#just leans into her strengths and tries to figure out how to work with her weaknesses and help her work on them

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS23 Fic Update: "Carolina Moon" Chapter Five

Sheesh, so much for getting back to weekly updates! I don't know what else to do but apologize folks, and to say thank you for hanging in there with me if you're still patiently reading this story despite my lack of speed. Please enjoy the newest chapter - the threat is ramping up, but so is Killian's determination to help keep Emma safe!

Thank you so, so, SO much for @xarandomdreamx and her wonderful beta skills - she had a job fixing all the times I switched tenses this go 'round!

And continued thanks to @eastwesthomeisbest for this cover art that I'm thrilled by all over again each time I post a new chapter!!

Read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Five: Unwanted Reunion and New Resolve

Killian Jones’ mind was everywhere but on the shipping manifests and cost reports he was attempting to look over in his small office down at the docks. Paperwork of that nature was his least favorite part of being the boss, and a tedious chore at the best of times, but with all he had witnessed the night before - Emma trembling in his arms, shaking from the sapping strength of her visions - he could find little space in his brain for inventory and figures. The sunlight glinting off the water out the window to his left and the gentle sound of the waves striking the moorings of the pier always tried to entice him from his desk on mornings he had to take alone to put the business in order, but with his concentration already severely fractured, he was making little to no headway. He’d dropped Emma off by her car at the gallery that morning, reluctantly aware that he had to give her a bit of space, and figuring that in the middle of town in broad daylight was the best time to do so and still retain his own peace of mind. He’d spent the night on her couch - against her protests that she sleep there instead - but all had been quiet, no signs of trouble. She’d planned to go to the diner to grab breakfast, then work for a few hours, and he’d pick her up that evening when they’d both finished for the day.

With a growl of frustration, Killian pushed his chair back and reclined in it, raking a hand through his dark hair, surely making it stand on end, and squeezing his eyes closed to block all the images rushing through, images that were already inside his head. He wanted to yell, to hit something - mostly his own younger self. How had they all been so blind and callous? Was this what Emma had always been dealing with? Even as a child? Rose would have known, would have been a support, a respite for Emma in the storm the rest of her life must have been. His baby sister, whom he’d doted on, but clearly not paid careful enough attention to, would have done nothing less. But when she was snatched away, and Emma blamed for the loss, despite what she had risked in order to help, it was just too late, the storm had surged back to surround her, raging and buffeting her more cruelly than ever. Though he had wondered briefly about the marks he could see that morning, and what had kept Emma from meeting Rose the night before, he had been too young and blind, too lost in his own grief and family concerns to reach out to her as he saw now he should have done. She had lost the only anchor in the maelstrom she had ever possessed, and he hadn’t bothered to toss her a lifeline. Leaning forward again, elbows planted on his cluttered desk, Killian rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully for a moment, trying to refocus on what he could do now to help her and show he wanted to ease her burden - would always, always, be at her side from now on, if she would allow it. Emma had said, when her defenses were still down and he had held her close, trying to imbue any bit of strength he could, that Rose wasn’t the only one - that there had been other victims.

Galvanized with sudden inspiration, he pushed his bookkeeping aside in a messy heap to one corner of his desk and quickly opened a new window on his laptop. If he wasn’t going to be able to focus on his own work, he might as well accomplish something worthwhile, something he could take to Emma as proof of how fully he took her at her word - a starting point for their inquiry. His eyes began to scan lines of text in rapid fascination - both amazed and appalled at the sheer amount of information at one’s fingertips once he chose to look, and at the horrifying reality of there being so much to be found.

He was soon fully engaged in the task, his other concerns slipping away with the minutes that ticked by until he could call it a day, and it suddenly felt as if he had managed some worthwhile work after all. Perhaps not for Jones Shipping Ltd., but important all the same. He tried not to picture the scoff and disappointed shake of the head his father would have given at that; Brennan Jones did nothing if not for the furtherance of their name and holdings, and his imagination’s echoes of the sharp retort that would be on his mother’s lips did no good either.

All the same, he was anxious to show Emma what he had turned up, and in only a couple hours’ searching. It wouldn’t be what one might call pleasant dinner conversation - certainly not what he’d usually entertain as fit for a second date - was he crazy to consider it as such?  He felt Emma would want to know all the same. It was proof that what she had seen the night before, horrifying as it must have been, was hardly mistaken or imagined. And it was a first stop toward finally uncovering the truth after all this time. Emma deserved to be set free at long last - they all did.

When it finally neared five o’clock, Killian had never locked up his office and left work so quickly. He headed straight for the town square and those mesmerizing green eyes he was eager to feel upon him again. He had been missing them for longer than he’d ever fully realized.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

The morning after intense visions Emma always felt a bit hazy, slightly dazed and headache-y, almost as though suffering from a mental hangover of sorts, from exerting such focus and emotion. That morning was no different, but she shuffled gingerly through her usual routine as always, wincing but not about to waste time recouping her strength if she still hoped to open for business as planned.

By the time she had returned to the gallery, a shocking amount of coffee in her system and a satisfyingly crisp and greasy bacon sandwich from the local diner in her stomach, she already felt more herself. She had called the young lady, Violet Clemens  back and hired her after all. She was going to need help, and the sale she had already made - to Ruby Jones, of all people! - had boosted her confidence. She might as well sink everything into this; if she went down, she would go down swinging with all she had.

Violet had joined her in the shop just after 12:30, and they had spent a cheerful couple of hours putting the last items and displays in place. The other woman had proven a real asset already: agreeable, quick, and a good eye to boot. She was pleasant company and a worthy distraction. Emma was already exceedingly glad of her presence.

It was just half past three when Emma paused to stretch, catch her breath, and survey their progress with a proud smile. There really wasn’t too much left after Killian’s help the previous day, and all that she and her new employee had just accomplished. Smiling broadly, she thanked Violet once more, and got them both a cold water bottle from the small fridge she’d had Killian’s help in nestling on the shelf under the counter. They were due a cool drink and a moment’s sit down, she felt sure. 

While they were still sipping their drinks perched on the tall stools she’d placed behind the counter, the bell above the shop door jangled merrily to announce the arrival of Mayor Walsh Ozman with his wide, charming-the-public smile. Emma stood and moved forward to greet her old acquaintance, asking what they could do for him, even though she was privately amused at how well the public servant schtick seemed to suit him. She would have never imagined that the unhappy, mean-spirited boy of their youth would be wearing that wide smile and winning local elections when they all grew up. Then again, she couldn’t have pictured much for her future either, not back then. Still, she mused curiously before returning her attention to Walsh’s reply, she would have to ask Killian if it was an election year and if Mayor Ozman was trying to win over these two newcomers to his town by turning on the charm.

As it turned out, the mayor was also hoping to make an early purchase - it seemed that he and his wife were quite close to their 15th anniversary, and having lived in Storybrooke all that time, he was anxious to shop for a gift somewhere completely unknown to her. He genuinely did want to offer any help he could as a town representative, but if he could find the right anniversary present at the same time, he would be incredibly grateful.

Violet happily began to show him around the shop, directing his attention to various framed photographs which might work especially well as romantic gifts - the close-up bud of a red rose, two swallows entwined in flight, a couple’s joined hands in silhouette against a sunset’s orange and gold. Not only that, but she kept up a lively patter of information that proved just what a sponge she had been for all of the information Emma had told her so far about her process, materials, and subject matter. Violet answered the mayor’s questions nearly as well as Emma herself could have done, and it pleased Emma more than she could say, thinking that not only had she helped someone in need of a job, but that she had managed to find someone with the pep and sweetness they needed out front, all the engaging personality she herself often fought to project, as well as a genuine interest in the art itself.

By the time Violet had shown Walsh all the way around the store cheerily, the mayor had a selected photo in hand once they returned to the counter and Emma was marvelling at how lucky she had been to find such a natural saleswoman along with all of Violet’s other positive traits. The red rose picture Walsh had selected seemed a touch obvious, but then, who was she to judge? She had chosen it to crop and display as she had because its blatant appeal almost guaranteed it would sell. They weren’t even officially open yet, and this was her second painting sold. If this could keep up, she might not have as hard a road making her gallery succeed as she had anticipated.

As she rang up the purchase and ran the mayor’s card, Violet carefully and efficiently wrapped the frame as she had been shown. Walsh grinned broadly the whole time as her new assistant prattled on. “You’ve really saved me a long, drawn out search with this, ladies. And Marjorie will love it too. Plus, it was a chance to keep business local. Your gallery is going to be a great addition for Storybrooke, just wait and see.”

“I certainly hope so,” Emma replied, a pleasantly warm glow of pride in her chest as she did so.

“You just give me a call if there’s anything I can do to help out,” he reminded again as he headed out the door with a wave. “It is part of my job, after all.”

When he was gone, Emma found that they really had accomplished nearly all that she had planned for the day. With heartfelt gratitude, she sent Violet off a bit early, promising that she was just going to lock up and make an early night of it herself as well. No need to tell the younger woman that she was going to be picked up at five like a kid after daycare for her own safety.

Violet hadn’t been gone but a few minutes before Emma had all in order and was gathering her things to leave, true to her word. She made sure the lights were out in the back office, that all was in its proper place, and was just bending to gather her things from under the counter, when she heard the door open once more, its bell chiming in announcement. Standing straight again, she had begun to speak before even seeing the person who had entered. “I’m sorry, but we’re not open for business yet. I was just leaving for the day, and - “ but the rest of her polite dismissal died on her tongue when she recognized the person who had arrived - a face she had hoped never to see again.

“Well, seeing as I’m already here, you’ll just have to make an exception, won’t you?” The question was taut and dangerous, hardly a question at all, though phrased as such. Every nerve in Emma’s body stood on end in response. Her limbs took on the same sort of wary motionlessness they had years ago, like a rabbit going statue-still in hopes of evading a predator’s notice, yet ready to dart away the moment an opening appeared.

Vic Franken hadn’t darkened her path again after she’d paid him off for her safety and peace of mind once he found her in Boston. Emma had hoped that fragile truce and space would hold, despite his breach of parole, but her former “guardian” never had been particularly wise, and he was eerily apt to return to what he knew, what was easiest, particularly when he was desperate. Emma wet her lips nervously and attempted to keep breathing calmly, steadily, focused on taking in any weakness she might be able to use to her own benefit. The past six or seven years had not been kind to him by the looks of it. Always tall and wiry, Franken appeared almost unhealthily gaunt, with dark shadows under eyes that were still as sharp and wild, darting quickly about the gallery space, to her, and back again. His clothes were worn and wrinkled, his hair stood on end in places, and he was moving closer, coming to stand just on the other side of the counter - much nearer than Emma could handle without her knees going a bit watery in spite of the fact that she wasn’t 13 anymore and she had every right to order him out of her place of business, whether he thought so or not.

“You s-shouldn’t be here,” she managed to say coolly, her voice only quavering slightly, for which she was grateful. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, intending to look serious, but also hoping to hold herself together as best she could.

“Damn it!” he howled, the loud exclamation ringing in the air between them as his large hand slammed down on the counter, rattling the surface with a bang, and causing Emma to shrink backward against her best effort to hold her ground. “You aren’t so high and mighty that you can just shove me out! I put a roof over you head, and you owe me for it! I’m not leaving ‘til I’m good an’ ready!”

At that, Emma regained herself through sheer outrage alone. This monster had made her childhood miserable, and she wasn’t about to have him barge in and take anything else from her. Standing taller and tipping her chin up to face him squarely, Emma’s spine returned to her after the shock of his appearance, while her hand scrambled carefully through her things beneath the countertop. She hoped Franken wouldn’t notice what she was doing before she could lay hands on the pocketknife she knew was somewhere in her purse. Granted, that wasn’t much of a weapon, but she wasn’t going to face him without any sort of defense - not ever again.

An eerie sort of calm washed over the man for a moment then, as if he and Emma were locked in a stalemate and her facing him steadily had given him pause. His exacting gaze continued to take in the large main room of her shop, and Emma held her breath, finally feeling her fingertips graze the handle she was searching for at the bottom of her purse. She knew better than to drop her guard; his quiet hesitation was like a hurricane’s eye, the calm before the gale began to batter and howl once more. Grasping her prize, Emma pulled it free and flicked it open, not wanting to show her hand too soon and yield the element of surprise if she had to wield it. 

As Franken returned his focus to her, an unnatural almost proud look crossed his features, as out of place as it was, particularly when an attempt at some sort of paternal smile twisted his visage. “Seems like you’ve done alright for yourself since I saw you last, Emma,” he finally murmured in a cajoling tone.

She snorted; regardless of how dangerous it might be to antagonize him, she couldn’t even pretend they were on terms to make friendly small talk. “If I am doing well, it’s no thanks to you,” she retorted bitterly.

Franken’s nostrils flared as he reeled back to his full height, the calm attempt at appealing to her good side shattered in an instant. “Ungrateful wench!” he hollered, eyes bulging wide as he swung a hand wildly, catching the edge of a large, framed portrait on the wall behind him and knocking it to the floor, where it crashed on its face and sent glass shattering outward in a wide spray. “After I took you in, fed you, clothed you, saw that you had a roof over your head? Now you’re too good to return the favor?”

Emma gasped in dismay at the largest piece in her gallery’s fall and destruction, but was quick enough to dodge his flailing hand when Franken reached out in an attempt to grab her shoulder and haul her close. She was just fast enough to evade him, thankfully. She might be fully grown now instead of a scrawny, underfed kid, but she still didn’t need to find out what he would do if he got a good hold on her. 

“Took me in?” she spat back, practically seething in anger that he would dare pretend he had actually provided any sort of genuine care. “Is that what you did?” Shaking her head in disbelief, Emma finally raised the small blade before her, as if warning him to keep his distance, even if there wasn’t much more space behind the counter for her to put between them. “Which part am I supposed to be grateful for, hmm?” she barrelled on, now that the gates were open, her words kept spilling out. “The beatings that left me so sore I could barely sit or walk for days afterward? The hours I spent locked in the pitch dark cellar as punishment for my demons? The shame and fear you made sure I never forgot from the moment I crossed the threshold of your house until the day I got away from it?” The small pocket knife wavered along with her hand, and her vision blurred with hot tears of frustration, but Emma didn’t falter. “Tell me what exactly I should be thanking you for?”

With a wild growl, he whirled away from her, grabbing frames from their hooks and hurling them against the walls or to the floor, knocking a large easel to the ground and smashing his foot through the canvas print it had held. He was on as much a tear as a toddler having a fit, but imminently more dangerous. Rounding on her again, his eyes were wild, and if possible, Emma would have sworn he was foaming at the mouth.

It was then, in desperation to save the work he hadn’t already destroyed, that she acted without thinking clearly and charged out from behind the counter she had carefully kept between them - so focused on making him leave that she left herself vulnerable by coming too close. “Get out!” Emma cried, mindless of his larger build and out of control demeanor; the threat he posed flying from her head as her work - the pictures she’d poured her heart and soul into, and the inventory she needed to keep her business afloat - clattered to the ground, breaking and being trashed before her eyes. She might still have the small blade gripped in her sweaty fingers, but she wasn’t thinking about defense as much as ridding herself of his presence before he destroyed her means of livelihood. “You have no right to anything from me! You need to get out of here before I call the police and tell them you’re in town!”

Franken whirled from the far wall where he’d been wreaking havoc and instead turned towards her seething with unrestrained rage. There were many times in her years growing up when Emma had feared that this man was unstable; dangerously obsessed with her “unholy” visions and driving them from her by any means necessary, and that his volatile fanaticism would injure her beyond what she could heal from or survive. Emma had spent far longer than was fair, wasted too much of her life, waiting to be out from under his thumb, no longer catching her breath and ducking a fist sure to fly or a bruising belt buckle if she said too much or let the wrong words slip. It had been long enough now though that she wasn’t guarding every thought and impulse, and she didn’t stop to second guess or recognize the danger as she took her stand. Willing to defend this little space she’d made for herself, even if it meant facing the monster from her past head-on and all alone.

The violence that twinkled maliciously in Franken’s deep, dark gaze should have been a warning, but Emma was too riled up and determined that this time she wasn’t backing down, wasn’t letting this pathetic excuse for a man take anything more from her. Where a younger, more wary version of herself would have shrunk back and put space between them, Emma instead pressed forward capitalizing on the man’s momentary shock. She wasn’t sure what she intended to try next if he didn’t move, but her body seemed determined to herd him out the door, with or without the full thought and cooperation of her racing brain.

Barely a moment’s warning, where a low, evil chuckle rumbled from his throat, evidencing anything but humor, was the only signal Emma got, and the next thing she knew, Franken had struck so fast she didn’t even see the movement - like a copperhead concealed in dank marsh water, having already bitten a person before one even knew it was there. Her head whipped to the side with the impact of his fist shooting out and making contact, leaving her ears ringing and her lungs gasping for air.

Emma struggled to keep her feet beneath her, even as the world around her tilted sideways. A wailing inside her head like sirens brought back all the times she had fallen before this monster as a child, curled tightly in a ball to protect herself from the blows he’d rained down on her for the smallest imagined infractions or the involuntary glimpses of prescient knowledge she couldn’t help possessing - they’d been part of who she was even then, as much a her hair or eye color, and they refused to stay hidden. Emma had attempted to - for all she was worth - having immediately learned speaking of what she saw, no matter how important it might seem, only earned her more suffering and degradation. 

Flailing her arms, she managed to catch the side of the counter and steady herself before she went tumbling to the floor. Franken was right there, coming for her again with his arm raised, no doubt reveling in the same sort of drunken power he had missed while the inexorable familiarity of the old, horrible pattern clutched Emma by the throat with fear. 

This time she wasn’t having it. She’d fight him even if it broke every bone in her body. With a cry of pain soaked in years of suffering unheard, Emma pushed off the counter, leading with the sharp pocket knife and sheer desperation, she meant to make her own mark this time. “Leave me alone!” she bellowed, as she took her first step to meet him.

But, despite his own seeming haze of madness and unsteady mind, Vic Franken was still quick and powerful as a gator and just as mean. Much like he’d always been, he was too large a foe for her to fell unprepared and without proper defenses. His meaty paw caught her wrist with crushing strength, until her fingers were forced to release her blade and it clattered to the floor and skittered away uselessly as she felt her tendons and bones ground painfully beneath his grip. 

He pulled her close to his face until their noses nearly touched, as if trying to understand why he couldn’t make her cower the way he once had. Emma could just begin to hear the blessed sound of sirens in the distance that she prayed were coming their way. Thank goodness she had shouldered the extra cost of hidden cameras and a security company who monitored their feed continuously. When he’d begun to tear her gallery apart it would have been obvious help was needed though she’d had no time to call for it.

“You think this is over?” he hissed angrily. “I’m not finished with you…far from it. You won’t be rid of me until I say so. Don’t you forget it.”

Flinging Emma away like a discarded ragdoll, she stumbled with the force of it, tripping on the debris that littered the floor and slamming back into the counter that had saved her minutes before. Franken fled out the door and was gone, and she slumped to the floor - for the moment too dizzy and aching to get up again. Trying to catch her breath and make her surroundings stop whirling around her, Emma breathed slowly, closing her eyes and allowing her head to lean groggily against the smooth, cool surface until she could gather her bearings.

The siren sounds drew nearer still, for which she was so thankful she could cry, but then she heard the door swing open once more, and she lurched frantically to attention, struggling to get her feet under her for fear that he had come back to finish her off. What she saw instead almost started her laughing hysterically, having never imagined this particular visitor’s appearance would send relief washing over her.

“Emma?” Ruby Jones’ voice was shocked and disbelieving, even concerned, all rolled into one as her heels click-clacked right across all the broken glass towards her before she crouched at her side, fingers already gingerly dabbing at the trickle of blood from the broken skin at her temple and then holding an honest-to-goodness monogrammed handkerchief to the spot. “What happened here?”

Emma reached out to still Ruby’s hand, shaking her head with as little force as possible and still wincing, “More who than what…” she managed, still trying to fully gather her wits and fighting for her speech not to sound slurred. She swallowed, wetting her lips and pressing on. “It was Franken….my old foster father…remember?” Ruby nodded, mouth and eyes both gaping wide at her. Emma sighed, “Thank - thank goodness it sounds like those sirens are close… don’t wanna tell this all more than once.”

“Vic Franken?” Ruby growled, her wide eyes narrowing. She looked for a second as if she might have clawed the man’s eyes out herself if she had been here just a little sooner. Emma again had to choke back out of place hilarity at the other woman’s defense of her. Rose would have loved it; she was just trying not to get whiplash. “What did that bastard think he was doing coming here?” Ruby snapped out.

Emma chuckled lightly, squinting against the way even that made her head hurt. Somehow Ruby’s fiery temper made her heart feel a little lighter. This nightmare was still dogging her, but the sheer absurdity of someone she’d have sworn even two days ago couldn’t stand her being ready to fight for her, lightened the dark cloud that had settled over her. Giving the former debutante a mischievous, if weary, side eye, she teased. “Whoo, Miss Ruby! That’s quite a mouth you’ve got there for a nice Southern belle! What would your Mama say?!”

Ruby rolled her eyes at the teasing with a dismissive snort, even as she let Emma grip her forearms and help her to stand again, holding on until sure she was steady. “Well, first she would have told me to walk on by and leave you where you fell, so clearly I don’t much care what she has to say.”

Emma began to nod her acknowledgement that what Ruby said was true, then quickly thought better of it at the shot of pain that lanced through her. 

Ruby shrugged, offering a crooked smile. “Besides,” she added ruefully, “Mama despaired of me a long time ago.”

Emma drew in a sharp breath, a few sadly clarifying things about Killian and Rose’s sister instantly becoming clear. 

“Now,” Ruby continued, red fingernail raised to point at Emma authoritatively, “you are gonna report this sorry excuse of a man so they can nail him to the wall, and then we’re gonna get you patched up, okay?”

Emma didn’t get to respond further as they were interrupted by what seemed to be the entire Storybrooke police force’s arrival just then, with a worried David Nolan leading the charge. She’d give her former defender credit. Though he looked half beside himself when he first burst through the door, his deputies flanking him, David quickly saw that the perpetrator was gone and, while she was injured and shaken, Emma was no longer in immediate danger and had someone at her side. With an almost visible effort, he reigned in his protectiveness and brought his anxiety back under stern professional control. 

Turning, he began capably barking out orders to his fellow officers - not unkindly, but feeling the urgency and not at all wanting to allow Franken to escape and cause this sort of damage again. Through the buzzing that seemed to have taken up residence in her brain, Emma heard David directing a perimeter to be set up to keep Franken from getting out of town, with an APB being put out with Franken’s name and description to all possible news outlets. He also organized the coordination of his people coming in to gather evidence and block off the space outside on the walk so gawkers couldn’t  make their way in and disturb anything that could aid in their search. 

Though there were an overwhelming number of people swarming all about inside the shop, Emma was grateful that only David himself came over to ask a few questions of her. Ruby had led her, wordless as she had ever seen the youngest Jones sibling, over to one of the tall stools at the counter, coaxing her into gingerly sitting down, being kind enough even to avert her gaze and hold back her own questions when Emma leaned slightly over, her still-spinning head against Ruby’s side as she attempted to swallow her nausea back down her throat. Ruby just rubbed a hand across Emma’s shoulder blades gently and stood there as steady and calm as a pillar of marble.

David stooped to look into Emma’s eyes with his own careful concern as he reached them. “Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous?” he asked promptly, his words clipped and tight, making the strain he was still under to remain calm and professional all too clear. Emma was fairly certain he already knew the answer anyway. If she tried to shake her head and deny his suspicions, her world would only keep spinning more frantically.

Just barely meeting his anxious stare with her eyes slitted narrowly open, she managed a half-convincing, “Calm down, Nolan. We all know I’ve had worse.”

The sheriff’s lips pressed together into a thin line, his whole expression pulled taut enough that Emma couldn’t even gauge whether anger, guilt, or fear was playing the largest role.  His arms crossed firmly over his broad chest as he stood back to his full height, sensing that hovering would not make her any more agreeable, but he didn’t cease watching her, not allowing her to shut him out. “That isn’t funny,” he ground out, low enough that in the bustle around the shop only she, Ruby, and himself heard the admonishment, yet she felt chastened all the same. “You are clearly not safe, even out in the open, in broad daylight, and what if the security company hadn’t called us soon enough, if Ruby hadn’t walked in when she did? Emma, you could have been - “

Her eyes shot up to meet his savagely, knowing the rest of his sentence and not wanting it spoken aloud. Despite the ringing in her ears and rolling of her stomach, her fierce look froze the words on David’s tongue. She’d traveled so far, worked so hard to be more than the helpless, pitied victim of that man’s abuse - and she wasn’t letting him make her one again.

Before any of them could speak further, or the tension between them could fully dissipate, the door flung back on its hinges wildly as someone else rushed into her gallery. “Emma!” Killian’s unmistakable voice called out, cracking with worry on the second syllable, even as David moved aside slightly so his friend could see her for himself.

A strangled sound escaped his throat, and in moments Jones was across the room and on his knees before her, reaching out as if to pull her close, then jolting back as he took in the trickle of blood and the bruising that had already begun to color the side of her face. Looking wracked with indecision, he simply held his place before her, as near as he dared, and breathed out a choked, “What happened, Swan? Are - are you alright?”

“She will be,” Ruby offered with much needed certainty from beside Emma, laying her hand on her brother’s shoulder, as if to steady him and remind them both that she was there.  It was new from her - for both of them - but her typical self assurance was bolstering in the fraught moment and incredibly welcome.

Killian finally released a full breath, his forehead falling to rest upon her knee, and his fingers reflexively clutching her denim-clad leg for a moment as he trembled with relief. After a moment to gather himself, he looked up into Emma’s face from where he crouched before her, eyes swimming with unasked questions and the fear - still all too close to the surface - that he had nearly lost her.

Emma didn’t have the strength to hold back, not in that tremulous moment when she was hurt and wanted to scream at the unfairness of everything falling apart around her. She grasped his t-shirt at the shoulder, comforted by his warm solidity beneath, and ran a hand over his brow, amazed that he was there and was so intensely concerned - and that she allows herself the luxury of that - before trailing her fingers through his unruly dark hair. “It was Franken,” she murmured lowly, just wanting it all out, like poison drawn from a wound. “He was here, mostly after money, I think…” she paused. “But as you can see,” she gestured to her face, “that clearly wasn’t enough to keep him from leaving a souvenir for old times’ sake.”

She could see the angry tic in Killian’s jaw, working to restrain the fury he felt, and though his was quieter, it seemed to run even deeper and even harder to contain than David’s had before it.

At that, David broke into the moment. “Killian, why don’t you take Emma to Storybrooke General to be checked out? I can swing by there later, when all this is under control, if I have any questions that can’t wait until tomorrow.” He waved to the crime scene which her gallery had become as he spoke.

Killian’s “Aye” and terse nod were all that voiced his agreement to the sheriff’s suggestion, but he stood and offered Emma a hand; balance and support to pull herself up if she chose to take it. Ruby squeezed her hand, promising she would check on her later as well.

She wanted to argue, to say the fuss wasn’t necessary, but as she stood and then wavered unsteadily, she knew there was no point. She merely took Killian’s arm and leaned on him wordlessly without a fight. None of the three people surrounding her would let her close call be brushed aside - not this time. For now, she accepted the concern and decided she’d give herself a minute in which she didn’t have to be so strong.

    *~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

A few hours later Killian was leading Emma from the waiting room of the small local hospital, walking and as close behind her as humanly possible without getting their feet tangled and making her fall. She wanted to tell him that she’d be fine, to take her back to her car and then go on home, but the determined and independent core she had built up, the one which usually allowed her to offer those placating refrains so easily seemed irretrievably weakened. She couldn’t push him away. Where she would usually deny or ignore whatever had shaken her, Emma couldn’t this time. After all she had accomplished and how far she had traveled, after how long she had denied herself and stayed as far away as she could, it hadn’t been enough - not long enough, not far enough - her past and its monster had still found her and attacked.

