#maybe had something going on with his mom

[kasagia]

Right Hand V

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: The Bene Gesserit has something... very interesting to show you—something that only makes you question your situation more. During this time, Feyd is also put to a great test. But how much can your relationship endure before you both come to the conclusion that maybe you're not meant to be together? Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART IV ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~

Dreams have a strange power. You can see your future and past in them. You can drift between dreamland and the real world and be semi-aware of your surroundings. You can create a new reality that is more tempting than your real life. Dreams can be either your sweet escape from reality or your dark oppressor.

For you, dreams were reminders of what had been, ghosts of the past, catching you in your most vulnerable state. But this time, you weren't dreaming about your past.

You were in Giedi Prime. You walked through familiar corridors, hiding from the Harkonnens' eyes. It was rare to meet anyone in these corridors. Most of them were dead ends with secret passages that were unknown to most of the inhabitants of Giedi Prime. That's why you were terribly surprised when suddenly someone pulled you by your cloak.

You freeze, startled, and turn slowly to face the small child. The kid looks like Harkonnen's child, but not quite. His skin is creamier than white, and white hair grows on his head in unruly curls. But what you recognised perfectly were the blue, bright irises that only one person could boast on Gieidi Prime.

"Mommy!" A boy around 5 years old runs up to you and hugs your legs as you look at him in shock and confusion. “Dad said he would take us on a trip! To Lankiveil! We will swim in a real lake! Can you imagine that?!” – he asks excitedly and holds out his hands to you. You automatically scoop him up into your arms and place him on your hip, trying to figure out what the hell is happening.

Someone's quick footsteps echo in the corridor. You look past the child and see one of the harpies approaching you. She breathed a sigh of relief and bowed to you when she saw the boy in your arms.

"You can't run away like that, my lord Na-Baron. The baron told us to look after you."

"I didn't run away. I quickly left to find my mom. Dad wanted to speak with her. Besides, it's not my fault that you're so slow." Both you and the woman next to you do everything in your power not to burst out laughing. You smile, burying your face in your "son's" hair. He was so damn similar to his father and you.

The boy jumps out of your arms and grabs your hand. He runs with you through familiar corridors and hidden passages, not caring if you can keep up with him.

This way, you are in the war room in just a few seconds. Feyd stands with his back to you, analysing something on the hologram of the planets in front of him. He doesn't even flinch when the secret passage closes behind you with a bang.

"Dad, I brought mom." Your boy announces proudly, leading you to Feyd. The man turns and runs his hand through your son's hair. The little one smiles, showing a series of night-black teeth... with small cavities. He looked so damn cute. Like a little version of his father...

"Good job, Feydor. At least you are able to find your mother in her shadows. Go, torment your uncle. I've heard that you promised Rabban a great fight after our lessons." Feyd says teasingly, wrapping his arm around your waist. You roll your eyes at his comment about shadows, but you can't help but watch his interactions with your son in fascination.

Feyd was rarely around children; on Giedi Prime, they were quite... not shown much. They were a temporary inconvenience rather than a source of pride, and the noblest and most important of the inhabitants rarely cared for their own descendants. The nannies and servants usually took care of them. That's why you observed with admiration how soft and tender he was towards the boy, who was a living mix of both of you.

"I did! I can't wait to use the voice on him. I love you, dad. I love you, mom." He hugs you and practically runs to the training room, looking forward to training with his uncle.

"Just don't humiliate your uncle too much! And remember to turn on your shield!" Feyd shouts after him, and you feel like crying at the worried and caring look on his face. You've never seen him like this. Well, not when the two of you were in no danger. "In moments like these, I feel sorry for Rabban. He has to face a deadly mix of both of us. Devious beast, just like us. It doesn't matter that Rabban is not using all his strength against him; he would have defeated him anyway with his tactical mind and the tricks he learned from you. I need to start training with him so that he doesn't become too arrogant and self-confident after his numerous victories over Rabban. He must always be alert and ready for his opponent."

Honestly, you're not listening carefully to what he's saying. You are shocked by this new reality in which you find yourself. It was too surreal for you. But you couldn't stop your heart from fluttering as he spoke about his son with such tenderness and pride. Your son.

"What's wrong? You look pale. Are you two alright? You had unusual cravings again, and now you regret what you ate?" The concern in his eyes confuses you even more. He places his hand tenderly on your stomach and watches you carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort as you wonder what the hell happened to make him... like this. It must have been your imagination. This couldn't be any vision of your future, because even in your wildest dreams, you had never imagined it to be so... beautiful. "Y/N? Talk to me, my baroness. Should I call a healer?"

"I'm fine." You reply with a smile, shaking your head and placing your hand on his—the one that was still tenderly caressing your small pregnancy belly.

"You sure?" Your lips hurt from smiling as you try your hardest not to cry in front of him with emotion. So you grab him by the neck and pull him in for a kiss.

He caresses your lips so gently and tangles his hand so carefully in your hair that you feel like you're about to cry from the way this rare, soft side of him makes you feel that he so bravely shows you.

"Yes... we... we are perfect." You whisper, resting your forehead against his, not at all referring to yourself and the child. You close your eyes, letting yourself breathe in his scent as he draws patterns with his finger on your stomach, keeping his arm possessively around you.

You wrap your arms around him tightly and bury your face in his neck, holding him as close as you can. He laughs softly and presses a kiss on your temple.

"There you are... I almost forgot how sweetly clingy you are while carrying my heir under your heart. We should've tried for a sister for our Kwisatz Haderach a long time ago." He murmurs against your skin and lazily plays with your hair, massaging your head. "Are you sure you are feeling good? You have been very quiet. Usually, you would throw all sorts of insults and banter at me. It's not too late for you to swallow your pride and admit that you want to give birth on Arrakis or anywhere other than on this polluted planet. Damn what those old hags think of you; it won't make you any less of a Harkonnen."

Your heart swells with every word he says. It takes a lot of strength on your part not to cry in his arms and to keep your voice from shaking as you try to form a coherent sentence.

"I... just promise me you will never let me go." You ask him, not daring to even look at him because you're afraid you'll cry the moment his eyes meet yours.

"You stuck with us, my baroness. Nothing can separate us." He promises it to you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and tightening his hold on you. You felt safe. Warm. Loved.

"Good." You mumble, snuggling into him even more. You act as if this is really happening, like this is really supposed to be your life and future.

You have come to the conclusion that it is impossible and unrealistic for Feyd to change like this. The Harkonnens were not soft; they did not lead a tender family life and cared for their wives if they did take one. But in the end, it's your dream. So you sink into his arms, enjoying the sweet words he whispers in your ear and the way he strokes your hair.

Feyd had never been in such a hurry to get to his chambers. His heart was beating fast, and adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he thought about what had happened in those few hours. The baron is missing. He was kidnapped or killed by the Fremen. Feyd was to take his place until they found his uncle's body or the council officially declared him dead.

And Feyd had his suspicions about who could have contributed to the sudden disappearance of his beloved uncle. You couldn't have given him a better birthday present. In fact, you could, and he was practically running back to his chambers to pick it up.

He enters the chambers and immediately senses that it is too quiet there. He tries to dispel any suspicions and enters his bedroom, only to find the bed empty.

“Y/N?” He calls out, knocking on the table a few times to make his presence known. He peeks into the bathroom, slightly hoping that maybe you're waiting for him in the hot bath to tease him even more, but you weren't there either.

He frowns. He wonders if this isn't one of your games. Isn't that what you wanted—to play cat and mouse with him, to give him an exciting chase before he wins and can finally ravage you—but he quickly dismisses that (charming) idea. You were as desperate as he was. You wouldn't leave this room unless it was urgent. At least he hoped so.

He clenches his fists as he steps out into the main room of his chambers. The idea crosses his mind that maybe this time you actually ran away from him. He wouldn't be surprised. Maybe you finally snapped; maybe he scared you too much; maybe he went a step too far today by injecting you with truth serum and torturing your former lover/friend.

After all, you didn't say you loved him. You also didn't say that you despised him or that you wanted him to leave you. You could have escaped from him when the perfect opportunity presented itself…

"My lord, Na-Baron?" The frightened tone of one of the guards' voices brings Feyd out of his thoughts. He realises that he has gone out into the hall and is standing in the doorway, staring blankly at his two men. He clears his throat and turns his cold, calculating gaze on one of them.

"Have you seen my right hand?" They both shake their heads, not daring to look at him.

"No one left or entered these chambers except you, my na-baron." His madness grows as he unintentionally compares them to you. You always had the courage to face his anger and look at him, proudly bearing his burning gaze.

If you really run away from him... he will unleash hundreds of hounds, bring you back to him at all costs, and make sure you never leave his side again. He won't give a fuck if that's what you want. He gave you countless opportunities to leave him and end things between you two in a civilised way without brutality or bloodshed, but you didn't want it. The only thing stopping you two from being together were your stupid prejudices and fear. He planned to get rid of them completely once he got his hands on you again.

"Bring her to me." He growls at them, turning to go back to his chambers.

"But my lord..." Before the soldier can finish his sentence, Feyd reaches for his blade and cuts his throat with one skillful move. It eases the tension in his muscles a little, but the moment the man falls dead to the floor in front of him, his mood sours again. Because he remembers how, in moments like these, you often gave him a disapproving look and cleaned up the mess he made.

He growls at the other soldier, who is shaking with fear, to clean up and closes the door behind him with a loud bang. He had to find you. You got too deep under his skin for him to just forget about you. First, he had to determine whether you disappeared alone or whether someone had helped you. And God save him who dared to steal his baroness from under his nose.

He carefully examines his chambers, slowly exploring every corner. He frowns when he sees a familiar, polished dagger in his weapon collection. He picks it up and looks at it carefully. It was your blade. The one you had attached to your thigh. You had never left it—not since you got it from him for your birthday.

"Na-baron. You wanted to see me." You say, walking onto the balcony of his chambers. Feyd doesn't turn towards you. He stares at Giedi Prime spread out below him, the city completely shrouded in darkness. Only the few white stars that managed to penetrate the polluted atmosphere illuminated the planet with a pale glow. You quickly catch the hint and stand next to him, also looking at the buildings.

"I hate it here." He confesses to you without knowing why. "My home planet had seas, lakes, wild landscapes, and tundra that no one dared to tame. And here everything is so..."

"Controlled. Polluted. Defiled. Exploited. No room for anything... wild or natural." You finish for him. He nods, agreeing with your words.

It's been two years since you served him. And he had to admit that he didn't have such a good man on whom he could always count. You were extraordinary. Loyal, faithful, brave, honourable, and cunning. Feyd wanted to liberate you. Not many could live up to his expectations, but you seemed to know exactly what he wanted and needed after just one look. It aroused in him... strange feelings. Disturbing. But he didn't think about it when he was around you.

He preferred to admire your… difference. The hair that flowed slightly in the wind, the way your eyebrows knitted together in anger when someone questioned your position as his right-hand man, the way you walked, the way you could disappear into the shadows, the cunning and strength of your mind. You were an extraordinary woman. He started to appreciate you for the time you spent planning together. Nightly conversations about the nobility of Giedi Prime, your battle plans, and court intrigues became… something other than work for him. He was starting to like being close to you.

And at night, when he was with his concubines... he found himself imagining you in their place. And how much he wanted you... so much so lately that every little thing you did was the hottest, erotic act for him, even the way you moaned in appreciation when you ate good food. He was fucked up. Like a teenager in love.

But he didn't love you. He could not. His uncle had told him many times that the Harkonnens knew no love or affection. He just had to wait until this desire passed or find another right hand and make you his concubine, which was a much more difficult task. There were many pussies and holes he could have used, but you were the only one who seemed to have a mind even remotely like his. He couldn't afford to lose such a good strategist and soldier.

"Do you need anything, Na-Baron?" Your gentle question brings him out of his thoughts. He nods and goes to his chambers. He returns quickly with a black box in his hands. He hands it to you, carefully watching your reaction.

"Happy birthday, little witch." He says, not hiding a small smirk when he sees your shock. He managed to surprise you so rarely that he treated every such moment with reverence, as if it were the most important moment of his life. Pathetic. What power you had over him…

"How did you..."

"I have my ways too. Open it." He interrupts you, excited by your reaction to his gift. He puts his hands behind his back, feeling his fingers tremble slightly as they begin to sweat. He ignores it, completely focused on you as you gently untie the white bow and open the box. You hold your breath, staring at the dagger in awe. "Steel from my home planet. Don't stab yourself with it by accident. When it pierces someone's body, a piece of the blade dissolves under the heat of the attacker's blood. A small dose of this metal in the human body causes, in the worst case, a moribund state and death. We call it the shadow killer because death occurs hours after the attack unless an antidote is administered."

"I... I don't know what to say." You whisper, taking out the blade and running your fingertips over it. He looks at you with pride. He made it all by himself. For you. A detail he would take with him to his grave rather than admit to anyone.

"You can thank me. Didn't the Bene Gesserit teach you this?" He asks teasingly, making you roll your eyes at him. However, you give him such a beautiful smile that his black, rotten heart beats faster, letting him know about you for the first time in years.

"Thank you, Feyd." He melts when you say his name. You used it so infrequently that he had every little moment seared into his memory when you let your professionalism slip through and did it. And he loved the way his name sounded on your lips. He couldn't help but imagine what it would sound like when you shouted it, under much more pleasant circumstances.

"You know, we Harkonnens kiss each other on the lips as an expression of gratitude." He says this as your eyes move back to the dagger. He sees you freeze at the memory of it. You blush slightly, but enough for Feyd to notice the slight change. And he absolutely loves seeing you blushing and confused.

"I'm not a Harkonnen." You respond with a cheeky smile, and he shakes his head in amusement.

"But you are on our planet. I guess you should follow our rules and customs, right? Besides, in a few years, you'll be considered one of us."

"If I survive."

"I think you have a good chance." He smiles at your banter. The pride in his chest grows even more when, instead of looking at his black teeth in horror, you giggle, unfazed. You were so different…

However, he freezes when you take a step towards him. You cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him in for a kiss. He almost moans into your mouth like a total slut. It takes all of his willpower not to kiss you back, not to pull you closer, and not to actually taste your lips. But he can't. He won't show that he is that weak for you. So he keeps this fake kiss very professional. He is digging his nails into his palms until they bleed, as he is too afraid that he will accidentally reach for your body and pull you closer to him.

You pull away from him as suddenly as you place your lips on him. And he's both shocked and angry that your lips left his so quickly. His eyes wander to your lips as you lick them. Feyd curses himself for how badly he wants that pink tongue of yours to wrap around his own... or the hardening manhood in his pants.

"Thank you, Na-Baron Feyd Rautha." You whisper and head towards the exit, leaving him there, completely horny and wanting more of you—your touch, your kisses, your lips, your taste, your everything. He feels himself blushing at the thought of what he wants to do to you.

"Your welcome, my little witch." He mumbles as you disappear back into your shadows. He puts his bloody fingertips on his lips, tasting his blood. He closes his eyes, imagining how sweet you must taste...

Yeah... Feyd couldn't love you. A lie he had told himself since that night every time he felt his heart pound in his chest whenever he saw you.

"Brother… I mean... my Baron…" Rabban's voice reaches him vaguely as he continues to recall that day. Now he knew the taste of your lips... and your more intimate parts. And damn him if he doesn't put his fingers and tongue on you again.

"What?" He growls at him furiously, unsheathing his dagger and attaching yours to his body. The blade of the dagger was a bit uneven. And soft in his hands. It must have been used recently. And from the dried blood on the handle, he guessed that someone had clumsily tried to clean it. Someone took you from him.

He returns to the bedroom and grabs your shawl from the floor. He puts it to his nose and inhales your scent. He calms down a little—not enough for his fury to disappear, but enough to start thinking logically.

He was going to turn Arrakis into a living hell.

"The council has met. All high families. They are waiting for you."

Feyd would ignore it and go straight to find you, but your disgruntled face appears before his eyes. He would know that you would advise him to go to the council and present himself as best as possible—show his strength. He sighed, wrapping your shawl around his wrist as he made a decision.

"I see. Let's go." He announces this as he leaves the room and doesn't wait for Rabban to follow him. His brother runs after him, cursing under his breath as he tries to keep up with his fast pace. Feyd had a plan in his head and a clear goal. He'll have you in his arms at the end of the day, or he'll burn this damn planet down looking for you.

"And your witch?" Feyd suddenly stops. He turns his head slowly and looks at his brother, narrowing his eyes at him.

He shakes his head, knowing full well that you would castrate his brother before allowing him and his men to take you away. Rabban was too stupid for that and too afraid of him. If Feyd had to bet on who did it, he would choose the Bene Gesserit or Atreides with his Fremen.

"She won't be there. Order our men to close the airspace and monitor movements in the desert. Tell them to keep an eye on the Reverend Mothers and the Bene Gesserit. If they object to or question my decision, order to tell them that the baron is only trying to keep them safe. They are to report their every move to me. Once you've done that, join the meeting."

"Me?" He asks in shock, following obediently after him.

"You are my brother. We have to show that we are strong and that there are no divisions between us. Especially after my uncle is dead. They may think we are weak targets and want to get rid of us, just like we did with the Atreides. We must assert our dominance."

Rabban nods, looking at him warily. Feyd doesn't care what he looks like. They took you away from him. He'll do anything to get you back. It doesn't matter if he makes you seem mad or a worse psychopath than he already is.

Why does he need a reputation as a bloodthirsty beast if someone dared to get their hands on what's his anyway? People sentenced themselves to death and then dared to say that he was unpredictable. Pathetic idiots. He hoped you were giving them hell. His heart ached uncomfortably at the thought of someone hurting you while he had to deal with the nobility.

"Let's be honest. Baron Vladimir is dead. Paul Atreides is still at large, probably planning our murder, and the Fremen are rampaging in the desert, worshipping the false prophet. What are you going to do about it, Baron Feyd Rautha?" Feyd clenched his fists under the table. He slowly stopped being surprised that his uncle had become such a man.

After talking to the emperor for a moment, he felt like cutting out his tongue and gouging out the eyes of other high families staring at him. As if his role was to play their hero...

"We have already taken the first measures. It only takes a few bombs to extinguish the spirit of these desert rats. As for Paul Atreides... my people are looking for him. And my right hand went missing the night my uncle died. We suspect this is a related case. I'm going to head out into the desert and join the search. Of course, leaving members of high families in the care of my brother and some of our people. No one will leave Arrakis until the traitors are killed."

His calm, unruffled demeanour, and silent threat caused a slight stir in the room. Feyd suppressed a smirk. He loved controlling the crowd this way. However, he knew that impressing the emperor would be more difficult. Words were not enough to prove that the Harkonnens were a force they should be afraid of. And so far, his brother and uncle have only brought humiliation to their family. He had to fix it. Only with you by his side. That's why he had to leave this pointless meeting as soon as possible and start taking some action. His weapon craved blood.

"It wouldn't be the first time a concubine had gone missing." Princess Irulan comments. Feyd shifts his gaze to her, analysing her carefully. She was paler than usual, her posture more indifferent, as if she were trying hard to hide her true emotions behind her mask. Feyd made a note to look at her more closely.

"Probably not, Princess Irulan. However, in light of recent events—the Atreides attack, the death of my dear uncle, and the increased activity of the Fremen—I am certain that this is not a mere disappearance. This is a deliberate action. Attack on noble houses. Attack on the Harkonnens. And maybe I wouldn't be so concerned about my right hand being missing if it weren't for the baby." After his words, silence fell in the room. Feyd delights in the shocked look from the princess and the nobles in the room.

"The baby?"

"My heir she carries." Feyd nods, repeating his words to the emperor.

Feyd could barely contain his smirk, knowing full well how much you would like to see the faces of representatives of great houses now. To say they were shocked was an understatement. But what else was he supposed to say? That he goes looking for you with a thousand of his troops because he loves you and simply can't lose you? Only the thought of losing his heir was... a good reason to search all of Arrakis and close the airspace—any possibility of leaving the planet.

Because who would stop Harkonnen from desperately searching for the woman who carries his heir? Even a fool wouldn't dare. And if the Bene Gesserit were behind your kidnapping, they wouldn't dare do anything to you either after hearing that... surprising information. After all, they needed his offspring for their plans. Why would they destroy one? Feyd just hoped to get to you first before anyone discovered that you weren't pregnant at all.

"You horny dog! Why didn't you say anything?" Rabban pats him on the back, laughing hoarsely. It breaks the awkward silence in the room. But still, everyone's eyes are on him.

"We preferred to wait with any celebration until we were sure that the baby was growing healthily. After all, this could be our Kwisatz Hederach. Of course, now the safe return of my fiancée with our child is much more important. Therefore, I hope that the Emperor will consent to whatever… measures I intend to take in this matter. Whoever dared to raise a hand against the Harkonnens will pay the weight of their crimes in blood." Feyd continues his lies, knowing full well that you will kick his ass when you find out he called you his fiancée in front of great houses.

"But… I talked to the Baron…"

"My uncle... has not been in good health for a long time. May he rest in peace. Whatever arrangement he made with you, the emperor, during my reign it must be discussed again. Unfortunately, he will not rise from the grave and give us all the details."

"Of course… Baron Feyd-Rautha." The Emperor nods at him. Feyd takes the opportunity and decides to leave the room while he can. He nods to his brother, who turns out to be intelligent enough to understand the message and stands up as well.

"Excellent. If you don't mind, we'll leave now."

He doesn't wait for an answer. He just goes out, with Rabban close behind him. He orders him to prepare the army for the march and place spies around the fortress. They split up halfway to Feyd's rooms. He goes to prepare for his departure, hoping that Rabban will cope with the tasks he has entrusted to him. He missed you. He knew he wouldn't have to worry about anything if you were by his side.

He sighs as he enters his chambers. He stops in his tracks, seeing Princess Irulan next to his collection of weapons. He closes the door behind him with a bang, announcing his presence. The woman trembles and turns towards him.

"Baron."

"Princess." He responds coldly, looking at her carefully. He didn't say anything more. He wanted her to explain her sudden presence in his chambers. He notices, however, that his new title sounds nasty coming from her mouth, no matter how seductively she tries to say it. He imagines you whispering it in his ear as you ride him on his new throne on Giedi Prime...

"I thought you were leaving." He returns to the present moment, making sure he remembers to fulfil this fantasy once you both get back from this damn planet.

"I needed to change first." He replies and clears his throat, suggesting that she should leave. Unfortunately, she either doesn't want to or doesn't understand his hint and stays where she is, watching him carefully.

He feels like he's playing chess. One wrong move, and he loses a pawn. He hated this game until you started playing with him in the evenings, when you exchanged gossip from the court and your own comments. He doesn't remember how many times you fell asleep and he carried you to his bed. His harpies hated these evenings, and he too hated them at the beginning. Over time, he was just waiting for that moment when he was able to watch you snuggle into his pillow, sleeping peacefully.

"I… that's good. I was hoping to talk to you before you left."

"Talk then." He says this and starts taking off his clothes. He notices her blush and the way she looks away. But there's nothing sweet or funny about this gesture, unlike the way you do it. He changes into his usual tactical battle armour as fast as he can, still thinking about the way you used to even shout at him when he was going fully naked around you.

"I was shocked by this news. About the baby. And your fiancée."

"Why?"

"Well, you know very well, my lord, that the Bene Gesserit has planned to unite our families. This shouldn't have happened." He furrows his hairless eyebrows, feeling the anger start to boil within him again. How dare she tell him what he should do? Who should get pregnant, and who should not? He didn't care what the Bene Gesserit wanted. Feyd wanted you, and you probably wanted him. That was all that mattered.

"Would you rather be at my fiancée's place? Would you rather carry my baby instead of her?" He asks dangerously, approaching her slowly. Before she can react, he lunges forward and almost crushes her neck in his grip when he prevents her from using the voice. "You are trembling with fear, princess. It is pathetic that the Bene Gesserit even thought we could connect in any way. Even if we got married, I wouldn't lay a finger on you. At best, I would kill you right after I consolidated my power as emperor. Now that we both know where we stand... Tell me, where is my little witch?"

"The Reverend Mother sent her to Paul Atreides' hideout." She answers him obediently. Feyd smirks sadistically and maliciously as her eyes widen in shock when she realises he has used the voice on her. "How?" She managed to ask before Feyd tightened his grip on her throat again, giving her a bored look.

"With one of your witches by my side, do you think I won't do anything to learn your tricks? I'm not an idiot to let an opportunity like this pass me by. You think that I didn't also see you wince with every move at the meeting? This must have happened right after my fiancée stabbed you when you kidnapped her, right? The poison took effect, didn't it? Are you feeling weak? Do you feel how you slowly lose your vitality with each breath? It will get even worse. Maybe my fiancée will have the mercy to give you the antidote, but I have no intention of doing so. Now listen to me carefully. You won't say or write even a word to inform anyone about what happened. You will lock yourself in your room and endure the effects of the poison without complaining to anyone that something is wrong with you. Get out of my sight before I finish my beloved's work."

He throws her away like a rag doll, feeling defiled just by touching her neck. The only reason he kept her alive was because she was the emperor's daughter, and he couldn't afford to get rid of her YET. She runs away from him as soon as his grip on her neck is gone.

He smiles mockingly and leaves his chambers as well. Now that he knew you would be in the desert, he was going to dig up those damn sand folds and kill all the Fremen and Bene Gesserit who had a hand in your kidnapping.

And once you are by his side again, he will give you the heads of the princess, Corrino's Reverend Mother, and Atreides on a golden platter—an engagement present worthy of a real baroness. Well, he'll have to convince you to marry him first. He sighs, realising how much work is still ahead of him.

You wake up feeling numb. Entirely. There's a gag in your mouth, your hands are tied behind your back, and your ankles are cuffed together, completely preventing you from moving.

You look around your surroundings, realising that you are in one of the Fremen hideouts. A small room carved into the sandy rock resembles a prison cell. You gasp as you try to get off the floor. With a groan, you lean against the cold wall behind you as you somehow manage to sit up. You wonder how the hell you ended up here. And how can you escape when you are completely incapacitated?

Suddenly, the door to the room opens, and Corrino's Reverend Mother enters. You look at the woman with a calculating gaze, showing no emotion other than disgust.

"Y/N Y/L/N. We thought you were dead."

You roll your eyes at her. The old hag knew perfectly well that you had a gag. The fact that she expected any response from you was ridiculous.

"You betrayed your sisters. We should have killed you the moment you were recognised by one of us. You're lucky we're still keeping you alive."

You would snort if you didn't have a gag in your mouth. The Bene Gesserit knew no mercy; if they kept you alive, it was because they still needed you in their plans. After all, you were the strongest of them, which might not be visible now, but it was the truth. They didn't train you all your life and shape you into their ideal form of some sick Holly Mother, just to throw you away now.

You are tensing as the old woman walks up to you and painfully grabs your jaw. You glare at her furiously with your own, not showing an ounce of fear or remorse. What you wouldn't give to have at least a butter knife with you…

"Do you think you are smart, child? That you managed to escape fate? Not at all. Our visions may have been blurry, but now we see everything. Paul Atreides sees everything. After his plan succeeds, he becomes emperor, and you will become his concubine and the mother of the Kwisatz Hederach. Until then, we will keep you under control."

"Who allowed you to come in here?" A cold, commanding voice echoes throughout the small cell. The Reverend Mother steps away from you as if she's been burned by him, giving you the opportunity to look at Paul Atreides as she steps inside. You shiver as his cold gaze falls on you, but you show them nothing but disgust and anger. If you're going to die, at least you will make sure that before you do that, you'll be remembered by them as one big pain in the ass.

"I..."

"Silience!" Atreides yells at her as she feebly tries to explain herself to him. You frown, wondering how the hell he gained such power over the Bene Gesserit. "Leave us alone."

The woman nods obediently and leaves, closing the bars to your cell behind her. You shift your gaze to Atreides, examining him carefully. He was… more portly than you remembered him last time. He became stronger, tougher, and visibly hardened by the sands of Arrakis, since his posture was stiff as armour. You catch yourself thinking that if he stood in the arena in Giedi Prime, he would still lose to your na-baron.

"I am not here to hurt you, Y/N." Atreides says, walking over to you. He crouches down so that you are both at the same height. You look closely at the features of his face, analysing them carefully, trying to read what's behind the strange behaviour of the mysterious Fremen's prophet. "We both have our roles to play here. Something that is above us. I learned a lot about you.I know about your service to the Harkonnens, what you endured as a Bene Gesserit, and every darkest part of your past. And I know you are a wise and very strong woman. You probably understand why all this is so important and why we must fulfil the prophecy and take our places in this story." He says, removing your gag. You clear your throat as he finishes his speech, and, trying to hide your concern, you growl, your voice so hoarse and dripping with madness that Feyd would surely be proud of you:

"You are a mad freak. Feyd will kill you as soon as he finds you. And hell knows, he will come for me. It will be pure joy to fight him for the privilege of being the one who impales your head." Atreides gives you a small smile. He shakes his head, amused by what you're saying. He stands up, helping you to stand on your two feet as well, placing his hands on your waist respectfully, and touching you as little as necessary.

"Come with me. Let me show you something." He says this in an extremely calm voice as he removes the chain from around your ankles. You briefly consider kicking him and trying to escape, but you realise there's not much you can do with your hands tied. You are also still weak—too weak to maintain control over someone else for long with the voice. "Do not be afraid. I told you. I have no reason to hurt you." He encourages, concluding that your hesitation is out of fear and not a desire to attack him.

"I lived for years among the Harkonnens. I'm not afraid of anything except myself."

He gives you an ironic smirk, as if he were convinced that he was an evil worse than the Harkonnens. You don't care about his poor attempts to intimidate you. You weren't some desert rat to be terrified of a man with nice curls and eyes.

You walk through a series of corridors, and of course he leads you, holding your arm tightly and making sure you don't do anything stupid on this little trip around his kingdom. It brings you great satisfaction. Your reputation had obviously taken its toll if he continued to be vigilant around you while you were still half sedated and tied up without any weapons.

