silent, and yet with a firm glare they all scatter to complete your father’s order. Soon, cloth is finding its way in your mouth to quench your screams as hands force the arrow once imbedded in your arm is forced onto a silver plate. Blood gushing down your arm in an admittedly disturbing manner.

By the end, there is an elder looking maester stitching up your blood coated arm, and an arrow head and some wood pieces. Laenor held your hand with every scream and every clench of your body. He made sure you felt as safe as you could in the presence of the same type of men who killed your aunt. He also made sure to quickly push them out as soon as they were done with there work. Nodding along in a dismissive manner as they insist they are still needed.

When they are eventually shushed away however, with the door shut quickly behind them, Laenor quickly finds himself by your side again. His hand laced firmly in yours as he takes a lone damp cloth so he can clean away the dried blood still decorating your wounded flesh.

“Does it hurt much? I can always call a maid to fetch you some milk of the poppy?” Laenor insisted, his touch delicate as he makes sure not to harm you in any way.

“It merely stings…” You shrug, wincing though soon as you do due to the sudden flare up in your shoulder. “I do not need any milk of the poppy father. I can manage my pain.”

“I can see that…” He grins, even chuckling when he sees your own smile. “Though, I must ask. What happened? You did not exactly give me much information before the maesters came for us.”

“Me and Shrykos began our normal journey to the direction of Runestone. But on the coast of Gull town, it appears those men mother had recently warned us about, the ones who deem our customs immoral and a disgrace to a seven, spotted us before we spotted them. They took no time before they were shooting at us with giant crossbows on their ship. They took us by surprise, and managed to get only a single time, but that was enough to enact Shrykos’ rage. I didn’t even say the command father! Shrykos enacted our joined rage and set fire to their ships and their bodies. If they weren’t dead by the time we left, I am almost sure they are all at least dead by now.”

He takes in your words carefully. Murmuring small words every so often while he holds your hand as a sigh of sympathy. When your done though, his face is smeared in deep anger. A hatred you have never seen your father show ever before in your lifetime.

“Well it’s a good think they are dead though,” He finally says, snapping from his thoughts with a huff. “Because if they were alive, Seasmoke would be gorging on a feast right now!”

“Thank you father…” You simply say, falling into his arms that welcome you immediately. You close your eyes and allow yourself to bask in his familiar comforting warmth.

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