So she didn’t want to need Killian Jones’ warm and steady palm at the small of her back, the comforting heat and gentle, guiding pressure easily felt through the thin material of her cotton blouse, but need it she did. “Come Lass, the truck’s over here,” he murmured, soothing and low near her ear, leaning in to speak for her ears alone as he steered her toward the corner of the lot where he had parked. 

There really hadn’t been much anyone could do for the busted lip and rapidly blackening eye she was sporting, other than cautioning her to ice it often and to take aspirin as needed for the pain, but they had made sure nothing was broken in her nose, cheekbones, or jaw. She had also been cautioned, since she’d suffered some nausea at first, that if she became dizzy again or threw up, she should return for further examination. She hadn’t presented with a concussion, but one might sometimes show up later, and they wouldn’t want to miss it if so.

The doctor who had looked her over and the nurse were both concerned about sending Emma home alone; they wanted her observed and awakened every couple of hours. At Killian’s assurance that he would stay with her and do just as they suggested, however, they had relented and she had finally been released.

It wasn’t until he was helping her up into the high seat of his truck’s cab and moving to shut the door that she finally forced herself to protest - it was too much, he didn’t need to put himself out.

Killian was having none of it. He wouldn’t even let her finish, interrupting her protests in a heavy handed way she hadn’t yet seen from him. The solemnity of his vow was irrefutable when he swore that “This time, Love, you won’t be alone until that bastard is caught. Not until this is over.” His eyes burned into her like twin blue flames. “You are too precious for me to do otherwise.”

As much as the fervent emotion from him stole her breath, frustration mounted within her right alongside it. She’d spent so much of her early life beholden to one person or another, moved and driven by the whims of Fate or the system. She didn’t want to be a responsibility or a chore to anyone - not even someone honorable, who took his role as seriously as Killian. Especially not to Killian. She shook her head angrily, biting back tears. “This is stupid! I’ll just go…”

Jones didn’t even hesitate. “Then I’m going too… to the end of the Earth, if that’s where you’re headed.”

She was swiping at the errant tears that wouldn’t be held back any longer, wincing when she got too close to the tender area near her eye socket and sniffing back worse sobs as she beseeched him in last resort. “Why? Killian, why would you do that? So you can get yourself killed trying to protect me?!?”

But he merely shook his head, leaning into her space, pressing his forehead to hers and his warm breath caressing her cheek. “I’m not going to let that happen, Swan. We’ve both lost enough. I’m with you now - no matter what - and we’re going to stand and fight.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @cssns @kmomof4 @jrob64 @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @apiratewhopines @xarandomdreamx @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @bluewildcatfanatic @xsajx @teamhook @revanmeetra @iamstartraveller776 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @blackwidownat2814 @blowmiakisscolin @let-it-raines @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke @drowned-dreamer @stahlop @wefoundloveunderthelight @eastwesthomeisbest @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @ultraluckycatnd @bdevereaux @caught-in-the-filter @belovedcreation @lenfaz

#cssns23 #cs modern au mc #cs movie au #cssns fic update #carolina moon #chapter five #some violence #some angst #just a fair warning #but also a line I've been dying to have Killian say...

[pearlcaddy]

LOCKWOOD & CO. 1.01

#lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lockwoodandcoedit #anthony lockwood #anthonylockwoodedit #lucy carlyle #lucycarlyleedit #locklyle #locklyleedit #smallscreensource #tvedit #blackandwhiteedit #pearlcaddyedit #pearlcaddy l&co #there's something about the way his gaze immediately goes to her in the first gif #and then he gives her practical advice to keep herself distracted from her fear #idk i just love that in the first few episodes when lucy's still easily spooked lockwood doesn't really judge the fear #it's the whole 'normal never fixed anything' thing #he knows how talented she is and he doesn't shame her for the strengths she doesn't have #just leans into her strengths and tries to figure out how to work with her weaknesses and help her work on them #the look on her face as he's talking--like he's offering a lifeline and she's eagerly taking it #also: the way he keeps his eyes on her as he walks past for just a little longer than makes sense

[bwabys-scenarios]

Hello!! I love your hantengu x Wifey! Reader, I been giggling and kicking my feet while reading this fluff, But i have a questions of this story, like.. how did the clones and reader got married? How did they met? What makes them fall for reader (or how reader fall for them? :D

How the hantengu clones found their wife

Warnings: slightly suggestive

PART 1

PART 2

It was the dead of winter, and (Name) had been taking care of her parents cabin the best she could. The young woman lived by herself ever since her parents had passed away from sickness. Although she tolerated the cold and loneliness to protect her childhood home, she often felt lonely in the large cabin.

After gathering all the firewood she could carry, she placed the damp logs and twigs next to the already roaring fire to dry. She heaved an older log into the flames, then turned away to work on dinner.

(Name) hosted a pot onto her stove to prepare a meal for herself when she heard a cry from outside. She froze in her spot, clutching her shirt in fright. The anguish in the voice caused her heart to throb.

“H-help! Please!”

(Name) had always had a heart of gold. In her youth shed rescue wildlife and go into town to help the elderly with tasks. Now she was a woman, and knew better than to go outside into the night when she heard someone call for help. It could be a trap.

This didn’t stop her from throwing on her thickest coat and snow shoes, though. She slid her door open, then closed it behind her. In her knife she held a kitchen knife, and in the other a lantern.

“H-hello?” She called into the darkness, holding her coat closed over her chest. The knife was now differ behinds the thick folds of her coat, though the feeling of its cold blade against her skin did little to comfort her.

She approached the woods, where the sound had been coming from. When she finally reached her destination, she gasped and quickly dropped her knife to kneel down next to a figure in the snow.

The figure belonged to an older man, who’s appearance was obviously strange. He gasped out when she reached out to touch him, covering his face and crying.

“You- you’re with them aren’t you? Don’t hurt me!”

(Name)’s gaze softened and she kneeled down in the snow, slowly reaching down to cup his cheek. “Sir, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not with anyone, promise.”

He whimpered, lightly leaning into her soft feminine touch. She smiled and helped him up, before realizing he wouldn’t be able to walk.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll carry you.”

The man was surprisingly light. She feared he may be an abused elder, something that was on a rise in her community. Sometimes the sleepy would wander the forest and beg to not be sent back home, but unfortunately that’s all she could usually do. Harboring a missing person could land her in jail, and she certainly did not want that!

“You’re too kind… so kind.”

(Name) could feel his tears run down her neck as he cried. She tried her best to ignore the feeling of his tears slowly turning to ice against her skin.

Once they were inside, she helped the gentleman into bed. It was dark inside her home now, and though she had candlelight and could certainly tell he looked strange, this wasn’t going to stop her from caring for him.

“Sir, can you tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

(Name) squeezed out some excess water from a rag and laid it on his forehead. He was surprisingly warm, his breathing shallow.

“I was poisoned…”

“What?! Oh dear I’ll need to fetch a doctor right-“

The man grabbed her wrist as she turned to leave with surprising force. He released her before she could process his overwhelming strength.

“No doctors. This will go away on its own… just need rest.”

(Name) nodded slowly, sitting down next to him. As the night went on, he requested she tightly close the blinds, stating sunlight would worsen the poison. She didn’t know a poison that would react to sunlight, nevertheless she did as she was told.

“Sir, are you hungry? I was just about to cook dinner.”

The man pondered her words for a moment, before nodding. “Yes. Thank you.”

She grinned, pushing the hair out of his face.

“One last thing. What’s your name?”

He sighed, content to have such a kind woman watching over him. “Hantengu.”

—————

(Name) busied herself in the kitchen, putting together a simple beef stew. It would have enough nutrients for someone sick and be quick enough to feed the two before going to bed.

When she finished she slowly hand fed her guest, cleaning his face after. He thanked her after he finished and grasped her hand.

“You have such beautiful hands, (Name). You would make a wonderful wife, you know?”

(Name)’s face heated up and she laughed, waving her hand. “No, no, I’m not good enough to be someone’s wife. I’m just a simple woman.”

Hantengu didn’t reply, only squeezing her hand lightly, before falling asleep. (Name) slipped her hand from his grasp and tiptoed away.

She undressed, hanging up her winter kimono and slipping on a nightgown. She looked at herself in the mirror, sighed, then tucked herself into bed.

———————

‘Mmm… warm…’

(Name) snuggled into something warm, the feeling enveloping her. The cold of the winter was far from her mind, the only thing she could think of was…

‘Wait… why do I feel hands on my waist?’

(Name)’s eyes shot open, and try as she might she couldn’t get up. She looked around her surroundings to try and see what was holding her down, only for shock to take over.

Laying on either side of her were extremely muscular men. They had a strange demonic look to them, with horns sprouting from their heads, one of them even having wings!!

“You’re finally awake, (Name)~”

The one behind her nuzzled into her neck, gently nipping at weak spots. She gasped, reaching her hands back to gently push him away. Her action did nothing, pushing the man felt like pushing a metal statue. His yellow eyes watched her in amusement.

“Aww, look, she’s so confused!”

She quickly turned to face the man in front of her who lied on his side to stare at her. He smirked, tilting her chin up to take a better look at her face.

“Sekido was right, she is perfect.”

(Name) blinked, watching the man in front of her lean in closer. She slammed her eyes shut, only to have the feeling of his tongue sliding down her cheek.

“Tastes so sweet. Urogi, tell the others she’s awake.”

Once Urogi left the room, the other man pulled her into his lap. He bounced her up and down on his leg, pulling at her nightgown.

“H-hey! Stop that!” She pulled the hem of her nightgown away, her cheeks flushed. He only chuckled, moving his hands from her night up to her waist.

“So soft and warm. Humans always are so soft and smell so good, but you smell the best. Mmm…”

He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. (Name) couldn’t help but whimper at the man’s close proximity. She’d lived a quiet life with her parents, and now some creature was fondling her in her childhood home. Her parents would be so disappointed!

She tried to pretend to dislike the attention she was getting, but couldn’t ignore her fluttering heart. No one had ever treated her like a woman before, and he certainly was.

(Name) jumped when the door opened, nearly falling and hitting her head. Before she could think someone was catching her in their arms.

(Name) looked up to see a demon with the prettiest blue eyes she’d ever seen. He watched her with hesitation, holding her up just long enough to stand in her feet. She didn’t even notice she was leaning into his touch, her only indication was the rumbling of his chest when he spoke.

“(Name), we’ve been waiting for you. Sekido needs to speak with you.”

He spoke as if you had known each other for years, guiding you with his large clawed hands ever so gently to the living room.

Sat on your father’s favorite chair was a man with red eyes, his aura was intimidating. (Name) shrunk away, clinging into the blue eyed man’s side. He pat her head reassuringly.

“Sekido, you may want to try and look less frightening. Humans are fragile beings, and she is a woman.” He was calm, the feeling of (Name) clinging to his side filling his chest with pride. Sekido frowned, but tried his best to remain calm.

(Name) turned and looked at Sekido with her big (e/c) eyes, causing the man to smirk.

“Perfect. Come here, woman.”

When she didn’t move, he turned his gaze to the man. “Aizetsu, bring her.”

Aizetsu obliged, walking forward. “Karaku, bring the ring.”

Sekido pulled the woman into his lap, resting his hand on her stomach. She shivered as his breath tickled her neck.

Karaku walked into the room, holding a purple pouch in his clawed hand. He approached (Name) keeping his eyes locked on hers. She tried, but couldn’t look away from his glowing green orbs.

Karaku plopped the bag into her awaiting hands, giving her a kiss on her forehead before he backed away.

She stared down at the cloth bag, wondering why she had been given it. Sekido’s already short patience wore thin and he yelled at her to open it.

“O-ok!”

She opened the bag, wiggling around in his lap to untangle the cord. He grunted, holding her hips still. She tried to ignore the feeling of something poking her but as she finally got the bag open.

(Name) turned it upside down and shook it lightly. The feeling of cold metal hitting her palm was enough to tell her it had fallen out.

“It’s… a ring.”

(Name) gazed down at the silver ring, a simple crystal in the middle. It was the only jewelry she’d ever held, and she was immediately captivated by it.

“Yes. I heard human women like to be proposed to with rings.” Sekido smirked, his chest swelling with pride. She turned to look at him, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Propose? You want to marry… me?”

All the men in the room voiced their approval, gathering around her. Sekido, stood, holding her in his arms with ease.

“You can think this over, but it’s made up in our minds. You are ours, but according to human customs we will give you time to think things over.”

She didn’t think he understood what thinking things over meant.

——————

Having a bunch of men crowd in her house was a lot less scary than (Name) thought it would be.

Aizetsu helped her clean, Urogi helped her cook, Karaku gathered firewood, and Sekido did repairs on she couldn’t.

Along with their helpful actions, the men had been behaving… strangely. She’d already figured out they weren’t human from their appearances and lack of human knowledge, but she thought that’s where their differences ended.

Not true.

Urogi had recently started bringing her… gifts. Sometimes, it was shiny things he’d found on his flights, and other times it was freshly killed animals and bags of gore. She tried not to think of where that came from.

Karaku had taken to purring at her to get her attention, which usually worked because she found it cute. This quickly turned into biting and growling when she didn’t respond quickly enough.

Sekido watched her. Constantly. At first this was reassuring. He’d follow her at night and make sure she was safe, and sometimes even carry her where she wanted to go. Recently he tried following her everywhere, this included to the bathroom and into her room when she was changing.

Aizetsu was the most tame, only wishing to be with her as much as possible. This only bothered her in the mornings when she couldn’t escape his iron grip to go pee.

She’d had about enough of this strange behavior, so she called all the boys to gather in her living room.

“Okay, why are you four acting so strange? Sorry to say but humans don’t like being followed, growled at, given bags with questionable contents, and being held for too long!”

She let out a huff and crossed her arms, her foot tapping away at the floor. The four exchanged looks, seeming confused.

“(Name), this is common demon courting etiquette”

She stopped, tilting her head. “Courting etiquette?”

“Yes, when a demon finds a suitable mate they court them with gifts, mark them, protect them, and spend time with them.”

(Name) nodded. “That makes sense. So how do I get y’all to stop your… courting?”

Sekido steps forward, offering her the ring. “All you have to do is accept our proposal.”

(Name) but her lip and weighed her options. On one hand, (Name) didn’t know if she was okay with the thought of marrying demons, but on the other hand… she’d grown to quite like the four over the past month. She didn’t know if she could go back to living alone, with no one to wake up beside her.

“I… I accept.”

The four let out a cheer, even Sekido seemed happier than usual. She was quickly surrounded, being kissed and nipped at from all angles.

“Now that you’ve accepted…”

Sekido reaches out a claw hand that traces down her side and lands at her hip. His eyes focus on her neck, and he leans down to inhale her scent.

“We can consummate this marriage.”

A/N: please leave a comment if you’d like a spicy~ part 2!

#x reader #anime x reader #headcanon #reader insert #requests open #smut requests #kny x reader #kny urogi #kny headcanons #kny #kny rengoku #kny x y/n #kny karaku #karaku smut #urogi x reader #karaku x reader #urogi smut #sekido x reader #sekido smut #kny sekido #kny aizetsu #aizetsu smut #aizetsu x reader #aizetsu #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x female reader #demon slayer smut #hantengu x reader #hantengu clones x reader #kny hantengu

[hees-mine]

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬 𝐩𝐭. 𝟖

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warning: smut, unprotected sex, sir kink, crying, angst, taboo relationship, angst, fluff.

Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, taboo relationship, minors do not interact!

WC: 3,186k

Decided to make a longer chapter also kinda wanted to add a daddy kink but would that be weird? I feel like it would :/ lmk also I think there will only be one or two chaps left after this one

⟱⟱⟱

It took every last ounce of strength to pull yourself out of bed after heeseung came into the guest bedroom. All you wanted to do was lay there in his arms, wake up to his pretty eyes staring at your own, but you couldn't, and you knew that, so with a heavy heart, you moved his arm that was draped over your body and snuck out quietly, leaving him all alone.

You went on about your day or tried to, but the image of him crawling into your bed last night and hugging you was still fresh in your mind.

You remembered what he said about not caring anymore if you both got caught, but he was drunk. Surely, he wouldn't say that sober. You convinced yourself of that and erased the thought from your mind completely.

Even though you did your best to try and ignore him, it didn't work, or maybe it would have worked if he didn't personally ask to speak with you when it got late and his daughter went to bed.

You know you shouldn't have, but your body dragged itself to his bedroom on its own. You knocked softly before entering. "Come in," you hear his voice through the door, and you have to take a deep breath before opening the door. You hated how the first thing you thought about was how handsome he looked in a plain black tank top and gray sweats.

"Y-you wanted to talk." You closed the door and stood awkwardly, staring down at your feet.

He nods even though you aren't looking at him. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for last night. I don't know what came over me; I was drunk, and I probably did and said things I shouldn't have," he admits.

"I figured." You lifted your head, finally looking at him and chuckling softly.

He smiled slightly, feeling a little less tense around you after he saw your little smile. "That being said, there is one thing that I truly meant, drunk or not." Your eyes widened a bit as your mind raced with thoughts of what exactly he could be talking about. "Look, y/n." he stood up, taking slow steps to your figure that was pressed against his door. "I love you, okay? You know that." He grabbed your hands, lacing your fingers with his. "And I don't know how this is going to work, but I need you. I know it's wrong, but I just can't let you go. I tried, but I can't." You looked up at him as he stared into your eyes, not even blinking once, showing his sincerity.

"Hee, we can-"

"Stop saying that we can't, princess" he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "If you want me too, we can," he whispers, tightening his hold on your tiny hands.

"What about your daughter, hee? There's just so many things that could go wrong. I could ruin your relationship with her, and I could also ruin our relationship. We've been friends for so long, and I just don't kno."

"Baby, I know, I know." he closed his eyes, resting his forehead on yours and cupping your cheeks. "We have to make it work, we have to," he whispers. "Since the day I saw you, you gave me butterflies, and baby, I tried so hard to control myself around you, but it was impossible, and now I just can't see myself living a life without you in it."

"Oh hee," you laughed softly and lifted your palm to his cheeks, rubbing it softly. "W-"

You paused as you heard his daughter's doorsteps coming down the hallway.

You and Heeseung quickly parted from each other, hearts racing in your chests.

Your eyes grew wide, and before you knew it, she was poking her head inside the door. "Dad?" She says, still half asleep.

"Hey, sweetpea, what's wrong?" He asks her while you take a few more discreet steps away from him.

"Nothing, I just thought I heard some sounds from your room," she mumbles.

"O-oh yeah, y/n was just uhh wondering if I had some extra toothpaste," he lies not so smoothly and smiles to distract her from the fact that he just lied to her face. You were definitely not looking for toothpaste.

She nods her head, shuffling back to her room and you. Both release a sigh of relief.

"That was close." Heeseung stood there, breath heavy and heart racing cause you both almost got caught.

"See? It'll never work," you reasoned, trying to calm down.

"Then let's just tell her y/n I need-"

"N-no hee, you think you need me, but you don't. Please, let's just end this." You backed away from him.

"Y/n, please," he hugged you in his arms. "Let's just try"

"No." Ever since you ended whatever you and him had, it seemed neither of you could be on the same page. One night, you wanted him, and the next night, you were screwing your head in straight and saying no.

Same for him. One night, he was telling you to leave his room, and the next, he's wrapped into your arms, and it's clear to see how much you were both fighting, but it had to be done because it could potentially ruin everything.

You pushed his arms off, and he stood there, obviously hurt, but you couldn't. You just couldn't. "Hee, you'll be fine without me. Maybe go on more dates. What about your co-worker? You have options, hee, just don't waste your time on me." Tears were welling in your eyes as you slowly walked to the door, him automatically following after you.

"I don't want anybody else, though." his eyes softened once he saw the tears in your eyes. "What don't you understand? I don't want to date my co-worker; I don't want to date, period, unless it's you. When I was with her, nothing felt the way it did when I was with you," he cupped your face, stroking your cheek softly. "Please believe me, don't you want more? Don't you want us to be happy together? We deserve each other, and you can't say otherwise cause I know you love me."

"I won't say it again, hee." You backed away from his touch as hard as it was you had to.

"Y/n, you're killing me," he whispers, and with that, you shut the door, leaving him before you stupidly run into his arms again, just like all the other times.

-

While sometimes it seemed like you and Heeseung were getting somewhere, you ultimately weren't, and you hoped now you were both seeing eye to eye.

Understanding that you and him would never work out.

It was back to the both of you ignoring each other, not even sharing glances anymore, and you could tell it was so hard for him. He looked completely defeated. His eyes were sunken in. He started locking himself in his office again, and you barely saw him. The look on his face when you first walked in almost brought tears to your eyes, but you kept telling yourself it was better this way. Even though your relationship with his daughter wasn't the same, it was still better than no relationship at all, you convinced yourself.

Heeseung would beg to differ, though this was affecting not just him but his work performance, his sleeping schedule, and his relationship with his daughter, whom he now barely talked to cause he engrossed himself in work like he always had when life got to be too much for him.

He knows it's unhealthy, but the quiet space and privacy of his office are what gave him some type of peace while everything fell apart. He did the same thing during his divorce, and he could feel himself going down the rabbit hole, only this time he might not make it out.

-

You put on a happy face only so his daughter wouldn't notice anything, but you were dying on the inside. It felt like without him, you would die. It hurt so much not seeing, hearing, or talking to him, but what could you do? Be selfish and start a relationship with him, or be the better person and just understand it was right people's wrong situation.

Heeseung has been avoiding you so much that you don't even see him anymore. It's been weeks since you saw him, and everything just felt so hopeless.

Usually, he'd pop his head out of his office when the coast was clear and grab a snack while you were in the living room, but he didn't do that anymore, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say he didn't even live there anymore.

Your friend looked to the side, knocking you from your thoughts and noticing your gloomy state. "What's wrong?" She asked, concerned. You hate the fact that you made her worry with your stupidity.

"Nothing," you put on a fake smile like you've been doing for the past month. "Just a little tired"

"You can sleep in my room," she offers, and it makes it hurt so much more cause she was so considerate, and here you are lying and fucking her dad behind her back.

"I wouldn't want to disturb you. I'll just go home soon," you politely declined.

"Oh, then use the guest room, my dad won't mind," and that was it. You could barely keep it together anymore.

"O-okay, goodnight." You nearly sprinted to the guest room, hearing a quiet goodnight from your friend, and you closed the door, leaning against it to let all your tears fall.

-

Heeseung had come out of his office hoping to catch a peek at you, but you were nowhere in sight. He grabbed some water from the fridge, joining his daughter on the couch. "Y/n leave?" He asks casually, making it sound like he wasn't dying to know your whereabouts.

"No, she was tired, so I let her use the guest room. I hope you don't mind," she pouted slightly, getting ready for a scolding.

"Of course not, sweetpea." he played with her hair and started watching whatever she was watching. "Learning your manners from the best dad ever," he chuckles, and of course, she only scoffs at him and rolls her eyes.

Although he was watching TV, he couldn't focus cause the thought of you being all alone in that room wouldn't leave his mind.

He felt bad for thinking this way, but he couldn't wait til his daughter went to sleep so he could go see you.

Which was only about half an hour later, so if he was lucky, you might still be awake. He peeped through the door, seeing you on your bed on your phone. "Hey," he whispers, and you nearly jump in surprise when you see him at your door.

"What are you doing?" You say, looking panicked as you rose up from bed.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he turns around, locking the door so there won't be any interruptions like last time.

He walks over to you, slipping under your covers and wrapping you in his arms like the other night, only this time he was sober. "What does it look like?" He says, pushing his face against your skin and placing kisses along your neck.

"Hee-"

"I don't want to hear it this time. We love each other, and that's all that matters." he climbs on top of you, pinning your wrist above your head, dipping his head down to kiss you while he circles his hips over your core.

"Mmph," you moan instantly when he kisses you. His soft bulge rutting against your core is already making it really hard for you to say no. "Fuck” you curse, body heating up instantly cause you've wanted this so bad you tried to suppress your urges for him, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't think about you and him in many different compromising positions and to finally feel him again was just feeding all those urges that your body couldn't deny no matter how much you tried to fight it.

"If you don't want to, I'll stop, okay?" He leans back, pausing his movements, making sure he has your full consent.

"Don't stop, hee, please I need you so fucking bad missed you so much," you cry out as he kisses the side of your lips, hips grinding on your front, and you feel his cock getting harder as he humps your clothed cunt.

"Me too," he whispers and trails his hand down, slipping it under your shirt and gripping your supple breast in his right hand. "So soft," he whispers on your lips.

"Ahh hee," you moan, arching up into him for more.

"Yeah?" He breaths out, freeing your other hand. "Arms up." You obediently lift your arms so he can easily peel your shirt off. "So fucking gorgeous," he whines at the sight and quickly attaches his mouth to your perked nipple, kneading the other with his left hand as you tangle your fingers in his silky hair.

Your eyes flutter shut as you squirm under him, whining from the pleasure. "Please take your clothes off."

He doesn't even have to be told twice. He quickly got up, stripping himself entirely for you, and you nearly drooled at the sight of his big cock. You missed, sucking him off and feeling him fucking it into you so bad.

Getting back on the bed, he situates himself above you as you slip your bottoms to your knees. He soon takes over and drags them down to your ankles until they're off finally, and you both share a smile before he lays on top of you, making out with your soft, juicy lips that he loved so much. "What do you want sir to do now?" He whispers in your ear, biting it gently.

"Fuck me please, sir, need your cock in me so bad," he groans from your straightforwardness, and he can tell by the neediness of tone you missed this as much as he did.

"Fuck yeah? Need sir to fill that little hole probably aching for, huh? Begging for my cock? It's been a while. I bet you were just dying to get it right, baby hole, just so wet and needy for sirs dick?" He rubs his tip on your entrance, mixing your precum together and drenching his shaft in the wet stickyness.

"God, yes," you whimper, eyes rolling into your skull as you squeeze around nothing. "Yes, want it, sir. Been so empty without you" You spread your legs wide open, showing him how you clench desperately for his cock and how much you're already dripping for him.

"Don't worry, princess, sirs gonna do you right." he holds your hips, shifting your body as his tip meets your hole. He throws his head back as he ruts forward, his tip getting lost in your creamy wetness. "Oh fuck” he huffs out, chest muscles tensing as your tight walls welcome him in.

"Hmmp fuck” you whine, rotating your hips, trying to get him to put it all the way in.

"Oh god, princess, you feel so fucking good" he looks down as he thrusts forward, watching the way your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back. "Missed this," he breathed out, bending over and kissing your lips as he pushed all the way in your walls, stretching them open just for him.

"Oh hee," You gripped his shoulders, pulling him in as close as possible to kiss him deeply as he thrust in and out, his wide tip brushing on your walls perfectly.

He dug his hands into the sheets, fisting them each time your walls fluttered around his hard cock. "Y/n," he whimpers softly, losing himself in the feeling. It was so intense he was already twitching in need to fill you with his cum.

He tucked his arm under your head, kissing you feverishly as you moved your hands to his waist, strumming his back and sides. "So deep, oh my god fuck yes, yes, yes, yes" Your whines only made him pick up his pace, going faster as he gave you every last inch of his dick til his balls brushed against your ass that was wet with a mixture of your guys precum.

"Princess, I'm already so close," he mewls and hides his face in your neck, feeling bad that he can't make it last longer for you, but your next words take him by surprise.

"Me too" he slips his hand between your bodies, pinching your clit between his fingers rolling softly and then transitioning to a soft rub, the pad of his thumb stroking your clit perfect your toes curl as you bite your lip, body hot and tingling in anticipation, to cum around his thick cock.

"So fucking tight," he groaned, licking your bottom lip as he bucked his hips nonstop, filling up the room with smacking sounds. "I'm going to cum” he says against your lips, and the way you squeeze sends him over the edge, his cum shooting inside you in long hit spurts.

"Cum in me, yes, please, sir, fill me up" His warmth invades your insides, filling you to the absolute brim, and you feel complete with his warm cum and cock buried deep inside you.

"Come on, baby cum on sir's cock. I know you want it. Come on," he encourages as he fondles your clit, and you reach your climax seconds later, he quickly covers your moans with a kiss so you both wouldn't make too much noise.