You smile sadistically at the Fremen you pass. They look away from you, too afraid to meet your gaze. You were known among them as the Na-Baron's bloodthirsty right-hand, whose cruelty rivalled that of many Harkonnens.

You and Atreides go deeper down. You slowly start to feel dizzy from the number of corridors, corners, and stairs he tells you to take, but eventually you reach a more spacious room. You sigh, feeling the humid air—a sweet change from the dry Arrakis wind. Atreides takes the torch and leads you deeper into the room. You gasp as you see a large pool full of water.

"The Fremen treat water as something sacred. They collect it from the bodies of their people; the water of the more deserving people goes to such pools."

"This is a waste. And stupid, considering that they are dying from a lack of water while having pools of it safely hidden from the Harkonnens." You notice, staring at the pool of water. You tense as you feel Paul's searching gaze on you. You turn your head and give him an intimidating look. He doesn't even flinch. He is unfazed as he continues to analyse you—something you don't like at all. You wish Feyd was here. He would gouge Atreides' eyes out the first time his gaze lingered on you for a second too long.

"Possible. But it's not the first time we waste something in the name of faith, right?"

"Faith befuddles and stupefies. Same as prophecies. We are responsible for our own fate. It doesn't matter what some crazy old man wrote in the books a hundred years ago, probably under the influence of drugs or other alcohol. No one influences our future except ourselves."

His silence at your words worries you. You turn your head to look at him. A small smirk spreads across his face—a sign that your words didn't outrage him as much as they were supposed to. He nods, agreeing with your words, and you realise what he really means. The son of a bitch was testing you. Logical, considering that he was the one who started the cult of him. He thought like you. He did not believe in any Kwisatz Hederach, and even if he did, he considered himself one. He just needed you to keep the propaganda and people's faith in him.

He wanted to show that he had tamed the Harkonnen's witch.

Atreides walks over to you and carefully places a hand on your shoulder, directing you to a different side of the room. You pass by a pool of water. In the centre, there is a large stone bowl on a platform.

"The Reverend Mothers call it the mirror of wisdom. It shows us our future if we continue on the path we are currently on. Look. See what awaits you with your crazy beast by your side."

"It's very brave of you to think that I'm not one." He chuckled at your words. He lets go of you and takes two steps back, keeping his amused, curious gaze on you.

"The Harkonnens are different from us. You may think you are one of them, that you have absorbed their ways and behaviours, but the truth is that you are not one of them at all. You may have adapted to survive among them, but can you look me in the eyes and tell me you don't long for something more... normal?"

"Normality is for the weak." You reply, huffing furiously. "Apart from that, my life has always been different from normal. This is my normality, Atreides."

"Even the bravest warrior needs a break, a moment of respite. Look. Aren't you curious?"

You were very damn curious. Especially after that strange dream/vision you had. So, without saying a word, you approach the bowl of water. You take a breath and dive your head into it, letting the images flood your mind.

This time you are not on Giedi Prime, and you are not a participant in the events. From a distance, you watch the older version of yourself adjust the crown on her head. Empress's crown.

You see yourself flinching in the mirror as the door to your chamber bursts open. Feyd, dressed as an emperor, walks in furiously, heading straight for you. He pushes the large mirror, smashing it against the wall with a roar.

However, you don't care about his sudden attack and watch him, unfazed, as he gasps with rage.

"Is something wrong, honey?" You ask in an almost too-sweet tone, mocking him.

"Do you have the nerve to ask me that? Why don't you tell me where my concubine is instead? Where did you send her? You gave the corpses to the harpies to eat? If any harm has come to her, I will make you eat all three of them before I tear out your cunning heart from your chest, witch."

"You'd have to touch me first. And we both know that lately you're more afraid of laying a finger on me than of our son dethroning you. Which is very surprising, by the way. Has that concubine of yours brainwashed you so much?" You see yourself smiling mockingly as you watch his anger grow with every word you say.

"Don't talk about her like that. Unlike you, she's not a cold, uncaring, selfish bitch."

"Of course not. A smart woman wouldn't willingly sleep with you." This completely breaks the remnants of his composure. He walks over to the older version of you and wraps his hand around her neck, pressing her against the wall.

But he doesn't do it the same way he does with you. It's not a gentle neck hold, a warning, or anything sexual—something that would turn you both on. He just cuts you off, choking you, watching with sick satisfaction as you squirm, trying to get out of his grasp.

"What's stopping me from ending your miserable life? You have already given me a son; your usefulness has long passed, and yet I still let you breathe the same air as me." He says this, tightening his grip on your neck. You gasp as he pushes you away.

From the way you fall to the floor and choke for air, you assume that the older version of you was only seconds away from suffocating. But you don't surrender to him; you don't give him any satisfaction in trying to intimidate you. You start laughing derisively, shaking your head in amusement as you slowly get up from the floor.

"Aw... you couldn't kill me. You're like a dog. You bark and do little. You love me too much to kill me, don't you remember? How did you beg me all those years ago for a piece of my feelings? Who said I love you first? Who was begging on his knees for my hand? Who wanted to have a child? You. You are just a desperate little boy looking for love and affection. You probably even liked the fact that I'm jealous of you and kill your lover? Unfortunately, I don't give a shit who you fuck. I didn't steal your whore, so get out and don't waste my time, husband." You mock him, waiting expectantly for his next move.

He stares at you with pure hatred and resentment. You feel the tension in the room begin to build; the immense anger and disgust between the two of you are palpable. You have no fucking idea how you came to be so hostile towards each other, but... you can't say you're surprised. Because if you were already imagining a future with Feyd... this was the scenario that came to your mind most often.

The two of you were too broken to trust each other and entrust each other with the remnants of the heart that beat and remained within you.

Feyd looks like he wants to say something. But he gives up and instead just leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

You swallow, observing your pathetic fate. The empress locked in a golden palace. At eternal war with everyone. Lonely. Your heart aches at the thought of this being your fate. This is what you were running from. Before relegating you solely to the vessel she was to carry and give to the world, Kwisatz Hederach, Because what would be the use of you then? You would be rejected and alone. Waiting to die. However, you didn't expect your end to look like THIS.

A figure emerges from the darkness of the room through a hidden passage—a man who is a copy of you and Feyd. You see a similarity in him, in your movements, in your creeping through the shadows. He approaches you from behind, holding a dagger similar to the one Feyd gave you on your birthday. You don't react when you feel steel around your neck, as if you had long ago come to terms with how you would die—and by whose hands.

"You were right, mother… I was destined to achieve much more."

And with that, he cuts your throat. Crimson blood runs down your dress, almost invisible against the black material. You die quickly. Quietly. Like a rat...

"Have you seen something interesting?" Atreides' voice reaches you as you step away from the bowl after the vision ends. You sigh heavily, breathing heavily. Drops of water roll down your face and soak into your linen shirt.

"Screw you." You snap at him, trying to wipe your face on the frame. He tears off a piece of his shavl and walks over to you. He wipes the water from your face and hair, not caring about the scowl you throw at him in warning.

"I told you. The future with Harkonnen cannot end well. But if you stay with me, I promise nothing will happen to you. You can be more free with me than you ever could with him."

And you're tempted as hell to accept his offer. You can't say you're not interested at all, that what you saw hasn't made you question your choices... but you've been a Harkonnen for so many years. Could you really forget all this so easily? Forget about Feyd? Maybe in that stupid Bene Gesserit's bowl you saw your tragic end at his side... but did it really have to end like this? You could avoid all this. Take a risk to gain something much better...

"So this is your offer? Freedom and security for lending my uterus for 9 months?" You ask him, wanting to know exactly what options and choices you have.

"In very simple terms, yes." He nods, still staring at you. You find this very irritating of him; you were usually the one who pierced other people with your gaze. Not the other way around.

"What for? You're telling these fools that you're their saviour and the messiah. Kwisatz Hederach, ahead of his time. Why do you need me?"

"I need the support of the Reverend Mothers of other families. I may have... your powers and be the strongest of them all, but I've learned that if you can gain someone's support in a peaceful way, it's better to try it before reaching for a weapon."

Atreides stared at you like you were a puzzle to solve. You didn't like the hidden arrogance in his eyes—the belief that he was truly capable of discovering all your secrets.

Maybe he knew your past, and maybe he saw visions of the future, possible scenarios of what might have happened after his decisions, but the present was yours. And only yours. You will be more than happy to show him that no one could tear out all your fangs and claws.

"Feyd will kill you sooner and bind me with tighter chains than you did, than he ever allowed such a turn of events." You say confidently, convinced that he won't just leave you. In this situation, it's a huge relief for you... but in your head, you can still see his sadistic smirk as he choked you against the wall.

"Not if I kill him." You tense up at his words, and your heart starts to beat faster as you process his words. You would never think that Feyd Rautha could ever die—not by another person's hand, of course. And certainly not Atreides.

He fought too well, was too intelligent and cunning to fail in battle, and yet... you couldn't deny that that one simple sentence Paul said with such confidence didn't send a cold shiver of fear down your spine or that you felt no threat.

"Have you ever seen him in the arena? Or how does he fight? You may have become stronger thanks to your time on Arrakis, but he was trained from childhood to be a small, psychopathic killer and ruthless warrior. You don't stand a chance, Atreides. You won't last a minute fighting him."

"Maybe not in an equal fight. But by trick? More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man."

"Are you talking about your father or maybe even your mother?" You ask mockingly, making his jaw tense and his hands clench into fists. You are very pleased with yourself that you finally managed to hit his sweet spot. Feyd would be proud of you.

"I'm talking about what will happen. Feyd Rautha will die. From my hands." The more he talks about it, the more your anger grows. However, you decide to stay calm and continue the little exchange between the two of you, trying to get something useful from him.

"Are you that sure about your visions? You don't hesitate for a moment, Atreides? It must be so boring knowing what's going to happen. Never having any element of surprise…"

"There are no more certain and clear visions than mine. Maybe you should also start believing in them?"

"Not as long as I have my brain." And my own visions. You add it in your mind, thinking about what you had dreamed about before you woke up in this hole.

"The rumors about you don't lie… Harkonnen's witch." He hums as he walks over to you. His hand reaches up to your cheek, using the pad of his thumb to gently wipe your cheek clean of the drop of water still left on it.

You shiver, staring into his eyes. His touch burns, but not in a nice, familiar way. And when you realise that the reason you're not attracted to him is because he doesn't have the familiar ice-blue irises, pale skin, and bald head, it scares you more than Atreides' sudden proximity to you.

"I'm glad I didn't disappoint you, Atreides." You whisper, moving away from him. You quickly lean in, wanting to bite, or preferably bite off, his finger that was caressing your skin, but he withdraws his hand and takes a step away from you. He laughs at your feeble attempt to harm him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but then the ground around you starts shaking. The sand rock crumbles, causing some of it to fall from the ceiling onto the ground. Atreides looks at you suspiciously.

"Didn't you see it in your visions? Maybe there's a sandworm crawling through your halls?" You ask mockingly, shrugging your shoulders.

"Stay here." He commands you using the voice. He doesn't spare you a second glance, simply heading for the exit. You look at him in disbelief and quickly follow him. The last thing you want is to get buried in one of these rats' corridors because one of them summoned a sandworm in the wrong way.

"I could be of much more use to you there than here." You say, as you are catching up with him, desperately trying to convince him.

"Not if these are Harkonnens!" He replies without looking back and slamming the door shut. You kick them in rage, looking around angrily at the large hall where he left you.

"That's the point…" You sigh, fed up with it all. You walk around the room, trying to find a way out, but even when you manage to find the side passages, you can't take a step beyond the threshold. You are forced to stay inside. "Fucking Atreides."

Instead of wandering aimlessly around the room, you decide to try and break the shackles that bind your hands. You try to smash them against the stalagmite, only to hit harder as the metal cuts into your wrists. After a while, when you have released all your anger, you somehow manage to free your hands. You rub your wrists, letting your blood soak into the sleeve of your linen shirt. You close your eyes and listen to the quiet sound of the water and the footsteps you hear from the upper floors. Something is happening...

Frustrated, you wander over to the pool filled with water. You crouch on the edge and dip your toes in the water. You watch the drops fall, wondering how many people have already given their lives. How many died at the hands of the Harkonnens? You wonder whether your water and blood will also join the ranks of their victims. It seems surreal to you now that Feyd could ever kill you or your own son... but how were you supposed to know what your future was supposed to be? Were you supposed to trust some strange visions or yourself?

While playing with water, you freeze when you suddenly see someone leaning over you. Before you can turn around, a hand covers your mouth, and another wraps around your waist, lifting you up. You scream and kick, trying to get out of someone's tight grip, but your attempts to break free are futile. You freeze when you hear a familiar, raspy voice whisper in your ear.

"Don't worry, it's me. It's just me. Shhh… You're safe. It's me." You relax a little in his arms. You reach your hand up to his and remove it from your mouth. He loosens his grip enough for you to turn in his arms.

"Feyd." You sigh when you see his face. You throw your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his neck. You rest your chin on his shoulder and breathe in his scent as you hold onto him tightly.

You hear him breathe a sigh of relief as well. He places a kiss on the top of your head and hugs you tighter. After a moment, he pulls away from you—not too far away, only a bit—so he can look at your face and see if you have any injuries.

"You're getting out of here. Our men are hidden in every corridor of this hole. Take a few of them and go to the exit. They will take you to the ship. Wait for me there." He gently cups your cheeks in his hands and forces you to look into his eyes. Your heart beats faster as you recognise that concerned look in his eyes from your dream, mixed with anger. "Y/N. I mean it. I know you want to fight; you're brave and a great warrior, but do it for me and just go to that damn ship."

"No. Wait, listen to me. I have to tell you something..."

"You'll tell me you love me later, now you have to get out of here, so I can destroy this place." He interrupts you, gently pushing you towards the exit. You feel anger and frustration building within you as yet another person tries to control you and tell you what to do. No matter how sweet and protective Feyd is acting now, you are fed up with constantly obeying everyone around you.

"Stop!" You shout at him, making him stop in his tracks in shock. Under any other circumstances, you would laugh at the surprised look he gives you, but not now. "Do you trust me?" You ask, looking at him expectantly. You know you're asking a lot of him right now, but if you're going to change your future, you have to act now. And fast. Very fast.

"Y/N this isn't the best…"

"Do you trust me?!" You interrupt him, raising your voice. He must see the desperation and seriousness in your eyes because you see him swallow, considering the question you've asked him. You unconsciously hold your breath, waiting for him to respond.

You both know this isn't an ordinary question. It means something more. Admitting something you both had been avoiding since the first day your blades met in a little skirmish that earned you his sympathy. He had long admired you for your mind, intelligence, ingenuity, cunning, and natural charm. But could he trust you completely?

"I… I do. If I trust anyone, it's you. Only you."

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You take a step towards him, cupping his cheek in your hand and kissing him. He tenses in surprise but kisses you back pretty quickly, moaning into your mouth as you express all the passion and desire you feel for him. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, wanting to feel your body against his to make sure this isn't some dream. You caress the skin of his neck, shuddering as an electric shiver runs through you as he deepens the kiss, taking everything you have to offer him.

Kissing Feyd always felt like it was the first kiss between the two of you. He kissed like he fought—with his whole being, not holding back, transmitting all his passion and desire. He didn't even know how much you needed to taste all of him right now. And how bittersweet that kiss was for you.

You reluctantly pull away from him and press your forehead against his. You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

"I love you, Feyd. I have always loved you. And I was very afraid of it, but I'm not anymore... I... I don't want to be scared of this anymore." You admit it as a single tear falls from your eyes. He reaches to wipe it off, but you shake your head. His hand freezes, hanging between you as he stares at you in shock, trying to process what you said.

Just as he's about to open his mouth, probably to tell you the same thing, you lean in and kiss him again. Slower, more gentle. A few tears escape you, allowing you both to taste them through the kiss.

You reach for the sword attached to his waist with trembling hands.

"I'm so sorry. But it's not our time yet." You whisper, moving away from him just as Paul Atreides returns to the room. He slowly walks towards you, his sword dripping with black Harkonnen blood. And you decide that if anyone spills blood in this room, it will be you. It must be you.

So when Paul is about to approach you and stab Feyd in the back, you close your eyes and stab Feyd with his sword. You hear him let out a shaky breath as his black blood slowly seeps from the wound, staining your hands. You keep your other hand on his shoulder, supporting his weight as he slowly sinks to his knees in front of you. You try to ignore him, not look at him or in his eyes... you simply cannot. Instead, you stare at Atreides.

Paul is beyond shocked by your actions. He looks for a moment at Feyd's black sword, the tip sticking out of his back—proof of what you did. After a moment, his eyes meet yours. After a while, he approaches you, sheathes his sword, and smiles proudly.

"This will be the beginning of a wonderful alliance, Lady Y/N." He says this, offering you his hand, which you reach for. You shake them, glaring at each other, assessing each other's behaviour as a new agreement forms between you.

You smile, hiding your fear as best as you can and holding back tears when you see Feyd's unconscious body out of the corner of your eye. But you've come too far to change your mind. From now on, you decide your fate.

Only you.

To be continued...

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t 

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #house harkonnen #dune part 2 #oneshot #feyd supremacy #feyd smut #feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader #feyd imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #smut #dark romance #toxic behavior

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XII

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

<- Previous Chapter I

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Alright folks. This is Alastor point of view since his last chapter, it's 15K long. Beware: blood, killing animal, gore, drowing experience, torture, obession. I hope you'll enjoy what is going on inside our favorite deer's head.

“ You look tense, are you alright?” 

He repressed a sigh while turning his face toward his mother. He was reading a book about radio and how it worked. It didn’t seem complicated, it wasn’t complicated really but he knew he would have to put much more effort than others to be able to get a job that would satisfy him. People wouldn’t like a dark skinned man on the radio. 

“ I’m just reading.”

“ You’ve been reading the same book for weeks now. I should buy you another one.” his mother said as she took the book from his hands. He shook his head, taking his mother’s hand between his.

“ No need, mom. I was just thinking about what to buy you for Christmas.” 

“ Don’t you dare buy me something young man.” she tapped his nose with her finger, her face wearing a teasing smile. “ Let your mother spoil you before you become a grown man.”

He smiled at his mother with a soft expression. A grown man huh. What was the difference with how he was now ? Was she talking about his changing body? Or his morals? He watched her leave the room before signing. What was a grown man?

 He changed his clothes with his hunting outfit, put on his glasses and went to the woods. He walked quietly into the snow, stalking animals, or finding news areas. He watched as animals weren’t aware of his presence, he was the perfect hunter, almost like a divine punishment that couldn’t be stopped. He quite enjoyed the feeling, the thrill.. But hunting animals was getting boring.. He craved something more…more what? 

He thought about his father with a dark smile. He had so many scenarios inside his head,  how he would chase him, how he would trap him, he would make him feel the terror he had put on him and his mother for years. He had all the scenarios inside of his head but when it came to killing him, he didn’t know.  Maybe being a grown man was knowing how to kill someone? 

His thoughts drifted toward you. His special person, his safe space. You were stressing out because war was still going on and he was nearing the age where he would be taken to fight for his country. On one hand he didn’t want to go and leave you here, he didn’t think he could be sane knowing you were so far away from him but on the other hand, war meant killing, killing other humans, and that, that was interesting. 

He looked down on his pocket watch. It was something old, and that seemed to stop working each time he went into the woods. He rolled his eyes, this was so annoying. He walked back toward his home, as quietly as he arrived. He knew he was the most dangerous predator in these woods. Now, he needed to be the most dangerous predator in his own house.

He changed his outfit and went to your house with his mother. Your home has always been much warmer than his, and his mother would be smiling with your mom. He liked that image. Even with his father gone, his house was calm, not warm, because his mother and Alastor knew it was only a matter of time before the devil came back to his own house. He smiled at your mother when she opened the door and said you didn’t arrive yet. That’s okay, he’ll wait. He’ll always wait for you. 

After thirty minutes, there you were, opening the door with hot chocolate on your lips. How could you still drink that, he couldn’t understand you. You seemed in a hurry so what’s better than taking your attention from your quest?

“ Look who’s here~.” he smiled as you hugged him before kissing him on both cheeks. Your touch was something that grounded him, sometimes he would be so lost in thoughts he wouldn’t realize he zooned out for more than thirty minutes, sometimes even longer, but if you happened to touch him, he'd just come back, as easily as that.

“ Seems like someone drank hot chocolate but didn't bother wiping her mouth.” he wiped your bottom lips with his gloved hand. You flushed as he stared at your mouth, keeping his finger on your lips. He lightly pressed his finger against your lips, he almost wanted to nip it. Your lips looked… delicious. He looked at your eyes, the windows of your soul and couldn’t help but feel content. You had a glint in your eyes, a glint that would appear only in his presence. You looked at him like you were asking, begging for more… More of what? Please, do talk dear, tell him what you need, he’ll make it so you are fulfilled.

“ Oh my dear, you look starving.”

You gasped as you took a step back while Alastor was smirking at you, his arms folded behind his back. You stuck your tongue to him, like you used to, and he couldn’t help but grin. You were the same, the same little girl who would follow him everywhere. He smirked when he heard your mother’s remonstrance.

“ Yes, listen to your Mother. Keep your tongue inside your pretty mouth.” teased Alastor as he sat on the sofa with his usual mocking smile. “ Now my dear, do you have news to share with me?”

You began to talk about your school, what was happening there and of course you had to motion John. Truthfully, Alastor didn’t care about John’s interest in you, he really didn’t care, unless he was being dangerous. What he cared about was that you mentioned him. Which meant, he was important enough for you to notice him and bring him into your daily conversation.

“ Should I be alarmed ? It’s not the first time I heard this name ?” teased Alastor as he took off his glasses to clean them with a tissue from his chest pocket.

“ Which one? Alice? She wants to meet you…” you mumbled and tensed when you saw Alastor’s smile. Ohoh.. Now, that was interesting. Having another point of view about your associations would be a plus. He trusted you, but you were so naive, you couldn’t even see what you had to offer. How could he trust your word about people being nice to you without asking something in exchange.

“ Well, why didn't you say so! I would be delighted to meet the darling that blesses my sweet little friend with her presence when I’m not here!” he exclaimed as he stood up. You jumped off the sofa as you forced him to sit back down. 

“ No Alastor !”

“ Oh come on my dear, do you want to keep me all to yourself ? How bold.” he smiled as he watched you struggle to keep him sitting. If he just used some of his strength, it would be so easy to just stand up but he liked to see you try. How would you shut him up today? With a kiss on his cheek? A witty come back?

You sat on his lap.

He clenched his hand on the sofa, and inhaled deeply. What an odd reaction from his own body. He was used to your touch, some days his body couldn’t bear it but today it didn’t seem like it. He didn’t feel like your touch was burning him so it wasn’t a bad day. But your touch right now wasn’t as relaxing as usual. He stared at you, you were blushing. How cute. Were you feeling as conflicted as he felt ? He wanted to know. He needed to know what you were thinking.

“ What do you want for your birthday ?”

His body tensed for a second, staring straight at you, did you avoid what was happening? Oh well, he’ll let this one pass. He relaxed himself and laughed, tilting his head backward. He shook his head as he rolled his eyes. Every year you would ask him what he wanted for his birthday and each year he would give you the same answer.

“ Well, just like always. Celebrating with you and Mother. What could I ask for more?” he smiled at you but as you tried to stand up from his thighs, he grabbed your waist and pulled you near his face. He didn’t know what happened, his mouth talked before his own brain could think. “ Should we invite John?”

“ Who–? Wait, John? Why?” you frowned as you looked at his smile which was tense. He was grabbing your waist tighter now but you didn’t seem to dislike it.  You didn’t even flinch or wince in pain. Everything he gave you, you always took it nicely…

“ Wait… Are you jealous?” you smiled as his smile twitched,“ Yes, yes, you are. Haha !” you laughed, not mockingly, but happily, like you enjoyed the fact that he could be jealous. Him? Jealous? Don’t make him laugh, dear.

 He pinned you down on the sofa and began to tickle you. Your laughter was smooth music to his ears but then you began to gasp for air as your cheeks were flushed because of him. He felt a shiver run down his spine as you looked up at him with teary eyes and cheeks flushed. He kind of wanted you to talk in that state, what would you sound like? So he ordered you to say his three rules. He stared at your face as you opened your mouth.

“ You are the strongest here.” you gasped as you tried to wipe your tears that threatened to stream down your face but Alastor holded both of your wrists in one hand so you couldn’t hide from his observant eyes. Don’t hide from him. Don’t ever think about hiding yourself from him…

“ Rule number three.” 

“ I give up…” you breathed as you closed your eyes. You felt his head next to yours, his lips almost touching your ears.  You were so… enchanting. Did you put a spell on him, making him behave like a starved man that couldn’t help but seek your presence to be fulfilled ? What’s even worse, you were giving yourself to him. Were you aware of it? Each time you let him see your emotions, each time you let yourself be vulnerable with him, you were giving him such silenced praises. No one should feel safe with him. No one but you. But how he wished for you to tell him that. He wanted to hear those words from your mouth.

“ Give up yourself to me.” he whispered.

Your eyes opened suddenly, feeling your body being hot. You looked at Alastor who was above you. What did he say? Did he really say those words? He was so confused. That was new… He tilted his head as he watched your expression. You looked at him with..hope? Was that hope? Like you wished him to say those words again. But he wouldn’t, not now, he needed to understand what was going on inside of his own mind.

“ Are you okay, you look almost as red as Eamon ?” he laughed at you as he stood up, putting his glasses back on. You asked him to repeat himself which he did, still confused by his own behavior.  “ By the way dear, it seems like you have a letter.” he said as he held a letter to you, which made you beamed. Surefly it must have been from your father.

“ You still have no news from your father?” you asked after reading the letter.

“ No, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been killed for insubordination.” he said with detachment as he looked at his nails. He wished his father was still alive, dying like an honorable soldier didn’t fit him at all. You nodded before turning your head toward the entrance where you heard a knock. You stood up and went to open the door and froze.

“ Alice ?”

Alice huh? Wasn’t she the one who oh so desperately wanted to meet him? He stood up from the sofa and listened to the conversation, trying to find clues about Alice’s personality without having to interact with the lady.

“ Alice… A man came to your door with my bag and you are not worried ? How did he know where you lived ? Does that mean he followed us?” he heard you say. Huh… He walked into the home’s entrance and saw you tugging a woman into your house before going outside, trying to see if someone was following her. Sweet heavens, did you not care about your own safety? He jerked you back inside the house giving you a pissed smile.

“ Are you dumb? If there is a man who is following you, why would you show your face, confirming that you are living here.” he asked you coldly. You closed the door quickly. 

“ The man isn’t here for me, if he is here. He didn’t follow me, he followed her.” you pointed to Alice. “ You can understand that, I mean, look at her.” 

He turned his back at you to look at the newcomer.  He observed her, she was a blue eyed girl, with long blonde hair and she looked like the cherry kind of girl. There he looked at her, could he give you back his attention now? Oh, he almost forgot his manners. He took her hand in his gloved one and flashed her his usual smile.

“ Quite a pleasure to be meeting you, I’ve heard a lot of you. You seemed like a clever woman, I would have never guessed that you would walk down the street with a soon to be stalker at your feet, bringing this man to my dear friend’s door!” 

“ N-nice to be meeting you, sir. I’m.. I’m sorry..?” Alice stared at you, begging you with her eyes to do something. She was lucky you were behind him or he would have slaughtered her with words about how dumb she was to bring danger to your front door. 

But he was a gentleman.

“ No, no, No need to be sorry. It is not your fault, but the gentleman’s one. You both shouldn’t stay outside alone.”

“ Alastor, maybe we are overthinking. Maybe he was a nice gentleman–”

“ Oh my friend, hush.” he turned back to Alice, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. What did he tell you about your endearing naivety? “ What did he look like?”

He listened as the girl began to describe the man’s appearance. Tall, white man, black eyed, no pilosity.. Huh.. Everyone in New Orleans looked like that. But from what she told you before, it didn’t seem like a stalker. A stalker wouldn’t risk being seen…

“ Well, dear friends of mine, go into the living room, I'll go with some drinks.” you said, sounding upset to his ears. But right now he didn't have time for your emotion, your safety always came first.

“ No, no, I won’t bother you any longer. I’m going home.” 

“ I’ll accompany you.Stay here.”

He went to the kitchen, said to his mother that he was going to bring a lady back to her own home. He didn’t kiss you goodbye, why would he? He was going to come back as soon as the luggage was dropped. 

He walked while observing around him. If the stalker was for Alice, he would feel someone following him. He has an instinct that has been sharpened by his father’s constant presence. He knew where danger came from.

“ So.. You both are childhood friends?”

“ Well of course we are! Can’t you see the special bond that ties us together. Only a fool would deny such–”

“ Oh yes, yes, of course, I wouldn’t dare deny such a strong bond, but other boys, like a guy named John, would deny it. After all, some say, she has never been with another man than you so…” he looked at Alice, still smiling. Was she trying to work him up? 

“ Well, tell this… John fella, why would she need another man? Or even a woman? Our bond is too special for this stupid boy to understand.” he spat with a charming smile. Alice beamed as his answers. He didn’t like her. It was like she was observing him, hoping to find answers. 

Try again.

He let her at her front door steps and left quickly. It was beginning to be late and he didn’t want to kiss you goodbye if you were already asleep. He walked into your home and found your mother with a confused expression. Seemed like something happened and you were upset.

He frowned and went into your bedroom. He opened the door quietly and walked toward your lying form in your bed. He kneeled down and stroked your cheeks which were still wet from your tears.

Who made you cry?

Who dared make you cry?

“ Dear friend, why are you crying?”

You sat up immediately asking him why he was here, hiding yourself from him with your blanket. What a dumb question…

“ Well, I came to give you your kiss, dummy.” he approached his face toward you, staring at your eyes. “ But why are you crying? Is it because of the man?” his eyes went cold, his smile widened but there was no warmth. Did that man come here while he was taking your friend back home?  “ Did he come here? Did he touch you? Where?”