He steadied his tired hips, thrusting a few more times till your highs faded away.

For at least the next three minutes, you both lay there kissing each other, melting against one another, and you only pull away when you need to breathe, and even then, he pulls you back, not wanting your lips away from him for even a second. "I love you," he says in the kiss, his hot breath fanning your flushed cheeks. "I love you so much." he pecks your lips one last time and cradles you in his arms.

"I love you too." You smile at him, and so does he, not being able to hide his feelings of happiness. "You're so cute." You kissed the tip of his nose, running your fingertips along his sweaty back.

You both lay there satisfied and content, but of course, that nagging feeling makes its way into both of your systems. "Let's just keep it this way. We don't have to let anyone. I promise we won't get caught, and if somehow we do, I'll fix it, okay? I'll make sure we stay together no matter what, yeah? Look at me." You turn to face him, your eyes a little teary, not from sadness but just how much he was willing to go through for you. "I got you, princess," he promises, and there's no way he was going to go back to the way things were last time.

⟱⟱⟱

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #heeseung angst #heeseung fluff #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen hyung line #enhypen smut

[moonchildstyles]

oleander

oleander part one: nothing could draw y/n in the way harry could

wordcount: 11.7k+

cw: this leans into some darker themes including a description of a dead body, mentions of a parent who has passed away, some panic attack descriptions, and just in general some doom and gloom vibes! but I promise this is a love story im just doing something diferent!

—————

(Y/N)'s eyes followed the immaculately dressed figure floating through the shop. Barred from getting closer with the counter in front of her, she could only watch as he made his way through the small apothecary. He never glanced in her direction, though she doubted he was unaware of her eyes on him. 

Dried herbs hung around his head like a dreary halo, the muted tones falling in line with the rich brown of his hair. He was tall enough that he just barely grazed the line of lavender sprigs strung up and dehydrating above his head. His coat was of a deep green velvet, tailored to show off the broad of his shoulders and strength of his arms. The matching cravat around his neck stood out starkly against the white shirt under his grey waistcoat, his skin appearing almost as pale as the starchy collar standing stiff against his throat. She wished that he would turn around for just a second; she wanted to see his eyes. Were they really as dark as she remembered, or had the town's gossip altered her memory? 

As if hearing her thoughts, he quickly picked his head up and made to turn and match her gaze. She urgently dropped her eyes to her hands, pretending as if she had been preoccupied the whole time by the bundles of sage she was meant to be tying. Now her wishes turned to that of hoping he didn't catch her staring. She was sure he got enough of that as is when he bothered to venture down to their small village; he didn't need any more when he was simply trying to shop. 

Forcing herself to keep her eyes down, (Y/N) tried to forget the Count's presence (was he even a Count? She wasn't sure, but that was what she had heard the women at church calling him, and no one seemed to object). She hoped he couldn't hear the sound of her heart as easily as she could, the beats pounding through her ears just from the fact she knew he was traipsing around her father's shop. Casting her gaze out the small window situated by the collection counter, she tried to see past the thick fog that had gathered that morning and done little to dissipate through the hours. If not for the fact she had lived here all her life, she would have had problems navigating through the mist. She wondered how someone like the Count fared under these conditions. He barely left that castle of his, how did he or his footmen know where they were going this time of year?

Granting herself a single peek in his direction, she saw he had gone back to shopping. He moved so silently, she wondered how he was able to cross the apothecary so vastly without a single footstep being heard. She watched as he brought bundles of herbs to his nose, taking in the heady scent. He always did this, she noticed. He always looked around until he found the strongest smelling bundles. 

Truthfully, to (Y/N), all the bundles smelled the same. She couldn't notice if one sprig of lavender smelled richer than another, but maybe he knew something she didn't. It wouldn't surprise her if he spent his young years studying herbs and reading books about all of the healing plants, or whatever it was that young gentlemen did in their formative years.

Though it was a hard task to pull her eyes away from him, (Y/N) made the effort to do so. Her father really would be upset if she didn't tie up all these bundles before sundown; he barely liked her working at the apothecary as is, he didn't need any other reason to boot her from the counter.

With her eyes trained on her fingers and the clumsy bows she was tying out of twine, (Y/N) practically jumped out of her skin when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Pale hands dropped bundles of herbs on the counter, just barely in her line of sight. Her breathing stuck in her throat when she whipped her head up, finding the Count looking at her with his dark eyes. 

She hadn't misremembered, it appeared. His eyes really were almost black, just barely tinted a forest green on the edges—if the forest in question was being spotted in the pitch of night, only a sliver of the moon and stars above allowing any distinction.

Her heart jumped in her throat, running faster than it had any reason to when their eyes met. She forced herself to swallow it down.

"I'm sorry, sir," she muttered, unable to pull her gaze away from his even if she instinctively wanted to look anywhere else. "Did you find all you were looking for?" 

"I did, yes." His voice was a lulling rumble, rounded and heady as if the goal was to lure her nearer. If not for the table separating them, she would have fallen for it.

Offering a quiet smile, she gave him a polite nod. 

No other words were exchange, as per usual for his visits. The Count wasn't much for conversation and idle chatter like the rest of the village. Instead, she could feel him watching her as she counted up his herbs and the price of each bundle. 

He was buying the same ones he always did: winter savory (he switched to chamomile when out of season), tobacco, and lavender. 

The buds together created a confusing scent, adding to the mishmash of what the apothecary already was. She couldn't imagine how he would put these three together in any space of that castle, the mixture too aggressive. 

Though she tried her best to concentrate on only the herbs, (Y/N) was too aware of the static of his presence. She wondered what he thought when he came down to the village, what he thought when he interacted with people like her. He was always so stoic. He never gave anything away, though that didn't stop the village gossip from running wild about him.

Swallowing around her dry throat, heartbeat bubbling against her ribs, she matched his gaze. The pricing for his bounty came out on buzzing lips, "Sixteen shillings please, sir." 

He didn't bat an eyelash at the price despite it being the biggest single purchase her father's apothecary would see until the next time he ventured down. Instead, he looked at her with his dark eyes and a tic in his jaw. He was unbearably handsome, made of cut edges and smooth planes, but he always looked at her as if he were angry and working to bury it down. She could never figure out why or what exactly made his nostrils flare or his jaw tight when he spoke to her, but she hoped she wasn't the only one he reacted to like this. 

His hands moved quickly, pulling out a small pouch of tinkling coins before he plucked out the exact amount for her. For a moment, she could see bank notes tucked inside the pouch as well. While she wasn't surprised that someone like him would have that kind of wealth, she had never seen it before with her own eyes. 

Passing off the change to her, his pale fingers grazed her open palm. Goosebumps immediately raised across her skin, his touch feeling as if he had been standing in the dawn's dew for hours, allowing the chill to cling to his skin and leach away all hope for warmth. The graze was quick, barely a heartbeat long, but she swore she could feel the lingering touch for moments after. Maybe he really did have a hard time navigating the village when the fog was this thick, having traveled in winding routes and wrong turns for so long he still hadn't been able to heat up even after spending time in the shop. 

Flicking her gaze up to his on instinct, she saw he was looking at the swatches of skin exposed from her dress, eyeing the goosebumps he had plucked up on accident. 

(Y/N) cleared her throat, nothing more than a reminder to herself to keep professional and not to gawk at the man. She placed the change in the small cup underneath the collection counter before reaching for his herbs of choice. A length of twine was used to tie up his product, ensuring he didn't lose anything on his way back home. 

"Thank you," he muttered once she passed them back, their skin no longer grazing this time. 

"Have a pleasant journey back home," she chirped, her voice decidedly pleasant against the bubbling she was feeling inside, "Stay warm." 

The Count didn't give any kind of reaction to her before he was leaving the shop in a flourish. Taking advantage of the window at her disposal, she watched as he ventured out into the fog. The mist mingled around him, making him appear as if he were a ghost—one with the Earth-bound clouds. She was only vaguely aware of the way her body heat ticked up some now that he had left. 

Though she could hear the sound of footsteps descending the stairs that led up to their home a floor above, (Y/N)'s head was outside the shop and away from her father. She didn't turn even when she could tell he had made it to the landing. He was used to it by now, she knew. Her head was always miles away as far as he was concerned—thinking too big for the village with daydreams that were only going to hurt her in the long run. 

The air around her shifted, telling her that her father was just behind her, likely watching to see what had caught her attention this time. 

"Is that Harry?" he grumbled, spitting out the name while dismissing the faux-title since they were alone. 

Her father didn't much like the Count—Harry, as he bitterly spat out. (Y/N) was never sure what precisely had set off her father's distaste for the man, just knowing that he thought Harry to be something of a boogeyman against the village. He didn't even go to church, her father regularly complained. What kind of man was he if he couldn't even bother to trudge down from his palace to spend some time with God, even if it was in the presence of commoners? 

(Y/N) never really minded. Though she'd never tell her father, church was boring. She couldn't blame Harry—the Count, whatever she was supposed to call him—for skipping out. Especially with the peeks at the castle she could garner if she trekked through the woods far enough. She wouldn't want to leave that place for anything. 

Nonetheless, (Y/N) answered with a soft, "Yes." Her eyes were still locked on the form of him she could barely make out through the mist. 

A grunt of disapproval left her father's lips. She didn't have to look at him to know that he had his arms crossed over his chest. "Are you okay?" 

It was when he settled a hand on her shoulder that she snapped out of her staring. 

"Yes, I'm well," she answered as placidly as possible when she turned to face him. She didn't want to show just how affected she was by the Count. Her father would do more than just grunt and disapprove if he knew just how drawn to the man as she was. 

He peered through the window, his eyes surely finding the one dark figure filtering through the fog. His brows slanted into harsh slashes over his eyes. "From now on, I want you to find me when he comes in, and I will take over. I do not want him talking with you." 

Her fingertips buzzed at the new instructions, matching the kickstart to her heartbeats. As much as she heard her father's concerns, and had listened in to all the of the stories and webs spun about this man, those did little to deter her interest in Harry or quell the bubbling in her chest every time she saw him step inside the apothecary. 

"I can handle him, father," she countered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible while attempting to hold her ground, "We barely talk when he comes in, anyway." 

The creases between his brows only deepened when he matched her gaze. "I do not want you becoming one of his victims, (Y/N)."

Her lips thinned at his words. "All of those stories are rubbish, father, you know that," she pressed, her words lighthearted despite the argument she was wagering by not immediately giving in, "Since when have we started listening to what Mary and Ethel have to say?" 

He didn't break any, even when she knew she was making a valid point to him. Gossip was prohibited according to the Bible, and yet he was citing stories she had heard the worst of gossipers weave?

There was no real reason for anyone to believe that Harry had anything to do with what had been going on just outside of the village, he was just easy to pin it on seeing as no one really knew him. She doubted any of them—including Ethel and Mary—could actually believe that he was the one behind the bodies that had been found in the woods, and the disappearances that had been added to the murder count. 

From what she'd heard, all signs pointed to animal attacks—wolves, or bears, or anything viscous. Though her stomach curdled at the thought, she couldn't see the Count being the one to rip out commoner's throats, to leave them crumpled in the brush with blood sinking into the earth. All of it was gossip and evil rumors that had not even a shred of truth inside.

"Still," her father stated, countering her argument, "There's something wrong with him, (Y/N)." 

Wrong was very far from threatening as far as she was concerned, especially when it came to Harry. Though, this most likely wasn't the time to share that opinion. She would keep her thoughts about him to herself, her own small secret against the rest of the village.

Harry didn't scare her like he did the rest of them, but they didn't need to know that. 

"Okay," she relented with a quiet nod, turning back to the collection cup so she could pass off the earnings to her father. "I will come grab you next time." 

(Y/N) wasn't sure if it was the additional shillings added to the cup or her pleasant agreement that had her father's features relaxing with a small smile on his lips, but she wasn't going to object.

Besides, she wasn't going to actually follow through on her promise. Harry was her favorite customer, even if she wouldn't admit it out loud. Her father would have to try harder to steer her clear of Harry.

—————

(Y/N) struggled with the strap of her shopping baskets, one hanging from her shoulder over her back with another dangling from her hand. They were stocked full and heavy, filled with everything her father requested that morning before she was sent off. She hadn't even realized how late she was running with her errands, how many items she had picked up and how heavy her bags were becoming until the sun had already gone down and her shoulder ached with the amount she had packed in. 

With the season's change, the sky was almost pitch by the time she made it to the edge of the village, the air chilled and crisp. Her father was going to have her head for making it back so late, but what could he have expected, really? He was the one that wrote the list, knowing half of the items were only available in the neighboring village. 

She hummed as she followed the path, giving herself some company and filling the silence. She hated being out this late—the dark scared her more than it probably should at her age. 

Her steps slowed as the bag hanging from her shoulder once again began to shift. No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't stay put. She attempted to adjust the strap once more as she cautiously stepped over the path. 

With her attention placed elsewhere, she didn't notice the man in her way until she bumped directly into him. 

Her heart started in her chest, rattling against her ribs. She jumped back, whipping her head up with wide eyes. Before her stood the familiar dark-haired figure she had seen just a week prior, pursuing through the apothecary. 

Harry's cut features were pinched with a furrowed brow, his dark eyes trained on her. He was pale like a ghost compared to his dark clothing that blended in with the rest of the night. He reached out to steady her, baskets and all, when she tottered on the low heel of her boot. 

His touch singed her like snowflakes as he grasped at her bare arms. 

"H-Harry," she gasped, his name falling from her lips before she had a chance to collect her bearings. Her skin warmed when her brain caught up with herself; she'd never called him by his name before—or called to him at all now that she thought about it. "I am so s-sorry." 

What exactly she was apologizing for—using his name so brashly or running right into him—she wasn't sure, but she could cover for both, she figured. 

"It is alright," he murmured to her, his hands lingering on her biceps, "I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine, thank you," she asserted, "I wasn't looking where I was going. It has been a long day." 

Tipping his head, as if her word wasn't enough, Harry looked her over before dropping his hands from her arms and taking a calculated step back.  

"I'm sure it was," he said to her, his voice still a low whisper, "Is what why you are out so late?" 

(Y/N) eased into the conversation, despite knowing it was more than a little inappropriate to be alone with a man this late into the evening. She was flattered the Count wanted to speak to her at all, honestly. He always seemed so eager to flee from the apothecary and the rest of the village during his visits. In her dreamland, she liked to think that he actually enjoyed seeing her, this run-in being his opportunity to speak to her without all of the prying eyes trained on him. 

"Yes," she sighed, shifting the small basket on her aching wrist to the other, "I had to do the shopping today, and my father always requests things he knows I have to search all over for, so I've been busy since I woke up." 

Harry hummed at her words, his dark eyes seemingly lighting up with amusement at her trivial complaint. He eyed the heavy bags she was carrying before he met her eyes once more. "Would it be alright if I accompany you back home? It's too dark for a lady like yourself to be walking alone."

Biting back a smile, (Y/N) felt her blood warm under her skin. Someone of his status would know a lady when he looked at one, and (Y/N) definitely wasn't. He had to be teasing her. 

"I'm no lady," she explained, though she didn't sound that convincing under her smile, "But, I think I would really enjoy some company. Thank you." 

(Y/N) was well aware of what it would look like to be walked home by Harry at this time of night, alone on the path and unchaperoned. It would have been bad enough with any man, but seeing as this was the Count, she could only imagine the kinds of rumors Mary and Ethel would spin. The fluttering in her heart urged her to ignore those worries, though; Harry most likely knew better about societal standards than she, given their stations, and he had enough rumors swirling about him that he wouldn't want to add to if he could help it. If he wasn't worried, then she wouldn't either. 

"Lead the way," he said, smiling at her with dazzlingly perfect teeth. 

"Its not too far," she started, peering down the path to see the late night tavern still boiling with people and the small homes that decorated the mouth to the village. "It's just down that way," she told him, nodding her head in the direction they were to take. 

Before she went too far, she adjusted her grocery-laden baskets once more, barely holding back a wince at the weight on her shoulder. 

Harry still seemingly noticed even if she had tried to be discreet. He didn't immediately follow her steps back home. "Let me carry those for you. They can't be too comfortable after such a long day." 

While she was sure it was good form to decline his offer, feign strength she didn't have and continue on without complaint, she wasn't going to pass up on the offer to relieve the stress on her shoulder. 

"I would really appreciate that, actually," she sighed, shifting the basket off her shoulder in a haste, "Thank you." 

"No need to thank me," he answered simply, a pleasant lightness to his features as he took the strap from her hands. He slung it over his own shoulder with an ease (Y/N) could only dream to have. He didn't stop there, taking the smaller one from her wrist as well. 

She was free to roll her joints and feel circulation return to all limbs, more than gracious for her impromptu partner for the night. 

"You said it was this way, yes?" he prompted, starting down the path towards the edge of town where both the apothecary was as well as the flat above it where she and her father resided. 

"That way," (Y/N) affirmed with a smile, falling into step beside him as they started off through town. 

A careful silence fell between them, full of opportunities that twinkled like stars. This was her chance to know him, bask in his presence, learn who she had only gazed at from afar. Though every time she looked at him from the corner of her eye, she felt her throat dry. He was even more gorgeous under moonlight. 

"You know," he started first, unbraiding the silence, "I don't think I've ever seen you come out from behind that counter. I was starting to think you never left; like you were some kind of spirit attached with manning an apothecary at all hours." 

A bubbling peal of laughter felt from (Y/N)'s lips, her hands a fumbling bundle at her waist. "It feels that way, sometimes," she smiled, "But I promise I do have more hobbies than only drying herbs and counting coin." 

"And what might those be?" the Count pressed, looking down at her. In the low light, (Y/N) expected his eyes to look impossibly dark, more like coal than even in the daylight, but she found that ring of green to show more prominently now under the moon. 

"Um," she floundered, tearing her eyes away from his when she felt goosebumps raise over her skin and her heart bounce against her lungs, "I-I like to tend to our garden—for the shop." 

"I didn't know grow everything yourself. That must keep you rather busy." 

(Y/N) shrugged, "It can, depending on the season. But, I've figured it out through the years, and made it easier on me."

"You grow everything for your shop, then?" Coming up to a fork in the path, Harry paused, waiting for (Y/N) to take the first step in the right direction before he followed. 

"Most of it," she mused, an immediate list of their inventory coming to mind, "There's still a few things that I have to scavenge for, but I've become rather good at that as well."

"I don't doubt that," Harry smiled, the curl audible in his voice, "Was it your idea then to start the shop? Fill it with all the things you could grow?" 

"Oh, no," she declined, a furrow appearing in her brow, "My father and mother started the apothecary when my sister and I were still babies." 

"I don't think I've met your sister or mother," Harry shared, casting his gaze towards her once more, refractions of green shimmering in his irises.

While (Y/N) dreaded the subject, she couldn't exactly complain since she had been the one to bring them both up. Truthfully, it wasn't hard to talk about any more, it was harder to field the reactions of those around her when she shared the story. It was never easy to quell retroactive grief. 

"My sister married and moved to the country almost two years ago," she started easy, keeping her gaze forward, "My mother passed away when I was a child." 

When the Count didn't immediately answer, (Y/N) peeked up to find him looking at her differently than before. She didn't find pity swimming through his eyes, only sympathy. He looked at her like he knew her pain. 

"It is a hard thing, losing family," he murmured, shifting his gaze towards the sky, "But, it can only grow easier as time goes on." 

Tracing her eyes over his profile, through the immaculate stone-like chisel of his features and unblemished skin, she swore she could spot the same fine lines by his eyes and slight crease between his brows that she and her sister had sustained since their mother passed. 

She swallowed, hoping her next line of questioning didn't breach too far. "Have you lost family before?" 

"I have," he smiled, though it didn't completely reach those fine lines by his eyes, "It was a long time ago. It's funny how after a while, you can forget what it was like before." 

Though (Y/N) loved her mother dearly and cherished those memories she had with her, she had been without her for longer than she had been with her. She knew what Harry was talking about, exactly. Missing her mother was just a part of her now, and it wasn't anything she tired to push away or get over. She grew around the grief and held onto her mother in that space. 

"Exactly," she agreed, relieved to not be trying to quell someone else's grief and pity for her, "I've remembered her for longer than I actually knew her, but it does not upset me any more." 

"Good," Harry cemented, "She wouldn't want you to be bothered by her memory." 

Looking ahead, the town square was approaching with the town's tavern still full despite the late hour. That was the one place that could be bustling at any time of night, any day of the week. (Y/N) hoped no one would peer through the windows and catch her late night stroll. 

"I apologize for speaking so morbidly," (Y/N) laughed, though she didn't exactly feel guilty to be learning that much more about Harry, "Since you know more about me, I would like to know more about you." 

"I'm sure we could arrange that," he smiled that dazzling smile, "What would you like to know?" 

"I don't think I've ever seen you out in the village before, except for when you do your shopping," (Y/N) mused, hoping to learn a little bit more about what he did up in that castle of his. 

She watched as he shrugged, still completely unbothered by the weight of her shopping. "I come out every once in a while," he prattled, "But I suppose we never have run into each other until now. What a shame." 

Her blood warmed at his final comment. He really must be teasing her, trying to pull those shy reactions from her. 

Before she had a chance to say much in response, the rowdy tavern only a few meters ahead burst open with sloppy patrons spilling onto the street. The men were undoubtedly drunk as was apparent in the slurring of their shouts and the stumbling of their feet. Everything was too loud for the quiet of the night, including the calls coming from inside the bar, urging the few that had escaped to come back inside. The night couldn't already be over, it was still early, those beckoning voices said. 

Maybe it was the dark of the night, the fact she had never been around anyone drunk enough to slur their words, or the stark sound of it all, but (Y/N) startled at the disturbance. She almost jumped out of her skin, her feet stumbling with her heels digging into the crumbling sidewalk. She could hear a gasp falling from her throat though she couldn't remember making the noise herself. 

Before she had time to recover, Harry had swiftly tugged her to his other side. She was now covered by his body with her other side sandwiched with the walls of the other buildings lining the street. From where the drunken men stood, she doubted they would be able to accurately spot her given her new cover.

"Thank you," she murmured, her thrumming heart beginning to slow finally. 

When he didn't respond, she looked up to find him shooting daggers towards the men that were being pulled back into the tavern. His sharp jaw was clenched shut with his eyes narrowed in their direction. 

"Harry?" she sounded, breaking him from whatever he had running through his head. 

He whipped his head to face her once more, blinking with a flutter of curling lashes. 

"Yes, sorry," he finally responded, "My apologies, I would have pulled you away sooner had I seen them coming." 

"It's alright," she tried to soothe, giving him a small smile, "The shop is just up there, I think I can survive a little while longer." 

He cast his gaze over her form for just a beat longer, his shoulder relaxing some by the time he met her eyes again. "I'll make sure of it," Harry teased, cracking a smile at her. 

They shared those final paces in silence, (Y/N) feeling rather proud of herself and a bit giddy to have had him at her side for this long, his attention on her. By the time the dark apothecary topped with the small flat came into view, she almost wished they would round the block once more. She still had more she wanted to ask him. 

"It has been a pleasure, Ms. (Y/N)," he bowed to her, carefully pulling her shopping baskets from his shoulder and wrist, "I hope I will see you again soon—maybe we'll run into each other like this more often." 

"Maybe," she smiled, taking the bags from him, "Thank you for escorting me home, and helping with my baskets." 

"It's my pleasure," he repeated once more, the green in his eyes flashing with amusement, "Have a good night." 

Inching towards the door, (Y/N) gave him a nod. "Good night, Harry." 

A soft lipped smile on his marble-perfect face was the last thing (Y/N) saw before she was stepping inside the apothecary. The bell above the door tinkled, alerting her father who would no doubt still be awake upstairs.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" he called down the stairs, the creak of his favorite rocking chair sounding as he stood. 

"Yes, sorry!" she answered, bracing herself to trek up the steep stairs to the flat with her body weighed down with all of the groceries. "I didn't mean to take so long." 

"I don't like you staying out so late after the sun goes down," her father chided her, pulling the bags from her form and taking them towards the tiny kitchen, "There's no telling what could be waiting in the dark." 

(Y/N) kept her mouth shut as her father went off on his complaints. She didn't mention Harry once.

—————

Dressed in her favorite nightgown with her hair braided back with the same twine she tied her herbs with, (Y/N) peered once more out her window, finding the same black cat that had been out there since she readied for bed still sitting in the garden. 

Her moon-yellow eyes were bright in the dark as she stalked and played with the bugs that threatened the state of (Y/N)'s herb garden. She had never seen the cat before, but she was tempted to convince her father to let her bring the creature inside. She would be a good pet, (Y/N) decided. 

Laying back against her pillows, only dim candle light allowing her to see her ceiling, (Y/N) cast her mind back to the hours earlier. Her day had been terribly uneventful, but had ended in heart-fluttering territory. 

Though she realized, thinking back to the conversation she had indulged in on her walk home, she never caught why Harry was out so late by himself, anyway.

—————

Grey clouds crowded the sky as (Y/N) carefully stepped over the vining brush at her feet. The hem of her dress snagged once or twice on some of the thorny bushes and the rough bark covering unearthed roots. Acres of towering trees formed a canopy above her head, barely letting any of the limited light through. She had her eyes on the ground as she tried to scope out those few herbs she wasn't able to cultivate at the home garden. The basket at her hip was already teeming with a good handful of different bundles, but she still needed to find some winter savory.

More than once, her mind wandered as she trekked through the trees. It had been a week since she had last seen Harry, and yet he was still the one thing that floated through her mind whenever she drifted to her daydreams. She could still see the line of his profile, backlit by the cloudy moonlight. In her dreams, she had the courage to reach out and trace over the line, grazing the bridge of his nose and the dip of his cupid's bow. He grew more and more gorgeous every time she revisited her memories. 

She was already known to have her head in the clouds, dreams too big for the village to contain, but she definitely floated upwards more and more since seeing Harry. 

A small smile worked its way onto her lips the longer she wafted through her reverie. (Y/N) liked to think that if she had acted on that impulse—dragging her fingertip along the planes of his features—that he would have cracked a smile, showing off the thumbed dimples and dazzling teeth. Maybe, he would have even looked at her, wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her to his chest before dipping her in the middle of the street. He could kiss her then, the moment romantic and brazen and—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks the second she saw the dead body on the forest floor. 

If not for the pallor of her skin, she could have assumed this woman had fallen asleep peacefully among the brush. She looked to be around (Y/N)'s age, unbound hair spilling around her head. Her eyes were closed with her features set in a serene scene and arms crossed over her chest. Her palms were pressed flat over her collarbones, the same way those in coffins were laid to rest six feet under. The pose reminded her of her mother.

Though all of that tranquility went to hell when she saw her throat. 

While the woman had been laid to rest with utmost respect, that didn't take away from the fact her throat was ripped open. (Y/N) swore her own esophagus grew sore and tight while looking at the women. The skin had been slashed out of the way by something sharp and angry, revealing frayed sinew and torn muscle. The raw red hue stood out starkly against the snowy pallor her skin had taken on. Something had attacked her, taking out her throat and leaving her to die right where she lay. 

The most unsettling part, (Y/N) realized the longer she stood there, was that there was no blood. Where she expected to see a crimson crust forming around the wood or a puddle haloing the woman's form, there was nothing. Her wound didn't even look that gruesome, truly. It was clinically clean instead, as if a healer had already cared for her and planned on bandaging the tear before letting her head home. She had been bled completely dry, leaving her with rubbery skin, thin veins, and a clean white dress. 

She had heard about these incidences—people going missing only to turn up later dead—but she never pictured it was like this. To her, everything sounded as if wanderers were attacked in the woods are lost through the elements. Never once through her forages in the area had she ever met the face of someone whose life was taken so decidedly.

(Y/N) wanted to scream, she wanted to cry and panic and run. But, she just stood there. 

Time was stuck as she saw the woman with long red hair, unblemished skin, and a fine gown. 

All at once, the severity of the situation flooded back to her. 

Her sore throat was split open with a loud scream, blood-curdling and eye-watering. She dropped her basket to the floor, returning the herbs to where she had plucked them, before she sprinted towards home. Her dress caught on the thorns of the brush, her feet stumbling over the unearthed roots. None of the obstacles slowed her. She tugged her dress free with every pump of her legs, keeping herself steady with nothing other than the will of adrenaline and fear pushing he along. 

She didn't realize she had been crying until she saw the edge of the village in sight, her cheeks burning with her hands going numb. A man she recognized as one of her father's friends was out in his garden, cultivating the family vegetables when he looked up to see her, concern striking his features. 

"(Y/N)," the man called out, his voice echoing over the space.

Stumbling in her tracks, she fought to keep herself steady. Instinctively, she wanted to keep running until she made it back to her bedroom with her safety intact. She knew she couldn't do that, though. She had to tell someone about the woman, find her family and lay her to rest properly. 

Find who had hurt her. 

"Th-There—She's—Dead," (Y/N) panted, floundering around her jumbled mind. She couldn't find a single coherent thought in her head. 

The man's thick brows only furrowed as he cautiously approached her. "Dead?" he pressed, making himself appear smaller as if she were the creature to be cowering from for survival. 

Hearing someone else say the word had another round of sobs wracking through her body. "Sh—The girl—She's dead. In the woods, there's been another." 

Horror took the man's features. Blood drained from his face, leaving him shades paler than just moments before. 

"Another?" he asked, "Like the others?" 

"I-I think so," she stuttered, moments away from crumbling to the ground. She couldn't be sure if the state this young woman had been in was what the rest of the others had gone through. She hope it wasn't.

A curse was uttered under his breath before he shouted towards his home. He called for his wife, a woman (Y/N) vaguely knew from church. It only took a moment for a woman to stick her head out of the doorway, her features screwing up in worry the second she saw (Y/N)'s blubbering form.

She was only vaguely aware of the man explaining to his wife what (Y/N) had shared, and that he was going to get the others together to recover the body and care for her. His wife needed to take care of her, inform her father of what (Y/N) had seen today. 

Time moved impossibly slow while racing through each second simultaneously. At some point, she checked out, shock setting in as she came to terms with everything she had seen. By the time she returned, she had been deposited on the stoop of the church, a knitted blanket around her shoulders. Shivers wracked down her spine though she could feel herself breaking into a thin sweat. Many of the women of the village had swarmed around her, including Mary and Ethel. Feet away, her father was speaking with the vicar of the church. 

"Drink this, dear," Mary said, shoving a warm mug of something in her hands. 

(Y/N) made no move to follow her given directly, loosely gripping the cup in her palms. Her gaze was barely focused, tears still running down her cheeks, as she absently stared at the cobblestone under her boots. 

Every time she blinked, she saw the bloodless wound on the woman. Her thin, lavender eyelids masking unseeing eyes. Her thin fingers, the pale skin barely covering the bones underneath. The sections of her neck that were frayed and ripped, matching that of the hem of her dress. 

Murmurs arose once more around her. (Y/N) had no doubt there was already speculation about who could have done this—who would have killed someone in such a way that an onlooker end up as traumatized as the dead. A part of her brain pinged, knowing that Mary and Ethel would no doubt be peering accusingly at the castle in the distance, their accusations known without a single word leaving their lips. 

Now more than ever, having seen a body, (Y/N) had no doubt that Harry had nothing to do with these disappearances. 

No human could do what she saw in the woods. 

—————

"Let me grab my coat, and John and I will escort you back home." 

(Y/N) did her best to school her features, regulate her reaction before reaching a gentle hand on Margret's shoulder to keep her from ascending the stairs. 

"Oh, no," (Y/N) declined, canting her head with a soft smile, "You've already been too kind tonight. I can make it on my own—home's barely a block away." 

Margret chewed her lip between her teeth, looking over her shoulder to where her parents were standing by the hearth. So many eyes were on them and their interaction. 

"Really, Marg," (Y/N) tried again, "My father and I appreciate everyone's kindness enough, I would hate to put you out even more and make you go out in a storm like this." 

"But," Margret started, "I don't want to leave you alone. The storm is bad enough without everything that... happened." 

Almost two weeks had passed since (Y/N)'s run-in in the woods, and yet the village's paranoia was at an all-time high. Her father had been at her side near constant since he had finished speaking with the vicar, promising her that he wouldn't let that happen again—finding something so gruesome, as well as a silent promise that she wouldn't become the gruesome sight. He had been shaken by her reaction, telling the vicar that he had never seen her so vulnerable, on the edge of hysterics. 

Any herb they couldn't grow in the garden would now be out of stock until he himself could forage through the woods, but she would never be tasked with going by herself. Otherwise, he was going to be at her side as often as he could be, ensuring she was never alone. If he couldn't be there, then he had pooled together a batch of close family friends who would be willing to stand in for him. She would never be by herself, never vulnerable to another fright. 

(Y/N) was losing her mind. 

Everyone walked on eggshells around her, having seen her breakdown in real time. They heeded her father's request as if law, never allowing her even a second of alone time if not in the safety of her bedroom. Even her time in the garden had been reduced to a field trip for every young woman who was tasked to be at her side, chattering about the most lighthearted of subjects.

While in a few ways, (Y/N) couldn't blame her father, she selfishly didn't really care. She needed her freedom, even if that freedom came in the form of a short walk to her home by herself. 

"I promise I will be alright," (Y/N) tried to soothe her friend, offering her beaming smile to Margret's parents and brother as well. "Thank you all for dinner, please don't let me add to the burden by making you all escort me home in a storm. I would never forgive myself if any of you fell ill." 

It was Margret's mother that seemed to waver from (Y/N)'s reasoning. She most likely didn't want her children out in the rain, either. (Y/N) wasn't the only one in the village that needed to be protected from whatever lived in the woods. 

Peering over her shoulder, Margret searched for her parents blessing that came in the form of a small dip of her father's chin. 

"I will come visit you in the morning, then," Margret cemented, "to make sure you're alright." 

"I look forward to it," (Y/N) chirped, bringing her friend in for a small hug before inching towards the front door. She gave her beaming smile to the rest of the family. "Thank you again," she said, "Dinner was wonderful. I'll have to steal the recipe sometime, Mrs. Wayfield." 

"I'll send it with Margret in the morning, dear," she said, her smile tight, "Get home safe. Don't linger longer than you have to." 

"Absolutely," (Y/N) promised, pulling the hood of her purple cloak over her head. 

Final goodbyes were shared before (Y/N) stepped outside, the raging storm that had been rattling the roof of the home now whipping against her form.

As much as the wind stung her eyes and the rain chilled her skin, she reveled in the experience. She was alone, finally. 

Despite what Mrs. Wayfield said, she definitely lingered longer than she needed to, allowing the rain to soak her cloak and begin to seep through her dress. She had never been one to steep in the rain or bask in storms, but that was going to be changing tonight. 

The direct walk home was decidedly short, taking less than a block's worth of steps to take her there, but she was going to make it as long as possible. She might even take the scenic route, stepping through the center of town for no reason at all other than she wanted to. 

Heavy droplets of rain weighed down her cloak the longer she took outside, the wind whipping the hem around her in waves. Taking her time, she ambled over the cobblestones of the town square, ignoring the drops that slipped over her warm cheeks. 

Suddenly, the storm changed once she reached the center of town. 

Before, it had been nothing but rain and wind, the kind of storm that would put her to sleep in a matter of minutes. Something shifted in a matter of moments, taking the wind and amping it up into swirling chills. A crack of lightning lit up the sky, making shadowy ghosts of all the buildings and turning the trees into bony hands reaching towards the heavens. Thunder rattled the Earth a moment later. The large drops of rain quickly became a heavy downpour, slicking down her form until her clothing was stuck to her body and her eyes were struggling to blink through the droplets. Every time she peeked through slitted eyes, the sheets slammed down thick enough she could barely see through it.

The scenic route no longer seemed fun now that she was out here. She should have just gone home like she promised. 

(Y/N) had to step carefully over the cobblestones, not trusting the grip of her boots over the cracks. She wished she could sprint though the barrage, but she would no doubt lose her footing and smash her face into the rocky ground if she did. 

Instead, she kept her head down and tried to navigate back home through the rain, lacking sight. She kept her pace as steady as possible, giving all her focus to the task of making it home, though she was vaguely aware of a familiar panic growing in her chest. 

As much as she had wanted to be alone, take time by herself and live in the village without her father's word being law, she still saw the gruesome body every time she closed her eyes. (Y/N) had nightmares of that moment she had come across the young woman, though this time she blinked her eyes open when (Y/N) grew close enough before snatching at her foot. A shaky breath expanded (Y/N)'s lungs at the childish fear that something could even be following behind her at the moment. She would have no idea if there was; every sound was drowned out by the pouring rain, her sight impaired by the water running over her eyes and the heavy sheets acting like a fog over the village. 

Unable to resist the urge, (Y/N) whipped her head around, trying to catch the monster in the act of following her. Unsurprisingly, no one was there. 

She was alone, just as she had wished. 

Spinning around, the village was completely vacant. No one knew she was out here. No one would even know if she had been snatched like that young woman. Not until she was found again.

That flare of panic in her chest rose again, clogging her throat and thickening her head. 

She needed to get out of here. Being alone wasn't worth this. She should have just taken up Margret and John on their offer and gone straight to her room. She could have found her alone time on another day. 

Picking the first direction in front of her, (Y/N) stormed through. This had to take her home, right? She had lived in this flat almost all of her life, she wouldn't forget where it was. 

Until, of course, (Y/N) noticed she had taken the complete wrong direction, heading towards the opposite end of the village. A strike of lightning lit up the grey sky, showing off the vague shadow of the towering castle in the distance. 

The Count's home. She had to turn around; she was no where close to the apothecary. 

This time, when (Y/N) spun around, trying to find a direction to head through her woolen throat and mounting panic, she couldn't decide. What if she went the wrong way again? What if she ended up back in the town center? 

What if she died out here? 

The morbid turn of her thoughts took her breath away. 

She was stunned in place, unable to make any move in any direction. 

Suddenly, a hand settled on her shoulder, stilling her shaking form. 

"(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?" 

(Y/N) stumbled, turning around to face to familiar voice speaking right behind her. 

There, backlit by another round of lightning and thunder, was Harry. 

His hair was almost black under the rain, near soaked despite having barely been out in the elements for longer than a few moments. His velvet jacket grew darker with every drop absorbed into the thick fabric. He pale skin was a beacon in the gloom. 

"H-Harry?" 

"You can't stay out here, (Y/N). You're going to fall ill, or worse," he told her, concern dripping from his tone the same way the rain clumped through the length of her lashes. 

When she gave her body permission to do so, she wasn't sure, but in a heartbeat she was clinging to his form. He was her safety in the middle of his storm, keeping her from falling victim to the most morbid of her thoughts. It was beyond improper, but she didn't care as she dug her fingers into his waistcoat. He couldn't leave her here.

"I-I was trying to go home," she whined, her voice fragile under the weight of everything. "I think I'm l-lost." 

She felt pathetic to utter something so silly given she knew this town like the back of her hand, but it was a truth. 

Harry lingered in front of her for a moment, seemingly assessing her before he sprung into action. 

"That's alright," he murmured, speaking as if she were an injured animal, "Let me take you home. I think I remember the way. Is that okay? I have my carriage over there." 

He pointed behind himself, where another slice of lightning revealed a black, boxy carriage led by regal white horses. She could see the vague form of someone sitting in the coach box. 

When she didn't immediately answer, he wrapped a tentative arm around her form. "Let me get you home, (Y/N)." 

She gave an absent nod, willing to let him take her anywhere—anything was better than this, she decided. He bundled her against him as he took her to the side of the carriage, sacrificing an arm holding her middle to open the door. He helped heave her inside, getting her in as quickly as possible.

"Thank you," she peeped when she settled on the bench seat. She kept her eyes on him as he waited a moment, relaying to the driver the new destination.

Her body shook with unstoppable tremors as Harry climbed in after her, her soaked clothing ruining the red velvet under her. She would have to apologize to him later.

It was here, in the dry of his carriage, that (Y/N) realized she was sobbing with rivers of hot tears pouring down her cheeks. It wasn't just the chill of the rain that had her feeling as if she couldn't breathe, she realized. In the safety of the cover, wracking sobs kept her from properly filling her lungs, her inhales way too short to be safe. 

The carriage spun around her despite the way (Y/N) tried to focus on her hands on her lap. This wasn't good, she knew. 

"(Y/N)," she heard, the voice firm and commanding, "Look at me, darling." 

Absently, she pulled her head up to face Harry. 

He was inches away from her. (Y/N) could make out the the shattered shards of green around his black pupils. The strong line of his nose and pillow lips were right there. 

Harry was dazzling. Breathtaking. 

Unfortunately, breathtaking was the last thing she needed right then. 

Before she knew any better, (Y/N)'s lashes fluttered as her eyes fell closed on their own accord, her breathing stunted in her lungs. The last thing she was aware of was Harry's panicked call of her name before she spilled over the velvet seat as she lost consciousness. 

—————

When (Y/N) finally cracked her eyes open, her limbs felt impossibly heavy as if she had rocks tied to each end as she sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Her bleary sight took it's time clearing, allowing heartbeats to pass before the blurry streaks around her came into focus. 

She was in an immaculate bedroom, she realized. Her body was cushioned by luxurious velvet, dyed a deep crimson. The mattress underneath was plush and inviting, urging her to sink deeper and deeper into the dreamy bedding and warmth it offered. A length of fur ran across the end of the bed, tickling her bare ankles as she stretched. 

Sitting up where she had been nestled atop the bed, more and more of her head came to her. The bed was even more opulent that she thought. Four posters shot up from around the frame, holding curtains made of delicate black lace. Her hands ached just looking at it, thinking about how long it would take to make something so beautiful, even with the help of one of those sewing machines. More furs and velvet decorated the large space; everything honing in on the darker spectrum of colors. Here and there, pops of gold thread appeared like minute rays of sunlight. At the bedside was a bouquet of cut flowers, all in rich violet hues and smelling sweet enough to draw her in like a butterfly. And she almost did, sticking her nose into the tall stalk of trumpet shaped flowers until she realized what kind they were and jerked back. 

Foxglove, she recognized them to be. Poisonous. 

Around the stalk were wisteria blooms and plumes of baby's breath. The wisteria was another set of flowers that were gorgeous to look at, but deadly in the end. 

Pulling away with a stiff back, she set her bare feet on the ground. Now that she was free from the flowers, the woody scent of winter savory and spike of tobacco in the background were the prominent aromas taking her attention. Looking around her, her cloak was dry, laid on the end of her borrowed bed alone with her boots set up in a neat row by her feet. 

This place was extravagant. A fairytale daydream, perfect for her head-in-the-clouds mindset. 

This had to be a castle. No random hut could have something this indulgent.

There was only one castle she knew of. 

Memories came back to (Y/N) in pieces. 

The storm. She had left the Wayfields' home, telling them she would head straight home despite knowing she was lying. She had wanted some time alone, away from her father's overprotective gaze. But the storm was too much. She had pathetically lost her way and panicked, remembering the woman she had found in the woods. 

Then, there was the gleaming black carriage. The ghostly pale face of the Count who offered to take her home, get her out of the rain and into safety before he would be on his way. She remembered him helping her into the carriage, telling the coachman that they needed to drop her back at the apothecary. Her emotions had fluctuated to opposite ends of the spectrum: extreme panic under the sheets of rain to the deep relief she felt at seeing a familiar face who could help her. 

The last few things she could remember was the guilt she felt at ruining the luxe seating in the Count's carriage before looking up to see him facing her directly with his breathtaking features. That was all that had been left before she tumbled back and lost consciousness. 

This was no doubt the Count's home. There had been times she had wondered what kind of interior a building as magnificent as this one would have, but she had never thought of something this indulgent. 

Though, despite her admirations, she couldn't stay here. 

She was never supposed to take even the long walk home, let alone travel all the way to the gargantuan home that the most notorious member of the village resided in. (Naming him as a member of their village was a stretch, but the easiest way for (Y/N) to think at the moment). There was no telling how long she had been out, but her father was going to kill her even if it was ten seconds. 

Despite the ache in her bones and the stiff fabric of her ill dried dress, she forced her boots back on, the laces pulled into clumsy bows. Her cloak was grabbed in a haste before she started towards the door. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she needed to get back home as soon as she could.

Swinging open the heavy door, (Y/N) swayed on her feet, stopping in her tracks when she saw who was on the other side. 

Propped against the opposing wall, between more cut flowers and immaculate paintings, was the Count himself. 

He was at attention within a second, but (Y/N) had caught the way he had been slumped against the wall, his shoulders a sullen slope. In an instant, he had crossed the grand hall to meet her at her door, his hands reaching out towards her. His eyes looked darker than ever, only light shatters of deep green apparent in his iris. His usually flawless hair was left in disarray. Somewhere, he had shed his coat and cravat, leaving the billowed sleeves of his shirt and grey waistcoat the only articles on his torso. Even the neckline of his white shirt had been left loose, a stretch of creamy skin on display. 

"Are you okay?" he breathed out, his gaze immediately tripping down her form before she had a chance to answer, "I-I tried to make sure you hadn't injured your head, or-or worse when you fell faint, but I couldn't be positive." 

Her lashes fluttered in a blink as she startled over his concern. She had never seen him so discomposed, his demeanor world's away from calm. 

"I-I'm alright," she breathed, finding her tongue in her dry mouth, "You brought me to your home?" She could vaguely remember him ordering the coachman to take her home, back to the flat above the apothecary. 

He wet his lips, his eyes searching through hers as he collected his words. "When you fell faint," he started, "I was not sure if you would have been alone if I took you home. I was worried; I decided to take you back here, so I could keep an eye on you. That's all, I swear it." 

She was sure he knew just as well as she that being alone like this—unchaperoned, neither of them dressed as they typically should be, no one aware of her whereabouts—was more inappropriate than a single moonlight stroll through town. This could ruin both of them if anyone found out; (Y/N) would be deemed unbecoming for marriage, and the small amount of reputation Harry had would be buried six feet under. 

Throughout all, (Y/N) still found her skin warming, seeing how genuinely he spoke of her and his worry of her well-being. Other than her cloak and boots, she could tell none of her clothing had been tampered with. He had done nothing more than keep an eye on her. 

"Thank you," she swallowed, nodding her head as she allowed a small smile to curl her lips. She felt a bit desperate then, hoping he knew how deep her gratitude went. "Truly, thank you. I-I don't know what happened to me, it was scary." 

"I'm sure it was," he murmured, the tight set to his features loosening the longer she stood in one piece before him. "I am glad I found you when I did." 

"How long has it been?" she asked, noticing not a single window that could give away the time of day. She wasn't even sure if it was still night time.

He deflated some at her words. "A few hours, I think" he shared, dropping his gaze as if realizing just now how long he had been her self-appointed guardian, "The storm finally ended not too long ago. You were exhausted, (Y/N)." 

She had never heard her name wrapped in his voice before. Looking at him now, she was back in that carriage with her lungs stunted and mind only on him. She swore she could see his eyes lightening before her gaze, more and more green coming to the surface like a murky pond under sunlight. The panicked urge she had to race home slowly melted out of her. 

"I'm not surprised," she agreed, finally breaking her gaze from his for no other reason than to allow her breath to come back. She cast her eyes around the opulent space, taking in the priceless art around her, the glossy flooring and detailed decor. "This is your home?" 

"For as long as I can remember," he smiled, pride straightening his shoulders as he followed her line of sight, "It's my sanctuary. If you'd like, I can have the kitchen make something for you and I can give you a tour of the grounds in the meantime." 

Instantly, she wanted to accept. She wanted to see what kind of creations a place like this could make in the kitchen. She wanted to know where he had found such gorgeous, but deadly plantlife. She wanted to know if any of her daydreams had been right about this place. 

Unfortunately, there was that niggling worry that popped back up in the back of her mind. 

"As much as I would love to, I can't," she reluctantly let out, "I have to go home. My father... he's probably rallying the village as we speak, trying to find me before he loses his mind." 

Harry's expression fell, losing that pride over her praise. Nonetheless, he gave her a relenting nod. "I understand," he said, cracking a small smile, "I have had you hidden away for long enough, I suppose. I'll have my staff ready my carriage, and I'll have you home by dawn."

"Thank you," she said earnestly once more, "Really, Harry. I fear where I would be if you hadn't come across me." 

"I do as well," he shared, his voice low as if sharing a secret with her. 

This time, (Y/N) didn't wipe the smile from her lips as she looked up at him. Another shade of green seemingly appeared in his gaze. 

—————

"You're not coming with me?" (Y/N) asked, poking her head out of the door of the coach when Harry didn't immediately follow after her. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to crest the horizon, giving away just how long she had been far from home, though that didn't stop her from stalling. 

"Unfortunately," he said, keeping his feet planted on the ground outside the carriage. He looked up at her from where he stood, holding the door open as he spoke to her. "I have business to attend to very soon; I wouldn't have time to arrange everything if I escorted you this morning. I hope you'll accept my apologies, anyway." 

Though she was disappointed she would lose out on time with him, she couldn't blame him. He must be a busy man if he had this place to call home and a full staff to take care of it. He didn't have time to chauffeur her around the village, even if that was what she wanted. He didn't even have a chance to tell her where he had found the flowers for his bouquets. 

"I suppose I'll forgive you this time," she said, a sly smile on her lips that had Harry's own lips blooming, "But next time, I won't be so lenient." 

"I appreciate your grace, my lady," he played along, offering her that dazzling smile and dimpled cheeks. "I promise to see you soon. I feel like I'll need to visit the apothecary sooner rather than later." 

(Y/N) could take that promise. "I will make sure we stay stocked, then." 

"Until next time," Harry said, inching away from the carriage with reluctant steps deeper into the shadows.

"Until next time." 

With that, Harry closed the door to the coach, relaying the destination to the driver. 

With her hands in her lap and heart bubbling in her chest, (Y/N) allowed her cheeks to split with her smile. Definitely better than any kind of daydream her cloudy head had come up with.

—————

As soon as she approached the church, (Y/N) was grateful for the instructions she had given to the coachmen to drop her at the edge of the village, leaving her to be the only one who had seen the carriage at all. As she had suspected, her father really had rallied every able body in the town. She could only imagine she had caught them right before they started combing the woods and terrorizing the neighboring villages until they found her. 

It was Margret who had seen her first, breaking down into tears with a bursting sob before she was running towards (Y/N).

"Where have you been?!" she screamed, collapsing around (Y/N) in a steely hug, "I—We—Everyone thought you were—" 

Margret didn't have to finish her words for (Y/N) to know what had been on the village's mind. 

Before she had a chance to do anything more than reciprocate the hug and draw a breath, her father was barreling over. "(Y/N)!" he shouted, a mix of relief and anger tinting his tone. She doubted he even knew how to feel in that moment. 

"I'm sorry, Margret," (Y/N) muttered, offering a consoling smile before pulling away from her hug. The Wayfields stepped forward to collect their daughter while (Y/N) went towards her father, already dreading the lecture she would receive. "Father, I—" 

The air was stolen from her lungs the second he scooped her into a tight hug. "My daughter," he murmured into her hair, nestling her against his chest, "I thought the worst." 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, aware of the eyes watching their embrace. 

"What happened?" he asked, pulling away to face her with watery eyes and warm cheeks, "Why didn't you stay with Margret and her family? They said you went through the storm alone, promising to come back home." 

(Y/N) felt immense floods of guilt bubble through her system. This wasn't the welcome home she had thought she'd garner. 

"I hadn't meant to frighten anyone," she started, hoping the rest of the village overheard, "I only wanted a minute alone, but I was planning on coming home right away. But, the storm was so heavy, and I scared myself. I was disoriented and ended up a village over. I stayed in their church for the night, until it was safe to come home." 

The lie slipped off her tongue like water, the story planned from her time in the carriage. Her guilt only worsened knowing she was deceiving her father, but she didn't want anyone to know where she had spent the night. Despite the impropriety of the whole thing situation Harry, she didn't want Mary and Ethel chattering to her father that the Count was trying to steal away his daughter and flay her before dropping her in the forest. 

She didn't want Harry to be dragged into this. 

His features tightened at her words, but she could see as he ultimately accepted them. "Okay," he relented before flexing his arms around her in a pulsing hug, "Never again, (Y/N). Do you hear me?" 

"I hear you," she promised, holding him back just as tightly. 

Over his shoulder, she could see the gleaming of a black carriage ascending the trail towards the large castle in the distance.

—————

oleander, if consumed, can slow the heart and cause death within hours.

ahhhhhh! super super super different for myself ngl! I changed a couple of ideas I had just bc I started scaring myself but thank you so much for reading! im so happy im finally putting out a halloween fic! so sorry for any mistakes and if theres any ideas or thoughts please send them in!

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry au #harry imagine #vampire harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #vampire harry styles #harry styles x reader #love on tour #pleasing #as it was #harrys house #harryween

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine zoro being at your side

a/n: reading has a condition that causes her to fall asleep

The dining table was filled with plates and half empty cups of alcohol. Everyone was talking away, laughing, and arguing as Sanji continued to serve various dishes. Zoro leaned back into his seat, chugging down his…fifth? Sixth? Well, another beer. The food was delicious not that he would compliment the cook – he wasn’t that drunk. He listened as Franky told a story about his childhood and he laughed at the funny parts, but throughout the conversation his eyes moved to where you sat. You were next to him, elbow on the table as you forked around the food on your plate. Taking little bites as you laughed at Franky’s youthful tales. The smile on your face brought warmth from the tip of his toes to his cheeks and Zoro tried to hide it but it was plain as the day, that he was completely…

Zoro lost his train of thought as your eyes glazed over – a tell tale sign that you were about to pass out. It was a condition you had, from what Chopper had explained. It had something to do with low blood pressure and, well, Zoro really didn’t understand. All he knew was that when that look came across your face, he had seconds to get to you before you passed out. Everyone took to call you the Sleeping Princess, the moniker even made its way onto your wanted poster – along with a photo of you sleeping mid battle during the Wano fight against Kaido. It was your pride and joy when you saw the poster and had it framed next to your bed.  

He remembered the first time it happened in front of him; you were sitting on the railing of the Merry with Luffy, feet dangling over the water – fishing and chitchatting away. Zoro had known about your condition but never seen it in person. He had joined Luffy and you, talking and fishing, as he stood at your side. Luffy was going on and on about catching fish for dinner, and Zoro was chastising the captain warning him to not fall into the ocean. He was busy watching Luffy that he hadn’t noticed you drifting backwards or the way your arms slumped. It was Luffy who shouted for him to help you that drew his eyes to you; immediately he moved behind you, allowing you to fall into his arms. He slowly lifted you up against his chest, attempts were made to shake you awake but Luffy said not to bother.

“Right, her condition…” His eyes took in the softness of your face, and he felt heat rise to his cheeks. You seemed to be sound asleep, and he started toward the women’s dorm, kicking the door gently open. The room was empty, and he realized he didn’t know which bed was yours; but then he noticed how all three beds were pushed together and figured either side was fine. He moved to the right side of the bed and laid you down, covering you with a thin blanket that sat on the edge of the bed. Zoro gazed down at you and felt something he hadn’t in a long time….an earnestness in his heart.

Now, he often was at your side as much as he could and as much as whatever situation the crew allowed but he had trust in his friends. Everyone knew the signs and there was always someone there to help you – especially during fights. While Chopper had worked hard to find a cure, it seemed your ailment was just something you were born with, and nothing was to be done. That was fine because you never allowed it to stop you. That’s what Zoro found the most attractive about you – the strength of your will. He loved you for it. Loved you like no one else.

“You’re fine,” he whispered, hand moving around your shoulder as your head slumped against his chest. He scooted your chair closer to his, arm protectively resting across your chest. He sighed as Luffy noticed and asked if he could have your plate; Nami swiftly smacked him on the head and Zoro asked Sanji if he could wrap up your plate. “She’ll be hungry when she wakes.”

The cook agreed, giving the captain a death stare as he removed the plate from the table. Zoro held you close to his body, hardly listening to the conversation around the table and when you stirred against him twenty minutes later, his fingers brushed away strands of hair from your face. Eyes blinking, the swordsman’s handsome face came into focus, and you sighed contently. “Hey…”

Zoro chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on top of your head. “The Sleeping Princess is awake – had a good nap?”