 You just stared at him as tears were falling down your cheeks. He wanted to slay something, someone. Each tear your eyes dropped would be a drop of blood out of the man’s body. 

“ This bastard was here? I fucking walked your little friend home so I could see if someone was lingering around here and that bastard had the nerve to come and–”

Then he couldn’t see you anymore, the blanket was covering his face. But then, he felt a pressure against his lips. He froze. Did you just… Did you..?

“ No.. I was just… afraid that you would leave me for Alice.” you whispered. He couldn’t see you and he knew that if you covered his face right now, it was because you didn’t want to talk about it at the moment. Well, he couldn't be mad at you. Since you introduced your game of covering someone's eyes and then telling a secret and the other had to keep his mouth shut about it, he did it to you plenty of times when you were being a little too curious.  “ She is a beautiful lady, and she is interesting, sweet… a perfect lady you would say.”

“ Don’t put words in my mouth dear.” You chuckled as he moved his hand blindly toward your cheek, wiping your tears away. Seemed like you stopped crying, great.  “ So, you thought she was going to take me away from you? How absurd. Nothing could tear me away from you, not even yourself.”

You really thought something could keep him away from you? How absurd. He waited for an answer for you but was confronted by a dead silence. Well…

“ Can I take off your blanket now?”

You laughed and uncovered his face, his warm smile was back,your laughter could calm him down so quickly… You really put a spell on him, didn’t you? He watched you as you fidgeted with your nightgown. Well, it seems like it was time for him to take his leave!

“ You look like an absolute mess my dear friend! I’ll let you rest and please, do get your beauty sleep unless you want to crack every mirror you shall see.” he laughed as you tried to hit him with a pillow. He kissed you on the forehead, giggling before leaving your bedroom. “ See you soon, doll~!”

He didn’t know why but he walked back home with his mother with a big smile on his lips.

—-

He wiped the blood from his face. Killing animals was getting easier and easier. He chuckled as he stared at his bloodied knife and the dead animal around him. Rabbit, doves, wild board. He laughed out loud, his head tilted back.

Yes, this thrill… This thrill ! 

“ Oh father, please stay alive. I’m preparing something worth living once, I’m preparing your Death.” he laughed maniacally in the forest with cadavers surrounding him. He turned his head toward the noise of a branch cracking, already raising his knife but stopped moving. 

A deer.

Was it the same deer he saved that made his father beat him?

“ Well, hello there. Am I disturbing you?” he smiled, tilting his head. He watched as the deer came closer and began to eat the rabbit's remains. Alastor’s eyes widened before chuckling. What kind of deer would eat meat? “ Aren’t you odd? Well, I guess we are the same..” He stared at his bloody hands and couldn’t help but think about you. What would you think right now? Nobody was forcing him to hunt. He was doing it himself, he was enjoying himself.. Would you still smile at him with the same smile? The same warmth in your eyes. He closed his eyes as he inhaled the blood scent. 

Would you understand him? Or would you run away from him ? 

Would you wait for him at home, preparing dinner while he comes back, dirty, bloody from his hunts. Would you embrace him, worrying about his health and not the animal's? Would you kiss his bloodied lips or put a blanket in front of it? Would you live in a lie with him or accept him fully… Would you open your eyes and stare at his soul and tell him you’ll stay by his side…

Oh odd for him to think like this. But he was thinking about you, so he wasn’t really surprised. He stood up and looked around, the deer wasn’t here anymore. He took some animals and brought them back home so his mother could cook them. His mother had a sad smile when she saw him enter their house, he wondered why. He quickly prepared a bath but just before getting into it he stared at himself in the mirror.

His scars were beginning to fade, for some of them. He chuckled before going into the bath.

He was so monstrous, inside and out.

He tilted his head back on the edge of the bathtub. He hummed a melody you used to sing when you were younger. It’s been a long time since he hadn't heard you sing, he should find a song to play so you could sing. He nodded before sinking into the water, smiling as the water began to redden from the blood he had on him.

Yes, he should go see you.

—-

“ I’ll be delighted!”

He smiled as you looked at him from the swing, confused. You just asked him about coming with you into Alice’s soirée for Chritmas’s Eve.  He was lying down, reading a book which he didn’t even remember the title of. 

“ Really? You would like to come?” you smiled as you let the swing go, walking toward him. He put his book down and looked up at you with his usual grin, he really was excited about it! 

“ Of course dear, going to a soirée with you holding on to my arm? How could I refuse? And I’m sure my Mother would be delighted to celebrate Christmas’s Eve with your mother, as long as we celebrate Christmas with them.” he sketched before sitting up. You laughed softly before tugging off leaves from his hair. He smiled and layed down on your thighs, taking his book back and began to read the same sentence he was trying to comprehend. I Love You. What does it mean ? What was the protagonist feeling right now? The description of his feelings seemed so light compared to what Alastor felt for you. He was obsessed with you and yet he didn’t feel like what was described in this book. 

He wanted you to see the monster inside of him. That side of him you haven’t met again. He wanted you to be able to make yourself bleed in front of him, like a fish in front of a shark, but never being afraid of him hurting you. You would look so beautiful drenched in blood…

“ Alastor, what are you going to wear?”

He snapped back in reality, answering you without missing a beat.

“ Why?”

“ Come on, I was just wondering… I don’t know what kind of dress would suit me, I have never been to a fancy soirée. I’m scared of being… underdressed. “ he almost scoffed at your words. You? Being afraid of being underdressed? Hah ! How stupidly adorable. You could be shining like the sun and he would still watch you until his eyes dry out. He tilted his head backward on your laps so he could stare into your gaze. You were beautiful, how unfair…

“ Red suits you.” he stared at you before you looked away. Were you cheek flushed? Cute… See, red suited you.

“ Well, thank you, does that mean that the only color that suits me is red and I look awful with any other color?” 

“ Oh I didn’t say that. I just want to see you in red.” he smiled in satisfaction as your smile grew bigger. You took his book off his hands, which he let you do, still looking at you. You put the book next to you, on the grass. 

“ Do you think you'll be able to keep up with me if we have to dance ?” you teased him, raising an eyebrow. His eyes widened before he roared with laughter, holding his belly. You were utterly humorous ! He had more endurance than you and he loved dancing. Being in control of the other person’s body was thrilling. They trusted him not to make them fall, they tried to match his footsteps… He stared at you with mirth in his eyes. Oh dear… 

“ Oh my dearest friend, if we happen to dance, trust me, I’ll make it so you wouldn’t be able to walk for some days.” he winked at you with a confident smile. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back. Maybe he should give you a reminder of his skills…

He took your hand and helped you standing up before walking you home. The road was frozen which made him suppress a few laughs as he saw some people slipping on the ice while you were busy looking at the shop’s vitrines. Were you still trying to find a birthday present for him? You should rather look where you were putting your feet… 

“ Hey, Alasto-”

Thought so.

You screamed as your foot slid on ice. You felt yourself falling before Alastor wrapped his arms around you and tugged your body against him before gracefully dancing around the freezed road. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened as he made you spin on the freezing floor, but you never fell, he was moving your body, like it was another part of him. You began to laugh happily. 

He couldn’t help but smile wider. Your laughter was something that could heal any illness in the world, he was sure of it. And yet, you were the one, making him feel things he couldn’t name. You must be a witch, making him fall for you without him trying to struggle. And even though you were the one putting a spell on him, you let him do what he wanted with your body. You closed your eyes as he controlled the pace of your dancing. What were you trying to do to him?

 He made you drop, your head almost touching the ground. You stared at him as he held you firmly, your breath coming in short puff. He was staring intensely at you with a satisfied smile, yes, this looked good on you.

“ No matter what, I’ll always catch you if you fall.”

As he walked you back home he hoped you understood his message. No matter how hard you fell, how low you fell, he would be there before you,lower than you waiting to catch you.

—-

He was at your place with his mother fussing around him. She wanted him to look perfect but wasn’t he always perfect? He knew how to keep appearance, so being dressed up was the easiest thing someone could ask him. He held the bouquet behind his back, he wondered if you would understand the meaning of the flowers. He asked the florist for hyacinth, white carnation and white chestnuts. He was excited though, he really couldn’t wait to see your dress. Did you choose a red dress? His suit was a darker shade of red but he hoped you both would match. 

“ Alastor, come closer, there she is !”

He walked toward the stairs and froze.

Oh.

You were breathtaking.

Your makeup was accentuating your traits. You looked devilishly divine. You were wearing red. Your legs made him want to sink his teeth into it. You wore heels making you the same height as him.  You kissed him softly on both cheeks making him gulp. He felt like he had no control over himself. You were like something he wasn’t worth touching and yet, you were offering yourself to him. How cruel of you.

“ Alastor, please say something…” you begged, looking down.

Oh no, his dearest shouldn’t look so down while looking so perfect. He grabbed your chin softly and raised your face toward his. 

“ I told you, red is our color.” he smirked before giving you the bouquet. You smiled brightly as you saw the flowers, you didn’t seem to understand the message but who cared when you were smiling like this? He couldn't tear his eyes from you, you were enchanting, ethereal…

“ You both are so beautiful, but leave right now before being late !” Marie said just after taking a picture of you. You took a long coat that hid your figure before leaving with your arm around Alastor’s one. 

“ I can’t wait to be there ! “ you said excitedly. Alastor was being careful of every man who could touch you in any way. He didn’t think he would be able to have a polite gentleman's conversation if that were to happen. He looked at your feet, you were walking nicely with those heels, you weren’t even slipping on the frozen road.

After a thirty minute walk, you both find yourself in front of a huge house.Well, he already knew Alice was a daddy’s girl so he really wasn’t surprised, unlike you, from your expression, you didn't expect Alice to be this loaded.

You knocked on the huge door and a butler opened the door, eyeing suspiciously but before you could even your mouth you saw Alice running toward you. She was wearing an outfit similar to yours but hers was white and blue. She looked boringly angelic. He almost scoffed, please, was she supposed to be some kind of boring angel?

“ You made it ! Come, come, come inside!” 

After introducing yourself to some of Alice’s guests, you walked toward a buffet. He already remembered every name, every contact he could make right now.

“ Well, what do you think of it so far?” you asked him with a tired smile. He took a drink and sniffed it before putting it back. “ What?”

“ Be careful, some of the brevage have alcohol,” he said before leaning against the wall.” but I’m not surprised. Your friend seems to be the type to always go big.  Being able to pull off this kind of soirée with a war going on? I’m almost impressed.” he said before straightening his tie.  Now, could the band he saw before entering, begin to play? He wanted to dance with you and show off your talents.

“ Alastor, is it you?”

Dang it.

He flashed the lady his most charming smile. She was the mayor’s daughter, Alyzée. So Alice was close with high society.. He began a conversation with her. He met her during a school event, he was playing the piano and she began to chat with him. She must be around her twenties and yet, she came to him. Perfect for him, she could be useful.

He looked at the band as they began to play songs. He almost flinched when the woman dragged him toward the dance floor. Well, he could afford to waste some dance with this woman before going back to you. The songs weren’t hard to keep up, so dancing with Alyzée was pleasant at most but he couldn't help but look to where you were.

He almost snapped Alyzée’s hand.

You were dancing with that John. Why was he here? He looked so underdressed, you weren’t going to dance with him once more would you? He spinned Alyzée, never letting you off his gaze. If that bastard were to throw you in the air…

He turned his face toward Alyzée as she began to talk about her father’s plan for New Orleans. Great, that would smooth his nerves. What did the man planned for the black community? He listened to her, still dancing. It wasn’t thrilling in the slightest but at least, he had some information on what was going on in the high sphere.

After some dances, another girl came to ask him for a dance. He gave her his usual smile and took her hand, thanking Alyzée for her information. Well, this new girl wasn’t useful in any way but she could be a distraction if she knew how to dance.

He snapped his head toward the scene as soon as your voice reached his ears. What were you doing on stage? You were astonishing. You held the crowd in the palm of your hand. You were controlling them with your voice, were you aware of that? You were a devil in disguise. Ooh, you were exquisite. 

He suppressed a sigh as the woman tried to take his attention back. He couldn’t be impolite here, there were too many risks at stake. He danced with her, hoping for some kind of divine power to put an end to this clown show. He almost smirked when he heard you singing with much more vigor, the beat getting faster. Oh, how he loved those kinds of songs. Unfortunately for him, it seemed like his dance partner couldn’t keep up with him.

He flinched when he felt someone touch him and turned around. 

There you were.

You grinned at him, singing before smoothly taking him away from the girl. You both were encircled by the crowd but he didn’t care. Alastor and you danced, never breaking eye contact. You kept the rhythm as fast as you could, every step was nailed, every spin. He would bring your back against his chest and then he would spin you so your face was inches away from each other. Your pupils were dilated, just like his, were you aware of that? And then Alastor lifted you in his arms before throwing you in the air.  Did you remember his promise to always catch? It seemed you did, because you already had your eyes closed before he lifted you in the air. 

You fell down in his arms, your head near the floor but never touching it. You felt his breath on your lips and you opened your eyes, staring right back into his gaze. He was sweating and so were you. You were holding his shoulder, breathing hard. You were both alone in your own world. 

Wasn’t living much more worth it when you were both together, dearest?

And just like that, the spell broke as the crowd cheered for you. You blinked and Alastor straightened you up with a genuine smile. You both went back to the buffet after you gave back the microphone to the singer.

“ Oh my Lord, you both were.. I don’t even have the words!” squealed Alice as she shook you by the shoulders. 

“It really was amazing.” John said as he clapped while you were drinking a glass of water. Of course, you punk.

“ That’s what happens when you let us do our things together, let that be a lesson folks.”  Alastor said as he put his arms around your shoulders.  You nudged him but couldn’t contain your laughter. You were having a great time and so was he now. He tugged you once more toward the dance floor, he promised you many dances after all.

After a while, he sat down with you at a table with some friend of Alice’s. He already knew where it was going to go. 

“ You’ve never kissed before? Hoho, you don’t know what you are missing.” said a lady to John who just blushed. The lady started at Alastor. “ And you, pretty boy? Have you ever kissed someone ?” 

“ Yes, I have.”

He smirked. You were his first kiss, and everyone should be envious of him for that. But what he didn’t understand was when the question was asked to you, you said you’ve never kissed anyone. At first, he thought you were ashamed of having kissed him but it wasn’t what was shown on your face. You looked… hurt. 

“ Well, why not remedy it tonight, just before Christmas ! John, was it, why don’t you kiss our adorable singer right here?” you flushed even more and Alastor felt anger swirling up inside of him? Could someone shut this harlot?

“ As if my dearest friend’s first kiss would be with such a boring fella, no offense my friend.” said Alastor sarcastly. Could they stop talking about you like you were some kind of prize? You must have been upset because you stood up and went into the garden behind the mansion. He stood up after a minute or so and joined you outside.

“ You are going to catch a cold.”

You turned your head toward Alastor as he took off his blazer, ready to hand it to you. You shook your head. Hha.. you were being a brat right now?

“ No, I needed… I need the cold air.” he hummed, well, he could have guessed.

“ Why did you lie ?”

“ Pardon?” you turned your body toward him as he took a step toward you.

“ About your first kiss.” he really needed that answer.

“ I didn’t lie, I’ve never kissed anyone. And unlike you, if I did, I would have told you but Mister Alastor doesn’t care to share such a secret with me, am I right?” you crossed your arms over your chest. He smiled at you mockingly. How could you be so stupid but so adorable at the same time? How?

“ Don’t you dare look at me like that, Alastor.”

“ You’ve always been endearingly stupid. My first kiss was with you, in your room, remember ?” he tilted his head as he took another step toward you. He saw your body relaxed and you began to explain how it wasn’t a real kiss because in books bla bla.. He rolled his eyes as you looked away, why did you care about books? Were they the one writing what was going on between the both of you. His hand found the back of your waist as he softly tugged you against him. Come on, don’t hide from him…

“ So, a first kiss must be with a special someone, right?” he waited for you to nod before raising your chin with his finger. “ Then, can I give you my real first kiss?” You stared at him with your eyes wide open, your cheeks flushed red. “ You are my most special person since childhood… For me, it’s only natural for you to have my first kiss.” he smiled at you, did you understand what he was trying to tell you?“ You don’t have to if you don’t want of course, but–”

“ I want to. You.. You are also my .. most special person…” he nodded with a soft genuine smile. That made his body relax. He smirked as he saw you closing your eyes. Oh no little lady, you hid yourself one or two many times tonight. You’ll let him watch your emotions.

“ Nu-uh, keep your eyes on me.” you opened your eyes, blushing furiously.

“ You are supposed to close your eyes when you are kissing someone !”

“ I don’t really care, this is our first kiss, we’ll do it how we want.” he smirked as he approached his face toward you. Your eyes were looking everywhere on his face while his gaze was focused on your eyes. You were nervous and excited. Did you feel this emptiness being fulfilled because of his presence like it was with yours? You did finish by closing your eyes as you kissed each other. How cute…

You kept your eyes closed as Alastor stepped back slightly , he could still feel your breath against his mouth. You opened your eyes and gave him a shy smile as he whispered.

“ So dear, have you ever kissed someone ?” you nodded. “ With whom?” Say it, say it, say it…

“ Alastor.”

“ How was it?”

“ Perfect.” you smiled at him as he grinned at you before covering your shoulder with his blaze. He could see your lipstick being less vivid than before. He must have some of your lipstick on his lips. He licked his lips.

“ Come on now, the soirée needs its stars !”

He went back inside, keeping his jacket on your shoulder. It would be a shame for you to get sick. He sat back down and easily went back to the conversation that was being carried on. They were talking about how they wished the enemy would just drop dead. He smirked, they didn’t know how to kill but they wished for other people's death either way. How hypocritical.

He felt your hands on his tights. He took your hand in his, caressing your skin before looking at you. You were pointing to his own lips and he couldn’t help but grin harder. Alice must have told you about your lipstick. He leaned toward you.

“ You already want another one?”

You threw yourself back against your chair as Alastor was laughing, throwing his head back. Everyone stopped talking and looked at the both of you, confused and curious. You took your glass, hiding your face behind it as they tried to coat you to tell them what had happened. Alastor couldn’t help but talk first, clearly wanting to tease you.

“ I just reminded my dearest friend that being gluttonous was bad,” he said with a cunning smile. Oh, you looked so pissed ! “ You might get addicted!”

“ Unlike you, I don't have food all over my mouth.” You closed one eye, staring at him with the other as you drank from your glass.“ and as you know my dear Alastor, since our younger age, you always were the glutton one.” you smirked. Oho, were you trying to shut him up? Cute attempt.

“ You know that when I like something, I can’t help but crave more until there is nothing left for others to share.”

He grinned as you almost spat your water. 1-0. He won this fair and square.

“ Ooh Alastor, you have such a way with words. What else can that mouth do?” said a woman. He turned his gaze toward her, his smile still present.

“ It bites.” 

Thank God, you wanted to go home. He shook some hands and waved at Alyzée before leaving with you. You were shaking, from the cold weather and, he supposed, from your heels. Well.. He kneeled and carried you in his arms and began walking toward your home.

“ You know you have lipstick on your lips?”

“ Well, yes.  Dear, when you kissed me I could see that your lipstick wasn’t as clean as before. And with Alice’s reaction, it just confirmed my thoughts.” he smiled teasingly at you. 

“ But… Why did you not wipe it?”

He shut his mouth. How could he explain that he wished to feel you longer on his lips. He wanted your taste on his tongue. He wanted to consume you like you were consuming his thoughts. He lost himself in his thoughts until you were in front of your doorstep.

“ I wanted to feel you a little longer.”

Seems like you understood he still wasn’t really sure about his feelings. You just held his hands between yours before opening the door, entering the silent house. He closed the door, watching around him, making sure there wasn't anything strange. 

After checking on his mother he went into your bedroom where you were already ready to fall asleep still dressed up. He dragged you toward the bathroom and sat you on the bathtub’s edge. You were whining that you were oh so tired but he didn’t care. You needed to go to bed completely clean. He began to wipe your lips as you accepted your fate.

“ Good girl.” he smirked at you with a mocking glint in his eyes.

And there it was. You bit his finger and he felt his body react. He felt a shiver going from the top of his hand until the end of his legs. He knew you didn’t like being called a good girl, most of the time he used those terms when he was easily manipulating someone. But you weren’t like other people.

You were his oh so precious special person…

He leaned toward you, making you lean back, keeping his finger between your teeth, until your back was at the bottom of the bathtub. He climbed above you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“ I recall being the one who said that I bite…” he looked at you calmly as you stared at him with angry eyes. Did you know how it made him feel that you accepted that situation so easily? His hands had killed animals, his hands were drenched in their blood and soon enough his father’s blood. Yet, here you were, staying comfortably underneath him, like he wasn’t the most dangerous man you have ever met.

Would you accept him ? This question was beginning to bring him closer to madness than he would admit. Would you dirty yourself with him? Would you drenched your hands in blood and then cup gently his head with a sweet smile.

Would you be a sinner for him? with him?

Then he felt cold water on him. You just turned on the shower.. He smirked, was that a sign? You would be the one washing up his sins? Or did it mean you would always want a cleaner version of himself, that you couldn’t accept his bloodied self? You both cleaned up before you asked for his help in your bedroom. Seemed like you couldn’t take off your dress by yourself.

He approached you and dragged the zip down. You thanked him but didn’t move when you felt his gaze on your back.He wondered how he was looking at you? Like a hunter? Like a friend? Like a man? You turned your head toward him with a curious expression. He was still looking at your back with a straining smile. “ I hope nobody will ever backstab you… Can I..?” he whispered as he held his hand toward your back. You nodded and closed your eyes when you felt his other hand covered your eyes. 

You were so compliant, never asking anything about his weird tendencies. He stared at your back, unharmed, unlike his. He traced the scars his father did on his back, but on yours. But unlike his fathers, his fingers were gentle against your skin. You weren’t flinching, afraid of him. You were even pressing yourself against his hands.  Would you still have done it if you knew his thoughts? His delirious thoughts about killing his father? Would you still let his dirty hands touch you?

“ Alastor..” you whispered and he hummed in response. “ Can I… Can I do the same..?”

…

Could you do the same..? He wished for it. He wanted you to see him, as he was. But tonight, he would be a coward.

“ If you keep your eyes closed.”

He took off his shirt and sat down on your bed, his back facing you. His body was tense, he knew you would keep your eyes closed but he felt like you could see right through him. That in any moment you would scream at him to leave you alone. That he was the same kind of monster as his father.

But this moment never came. Your hands were so gentle against his bruised skin, against his broken self. You asked him if he was okay multiple times, making sure he was still with you. How perfect could you be? He tried to keep himself from hugging you, letting you map his back with your hands.

“ You are beautiful, Alastor.”

“ You say that because you keep your eyes closed when you are with me.”

“ Then, let me open them.”

“...No, not yet.”

Please, let him believe you were accepting as he was right now. 

“ Alright.” you said softly. You didn’t ask, as always, letting him be ready to come to you. He didn’t deserve you and yet, he would destroy anyone that would try to keep you away from him. He flinched when he felt your lips against one of his scars. You began to apologize but he stopped you, you didn’t have to apologize. Never.

He moved, making you step back. He was now sitting in front of you, with his legs opened and you in between, on your knees. Your eyes were still closed, as instructed. He smiled, you didn’t break his trust, you never will, right?

“ Alastor.. Where..?”

“ I’m here, you are caged between my legs right now.” he said with a teasing smirk.

You scoffed at the choice of his words.

“ I’m caged ?” you teased him, tilting your head against his legs. 

“ With me.” he kissed you on your forehead.” Would you like that? Being caged with me?” he whispered almost desperately. 

“ Yes.”

Oh Lord.

He tugged you against his torso, embracing you as hard as he could. You didn’t hesitate, you would be ready to throw yourself to the flames with him. How could he not crave you? Maybe you would accept him, you’ll just need more time than he thought. He kissed your forehead before putting back his shirt. He went downstairs to prepare your hot chocolate. He grimaced as he smelt the scent. How could you drink this…

He walked quietly upstairs and gave you your drink which you happily drank.  You fell asleep almost immediately. He would almost be envious as he looked at your sleeping form before letting himself rest for an hour or two.

The next morning, everyone was giving their presents. He smiled when you gave him a watch. He didn’t know why, but he knew deep inside that this watch would keep working even in the woods or even through Hell itself.

—

Alastor was helping his mother clean the house. She hurted her hips so he was taking care of lifting the heavy boxes he found in the cave. His mother never wanted him to go there, sometimes he respected until this day. She was the one asking him to clean there and he was excited. What kind of secret would he find?

Nothing much but books and some animal’s skeletons. He sat on an old chair and leaned against a shelf a little too hard which made a book fall. He sighed as he took the book and stared at him. What was that… It looked like a journal, almost the same as the one he had in his bedroom since he could write. He opened it and began to read.

It was a Voodoo’s book. Explaining its origins and even more interesting, what could be done with it. Alastor couldn’t help but smile as he began to read spells about soul binding, trapping souls inside objects… What was needed, for each spell, were animal sacrifices to feed and beckon the spirits.  Was that why his mother would ask him to hunt, but sometimes, never cooking the animals? 

He smirked. If he could control or work with those spirits… He would be unstoppable. From what he read, it was in his blood but he’ll be the judge of that, if spirits were useful or not, if they existed or not. He shut the book. He needed more information, he needed to practice. He needed a place where he could learn without being bothered. He bit his lips, the cave must be his mother’s sacred place, it wouldn’t feel right to taint it with his dark goals. He held the book against his chest as he went to his bedroom quietly. 

He’ll find a place.

He sat on his bed and began to read the soul binding spells. He needed your blood and his, and an object that would bind us together, an object that had a powerful meaning for the both of you. He frowned as he looked at all the things he needed to own before making the spells. He laid on his bed. An object that binds you together. Why not his microphone from when he was younger? You both had fun with it, it wasn’t working anymore but still…

 His eyes settled on Eamon.

Perfect.

Eamon was the best material bond between the both of you. He smiled as he stroked the plushie’s fur. When you first gave it to him, the fawn had pure white fur, now it was mostly red because of him…

He put the fawn down. He needed to see you and maybe find a clue if you would accept his new interests. He knew voodoo was seen as a barbaric religion, but from what he read, it was just like any other one. He took his coat and asked his mother if she needed any more help which she declined. 

He walked toward your home but your mother told him you were having your period and this one was particularly painful. He blinked. Didn’t you have your period earlier this month? He remembered the first time you had your period he didn’t understand. You were bleeding but weren’t injured. He almost had a panic attack when you were shouting at him, telling him to leave you alone. You didn’t deserve this pain. When he asked his mother about it, she explained what menstruation was about. He really was impressed by women.

But if you were having your period, again, he wouldn’t bother you. He slid a chocolate bar under your bedroom’s door after you told him you were going to rest today. He could hear the lie in your voice but when you were on your period you would always lie by telling him you were feeling better, or that you weren’t hungry.

He decided to take a relaxing walk but after a while, he could feel someone was trying to follow him. Well, he couldn’t do what he wanted to do today… He went into a coffee shop, some boys from school came to him but he didn’t care about them, he was trying to find his mysterious stalker. He couldn’t feel any murderous aura in their stare but that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous.  

When he left the coffee shop, he waited in an alley and smirked when he found the person who had been following him all afternoon.

“ May I know why you are following me, my goodfella?”

He had a knife in his pocket, he really didn’t want to use it but maybe, in front of him, was your stalker. He needed more information but the person ran away. Alastor scoffed, the only person who could outrun him was you. He ran after the stalker but then realized.

He couldn't catch them.

Was he running after you? He biforked into another alley, running toward your home. If you weren’t in bed, that would mean that you were the one who had been following all afternoon. But why?

He entered your home by slamming the door, startling your mother but he kept running until he heard your voice in pain. He opened your door and there you were, in your bed sweating although the windows were wide open. He went to close it and stared at the tree near the opening. Did you use a tree to leave your room? He could see some dirt on the edge of your windows. So you were following him all afternoon…

“ Well my dear, I was chasing what I think could be your stalker.” you stared at him with wide eyes. “But what was worrisome was that when I chased them, they ran into your house’s direction. You haven’t seen anything suspicious my friend ?” he stared at you with his usual smile. You shook your head but he could see you were lying. He didn’t say anything, you were surely trying to find a present for his birthday. But why did you feel the need to lie to him? He kissed your forehead before leaving you alone, he didn’t like it when you were lying to him, no matter the subject.

He went back home and began to read the Voodoo’s book while taking notes in his journal. He didn’t know why but all the information about some rituals were sticking in his mind effortlessly. 

It was so interesting, he really hoped you would understand him.

—

He was talking with your mother, with some sweets he had made with his mom. He knew you always wanted chocolate when you were on your period, if you really were on your period right now, so he would just make some. Sometimes he would prank you by putting some spice in the chocolate and it was always a hilarious sight when you realized what he had done. 

Your mother had told him you went out with Alice and you should be back soon enough. He didn’t mind talking with your mother, she would tell him cute stories about you before you came settling in New Orleans. But as the stories were being told, he was getting more and more agitated. 

You were still outside with Alice as the weather was beginning to get more and more dangerous. He asked your mother if he could use the telephone which she agreed to. He called Alice’s house. Maybe you decided to sleep there because of the weather.

“ Yes, Alice speaking.”

“ Where is she?” he asked, he didn’t really cared for Alice, he needed to know you were okay.

“ Oh.. She.. She is with me of course, we were getting ready to sleep because of the weather!”

She was lying.

That meant that you weren’t with Alice. Where were you then?

“ Alice, if you cared about you pathetic life, you are going to tell me where my dearest friend is.” he spoke calmly, hiding his inner turmoils.

“ I… I can’t, she would hate me if I were to tell you…”

He was sure he was going to destroy the telephone from anger. He was sure it was about his birthday.

“ If it’s for my birthday, I know” he lied “ So where is she? The radio said there will be a snowstorm soon enough.”

Alice mumbled something before telling him the truth. You were in an unknown house, far from here, alone. He laughed nervously, asking for the address. Alice gave it to him and he hung up. He went to your mother, asking for your father’s car. She seemed surprised but when he said that you were alone in a house far from here, she gave him the key. If he was lucky, he would be able to arrive before the snowstorm hit.

He knew how to drive, he learned by himself in secret. He took the car and drove for about an hour , following Alice's instruction, until he saw a house. The snowstorm was already raging but he needed to see if you were okay. Didn’t you know there were crazy people who would break into a lady's house who was living alone?

He walked toward the house, trying to see something. Fortunately for him he arrived near the door, but slid because of the ice and slammed against the door. Dang it. He tried to open the door but it was locked. Good, you weren’t that naive yet. He stepped back and looked at the roof. He needed to be careful because with the snow and the wind, he could fall but he could manage to enter by the window.

He climbed easily and then broke the window with his foot before entering the room. He heard your scream and ran toward you, were you hurt, did someone was with you? He only had the time to see you running through a backdoor.

Damn it.

He couldn’t let you run away, you were faster than him, he would lose you easily. He shouted your name as he ran after you. He could only see your shadow getting farer and farer from him. He felt his chest hurt at the thought of losing you here. He screamed your name, desperately. Please, just hear him…

He stopped himself as he felt ice under his foot. It seemed like a frozen lake. 

“ Stay away !” you shouted, the wind carrying your voice to him. “ I’m not afraid of killing you !” 

You were there, he could hear you so if he screamed, you would hear him too. He tried to take a step on the frozen lake but he could hear the cracks getting louder. He couldn’t risk taking another step.

“Look at me!”

He felt his body relaxed as he saw your frame getting closer to him before you disappeared.

You just fell down the lake.

You fell down the lake.

You fell down the lake.

You fell down the lake.

You fell down the lake.

He didn’t wait any longer and punched the ice with his bare hands, trying to widen the hole. He jumped into the water, not even caring about the cold. He opened his eyes and there you were, sinking peacefully away from him. He swam toward you, tugged you against him before swimming toward the surface but he couldn’t find the hole he came from. He punched the ice, trying to break it once more. He punched it again, one time, two times, and then his hand traversed the ice, breaking his skin. He was feeling his body trying to force him to open his mouth to catch some air.

Not yet.

He smashed the ice with his fists and lifted you out of the water, he didn’t care if he didn’t have air yet, he needed you to be safe first. He pushed you out of the water before getting his head out of it. He gasped as he grasped the edge of the ice, cutting himself once more. He lifted himself off the water and immediately went toward you.

“ No, no, open your eyes. Look at me!” He shook your shoulder but you stayed silent. He put his head against your chest. Your heart was still beating. He forced you to breathe by performing mouth to mouth. He looked at you as you coughed the water that was in your lungs. Now you need to get somewhere warm. He carried you and ran toward the cottage and thanks to some kind of miracle, he managed to find his way back through the snowstorm. He lit up the fire in the chimney and ran in the house, taking every blanket he could find. He undressed you until you were left in your undergarments. He put the blankets around you, he didn’t care about himself, your safety was his priority. 

He talked to you, begging you to open your eyes for thirty minutes. He kissed your lips, praying that you would just wake up. He looked at you as you pushed him, coughing. He closed his eyes, he was relieved but then anger began taking place in his body. You almost died tonight. You almost ran away from him, somewhere he couldn’t follow.

 “ What are you doing here..?”

“ Is that the first question you want to ask me ?” His voice was cold, his face was stoic, his usual smile non-existent. He was shaking with anger and fear. “ What were you thinking going out in a bloody snowstorm? Have you lost your mind ?” he stood up, raising his voice at you.

He didn’t understand why, but you were angry too. 

“ I was doing great before you came along! Why are you here?”

“ There is a bloody stalker after you and you decide to stay alone in a deserted area ? Tell me dear, are you trying to impress me with your stupidity because you succeeded.Congratulations.” he said mockingly as he sat on the sofa, trying to dry his hair with a towel, now that you were okay he needed to warm his body and the first step was drying his hair.

“ I was preparing your birthday, it was supposed to be a surprise !”

“ My birthday’s not worthwhile if you are not by my side!” he shouted, throwing the towel on the floor, his eyes shining with fury. He came to you and tugged you closer by grabbing the necklace he had given you on Christmas. “ What a charming surprise it would have been, finding your dead body in the snow ! Celebrating my birthday would mean celebrating your death? Oh, you really are spoiling me, my friend. You really are taking the cake!” he spat as he stared at you.  What were you thinking for heaven’s sake!

“ Don’t shout at me !”

“ Don’t play with your life then!” He took the knife you brought with you before running away from his wet pants.” What did you think you could have done with that? Would you stab a man my dear, tell me, would you do it?” he taunted you, mocked you, moving the knife in front of your eyes. “ Do you know how to kill, my dearest?” his voice was low, menacing, he wanted you to speak to him. Stop with the lies; speak what’s on your mind.

And then you cried while telling you would have stabbed someone, you would have killed someone so you could live longer with him. He hugged you as he felt his heart beat faster. Were you like him?  Maybe it was the perfect time for him to come clean…

After explaining what had happened he took off his shirt, and your eyes immediately fell upon his scars. You came toward him without hesitating, you always came to him no matter his state.. You were his… his everything. He wanted you to know that.

He softly took your hand in his and with a soft sigh, kissed the back of it. He kissed the back of your hand, once, twice.. before tugging you against him and kissing your lips avidly. He needed to feel you against him, you were alive, safely caged in his arms.

He laid you down on the floor as he kissed your neck, your cheeks, your lips. He couldn’t get enough of you. He felt like he was starving. You were panting, gripping his hair. Were you feeling like him? Like a starved monster? Did you feel the need to crawl inside him like he felt it with you? He wanted to molded into you. To become one with you.

After a few minutes, he stopped, panting against your chest. You were still gripping his hair. 

“ Don’t ever… Don’t ever do that again my dear…Don’t ever go somewhere I can’t find you...”

You hugged him, pressing his head against your warm chest. 

“ I promise.”

He sighed as you answered without messing a beat. Yes, he knew you would understand him. He could talk to you about him.. About his desires. But for now, you needed to rest. You laid him on the sofa and almost fell asleep immediately, but he couldn’t bear this image right now so he asked you to keep your eyes open for a little while. 

You tried so much to stay awake for his sake he couldn’t help but let you sleep. He didn’t sleep that night, he counted your breathing and your heartbeat. He counted them until you woke up the next morning as he was playing with your hair. 

You caressed his scars and then asked the questions he knew you would ask.

“ Who did this to you..?” 

Now, it was the time to show the monster he was inside. A monster that seemed to be tamed only for you but was craving to exist.

“ What is there to tell, dear? The man who owned the title of being my father had my mother pregnant, he wanted to be a perfect man so he married her.  It was a gamble that failed. I was born and he would beat me or my mother if we were acting a little too “ black” for him, with his belt, his fists, cold water and so many other things. He teached me how to hunt, how to kill, how to hurt… I know so many things that would make you run away from me, my dear friend…” he hugged you tighter, waiting for you to ask about the things that would make you run away but once more you surprised him.

“ I hope he dies during the war.”

He almost moaned at your sentence. He stared at your face, trying to see if there was something darker lurking inside you. It was a gamble he didn’t want to risk but… 

“ And if I told you I didn’t wish for him to be killed during war?”

He couldn’t help but grinned as you began to explain how he shouldn’t be sorry for his parents, that his father should get killed the worst way possible. You were perfect. He kissed you hungrily, your word of death against his father brought him such joy.

“ Aah.. Darling, you are…” he sighed in bliss as he dug his nails into your waist.” What if.. What if I told you I didn't want him to be killed because..” he stared at you a moment before speaking again.”  I want to be the one to kill him.”

You didn’t seem disgusted by the idea. Shocked, yes, but not screaming at him how it wasn’t a good idea. You seemed a little lost but weren’t against his idea.

“ Don’t see him as living being my dear, he isn’t worth the title. Think of it.. Like I’m going to hunt a dangerous animal that needs to be put down. I’m just like your ideal Prince charming , aren’t I? Killing dangerous people for his loved one?” He tilted his head with a soft smile, he remembered when you were younger you were bragging about the prince charming killing his enemies to save the princess, it was the same right now. 

“ How would you kill him?” you asked, curiously. 

Oh how he adored you. He kissed your face multiple times before going on about how he was going to kill his father. He's been thinking about it forever.

And then you told him you would be by his side if needed. He felt like he could cry and laugh at the same time. You were accepting him. Fully. You were accepting him, Alastor and the demon that was within himself. You were accepting them both.

“ Dearest, once I have killed my father,” you hummed while he took your hand in his. “ Would you marry me? ” he stared at you, waiting for your answer, caressing your trembling hand. 

His eyes were shaking but he kept his gaze on you, observing your reactions. 

“ Would you accept my mad affection?”

And you said yes. You were happy giving up on a normal life by chaining yourself to him. But he needed more, he was always greedy with you. He needed a bond that transcended human’s mind. So he talked about his discovery about voodoo and talked about soul bounding. 

You didn’t even wait to consider his offer, you accepted it once more.

You decided to damned yourself with him. 

You ran to the kitchen to take a knife to cut you, so you and him would be bonded together forever. Even death wouldn’t be able to tear you apart. He felt like he was flying, he was feeling so light. You would hurt yourself for him if it means staying with him. 

If he could, he would tear out his heart to give it to you. 

You were his.

His future wife.

His partner in crime.

You would be his happy ending.

—

“ Happy birthday Alastor!” 

He smiled as everyone cheered for him. There was you, sitting next to him, Alyzée, Mimzy, Alice, Victor and some extras at the table. He was now 23. How time flies. 

He was beaming as the attention was on him. He told everyone about his new job as a radio host which made you cheer the loudest. Of course his future wife would be the most delighted. He couldn’t wait to tell you his father was back home. 

Would you be excited? Nervous? Happy? Oh, he couldn’t wait to share the news with you.

At 3am you decided to go home, so he walked you back to your house. Before saying goodbye he kissed the back of your hand and shared that oh so delicious news.

You smiled widely at him before cupping his face and kissed him. He couldn’t help himself; he pinned you against the front door as he demanded you to open your mouth so he could devour you.

You were just as eager as him. His prey was coming back home.

You would soon be bound to him. 

He step back as he heard you panted his name. You were asking for his plan. You were asking about his plan to kill someone. He must be the luckiest man in all New Orleans, no doubt about it. He asked to come meet him in a week, he needed to see if his bastard had been changed by the war or not. Depending on that information, he would kill him differently.

He kissed your forehead before going back home with a smile so wide he almost didn’t recognize himself in a shop’s vitrine. How odd… He almost thought he saw his eyes reddened. 

He observed his father for a whole week. The bastard hasn't changed at all, he was just more full of himself than before the war. Perfect, he knew how he would kill him, he just needed to share it with you.

When you came to his house, he took you in his bedroom and gave you a hunting outfit, before tugging you toward the woods with two guns. You seemed confused about his hunting game but it was mostly because he wanted to catch you. A revenge for his younger self who hasn’t ever been able to catch you once you were running from him.

He explained the rules to you and you seemed excited by the game. Perfect. He waited 10 minutes after you entered the woods before going inside himself. He knew those woods like the back of his hand, he could see where you ran, where you began to walk… 

He walked toward the bushes where he could see the rifle he had given you. Were you hiding in the bushes? He waited a few seconds then smirked. He knew you couldn’t stay still for more than 3 minutes, that meant you had tried to bait him. He felt a shiver in his spine, you were playing the game like a champ! But he could hear your breathing behind the tree, right here.

“ Very intelligent darling, I almost fell for it.” He pointed his weapon toward your direction. “ But now, you are harmless.”

You step out from the tree, walking toward Alastor with a cute faked pout. He smirked, were you giving up?  But then you threw the paint’s bullet and smashed one on his weapon. 

“ Now, you are harmless too, right?” you taunted him as he stared at you with his eyes wide open. His smile was getting bigger and bigger, you were so…entrancing. He moved his hand to cup your cheek but you ran from him. Again..

But this time,unlike when he was younger, he could run as fast as you, he could run faster than you. His smile widened as he tackled you on the ground.  You were his favorite prey, a prey he would never kill but that he would always run after. Seeing your surprised expression was so worth it.

“ Caught you.” 

He had waited to say those words to you. He had caught you, he had trapped you with him. Through a wedding, through a voodoo curse. Your soul and his were tangled in a way that nobody could separate you.

“ Now, what about the plan?” you asked eagerly. He smirked. You were always the one asking first about the plan about killing his father, were you aware of that? After planning a plan, you asked the question he was dying to answer.

“ When will it happen ?”

“ Tonight, dearest.”

He was waiting for you to ask for more time, but you just nodded, ready to start your first sin together. 

He went back home with you, you were so nervous you decided to take a nap in his bedroom while holding Eamon. He went to check on you and approached your sleeping form. He looked at the fawn.

“ Protect her tonight.”

He went out to cut wood, thinking about all the possibilities that could happen tonight. He was so excited, were you feeling like him? He snapped back in reality when he heard Husker hissing at him. He stared at the cat who hissed at him before looking toward his home. Huh.. He went back inside and almost bit his lips until blood would drip. His father was standing too close to you, and from your expression, he must have said something that you didn’t like.

“ Father, are you ready for our hunting session?”  Alastor asked with his usual smile, observing your body relaxing at his voice. He took the rifle from the wall and put them on the table. He looked at you before going into the kitchen with his father. What was it called..? Tragic irony was it? His father was talking about the people he had killed during the war although he was going to get killed tonight. How funny.

He looked at you as you entered the kitchen. You weren’t wearing your necklace. Why? As he walked next to you to follow his father into the living room so he could take the weapon, you held his hand while showing him your neck.

Hah, You must have used your necklace to show him which one was the gun he should choose. How clever.

“ Are you coming boy, I don't have all night long!”

“ I know, Father.” You won’t be seeing the sun tomorrow.

He took his weapon with your necklace around it. It felt like you would be with him during his vengeance. How sweet.

He left his house to walk toward the woods with his father. One last hunting session. Two men. But only one hunter and one prey.

“ You really grew up, Alastor.” he turned his head toward his father as they kept walking deep into the forest. “ You’ve even found a little accomplice.” He kept his smile but furrowed his eyebrows. What was he talking about?

His father pointed his rifle toward nowhere and shot. Alastor froze. Why was his father’s weapon armed? He knew you would never betray him. So that meant, his father knew about his plan? How?

Before he could speak, his father hit him in the face with the back of his weapon. He didn’t know why but he felt like he was back at 8 years old, where he couldn’t do anything against his father. He was still alone. He let his father drag him into the woods. He was staring at the sky. 

“ Did you really think I wouldn’t check my gun, boy? You really should have gone to war, maybe you would learn some things or two.” he said as threw him on the floor. He looked at his father as he pointed the rifle against his forehead. Mhn, was he going to die here? No chance. He knew that he wasn’t alone anymore, you were waiting for him at home. So it was better for him to play the weak boy his father was seeing in him before turning the tables around. 

His father kept talking about how he was a disgrace. He was waiting for the perfect timing but then he saw movement. Damn it, if people were to see this scene, it would be annoyingly difficult to explain. He quickly looked on the side and froze.

It was you.

You were walking quietly toward his father with a knife in your hand, never letting your eyes drift away from the man's back. Now, what would you do? If you were to stab his father, he would pull the trigger and kill him on the spot. He wouldn’t be mad at you of course, but he didn’t wish to be killed by his father.

But once again, you surprised him by helding the blade against his father’s throat, taking away his father’s attention from him.

Then, everything went down quickly.

The bastard elbowed you on the nose, making you fall on the snow with a blessing nose. He almost snapped when he saw his father pointed his weapon toward you. He tackled him on the floor, wrestling him, trying to take the rifle back. He didn’t expect the war to help his father in being better at fighting, he thought the coward would hide himself under his camarades’s corpses.

His father kicked him off him, and was ready to shoot him but you jumped on the weapon, putting the rifle’s head toward the ground. Were you aware you were screaming?

“ Just die already !”

He felt your scream in his soul. You were screaming out loud what his younger self was thinking. He stood up once he saw his father punching you, but before he could shoot him, you raised your knife and sank it into his father’s tights. 

“ Don’t hurt him anymore!” you cried as you raised your knife once more and plugged it into his thighs once more.  

Don’t hurt us anymore. Said his younger self.

His father hit you with the rifle, making you fall into the snow once more. You stood up quickly and jumped on him, raising your knife once more. Alastor paled as he saw his father trying to headshot you, but you were so deep into bloodlust that you weren’t even aware of it. You both needed to calm down. Alastor ran toward you and tackled you on the ground, sighing in relief when he heard the gunshot hitting nobody.

Alastor stood up just before taking the knife of your hand. He would fight his father with your knife, from what he heard, his father was out of bullets, he already used two of them.

“ You little cunt. Stabbing me like you had the right.” spat his father. You stood up quickly next to Alastor who was breathing as hard as you. “ Killing you will be the easiest thing I've ever done. After fucking your mother, of course, right Alastor?”

He felt something snapped inside his mind.

He ran toward him, with a smile so wide he wondered if that was blood of saliva dripping down his chin. He avoided his father’s punches like a dance he had learned by heart. He still got touched by his fists but it was nothing he wasn’t used to. He managed to cut his father on his cheeks or his forearms. He needed to cut a tendon so he wouldn’t be able to move his muscles. He was breathing hard while his father seemed more in his element and the bastard easily disarmed him of his knife. Stupid war training.

He saw you behind his father with your necklace. That meant you have found his gun, you must have put it somewhere behind him so he could easily take it. He punched his father with much more force which sended him stumbling toward you. What were you trying to do?

He felt his heart skip a bit.

With the necklace he had given you for Christmas, you were strangling his father, forcing him to walk backward, trying to grab the thing that was bruising his neck. He needed to act fast. He began to punch his father in the face as you forced the bastard to bend his neck for him to be able to breathe. You were perfect.

With a roar, his father punched him so hard he fell backward. Fuck, he needed to stand up quickly before the bastard touched you. He looked behind him and smiled cunningly, his gun was there. You really did put the gun not too far away from him. You were just as clever as him.

He turned his head toward you when he heard you scream. He thought you were being hit but you were clawing at his father, biting him, trying to hurt him as much as he hard hurt his younger self. He took the rifle and pointed toward his father as the bastard threw you on the snow.

“ Don’t move, Father.”

But of course, the devil had his tricks too. He held you against his chest, his arms against your throat. Alastor grimaced as he saw his father kiss your cheeks. He will kill him. How dared he touch you? 

He will kill him, kill him, killhimkillhimkillhim

He was shaking from anger, he couldn’t let you die. He needed to find a plan quickly. The devil was beginning to strangle you from behind. He was ready to throw his weapon in the snow  but then you did something amazing.

You tore off one of the bastard’s eyes.

Those eyes who would look at him with disdain, disgusted, you tore one off. And you didn’t stop there, like a punishment coming from heaven you jumped on his father and began to hit him repeatedly with a rock you found. Alastor walked toward you as you kept screaming, he felt like you were doing what he couldn't do anymore. Letting it all out. 

You were beautiful. A vengeful spirit.

His father pushed you off but you were already getting ready to finish him so he stopped you with a hand against your shoulder. Would you recognize him in your blinding fury?

“ Alastor…” you said in relief. He stared at your bloodied face, you were absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t help himself, he kissed you tenderly, trying to send you his thanks through the kiss. The kiss tasted like blood.

The kiss tasted like a victorious future for the both of you.

“ You crazy bitch!” the man spat as he tried to stand up. Alastor walked calmly toward the man with his knife and his gun.  He stood in front of his father with a scary smile before dropping to his knees, and began to stab his father multiple times while laughing as the man was screaming in pain. He couldn’t stop laughing, he was careful not to sink the knife too deep, it would be a shame to kill him too quickly. Should he give his father the same scars he had given him? Should he cut his tongue so he couldn’t say such disgusting words against him or his mother?

He felt your hand on his shoulder and looked as you sat next to him. You were like a fallen angel, all bloodied, surrendered by bloodied snow. Were you aware of the effect you had on him right now?

Alastor held you the knife.

“ Would you like to try my darling?”

“ I tore his eye off, I think I’m good.” you laughed, rolling your eyes, not even caring about the man’s moans of pain.

“ Oh right, it was an amazing sight, why don’t you give it to me?” he held his palm to you and you gladly gave him his father’s eyes. “ What do we say, an eye for an eye?” he laughed as he stared at the eyeball. Maybe he will keep it as a souvenir.

“ You.. both are bat shit crazy..” spat his father underneath him. Alastor hummed before leaning toward his father’s face with a grin almost too big for his face. 

“ You should smile more, Father, you only die once after all!” he said as he began to carve a smile into his father’s skin.  The man was screaming from the pain and he couldn’t help but giggled. How pathetic, he didn’t remember screaming when his father was beating him. He felt strong like this, but as he was ready to finish his father off, he almost felt vulnerable. Would you stay with him as he kills his father?You were watching him as his worst, but that's what he was. You kissed his cheek, making him chuckle. Seems like yes, you knew what you were choosing. “ Now, you look ready for your final moments!” He stood up and took his rifle, pointing it to his father’s forehead.

“ What would your parents think, lady?” his father spat as he stared at you with his only eyes.

“ I don’t know what my parents are thinking, but Marie thanked me for taking care of the trash.” you smiled sweetly at him before standing up, next to Alastor. Alastor was staring at you, did his Mother know about his plan? 

 “ Go to hell.. Both of you…”

“ We’ll see you there then. And you better hide yourself, I can’t wait to kill you once more.” you smiled as you put your hand around Alastor's, the one ready to shoot. You stared softly at Alastor. You were his everything, you accepted to fall in hell with him. But just like he promised you, he will catch you.

“ Darling, will you marry me?”

“ With pleasure.”

And then you both pulled the trigger.

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita Please tell me if I forget to tag you.

#hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor scenarios #alastor scenario #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #fiction #alastor fiction #human alastor #human alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fan fiction

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday!! Harry Potter or Percy Jackson please!!

a continuation of 1 2 3

There's something off about Percy.

Actually, Thalia should rephrase - there are several things extremely off about Percy. It's not worth repeating, and barely worth saying, because they're all just that obvious.

They're sitting around a fire in the middle of the woods, Luke cooking the several fish that Percy had managed to spear onto his sword, which was ridiculous for an entirely different set of reasons.

"Are you a god?" she asks suspiciously.

He makes a choking sound that she thinks might be a laugh and he gives her a grin that she refuses to be charmed by. Luke is doing that enough for all of them. "Oddly, not the first time I've been asked that, but I'm just as much a demigod as you are. My mother's mortal."

"Present tense," Annabeth says, her little face screwed up into a scowl. "She's not dead, then. Is she mean?"

"Annabeth," she and Luke say at the same time. One day they're going to teach this girl tact.

Percy shakes his head, leaning back on his hands, completely unphased by Annabeth's directness. That's a point in his favor. But only a very little one. "Nah, she's great. Best mom there is. But she's mortal, and I'm," he gestures to himself.

A demigod as powerful as Percy must attract a lot of monsters, ones that he can apparently deal with, but would be deadly to his mother. Thalia feels a twinge of sympathy. It's one thing to have the messed up family dynamics that she, Luke, and Annabeth do, and it's another to have a mother that he loves and cares for and who he can't be around with endangering her life. "How long have you been on your own?"

His gaze goes distant and maybe she could learn some tact herself, but she thought it was a simple question, just factual and not personal. "I haven't lived with my mom full time since I was twelve, but I wasn't exactly on my own."

"Camp," Luke says, a hardness to his gaze.

Percy's lips twitch. "Chiron doesn't know who I am. But almost everyone who trained me did come from Camp Half-Blood."

"Including who taught you how to use a sword?" Luke asks. Thalia knows he takes pride in his swordsmanship, and she also knows that Percy is better than he is. Part of inviting him along was probably to get Percy to teach him, which Thalia can stomach a bit better than Luke getting distracted by a pretty face.

Percy goes quiet again, gazing at Luke with an expression that makes Thalia shift closer to Annabeth. "Yeah. They were from camp too."

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #girlnic #pjo

[atimeofyourlife]

A spot of color

written for @astrangersummer prompt: short shorts or nail polish | rating: g | wc: 361 The summers where Steve gets his nails painted

The first time had been Carol's fault. They'd been young, maybe eight or nine. Hanging out by Steve's pool. She dug through her bag and pulled out a bottle of nail polish that she had "borrowed" from her mom. She had insisted on trying it out on Steve and Tommy, but they had both resisted. Steve compromised by letting her paint his toe nails. He felt a little conflicted about it, knowing that his dad would hate it and he would likely get in trouble if he found out, but he loved how they looked pretty.

It became a recurring theme most summers, with Carol painting his toe nails at least once. He felt a little lost the summer after they stopped talking, as it had become a part of his summers that he enjoyed, having painted toe nails in various colors. But he didn't feel brave enough to ask Nancy or to go and buy nail polish and attempt to do it himself.

The summer of '85 Steve had resigned himself to not having his nails done anymore. He wanted it, but couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. Then the Upside Down reared it's ugly head again, brining him a new best friend in Robin. Someone he could trust to not find it weird.

It became a thing for them one long night on her bedroom floor. Neither of them able to sleep, plagued by nightmares of Russian soldiers and Upside Down monsters. Robin had pulled out her nail polish and was carefully painting her nails in varying bright colors.

"Have you ever had your nails painted?" She asked, looking up at Steve as she waited for her nails to dry.

"Carol used to do my toes. Every summer for years." Steve admitted quietly. "I kinda miss it."

"I could do it for you?" She offered. "And it doesn't just have to be your toes?"

Steve took a moment before he accepted. A soft pink on his fingernails, something that looked barely there. But a brighter red on his toes, that he could admire alone or when Robin was around, but he could hide with ease when necessary.

#a stranger summer #steve harrington #carol perkins #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stobin #atimeofyourwrites

[ghostxrose]

Thanks for answering my request so fast! Nobody's answered me so fast, even if you didn't write anything. It's fine, though!! Maybe I'll change my request? How about, an angst (of course) where female reader and Bakugou are married and have kids (doesn't matter how much or how old) but it turns out, Bakugou has been cheating (angst ending pls, unless you don't want) on Yn for a while now?

Ive been looking for something like this recently but never found it!

Thanks! 😘😘

Thank you so much for the ask, Lovely! I'm sorry that it took so long for me to answer, but I hope that I excuted the idea well. If I'm being honest, I had some trouble with this idea. Cheating isn't something I write about, but I hope that you get your fill of angst, haha.. Anyway, much love and appreciation, Lovely!

Earth Shattering | Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

You gaze out of the window of your parent’s dining room, gently rocking the half asleep one-year-old in your arms. It’s warm and sunny outside, but even the sun’s rays can’t melt away the cold feeling at the back of your mind of something being off. Life has been going well, you have everything you could ever want, but still that voice of intuition won’t quit its whispering.

“He hasn’t been with you three when you’ve come by for these lunches in ages. Your father and I just miss seeing our son-in-law, that’s all, hunny.” Your mother says with a touch of concern in her tone.

“He’s the country’s Number Two Hero, Mom. He has a busy schedule and he’s exhausted during his days off.” You say, giving her the same tired excuse that you’ve been giving her for nearly a year now.

Your gaze shifts to the bubbly three-year-old giggling and babbling nonsense to your father. A small smile pulls at your lips and something in your chest warms while simultaneously aching.

Truthfully, Katsuki has barely had time for the three of you. Your poor husband is always either out on the streets fighting demented villains or ends up staying late at his office drowning in paperwork. It’s put a bit of a strain of your relationship, but you know that he can’t do much about his work schedule, so you tough it out.

As much as you would have liked for him to come with you to your parent’s house today, you had seen just how exhausted he was. So you told him to spend his day off resting while you and the kids were out of the house for the day. He had asked multiple times if you would be fine handling them, if you were sure about him staying home. He knows that being a stay at home mom can be draining at the very least and you appreciate him wanting to help out. But you had reassured him over and over that you would be fine and told him to just relax as much as he could.

You can admit to yourself that you have been feeling frazzled these days.. It’s no easy task for one person to take care of a rambunctious three-year-old along with a fussy one-year-old. But you do it every day with a smile, even if some days that smile is a bit forced or strained.

“I know, hun,” your mother says softly, walking up to you with a warm smile on her face. She looks down and coos quietly at the sleeping baby in your arms. A more easy smile graces your face and you follow your mother to the couch to sit down.

You talk with your parents for a few more hours. It’s all general conversation and talks about taking the kids out to fun places. You feel slightly more sane on days like this, days where there’s other adults to talk with. Even chatting about mundane things like the weather feels good compared to the constant drone of kids cartoons and baby cries.

You love your kids, of course you do. They’re both the perfect mix of you and Katsuki in looks and personalities. Starting a family had been something you and Katsuki had talked about for a long time after you started dating. When your first child had been born the joy and light in your husband’s eyes was unmatched to any other feeling.

Admittedly, your second child had been an accident.. The result of the night Katsuki had been named Number Two. A night which you hardly remember except that you both had too much champagne and you forgot to take your birth control. But your second child entered the world with a warm and loving welcome from you and Katsuki.

You look over at the clock on the wall and let out a quiet sigh, “Looks like we should head out. It’s getting close to dinner time and I think Kats said he was going to make curry.”

“Alright, sweetie. We’ll help you load up the munchkins,” your father says as he stands up, your tired and fussy three-year-old sleepily clinging to him.

You buckle your one-year-old into their carrier, then grab the diaper bag. Your mother walks out of the kitchen with a container of spiced cookies, one of Katsuki’s favorites, and flashes you a smile. You give her an appreciative smile, then you all file out of the door to your car.

It’s a challenge for your father trying to buckle up your worn-out and inconsolable three-year-old, but the task gets completed. Once your kids are buckled in and everything has been secured in place you turn the car on, then make your way back to your parents. You hug them both, thank them for a nice day, and tell them you’ll try to get Katsuki to come with next time. By the time you slide into the driver’s seat of your car, your once inconsolable three-year-old is passed out and your one-year-old peacefully stares out the window.