Sitting up, you yawned and kissed him gingerly on the cheek. “It’s always a good nap when I wake up in your arms.”

The man blushed so hard, the entire table exploded in laughter and teasing – much to his dismay. He shouted for everyone to shut the hell up but then the teasing grew louder, and all Zoro could do was hold your hand as Sanji retrieved your food, admiring the way you effortlessly returned to the conversation as if nothing had happened. And when you looked over to him with a kind, grateful smile, he felt his dedication to you grow stronger.

...............................

tags:

@posessedbytheinternet @smolracoon25

@notthemainblog @xentaipriest

@xitara666 @rouzuchan

@southside-otaku @dimplewonie

@stuckinthewrongworld @yourmomsgirl

@zoroshispanicwife @reneeprika

@themossiestchick @cyberneticsmoker

@starrlovet @simpx4xanimexmen

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #one piece spoilers

[olsenmyolsen]

Cabin Trip

(this gif is Wanda totally looking at Vampire Readers' fangs)

sequel to Vampire Things

master list

dark master list

Marvel AU (Vampire Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: Wanda and you take a trip to a lake house, but what happens when you get an unexpected four-legged guest?

Word Count: 4.3K

Content: Blood, Hydra Mentions

"Babe... do you wanna wake up?"

You smiled at the soft tenderness coming from Wanda's lips. You heard her chuckle as you shook your head and covered yourself in the blanket.

"Come on, Detka..."

She tried again while pulling the blanket down. Or trying to. Your grip on it was much stronger than Wanda's, and she always failed to remember that in training, you never use your full strength. Your enhanced ability was unfair sometimes.

But right now, to catch some extra sleep, you'd show your fangs if you had to.

To anyone else...

To Wanda, it would only turn her on.

"Hey!" Wanda exclaimed as she let go of the blanket, causing you to grin. "It would not!"

"It so would!" You replied with your morning voice before you cleared your throat and rose from the bed. "Don't lie, sweetheart. You love my fangs. Everyone knows it." You leaned forward with sleep in your eyes and lips puckered, waiting for a kiss.

Wanda gladly kissed you before pulling back. "What do you mean everyone knows?" You rubbed your eyes and pretended not to hear your girlfriend. "What time is it?"

"Y/N, what do you mean everyone knows?"

You leaned back to your end table and lifted up your phone. 7:34 am. "Wanda!" You whined, ignoring her again. "We've been dating for over a year. I thought we agreed on no wake-ups before 8!" You dropped your phone as you flopped back onto the bed. Getting comfortable.

"Y/N what-"

"You scratch and crane your neck."

Wanda looks at your laying positioned, confused. You don't have to even look at Wanda to know that's she's pursing her lip in thought, trying to come up with a lie or a reason that disproves what everyone already knows.

"Trust me, babe." You lean up onto your elbows in your grey Avengers t-shirt and smile at Wanda. "It's cute, but when you do it every time my fangs are out and... people start to notice."

Your mind briefly reminds you of the time Sam cornered you and asked you how many times you used that move on the ladies.

When you didn't know what he was talking about, he then asked if you were using some Vampire magic to make Wanda react the way she was, but once again, you looked at him with confusion, forcing him to sigh and give up.

"They do?" She questioned in a hushed tone. "They do." You replied with some amount of care, not knowing whether Wanda was hurt or not.

She wasn't.

"Well, I can't help it if my girlfriend is a smoking hot vampire!" She looks at you with big eyes and a big smile. Leaning closer and closer. Wanda knows what she's doing. "You just want me to get up, don't you?"

"Is it working?"

It was.

You sighed and leaned up all the way to kiss Wanda before planting another one and another as your lips moved further down. "This isn't why I woke you up." Wanda struggled to say. "But it's more fun. Isn't it?" You replied, cocky as ever as you drugged your left fang down her soft neck.

However, Wanda was determined. She allowed one more kiss before moving away with blushed cheeks and a smile; she got up and went to her vanity mirror. Double checking her hair and neck... no markings this time.

But you figured that would change, especially since you saw Wanda in her complete outfit.

A red sundress with a floral print pattern and white vans that you knew she was wearing because you gifted them to her.

But deep down, you knew she'd change into her birks or boots soon enough.

You got up off the bed and made your way to stand behind Wanda as she looked up at you in the mirror. "Something on your mind, or shall I read it?" You raised an eyebrow at Wanda's words.

"You know I'm not so shy anymore, Wans. Maybe I want you to read it. See what we could be doing."

Wanda bit her bottom lip before shaking her head as she looked away. She lost the battle but remained strong. She turned around and looked up at you. "We could do that now or save for later at the cabin."

Your smile quickly went away as your face grew confused. "Cabin?" Wanda nodded her head. "Cabin." She repeated. "For us?" She nodded again. "I figured it would be fun. We don't have a mission until next week."

Wanda got up from her chair before standing up onto it. Now, you looked up at her as she looked down at you with a smile. Her green eyes shining bright. "It'll be fun." You wrapped your arms around her lower back. Being very mindful of where your hands were at.

"It's near a lake. Which I know you don't like to swim, but maybe I could convince you." You tilted your head as you smiled, looking at Wanda. "Oh yeah?" She nodded. "The cabin has a hot tub..." She leaned down as you lifted your chin above her breast. "We'll be alone, and who knows.. what.. could.. happen." Wanda lightly bit your neck as her breath touched your ear.

You could feel your own heartbeat pump faster as Wanda moved her head and planted her pink lips on your own. "When do we leave?" You whispered into the small amount of room separating the two of you. "Get dressed and packed, and we'll be gone, baby."

You kissed Wanda and gave her butt a little tap before getting packed in record time.

Of course, by the time Wanda double-checked everything you packed, you were ready to go.

_

"You never had s'mores?"

You shook your head as Wanda grabbed a bag of marshmallows. She gave you a look and moved her hand up and down your back as she placed the fluffy treats into the cart.

It was times like these when Wanda was reminded about how much Hydra took from you. From Wanda as well, but whereas Wanda was immediately given a culture shock after joining the Avengers, you were more slow in your progress.

So when Wanda casually mentioned the first time Pietro tried to make s'mores with Steve and Sam but ended up burning the roof of his mouth, you had no idea what she meant.

It did make you sad. You weren't going to lie. Not experiencing something as simple as a s'more until your girlfriend made damn sure of it was a little embarrassing. But you knew that deep down it was alright.

Plus, the soft touch of Wanda's hand gliding itself up and down your shirt was a level of comfort no one else would ever experience.

"What else do we need?" You stopped the cart off the side and looked at the list in Wanda's hand.

According to the GPS in Wanda's car, you two were twenty minutes away from the cabin as you passed through a small town. Wanda figured the cabin she was renting wouldn't be stocked with anything, so here you two were. In a market, shopping for things like s'mores and whatever else Wanda wanted to make.

It was very domestic. Something you and Wanda never thought you would have. But now that it was here. You both couldn't imagine life without the other.

Wanda looked up at you and smiled. "I love you."

Your eyes went from the list to Wanda's green eyes. "I love you too." Your smile grew wide as you quickly gave Wanda a peck.

"Chicken." Wanda then said. Huh? "Chicken?" Wanda nodded and took the lead as she started moving the cart. "I just remembered the cabin has a grill. We can make Chicken- oh shoot, we need spices too!" Wanda then turned the corner, leaving you standing in the aisle.

Yep. You couldn't imagine your life without her.

_

"It's beautiful, Wanda!"

You and Wanda set the last of the grocery bags onto the kitchen counter. The place fitted the vibe of you, Wanda, perfectly. It was a two-story modern wood cabin. It had a fireplace in the sunken in living room. The place had four rooms. Making you question why Wanda would pick such a spacious place, but when you really took a look at the kitchen, you understood. Stainless steel appliances. A long kitchen island. It had a bar set up and a drink cart along a wall. It had one of those fridges where you could look inside without opening the door. As well as a bunch of other stuff you never understood.

But watching Wanda get excited as she unloaded the groceries made you smile.

You made your way to the sliding glass back door and looked out to see the fire pit and grill Wanda was talking about. You tuned your head and saw the hot tub as well. All of it was surrounded by foliage and designed beautifully with stone in the landscape. The backyard then backed up to a wooded area with a walkway down to the lake that you could see from the upstairs bedroom.

"Thank you for this." You wrapped your arms around the front of Wanda as she stopped organizing the spices. "I figured we both needed it." You nodded and kissed the side of her face. "Have I ever told you that you're the smartest Avenger?" Wanda shook her head and smiled. "Don't have to tell me something I already know." That made the two of you laugh before she turned her head and kissed you. "Let me finish here, and then we can take a walk to the lake. How does that sound?"

"Perfect."

_

"I can't believe how cold the water is!"

You look at Wanda in her dress, carrying her Birkenstocks with her feet covered in sand.

"No one told you to put your feet in Wans." You said with a smile, knowing you'd get a reaction. "I tripped, and you know that!" You raised your eyebrows and made a face. "So the smartest Avenger is the clumsiest?" Wanda playfully glares at you. "I could use my powers and have you above the lake in two seconds."

You nod. "Yeah, but what good is-"

You stop dead in your tracks and turned back to Wanda. "Did you hear that?" Wanda looks at you and then around the wooded area. "Hear what?" She thinks you're joking, but her smile fades when she sees your face.

You turn your body as you hear the noise again.

"Babe?" Wanda asks, but you ignore her as you tune your ears to locate where the crying is coming from. "It's this way." You point your finger in a direction off the trail. "Okay..." Wanda looks at you. "What is it?"

She starts putting her shoes back on while she thinks about how she should've grabbed her boots.

But who brings boots to the lake?

"I'm not sure what it is... but it's small and hurt." Wanda nods and puts on a determined look. "Let's go." She lets you lead the way as you step off the trail through the woods.

After a few minutes of searching, Wanda speaks up. "This would probably be easier if you could turn into a bat." You playfully roll your eyes. "That's your answer to your everything. You and Pietro's." You laugh, making your girlfriend laugh. "You know, technically, he's older than me."

You nodded. You knew.

Pietro always made a point to tell you.

Wanda was about to ask you how close you two were when you stopped.

Blood.

You smelt it in the air and closed your eyes. "It's not far." You said as you opened your eyes. Wanda grabbed your hand as you took a step forward. "Y/N." You looked back and stopped your movement. She looked from your eyes to your mouth.

The sharp intake of her breath and the crane of her neck was all you both needed to know. "Your fangs..." She whispered. "Blood?" You nodded, and Wanda nodded back before moving in front of you. Keeping her grip on your hand. "Tell me where to go."

Wanda knew that no matter how much blood there was, you'd smell it. That's not why she got in front of you. She got in front of you because she didn't want you to do something you'd regret if the blood loss was a gracious amount. She had trust in you a hundred percent, but taking chances wasn't something she wanted to do right now.

"Thanks." You said to Wanda, who reminded you that she loved you with three hand squeezes. "It's not far. Straight ahead."

You two didn't get much further when you heard the cries. They were soft and low. Like what was hurt was tired. "Oh my gosh!" Wanda let go of your hand and ran towards the scene. A small white-haired Jack Russell terrier was lying on its side as its leg was stuck in a trap. It looked like a bear trap, but it was too small, confusing you. Your eyes immediately found the blood that turned the white hair on the poor dog red.

Wanda bent down in front of the dog that yelped in surprise before wagging its tail. "It's okay. We're here to help." Wanda pouted and wore a sad face as she looked over the dog. You moved closer and bent down behind the dog near its injured leg.

"There's no collar."

You looked up at Wanda as she gently touched the dog's fur near its neck. "He's dirty, too." You nodded. "Looks like a stray." Wanda nodded and felt sorry for the dog as it cried again. "I'll hold him. You get the trap."

You listened to your girlfriend and lowered your hands down to the end of the trap. "

The lever to release the springs is gone..?"

"I can use my powers," Wanda suggested, but you shook your head and, without wasting another second, wrapped your fingers around the jaws of the trapped and pulled them down hard. Causing the trap to break in two as if it were plastic.

The dog, free from the trap, tried to jump up to run but fell as its back leg pained it too much. It cried as Wanda didn't let go of the dog. "I'm sorry." She said as she pulled it by its neck closer to her. "You're hurt. We can't let you go." She hushed the dog and made an aww noise. You smiled at the sight of your beautiful girlfriend with the dog as you smashed up the rest of the stupid trap to take with you to dispose of.

"We should go." You smiled at Wanda as she refused to let go of the dog. The two of you and your new friend found your way back to the trail and to the house without another incident.

_

"You're bleeding!"

Wanda sounded shocked as you returned with a beach towel. "Huh?" You looked down where Wanda was looking and found a trail of blood on your right hand, past your pinkie. You didn't remember being cut or anything on your walk back... You lifted your hand up to your nose.

"It's not mine." You said as you handed Wanda the towel. "Aww, is it this poor guys?" Wanda made an adorable face as she calmly wrapped the towel around the dog's leg.

"Any luck finding medical supplies?" Wanda asked where her attention finally came back to you.

You shook your head. "They have some things but nothing for dogs. Is there much of a difference, though?" You asked. "I mean, I'm a vampire, and I take human drugs and use sanitizing wipes."

Wanda tilted her head, not as amused as you had hoped.

"I can go to the store." You quickly corrected. Wanda nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Detka." You walked past your girlfriend and went to the kitchen island to grab her car keys. You sigh. Still flummoxed. "What kind of Veterinary Clinic is closed on Saturdays? It makes no sense."

Wanda shrugged. "I agree, but all we can do is the best we can right now. We're just lucky I ran my hand over his stomach to know that he's not chipped." You nodded, knowing she was right.

"Well, the supplies that they do have are sitting on the counter in our giant primary bathroom. You can try bathing him, and by that point, I should be back with some bandages." Wanda nodded and agreed. "Okay, I'll do that." She then looked at the dog in her arms. "Do you want a bath?" The dogs' ears perked up and looked from Wanda to you.

"I don't think he likes the B word." You said.

"Bath?" Wanda asked, completely serious, making you laugh when the dog pleaded at you to not let this happen. "Yes, Wanda. B-A-T-H." 

That's when Wanda understood and made an ah noise.

"Okay, noted. Won't use that word." You laughed and leaned into the witch and gave her a kiss before looking at the white dog. "Be good. I'll be back."

_

Your trip to town was uneventful compared to what Wanda must've gone through when you were gone.

As you pulled up to the rental cabin, everything was normal, but once you opened the front door, you saw how much had happened.

"Babe?" You carefully called out as you walked past a trail of slightly wet paw prints coming from the upstairs hall. You lightly moved the bag of dog food around on your shoulder as your grip on the local pet store bag in your hand tightened. "Wanda?"

You knew she was here. You could smell her.

"Detka!" You used her pet name for you in hopes that she would appear, but still nothing. As you stepped into the kitchen and placed the dog supplies on the island, you looked at the living room and saw a pillow torn up with feathers everywhere. Your eyes then landed on the floor, and you saw broken glass as well as a pair of Wanda's underwear—her maroon-colored panties. A pair you loved to see on her now sat chewed up on the floor.

You had to laugh.

Usually, that would only happen because of you.

"Babe?" You called out through a chuckle. That's when your ears heard Wanda. You followed the noise, and your feet moved you to where you needed to be.

Out the back door, you saw Wanda, now dressed in sweats, chasing the dog around the fire pit with what appeared to be a small box in its mouth.

You're not sure how long Wanda and the dog had been at this, but you guessed it must've been far too long because you watched as the dog stopped its movement as a hue of red surrounded the dog.

The box in its mouth disappeared. You're unsure where it went, but it must've been important.

Your eyes remained on the dog as it was raised into the air by Wanda. She gave the dog a stern talking too that you were very familiar with before she grabbed it and started walking towards the house.

When Wanda entered, you acted as if you had just come back home. Placing the bag of dog food on the counter. "Hey, where were you? I called, and no one answered." You asked with an innocent smile. One Wanda didn't see past as she was busy holding the white-haired troublemaker.

"Outside. Chasing this one." She held the dog by its stomach out to you. You noticed its injured leg looked better, especially after the bath, but still needed to be wrapped. "I learned that dogs get hyper after a bath."

"Oh?" You question as you now held the dog while Wanda fetched the bandages. "Yep. The bat- the B-A-T-H was fine! Great even. He sat in the tub and was very nice. Shocking considering some stories I saw online." You nodded as Wanda started recounting her time in your absence.

"He was dried as best as he could be sitting on the bedroom floor, and I grabbed some clothes to change into." She gestures to her grey sweat suit that she loves so much. "And I guess I left the suitcase open because when I came out of the bathroom. He had two things in his mouth." She finishes wrapping his leg and gives the dog some pets before looking for a broom to sweep up the broken glass on the floor as you follow—dog in arms.

"One. My underwear!" She bends down and holds the pair in front of you with a flat, sad smile. "And two yo- my ring box! Box of my rings! From years ago." She stumbles over her words, not facing you in the slightest.

Wanda was probably so stressed, you think.

Wanda does her best to hide her panicked face. Choosing to sweep the floor and keep her head low as she moves on with the story.

"Anyways. I go to grab them from him, and he just takes off running. From down the stairs, he turns down this hallway. I trip over my feet, trying to chase him. I hit this frame, and it comes falling to the floor. I scare the panties out of his mouth. But he apparently liked that pillow a little too much because by the time I looked up from the broken glass, feathers were in the air. And he's gone out the back door!!" Wanda waves her hands in the air, sending feathers flying out of her dustpan.

"I'm sorry, love." You do your best to hide your smile, but Wanda sees it. "It's not funny!" A feather lands on her nose as she pouts. "I'm serious!" Wanda makes her face frown even more, and you almost fall for it until you see her crack. She smiles at you, and you two laugh. "And then what happened?" You ask, knowing damn well what happened.

"I chased him around the fit pit until I remembered about my damn powers!" Wanda emphasizes her point by using her powers to clean up the rest of the mess left by the dog in your arms. "And what about the box of rings?"

"Huh?!" Wanda turns to you with a slight panic across her face as she puts the broom and dustpan away.

"The box of rings. You said Bolt had them?"

"Oh-h.. I- wait.. Bolt?" Wanda looks at you with her head tilted in confusion. "Bolt." You said as you held up the now sleepy dog in your arms. Wanda laughs. "That's definitely not his name."

"Why not?" You whine. "According to your story, you couldn't catch him. Kinda like he.. bolted.." You lifted your eyebrows as your joke doesn't exactly land. "No." Is all she says as she finds a bowl and starts dumping his fresh kibble into it.

"Fine. What do you suggest?" You ask, to which Wanda shakes her head. "How about dog." Wanda-"

"Y/N, we can't keep it!"

You sigh in defeat.

"I know." You moved the dog up closer to Wanda's face. "But isn't he so cute?"

Wanda did her best to look away, knowing that any more contact and interaction with this dog would make her harder. But when the unarmed four-legged creature sniffed Wanda's ear and made her laugh.

It was soon over.

"Y/N.." She looked past the dog and up to your big eyes.

Wanda never would've guessed that you wanted a dog, but your thoughts were loud in this moment. She didn't have to read them. She could sense the amount of guilt that you would feel if you two left the dog. How lonely it could be. In your mind, the dog sat in a cage where you sat before the Avengers showed up.

"Detka.." Wanda reached her hand up and started petting the neck of the dog. "Taking care of a living thing is a big responsibility.. dogs need food, exercise, training." Wanda looked at the puppy dog's eyes. "And belly rubs and cuddles! And kisses between his little ears!"

The battle was over.

Wanda leaned in and kissed the dog on his little forehead and smiled with joy. "Oh gosh, he is so cute!"

"Yes, he is." You agreed to a statement you would never make about a man.

"So, thoughts?" Wanda looked up and bit her lip with a smile. "Okay, fine, we can keep him." You laughed. "I meant thoughts about a name."

"Flash?"

"No."

"White Lighting."

"No!"

"Spot?"

"But he has no spots?"

"Yes, it's ironic."

"No."

"Quicksilver?"

"Y/N!"

"Okay, sorry."

After a few more minutes of back and forth as, the dog ate his kibble and drank his water, he shook, causing a droplet of water to land into an outlet near the floor. Quick as a flash, a bolt of light came out of the socket.

"How about Sparky?"

You looked at Wanda to see if she was joking, but when she tilted her head with a smile, you agreed. "Perfect." You called Sparky over, and he did his best to trot on over to the two of you as if he had known you forever.

"Have I ever told you that you're the smartest Avenger?"

"Once or twice."

"Well, let's make sure I do it more often." Wanda leaned in and kissed you on your lips, but moved away before the fangs came out.

"We can do something about that later," Wanda spoke to you in a hushed tone as she covered Sparky's ears. The less the dog knew, the better.

Which was quite funny when you thought about it.

Because a couple of months later, when Wanda took you on another surprise trip, you accidentally found the same box Sparky had in his mouth that day at the cabin.

You didn't open it.

However, Wanda did when she got down on one knee and asked for your hand in marriage at dinner that night.

The date is set.

Pietro is bummed, Sparky is your best man.

dividers by @/benkeibear

#wanda maximoff x vampire #vampire y/n #vampire reader #vampire #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x female reader #sparky #sparky the dog #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #bl0od #tw bl0od #dog gets hurt #fluff #vampire reader fluff #female vampire reader #wanda maximoff rents you a lake house #domestic wanda maximoff #domestic fluff

[suguru-getos]

Birthday Lovings | Bakugou x Todoroki x F!Reader |

A/N: This post is for my baby @bakugoushotwife for her birthday. <3 (Yes I posted early I wrote this on my work laptop). I love you and I hope you like being loved by these two dorks! No warnings as such, this is an extremely fluffy (almost Diabetes inducing fluffy excuse me :P) They just love you so much and want to make your birthday special. <3 I thought of creating a mood-board to make you familiar with the aesthetics we have going on here :DD

Shouto knew better than to be impatient, yet, he couldn't help but sigh looking at the clock. "Don't understand what's taking her so long." His childish dismissal evident and biting as the Blonde gremlin next to him scoffed. "Learn patience on your own before I shove it where the sun don't shine." Shouto bites back quite instantly, "All you know is how to sound useless, do better and be more creative dull head." After tolerating each other since high school; Bakugou and Shouto have grown used to each other. Each have their own unique traits to exhibit where they show you love. It was exactly 10 pm of the day before your birthday and Shouto Todoroki was getting annoyed. The veins of his forehead popping up and flaring, though his counterpart was seemingly chill. Sometimes the tables turn on these two, and you're the only one who knows them this intimately who can figure that out.

"She'll be here." Bakugou scoffed, clearly annoyed.

They have spent a lot of time decorating the house after all. Shouto wanted to see how much you'd like it. If… you'd like it. "Cute." Katsuki snickered under his breath, rolling his eyes. They had decorated the entrance with metallic balloons in grey and white, with strings and bells of the accentuating undertones. The whole house was decorated with roses and was a literal paradise. Musk and vanilla scented candles all over, waiting to be lit up and the cake as massive as your wedding cake. They wanted the 12 am of your birthday to mark the celebrations quick and clear.

Here you were, stuck at work and the two hero gremlins who's heart you own… restless and needy.

Shouto finally texted you:

Shouto [10:19pm]: Where are you? Snowflake [10:21pm]: I'm on my way, I'll be there soon!

Katsuki chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Told ya, we'll fuck her shitty boss up if he tries to make her stay late today."

Shouto nodded, a gentle and relaxed smile plastered over his features. This sounds, nice… you'd be here in no time then! How quaint.

They waited patiently, Shouto leaning his head against Katsuki's shoulders as they sat on the couch dressed up in a white button up with blazers scrolling through TikToks. "The worst thing is these edits made by fans." Katsuki scoffs, "Taking my words completely out of the context." Shouto laughs, "If  you want me to listen then get on your knees and beg? Who says that to a villain? You should know that would be surely taken out of the context." Bakugou rolls his eyes, scoffing and scrolling further. They were extremely popular heroes, each famous for their powers but also their behaviours. On one hand we had Dynamight - the symbol of strength, the symbol of bluntness and to stand true to your opinion. His fans admired him for his good looks, powers and of course his ability to be so direct and without any filters. The other hand we had Shouto - symbol of strength and gentlemanliness. Famous as the elegant hero who is refined and almost aristocratic and exudes charm like no other. Politely speaks and still can get menacing when needed. Girls dig that. Too bad both of them are literally married to you.

Their thoughts and conversations were cut off with the door knock. Both of them lurched up, looking at each other with a shit-eating grin. "Kay, she's here. Good s' almost 12" Katsuki beamed, walking towards the door and opening it for you.

You walked in, suddenly engulfed by the scent of his cologne, while Shouto lured around too as both of them say in unison. "Welcome home!" If you had a bad day, you couldn't really do anything but give into the harmonious and contagious happiness and excitement both of them showcased. You smiled, cheeks dusting red as the decorations reflected in the browns of your eyes. "Oh my god- this- this is a lot! You guys" You blushed, getting a tad embarrassed with how extensive and extra they've been. "Shut up shitty woman!" Katsuki laughed, carrying you over his shoulder before you could absorb the decorations done in your name. Your birthday which was about to commence… "We got just the perfect fit for you, Darling." Shouto echoed, walking beside Katsuki towards your shared bedroom. The red satin dress laid down on your king sized bedroom, with three Tiffany and Co. boxes which had matching jewellery, lingerie, perfume, and of course dainty heels that would complete the look.

You gasped, chuckling at how the diamond set laid there serpentine, they really planned a lot. No wonder you watched them on their phone's showing each other things secretively three weeks before your big day. "I chose most of the things" Bakugou lied through his teeth, and Shouto frowned. "Hey- that's absolutely not true!" Immediately cutting Katsuki off with a pouty glare. "We decided things together, we had to brainstorm a lot. The things I liked, he didn't. The things he liked, I didn't." Shouto stamped the truth on Katsuki's face and yours. Katsuki was only teasing after all, nodding with a softened grin to accept Shouto's truth. "I see, I see… thank you Daddies. You both have been so cute." You almost whine, heart swelling at their efforts and their little banter. Oh how did you get so lucky? "Go change." Katsuki playfully spanked the mound of your ass, though it's not as playful because it stings just right. You roll your eyes and change in front of them… no shame in rewarding with how much they've done for you. They both look at you the same way they did when they first saw you naked. Shouto has a little dusk on his cheek, Katsuki is a little wide-eyed. Their stares turn from awe to a potion of parched predators mingled with loving worshippers. It’s something words would fail to describe. Teeth-baringly unique to Bakugou Katsuki & Shouto Todoroki when they glance at your beautiful body. "I'll rip those off after." Katsuki pointed at the lingerie and called dibs on it in front of Shouto. "Shut up, now isn't the time for that." Shouto chided him, acting refined but his core burned when you slipped the dress on. "Alright little one, get ready and Shouto and I, would go prepare stuff up." "Okay, I won’t take long, I promise." You comfort, seeing it was 11:30 PM on the clock. Hearing that calms Shouto's nerves significantly. Little perfection freak amalgamated with the other Blonde Perfectionism Freak.

They go outside after you kiss them on the lips, letting them wander around your body that grounds them, that makes them realize what they want to protect so bad.