The drive home is filled with you quietly humming along with the radio and trying to ignore the sudden and heavy feeling developing in the pit of your stomach. Your mind can’t provide a reason behind the feeling, so you just brush it off. You move with the flow of traffic until you eventually slow to pull into your driveway.

The security gate is already open and the feeling that’s been sitting like a rock in your stomach churns. Pulling up to the house the sight of an unfamiliar car parked in front of your garage is unavoidable. Your body begins to tremble as a million scenarios race through your mind, the top one being that somebody has broken into your home. You put your car in park, leaving it running but turning off the radio. A quick glance in your rear view mirror tells you that both of your children are sleeping.

Panic surges through you as you try to think about what to do. You pull your phone out of your purse and dial Katsuki’s number. It rings for what feels like forever until you get Katsuki’s voicemail. You try calling him a couple more times, but you keep getting his voicemail. Trying to school your breathing so that you don’t wake your children, you call Izuku and luckily he picks up on the first ring.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s up?” Izuku asks with his usual cheerfulness.

“Hey, Izuku. I’m, uhm, I’m kind of freaking out right now,” you say quietly, your eyes darting between your house and the view of your children in the rear view mirror.

“What’s going on?” Izuku’s tone quickly becomes serious and concerned.

“I-I just got home with the kids and the gate was open and there’s a car here that I’ve never seen before.. Katsuki isn’t answering his phone and I don’t know if he’s okay a-and I don’t know what-” Your words rush out of you and despite your best efforts your breathing picks up and tears sting at your eyes.

“I’m on my way right now, just stay in your car, okay? Do you have the doors locked?” There’s the sound of a door closing in the background as Izuku talks to you and a bit of relief fills you.

“Y-yeah.. What if.. what if Katsuki’s hurt, Izuku? What if a villain found out where we live o-or this is a robbery and they have weapons? I-I don’t.. I-I c-can’t..” You bring a hand up to muffle the cry that’s crawled up your throat and your watery eyes look into the mirror again.

“I’m almost there, Y/N. It’s all going to be okay. I’ll find out what’s going on and everything will be just fine.” Izuku tries his best to reassure you, but your stomach still churns with a now sickening feeling and all you can respond with is a weak “okay.”

It doesn’t take long for Iuzku’s car to tear into the driveway, your friend parking haphazardly a few feet away from you. He quickly gets out of his car and flashes you his signature smile before rushing to your front door. You watch him disappear inside and your emotions build up until you feel like you’re going to explode.

Suddenly, the front door is thrown open and a shaken-looking woman rushes out. Her hair is messy, her clothes look like hastily thrown on, and she looks a bit scared. She closes the door behind her and starts to head toward the car parked in front of your garage. Her eyes flit around until they land on your car, and your shocked gaze meets hers. The woman’s eyes widen and she practically runs to her car, quickly getting inside then peeling out of your driveway.

Your shocked mind suddenly goes blank and a numb-feeling spreads through your entire being. With one last look back at your sleeping babies, you get out of your car. You close the door of the running vehicle as slowly and quietly as you can. Mom-guilt about leaving your children in the car eats at the back of your mind as you make your way to the front door.

As soon as you open it you hear shouting coming from down the hall where your bedroom is at. You feel nauseous now and stomach acid burns at the back of your throat as you step further into the house.

“Don’t fucking tell her, Izuku! Sh-she doesn’t need to know! Th-the other women were just stress relief, I still love Y/N!” You hear Katsuki shout at Izuku and it takes conscious effort not to puke your shattered heart out.

You’re sure you’re wearing the same look of horrified shock as Katsuki when you get to the doorway of you and your husband’s bedroom. His is riddled with guilt, though, as your tear-filled eyes meet his. Izuku is at your side in an instant, letting you lean against him as your knees threaten to give out. The silence filling the room is tense, heavy, and suffocating as you take in your husband’s appearance. He’s nearly naked except for a pair of boxers, his hair is messier than usual, and he looks sweaty.

Your swallow dryly and straighten up, “Izuku, can the kids stay with you and Ochako for the night?” Your voice comes out surprisingly even given the situation.

“Y-yeah.. Y/N-” Izuku stutters in his reply, but you cut him off before he can speak further.

“Everything they should need is in the diaper bag in the back of my car. Call if there’s any problems or you guys need anything. Thank you.” You say a bit firmly as you fight to keep your composure.

Katsuki just stands there silently gaping and looking at you with an almost unreadable mix of emotions. You can’t help the trembling of your lip or the tears that continue to spill from your eyes as you stare right back at him. A horrible pain shoots through your chest and it really feels like you can feel your heart breaking. Izuku squeezes your shoulder before silently leaving and you wait until you hear the front door close before letting your composure crumble.

Gut-wrenching sobs are ripped from your chest and your legs finally give up on keeping you standing. You wail into your hands as painful heartbreak and rage consume you.

Katsuki arms are suddenly wrapping around you, “Y/N, baby, I-I’m so sorry! I-”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You scream as you shove him off of you and crawl backwards away from him. “Take a fucking shower, then meet me out in the living room. I’m not talking to you in the same room you fucked other people! Unless you fucked them on the couch too?! You know what, I’ll be in the damn kitchen! It’s probably safe since you’ve refused to even fuck me in there!”

You’re quick to get up and leave the bedroom, slamming the door behind you before Katsuki could even get another word in. You sob as you make your way to the kitchen, the sight of half-eaten take out boxes sitting on the counter pushing you further over the edge. You barely make it to the trash before the contents of your stomach make their reappearance.

After cleaning yourself up and rinsing your mouth out with some water, you sit at the table and wait in the deathly silence. Too many thoughts run through your mind as you try to figure out if this is reality or not. Your mind supplies you with the reminder of how you noticed Katsuki’s behavior change not long after he had hit Number Two. How he seemed to have more late nights at the office during your second pregnancy, and even after the birth of your baby. How his days off were either spent here at the house by himself or the two of you doing your own things around the house.

The worst thought your mind supplied you is how rarely you were intimate with Katsuki anymore. You had just brushed it off as his sex-drive lowering because of the busy life you both lived. You never would have thought that he was getting his pleasure from other women while you were blissfully unaware and having to pleasure yourself..

You flinch at the sound of the bedroom door closing and your chest aches with every footstep approaching. The sound of the chair across from you being pulled away from the table makes you cringe as the feet of it scrape along the floor. You can feel Katsuki’s gaze on you, see his arms resting against the table top from your peripheral vision. You stare down at the spot on the table in front of you for another moment until you gather the courage to look him in the eyes.

“How long?” You ask quietly, your voice shaking.

Katsuki bits his bottom lip and his eyes shift down to his hands, “Please, Y/N.. I-I fucked up, I was a damn idiot, but please we can work-”

“How long, Katsuki? How long have you been screwing other women while I take care of our children? While I clean our house! While I do your laundry! How long have you been fucking other women in our bed while I’ve been playing loyal wife?!” You ask with such a bitterness and rage that Katsuki flinches.

“..it started a couple months after we found you were pregnant again.. " Katsuki admits quietly, his fists clenched and guilt written all over his face.

You choke on a muffled sob and your mind surges back to to the first message you had gotten from him telling you that he was staying late at work. Every single other message flashes through your mind until you’re reminded that he eventually just stopped sending them and left you to assume.

“..Wh-why? Di-did I do something? Wh-when did I become not enough for you?” You ask brokenly as you wonder how your heart is still beating even though it feels like it should be failing.

“Baby.. Y/N, y-you didn’t do anything.. not on purpose. Y-Your body was so sensitive when you were pregnant, it seemed like every little touch caused you pain.. A-and your mood swings were so constantly changing and I didn’t want to take my frustration out on you because you were carrying my fuckin’ child, so I just bottled it up..” Katsuki tries to explain, but his excuses are poor at best and rage burns in your veins.

“So instead of talking to me about it, instead of having a conversation with your wife, you chose to cheat?” You ask incredulous and hurt.

Katsuki clenches his jaw, his tell-tell signs of anger appearing on his features, “It felt like my wife didn’t want me around, let alone touch me! So, yes, I took advantage of the fact that women willingly throw themselves at me and I got my rocks off that way!”

You flinch as if his words are physical blows and another sob tears from your chest, “You tore apart our lives just to get your dick wet? I am so sorry that my difficult pregnancy pushed you to such an option. I am so sorry that I was so sore that even wearing clothes hurt. I am so sorry that I was so full of hormones that the mood swings that made me feel like shit, made you feel so unwanted. I am so sorry, Katsuki, that carrying, birthing, then caring for both of your children forced you to go put your dick in other pussies!”

Katsuki lets out a frustrated growl, his own anger firing up, “Christ, Y/N, I’m sorry! I’ll be sorry for the rest of my fucking life! I’m sorry that I wasn’t better, but I can be better! I won’t touch another woman again, I promise you! We can work through this, I still love you, damn it!”

A dry, humorless laugh bubbles out of your mouth and you can’t breathe for a moment. Katsuki pants across from you, caught up in his emotion, and stares at you bewildered.

“You’ve made promises, Katsuki,” you spit once you’ve caught your breath. “You stood across from me at that damn alter five years ago, said the same vows that I did. We made the same promises for each other, but the difference now is that I upheld mine! We can’t work through this, I don’t trust you anymore! You’ve single-handedly burned us to the ground-”

“Don’t it, baby, please! Don’t say what I think you’re gonna say,” Katsuki begs as he half stands from his chair to try to reach across the table for you.

You push away from the table, standing fully from your chair and looking at Katsuki with anger and hurt, “We’re done, Katsuki, I want a divorce. In the mean time, the kids and I will be staying at my parent’s house. Don’t bother wasting your efforts trying to fix the shit you’ve broken. We are done.”

You leave Katsuki half hunched over the table stunned with tears in his eyes. You rush to the bedroom and hastily throw articles of clothing into a suit case. You grab a couple pairs of shoes, then quickly leave the bedroom nearly running into your husb- Katsuki. You shove past him as he starts spilling apologies and pleas for you to stay. Every weak grasp on your arm or wrist is met with you wrenching yourself away from him.

Ripping open the front door you rush to your car, throwing your little bit of belongings into the back seat. You climb into the driver’s seat and turn the car on, taking the picture of you and Katsuki off of your sun visor and throwing out of the window. As you back your car up to turn it around, you catch sight of Katsuki one more time. He’s standing on the front porch with guilt, shame, and sadness on his face. Tears cascade down from the eyes that you used to find so beautiful and you have to will yourself not to put the car in park and go running back into his arms.

Your tires screech as you pull out of the driveway, but it doesn’t cover up the sound of you screaming your heart break at your windshield. Tears pour down your face and hinder your vision as you try to maneuver through traffic. You’re desperate to see your babies, to hug them and tell them that you love them and that you’re sorry for what their future is going to become. You’re also desperate for someone’s comfort, whether it be your parents or Izuku and Ochako. You need a shoulder to cry on, a pillow to scream into, and maybe a stiff drink or two.

As you scream, sob, beat your steering wheel, and drive a bit haphazardly, too many thoughts flood your mind. Why would he do this to you? How could he do this to you? Why weren’t you enough? What more could you have done? Is this all actually happening? Is this really your reality?

“This is my reality..” You say aloud hoarsely as you sit in your car looking at Izuku and Ochako’s front door. Your body is simultaneously numb and aching all over. Your mind has finally gone blank, but it’s in the worst way possible. Tears still roll down your face and you sniffle every now and then as you continue dazedly staring.

How is it that your entire world can shatter within the span of a day?

Sorry if it wasn't angsty enough! But I hope that you stick around for future angst! I really cannot thank you enough for the ask/request, it means a lot to me that you'd want to reach out to me at all! My hope is to start interacting with my readers more, so I hope that others see this and want to follow your lead!

Hope you enjoyed the read and keep being amazing, Lovely! <3

#bakugo brain rot #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #mha #shasta rose asks #asks #request #writing requests #angst #hurt/angst #no comfort

[deepestnightcolor]

Hello ~ I just binged all of your Sam fics and am obsessed!! I would love to see your take on what happened during Sam's 10 heart event if you stay in the bed hehe. Thank you for your writing!!

ᴀ/ɴ: Thank you so much for the compliment and the request. It really, really means a lot to me. I simply love writing Sam as a pussy-whipped slut. I hope you enjoy, thank you for your time!

☾ ʜɪᴅᴇᴏᴜᴛ ☽

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x afab!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 3402 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: creampie, mentions of blood, drool, fast sex, mentions of being caught, I guess?

"Well, don't do too many push-ups, then. Good night, dear."

The click of the door signaled that Jodi had left the room, the sight that left Sam only verifying your assumption. Still, you waited. Quietly, patiently. There was no need to rush now, was there? And besides, Sam's bed smelled _so_ good. Like vanilla and cola, like fresh air. Like him.

"Shit...I'm sorry. You can come out now."

You didn't want to. Surrounded by his scent and the warmth that your position beneath the yellow sheet had caused, you felt comfortable and safe. Still, Sam could watch you shift around before your head popped up from below the bed sheet. Your hair was ruffled, and your cheeks were red. If from the rush of having to hide, or embarrassment, he didn't know. But he knew he himself was bushing due to the two things combined. He hadn't wanted to hide you, but he was painfully aware that the whole town would have known about...this had his mom seen you. And he didn't even know if you wanted this.

He gave you a smile, small and sheepish. "I'm sorry for hiding you-"

"Your bed is comfortable," you interrupted, stretching your body before slowly lifting the yellow sheet. "Try it. It's a really good hideout."

For a moment, his orbs were filled with disbelief. Confusion, even. That didn't last long, though, the look on his face quickly being swept off and replaced with a lighter one, maybe one of relief. Feeling Sam almost jump on the bed and snuggle up to you, you realized it had been a look of excitement.

His arms felt warm and heavy around you, and there was no other choice but to give in to this comforting touch.

"You know...," he murmured, snapping the rubber band around his wrist behind your back. "I usually put on rubber bands when I don't want to forget something. But this time this was unnecessary...I mean. I... I could never forget how I feel about you, you know?"

Your heart was beating up in your throat, and your breathing was now heavier. You tried to find words.

Really, you did. But all you could do was form a smile on his lips, the throbbing of your heart in your throat screaming at you to make it calm enough for him to go on.

To your great joy, Sam did. "Y'know...I...well. I haven't felt like this about anyone ever...and I-I...y'know."

Say it. Yoba, please.

"I always knew there was something special between us. That..that I really like you," he whispered, gently gripping your chin.

The smile that was plastered on your lips stayed put until you felt Sam's soft ones against yours. You heard your blood rushing in your ears as you flung your arms around his neck, kissing him back.

It started out so soft, so gentle. Mouths moving in sync, whispering the words neither of you had found in your awkwardness without using words.

You seriously didn't know how it could have escalated like this; Sam's tongue was in your mouth now, dominating yours as you eagerly sucked on it. His large hands were tracing up and down your sides, until they finally found the hem of your shirt, vanishing beneath the fabric before you could do as much as even lift it.

You moaned when the palms of his hands pressed against your tits, a sound that riled Sam up. His head was spinning, and he was pretty sure it was because of the lack of blood which slowly made its way elsewhere.

Actually, that was a lie. His dick was hardening faster than he would have ever wanted to admit, and your leg wrapping around his slender hips certainly didn’t help. He could feel the heat of your lower body matching his now, and Yoba did it feel good.

“Sam,” you whimpered in his mouth that pressed sloppy kisses to yours. Only now did he realize that his fingers were pinching your nipples through the lacy fabric of your bra, leading you to grind into his erect penis. It was so tempting, after all. Right there, hot and throbbing against you.  “Mhh?” he grunted back, but the time he gave you to react was barely non-existent as his sloppy tongue entered your mouth again, teeth cluttering together when you inched closer.

 Neither of you cared, too involved in the heat of the moment. Sam’s long fingers wandered behind your back, unclasping the hooks of your bra and pulling it from beneath your shirt.

The piece of clothing landed in the middle of his room without much more regard to it, fingers now pressing down on the exposed flesh, hard enough to send little waves of pleasure through you, but not hard enough to satisfy the greedy hunger that was growing within you, to ease the wetness pooling between your legs.

As if reading your thoughts, he moved his head. Your lips separated with a smack and the moment you didn’t feel them on yours anymore, you craved more. The softness of them, his tongue sloppily massaging yours; the taste of his spit. You wanted it again, felt so lost without them until they met the heated skin just below your skin.

“You are so pretty,” Sam cooed, sucking the skin in his mouth. The wetness combined with the warmth made your head spin, your hips bucking forward in a search for more, more, more. What you were met with caught you both by surprise and yet filled you with contentment as the blond pressed you into the mattress, his face now hovering above yours. “Fuck, I know this is fast-“

“Just fuck me,” you whispered back, voice just barely above a whisper. You at least had to try and be quiet in here, didn’t you? After all, Jodi could hear and check up on you again.

Sam didn’t seem to share the same kind of sentiment; the moan that left his swollen lips – you must have bitten down too hard when you kissed – was loud, edging on a whimper. Even his face looked like he was already close to his orgasm, a sliver of drool falling from the corner of his mouth as he took you in.

You wanted to urge him on some more, slowly but surely growing impatient by the slowing pace, yet you didn’t have to. Long fingers found the waistband of your pants, and with one, strong tug, you felt air caress the skin of your thighs. Your breath was just barely able to hitch before your panties found their way to the ground next. Blue eyes were drawn to your pussy, staring at the glistening wet between the plush of your thighs. You bit your lower lip and spread them slowly for him, allowing him a more exposed view of what he was craving.

Sam couldn’t take his eyes off you, the look in them was one you would have never been able to describe. So full of lust and desire. His tongue was now sticking from beneath his teeth, the tent in his pants so obvious it was rewarded by a moan coming from you.

You couldn’t be quite sure what was going on behind those pretty eyes of his, but you definitely felt like he was fucking you with eyes.

“You okay, Sammy boy?” you asked, letting your fingers dance down your own body. You pinched your nipples for him, enjoying the way his eyes followed each and every move. They followed your finger, all the way down to your clit where it now was rubbing gentle circles into the bundle of nerves. You threw a small, breathless moan in his direction, watched how he licked his lips. One time, two times. His cock was twitching in his pants, you could see it strain against the fabric. Even now he looked absolutely delicious. “Don’t you wanna fuck me?”

That seemed to bring the blond back to life. His hand flew to the fly of his pants, shaking fingers trying to slide it down. But it seemed that the zipper tried to punish him for his sudden impatience, getting stuck more often than it slipped down. You watched with an amused look in your eyes, yet if you had to be honest, this was killing you. It felt absolutely amazing to be desired in such an open, shameless way, and yet it was like your pussy was throbbing with agony over the fact that Sam wasn’t acting on it. “Come on, Sammy boy, ah fuck,” you sighed, tilting your head back into the pillow, your hips bucking upwards just as though they were inviting him. His scent was still surrounding you, which only turned you on more.

A moan was to be heard, coming right from the man towering above you. “You clenched around nothing,” he whispered, albeit his words were more stammered than coherently formed. You grinned to yourself, which was harder than it seemed because the pleasure you felt from adding pressure to your sweet little clit had you scrunching up your face. “And to think, all this time, it could have been you.”

Something wet touched your thigh. You did not need to look down to know that Sam had drooled on you, but what you hadn’t expected was to hear a ripping sound. Your head shot up, and you saw that Sam had simply ripped his jeans. The blue fabric hung loosely around his hips now, though not for much longer. Without even a moment to blink, you could hear the sound of Sam’s cock smacking against his stomach.

Your throat tightened upon seeing it; it was big and red with how hard it was. A piercing adorned the drooling tip, and if you looked closely, you could see globs of pre-cum dribble down the thick shaft, kissing the pulsing veins along the way.  “Finally- Fuck!” You gasped out, spreading your legs wider in an attempt to accommodate the red tip that was prodding at your entrance already.  “Gonna be..shit, you’re..suckin’ me in so good, baby,” he breathed, closing his eyes in a desperate attempt to at least regain a small amount of composure. But your cunt – holy fuck, your cunt was pretty, so, so, pretty – sucking his tip off so well… how could he? He couldn’t, because there was no composure left.

His knuckles turned white as he slowly pushed forward, pierced tip entering you, just for his shaft to stretch you slowly. The movement of his pale hips was accompanied by a low moan that tore from the place of heated pleasure you felt deep within you. He had to stop- just had to. He was about to cum, fill you up despite not even being halfway in. You simply sounded so sweet, and your squishy walls were so wet, so welcoming. So… tempting.

That was why it wasn’t his fault! It really wasn’t – not at all. His hips did what they wanted, shoving forward quickly before he could stop himself. The moan that filled the room now came from two bodies but entered the air as one. Sam was big. Stretching your walls in an almost uncomfortable way, especially since he reached so deep. Your world seemed to spin; the only thing you could actually focus on was the face of pure pleasure above you. A thin layer of sweat had formed on his forehead, strands of blonde hair sticking to his face. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, eyes searching yours.

The bright blue sea had turned into a dark one now, and you could have drowned in them. If there had been the time.

Sam pulled out of you, only a little at first, just to thrust forward again. His eyes still were plastered on your face, gauging your reaction. You sucked in a sharp breath through your gritted teeth. Another thrust; again he was still filling you up almost completely, just to thrust into you, bottoming out. This thrust felt better than the first one, much better. And fuck, his pretty, pretty face. He was focused, working hard to not just lose control. You could see it in the way he was staring at you, in the way he bit his lip hard enough for it to draw blood. His brain might have switched to standby, but he still didn’t want to hurt you. Even if he felt like a bitch in heat right now, your comfort was his highest priority.

“Sam-“ you breathed as another short thrust filled you up. The sound of his name mixing with pleasure leaving your sweet mouth, swollen from the kisses you had shared, it all was too much. He had seriously attempted to take it slow, but his hips moved faster than his brain could think.

He leaned down to kiss you again, and this time you could not only taste his saliva but also the metallic taste of blood. You sucked on his lower lip, feeling a sudden emptiness threatening to wash over you. That feeling didn’t last long, though as Sam quickly fucked his dick back inside of you. Short, deep thrusts had now become long ones, and his hips moved fast enough to make your body bounce. Your tits jumped along with his fast rhythm, not that you cared. All you cared about was the feeling of being so perfectly full, of having his lips press kisses all over you. “So fuckin’ hot, ya know that? Listen to your pussy, baby- fuck you’re suckin’ me off,” he gasped, one hand moving beneath your thigh to push it towards your bouncing chest. The stretch his girthy dick caused was long forgotten, and again you felt the desire to have more. Lucky for you, Sam was happy to deliver.

His hips humped into you with a fast speed – the blonde wasn’t one to thrust hard, but he did thrust deep. The squelching sounds of your cunt trying to suck his wettened dick back in whenever he left you filled the room, just like Sam’s whimpers and whines of your names. He tried to busy his mouth by leaving wet spots all over your body, here and there he even was able to focus enough to suck a hickey into your flesh. Yet you doubted that it was to stay quiet; you yourself didn’t even care much anymore.

You moaned his name shamelessly, your hands finding the fabric of his shirt, fingers twisting into it. You were sure that your nails dug crescents into the skin despite the thin layer of protection, but even if you did, it didn’t seem like Sam cared. Quite the opposite, actually. Lapping at your nipple through your shirt, his hips pounded into you what he had tried to tell you before.

That he found you amazing, absolutely gorgeous. That he wanted you and needed you to be his. Even though no words were shared, your body seemed to understand, nonetheless. Working with Sam, your hips bucking up to allow him deeper. “Such..such a good girl,” he praised, the faltering of his voice, however, was a clear enough sign that he had long lost all senses of control. His dick was fucking you fast, the bed beneath you creaking dangerously, but why should he have cared? Fuck, he wanted to fuck you through the mattress, break the damn bed, too. It didn’t mean he would have stopped. “Sam!” Your moan was now high pitched, eyes clenching close. You were nearing your climax; the way you clenched around him only proved it further. It was like your  pussy was scared of him to stop, trying to prevent him from slipping out of you before you could get your sweet release.

Sam was in quite a similar position. His eyes for once had left your face, now following how well your cunt took his dick. Watching how you swallowed him whole, and how he pulled out with some more wetness covering his pulsing dick. He wasn’t sure if it was his precum or your wetness, maybe it was both. What he did know was that he wanted more. Despite his balls already pulling tight, he sped up his hips. Hands clinging onto your body to refuse you all opportunities to escape, he humped into you as if his life depended on you. Droplets of spit from his lolling tongue landed on you, but they didn’t get the string of moans and begs that now left your mouth to cease.

Suddenly, it was there. Grabbed you, threw you in the air. Your toes curled, your back arching upwards as you tried to chase Sam’s dick with your hips, your eyes rolling back in your skull. Your orgasm pulsated through you in a way that made your face and legs feel numb, and still feel the pounding into your cunt.

“Fuck, go- where do you want me-“

You were barely able to form the words that described the desperate, hot need you felt. His dick was twitching within you, and you knew he was dangerously close to the edge. Sam was panting now, his head slowly falling back. Your high was still lingering, yet the perverted need that filled your head needed to be spoken out.

“Fill me up,” you begged, your voice barely above a strained whisper, but it was enough for the blonde.

A sharp slam forward made the bed creak and the headboard slam into the wall, though the feeling that washed over you distracted you way too much. Ropes of hot cum filled you up, marking your bullied walls as Sam’s property. His head was still thrown back, his thighs twitching as he whimpered your name, voice a pitch higher than normal, and yet he shamelessly exposed what you did to him. The load that filled you up was much more than anticipated, and yet it was the only thing that could have filled the pit in your stomach that had been feeding on greed and lust for Sam.

Panting replaced the sound of skin against skin, the sound of moans as the blonde finally pulled you out, biting his lower lip when he saw some cum drip from your pretty cunt. He dropped down next to you in exhaustion, one arm immediately wrapping around you.

“Fuck,” the two of you breathed in unison, just to share a laugh. Sam smiled at you, tiredly, but also contently. You gave him a small smile back, before pressing your lips together in a last, sleepy kiss.

You had slipped out through the window with Sam after the blond had helped you clean up. He had removed any trace of dried spit and cum that he had been able to find, even though it had been much to your dismay. The walk to your farm had been quiet, but a silence that was comfortable. Your hand was wrapped in Sam's, the blond carrying a goofy smile on his tired face. The sun had just begun to rise when Sam and you shared another kiss on the front porch of your house, promising one another to meet again the very same afternoon, and Sam had left your farm both feeling giddy and totally exhausted.

He slipped in through the window of his bedroom, just barely able to get the sheets off of his bed when he heard someone clear his throat behind him. Turning around, he was met by his mom. One of her arms was crossed over her chest, the other held up a bra.

“Samson,” she began, one brow cocked. “I thought I raised you better.”

Blood shot in his cheeks, his brain whirring as he tried to come up with a way to explain things, but Jodi just shook her head.

“Hiding a nice girl like her; she deserves better than that, Samson! Here. I put her bra in the wash and dryer, so at least be a gentleman this time and give it back to her.”

He felt like the blush that had blossomed on his cheeks had now wandered to his lips, making them too heavy to speak. Instead, he stared at his mom, with his mouth open.

Jodi rolled her eyes, throwing the bra at him. “You know, there was a time when I was young, too,” she said, already turning to leave his room. Sam looked at the piece of clothing in his hands, swallowing thickly.

“Oh, and Sam?”

It was the first time he had been able to speak: “Yes, mom?”

“Next time you do “push-ups”, be quieter. Or maybe visit your gym buddy.”

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #sdv sam #sdv sam x reader #smut #fanfic

[xxfaggatronxx]

Inspired by @yakowo ‘s drawing

Daddy Dom Price x Baby Gay Gaz

Part 2: Gaz

Gaz never thought he was gay. Or bisexual. Or whatever it was called. Sure, he had taken a few peeks in the communal showers on base, but who hadn’t? And as a kid his mom had let him try her makeup, but she was always sweet and kind. The one thing that changed everything was his Captain, John Price.

Maybe it was the way he was so kind and fatherly, a presence Gaz had missed in his life when his father passed at the age of eight. Or it could have been the time Price had given him praise, was patient when he had adjusted to the task force. But, it was probably the time he saved his life.

A mission going sideways, Price flinging himself on top of Gaz to keep him covered from enemy fire, the feeling of the warm weight pressing on his body, the thick thighs straddling his hips, so similar to…. Other experiences his hands had flown up with muscle memory, resting on his Captain’s hips while Prince yelled for backup.

Needless to say, Gaz left that mission with every excuse to keep his lap covered.

But going to a gay bar? That felt like a monumental step. One he felt like should be taken with a couple shots and… maybe a few more for good measure. ‘Liquid Courage’, as Soap called it anyways.

Stepping into the bar…. It felt like any other bar. Gaz hadn’t known what he was expecting; maybe a strip club with skinny, pale men shaking their asses on poles with lots of makeup? Because that certainly wasn’t it. The lights were dim, colors flashing with the smell of sweat, booze, and too many body sprays. Just like the barracks.

He was greeted with the sight of most people… simply relaxing. Some were dancing, sure, but some were curled up on each other’s laps, odd dog-like masks obscured some people’s faces, and there was even a small group of people in dresses, and he had to do a double take when he saw a man with a beard and belly in a skintight dress.

He saw a man with his back towards him, and an odd green cloth in his left pocket. Lots of people had little bandanas in their pockets, actually. He approached the man, and saw people touching him, so it was probably okay, he figured. Gaz hesitantly laid his palm on the man’s lower back, tracing down until he reached their ass, giving it a firm squeeze before stuffing a ten into the back pocket. “…Care for a dance?”

The guy even leaned back into the touch, humming deeply until Gaz felt the leather of his jacket tickle his nose slightly, the rough feel of a beard rubbing against his jaw as the man backed up, pressing his round ass against Gaz’s crotch. Good god, this was *fun*, why hadn’t he done this before?

His hands rested on the strangers hips, pulling him back to grind on him slowly, resting his chin over the man’s shoulder with a soft, shaky sigh. He ran his hands over the man’s front, thumbs dipping between their belt and hips as he heard a familiar chuckle, and a husky, low voice whisper in his ear. “You’re new to the scene, aren’t you?”

Gaz froze, swallowing thickly. “….Captain?” By the way his ‘dance’ partner froze, he realized that he had been recognized too. Price stepped off to the side, eyes wide as he stared at Gaz, as if shocked to be seen like that: leather jacket, leather cap, tight gray jeans and with money stuffed into his pants like… like a stripper.

His boss… his captain was frozen in front of him, and took another step back. Gaz took a step towards Price, reaching out to place a hand on his waist, pulling him closer until their hips were pressed flush. “Wait…. I… can I have my dance still… sir?” Something moved in the corner of his eye, and he felt rough leather under his chin, lifting slightly as he gasped.

That damn crop. Price leaned in, his beard scratching Gaz’s neck, making the younger shudder and his eyes flutter closed. “Please… Sir,” Price returned a smile, pressing a kiss to his neck, and Gaz’s hands slipped to his boss’s waist, holding him with shaky hands. Price chuckled, smelling like leather, tabbaco, and rum. “…You asked so nicely, Kyle… I think you deserve a reward…”

#john price #cod price #captain price #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz cod #price x gaz

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Gabe/Stephen; largesse (pt II)

For the prompt: Gabe and Stephen being sappy at SOME point

Follows this.

Early on, Gabe worries he’s wrong about his 'Stephen loves holidays' thesis: Easter’s during Passover that year, and neither of them do anything for it, unless you count Stephen buying a few bags of mini eggs from the drug store when they go on clearance after, and Gabe doesn’t. At this point mini eggs are entirely secular — they’re not even a seasonal thing. Gabe saw a Christmas edition of them a few months back, though he’s not sure how eggs are supposed to be involved in Christmas. Maybe another gift for Santa? Cookies and milk aren't a very well-balanced diet, some eggs can't hurt.

But then Mother’s Day arrives, and while Gabe orders his mom flowers, Stephen leans over him, sighing about needing to get his mom something, but not flowers, because his mom doesn’t like flowers, she always makes things difficult, why can’t she just like what everyone else does. This is the third straight day of their annual tradition of brainstorming what to get Anouk — twice annual tradition, actually, it comes up on her birthday too, and probably at Christmas, now that Gabe’s thinking about it, it’s just that Stephen worries about what to get everyone for Christmas, with the exception of Gabe and his parents, and that’s just because he worries about what to get them for Hannukah instead.

And then Father’s Day comes around, and Stephen goes through the exact same process for getting Johan a gift. Then Beth’s birthday, and that Stephen pretends not to care about at all, but then gets her and Anna tickets to a Taylor Swift concert in Toronto that summer, and Gabe’s pretty sure securing those involved either a sizeable amount of time, money, or both.

Gabe’s not proud to say it takes until Johan’s birthday in October to really click into place. Obviously he’s had some suspicions, or he wouldn’t have been observing Stephen’s demeanour so closely, but honestly, he does that as a matter of course — it’s easier than listening to what Stephen says about how he’s feeling, which is usually not true. And that’s if he’s even willing to talk about it, which isn't likely.

Once again, Stephen’s bitching about how hard it is to buy things for his dad, who is, admittedly, not an easy man to find gifts for, and Gabe finally sees right all the way through Stephen's ‘why is gift giving so frequent, it’s absurd’ speech to the fact that it’s honestly not hard to find a gift for someone if you don’t give a shit whether they like it.

Stephen apparently gives so many shits. Innumerable shits. So Gabe figures he can help him out a bit. Do some research, attempt to make a list.

“I doubt most of them are up to snuff, because, you know, Johan,” Gabe says, waving a hand in a way he’s concerned to notice is an accidental but dead on impression of his mother, “But maybe one or two of them will work.”

“Gabe,” Stephen says, looking up from the list.

“It’s nothing,” Gabe says. “Something to do on the road.”

“You printed it out,” Stephen says.

“Seemed easier,” Gabe says. “But I’ll email it to you as well.”

“And colour coordinated it,” Stephen says.

“It was a boring roadie,” Gabe says, though the end of it is kind of breathless, because Stephen’s crushing the air out of his lungs.

“Thank you,” Stephen mumbles, and Gabe brings a hand up to card through his hair.

“It’s nothing,” he says.

~

The packages start arriving two days later.

Gabe sighs, pushing aside two boxes with his foot so he can unlock the door, grabbing one under each arm to bring inside. One of them’s heavy for its size. Probably the knife set.

“Oh good,” Stephen says, looking up from his laptop as Gabe stacks the packages on top of all the other ones in the living room. “I was getting concerned that those weren’t coming.”

“Stephen,” Gabe says. “You can’t give your dad seventeen gifts for his birthday. He’ll just be disappointed every other year.”

And Gabe did say it was nothing, but that list took him two flights, three breakfasts, a dinner, and the recommendations of half the Canucks and most of the support staff, with dads receiving special consideration, to make.

“I can, however, not have to worry about what to get him for the next five years,” Stephen says gleefully.

Gabe sees trouble coming.

“I’m not making a list for everyone,” Gabe says.

“Gabe,” Stephen whines.

“No way,” Gabe says, taking this as a cue to retreat. “You’re on your own.”

“Gabe,” Stephen says, closing his laptop to trail him out of living room. “Please?”

~

The Canucks, unfortunately, are much less helpful when it comes to what to get middle-aged women. Gabe is disappointed but unsurprised.

“You lose a bet, Marksy?” Coach asks when Gabe brings the question to him. He’s married to one, which likely gives him an edge over the Canucks, who Gabe's learned are all a bunch of terrible sons. Well, other than Bullet. The majority of the ideas he does have on this list are just him trying to keep up with Bullet’s stream-of-consciousness.

“Something like that,” Gabe says, and adds his suggestion for a shawl. Sure, it’s already on the list, but it’s never smart to piss off the guy who controls how many minutes you get.

"My wife likes candles too," Coach says. "The ones that smell up the place."

Stephen can't stand scented candles, and Gabe's almost positive he got that from his mom, but Gabe adds it to the list anyway. It'd serve Stephen right to get a faulty list, and maybe he won't be forced to make one for Beth and Anna if he does a purposefully bad job.

Gabe waits until Coach is long gone, and then he makes sure to scribble those ideas out. Sure, he'll probably remember, and Stephen would probably notice even if he didn't, but, well.

May as well get Anouk something nice.

#fic snippet #SOTM #gabe markson #stephen petersen

[gravehags]

unholy, unholy, unholy

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI

Tags: the ministry being the catholic church's evil twin, manipulation, masturbation, confession, copia lowkey being a desperate little sex freak my beloved

Words: 5,153

Summary: You really walked right into this, you tell yourself. You can't even be mad at Copia for suggesting it.