Once you finished getting ready, you walked outside to the lit aisle of roses, champagne bottle decorated along with the dinner food on one side of the table; the other having your birthday cake. "This is all so fucking cute!" You wiggled in place, giddy like a child. Shouto likes capturing moments, hence you were recorded coming out from your bedroom. Bakugou walked towards you, hands snaking to hold your wrist and the other around your waist to pull you close, gravely whispering, "Happy birthday." It was dot 12:00 AM. You almost teared up at the sincerity of his wish, while Shouto walked in too, kissing your forehead deeply. "Happy birthday, wife." "So happy to spend the rest of my life with you. You make me the luckiest man on this earth." Shouto chimes, kissing your cheek and chuckling when you evade eye-contact because their sincerity is making you tear up. There have been random discussions about how you haven't really spent a proper birthday. You didn't really rant about it or such, but your men are perceptive after all. "We've planned a fuckin' bash for ya!" Bakugou grins, "this one's just for the family. Just us… then tomorrow we'd party our asses off. Don't give a shit if we're blacked out by the end of it." Shouto rolls his eyes with a chuckle. "The last time you were drunk you were telling her to piss off cause you're wifed up." You snickered with Shouto at the pouty Katsuki. "You half and half bastard you were fucking calling me with your phone saying you lost your phone SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Oh they can be such messes when they're drunk. "Alright, but I get to choose who we invite!" You strike again and they nod diligently. Before you could speak further, both of them held each hand of yours, letting you stand near the cake & giving you a custom gold-plated knife, iced with diamonds. "Fuck that knife- this is so beautiful why're we even using it?" You almost were baffled, blinking at the degree of 'extra' this was. "S' a gift from yer lame best friend and her dumb bird brained idiot." Katsuki rolled his eyes, and Shouto smiled, "I like it, no idea why it's a knife though?" "Cause she said she wants to be a part of a family celebration so she'd shove an object in the ceremony." Bakugou cackled, impressed by the clinginess of your friend.

"Alright, let me cut the cake. Shut up you two! I love this knife." You almost roared, giggling and cutting the cake while they both hummed a very fine-tuned, melodious and almost acoustic version of the song 'Happy Birthday'. There was an acoustic music, serene and relaxing playing in the background while you held back from tearing up. They can be so nasty with their love towards you, spoiling you & making sure you know just how much they love you. There was one time, Shouto said something that suddenly echoed in your mind as you chose him to take the first bite of the delicious dessert. "If you were cold and burning the world would provide you warmth, I will not think twice." It was one of the days when you had a bad day, and were sitting silently on his lap while he played with your hair. Now you know, he's fully capable of doing that. The second piece goes to Bakugou Katsuki himself, a force to reckon with. He might've not said anything but you know he will cause disasters in your minor problems. How do you know? Oh it's simple, he's almost glossy eyed every time you whine at something as little as a period cramp. He can't see you in pain and he can't see him being helpless about it. You find him using rage as an outlet when he feels so. So Katsuki of him.

"Happy birthday Princess." Katsuki echoed again, leaning in and stealing a passionate kiss.

"Happy birthday, dear Snowflake." hummed Shouto, hugging you extra tight causing you to whine in a whimper with giggles, stealing a kiss after.

"Let's go have dinner." Shouto coos, looking enamoured and whipped. "Then, yer gonna be daddy's dessert." Katsuki snickered, while you rolled your eyes with a grin.

"Course, I will be. I love you two!"  

#Bakugou x reader #Shouto x reader #Bakugou fluff #Shouto Fluff #BNHA x reader #MHA x reader

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter forty four

close to home | chapter forty four

plot: the reader is attacked at the Sanctuary

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,232 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, attempted rape/sexual assult, murder A/N: thank you for reading!!!

On your fourth day at the Sanctuary, Negan came to see you after you ate breakfast with the other wives. Sherry gave you a reassuring look, and you followed Negan out the sitting room door. 

It was quiet as the two of you walked, and you tried your hardest to ignore the lighting reflecting off the barbed wire bat. Negan led you through the compound and out the front doors. It was the first time you felt fresh air, and you closed your eyes at the feeling of it. 

When you opened them, Negan stared at you and leaned against the railing. “I thought you might like some fresh air.” He said to you. For the first time, he wasn’t playing his little game. He was talking like a normal person. But you felt like this was another game. One he used to get people’s guards down. 

“I would, thank you,” You said. 

“Sherry says you’re adjusting. I’m happy to hear it. And she seems to like you.” Negan said. 

You nodded but weren’t sure what else to say. Finally, “Thank you, Negan.”

He smiled, and you knew it was what he wanted. “I’m going to be heading to Alexandria tomorrow. I figured I’d give Rick a nice visit and see what the community offers me.”

You froze at his words and didn’t reply. 

“I’ll have Dwight come by before and see if you want him to grab anything for you since this is where you belong now,” Negan said, standing straight up and walking towards the stairs. 

You knew you were expected to follow him, so you did. You kept your gaze low as Negan approached the walker fence, but when you felt someone’s gaze burning, you saw Daryl working the fence. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you felt your fingers twitch. You hoped Negan didn’t hear, but by the smile on his face, you knew he did. When you felt his arm wrap around your waist, you wanted to squirm but stayed still. What a terrible game he liked to play.

“Well, look who we have here,” Negan said, leading you over to the fence. “Daryl’s working the fence. Don’t mind us, of course, just taking my beautiful wife on a walk on this beautiful day.” Negan taunted him. 

Your eyes remained locked on Daryl’s, and you could see the anger rising to his chest. You shook your head slowly, trying to tell him not to do something stupid. 

“Do you have a problem with that, Daryl?” Negan further pressed, “Or are you just admiring the piece of ass my wife is. Do you have anything to say to her?"

You bit your lip to suppress your words and again shook your head at Daryl. 

For once in his life, he didn’t react to his anger, and you wanted to cry for thankfulness. Daryl just simply shook his head and went back to work. 

Negan chuckled and gave your side a squeeze before pulling you along. It took every ounce of strength not to look back. 

Your gaze turned to the man you met yesterday, Jake, standing nearby. He had seen the entire thing and was staring at you. You tried not to shiver under the gaze. 

***

Later that night, it was just you, Sherry, and Amber in the sitting room. Sherry suggested watching a movie, and you decided you wanted to. You needed something to get your mind off of how depressed you’d been. 

You had popcorn for the first time in ages with an iced cold beer, and if things were completely different, you might have been content. And you were warming up to the wives. They were all in the same predicament as you, so you couldn’t hate them. It helped that you weren’t alone. 

The movie was nearing it’s end when the doors opened, and the three of you stilled as men walked into the room. If there was one thing you leaned over the past few days, saviors weren’t allowed on this floor without Negan. So when you didn’t see Negan, you grew worried. 

“Jake, what is this?” Sherry asked, standing up. 

The savior didn’t say anything and nodded towards one you didn’t recogonize, and he pulled a gun on the three of you. 

Amber whimpered, and Sherry grabbed both of your arms. “Jake, what are you doing?”

“I’m getting my revenge,” Jake said. Then to the man with a gun, “Get Sherry and Amber against the wall, now.”

A few more guys walked into the room, totaling seven, and you were vastly outnumbered. Then you heard Daryl grunting as he was pulled in, and your stomach dropped. “What is this?” You asked through your teeth. 

Jake walked over to you and grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the couch. 

“Don’ touch her!” Daryl yelled. 

“Jake, don’t do this!” Sherry shouted, holding a shaking Amber. “You know what he’ll do to you,”

“Negan’s busy with a little distraction downstairs,” Jake said, “And besides, we ain’t killing anyone.” 

Your eyes widened as another man grabbed your arms from behind. You heard Daryl yelling, and you only looked at him for a few seconds, trying to fight off the four men holding him hostage. 

Jake grabbed your legs as you squirmed and kicked, but they got you to the floor in a second. 

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed, thrashing your legs and trying to pull your arms free. But the man holding your arms pinned them down, and Jake put his weight on your legs. You cried out in terror and pain.

“(Y/N)!” Daryl’s voice was like torture. 

“You shouldn’t have killed my brother,” Jake said. 

"Fuck you!" You screamed, kicking as hard as you could. "I'm glad that son of a bitch is dead, and I will kill you for this."

You heard the tear of your panties and felt your dress being pushed up. 

The yelling in the room got louder, and you closed your eyes as you prepared yourself for what would happen. Your body shook with sobs, and you tried to pull your hands away one last time before you knew you were defeated. 

Just when you knew it was about to happen, when you were trying your best to block out Sherry's yelling, Amber's sobs and Daryl screaming obscenities, promises of death, and trying to fight, you heard Negan’s whistle. 

Your body filled with relief as you watched saviors flood into the room and Negan slaughter on in. You were immediately released, and you pulled down your dress, shaking and crawling away from the men that held you. 

Sherry darted across the room as you cornered yourself by the wall, and she dropped down next to you, taking you in her arms. You couldn’t stop crying and shaking. 

“Well, well, well,” Negan said, looking around the room. “Here I am, trying to sort out some damn issues downstairs, when Frankie comes up to me and tells me the floors locked, and she heard screaming! Can you believe that?”

“I thought to myself,” Negan said, scratching his temple, “She must be mistaken! For I knew my wives were havin’ a good ol’ fashioned movie night here under my care! And then I realized some of my men were missing,”

You watched through Sherry’s arm as Negan approached the man who had a gun on her and Amber. He took the gun from the man and, within half a second, shot him in the head. 

“So I let Simon deal with the issue while I went to find out what was going on with my wives,” Negan said, swirling his bat. He approached the man that had been holding your hands. “And I do not like what I see.” With one swing, the man was on the ground, dead. 

Then Negan approached you, and you shook harder in Sherry’s arms. He knelt before you, "Baby, are you okay?”

You shook your head no.

Negan stood up. “You see that! My wife isn’t okay! And oh, no, no, no. I do not like that at all.” Negan circled the room, and his eyes landed on Daryl, still pinned to the ground. “And to make him watch? Jesus! Even I’m not that fucked up.” 

He gave a nod to the saviors who had come up with him, and they quickly replaced the four men that had pinned Daryl down. 

“Take these men to the cells; they’ll be dealt with later,” Negan said. 

There was some shuffling, and then Daryl was on his feet, held back by different men. You met his eyes, and your heart cracked at the hopelessness on his face. You wanted to be wrapped up in his arms; you wanted him to tell you everything was okay. But you didn’t dare move. 

“And I guess that just leaves you,” Negan said, looking at Jake. “I gotta know just what you were thinking! You thought you could put guns on Sherry and Amber and rape my wife!” Negan started yelling. His voice deepened, and you flinched at the sound of it. Sherry hugged you harder. 

“I-I..."

“Don’t you dare try to lie to me!” Negan screamed, “We caught you in the act. And oh boy, are you going to regret ever thinking up this plan of yours. You think you can touch what’s mine? I’m Negan!” 

You heard the bat hit Jake’s arm, and the sound of Jake screaming in pain. He dropped to the floor, and you flinched as you watched Negan strike every part of Jake that wouldn’t kill him. 

“We don’t rape!” Negan yelled. The bat came down again and again and again. You heard bone crunching through Jake’s cries of agony. 

“And now look at what you made me do; I made such a mess in my wive's sitting room!” Negan said, “Guys, take him to the doc, have him fixed up. Oh, do I got plans for this one. And get Daryl back to his room, now! And get someone to clean up this mess!” 

Everyone shuffled, and within thirty seconds, it was just you, Sherry, Amber, and Negan in the room. A giant puddle of blood pooled on the floor, your only evidence of what happened. 

Negan helped you stand up on shaking legs, and he lifted your chin to make you look at him. “Listen to me, (Y/N), if anyone touches you, you come to me, you got it?” He asked, and his voice was so genuine you knew it wasn’t an act. “Sherry, why don’t you take her to get washed up. Are any of you hurt?”

“No,” Sherry answered for you, wrapping her arms around your shoulder. “Come on, (Y/N),” She said to you. 

You took a few steps with her before you paused and turned back to look at Negan. You’d never seen the look on his face before. This wasn’t the Negan you knew. This was something different. This looked more… real. Like he genuinely cared about what happened.

“Negan,” You said quietly, and he looked at you. “Thank you."

#daryl x y/n #daryl dixion x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl x you

[justyanle]

I warmly greet! Can I have a request for Miles Spider from Avatar please? Where the reader (human) tries to learn how to jump and climb trees like her good friend Spider does, but during the training she missteps and is in danger of falling down from a great height. She manages to grab the edges of the branch, but she can't climb back up, so out of sheer fear and desperation, she screams for help...and Spider hears her.

Please something cuteeeee, I adore this boy!❤️

Well Being

(Spider x f!Reader)

Spider has been helping you get used to the environment of Pandora until things go wrong or rather, right.

Content Warning: Fluff, slight swearing, reader almost getting hurt, more fluff, Spider x f!Reader

As of the moment, you were trying to imitate the boy who had grown up in the forest - he's strong and hasty, ridiculously jacked for his age.

You were another baby that got stuck on the green and bioluminescent lands of Pandora. Unlike Spider, you reserved yourself in the lab growing up, often preferring to study the surroundings rather than being in it.

Your athletic abilities weren't the best, usually having trouble trailing behind Spider's lean physique.

This disadvantage was one of the things you dreaded due to the fact you were currently trying to climb up a tall tree in the woods.

"Spider! This better be worth it!" you yelled at the boy far down on the ground as the only thing he was focused on was your figure high above a branch of the wood you were seated on.

"I won't catch you if you fall, you gotta learn how to be independent, [Y/N]!" he teased, a cheeky smile accompanying his face in amusement while you were doing your best to keep your body stable and balanced on the tree branch that stood high.

Spider knew you were lacking in the athletic field so he wanted to train you for the instances in the forest.

Though, that's what he wanted to believe.

Spider wanted to take you to all the breathtaking views and nature in the environment you grew opposite of. He was hoping to have more time and moments with you, the gushy feeling in his stomach would always bubble in his stomach when you were there, even just mentioned.

Pushing your nervous emotions to the side, standing up on the branch that had your knees shaky.

Jittering, you got your stance ready to leap onto another large piece of wood in front of you, searching for it's stability.

You wind up your body, preparing for the big leap you were about to perform. With all your might and strength, the locomotions of your body moved and -

"SHIT!"

Your hand was gripping onto the branch you had tried to make your big jump on, trying to compose all your body weight with a tight hold of your digits off the tree you were hanging off.

Not wanting to give up your pride, you tried to pull your body higher that was getting weighed down by Pandora's gravity, though that resulted in a shaking arm and a hand releasing its hold.

You were close to tears, not sure if it was because of the fear that you were going to possibly fall or if it was because of your ego hurting if you called for Spider.

Sighing, you could only prepare for the embarrassment and shame you would face after this inciden, not wanting to seem weak.

"Spider! Help!"

Spider's head followed the source of the high pitched sound of screams, the view he found was the image of your body dangling from a high piece of the tree you were climbing and jumping on.

"Shit! [Y/N]! Hang on, okay?!" he onwardly rushed to the tree with no signs of showing struggle, leaping and climbing onto branches one by one. His toned and muscular body was working it's way to you, his agility and flexibility working all at the same time.

The boy was nearing your aching body, trying to hold onto the tree for your life, your last moments could've been possibly happening. With one last jump, he was on the branch you were dangling off of.

"[Y/N]! You good?" he asked, taking your one arm that was still clinging to the Pandorian oak and pulling you with strength. Once he pulled you up enough, your other hand finally got ahold of the branch you were bracing yourself on and pushed your body weight up.

Spider has successfully pulled you onto the thick and sturdy branch where the two of you now shared the space on.

The scared boy spoke up, "My God, oh my God.." voice trembling and breathy due to the fact that he almost lost you and the speedy trek he performed in order to save the precious girl he adored.

"Thank you Spider.. Thank you..." you sweetly mumbled into his neck, basically straddling his thighs and kept your arms around his neck, his muscular biceps around and wrapped around your waist.

"You're okay now [Y/N], you're okay."

He felt foolish for making you risk your life just to be able to hang out with him rather than adjusting his ways for you, he felt immense shame and guilt creep into his chest, he couldn't take the mental picture of you - his [Y/N], being in danger just to have the ability to make memories with him.

But,

he knew he could only care less about his feelings at the moment, he only cared about you. All of you. He was more than relieved and happy to see your state of well-being with no bruises or scratches, it was perfect. You are perfect.

a/n: this is so half assed and im still suffering from the shame of accidentally posting a whole ass fanfic that was supposed 2 be a draft..... if u saw it no u didnt, thank you for requesting and my reqs r still open

#atwow #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar movie #miles socorro #miles spider socorro x reader #miles spider socorro #avatar spider x reader #spider avatar x reader #spider avatar #avatar spider #spider socorro x reader #spider socorro #spider x reader

[roll-for-gaslight]

for whosoever believeth in him (shall not perish but have everlasting life)

An exploration of the two oldest Applebees siblings' relationship with religion. tw// religious trauma, child abuse, let me know if I should add anything else.

AO3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55677883/chapters/141332254

Part One: The Prophet

Part Two: The Proselyte

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight."

-Proverbs 3:5-6

When Kristen was having a hard day, this is the verse that came to mind most often. It was the one she fell back on when it got hard to stay awake at church, or Bucky did something to annoy her and her first instinct was to annoy him back. She was Helio’s Chosen, she knew better than to act like that. It’s not Bucky’s fault he hadn’t learned yet, he wasn’t Chosen like her, he would come to it in his own time. Instead, she would correct him gently and mend anything he broke with a Mending cantrip, one of the earliest signs of her Blessing. It’s the one she’s repeating under her breath now, as she dies in a highschool cafeteria, surrounded by the corn that should have, by all accounts, been blessed with Helio’s light and protected or healed her rather than harmed her. It’s her first set of dying words, though no one else would ever know it. 

She sneaks her principal into heaven only to be sent back to the mortal plane herself. Worse than that, Helio refuses to answer the one question that’s been sitting on her mind for years: why do you let bad things happen to good people? Not only does he not have an answer, he throws her out of the afterlife when s he asks. There is a seed of doubt firmly planted in her heart by that interaction, though she supposes this isn’t the first time she felt a flutter of something like it. 

"I can do all this through Him who gives me strength."

-Philippians 4:13

She supposes this could have gone better. She’s never been left home alone to babysit before, but her parents say that since he just turned nine she’s finally old enough. She’s making macaroni and cheese, with all three boys running around the dining room table. Bucky and Bricker are chasing Cork around the table because he has something she can’t quite make out in his hands, all screaming over each other. She’s just glad that when she told them it wasn’t safe to play in the kitchen they actually listened to her. She felt herself glow with pride at the thought, knowing her mom and dad would be proud of her for taking care of everyone tonight if all went well. 

Then, a lot of things happen at once. There’s a crash, a scream, a thudding sound, and then all her brothers are crying. Bricker runs into the kitchen and barely stops short of crashing into her. 

“KRISTENKristencomequickit’sCorkhe’shurt and—” he half-shouts, but she stops listening. 

“Stay here, turn off the stove, and bring me the emergency phone!” she says immediately, shouting her instructions as she runs into the other room. When she arrives she sees Bucky first, blood all over his hands and face. It takes her a moment to remember what Bricker said and realize it isn’t his own blood, but Cork’s. She casts her eyes downward to see her youngest brother lying there, limp and colorless as blood pooled around him. There’s an action figure, one of Bucky’s, scattered into several pieces about a foot away from his hand. She approaches quickly, realizing that the blood is coming from his head, and grabs one of the napkins off of the table as she pushes Bucky out of the way.

“What happened?” she demands. Bucky looks up at her through his tears, and she realizes abruptly that she doesn’t know how to fix this. 

“We were just trying to get my Adventure Man toy back! I tried to grab him and he lost his balance and his head hit the table and then he just started bleeding so fast I didn’t know what to do,” he says, and she does her best to offer him a comforting smile. 

“Everything is going to be okay,” she assures him, silently begging Helio for forgiveness for bearing false witness, knowing the moment the lie passes her lips that she’ll have to repent in church for it on Sunday. He seems to relax at her words. “Go and get the black bottle with the white cap from under the bathroom sink.” she says, and he runs off. She’s left alone, for just a moment, with a slowly-dying Cork, and is faced with the helpless thought that she can’t heal him. She should have been watching him. 

She begins to whisper prayers, each and every one she knows, under her breath. 

Bucky and Bricker enter the room at the same time, both holding the things she instructed them to grab. She takes the hydrogen peroxide and tells Bucky to take the phone and call their parents, tell them they need to come home, but she’s not sure how to proceed after that. She feels tears prickle in her eyes as Cork’s breathing becomes shallower and shallower, and does her best to clean the wound and wrap it up despite the fact that the blood-soaked towel isn’t doing much anymore. 

Just when the tears begin to fall, the moment that all hope seems lost, it happens. Her hands glow with a brilliant, burning golden light and the air fills with the scent of popcorn. Cork’s eyes fly open as the color returns to his face, and suddenly she can breathe again. She pulls her littlest brother into a tight hug, and Bucky and Bricker join them. She can faintly hear the sound of her parents as they come through the door, moments too late to be helpful but she’s grateful they’re there nonetheless. The whole world feels far away except for her brothers, right here with her. 

“What happened here?” her mom asks, “Kristen, did you just heal your brother? Was he hurt, did you heal him?” 

Kristen looks up from the hug and is only able to nod before her dad starts to separate the four of them. Bucky and Bricker move back when they’re told to, sent off to get cleaned up, but it takes her a few extra seconds before she can let herself let go. Her mom wraps her arms around her to guide her into the living room, and through the shock Kristen can faintly hear her calling Pastor Amelia to share the good news. 

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is Sol’s will for you in Lord Helio.”

-1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Kristen’s eyes are starting to get heavy. She’s been staring upward for almost a full twenty-four hours at that point, feeling the searing heat of Sol’s light burn her face as she murmurs her prayers along with the pastor onstage. Pastor Amelia’s shift ended some time ago, so it was a man’s low southern drawl leading them now, but she can’t be sure how long it’s been. She’s ten, so it’s not her first Harvest Festival, so Helio is making her last longer than he used to before he intervenes to help her through her prayers. Her skin feels raw and blistering, and her eyes strain against the unrelenting light. She’s doing her best to make him proud.  

She knows the girl beside her, who seemed so devoted when they met at the beginning, was carried out after only three hours or so. The boy in front of her passed out from the heat not long after. She had noticed that he drank all of his daily water in the first hour, but could do nothing to warn him. Bucky is on her other side, here for his first year in the Prayer and doing well. Next year they’ll be in different age groups, but she’s glad to have him here now. She’s pretty sure he’ll have to kneel soon because of how he’s shaking and sweating. Kneeling is allowed as long as they know you’re still awake. There’s a part of her that wants to kneel first so he’s not nervous, but she also knows it’s important that she remains standing as long as possible to fully connect with Helio. 

She knows that probably within the hour, they’ll get an optional ten-minute break to refill their water. If Bucky can last until then, she’s pretty sure he’ll be able to make it through the next day. 

He kneels, his head falling onto the ground immediately. She knows it’s technically against the rules, but she kicks him in the arm and casts one of her smallest healing spells for him. She can barely see in her peripheral vision as he glows momentarily and looks up at her. He’s still faintly murmuring prayers, so he’s not actually out yet. Kristen feels the toll the spell takes and her knees buckle, so she slowly kneels to avoid taking out those around her if she falls. She distantly notices several other kids around her kneel quickly after, as if they were all awaiting her cue as Chosen. She thinks she should maybe feel guilty for that, but she can’t quite bring care about them right now, only Bucky. He’s still sweating, but as she kneels he seems to remember his placement and raises his face to the sun yet again. 

She waits anxiously for someone to say something or for Helio’s reprimand to come for breaking the rules. He sees all, so she knows it’s hopeless to think he won’t notice. 

Despite that, nothing comes. When the ten-minute break arrives, Bucky turns as if to speak with her and she just hands him her water jug. “Can you fill this for me, Buck? I’m going to pray through the break. As much ice as you can crush in there, please.” she requests, and he nods. 

“Yeah, Kristy, I can do that. I’ll let mom and dad know,” he responds, and she suddenly and desperately wishes for last year, when she was the only one of her siblings doing the full prayer and Bucky’s only job was to make sure she had water on breaks, free to spend most of the rest of the festival playing and enjoying the summer. 

The pastor is taking a break, so anyone staying is welcome to do their own prayers. If there’s anyone else in the field, they must be really far away from her. She feels the breeze for the first time in a while, but the sun also beats down harder than before. She sends Helio her apologies, doing her best to appease him, but never feels the sweet rejuvenation of his miracles. Not until the very last second of what should have been her break, right as people return to the field. She feels all eyes on her as she realizes she must have been the only one that stayed judging by the size of the crowd. Right as she registers that information, she feels a warmth in her chest. It expands outward and the day becomes ten times brighter. She’s glowing and feels herself becoming weightless. She knows it’s Helio’s blessing at last, knew all along that forgoing her break was the perfect way to repent. It lasts a full minute before she slowly descends, and when she does she feels it.

She feels like she’s fresh off of a full night’s sleep, completely refreshed. Her braid has redone itself, she feels clean, and her skin is no longer blistering. People suddenly crowd around her on all sides, each kneeling beside her and taking a moment to look up to the sky before returning to their new formation, remaking the neat lines that had been lost before as others failed. Bucky is the last to approach and takes his place beside her, reaching out to grab her hand for one fleeting moment before pulling away again. He puts her water jug and his own between them. For a while, everything is perfect. 

Seven hours later, the night brings a unique challenge, and the one that finally removes Bucky from the Prayer. It’s much cooler, a reprieve from the intense heat of the sun, but it’s also dark. At this point in the festival, that makes it too easy to fall asleep. He has the sense to kneel before he does it, but not to totally avoid colliding with Kristen. He falls across her feet, and suddenly she feels tears in her eyes. Maybe she should give up too, help him out of the crowd. She knows it would be frowned upon, and can picture the look of disappointment on her mom and dad’s faces when they see her step away. She can’t bring herself to move. Someone comes to collect Bucky, but she doesn’t see who. 

She lasts until noon the next day. It’s been a full forty-eight hours, and she’s the last one standing for their entire age group. The field is empty around her. The clock strikes loudly for twelve o’clock, the time of day where Helio’s magic is the strongest, and suddenly her legs buckle and go out from beneath her. She hits the ground hard, feels the dirt and rocks scrape against her knee. The moment her head hits the ground, she loses consciousness. 

Kristen wakes up alone on a cot. There’s a window open, letting fresh air and a little early morning light into the room. She checks her crystal to see it’s six in the morning, eyes aching at the light from the screen until she turns the brightness setting all the way down. She hovers over her mom’s contact for a few moments, considering texting to see where to find them, but can’t bring herself to actually do so. She closes her eyes instead to do a silent prayer for her daily spells, and it feels like a weight off her chest when she feels the holy magic fill her with warmth. Helio is proud of her. She did good. 

“Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the Lord Helio is giving you.”

-Exodus 20:12

“Kristen, I don’t know how many times we’re going to have to go over this. If they don’t worship Helio, they’re sinners. It doesn’t matter what they do or say because anything done outside of Sol’s light is sin.” her dad is saying, frustration coloring his tone. 

Her mom nods in agreement. “If they aren’t faithful, they aren’t your friend. If you can’t depend on them to make the right choice on the most important decision, how can you trust them with anything else?”

Kristen finds herself at a loss for words. It had been Bricker who started all of this, playing with that little Goblin girl on the playground before Mac and Donna had gotten the chance to pull him away. It had been an innocent question. “But she was so nice, what could be wrong with her?” he had said. He’d also immediately accepted his parents’ simple answer: she was a non-believer. Kristen had been fighting this battle for half an hour at this point, determined to show her parents the truth of Helio’s light. This is part of being Chosen, she thinks. It’s her job to right these wrongs, even if it means standing up to her parents. 

“Mom, Dad, Sol’s light touches all creatures the same. If they act with good intentions and follow the rules of scripture, they have potential to find faith. Isn’t it our job to lead them there, and let them take their own path there? It doesn’t make them bad people, just lost ones.” she says, not for the first time. 

“That’s enough, Kristen,” Mac says finally, using his this-conversation-is-over voice. She winces slightly, knowing that she’s in trouble. “You need to drop this, or we’ll have to go have a talk with Pastor Amelia about you questioning Helio’s word. Is that what you want?”

Panic fills her at the thought of Pastor Amelia’s disappointed face and tone. There’s no way she would still be Helio’s Chosen if she really questioned Him and she knows it. Pastor Amelia having to step in would definitely call it to His attention. She shakes her head quickly. 

“No! No, of course not. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to question Him. I just didn’t understand, I guess,” she assures them quietly, and they seem satisfied. When she glances at her brothers, Bricker looks disappointed. She looks away.

“There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies and a person who stirs up conflict in the community.”

-Proverbs 6:16–19

Kristen has never been more excited than her first day of highschool. She’s excited to make friends, and to fulfill Helio’s word by showing them the light. It’s the whole reason that she wanted to go to Aguefort, and it’s why she asks Daybreak to send her to detention with the bad kids. Who better to help the most lost souls in the school than the Chosen of Helio? Who better to bring them under his holy gaze?

She feels a little bad for lying, but knows that she can repent for it tonight and Helio will understand. She feels worse about asking Daybreak to lie for her, and knows she needs to apologize to him too. She’s Chosen, she should know how to act better than that.

It doesn’t matter. They don’t seem happy about her proselytizing, but they seem to like her anyway. She’s looking forward to her new group, to finally getting the chance to be the yeast that makes the whole loaf rise. 

She dies instead. 

“Do not practice homosexuality, having sex with another man as with a woman. It is a detestable sin."

-Leviticus 18:22

Tracker is maybe the coolest person Kristen has ever met. She’s openly queer, a werewolf, and she worships Galicaea. She grew up in the church and chose to leave it, which is scary, but it’s also really… Exciting? Thrilling? Enticing? Attractive? Kristen isn’t sure she has exactly the right word for it yet, but she knows it feels almost good. 

She’s not so sure about Helio anymore. How could He not have the answers she was looking for? Not even for her, His Chosen? What did it even mean to be Chosen by Him? Did it mean anything, if she didn’t choose Him too? She’s not so sure anymore. 

She hates that she hasn’t seen her brothers all week. It’s not like it is with her parents with them, they haven’t done anything wrong. She hates that her long school days have led to her avoiding her whole family. She’s had more sleepovers since school started than she has in the whole rest of her life. 

She’s pretty sure she has a crush on Tracker. What would that mean for her? Would that make her gay? Or maybe bi? She hopes, for a moment, for that to be the truth but now that she’s thinking about it the thought of spending the rest of her life with a husband in a traditional marriage sounds… suffocating. Spending the rest of her life with someone fun and interesting like Tracker sounds so much better. 

Maybe Helio isn’t everything. Maybe her parents are right about him, and if they are then she’s not interested. Maybe Helio holds hatred in his heart. 

Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe she’ll find something new. 

Maybe she’ll take a leap of faith. 

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

-Hebrews 11:1

She can still cast magic. She’s not sure who or how, but her leap of faith didn’t strip her of her divine magic. She can still heal her friends, and her Spirit Guardians aren’t corn-themed. The magic flowing through her is strange and new, no longer searing heat but instead a slight chill that shoots its way through her from her very core. 

Every night’s a sleepover as long as she’s not living at home. Her parents haven’t even tried to get her home yet, not even a text since the other night. She’s just glad Fig and Gilear have been so nice to let Kristen move in with them. There’s no way she would have been able to leave that house if they hadn’t offered; she couldn’t imagine actually asking her friends to take care of her like this. Fig was just nice enough to offer first, so she didn’t feel as bad just accepting. 

Tracker is going to be her girlfriend, she’s pretty sure. She still has to actually ask, but she’s pretty sure the feelings she’s having are reciprocal. She talks to Ragh, quietly and briefly, about being gay. He doesn’t make fun of her, which she suspected he wouldn’t. He just nods respectfully along as she speaks and gives her a little head pat before they depart, the most affection she’s seen him show anyone but Dayne. 

Kristen’s decided that she’s happy with who she is. If someone has a problem with it, she doesn’t need to care. That’s how Tracker talks about it all: her queerness, her religion, her lycanthropy. There’s no reason Kristen should have to change who she is for some bullshit rules that don’t actually mean anything. Fuck anyone who says otherwise.

 “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

-Ephesians 2:8-9

Kristen is dying again. In the gym, at prom, she is being killed by the vice principal, but it doesn’t even matter. As Helio’s Chosen she is directed straight towards the main office of Heaven when she arrives, only to find Arthur Aguefort waiting for him. Not only does he agree to come back and help her return, but he also gives her his watch to use. 

Oh, and she creates a new god. 

No big deal. 

Okay, big deal. She hates her new god, but it’ll be okay. Maybe YES! just has to grow on her. 

“For Sol so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life”

-John 3:16

The chapel makes Tracker freak out, but Kristen can’t get the image of the goddess out of her head. She was beautiful, and there was something strikingly familiar about her. She tries several times to draw her, but to no avail. She doesn’t voice her desires to her friends or even to Tracker on any kind of deeper level, but feels herself drawn to the idea of a forgotten goddess who specializes in doubt. Doubt has already gotten her this far, right? 

As they venture into Sylvaire and split up to gather the ingredients, only to lose all their allies except Gilear. Oh, yeah, and Kristen almost dies again, but at least this time she saves Riz. At least this time she has the chance to do some good. She thinks that it’s worth it as long as her friends are safe. 

When they make it to the chapel in the forest, their second time coming in, she’s grateful to have Fabian watching her back. The whole place seems creepy, but also strangely alluring. She wants to understand who this goddess was before she was abandoned. Why would her followers do this to her? She steps closer. 

‘Why do you searching for me?’ a low, crackling voice speaks directly into her mind. 

“I heard that you were the goddess of doubt, and that really resonates with me right now,” Kristen begins to say, but those aren’t the right words. She pauses for a moment to think. “I have a lot of praise for you.” she says finally. 

There’s a sharp pain in her chest, accompanied by a horrible wet sound. She chokes, suddenly unable to catch her breath, and grasps for whatever hurt her only to make contact with something that feels like solid bone. She looks down and— Is that a spike? 

Fabian says something and then he’s gone and it’s dark. She holds onto consciousness for as long as she can, tilting her head up to the sky and wishing, just for a moment, for the strength of a god supporting her the way Helio used to. It doesn’t come. Neither do her friends.

‘I have a lot of praise for you.’

What was she thinking?

Kristen Applebees, dying yet again with a prayer on her lips.

“‘Who’ is easy. It is us, everything, and you. ‘Why’ is harder.’Why’ is something that only you can decide. The universe doesn't have a ‘why’.”

For a while, she’s floating in nothing. She doesn’t have a sense of time or space, it’s neither light nor dark, there is no sensation. Everything is just empty for a while, and then it’s not anymore. Her eyes are already open when she comes to, face turned upward towards the ceiling. 

She looks down to find a gaping hole in her chest, her tie-dye shirt soaked through with blood. She puts her hand through it to make sure it’s not an illusion, but realizes belatedly that that doesn’t mean anything in the Nightmare forest. Looking at her hand, she realizes that her pinky finger is missing too. 

She slowly, carefully, wanders out of the room and into the forest. Her friends are far away, and she’s scared, and she’s pretty sure she’s still dead. That suspicion is confirmed when she’s brought face-to-face with the person she wants to see the least right now: Helio. He’s accompanied by Sol and a woman Kristen doesn’t immediately recognize. 

The woman introduces herself as Galicaea, Tracker’s goddess, and Kristen can’t help but feel comforted by the thought of her girlfriend for a few moments before it all goes wrong. Are these her only options? Sol’s bullshit or Galicaea’s? 

No. 

She’ll make her own options. She punches Helio in the face. 

Her philosophers aid her as they always have, helping her find the path away and giving her magic while she can’t rely on a deity. She knows what she needs to do. 

She’s going to bring back the mystery goddess, no matter what it takes. 

“The first rule of existence is as above, so below. People are fractal images of the universe. You are, as we are.”

If the first rule is as above, so below, that’s where she’ll start.

She ends up deep in the forest, and she can hear Tracker hunting her somewhere in the distance. She takes mud from the forest floor and blood from her own chest, using it to paint the goddess’s face on the bark of a wide tree. She’s no artist, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

She all but lays down, her knees folded underneath her and body pressed low, but her eyes cast up to the image. Slowly, it shifts until it shows the image of a beautiful goddess, the very one Kristen has been reaching out for. 

She appears in an inky void, mountains in the distance and a deity made of starlight in front of her. They speak of finding comfort in the dark unknown and wielding doubt as a tool rather than holding it in her heart; Kristen feels something slot together like a piece has been missing from the core of her very existence and it’s finally here. 

She’s pulled out of the conversation by danger looming outside of her new twilight protective circle, but Tracker is the danger. He escapes into the woods, free yet again, and finally finds her friends. She feels drawn in until she can pull the pinky finger bone out of Adaine’s pocket. She casts raise dead, there’s a sudden bright flash of light, and then it’s done. 

She feels her body return to her, hears her friends’ exclamations of surprise at her sudden appearance. She can see, in the low dusk light, the purple tie-dye of her new shirt made to represent her new goddess. Cassandra. She takes her first breath.

St. Kristen Applebees is born again. 

#dimension 20 #d20 #fantasy high #moss speaks #fhjy spoilers #d20 fantasy high #dimension 20 fhjy #d20 fhsy #d20 fh #fhjy #fhsy #saint kristen applebees #kristen fantasy high #kristen applebees #bucky applebees #tw religion #tw religious themes #tw child abuse #tw child neglect #tw childhood trauma #ally beardsley #brennen lee mulligan #fanfic #d20 fanfic #the bad kids #gorgug #gorgug fantasy high #gorgug thistlespring #fabian fantasy high #fabian aramais seacaster

[hotreadingwitch]

MADE TO LIE - the city

Y/N 

Y/n yawned loudly as she woke from a deep slumber that was surely prompted by last night's bottle of wine. She tried to roll but found she was secured within a cage of sleeping super soldier limbs. Using literally all the strength she had in her, she managed to lift his bulky arm up and shimmy out, trying her best not to wake him. With a chuckle, she brushed her teeth before heading out of the suite and down to the hotel's adjoined café. 

"Two lattes to go please" she ordered when she finally reached the front of the line. 

The barista was a young person, maybe five or so years younger than her, with a short, purple quiff of curly hair. They blushed as their eyes widened, no doubt realizing who Y/n was, before breaking into a lop-sided smile. 

"Right away miss, I mean ma'am, I mean—" 

"Y/n is fine" she whispered conspiratorially, leaning in, making the barista blush even more. 

They nodded sharply before heading back over to the machines to make Y/n's order. When they were finally finished, their pale skin was redder than a firetruck. 

"Thanks," Y/n said with a wink. 

As she left the cafe and made her way back up in the elevator she couldn't help but smile. The drinks were a small gesture, she and Bucky hadn't talked very much when they'd gotten back to the hotel after their first "date" and of course, their first real kiss. She felt flushed and warm as she used the hotel key card to open the door. 

"Where were you!" An angry voice quickly brought her from her reverie. 

"What?" Y/n's nose scrunched in confusion. 

Bucky's massive pyjama-clad form suddenly surrounded her in a tight and desperate hug. He was soft against her somehow despite the hard ridges of his muscles. He pulled away his hands cupping her face as he searched her eyes for something, what she didn't know. 

"You—you" he fumbled with his words before continuing, his voice gruff, "I thought something had happened to you, I woke up and you were gone" 

"You do have a phone you know?" 

He seemed to deflate at this realization. 

"Right—I'm sorry I completely overreacted" he huffed out a small laugh as if he couldn't believe his own behaviour.

"Don't worry" she smiled at his sincerity, squeezing his hand, "It's sweet and uh I appreciate it...Coffee?"

"Thanks" he grumbled, reverting back to his usual grumpy self as he grabbed the cup. 

Luckily they were saved any more awkwardness as Tony's contact appeared on her phone, her ringtone filling the large space. 

"You two ready for your next date?" Tony asked with a wink. 

Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Listen, I don't want you two worried about tonight, it's just going to be another teaser for them to see you together before we organize a third date where we'll all actually be there to catch them. Tonight you'll barely have to lift a finger to convince them, if anything, I'm pretty sure they got the message seeing your little kiss last night" 

"Stark..." Bucky glared as Y/n flushed. 

Tony raised his hands in mock surrender, feigning innocence despite his jabs. 

"I'll let you two go now to do whatever you two want to get up to now but please remember not to fuck it up unnecessarily tonight, I'd hate to lose either of you" 

Tony's expressions of concern only ever came with a healthy dose of sass and sarcasm but that was just his way. Y/n loved him, truly, he was like a father to her, or definitely like a father figure, one she'd never had. Obviously, knowing the team's history, she knew that things between Bucky and Tony had previously been tense...to say the least. But now, it seemed that they'd warmed up to each other a bit. Tony respected Steve, cared for him even, and Steve didn't come without Bucky, therefore, peace. She knew it wasn't truly that simple, that they had struggled to work together for a long time but seeing their bond, no matter how shaky, present-day was enough for her to think, anything can happen. 

Bucky hung up the call with a press of his finger, leaning across her to do so, as she was still lost in thought...

"Y/n?" his soft voice still gravelly from the morning. 

"Yes?" she looked at him then, her eyes refocusing before forcing a laugh, "Must've zoned out for a bit, sorry"

"No need to apologize" he huffed with a small smile, "Now go get dressed, I've got somewhere I want to take you" 

"Is that so?" her eyes lit up immediately at the mysterious offer, "And I'm assuming you won't tell me where we're going?"

"Brooklyn" 

"Brooklyn" she confirmed with a quick nod that she was hoping came off as nonchalant as she bit down on her lip, realizing the significance, "Sounds good..." 

"You don't have to come if you don't want" he hesitated, seeming slightly bashful. 

"No, I want" she blushed, "I want to come I mean, to go with you" 

He huffed out a breath in that gruff manner of his that she couldn't help but love. He was taking her home. 

BUCKY

Y/n had never seen Bucky so animated before. As they walked through the streets of Greenpoint, he kept pointing out local businesses, his and Steve's old school, and alleyways he used to pull him out of when he'd let his big mouth get him into trouble, effectively giving her a history lesson, not just of the area but of his young life. The neighbourhood was made up of a mix of buildings, some tall and some short, almost all made of old, worn brick. They passed discount bookstores, colourful fruit stands, and amazing-smelling restaurants. But each time Y/n thought they might finally stop for lunch, Bucky pulled her one street further toward some unknown destination. 

Finally, they reached a little grey restaurant with a red sign that displayed a name in a language Y/n couldn't read. 

"Dzień dobry" Bucky greeted as they stepped into the small space, lined with red, curve-backed chairs and metal tables. 

There was a crash of a pan in the back that caused Bucky to start forward toward the sound until a much older woman came out and his posture visibly relaxed. 

"Ahhh James" she greeted, opening her arms wide. 

He hugged her for what seemed like a long time. 

"What were you doing back there Beatka?" he questioned, looking at her with found eyes, "Raising the dead?" 

"I would if I could," she smiled back playfully, their encounter showing just how familiar they were with each other. 

Her eyes flitted up to Y/n as if suddenly noticing her. She immediately grabbed both her hands, smiling somehow even brighter than before, practically beaming. 

"James, please tell me this is your girlfriend, yes?" 

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "No Beatka she's not, she's—she's one of my colleagues"

"Nonsense," Beatka swatted at him, ignoring him completely as he began to protest, "What's your name moja aniołku?" 

"My angel" Bucky whispered to her, making her eyes widen before she realized that's what the old woman was calling her. 

"Y/n" she smiled politely, "It's lovely to meet you!" 

Beatka's smile was wider than any Y/n had ever seen in all her time on Earth, excluding maybe Wanda's when she inevitably won on game night at the compound. 

"Beautiful name, beautiful name, perfect for a beautiful girl ahh" 

Y/n blushed just as Beatka turned abruptly, heading over towards the cash register and counter that separated the restaurant's seating from the kitchen. She glanced up to look at Bucky but he seemed to be sheepishly avoiding her gaze. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her along, following Beatka through to the kitchen where there was a small table pushed just far enough from the steaming ovens. 

"Sit, sit" Beatka ordered, suddenly stern, "I've been making—" 

"Cabbage rolls" Bucky interrupted with a sniff of the air, earning a glare from Beatka that was, of course, followed by a cheeky smile, like she couldn't resist doting on him. 

He leaned over her, planting a sweet kiss on the top of her white-haired head. She preened after that, preparing the plates with a satisfied air about her. As if knowing that Bucky recognized her infamous cabbage rolls was her biggest achievement to date. 

When she finally set the food down, presenting it with a sweet "ta-da," Y/n's stomach growled, literally growled. 

"Ohh, that's the best compliment" Beatka grinned at Y/n, before planting a kiss on her cheek then Bucky's. 

Realizing there were only two plates set Y/n reached out, "You're not eating with us?" 

"No, moja kochana" she flicked a significant look at Bucky. 

He translated again, his cheekbones turning slightly red as he softly said, "My Love" 

"I'll leave you two to it" 

"Okay" Y/n smiled again, her neck also flushing, "Thank you"

"Of course, of course" 

And with that she was gone, leaving Bucky and her to sit in silence for a while, the steaming food not the only thing heated between them. 

"So how did you two meet?" Y/n asked casually as she took a first bite of her food, blushing at the strained look that passed across Bucky's face as she literally moaned out loud in response to the taste. 

"I have property around here," he said vaguely, "So I've been coming to see Beatka for a couple of years now and uhh—I've also known her since she was born" 

Y/n practically choked on her cabbage roll, earning another look from Bucky. 

"When was she born?" 

"1923, the first year the Yankees won the World Series, she's 4 years younger than me" 

Y/n reeled in her shock, remembering everything she already knew about Bucky and his old age, instead choosing to focus on the other detail, "You like baseball?"

"As much as the next man, sure" he shrugged noncommittally, "Used to take my younger brothers, Jacob and Henry, to practice just around the corner from here" 

"For some reason" she smiled playfully, "I can't imagine you being anyone's babysitter"

"Rebecca and the twins were all younger than me, I'm a big brother at heart Y/n so you better start believing" his eyes flickered with humour as he used her words from the drive down. It felt surreal to her that it was only a couple of days ago that they were talking at the diner. Just another day, another restaurant, and yet there was something drastically different. Y/n could feel it, whatever it was, quickly growing between them. 

"What were they like?" she asked softly. 

"Trouble all three of them" he laughed, nostalgia filling the cracks beside his eyes, "I loved them a lot." He looked down, avoiding her gaze again in embarrassment. But his eyes flicked up when he felt her hand resting on top of his. 

"Thank you for telling me," she said and meant it. 

"Thank you for listening" Y/n could tell he tried not to let his tear fall but it did anyway. A sole representation of the mound of grief she knew he must burdened with. She had lost her family too, and though it was her choice to leave her father, she'd always grieved the loss regardless. 

"I had a sister" Y/n admitted, earning a look of surprise from Bucky, "She was a lot younger than me, an accident. I loved her dearly, right until the day she died" 

"What happened?" concern lined his face. 

"My father got caught up in a web of lies so thick it almost killed us all. He wasn't being honest with his henchmen, even those higher up he was lying to. Because of that, miscommunication was his downfall. If he had just been honest he wouldn't have got them killed. My mother was younger than my dad by quite a bit, thirty-two when she died. I was eighteen...Elena was just six." 

Bucky's eyes hardened but he said nothing, simply squeezing her hand, allowing her to continue. 

"I hate my father, for everything he is and for everything he's done but I still love him, even as he's serving life in prison because of me," she laughed bitterly, "he's all I have left " 

"Do you visit him, on the Raft?" Bucky questioned. 

"No" her voice broke. 

The small circles Bucky was tracing with his thumb on her hand kept her grounded. 

"I don't usually even talk about him, let alone talk to him" 

"Maybe one day" his eyes crinkled. 

"Somehow I doubt it" she admitted solemnly, "sometimes there's just too much to get past, you know? And even then I don't know if I'd want to'' 

She knew that he understood, grateful when he changed the subject, "Let's get going doll, there's one more place I want to show you"

Bucky helped her up from the chair before leading her out to the front where Beatka was gossiping no doubt with another older customer who was picking up take-out. 

"Beatka" he interrupted softly, "We've got to get going" 

"Ohhh! You'd better come back sooner next time James" she practically shrieked, swatting him sweetly, then turning to smile sincerely at Y/n, "And you too, anyone who makes my James this happy is always welcome here" 

"And that's our cue to leave..." Bucky mumbled under his breath. 

~ 

The crisp autumn air made Y/n shake as she and Bucky wound their way through the more residential streets of Brooklyn. Or maybe, her little shivers were because Bucky was holding her hand, gently tugging her in the right direction, his rough palm warm and big compared to hers. He seemed to have a lot on his mind as they walked so she allowed for a comfortable silence to sit between them. 

Eventually, they came to a stop in front of an old-fashioned pizza place. The restaurant had a white-trimmed storefront on the bottom and, by the looks of it, a large apartment on top. 

"We just had lunch Bucky" Y/n smiled easily, joking, "I don't know how much more I can eat after Beatka's cabbage ro—"

"My mother would've loved you" he interrupted. 

The words lingered between them and for a second even Bucky seemed surprised by what he'd said. But then his eyes softened, 

"I mean it" 

"What was she like?" 

"Amazing, truly, I couldn't have asked for a better mom," he let out a wet laugh, "She always made sure everyone was cared for but never did one thing for herself, of course. As the oldest, I always tried to do little things for her, you know? To show her that at least someone cared. My dad, George, was good to her but he could've been there more, been more affectionate or attentive, I suppose." 

"She sounds nice Bucky, really nice" She cringed at her own awkwardness. 

"This is my old house, the one I grew up in...Steve kept it all these years, even when he thought I was dead, preserving it like some kind of time capsule"

"Do you ever go in?" She questioned. 

"Sometimes...but not today doll" he hesitated before admitting, "I think I'd like to move back here though, one day" 

"You will" she affirmed, making a look of surprise pass his face. "What?" 

"Nothing, nothing..." his words tapered off awkwardly before he held her hand again, "You're just so sure of it" 

"Mm," she considered that for a second, "If you want to move back, you'll move back, simple as that, at least that's what I think" 

"Well, I might just have to believe you then" his smile was knowing. 

~ 

requested account tags: cjand10 identity2212 bucky-jbb-sunshine unaxv hnnhbananananana literaryavenger

#fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

[flowerandblood]

Don't make me laugh (Oneshot)

Brother, Lover, Son Alternative Universe

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • fem!reader ]

[ description: Aemond doesn't consider Borros Baratheon's eldest son or youngest daughter to be his friends, much less his adoptive siblings, yet somehow, whenever something happens, they torment him first. As if they couldn't leave him alone. Comedy and short scenes from Aemond's quiet life in Storm's End with Royce and Lady Baratheon. ]

[ warnings: none, maybe some angst + just cringe and giggling + Aemond being horny for his girl, I put reaction gifs with captions for each of the characters between the scenes just for your fun ]

This oneshot is an alternate reality from The Impossible Choice Series where, according to Aemond’s words in Chapter 49, he is sent to Storm’s End by his father when he is still just a child. It shows what would happen and how it would affect Aemond and Lady Baratheon, what his relationship with Borros, Royce and her other sisters would be like. This chapter stands apart from the main story and is a big, long “what if”. 

Brother, Lover, Son AU Masterlist

My other works: Main Masterlist

____

"Let's see how well you know me, little sister." Royce muttered, his younger sister shifting next to him in her chair, curious. Royce loved card games. Usually when Aemond was bored and just didn't feel like reading he would join them.

They would meet in Royce's commons, because it was the safest space where no one disturbed them.

Usually he didn't have to take part in the games themselves, he could just be an observer and commentator. This suited him because he didn't risk humiliation and didn't feel he was socialising with them.

Royce split the cards half between himself and his youngest sister and explained that they would be answering each other's questions written on the pieces of paper which were to test their knowledge of each other.

Aemond was nominated as the person to write down the results on the sheet and he accepted this role without much objection.

Royce pulled out the first card and grunted, leaning comfortably against the back of his chair, his sister plucked one grape and put it quickly in her mouth, their figures illuminated by the warm light of the fire burning beside them in the fireplace.

They agreed that whoever answered correctly first six questions would win.

"What's my favourite colour?" He asked, and she made big eyes and swallowed loudly what she had just eaten.

"…do you have a favourite colour? You don't even know it yourself!" She said frustrated seeing his confusion, he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"You don't have a favourite colour." She said with confidence, taking another grape into her mouth with a loud crunch.

Royce nodded at him that, in fact, that was probably the real answer, so he drew a single line next to her name.

This time it was she who took the card in her hand and swallowed loudly before beginning to read.

"What do I like to do most in my free time?" She read raising an eyebrow, looking at him with amusement.

"To annoy me. Next. You can write down a point for me." Said Royce pointing with his chin to his card. He smirked and drew a line next to his name.

"What, no, stop it, it's not fair!" She squealed heartbroken, lowering her hands in disapproval, he and Royce tried not to laugh.

"Be quiet. What time do I get up?" He asked lowly, and she snarled.

"Much too late. Next." She said with a smile of satisfaction, reaching for another card, Aemond nodded his head acknowledging that she was right and drew a line next to her name.

"Cross it out, it's not true! You two are hopeless. Well, never mind." He waved his hand acknowledging that he didn't have the strength to argue seeing their faces full of mockery.

"My favourite word or phrase." She read out loud and he mused, scratching his chin.

"Don't tell my father." He said and they both burst into laughter, looking at each other with amusement, she pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow, sighing heavily.

"You two are awful." She mumbled, offended.

"Yes, yes, very awful. Next. Are you writing this down or not?" He scolded him, and he reminded himself that he was supposed to be writing down the results, too involved in their exchange of words.

Royce sighed heavily, looking at the next card.

"What do I dislike most?"

His sister looked at him uncertainly and pressed her lips together, clearly having no idea herself what the answer to that question might be.

"Difficult words." She finally said with a mischievous grin on her face and giggled. Royce looked at him, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Did you hear that? She's insolent. Have you ever met such an ill-mannered young lady?" He asked with a sneer, Aemond shook his head, sighing, expressing his disapproval.

"No. I'm shocked to discover it myself."

______

Royce:

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

Knock knock.

He opened his eyes wondering what was going on and if he had misheard, night all around him. He figured it was just a dream, but flinched when someone knocked on his chamber door again.

"Brother. It's me. Please open." He heard her whisper and sighed heavily, thinking about what she wanted from him at this hour. He stood up and put his trousers on quickly, tucking his chemise into them and opened the door, looking at her with displeasure.

"Couldn't it have waited until morning?" He said lowly, impatiently, pretending he felt nothing at the sight of her in just her nightgown.

"It's about Royce. Quickly!"

They both stood in front of her brother, lying on the floor in the middle of the circular throne-like hall, babbling to himself, completely drunk, Aemond had never seen him like this before.

"What happened to him?" He asked quietly, crouching beside him, grabbing his arm, but he pulled away, mumbling something, curling up, apparently wanting to fall asleep in this place and position.

"He babbled something to the effect that he had just left for a while to go into town and someone must have added something to his wine. He woke up in the middle of a forest road with no money and so it's a miracle he somehow made it back." She whispered terrified and heartbroken. He sighed heavily, running his hand over his face.

"We have to get him out of here, father can't find out. I can't carry him alone!"

So they both made an attempt to drag his numb body up the stone stairs, putting his arms around their necks and embracing him, but his body seemed terribly heavy, his sudden, loud mumbling echoing throughout the fortress.

"Shut the fuck up! Imbecile." He growled low and she pressed her lips together, terrified, looking around and apparently praying in spirit that no one would hear them.

Somehow they managed to drag him into his chamber and throw him onto his bed, both of them panting loudly, all hot and sweaty.

Royce flopped onto his stomach and mumbled "I'm about to throw up" before flooding the entirety of his bedding with the contents of his stomach.

____

Royce:

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

"I am organising another hunt in two days' time. It's supposed to be beautiful weather, but it won't last long, a maximum of three days, beautiful stags have been seen near our forests recently, I'm told." Said Lord Borros between one bite of roast and the other, he, his youngest daughter and Royce only nodded, accepting his words with calmness, knowing that, as always, he would want to take them with him.

"I want to go too, Father!" Floris called out, he and Royce exchanging knowing, apprehensive glances between them.

"Then so do I." Said Cassandra, and he sighed heavily, taking a sip of wine from his cup, already knowing that he would be dying on this trip.

Since Cassandra and Floris were going to travel, Maris and Ellyn couldn't be worse, so they rode in the large carriages behind their horses, not yet knowing what awaited them.