a/n: can't believe the last thing i wrote for these losers was at christmas...damn. anyway you know how i like my non-chronological shit so this takes place somewhere in between take me apart and satan baby. i'm not done making these two dance around their feelings just yet.

~~~

“Jesus fucking Christ Almighty.”

You slam your office door shut with your hip and Cardinal Copia turns to look at you from his seat.

“Need help?”

With a grunt and a shake of your head you walk past him and set the bag of food down on your desk, heaving a deep sigh.

“Had to go on a fucking scavenger hunt because the goddamn DoorDash driver left the bag with a maintenance worker, who gave it to one of Terzo’s ghouls, who left it in a stairwell for some reason…don’t ask me how I managed to find it because fuck if I know.”

Dramatically you flop into your desk chair and give your lunch companion a look as he begins to sort out your meals with a smile.

“You know you eh…take the Lord’s name in vain quite a bit for someone who wasn’t raised in religion.”

When he passes your container of Pad see ew to you, you grin.

“Ehhh you know, the perils of being raised in a predominantly Christian society. It’s funny, the first time I said ‘Jesus Christ’ I was maybe…I don’t know nine? Ten? And my mom tersely told me ‘don’t say that’ to which I replied ‘why not?’ I don’t think she knew how to answer that question in a way that would make me care, you know? I had gone all my little life not giving a shit about Jesus, why would I now?”

Copia chuckles and cracks open his own takeaway box.

“Ah cara, you continue to stray further and further from God’s light every day. Thank Sathanas for that, hmm?”

With a smile, you clink your soda can against his and dig into your meal.

“You ever think about how fascinating your religion is, Copia?”

You prop your feet up on your desk as Copia delicately picks noodles out of his box with chopsticks. 

“Eh, how do you mean?”

“Like…you’re a Satanic cardinal. You’ve sworn your life to uphold the tenets of Satanism. You…we live at a massive complex dedicated to Satan. One of many complexes throughout the world, apparently. And yet, barely anyone knows of the Ministry’s existence. It’s wild, really.”

He makes a thoughtful noise as he chews on a particularly crunchy piece of bok choy.

“Ah, well,” he begins, setting his chopsticks down and reaching for the soda resting on the desk, “we’re trying to change that. In…subtle ways.”

“Mmm, the Ghost project.”

“Sì, the idea is we use Papa to spread our message through music - something that is accessible to many people.”

“With the hopes that you and your evil brethren can dominate the globe?” you say, scrunching your nose playfully and giving him a big wink.

“Something like that,” he smiles wryly.

“Well I’ve listened to some of the project’s music and I gotta say…big fan. I think your sinister subliminal messaging is working on me.”

“Oh?” he asks, setting down his food in order to cross his legs and give you a curious stare. “Tell me more, cara. Do I have a future sister of sin on my hands?”

You close your eyes and laugh, missing the hungry way the Cardinal watches the line of your throat as your head tilts back.

“Maybe…let’s just say I’m intrigued. How could I not be when I’m surrounded by it all the time?”

He nods, resting a gloved hand on his knee and straightening his cassock.

“Perhaps…”

You fix him with a look you know will make him lose his train of thought for a moment. Positively wicked.

“Perhaps…?”

“Perhaps,” he clears his throat, eyes darting away from yours, “you would like to attend one of our services?”

You nod gamely. 

“Is a super cool and hip youth pastor going to tell me about the ways the Devil cares about me unconditionally?”

He rolls his eyes and fixes you with an unamused stare.

“Very funny, dolcezza. Would you prefer that I have you sit with Papa Nihil while he explains the history of the Emeritus bloodline?”

You balk. The wizened Papa had a distinct dislike of you for some odd reason. You often wonder how he manages to give you such dirty looks through his cloudy eyes. You didn’t particularly care, however, as you saw the way he constantly brushed off and mistreated Copia during staff meetings. Nihil irked you to no end, no matter how much Sister Imperator liked him.

“Alright, fine, sorry. I only jest to get a rise out of you, I know how important your religion is to you. And hey, anything that has the drama and aesthetics of the Catholic Church without all the guilt and trauma has my full attention. Please don’t be mad.”

He grunts but you see the way his mustache twitches as he fights back a smile. You flutter your eyelashes a little and in a moment of boldness, take your lower lip between your teeth. The way his mismatched eyes dart to your mouth and his jaw hangs open makes you giddy.

“I’m–,” his voice comes out as a hoarse rasp, “I forgive you, cara.”

“Thank you for absolving me of my sins, Your Eminence.”

He has to know you’re doing this on purpose at this point. You’re not sure what has gotten into you today but something about the way he stares at you now makes you want to grab him by his pellegrina and haul him over your desk for a sloppy kiss. There’s a heavy tension between the two of you, not for the first time, as if all one of you needs to do is take a step forward and all hell would break loose.

“So, you want me to go to a service? What like black mass? Unholy baptism? Virgin sacrifice?”

The spell is broken and briefly your swagger flickers, wondering if you’ve crossed a line.

“Eh, maybe someday but your statement about sin made me think…perhaps confession would be more suited to you?”

Now your jaw falls open and you can feel your cheeks light up as he watches you with a smirk toying at the corners of his mouth. The tables have turned and now you’re the one left speechless.

“O-oh?” you ask, voice a little higher than normal, “so if Catholic confession is about getting your sins forgiven, then Satanic confession is…having your sins…celebrated?”

“Corretto,” he says with a generous nod, “we’ll go through each one in ah…intimate detail.”

“We?” you squeak out, stomach dropping severely, “I hadn’t realized that you would be presiding.”

“Oh sì,” he says, the smirk on his face positively devilish, “although if you’d prefer someone else…”

“No,” you say just a little too quickly, your heart pounding, “I…I don’t know how much sinning I really get up to. I’ll probably bore you to tears.”

“You might be surprised, dolcezza,” Christ the nickname sounds devious on his lips right now, “What is it they say? ‘Still waters run deep’?”

Your laugh comes out just a little too loud and unnatural and you kick yourself.

“Ha…right. We…we should probably get back to this cataloging or Sister Imperator is going to publicly execute me.”

The rest of the afternoon proceeds normally, with the two of you diligently organizing the abbey’s collection of illuminated manuscripts. When you finally part, he gives you the date, time, and directions to the chapel where the confession booth is located.

“Cara,” he murmurs as you begin to walk away, “you don’t have to do this.”

You give him a half-smile and shake your head.

“I think it will be good for me,” you say, hands behind your back as you rock onto your heels, “and besides, how could I say no to spending an evening with you?”

You make sure not to turn away until you see the full breadth of his dazed expression and by the time your back is to him and you’re walking away, there’s a loopy grin on your face. It’s not til you turn the corner and reach the staircase to your quarters the full realization of what you’ve agreed to dawns upon you. 

Oh fuck.

You don’t see Copia the next two days between his duties and your own and for that you’re extremely thankful. The date of your confession has arrived and you’re equal parts nauseated and exhilarated. Having never gone to confession of any sort before, you’re not entirely sure what to expect. You’re not ignorant - you’ve seen confession scenes in the media and have heard from friends raised in Catholicism - but what little you do know doesn’t assuage your anxiety. This was Satanic confession. A whole different beast. Your mind conjures images of blood rituals and sacrifices and being on your knees before Copia…his gloved hand tilting your chin upwards to look at him…

Christ Almighty, get your shit together.

You desperately try to, as you sternly told yourself, get your shit together but your mind is clouded the rest of your workday with positively sinful scenes of the two of you. You’re particularly fond of the one where he’s got you in his office, your skirt hiked up over your hips as you bend over his desk and he pushes himself inside you from behind. The thought of his voice in your head, calling you his sweet little nicknames as he fucks into you, makes you practically drip. The final two hours in your office are torture before you’re able to skitter back to your rooms. You’re not meeting with Copia for another few hours and you need to do something about the ache between your thighs. Impatiently, you fumble for the buttons on your blouse with one hand while pushing your skirt off with another. You must look a sight, ripping your bra off and flinging it somewhere on the floor, but all you can think about now is getting to your bed. You almost trip twice in the journey to your room, blindly stumbling over and flinging yourself on the mattress. What has gotten into you? You’ve been horny before, about Copia sure, but this? The way you’re practically whining when your hands meet your bare breasts? You feel positively feral. 

“Copia,” you breathe, fingers pinching at your nipples. You imagine his hands on you, the way the leather would warm as he strokes your soft skin.

Dolcezza. 

Fuck, you can hear it perfectly and it makes you sigh, one of your hands slowly sliding down your body to cup the heat of you. You’re sopping and time feels like it slows as you spread yourself open and slide two fingers against your engorged clit. All of your frantic rushing from earlier ceases as you twitch under your own touch, his name on your lips. You’re so sensitive right now it barely takes anything to bring you over the edge, but, you think as your orgasm wanes, it’s not quite enough. Taking a slow exhale in you slip your fingers lower and tease at your entrance. The digits glide in easily enough with the abundance of slick coming from you and languorously you begin to pump them in and out. Your eyes slide shut and you imagine it’s his dexterous fingers instead, curling inside you so you can feel every stitch and groove of his glove. 

Cara mia, he’d murmur into your ear, so wet for me. So sweet for your Cardinal, eh? You honor me.

The whimpers crawling out of your mouth are getting more frequent and higher in pitch - you know you’re close. You bring your palm flat against yourself to push on your clit as your hips continue to make little circles, driving your fingers deeper in. Your hand is aching but it doesn’t stop you from pulling another orgasm out of yourself, chanting his name. Tears pool in your eyes and slide down your temples as you sob aloud and all of a sudden it’s too much. Your body spasms on the duvet, breath coming in harsh pants as you attempt to slow the thundering of your heart. It’s not the first time you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him, by any means, but something feels…different. More charged. You’re exhausted, bone tired as you try to organize your feelings. Reaching a hand up to rub your face you turn over and look at the clock. 

5:32 PM

Your eyelids are heavy but you manage to lean over the side of your bed and locate your phone to set an alarm. Some sleep would do you good. Clear your head.

You don’t dream.

—------

Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.

Copia paces back and forth in the small, dimly lit (romantically lit, some would say) chapel. The last sibling of the evening just left and now all that remains is…you. He barely heard what the siblings were telling him this evening, so anxious was he and caught up in the thought of you soon being in their position. More than once his vision went blurry as he imagined you a breath away, separated only by the decorative wooden screen.

He was so eager for you to walk through that door, now he’s not sure. With a heavy sigh through his nose he looks down at his watch.

6:58 PM

You’re always punctual and he counts on tonight being no different. Resigned to his fate, he shuffles over to the confession booth and opens the door, slotting himself inside. Shit, his ass hurts from the hard bench, why in fuck’s name had they not added a cushion to this side like there was on the other? He’s grumbling to himself in Italian when he hears the chapel door squeak open and firmly shut. Your soft footsteps approach - you must be wearing your sneakers and not your boots for the distinct clacking sound he usually hears from you has vanished. He sucks in a breath when he hears you open your side of the booth and quietly shut it. There’s a silence between the two of you so profound that when you finally speak he jumps.

“Hey. You’re in there right?”

He makes a loud, vague noise and sees your shoulders drop through the screen. He can’t get a read on your expression but the anxiety in the air has softened with your posture. 

“Good evening,” he begins, a little stiffly. “Eh, welcome.”

You breathe out heavy through your nose.

“Copia, is this a good idea?”

He pauses and looks down to pull at a loose thread on his cuff.

“Are…are you nervous, cara?”

You let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

“Yeah, I’m fucking nervous! I’ve never even been to a regular confession let alone…this.”

“Well, we begin with the ceremonial bloodletting and–”

“Oh fuck off,” you grouse, flicking the screen that separates you. You fall silent after a moment.

“Cara, are you truly that anxious? Because we don’t have to do any–”

“I’m fine, Copia. Really. I don’t know why I'm so worked up. Fear of the unknown, I suppose,” you clear your throat and hears you crack your neck.

“Bene. Shall I go over the process with you? And remember this is a celebration. No shaming. No guilt. No wrong answers.”

You take a deep breath in and he sees you nod.

“I will start with the blessing and then we will go through the seven cardinal sins one by one. You may describe yours as briefly or lengthy as you like and we will venerate them. Once we have finished, I will close with a blessing. Then we will part. Nothing to be nervous about, eh? Are you ready?”

“Yes, please.”

“Very good,” he clears his throat and straightens his shoulders. “In nomine Padre, et Filio, et lo Spiritus Malum…we welcome this most sacred sinner into your embrace that she may revel in her transgressions against God.”

When he addresses you by name, he sees you jump.

“Let us begin with the Original Sin - pride.”

“Okay. Yeah. Pride.” There’s a few seconds of silence before he hears you softly curse. “Sorry, I should have made a list or something.”

“Take your time,” he says with a smile, simply content to be in your presence, “I have nowhere to be, cara. I am right here, ready when you are.”

He can see your eyelashes flutter as you look down and your cheeks bunch in a soft smile. Although mostly obscured, the sight still makes his heart soar. After a minute or so of silence you speak.

“Oh! Okay, uh pride. Well I was going to tell you about this anyway but…you know that little write-up I did of Satanic art in the time of the Counter-Reformation?”

“Naturalmente, it was superb.”

“Thank you. Well I thought it was too so I submitted it to a journal for publishing…and they accepted it.”

He can practically hear your grin and it makes him beam in return.

“Cara mia! Congratulazioni! You deserve nothing less! Although I hope you do not consider it a sin to rightfully celebrate an occasion such as this?”

You sigh.

“Ah, I don’t know. I may have bragged a bit too much to other people in the field. Felt a little too self-satisfied about it. So I think that would count, right?”

He scoffs.

“To Papa Frankie, maybe. To us it is a well-deserved acknowledgement of your hard work and something you have every right to be proud of. Dolcezza, even if you hesitate to celebrate yourself, know that I always will do so for you. Published in a journal, well done cara.”

He may not be able to see it in the low light of the confessional but he can picture your flushed cheeks perfectly in his mind.

“Anything else you would like to say on the matter?”

“No, that’s it.”

“Are you ready for the next?”

“Yes,” you say, with greater confidence, “let’s continue.”

“Onto the next. Envy.”

“Ah,” you seem to deflate a little and his brows knit together, “well about that. This…wow this is embarrassing.”

“No such thing as embarrassing at this moment. It’s a safe space, remember?”

“Right,” you huff, “okay well here it goes then. I see the sisters of sin every day walking around the corridors, working in the library, in the dining hall and…I envy them. I envy their bold confidence in their appearance and their sexuality.”

He’s silent for a moment, weighing whether or not he should say what he’s thinking. But you deserve to hear this.

“Confidence is not only represented by eh, wearing short skirts and high heels. I see you exude it every day when you’re bossing me around, no?”

You bark out a laugh and it lightens his heart.

“Truth be told,” he sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’m not the best person to be taking advice on confidence from. But I know how to recognize it and I see it in you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur so softly he thinks he might have made it up, “can we move on?”

“Si,” he says before clearing his throat, “next one is wrath.”

He hears you suck in a breath through your teeth.

“Oh, I’ve got a good one for this. Well…not good. It wasn’t my best moment. But it definitely fits the bill.”

He makes a noise prompting you to continue.

“You know that new painting that Sister Imperator got at auction? The one of Lilith and Faust? It arrived last week and she asked me to oversee its unboxing. I told all the siblings working with me that once the box was open the painting was to be handled with archival gloves. I had to step out of the room for a second to talk to the head librarian and when I came back…not a glove to be found and the painting was halfway out of its crate. Copia I…I lost my shit. You know me I-I don’t get mad. But the fact that they had disregarded my instruction and got their bare fingers on that canvas, then acted ignorant about the whole thing…Christ, Copia I saw red. I don’t even remember half of what I yelled at them. I had to walk out before I did something I would regret. God, I already regretted raising my voice. I didn’t report them to Sister Imperator but she found out somehow…maybe the librarian? I don’t know what their punishment was but I haven’t seen them since. Copia, it was awful. I was awful.”

“With good reason,” he replies promptly, “they should have respected your authority as a professional in the field and by not doing so not only did they potentially damage Ministry property, but they also embarrassed themselves. Idioti. Though I would have liked to have seen you all riled up.” A confession of his own - Sathanas would he have loved to see you flying at them like a demon, your claws sharp and your words sharper. The thought sends a shiver of arousal down his spine and he takes a moment to gather himself before speaking again.

“Is that all you wish to say?”

“Yes. Can we please move on?”

“Very well. Next is sloth.”

You’re silent for a moment and his heart sinks, hoping you’re not dwelling too much on your last confession. He opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“Sloth, yeah. I, uh,” you let out a giggle and he’s relieved to hear it, “none of these can get me in trouble with Sister Imperator, right?”

“No,” he says slowly, a grin curling his lips, “this is just between us.”

“Okay good. Do you remember a couple weeks back when I texted you that I wasn’t coming in because I was having a migraine?”

“Sì…”

“I was lying,” the words blurt out of you in a rush but you sound almost gleeful about it, “I was so fucking tired and so cozy in bed and it was raining outside…I just couldn’t do it. Stayed under the covers all day watching Ghost Adventures.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he playfully chides, and he can see your shoulders shake with laughter, “Signorina I am stunned. Horrified, even–”

“Oh it’s not that bad.”

“Horrified…that you didn’t tell me so I could join you. I love those ghost hunting shows.”

Your laugh makes him smile in return, “Next time we’ll play hooky together, I promise.”

He sighs deeply. “Please. I could use it.”

“I know,” you murmur, “no one in this abbey works as hard as you do.”

“Grazie, tesoro. I appreciate your kindness.”

You make a warm noise of affirmation before speaking, “What’s next?”

“Gluttony.”

“Oh Christ,” you cringe, head falling forward, “Maybe…about a month ago? Primo came by my rooms and handed me a Tupperware container of brownies. Told me to eat one per sitting with a sweet old man smile on his face. I’m not an idiot, I heard what he grows in the abbey gardens but my God the stink that came off of these things. I knew I was about to get my shit rocked. So I ate my designated brownie and just puttered around, cleaning up the kitchen. All of a sudden, I’m flat on the floor in front of my fan having an out of body experience. I don’t know how long I was lying there for but by the time I hauled myself up I was so hungry I thought I was losing it. Went through a box of cereal, a sleeve of Ritz crackers, and the next thing I knew I was in the papas’ kitchen making a bag of popcorn. Don’t remember getting there and don’t remember coming back up to my rooms but the next morning I was tucked in bed. So weird.”

He chuckles nervously as if he wasn’t the one to find you wandering the kitchens stoned out of your gourd and put you there.

“Ha yes…weird. That’s…that’s all you remember?”

“Mmhmm. Talk about the devil’s lettuce. Was pissed I didn’t have any cereal the next morning, though.”

“Let’s move onto the next, hmm?” He’s a little louder than necessary but you don’t question his suspicious behavior.

“Yeah sure. Hit me.”

“Eh, greed.”

“Hmm,” you ponder and he hears the back of your head thunk against the wood of the booth. “Damn, this is a hard one.”

“It usually is, funnily enough. You can always skip it, if you like.”

“No, no, no,” you say, leaning forward, “I’m trying to get the full set, let me cook.”

That actually makes him laugh out loud. How he adores you so.

“Greed, greed, greed,” you mutter to yourself, “Ah…greed would include covetousness, yeah?”

“Mmm, is there something or perhaps…someone you have been coveting?”

It’s a leading question and he knows this as he hears your breath quicken. It’s at this point in his fantasies where you confess your adoration for him, where he flees the confines of his side of the booth to fall to his knees before you and worship you as Sathanas intended. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he tastes the bitter tang of his paints which distracts him for a moment when he hears you say–

“Yes. There is someone.”

The silence is deafening between the two of you and his heart thuds against his ribcage, desperate for you reach over and tear it from his chest. He flexes his hands, the leather squeaking as the both of you sit with the words.

“O-oh?” he finally manages to stutter. He can see your eyes are shut and hears you loudly swallow.

“I, um,” you begin, “yeah. There is someone I’ve wanted for…a long time. I…I think he–I mean they–might reciprocate but…”

Tell her, you fool.

“Can we do the next one, actually?” your voice is so painfully soft and his stomach drops. She is doing you a kindness, his brain cruelly provides, by not telling you of who she truly wants. A sibling, perhaps. Or perhaps…one of your fratelli. The thought pains him so he nearly doubles over on himself as if being punched in the gut. Pride, envy, wrath, sloth, gluttony, greed.

Lust.

He’s startled by the sound of his own voice and you are too judging from the way you twitch. From his obscured view you look positively horrified, as if you had forgotten about this one.

“I haven’t been with anyone,” you blurt out, sounding both panicked and deeply embarrassed. He hardly recognizes his own voice as he responds with uncharacteristic calmness.

“Lustful acts…do not always have to involve another person.”

Now why the fuck would he say that? He can see your eyes widen and even in the dim light of the confessional he registers the violent blush on your cheeks.

“Oh I…oh.”

You raise a hand up to rub aggressively at your face, breathing deep.

“In that case, yes,” you finally say and his gut clenches, “I have indulged in the sin of lust.”

“A-about the person you covet?” He’s pushing it but he can’t help himself, can’t help the hope that simmers in his belly and makes his pants tighten.

“Mmm…mhmm,” you respond and you open your mouth to speak but hesitate. When you finally do, there’s a new tone to your voice - something low. Sensual.

“It’s…good. Fuck it’s good. When I think about them I-I go a little insane. I want them so fucking badly and it’s so easy to think about them and what they could do to me. What I would let them do to me.”

His fist flies to his mouth to stifle the whine that threatens to escape from him and his cock throbs underneath his cassock. He can feel your eyes on him, see your lips parted and it makes him lightheaded. Focus. Focus. Go over there and fuck her against this goddamned confessional. Focus.

“Sathanas bless you, tesoro,” he finally ekes out, his voice hoarse, “in celebrating your body a-and your desire you have made Him proud. Well done.”

A beat passes until you clear your throat. He thinks if he doesn’t tend to his dick soon he’s going to pass out.

“That’s all of them then, right? Got the full set?”

“Mmhmm. You can go if you like.”

“Didn’t you say there’s another blessing at the end?”

Satan damn your ability to vex him when he needs relief…and you…the most.

“Eh, yes. In nomine Padre, et Filio, e-et lo Spiritus Malum,” Cazzo what was the rest of it? “Ah…Sathanas bless this most sacred sinner for reveling in her transgressions against God. Nema.”

“Cool, well uh. Goodnight Copia. This has been…enlightening.”

“It certainly has,” he mutters under his breath, fingers itching to adjust his bulge. He’s not sure if you heard him or not because in an instant you’ve opened the booth and skittered down the nave to the door. He doesn’t breathe again until he hears you firmly shut it behind you and within seconds he’s fumbling for the hem of his cassock. He knows the likelihood that you were talking about him is slim but simply entertaining the thought that it could be has him unzipping his pants with vicious determination. When his cock finally, blessedly meets leather he could cry with relief. He knows he’s dribbling pre on himself but he doesn’t care - all that matters is the way you sounded confessing your lustful actions to him and how it drives his fist back and forth. Oh, how sweet you were. Tempting even when you weren’t trying to be. How he would revel in ruining you. The thought makes him double over, his unoccupied hand pressed against the wall of the booth in an attempt to stabilize himself. When he thinks of you eagerly spreading yourself open for him a broken moan escapes his lips, hips rutting upwards into his grip. What sweet little noises you would make - right there, Copia, please, that’s it - your body eager to yield to his touch. 

“Dolcezza,” he grits out, “ragazza perfetta mia. S-so good–ah–for y-your Cardinal.”

His hand is a blur as it rockets along his shaft and he grunts into the silent chapel. He thinks of you looking up at him with that heart-shatteringly kind look on your face, your lips in a soft smile and he cries out, his seed painting his grucifix in desperate spurts. His mind is fuzzy but his hand doesn’t slow, determined to wrench every last drop out of himself until his head falls back and hits the wood of the booth. Groggily, he puts himself away and lowers his cassock before stumbling out of the confessional. His spend drips onto the stone floor but it matters little - surely it’s not the first that floor has seen. All of a sudden he’s exhausted - feeling every second of his five decades - as he blows out candle after candle. When his task is complete he trudges to the door and rests his forehead on the wood for a moment. 

He thinks of your smile once more.

#cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

[maybxlle]

✧˖°. 𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

contains: a daughter of aphrodite panicking over our favorite white boy. and vise versa (jason grace x daughter of aphrodite!reader)

warnings: shitty ass writing, language, use of yn, and CRINGE. it's pretty bad, read at your own risk ⚠️

author's note: first fic! also, its probably gonna be bad (because i'm a shit writer 😃) im SO sorry about all the cuts! i cannot write. [send in requests y'all!] ALSO if you see any incorrections, no you didn't.

special mentions: thank you so much @canonfeminine for helping me come up with the joke percy says and @hopelesslyromanticshark because i kinda stole her formatting and her amazing advice (love ya coves!)

final word count: 2,098 words

now playing 𓏧 down bad by taylor swift

jason grace was walking outside cabin 13 when he heard you tweaking.

it was only 11am and it sounded like you had been up all night.

"y'all, you know that one song from taylor's new album? down bad? that's so me about superman." you sighed, "i don't even think he cares about me. not even a little."

"now i'm down bad, crying at the gym. everything comes out teenage petulance. fuck it if i can't have him. i might just die, it'd make no difference." you sang under your breath.

jason peeked in the cabin. he saw you hanging off hazel's bed upside down, piper was on the floor painting her nails, while annabeth was sitting in an armchair, reading, and hazel was at her desk, writing a letter to chiron about why they should have state of the art, gold-plated horse feed. they were only in the hades cabin because nico was with will in the infirmary. (awww <3)

"ma'am, we know all of this before. you never shut about hi-" piper began.

"SHUT THE ACTUAL FUCK UP BEFORE I SHOVE A FOOT DOWN YOUR THROAT."

annabeth made a condescending mom face. "yn," she said gently. "maybe you should go to sleep."

you just glared at her until she looked back at her book (rolling her eyes).

"maybe he does like me! he just doesn't know it yet." you triumphantly said.

piper snorted. you got up, and whacked her with your pillow until she fell over.

"ok, geez, i get it. cough cough bitch." piper um-coughed out.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME? SAYS THE WHORE!"

hazel finally looked up, innocently, from her crazy letter, "ok, girls, let's calm down?"

you and piper obliged, scowling at each other.

"anyway, bACK TO WHAT I WAS SAYING. maybe he is in love with me, he just doesn't fucking know it yet!"

"wait, isn't superman jaso-"

"BITCH SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEFORE I GO TO THE DAMNED CABIN AND GET THE FUCKING DUCT TAPE. you don't know who the fuck is lurking."

jason took that as his cue to get the fuck out of there.

our favorite white boy RAN to his boys.

he gathered them in percy's cabin. "guys, i just overheard something."

"what? that the superman theme song plays wherever you go?” percy snickered.

while percy and leo... snort-laughed, frank actually asked what happened.

"basically, i was walking past cabin 13 and the girls were in there, right? so i overhear yn saying something about 'superman' and how this song -down bad i think?- relates to them or something."

suddenly all the boys had their thinking faces on.

"what if she's in love with the actor of superman?" frank suggested.

leo had this eerie look on his face. "grow a couple of brain-cells chinese canadian baby man. she's in love with jason."

everyone just looked at leo. "ok, think about it. who the fuck else flies here? only jason. who else flies? superman."

jason thought about it. "that would make sense since piper was about to say my name when yn cut her off-"

"WHY DIDN'T YOU LEAD WITH THAT???"

"i didn't think that yn would ever like me back." he said matter-of-factly.

to be fair, jason had a crush on you since he arrived at camp. you were so pretty but you were so lively too. your personality was bright and radiant and maybe a bit crazy. just a bit though. but in a good way!

you just radiated positivity as if you were the sun. to him you could've been.

jason didn't realize he zoned out until leo was about to shove a shoe in his mouth.

"LEO?! WHAT THE FLIP ARE YOU DOING?!"

"oh i got him back guys! you like... died." leo said.

"so you were going to resuscitate me by shoving a shoe in my mouth?"

"yeah, basically!"

jason didn't know what to say to that so he didn't say anything!

"can we get back on track?"

"yes," percy answered. "we shall."

"first things first, we already know that you love yn so much from the bottom of your heart. but how are you going to tell her?" frank asked.

jason was at a loss.

"don't worry, i'll sleep on it."

"hey sparky!" you exclaim.

"oh h-hey yn." you side-eyed him, wondering if he heard your gods-awful conversation yesterday.

then you slapped yourself. (mentally?) of course he wouldn't do that! he's your sweet little superman who you are hopelessly in love with!

"do you wanna race to the top of the lava wall with me? don't be shy, you always lose!" you asked.

"um, i don't think i can today yn, sorry."

you were a little lot disappointed. you just really liked him and he fucking rejects you??? what if you tell him how you feel and he doesn't feel the same way? what if you become the laughing-stalk of camp? “k, bye jase.”

after he left you sprinted to your girls.

"BITCHES, CODE RED. WHO HAS AN EMPTY CABIN?"

hazel slowly raised her hand. "just don't mess it up again. if piper doesn't want your foot in her face, don't put it in her goddamn face. ok?"

you scowled at her before sprinting to hazel’s cabin.

you guys took your seats from yesterday.

“JASON WAS ACTING FUCKING WEIIIIRD THIS MORNING.” you glared at piper.

“what the- wHY ARE YOU GUYS LOOKING AT ME?!” piper screeched.

annabeth spoke up, “you were the one who practically said jason’s name.”

“annie. you just said it. SUPERMAN ONLY BITCHES.” you said.

“what if that did happen?” hazel asked. “he’s not a pretty, perfect, goody-two-shoes princess? like you think he is. ”

“YES HE IS SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH HAZEL.”

annabeth, piper, and hazel all just looked at each other, tired with your shit.

“I CAME HERE FOR HELP, NOT THE BITCHY JUDGING COUNCIL!”

"i think she's onto me." jason said to his little boy band.

percy looked up from his game of chess with frank and stroked his chin, "why may that be?"

jason scratched his neck sheepishly, "um, she, like side-eyed me?”

“this is yn we’re talking about. she side-eyes everybody.” leo said.

“BUT NOT ME!” jason panicked.

frank tsked at percy, “what move you gonna make?”

“oh, shut it frank. i’m invested. what else did yn say?”

“i… don’t remember.”

all the boys collectively looked at him.

“I WAS NERVOUS! WHAT IF-”

“SHUT YOUR BLOODY MOUTH!” leo exclaimed. “we need a fucking plan.”

“do you have a plan leo?” frank asked.

“i actually do, frank. gather round children.”

after some meticulous planning, and a couple phone calls, a plan was set.

a prom dress, a boom box, and taylor swift.

exciting right?

it was two days after that stupid conversation (that jason totally didn't overhear).

annabeth, piper and hazel came to drag you from your seat at the docks where you were reading an angsty romance (like the sad emo girl you were after being rejected by the love of your life).

"what the fuck do you whores want?"

"ok rude," annabeth replied, "but you have to come with us."

"we have something exciting for you!" hazel said enthusiastically.

you looked at hazel, "haze, 'excitement', does not exist for me anymore. ever since the love of my goddamned life rejected me- "

piper cut you off, "ok shut up yn. first of all, he didn't even reject you. he just said he can't climb the lava wall with you. just come with us. please don't make a big deal about it."

you looked at the girls suspiciously, "what's in it for me?"

the girls shared a look, "that's a secret. but believe me, everything's in it for you."

"i look like a fucking bratz doll!" you screeched.

"ok, so?" piper replied. "I DON'T WANNA LOOK LIKE A DOLL THAT GOT BOTCHED PLASTIC SURGERY!"

piper was doing and messing up your makeup while annabeth and hazel were looking for a good outfit.

"also miss bitchy," you said, "why am i wearing this much makeup? and why is annabeth and hazel trying so hard to find an outfit?"

piper could see that you were clearly becoming suspicious. she just gave you a small (knowing) smile, "oh don't worry about it sweet."

you were about to jump her when hazel and annabeth came holding ... a prom dress and two inch heels?

“are you shitting me? what the fuck is this?” you asked.

“yn, just put it the fuck on! no. arguments. ” piper said.

you weren’t someone to refuse looking good. (even if piper messed up your makeup.) “fine, but i’m watching y’all.”

they nodded while you went to the bathroom to change.

you came out and hazel to do the back. “ok, how do i look?” you asked, deadpan.

“yn! you look stunning!” hazel exclaimed.

you looked decent. you had an old prom dress that the aphrodite cabin just happened to have and slightly crusty heels.

“this will definitely work. he’ll be drooling all over her.” piper said to annabeth.

you were so confused, what the fuck is happening?

"excuse me? what's going on? cause i am about to shit my pants." you said.

annabeth, hazel, and piper just looked at each other and said, "don't worry about it dear." and burst out laughing. (about what? that wasn't even funny???)

suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"oh my fucking gods, who is it?!" you shout.

piper looked at you. "chill," she opened the door, "hey leo."

"why is leo here?!" she ignored you! leo pulled her outside, when she came back she nodded to annabeth and hazel.

"ok yn! time for your surprise!" hazel said, knowingly.

then, hazel blindfolded you, annabeth and piper grabbed your legs, while leo grabbed your arms. while you were screaming to satan.

next, y'all went on your merry way going gods-know-where!

suddenly you were dropped straight on the fucking ground so hard your ass hurt and all your bindings slipped off.

you were in the middle of the fucking woods. and you could distantaly hear hazel, piper, leo and annabeth running away.

really where you were dropped was gorgeous. you were at a clearing in the middle of the woods. it was around sunset so everything was lit up with the golden sunlight streaming through the leaves. you could hear the faint sound of a creek in the distance.

all of sudden you heard footsteps. you got up of your ass and cursed under your breath when you realized you have no knifes because somebody took them from you.

you turned toward the sound when you saw him.

jason, all dressed up in a matching suit.

"oh, h-hi jason. whatcha doing here?"

"oh, just waiting for a pretty girl so i can give her a dance."

you looked around confusedly. "jase, i think you went the wrong way. all the pretty girls are back at camp."

he chuckled, then pulled a boombox from his ass. "would you give me this dance milady?"

you were so so so baffled. what was happening? but your heart belonged to him. "um, sure?"

he clicked play on the boombox and 'you belong with me' by taylor swift started playing. he grabbed your hands and placed them on his shoulders. (TRUST ok? they're waltzing to "you belong with me", but its fine.

you felt like your heart was going a million miles a second but in slow motion at the same time. you were panicking but you felt so content.

the bridge was playing and you realized how much the song relates to you and jason.

you guys were best friends before you something happened two days ago.

y'all knew each other better than the back of your hand.

he would bring you ice cream when you were on your period and when you weren't.

anytime he had to go on a quest without you he brought you souvenirs.

you told each other about your crazy dreams. like when elmo was chasing you down rodeo drive.

the song ended.

"i-" you looked up.

"um-" jason cut you off.

"you go first." you were terrified, your heart pounding in your chest.

"well, i've had the biggest crush on you, yn. since i arrived, really-"

you cut him off, pulling his mouth to your own.

you were in euphoria for a minute until you both pulled away.

"soooo?" you were giddy, "what now?"

jason looked thoroughly confused, you were too. "i don't know but we'll get through it together."

your cold heart melted a little at that.

"i have a question," you asked, walking away. "did you have a crush only because of my fat ass?"

"oh my gods, yn!"

author's note: so yeah um... there it is. it sucks, i kinda hate it but i thought it was a good idea and i wanted to start writing.

#dividers by bunnysrph #⊹₊ ⋆ may’s creations #jason grace x reader #jason grace x aphrodite!reader #daughter of aphrodite

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 9/34 - bedhead

[Read on AO3]

She wakes to something poking her in the face, and blinks blearily in confusion. With furrowed brows, she forces her eyes to focus on whatever is in front of her, and comes face to face with Mulder and his index finger, which gives her one final poke in the cheek.

“You that desperate to be the first one downstairs for present time, Scully?” he asks with an amused smile, leaning over her in the La-Z-Boy, which she somehow managed to stay asleep in all night long. He’s far too cheerful for whatever time it must be in the morning, but one whiff of the air tells her why. Coffee.

He waves a cup of the steaming liquid right below her nose, and it snaps her to attention within seconds, which draws a chuckle out of him. He gives her space to sit up and stretch her aching back before pressing the mug into her hands, ensuring that she has a handle on it before letting go.

“Does it count as being first if you’re asleep?” he asks. “Because if not, me and your nephew have you beat for first and second place. Bill’s been down, too.”

She’s too tired to worry about that. Instead she takes a long draw from her coffee cup and scans over to the tree, where countless beautifully wrapped gifts lay in wait for one terror of a two-year-old and the rest of the family to open them.

“You made coffee?” she asks, her voice raspy from disuse. She wonders what a sight she must be, with mussed bedhead and hair that had been allowed to air-dry after her shower the night before.

“Hope your mom doesn’t mind,” he answers. “Figured I’d try to have a peace offering ready in case Bill came down. I think it paid off.”

Just then, her brother enters the room, glancing over at her disapprovingly but saying nothing. Matthew trails after him with enough energy that Scully half wonders if he’d had a taste of the coffee too, and he plops himself in front of the tree, excitedly asking when he can start opening the presents.

Mulder stands and heads back to the couch, sitting on it casually and taking a sip of his own coffee. The quilt and pillow are nowhere to be seen, so he must have been up for a while. His sleep patterns will never make sense to her.

“Something wrong with your room, Dana?” Bill asks, standing up against the wall despite the open space on the couch next to Mulder.

“Couldn't sleep,” she answers, her tone one of warning should he continue this line of questioning. Thankfully, he gets the hint and shuts his mouth.

Once the caffeine starts to kick in, she excuses herself to go freshen up. When she returns, she casts a glance at the recliner that had served as her bed, and instead opts to sit by her partner. She sips from her refilled coffee mug, basking in the comfortable feeling of an early morning with the people she cares about most in the world all under one roof. Mulder is all soft edges this morning, still clad in flannel pajamas with bedhead that he'd done a poor job of straightening out. There seems to be a permanent contented smile on his face, though, as he watches her nephew agonize over not being able to open a present yet. Maybe he’s remembering a time when he had such zeal for the holiday.

Eventually the remaining Scully family makes their appearance, Tara and Maggie making a quick detour to the kitchen for their own daily dose of caffeine with Charlie right behind them.

“Morning, Fox,” Maggie says cheerfully before stooping to press a kiss to Dana’s cheek. “Sleep well?”

“Fine,” he answers truthfully.

If Bill seethes, Mulder takes no notice of it.

“There's the big bad feds,” Charlie teases, coming up behind them and messing their hair with each of his hands. “How was 'work'?”

Scully shoots him a look, effectively silencing him with her big sister sense of authority. He chuckles and takes a seat on the ground by the fireplace. 

With the entire family present and accounted for, Matthew is finally given the go-ahead for tearing into the gift wrapping, exclaiming excitedly with each toy he unwraps from Santa Claus.

“Pass me that green and white one, Matty,” Tara says, pointing to a small box under the tree and relaying it to her mother-in-law. Soon enough, there's a present in every person's hand, Mulder included. He gets some nice tie clips from Maggie and a box of dried meats from Bill and Tara (mostly just Tara, if Scully had to guess). Even Charlie had a package of nice socks to give him, probably a last-minute purchase, but appreciated nonetheless.

Mulder's beaming smile tears at her heart, and she wonders how long it has been since he's had a proper Christmas like this. Surrounded by family, excitement and cheer filling the air. She thinks she knows the answer, and it fills her with sadness. 

“Is there a present for Fox from you under here, Dana?” Maggie asks, now kneeling beside her grandson at the foot of the tree.

“Mulder and I already exchanged gifts, Mom,” she answers.

Exchanged a few other things too, she thinks. Most notably: vows.

Her mother looks up with interest. “Oh? What did he get you?”

Scully blushes. She hadn't been prepared to actually answer this question, though she probably should have been. “Oh, um… Jewelry,” she says, resisting the urge to touch the item in question under her shirt.

“Classic,” Charlie says, reaching out to fist bump Mulder.

“Actually, Scully, there is a little something else under that tree for you,” Mulder cuts in.

After last year's ‘we're not exchanging gifts’ gift exchange, she's not surprised, but she gives him an exasperated look anyway. “I thought you might say that,” she says, standing and grabbing a nicely wrapped package from behind the tree and handing it to him. Maggie finds the one Mulder snuck under there and hands it to her daughter, smiling at the two of them as they begin to tear open the paper.

For Mulder, there's a stack of crossword puzzle booklets and other travel sized games—sudoku, mad libs, a deck of cards, even a magnetic pocket-sized chess and checkerboard set that they can take on trips.

“Hey, no more I Spy and tic tac toe!” he says excitedly, flipping through one of the booklets. 

With as much as they travel—long hours in cars and planes and airports and motels with spotty satellite TV—they've pretty much used up all their options for passing the time. Their only deck of cards is somehow missing eight cards and has an extra two of hearts that they're not sure where it came from. A replacement pack is long overdue.

“I can't wait to wipe the floor with you at chess,” he says. “Thanks, Scully.”

She returns her attention to the box in her lap, free of paper but otherwise still unopened. 

“Go on, open it!” Tara says impatiently, craning her neck to watch as Dana lifts the lid off and peels back the tissue paper inside.

“Oh, Mulder,” she breathes, lifting a heavy book from the box. The front cover is plain, no lettering or images on it, but she can tell what it is in an instant.

A scrapbook.

She opens it to the first page, wondering what he could have possibly put inside. It's sparse—there aren't that many pictures of them together, after all—but he's scrounged up some that must have been taken at crime scenes, and one she vaguely remembers Frohike taking the first day she met the Gunmen. 

But perhaps more telling than the few pages that are filled in are the empty pages at the back, just waiting to be added to. She knows what he means by giving her this, and it causes a lump to form in her throat. 

“You look so serious, Dana,” her mother says, glancing over her shoulder at a photo of her and Mulder in their FBI jackets looking over some evidence. 

“Well, yeah, I'm at work, Mom,” she laughs, thankful for the distraction to keep her from crying in front of everyone.

“That's just the face she makes when she's about to refute my theory with cold hard science,” Mulder jokes, leaning back proudly on the couch. 

She looks at him, blinking away the tears threatening to fall.

“Mulder, this is… I didn't get you enough, your gift is so thoughtful…”

He shakes his head. “Scully, the fact that you even want to spend time with me long enough to play any of the games you got me is enough of a gift,” he says. “Seriously. You've given me a lot more than you think you have, I'm just trying to catch up.”

Charlie makes an exaggerated pouty face at her, which she catches out of the corner of her eye. He's lucky she's being watched by everyone else, otherwise she'd throw a pillow at him.