"I feel sorry for you. You're not likely to get any rest." Said Royce, and he only threw him a cold, discouraged look that said it all.

"My prince, I think my necklace has unfastened. Would you please take a look at it?" Floris asked walking up to him as he sat with Royce under one of the trees, drinking wine from the clusters. She crouched with her back to him, exposing her neck.

He looked away from her, staring ahead and took a deep sip again, weary.

"No."

Floris threw him a hurt, discouraged look and stood up, walking away with a quick step, offended.

"You don't have the soul of a romantic, brother." Royce sighed disapprovingly, taking another sip of wine.

"You don't say." He growled, glancing at the entire group of women standing by the carriages, waiting for the tents to be set up. "This is a fucking nightmare."

Their youngest sister ran up to them, already changed into her hunting attire, crouching beside them.

"What are you talking about?" She asked lightly, and Royce patted him on the shoulder looking into her eyes.

"Our brother is going to die today. Or he's going to kill someone. He hasn't decided yet."

_____

Royce:

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

"I said already, no."

"Please, I beg you, just this once!" She mumbled, looking up at him with those big eyes, and he looked down at her impassively.

"No."

"Please, I'll pay you, I'll be your servant, please!" She whimpered running after him as he moved ahead down the corridor again, unwilling to let him alone, insisting he say something in Old Valryia's language.

He stopped, hearing her suggestion.

"You will bring me breakfast for a week, bowing and titling me properly." He said with a glint in his eye, and she pressed her lips together and swallowed loudly at her humiliation.

"Very well." She said softly and he furrowed his brow.

"Very well, what?" He asked impatiently, and she squirmed under her breath, unhappy, not liking to address him like that, driving him mad, calling him her brother all the time.

"Very well, my prince." She mumbled, and he smirked, looking at her with superiority.

"Ossēninna ao mēre tubis lo gaomā keligon jenigon nyke daor. (I will kill you one day if you don't stop annoying me)." He said lowly, and she blinked, tightening her lips, a blush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

"You just insulted me, didn't you?"

____

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

"Where did you learn to shoot a bow so well, my lady?" Asked Erryk Selmy, the younger son of Lord Selmy, a vassal of the Baratheon family, who had travel with him to Storm's End so that his father and Lord Borros could come to an agreement over some woodland to which another lord was also claiming.

Royce and Aemond noticed that Erric had found a great liking for their younger sister and was constantly following her, and by the fact that she followed them everywhere, they were condemned to his presence.

"My father taught me." She replied lightly, not seeing his solicitations and efforts as an attempt at flirtation, thinking he was just curious. "And you, do you only practice hand-to-hand combat or do you also shoot with a bow?"

She asked, looking back at him, the young Lord Selmy straightened up, clearly wanting to grow in her eyes, and grunted quietly.

"I shoot a bow, but not as well as you, my lady." He said warmly, and she blushed in embarrassment, not expecting such words, lowering her gaze.

Aemond rolled his eyes, turning back, unable to look at it.

"I'm gonna throw up." He grunted to Royce, and he chuckled low, scratching his chin.

"The boy's in love. What can you do. It must be those big eyes of hers." He said amused. He pressed his lips together impatiently and snorted.

"Lord Erric, wouldn't you like to face me? It's a shame to waste such an opportunity." He said with a smile that did not reach his eye as he walked over to the table on which all sorts of weapons were lined.

He reached for his favourite sword, light and handy, and turned it easily several times in his hand, glancing at the boy's terrified face.

He was shorter and certainly more inexperienced, looking at him with big eyes.

The youngest daughter of Lord Borros looked at him, frowning her eyebrows, her lips uttered silently the words he understood perfectly.

'Don't you dare.'

He grinned even wider, stepping closer to them.

"Come, do not be afraid. I won't hurt you." He said with amusement, a wide grin on his lips.

Lord Selmy approached the table with an uncertain step, swallowing loudly, not knowing what to do, Lady Baratheon looked at him furiously, gestured with her finger to the ground, her lips conveyed another message to him.

'Stop it.'

He smiled sweetly at her, leaning on the hilt of his sword as if it was the happiest day of his life.

He watched her lips form words again, her hands clenched into fists.

'I will kill you.'

_____

Royce:

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

"I understand that since I'm here, we're going to walk into town at night to have some good beer." Said Royce, patting him on the shoulder, on the exact same evening he, his betrothed and their family arrived in King's Landing to be with them at their upcoming nuptials.

"What?" He asked in disbelief, his betrothed hopping up in her chair, grabbing his arm with her hand.

"Yes, please! Do you remember the time we slipped out of Storm's End and got lost in the woods?" She asked amused, Royce laughed out loud at her memory, and he pressed his lips together.

"Unfortunately yes." He muttered lowly, turning his head away impatiently. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Royce sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

"Gods, why do you always have to whine so much? After all, if the three of us go out, at night, disguised, what's going to happen to us? I mean, surely we're not going out to do anything wrong? Yes or no?" He asked reaching out his hand in front of him, he felt his future wife's hand tighten on his.

"Please. Please, let's go as a threesome, there's no telling if we'll ever have this opportunity again." She said pleadingly, lifting his hand and placing a warm kiss on it.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and swallowed hard, struggling with himself not to throw himself at her not caring anymore that Royce was with them, he hadn't seen her in a week and was dying of desire.

He sighed heavily, tightening his lips.

"So be it."

He instructed them where to wait for him and they met at night in one of the underground passages he had found as a child, all three of them wearing long cloaks with hoods on their heads. He grasped his betrothed's hand and instructed her not to let him go for a moment, which she did eagerly, entwining their fingers.

He felt butterflies in his stomach and wondered if they left Royce for a while so he could fuck her in some dark side street would anything bad happen.

However, he decided that he couldn't be so irresponsible, after all, someone might see them.

They circled around the town simply looking around, with crowds of people all around them and lit bonfires, theatrical performances as well as food and drink stalls. Royce drank his longed-for beer, but said it wasn't as tasty as he had hoped and preferred wine.

At this point, Aemond was already starting to become slowly concerned that someone would notice their disappearance after all, and insisted that they had already returned to the keep, feeling that he was now responsible for them.

On their way back, Royce almost fell over some man lying on the ground who, at his kick, flopped to the side, his hood falling off his head, revealing his white hair.

"Oh fuck. Isn't that your brother?" Royce asked simultaneously horrified and amused, his betrothed looking at him concerned.

"Shall we help him?" She asked quietly, stroking the skin of his hand with her thumb.

"No." He muttered, turning away, dragging her behind him. "Let him lie there."

______

Royce:

Lady Baratheon:

Aemond:

_____

Okay, I had a blast writing this and I love that I was able to curate all the gifs for them from Michael Scott from The Office!! It was hilarious!!! I hope it will make you smile at least a little bit, we need it in the fandom, and I encourage you to read this series, because I love it and it's probably one of my favorites that I've written. 💐💐💐

____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond meme #aemond targaryen meme #aemond funny #aemond comedy #aemond fanfic comedy #hotd comedy #hotd meme #aemond memes #hotd memes #hotd funny #hotd fanfic comedy #ewan mitchell comedy #ewan mitchell meme #aemond targaryen angst #aemond angst #hotd angst #aemond fanfic #aemond fluff #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom #ewan mitchell fandom

[secretsandwriting]

Prologue

The Edutzal.

A species known for their ruthlessness and destruction. With an unimaginable amount of strength and power they were a species you didn't want the attention of, so why were there three of them spotted on Earth.

Preview -- Masterlist -- Next

"How much you wanna bet this so-called Justice League is panicking right now?" Alistair questioned from his spot in the kitchen. "I mean they have at least a few different species that would know of us Edutzal. Kryptonians, Martians, Tamaraneans and probably a few others I'm missing? I didn't pay much attention to the paperwork." He pulled another mug out of the box he was unpacking. "So who knows what stories they're spreading about us."

"Probably about Mhadaek the bearer of doomsday. After all, he holds the record for most planets destroyed at 239,592,826,625. I have never met another Edutzal who has understood why or how he destroyed that many planets in such a short time. Wasn't he averaging like 4 planets every day?" 

"Or Hwidia the dreaded Empress, she did take over 503,283,293 planets and make them follow her weird ass rules."

"I'll never get over how terrified people are of them, and yet those are the titles they gave them. Bearer of Doomsday? Cheesy as hell. The Dreaded Empress? Just sounds like a bitch." Sounds of agreement floated through the air while the three went back to unpacking.

"So did we ever decide how were going to stay here?" Ry asked. "I know we talked about laying low and only resurfacing if another Edutzal shows up but we also talked about claiming the earth and letting the citizens know we were basically taking over the earth. Did we ever fully decide which one we were going with?" 

"I mean it would be nice to not have to deal with any of that and just stay low, but then if anyone else tried to come claim or destroy the earth, the laws of Engoth state we would have to prove our ownership of the planet or fight it out but if we claim it all the inhabitants will know and then we'll have to deal with whatever the Justice League decides to try and do." You sighed as you put another book on the shelf. "Either way, both are a lot of work." 

"Well, it might just be easier to claim it now. Because then we can deal with the Justice League sooner and not have to worry about dealing with them while trying to prove our claim." Alistar shrugged, "it's not ideal but it might be the best option."

"True. Besides, if we go through it now, maybe we can get to the point where the Justice League trusts us enough to listen to us when we say, 'Don't fight them or you'll die!' and they'll back off onto a target they're capable of fighting. Actually they probably wouldn't listen to us, they're a bit too... Optimistic..?"

"You mean stupid?"

"I was trying to be nice."

"Well, we all seem to be leaning towards claiming the earth, so do we want to do it before or after we finish unpacking?"

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

"People of Earth." The Justice League staired in horror as their meeting was interrupted by the very subject of it. A hologram of three figures appeared in the room. Pitch black hair, black scleras, gray irises, white pupils. Black cracks seemed to be coming from their lips like their skin was broken porcelain, chips falling and revealing a black nothingness underneath "We are Edutzal from Engoth, a planet in a solar system quite far from here. A planet known for its danger and inability to all but the things already on it. Our people are known as The Destroyers due to our ability and willingness to reduce planets to nothing but stone and dust." 

The hologram flickered, showing previously destroyed planets. Some they had known about, others were new. Planets they had recently seen, heard of or been too now reduced to nothing. 

"The Edutzal have also been known to claim planets. Taking it as their own and turning the planet into their own kingdom until they grow tired of it. Creating rules and laws as they see fit... We have decided to claim Earth as our own." The male spoke this time and his words brought a new sense of fear.

"However, we have no desire to change everything," The other woman spoke. "We have resided on this earth for the past three months. Changes will be made but we will not be your rulers."

"In the next few weeks or months, we will be changing what we deem necessary. Once we are satisfied, you will not see much of us unless something else needs to be fixed. We will not be your dictators or your heroes. This first week we will be laying our claim for other Edutzal to see so they will not disturb the earth. This is all." The hologram flickered off.

The room was silent as all the Justice League processed what they had heard.

"What are the necessary changes?" Tim asked the silent room. No one had any answers.

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

The necessary changes? All things the Justice League didn't disagree on, except for Batman because people were killed and he didn't believe in killing.

All the changes brought a better quality of life to the world. It wasn't perfect and there were still problems but some of the biggest ones had been removed from the equation. There was even a note left in their headquarters telling them to keep up the good work and how to contact them if they saw another Edutzal or some other thing they couldn't beat.

It still left people wondering, was this really all they were going to do?

#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #jason todd smau #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #dc #dc social media au #dc smau #the destroyers #secretsandwriting smaus #fem reader

[candycandy00]

Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 5

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

“Hurry and check Terrian! He might still be alive!" you yelled to Anna as you dropped to your knees beside Vartan. He was still conscious, but curled into the fetal position, holding his stomach. Blood was pooling around him. You touched his shoulder, and he seemed to jerk slightly before he looked up at you.

"I believe my wound has reopened," he said calmly, his voice denying that he was in any pain whatsoever. But sweat rolled down his forehead as he struggled to sit up and he hissed a little as he moved his arms from his abdomen and looked down.

You helped him unbutton his jacket and slipped it off his shoulders. The bandages were still there, but they were now soaked with blood. "I have to get these off," you told him.

"Hey!" Anna cried from across the room, her voice frantic. "I found a pulse! He's still alive!"

You leapt to your feet and ran to where Anna was kneeling beside Terrian's body. Together the two of you rolled him over onto his back, getting his face out of the puddle of his own blood. His glasses fell off, and a large bruise was becoming visible on his left cheek. 

You figured one of the half-breeds must have punched him through the face with their full strength. Humans had died from less force, so Terrian was lucky to be alive.

You and Anna stood up and each grabbed one end of Terrian's body, lifting him onto the nearest cot. Anna looked desperately at you. "What do we do now? I've never treated a head injury before! Terrian always did it himself!"

You had your hands on your forehead. "I don't know! Does he have a concussion?!"

"How would I know? What if he has brain damage?! What if he's in a coma?!"

"Oh, God... I don't know what to do! I don't think there's another doctor in the whole city!"

Anna was crying again. "We can't just let him die! He's... he's all we have!"

Vartan climbed to his feet and limped over to the cot where Terrian laid motionlessly.

You were both surprised, and stepped back while he looked Terrian over. "I don't think the injury will cause permanent damage," he said.

"How do you know that?!” Anna practically screamed.

"We have been studying the human body for years. I have some basic medical knowledge."

"And you think he's going to be okay?" Anna asked, a little more calmly.

Vartan nodded. "I'm not certain, but he appears to only be unconscious. The position and color of the bruise indicate that his brain did not receive the majority of the impact. If I'm correct, he should regain consciousness soon."

"But all that blood..." you said, still staring at Terrian.

"Came from his mouth. Three of his teeth are gone," Vartan replied, pointing to Terrian's slightly gaped mouth.

Both you and Anna burst into tears, hugging each other and then laughing loudly. You were so relieved that you almost forgot Vartan was there, bleeding and on the verge of passing out. He was leaning against the wall and his hair, wet with blood and sweat, was hanging messily in his eyes. The two of you rushed to his side, allowing him to lean on you as you helped him to the back room, where the medical supplies were.

Once in the room, you sat him down on a stretcher and he carefully laid back, wincing with every move. You headed over to the counter to get alcohol and thread, when you caught Anna's eye. "Are you okay with this? Helping him?"

Anna gave you a meaningful look. "He saved us. If he hadn't gone against them, I don't even want to think about what would've happened. I hate half-breeds, but I owe him. Big time."

You nodded and then you both ran back to the stretcher to begin sewing Vartan's wound back up. It took you a little longer than it had when Terrian was helping the first time, and your work was a little more clumsy, but you managed to close the wound and stop the bleeding.

Amazingly, Vartan never screamed once, although he did occasionally grunt when the needle pierced his skin. By the time you were finished, he was exhausted and practically immobile while you bandaged him up. He fell asleep just as you looked up to tell him you were finished.

You turned out the lights and quietly left the room, returning to the main patient area to sit by Terrian's bed. You did your best to ignore the sight of the dead, scattered patients, splattered across the walls and floor. To keep yourselves distracted, you and Anna talked.

"Why did you come back?" You asked her.

Anna gave you a weak smile. "I couldn't leave you and Terrian here. I couldn't let you deal with that, not alone."

You looked down. "It must have been horrible for you, how close it came to... to what happened before."

Anna smiled very brightly then. "Yes, it was horrible at the time. But now that it's over, I'm really happy! I fought back! Look, I even have that bastard's blood under my nails where I scratched his face!"

You looked at her, surprised. "Yeah, you really did good!"

Anna laughed, then looked at you seriously. "Before, I was just a kid. I was thirteen. The minute they came in, they told me not to move a muscle. So I didn't. I was too terrified to even flinch, even when they killed my mom and brother. I didn’t even try to help them! And afterward, I felt so guilty. I kept asking myself why I didn't try to fight back. I know I couldn’t have stopped them, but I should have tried! And I promised myself, that if I was ever put in that position again, I'd fight with everything I have, even if it gets me killed. That's why I'm really proud of myself today!"

Even though she was smiling again, tears were forming in Anna's eyes. "I was so scared today, but I didn't run away! I fought back! I faced them! I... I made it right."

You stood up and wrapped your arms around Anna. You stroked your friend's hair as tears fell down your own face. "Yeah, you made it right, Anna."

Anna was crying hard again, and you held her tightly. "We're such crybabies today, aren't we?" Anna asked though her tears, laughing now.

You laughed too. "Yeah, we are.”

"Am I in heaven? I hear two angels talking.”

You both froze, then looked down at Terrian, who was looking up at you with half-open eyes. You both practically tackled him, encasing him in your arms. He laughed, then groaned. "Oh, my mouth hurts," he said, sitting up.

"One of the half-breeds knocked out a few teeth," Anna told him, sitting on the bed beside him.

Terrian groaned again, this time louder. Then he looked both you and Anna up and down. “You're both alright? What happened?"

You and Anna looked at each other for a moment, then you sat down on the cot across from Terrian's. "We came back in to help you, but the half-breeds over-powered us. They were about to kill us when Vartan came in and convinced them to let us go."

Terrian's eyes became large and wet. "You mean you almost died while trying to save me?"

The two of you nodded.

He suddenly stood up and pulled you both into his arms. "I knew it," he said, his voice cracking. "The moment I met you two, I knew you were good girls!"

You and Anna blushed a little, but smiled and laughed as Terrian cried. The family was back together. You were all alive and healthy, and that's all that mattered.

Terrian suddenly stepped back. "Wait, you said Vartan saved us? Where is he now?"

"He's in the back room, asleep," Anna said.

"Asleep?"

"They punished him instead of us," you told him, "and his wound reopened. Anna and I stitched it back up, but I think he ended up passing out."

"I'd better go check him," Terrian said, walking past them. You followed him into the back room and turned the lights on. To your shock, the stretcher Vartan had been lying on was empty, only a crumpled sheet remaining. The back door was open, and the crisp night air drifted in, sending shivers down your back.

The three of you discussed Vartan, explaining to Terrian what had happened to him but leaving out the more embarrassing details of what had occurred while he was knocked out. Neither you nor Anna wanted to worry Terrian any more than you already had.

You spent the rest of the evening cleaning up the bodies in the main patient room. You were appalled by the bloodshed, but Terrian was an absolute wreck. He loved his patients so dearly, far more so than you or Anna could comprehend. You often thought he viewed each and every patient as his own child, no matter their age. It was he who often stayed at the clinic over night, feeding the elderly soup or reading stories to the children. It was he who constantly talked to them, got to know them on a personal level. And it was he who now stood in the center of the room with tears streaming down his face as you and Anna hurried to wrap the bodies with sheets and carry them to one corner of the room.

Terrian had taken the news that the clinic had been shut down very badly. He didn't say anything, but you could tell he was deeply upset. After you moved the last body to the corner, he told you he wanted to burn the clinic. 

"But why? They just told us we can't take any more patients in," Anna said. "We don't have to destroy it! We have so many memories here!"

Terrian looked at her sadly. "I know, but it's not the place that made the memories, it's the people. The clinic serves no purpose if we can't help anyone. And besides," he said, glancing at the bodies in the corner for the first time, "we have to give them a proper funeral."

"Funeral?" you asked.

"We can't burry them all. There's not enough land for that and it would take way too long. So we should burn them."

You and Anna were quiet for a moment, then both of you finally agreed. The three of you cleaned out the back room, boxing up all of the supplies and anything that could possibly be useful later. Once it was all done, Terrian poured out a bottle of alcohol onto a sheet in the middle of the main patient room and lit it on fire with a match. You exited the clinic and stood with Anna and Terrian outside on the street, watching it burn.

Terrian turned to you and Anna. "I'll be expecting you at my house starting tomorrow. For your new jobs."

"What new jobs?" Anna asked.

Terrian grinned at her, the first time he had done so in the past few hours. "You're my new maids!"

You and Anna smiled to each other. "We'll be there, Doctor."

You parted ways once again, the last time the three of you would ever do so on that particular street, in front of that particular building. It was still burning furiously as you walked toward your apartment. It was later than usual, and the streets were fairly quiet. At least the blazing building behind you provided plenty of light, though the half-breeds would show up soon enough to put out the fire. 

You wondered about Vartan, why he had left without saying anything and where he had went and why he had really helped you. But most of all, you wondered if you would ever see him again. All but one of your meetings had taken place at the clinic, and it was where he knew to find you. Even if by chance you saw him on the street, he would no doubt be with other half-breeds and you wouldn't dare approach, no matter what had happened between you. 

You shook your head as you unlocked your door. Why did it even matter if you would see him again? He was a half-breed. He was a monster, regardless of what had happened. The female half-breed was probably right, he probably just wanted to have his way with you and then toss you aside. That's what half-breeds did.

You opened the door and stepped inside. You reached back with your right hand to shut the door behind you, but someone grabbed your wrist. You jerked yourself around to see who was there, and found yourself face to face with Vartan. His jacket was still unbuttoned from earlier, leaving his chest and bandaged abdomen exposed. His grip on your wrist was firm, but not tight or painful. He seemed tired, weak.

He looked you in the eyes and said flatly "I'm coming in."

Tag List:

@scrumptiouslampwobblercop

#alien x reader #alien x human #alien x you #original x reader #original fiction #x reader #x reader stories #scifi x reader

[straykidsnerd255]

Billy’s Girl

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff (Tooth rotting Fluff)

Song(s): Jesse’s Girl- Rick Springfield, Uptown Girl- Billy Joel

Warnings: None! Extremely fluffy

Word Count: 1660

A/n: I needed something fluffy because all I can find with this man is smut. I just want to cuddle, is that to much to ask?!

Billy couldn’t remember what he had done in his past life to have you, a literal angel at his side. You smiled and waved to everyone that passed. You helped everyone that needed the help. You were willing to work longer shifts at work when one of your coworkers called out. You never smoked, never drank, was always there for Billy when his father left marks and wounds on his face. You took Max in like she was your sister to begin with. He loved watching you as you instinctively intertwined your fingers with his. How you would always kiss him goodbye before he left to go back home. How you would give him a good morning kiss when he came to pick you up for school the next morning.

He would get extremely jealous when he saw guys trying to ask you out when he was literally standing right next to you. He would glare at the male that tried to ask you out. However, you would always decline and tell them that Billy was your man and your only man. Billy was all grins the rest of the day. He didn’t realize that you didn’t care if people knew you were dating the bad boy trying to be good. After the mess that occurred at Star court, Billy wanted nothing more than to fix his life up. He wanted to mend his relationship with his little sister Max and apologize for everything he had done to her.

“Billy? Hey Billy!” 

Billy turned and looked at you. “What’s going on hon? You zoned out while I was asking you something. You honestly looked like you were about to cry.” You whispered, pressing your hands to his face to make him look at you. He chuckled and leaned into your hands while pressing his hands to yours. “Sorry. I was just thinking about how you are way better than I am and should be dating someone else.” He answered honestly. Your eyes widened and you pulled your boyfriend closer to you. “Now why would I do that? You are the one for me Billy. You are broken, and I like broken. That means I can be the person that puts you back together and be the person to watch you grow and flourish when others leave you.” You whispered. 

Billy felt like he could cry. He never had someone show him this kind of love ever in his life. He knew he was broken and he believed that you would figure that out and leave him, yet here you are, hugging him as if he would disappear from your side at any given minute. You held him tightly, not wanting to let him go. Billy felt his chest tighten with how much you actually loved him. “Baby, you don’t get to leave me. I told you on day one that when we start dating it would take a miracle for me to let you go and stop loving you.” You said giggling when Billy smiled down at you. He laughed before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

You smiled into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. His arms snaked around your waist and held you close against his body. You loved everything about Billy. There was nothing about him that made you dislike him. If anything, all the scars that lined his torso and stomach made him that much stronger in your eyes. The way he fought the mind flayer and won. That was admirable. You knew you were nowhere near the amount of strength but Billy showed that strength to you. He showed you the things that you didn’t think that you could do, but ended up being able to do them. 

You never told Billy but, but he was your rock. He was somewhere you could go when you needed comfort or when you needed a shoulder to cry on. He was always there for you. Pulling back from the kiss when oxygen became a thing, you stared up at Billy. His sea blue eyes staring back at you with so much fondness in them that you thought he was going to burst into tears. 

Instead, the biggest, brightest smile appeared on his face. His arms moved from your waist to wrap about your body as he pulled you against his chest. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him as well. “I still wonder how I managed to get an angel as my girlfriend sometimes Y/n.” He said, looking down at you and smiling. You grinned up at him. “The same reason I got you.” You said burying your face in his chest. He chuckled and held you tightly against his chest. He began swaying you both side to side as the sun began to set. 

He had taken you out on a date to stargaze and currently, he is leaned up against the front of his car, with his arms wrapped around you and your chin pressed into his chest as you looked up at him while he looked down at you. You smiled up at him before standing on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. He grinned before leaning his head down and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and gentle but it held the amount of love the two had for each other.

As the sun began to disappear behind the mountains and the sky became dark, you turned around and leaned against Billy’s chest as the stars peaked out in the sky. The moon glowing in all its glory makes you smile. “I have one more surprise babe.” Billy said as he moved from where he was standing. You raised your eyebrows in confusion before turning back to the stars and smiling. Billy walked to the back of his car and pulled out the blankets and pillows he had Max help him out there. 

He walked around and his grin was so big he was sure his face was gonna hurt when he stopped smiling. “Want to spend the night under the stars?” He asked. You turned around and could make out his figure before he got closer. He was holding comfortable blankets and pillows in his hands and arms while smiling at you. You couldn’t help but grin. “I would love to, if it means, I get to cuddle with my man.” You said. Billy’s grin became soft as he handed off the bigger blanket and watched as you laid it out of the ground. He placed the pillows together on the blanket. You both took your shoes off and got on the blanket together. Billy covered you and him with another blanket and smiled when you curled your body against his. 

As the stars shone above you both, the silence between you two was comfortable. Before long, the two of you fell asleep and the sounds of nature lulled you to that sleep. You were using Billy as a pillow while his arms were wrapped tightly around you. Billy couldn’t remember a time when he had slept that good in his entire life. He opened his eyes at some point during the night and found you pressed as close as you could get to his side. Your head laying on his chest and your right hand gripping his shirt right above his heart. “I love you doll.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head before falling back asleep. 

“Do you think we should wake them up?”

“No. They need to sleep Dustin.”

“My brother especially does. This is the longest I think he has ever slept.”

“Do you think they will get angry if we just chill and wait for them to wake up?”

“Lucas, I’m pretty sure they would kill us.” 

“No, Y/n is the sweetest around us, I don’t think she will.”

“Billy is a different story.”

Billy opened his eyes to find the kids standing over them and he rolled his eyes but grinned nonetheless. “If you little shits don’t leave us alone, I will beat you all up.” He joked, causing the kids to scream in surprise. Billy laughed and looked at them. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you all, but, how did you get here anyway?” Billy asked. Will grinned. “Steve and Robin got us here. They said that you hadn’t come back last night and they brought us up here to see if you two were still here.” Mike answered. 

Billy rolled his eyes. “Y/n’s brother is straight up worried over nothing. I can protect her if needed and I know she is capable of swinging something hard against someone trying to hurt her. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” Billy said remembering the time Jason tried to scare you and you ended up punching the man in the face and throwing a text book at him. Billy had never laughed that hard in his life before. “Alright, we will let Steve know you both are fine and that he doesn’t need to worry anymore. Just make sure you don’t stay here much longer. Billy snorted but nodded his head. “Little rugrats.” he laughed before his eyes closed again and he curled his body against yours to find the warmth again.

He loved you to the end of time and was willing to throw hands with a god or demon if needed. Billy would protect you even if it was to the extent of his life. He loved you and didn’t want anything to happen to you. He grinned when you pressed closer to him and yawned. Yeah, he was willing to die for you. That much he knew and would keep that to himself, or he would be scolded by you. Y/n was Billy’s girl. And Billy was your boy. Everyone knew that and Billy was happy about that. You loved him and he loved you. That was enough.

#Billy Hargrove x Female reader #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #adorable #Billy redemption #Billy deserved better