“Well, thank you,” she says. If they were alone, she'd hug him, but… Well, she's already uncomfortable with the amount of attention she's getting. She doesn't need to make it worse. She hopes he can see how grateful she is in her eyes. For now, she closes the book and sets it aside.

She scoots just that little bit closer to him on the couch while the others continue opening the last few presents, his leg brushing against hers ever so slightly. Thank you, she’s saying. This means the world to me.

-.-.-

“Hey,” Charlie says from behind him, startling Mulder out of a kind of daze.

He tears his eyes away from where Scully is standing on the other side of the room, making polite conversation with some of her mother’s friends after dinner. Charlie is a fair bit shorter than he is, but still taller than his sister, if not by much. 

“I took a look through that scrapbook you got Dana,” he continues. “I hope you don’t mind.”

He kind of does, actually, but he supposes he never made it clear one way or another, so he can’t really blame her family for being curious. It’s just… well, personal. He’s not used to sharing her with others, much less letting others see into the hard-to-understand relationship they have. It makes him feel oddly exposed.

He shrugs in response, not exactly sure what else to say.

Charlie doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort. “Living so far away, I just feel like I miss out on the finer details of her life, you know?” he says. “Sometimes I forget she’s really an FBI agent out there waving a gun around and solving crimes.”

“You disapprove?” Mulder asks, ready to defend her.

“Not at all,” Charlie is quick to assure. “I’m glad she has a partner to look out for her, though.”

For all the good that has done, Mulder thinks. Still, it’s nice to hear he’s got one Scully brother on his side, even if it is the one his partner doesn’t get to see that often.

“I saw the picture of that little girl you put in,” the younger man adds, dropping the volume of his voice a few decibels. “Bill tried to explain it to me, once. I don’t think I ever really grasped how much she would look like family.”

Mulder fidgets at the uncomfortable turn in the conversation. It really isn’t his place to talk about it. It’s his sister Charlie should be speaking to. But then, if this prevents Scully from having to face such unpleasant memories during her nice family Christmas, then he’d gladly endure whatever questions her brother might have.

“I don’t think your mother or brother really understood it either,” he says, trying his hardest not to sound accusing. “But in their defense, it really was an unusual situation.”

“Let me guess, Bill completely pretended it wasn’t happening,” Charlie says, casting a glance in his brother’s direction. “Figures. I’m sure he didn’t make it easy on Dana.”

Charlie must have hoarded the entire Scully family’s stockpile of emotional intelligence, that’s the conclusion Mulder is coming to. Finally someone besides him thinks to ask how Scully handled everything.

“What has Scu– What has Dana told you?” he asks, quickly correcting himself. He doesn’t want to be the one to reveal information Scully would rather keep private, so he thinks he ought to check.

“I know she can’t have children, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Charlie says, taking a swig from his bottle of beer. “She never did explain why, but that’s not really what matters, is it?”

“You’re a good brother,” Mulder states. 

No, it shouldn’t matter. And that’s exactly what had bothered him about Bill’s reaction so much. Who cares if you understand why or how things are happening? The important detail is that your loved one is suffering and you need to be there for them. It’s a relief to hear that Charlie seems to understand this, even if his brother doesn’t.

“It’s a long story,” he answers with a sigh, “but she loved Emily. Would have raised her if the courts had let her, and if—” He trails off, letting the words hang in the air.

“You were there, weren’t you?”

Mulder nods. “Flew out and crashed your family’s Christmas as soon as I knew what was going on.”

“What was she like?” he asks next.

“Dana?” Mulder asks, brows furrowed.

“No, Emily.”

Oh.

Mulder bites down on his lip, thinking back two years to the few days he spent with Scully and her mini-me.

“She was quiet,” he answers. Honestly, he barely heard her say a word. But her genetics were unmistakable, and not just in her appearance. “She was a lot like Dana.”

Charlie is silent for a moment, probably digesting all that he had learned in the last few minutes. It’s a heavy topic, and one Mulder himself doesn’t really like thinking about, if he can help it. This Christmas has already been leaps and bounds better in every way possible, and he wants to keep it that way.

“Thanks for being there for her,” Charlie says finally. “Thanks for taking care of her. She needs someone like you around.”

Mulder inexplicably feels himself tearing up at his words, and forces the emotion back down before he can give himself away. 

“We take care of each other,” he corrects, glancing again to his partner across the room. 

His vows from yesterday echo in his ears, and for the first time, he wishes her family had been there to hear them. The marriage may be a legal ploy for practical reasons, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t intend to keep his promises. He meant every word he had spoken, and now part of him wishes her family knew just how much.

-.-.-

Dana had forgotten how draining it could be to be surrounded by friends and family for hours on end. It's hard to believe there was a time when social situations like this invigorated her rather than drained her, but she remembers her university days well. 

Still, the company is pleasant, and it affords her the unique opportunity to see Mulder in a different, more relaxed setting, something she'd scarcely known she was missing all these years.

At the moment, he is crouched down in the hallway beside Matthew, each with a wind up toy car in hand that they've been racing back and forth for the last fifteen minutes or so.

For as much as she believed him when he told her he wanted to be a father, it never really felt real until this very moment.

The way he interacts with Matthew is so natural, despite the fact that the boy is the spawn of one Bill Scully, Jr. He talks to him in hushed, conspiratorial tones, grinning when the two-year-old's car reaches the self-proclaimed finish line before his does. It brings to mind Emily, and the way he had tried to make her laugh when he met her. The way he cradled her in his arms when they had to take her to the hospital, burning up with fever.

Her partner, who chases aliens for a living and has been held hostage in Siberia, gently holding a tiny, sick girl in a patterned nightgown… It sometimes still feels like a dream that it had happened at all, though that dream had quickly turned into a nightmare.

Mulder's eyes shine playfully now and she can see his mouth moving animatedly. He points to the other side of the wood-floored hallway and Matthew quickly crawls over there with his toy car, evidently changing up the parameters of the game they're playing.

“One, two, THREE!” Mulder counts aloud, and he and Matthew both wind up and release their cars at the same time, watching with delight as they crash together in the middle.

He will be a good father. A great one, even. She'd known it when she asked him for help with IVF, and she knows it even more now. Not once has she wondered if his difficult childhood would stand in the way of him and parenthood. If anything, it would make him better. She knows he'll do everything he possibly can to be the father he never had.

She only hopes she can provide him that opportunity, one way or another.

“So, Dana,” her mother’s friend Gloria speaks, coming up beside her to watch. “Any plans to settle down? I know your work keeps you busy these days, but you're not getting any younger, dear.” She finishes with a chuckle, taking a sip from her glass of eggnog, oblivious to how out of touch her question had been.

The words aren't meant with any malice, Dana knows, but still she wonders how these older women come to the conclusion that that's an acceptable question to ask. Even if she wasn't struggling with infertility and extraordinary life circumstances, that kind of inquiry always rubbed her the wrong way.

She forces her eyes away from Mulder and her nephew, focusing instead on Gloria.

“Oh, um,” she starts awkwardly, not exactly sure how to answer. “Not right now,” she says, even though it's becoming more of a lie with each passing day. Uncertain plans are just as good as no plans at all, she thinks in order to justify her omission. After all, if things don't pan out, she'll be back to square one.

Or almost square one, she mentally corrects herself. There's still the matter of being secretly married to her FBI partner.

Besides, they're keeping everything under wraps for now. If she's not telling her own mother, she's certainly not about to tell a woman she's only met a handful of times.

“Well, I know this young man at the YMCA– Brendan,” Gloria continues, heedless of Dana's discomfort. “He's a swim instructor. Veeeery handsome.”

Dana smiles politely, but otherwise is careful not to give any indication that she might be interested. An accidental blind date setup due to miscommunication is the last thing she needs right now, and honestly, the last thing she wants. She's happy with how things are with Mulder, even if they're not actually a couple. They're making plans for a future together, that's all that matters. Though the exact specifics of that future are hazy, one thing is certain: She won't be alone. Not anymore. 

And neither will he.

Looking around at the house full of people, love a palpable force flowing around them, she wonders again why they didn't do this sooner.

-.-.-

“Thanks, Mrs. Scully. This was really great,” Mulder says, carrying a bag loaded with containers of leftover food and desserts. He waves at the little boy behind Maggie, held up in the arms of his father at the door. “Bye Matt, thanks for hanging out with me.” Matthew is suitably worn out from all the excitement and playtime, which Dana is sure her brother can't begrudge Mulder for, but he still waves a tired goodbye. If anything, Bill should be thanking Mulder. The youngest Scully will be out like a light probably before they even leave the neighborhood.

“Bye, Mom,” Dana says, pressing a kiss to her mother's cheek and giving her one last hug goodbye. 

“Bye, sweetheart. I'll talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Merry Christmas!”

With a final glance over her shoulder, she and Mulder walk down the driveway to their car, alone for the first time in almost 24 hours.

“Your nephew is pretty cool, Scully. Did you know he thinks aliens have pet dinosaurs?” he says as they reach the vehicle, simultaneously opening the doors and sliding into their respective seats.

“How on earth did that come up, Mulder?” she asks, casting a doubtful glance to her left as she buckles.

“I didn't bring it up, he did!” he replies defensively, his smile only serving to make him seem less credible. “No, seriously!”

“I'd better not get a call from Bill asking what kind of stories you've been filling his son's head with.”

“Every little boy thinks about aliens and dinosaurs, Scully,” he says, laughing. “He offered up that piece of information unprompted, I swear!”

Scully chuckles, his earnest expression combined with his raised right hand somehow striking her as utterly ridiculous.

Our child will have no shortage of imagination with Mulder for a father, she thinks, and the thought causes her heart to clench in her chest.

“Just drive, Mulder,” she says, facing forward to conceal her smile.

He drives.

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

[soulaires]

I know your requests are closed but I just wanted to send this in incase I forgot, anyways imagine Aaron taking care of Baby Dior (like when she was 3 months and still a baby) while reader was gone🤭🤭🤭

I LOVE ALL YOUR FICS BTW🌸✨🤍🤍🤍

My love mine all mine.

PAIRINGS — girl dad!Aaron Warner x mom!Reader

SYPNOSIS — you are in a (much needed) day out with your friends so daddy aaron took over.

OR

baby dior and daddy aaron bonding time <3

ⓘ :: domestic fluff, married life, fluff, girldad!warner, baby dior and aaron bonding, dior is a menace in bath time, NOT proofread so there will be errors …

RiE’s 💌; hope you guys liked this one! I still don’t take requests at the moment but I wanna get back to writing soon so here is something for y’all since its been awhile 🫂 btw did u guys missed me ☹️

As you kissed your husband goodbye and waved at your baby girl, Dior, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. Maybe you should just cancel and stay home with Aaron and Dior, you thought, feeling guilty at the prospect of leaving them alone. "Maybe I should just cancel and stay ove—"

"My love, we will be okay," Aaron interrupted gently, his reassuring voice cutting through your doubts. "Go and have fun, sweet love. You deserve a rest, hm?"

"But—" you began, only to be silenced by Aaron's lips pressing softly against yours. "Love," he warned.

It was your first girls' day out since Dior was born, and while you were eager for some much-needed relaxation, leaving your husband and daughter behind felt strangely weird.

“Okay, okay..” you wield with a smile, planting another soft kiss on Dior's forehead and then Aaron's lips. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

"We'll be fine, sweetheart," Aaron reassured you, his warm smile melting away any lingering worries. "Go enjoy your day with the girls. Dior and I have got this."

He smiled, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “Everything will be alright, darling" he assured you, his eyes filled with confidence. "We'll have a daddy-daughter day and make it an adventure, won't we, little miss?”

Dior, who had been playing with her plushies nearby, let out a happy gurgle in response, seemingly oblivious to the conversation happening around her.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between the desire to spend time with your friends and staying over with your little family. But as you looked into your husband's eyes, you knew that everything would be okay.

With a final kiss, you stepped out of the door, feeling a mix of excitement and guilt tugging at your heartstrings. As you drove away, you couldn't shake the feeling of leaving a piece of your heart behind, but you pushed the thoughts aside, determined to make the most of your day out.

Meanwhile, back at home, Aaron cradled Baby Dior in his arms, “guess it's just you and me huh, princess?" he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss on her rosy cheek.

With Dior snuggling in his embrace, Aaron set about their day, his heart overflowing with love and determination to make it special for his precious daughter.

Yeah, he got this. He did not read some books and took some lessons about being a first time dad for nothing.

He'll make you proud.

After playing with his daughter, he prepared their lunch and dior’s milk. He hummed a soft tune as he prepared a bottle of milk, expertly measuring out the formula and testing its temperature with practiced hands. He then made the baby’s food.

–

As Dior suckled contentedly on her bottle, Aaron gazed down at her with adoration, marveling at the miracle of her existence. "You're growing so fast, baby," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her forehead. "But no matter how big you get, you'll always be my little angel."

His daughter just continued with her thing, completely oblivious to her fathers rambling. “Alright, baby I will just wash my hands, hm? Be a good girl for daddy okay? I will be back ” it only took him approximately 10 seconds before running back to his daughter.

10 seconds and it was a mess.

Oh well.

10 seconds and his lovely princess decided to express her creativity by splattering milk and baby foods all over herself and the surrounding area, much to Aaron's amusement.

“Well, it looks like we've got a little artist on our hands,” Aaron chuckled, wiping away the mess with a cloth and earning a gurgling giggle from Dior in response.

With the mess cleaned up, Aaron scooped up Dior in his arms and made his way to the bathroom for her bath. Bath time with Dior was always an… adventure, dare he say. As Aaron filled the tub with warm water and added a few drops of baby wash, Dior squirmed and her chubby legs kicked.

"All right, little one, time to get cleaned up," Aaron said with a strained smile, lowering Dior into the water and waiting for the impact.

Aaron Warner does love his daughter but hell, Dior was no saint nor angel when it comes to bath time she absolutely hated it, and she made it his tiny life’s mission to make sure her parents dreaded it as well.

—

“Princess, please, just cooperate with me," Aaron pleaded, his voice tinged with exhaustion as he struggled to keep his squirming daughter still in the warm bathwater.

Aaron's confidence dissolved into thin air the moment his baby's cries pierced the air, reverberating through the tiled bathroom. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him, unable to bear the sound of her distress.

Oh, God. It hurts to hear her cry.

Warner honestly couldn’t believe something could cry as much as Dior without passing out, the wriggling baby wailing her heart out in an attempt to persuade her dad to release her. “I’m sorry, baby girl, but you brought this upon yourself,” he sighed, gently massaging bubbles onto his daughter's belly as her tiny feet kicked water at him, clearly attempting to escape.

Searching for a solution, Aaron hastily reached for a bottle of soapy liquid, praying that its mysterious contents would alleviate his daughter's distress.

As if by magic, Dior's cries ceased the moment the scent of her mother's soap enveloped her, her sobs replaced by contented murmurs and coos, her tension gradually melting away.

Finally calm in her dad's embrace, Dior succumbed to the soothing influence of the soap, her grip tightening around Aaron's finger as her little nose wrinkling and eyelids occasionally fluttering open and closed.

Understanding his daughter's longing for her mother, Aaron tenderly bathed her, silently empathizing with her yearning as he washed her delicate skin, taking advantage of her drowsiness to ensure a thorough cleansing.

“mhm..” Aaron hummed, finally understanding the cause of his daughter's untamable mood. “You just miss mama, huh?” he murmured, gentle as he picked up a sponge, running the soft material along the cooing baby’s chest and belly, taking advantage of the sleepy mood that seemed to come over the little girl.

“Yeah.. me too, baby” was all he could think to say, honestly relating to the fit his daughter had thrown over missing her mother, Warner feeling the same way—well, minus the screaming and crying.

Finishing the bath, Aaron leaned down to press a kiss on the sleepy dior forehead. "Let’s get you to bed," he whispered, hand cupping some water to rinse her and dressing her up in her pajamas before he gently lifted her to his chest, head resting against his shoulder.

—

Aaron went a b-line to diors room as he cradled Dior in his arms, singing her a lullaby to lull her to sleep.

"Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?

So, when I die, which I must do

Could it shine down here with you?."

Dior, nestled against Aaron's chest, seemed to respond to the comforting melody, her breathing slowing as she drifted closer to sleep. Her tiny hand grasped at the fabric of Aaron's shirt, seeking solace in his warm embrace.

"Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love mine, mine, mine

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love mine, all mine, all mine

My baby, here on earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

So, when it comes to be my turn

Could you shine it down here for her."

Aaron swayed as he gently swing his daughter to sleep, humming while caressing her chubby cheeks.

“Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love mine, mine, mine

Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love mine, all mine

Nothing in the world is mine for free

But my love mine, all mine, all mine”

As the last notes of the song faded away, Aaron pressed a tender kiss to Dior's forehead, With a contented sigh, he continued to sway gently, the rhythm of his movements lulling Dior into a peaceful slumber.

Aaron settled her into her cozy crib for a nap, carefully tucking her in with a soft blanket and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Sweet dreams, my darling," he whispered, his heart swelling with love as he watched her drift off to sleep.

With Dior peacefully resting, Aaron took the opportunity to tackle some chores around the house, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the baby monitor to ensure Dior was safe and sound. He washed the dishes with practiced efficiency, tidied up the living room, and even managed to squeeze in a load of laundry, all while stealing glances at the monitor every few minutes to check on his sleeping daughter.

As the day wore on, Aaron found himself counting down the minutes until your return, eager to share with you the precious moments he and Dior had shared together. He imagined your face lighting up with joy.

Finally, the sound of the front door opening brought a smile to Aaron's face, and he hurried to greet you, his heart brimming with love and excitement.

“Welcome home, my love,” he said, enveloping you in a warm embrace and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Did you have fun, baby?”

You nodded, your eyes shining with happiness as you gazed at Aaron. "It was wonderful, but I missed you both terribly," you admitted, your voice tinged with emotion.

"We missed you too, my love," Aaron replied, his gaze softening as he looked at you and inhaling the familiar scent of home.

As you pulled away from the hug, you couldn't help but notice the absence of your daughter. "Where's Dior?" you asked.

"She's already fast asleep in her room," Aaron explained, gesturing towards the hallway.

"Well, I hope she didn't give you too much trouble," you joked, grateful for Aaron's patience and love.

"Not at all," Aaron replied with a chuckle. “except for the bath part. a nightmare, honestly” he joked, while you softly giggle, beautiful eyes shining and ge can't help but stare at it with adoration.

you are home. home with him. home with dior.

🏷 :: @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan @nomournersonefuneral @corpsedoll777 @lilyevansstudygroup @arinexeisnotworking @reminiscentreader @seaveysoceaneyes @luvv4evaabaemh @kindnessspreads

To be added, please let me know! And make sure your account can be tagged!! (accs that have line on it can't be tagged bc of their settings)

#reader insert #shatter me series #shatter me #aaron warner x reader #riewrites 🫀 #aaron warner #aaron warner x you #aaron warner anderson #aaron warner x y/n #girl dad aaron warner #aaron warner imagine #dad!aaron warner #dad aaron warner #The Warner Family 🪐

[smoshyourheadin]

Maybe u could do a Spencer besties to lovers? Like they've known each other a long time yk

Thankssss no pressure if ur busy ofc <3

It’s Always Been You

cw: reader has a boyf who she breaks up w bc he’s an alchaholic!! don’t read if you aren’t comfortable, i’ll catch you another time ml 💛

a/n: EEK IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT ANON 🫶🫶💛💛 also im taking this as smosh spence not cm spence so feel free to re-request if you’d like <33 ps, ive written that he listens to pink floyd here so thats who syd barrett is if you don’t know :))

requests r open!!

///

pairing: spencer agnew x fem!reader

florida, 2002

you and spencer were scurrying around in the freshly mown grass of his backyard, playing tag.

“you didn’t get me, you cheated!” you exclaim, ducking as he reaches out to get you again, tumbling to the floor.

“did too!” spencer retorts, his grazed knees dropping to the floor so he can lean over you. he meets your eyes, pulls a tongue, and hoists himself back up to run to his tyre swing.

all 11 years you’d known, you’d known them with spencer. your moms had been great friends since way before you were born, being in the same book club. or was it an art night? you didn’t exactly know, but you did know that because your moms were best friends, so were you and spencer.

as you sprung back up to your feet, your moms watched your antics through the kitchen window.

“whoever can swing the other the highest gets to have the last red popsicle!” he yelled as you ran over

“oh you’re so on!”

your hands gripped the tyre and you pushed like your life depended on it.

“y’know,” your mom said “one day, they’re going to end up together.”

his mom looked over at yours and smiled,

“i’d be surprised if they didnt honestly!”

los angeles, 2024

you walk through the door of your apartment, and you kick the door closed behind you. your bag slides off your shoulder, and you throw your keys onto the dresser next to the door. you only manage a long groan before flopping onto the couch.

“heya, charlie!” you scrunch your face up as you feel your dog’s cold, wet nose press against your cheek, as he gently wags his tail

“i missed you too boy, work was so tiring today.” you work at smosh with spencer, and have done for the past seven years after you left your job at another channel to join him. it was basically the best decision you’d ever made, every day filled with laughs; practically just a 24/7 hangout. you work with spencer on smosh games, but rarely ever go on camera, even if spencer’s there. you enjoy it anyway though.

you sit up and scratch behind his ears. he wiggles his body contently at your fondness. and then your stomach growls. it made sense, it was currently 6:43pm, and you last ate at noon, so you get up and drag yourself to make some mac n cheese.

as the pasta boils your phone starts ringing.

its james.

rubbing your hands over your face, you answer the dreaded call from your boyfriend james.

“heyyy~ sweetheart, y’doin okay? you were hic bein’ a bit of a bitch today, didnt answe my calls, what, you hate me or sumn?” he rambles, most of his words just slurring off.

“james, are you drinking again?” your voice is agitated, hearing the chattering and low bass of a bar in the background.

you know he has a problem, and you’ve tried to get him to stop so many times. but you just can’t. he just won’t take your help.

“wha- i mean- well- no- but um- well y’r just gonna be mad at me like y’allways are” he stammers, not wanting to tell you the truth.

“no, i’m done with this. you say all this to me when you’re drunk, and then act like everything is fine! i’m sick of it! you spend so much time at the bar, and its the only place we ever go on dates, and i just end up babysitting! so yeah i am mad! but for the last time! fuck you james.”

you hang up.

you start to tear up, the knot in your chest tight as your emotions come rushing to you, face heating up as tears begin to fall. the hissing of something behind you snaps you out of it.

“shit!” you rush over to to your stove, where the water from your pasta spills over the sides, the flames licking at the bottom of the pan.you take it off the heat and turn it off. it looks done anyway. you add some butter, and, of course, cheese. stirring gently, you sob.

james was so nice to you, always showering you with gifts and praise and love. but it was all for nothing. he just didn’t love you like he loved drinking in the end.

pouring the mac n cheese into a bowl, you call spencer.

“hey lemon! how’s my favourite person this fine evening?” you smile at the nickname.

florida, 2007

“spencer, you’re a boy. why are you so complicated? i mean, its just annoying!” you walk into his bedroom after his mom let you in, clearly pissed off. being 16 isn’t fun, especially when boys you like are rude to you.

“what did he do?” spencer doesn’t look up from his computer, just slightly turn his head.

“he said that i must eat lemons because of how bitter i am. i mean come on!” you lie on his bed and watch him play runescape.

“lemon… hmph” he just smiles and continues whatever he was doing on his game.

“what? nothing to say? ugh! you suuuuuck!”

los angeles, 2024

“yeah, i mean, no. i broke up with james.” you sniffle, and eat a forkfull of your food, elbows resting on the cold marble of the kitchen island.

“i mean- um- yeah thats horrible…” he says

“you’re allowed to celebrate, i know you hated him. and so did everyone. but still. im fragile right now!” you giggle through your gentle tears

“well, i mean, honestly? glad he’s gone. he sucked dude. not sure why you didn’t do it sooner. well, one positive to come of this, your pillows won’t stink of beer next time i nap at yours!” he replies, clearly happy for you.

“yeah,” you chuckle at the memory of spencer falling asleep on your bed, then completing his hair smelt like budweiser “that is true.”

“all seriousness though, are you okay?” his voice is genuine this time, filled with concern.

“no, not really. it’s just… different i guess. but, not much has changed y’know? like, it already felt like he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore…” you begin to ramble for at least 20 minutes, only to be met with the occasional ‘mhmn’ and ‘yeah’ from spencer. mid sentence, there’s a knock at your door.

“oh one sec, someone’s here.” you get up from your table and swing the door open to see a very sympathetic looking spencer, two target bags in his hands.

your jaw is on the floor. you were just crying to him over the phone, and he’d stayed whilst going out to get what you can only assume is things like sour patch kids and vanilla ice cream, which you could see at the top of the bag. your favourites.

“girls night?” he smirked and raised the bags at his sides.

all you can do is smile ear to ear, and wrap him in a tight hug. he leaned into you, basking in your sweet citrusy perfume.

“you’re my favourite, spencie.” you say into his shoulder.

as you both walk inside, charlie comes bounding over to spencer, his favourite person.

“who’s a good boy! charlie is!” spencer was now crouchedby your kitchen island, fussing over your dog as you walked to put on something more comfortable. you slid on some track pants and an old atari hoodie. walking back into your kitchen, spencer has unpacked the bags, and is creating his favourite conconction, The Agnew Sundae. basically the most sickeningly sweet ice cream ever. his dad made it for you both in the summer, and it consisted of:

vanilla ice cream

chocolate syrup

caramel sauce

whipped cream

sprinkles

mini marshmallows

chocolate chips

m&ms

and some crushed oreos to finish.

god, you know you’re going to regret this later, but boy was it a good way to cheer you up.

also strewn on the counter was his switch and copy of animal crossing, a few of his dvd’s for you to watch, and his mom’s chocolate chip cookies.

“spencer, how on earth did you get these? your mom lives across the country!” you hold up the baggie, and raise an eyebrow.

he looks up from his ice cream assembly station, and smirks.

“a magician never- ow!”

you cut him off by lightly jabbing his arm

“okay okay, she visited not to long ago - when she took you to the mall? and she gave me these to freeze and keep for an important event. i think she’d agree this is important.” you cant help but smile at his remark. you missed you moms.

“i’ll have to ring her later to thank her.” you say.

the night goes on, and you and spencer sit on the couch under a blanket watching barbie princess charm school. because what else are you going to watch?

as the movie goes on, and the effects of the agnew sundae kick in; you were dozing off on his shoulder. towards the end of the movie, so does he. he drifts off, comforted by your soft hair occasionally brushing against his face.

you stir awake, the sun beaming into your eyes through your semi-open blinds, and you’re hit by a wave of memory. everything that happened last night comes flooding back.

james’ call.

spencer’s call.

spencer showing up for you.

at the latter, you smile slightly. you prop yourself up on the sofa, and notice the absence of spencer’s warmth by you. frowning slightly, you walk into the kitchen.

“morning sleepyhead” his sweet voice rings through the room

“hey. i thought you’d’ve gone home”

“no, im not that mean! who do you take me for?” he retorts, his attention turning back to the pancakes on the stove.

“pancakes? what time is it?” you come up behind him, putting your chin on his shoulder.

“yeah, and it’s about 10:30.” he leant his head on yours, flipping one. you had to admit, they look pretty good.

“10:30!?” you lift you head in surprise, looking at your phone “shouldn’t we be in work?”

“nope, i called us in sick. said my mom was having surgery. which she is, but i made it sound dramatic so we could stay off.” he looks at you, and smiles slightly.

“well, send her my love! i think i’ll go get dressed now.” he hummed, and you left the room.

opening your closet, you pick out a yellow baggy t-shirt and some grey sweatpants. you pull on some fluffy socks, and slip on a zip up hoodie. walking back out into the living room, spencer walks in with two plates piled high with pancakes, drenched in syrup and strawberries

“so,” you say, a fork full of pancakes in your mouth. “whats the plan for today?”

he looks over at you, and shrugs slightly. “not sure, we could go to the book store you like?”

“ah, you know the way to a girl’s heart“ you put a hand over your chest and giggle a bit.

a few hours later, you walk into the store, door creaking just a bit as a small brass bell chimes overhead. the air is filled with a comforting mix of old paper, leather bindings, and a hint of freshly brewed coffee from the corner cafe that you and spencer like to get tea from. you breathe it in deeply, a sense of calm washing over you. as you walk over the creaky wooden floorboards beneath you, soft warm light filters down from antique lamps, and cast a gentle glow over the rows of books. you ghost your fingertips over the cloth spines while the quiet murmur of whispered conversations and the occasional rustling of pages create a soothing background noise, almost like a lullaby. through spencer’s airpods, syd barrett serenades you both, and his voice blends seamlessly with the ambiance of the store.

“anything good today lemon?” spencer says as he shimmies up next to you in the aisle of towering book shelves, his voice like honey rolling off his tongue. his hair was unruly as always, but he looked so pretty in this light. his face was littered with freckles that you wish you could kiss. he’s smiling at you, and it snaps you back to reality, and reminds you of the fact you’re staring at him

“uh, yeah, i think i’ll get this one” you smile back, holding up a copy of memoirs of a geisha by arthur golden

“cool, shayne likes that one i think. but he likes every book so…” he smiles at his own remark “um, you want me to grab our normal seats in the cafe while you pay for that?”

“yes, please!” you reply eagerly, smiling as he walked off.

you walk up to the cashier, an older lady who always gives you a bookmark.

“thank you m’darlin’, have a lovely day!”

“you too mrs bryson!” you reply, heading over to spencer who’s sat in some plush leather armchairs. as you sit in comfortable silence with him, time seems to slow down, and for a moment, it's just you, spencer, the books, and the comforting atmosphere of this charming bookstore.

“i got you your sweet tea.” he says, handing you a plastic cup filled with your favourite tea.

he remembered.

fuck.

you were in love with spencer agnew, and it took you him handing you your favourite tea to realise it.

“thanks spence.” you say, still grasping the feelings in your chest.

while you read you book and drink your tea, you feel your attention drifting to him. you can't help but glance up from the pages every now and then, watching him as he sits across from you, his focus on his own book. his fingers absently tracing the rim of his coffee mug, his brow furrowing as he reads. the way the sunlight filters through the small window, casting a warm glow across his hair, highlighting the subtle streaks of lighter brown among his dark curls. you find yourself smiling at the sight of him, wondering when these small, mundane moments began to mean so much to you. the bookstore is quiet, aside for the murmur of others reading or talking in hushed tones. yet, with spencer sitting just a few feet away, the world feels like it's faded to the background. it's just you and him, sharing this space, this moment. you watch the way his lips move slightly as he reads, how he occasionally tilts his head in concentration, and the way his eyes light up when he finds something particularly interesting. as he looks up and catches you watching him, you feel a rush of warmth spreading through your chest. he smiles at you, a slow, easy smile that makes your heart skip a beat. he raises an eyebrow, and you quickly look back down at your book, feeling your cheeks flush. but you can't help it; your gaze finds its way back to him, like he's the most interesting story in the room. he seems to notice the shift in the air between you. he closes his book and leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“everything okay?” he asks, his voice gentle, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

“yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual, though your heart is racing. “just... glad to be here with you.”

he nods, his smile growing a bit wider. “me too.”

as he settles back into his chair, you realize that this simple exchange has changed something. the air feels lighter, the connection between you stronger. you may have come here to read and relax, but now, sitting across from spencer, you know you've found something else entirely - something you never want to let go of.

as you leave the store, you’re panicking slightly as you realise you don’t know what to do. so instead you make up an excuse.

“i forgot my keys ," you blurt out, looking back at the bookstore. it's a thin excuse, but spencer doesn't seem to notice. he simply nods, a hint of concern in his eyes.

"do you want me to wait for you?" he asks, already reaching for his phone to check the time.

"no, it's fine," you reply quickly. "you can go ahead. i’ll just be a minute."

spencer seems reluctant to leave, but he nods, offering a warm smile before stepping out onto the street. you watch him walk away, his figure blending into the crowd as he heads toward the main crossing. your heart sinks a little as he disappears from view, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing pulse.

the bookstore feels different now. the warm glow and soft murmurs are still there, but without spencer, it's like the color has faded a bit. you stand by the door, uncertain of what to do next. you could go back outside, catch up with him, and just say it. tell him how you feel. but the words seem stuck in your throat, and the thought of laying your feelings bare feels like too much, too soon.

you step back inside, pretending to look for something you might have left behind. the stacks of books seem to stretch endlessly in front of you, a maze of comforting distractions. you wander through the aisles, hoping to calm your racing thoughts, but all you can think about is spencer - his smile, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the warmth of his voice.

eventually, you find a quiet corner and sit down, closing your eyes for a moment. you know you have to do something. you can't just let him walk away without knowing how much he means to you. but the fear of rejection, of changing everything, feels overwhelming.

you realize you need time to sort through your feelings, to figure out the best way to approach this. with a heavy heart, you decide to make your way home, hoping the familiar surroundings will bring clarity. as you step out onto the street, the cool breeze brushes against your skin, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside you.

on the journey home, you replay the moments with spencer in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of how much he means to you. you know you can't keep hiding your feelings, but you also know you need to approach this with caution. as you unlock the door to your apartment, you make a silent promise to yourself—to take the time you need, to listen to your heart, and to find the courage to follow where it leads, even if it means risking everything for him.

when you get home, spencer tries calling you as he paces around his bedroom, his phone pressed against his ear. the ringing continues, but there's no answer. he frowns, feeling an uneasy twist in his stomach. maybe you're still in the bookstore. maybe your phone is on silent, or maybe you're just busy. he tells himself there's a reasonable explanation, but the doubt lingers.

as he walks to his kitchen, he dials again. this time, the call goes straight to voicemail. his instincts tell him something isn't right. the keys excuse felt odd, and your hurried departure only amplifies his worry. he takes a moment to think, then leaves his apartment, jumps in his car, starts the engine, and drives toward your apartment.

the streets pass in a blur as he navigates through the evening traffic, his mind racing with possibilities. he finds a parking spot near your building and heads to your door. the hallway is quiet, save for the distant sound of a tv from a neighbouring apartment. he takes a deep breath and knocks.

nothing.

he knocks again, this time a little louder. the knot in his stomach tightens. what if something's wrong? what if he's too late? he knocks a third time, and this time, he hears a faint rustling from inside. the door opens slowly, and there you are, standing in the doorway with a look of surprise and confusion.

"spence?" you say, blinking at him as if he's the last person you expected to see.

"i - i was worried," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "you didn't answer your phone, and i - i didn't know if you were okay."

you tilt your head, trying to process why he's here. his eyes search yours, and you can tell he's anxious, almost desperate to explain himself. "i'm fine," you say, "just had some stuff to think about."

he nods, but you can see he's not entirely convinced. there's something else, something deeper. he takes a step back, as if he's about to leave, but then he hesitates. "i - i have to tell you something," he blurts out, his words coming out in a rush. "i like you. like a lot. like i think i love you? and i know it might be weird, and i don't want to mess things up, but I just had to say it - because i couldn't keep it to myself anymore.”

he looks at you, his eyes full of emotions you can't quite decipher yet. you nod, urging him to continue, even though your own heart is racing. there's something in his gaze that makes you realize this isn't just any confession - this is something that's been building for a long time.

"i've liked you since we were kids," he says, almost breathlessly. "i mean, you were always the coolest person I knew. you didn't care what anyone else thought. you were smart and funny and just... so genuinely kind. i remember when we used to ride our bikes around the neighbourhood, and you'd always be the first one to try something new. like, remember when you climbed that huge tree in mr lawson's yard just because you wanted to see the view from the top? i thought you were so brave."

he chuckles softly, his gaze softening as he reminisces. "and then, when we got older, you were always there for me. when my parents split up, and i felt like everything was falling apart, you were the one who came over with a pizza and just listened. you didn't try to fix it; you just let me talk. that's something i've always loved about you. you're a great listener, and you care about people. like, really care."

he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes locking with yours. "it's not just that, though. It's the little things, too. the way you laugh at the dumbest of angela’s jokes, the way you get excited about your favorite books, and how you always know the right thing to say when I'm feeling down. you make everything feel... lighter, you know? like, even when things are tough, you find a way to make it better."

spencer pauses, his voice growing more earnest. "so yeah, i've um, been holding onto this for a while, and i just, couldn't keep pretending that i didn't feel this way. i like you - a lot. and i don't know if you feel the same way, but i just couldn't not tell you anymore."

he takes a step back, the tension in his shoulders indicating that he's prepared to leave if needed. "i don't want to make things weird between us. if you don't feel the same, that's okay. i just had to say it, because you're the best thing in my life, and i can't keep acting like you aren't."

his confession takes you by surprise, but as he speaks, you feel a surge of warmth in your chest. the words you were struggling to say are suddenly so clear, so obvious. you watch as he starts to turn away, his shoulders slumping in resignation. before he can take another step, you grab his arm and pull him back, your lips pressing against his in a gentle, yet desperate kiss.

he freezes for a moment, stunned by your sudden action, then his arms wrap around you, pulling you close. when you finally break the kiss, you look into his eyes, and there's no doubt, no hesitation.

"it's always been you," you whisper, your voice soft but sure. "you're my person, spencer."

he hugs you tightly, his grip firm and comforting, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. it's a perfect moment, one that feels like the beginning of something new, something beautiful.

and as you stand there in each other's embrace, you know that everything's going to be okay, because you have each other. and that's all that matters.

#spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #smosh #smoshyourheadin #angela giarratana #amanda lehan canto #arasha lalani #courtney miller #shayne topp

[billys-pretty-babe]

We Were Just Kids, Babe

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : You were the love of Billy's life, or at least that's what he always told you.

Warnings : swearing, little mentions of smut, drinking

Word Count : 2,802

A/N : there is a time skip, it'll be marked. inspired by loml by taylor swift

October 1985

Billy laid in your bed, his head in your lap as you scratched his head gently. "You're the love of my life, you know that? Once we leave this shitty town, we'll get married." You softly laughed before smiling down at him. "I love you." He smiled, "I love you too." His words were genuine, there was no reason for you to not trust him.

He relaxed against you; his skin was warm on yours as you pushed his hair back with each rake of your fingers. He rolled over, his forehead resting against your stomach as he kissed it through the shirt you were wearing. He moved his left arm from underneath him and wrapped it around your waist.

"Imagine little Hargrove babies." You softly laughed, "With your hair, that's the Hargrove look." He laughed and nodded, cuddling up to you a little more. He was still cautious, he still had some walls up, but they were rapidly crumbling each time he was with you.

His thumb rubbed over the material of the shirt before snaking under it to hold you a little tighter. "I'll never leave you, you're everything to me." You smiled and hummed at the warmth of his skin; it was a little cold in Hawkins, so you were grateful he ran hot. You were happy, truly and genuinely happy because everything felt right. Your boyfriend, your very first boyfriend wanted to marry you and have kids.

Months had passed and everything was rocky in the relationship. Billy didn't seem happy lately and you were starting to question if it was because of you. You racked your brain, trying to figure out if you had done something and came up with nothing. Maybe he was just having a hard time, that's what it had to be, right?

The look in his eyes never left, he still had love in them. You made sure every single time you saw him. The two of you had been together since November of 1984, so you had already been together for a little over a year.

It was unexpected. You had never cried in his room before, not even when you had sex for the first time. Hearing him cry about how he felt like he was falling out of love was enough for you to burst into tears. Your eyes were burning from the mascara and eyeliner, you did your best to hold it together, but you just couldn't.

He gently grabbed you, pulling you close to him as he held the back of your head to his chest as he pressed his lips to your head. "I'm still your friend, baby. I'm just in a bad spot right now and I can't give you everything I have. You're supposed to be my first priority. One day, okay?" You didn't answer him, holding your fingers behind his back as you took it all in.

You knew you couldn't be friends with him, not when he had kissed you so softly with love and passion, not when he had been inside you, and certainly not when you had professed your love to him for months.

May 1990

You smiled as you watched your younger brother walk across the stage at Hawkins High. You saw the familiar flash of red hair on the football field and your heart raced, starting to wonder if Billy had attended. You didn't think so, he and Max didn't get along. Your mom held onto your arm as she wiped her eyes gently to not mess up her makeup.

The graduates tossed their caps into the air and you smiled, remembering when you and Billy had done the same. You saw your brother go to Max, he always had a crush on her until they started dating their Junior year, Lucas and his family having moved because of Mr. Sinclair's job.

Your mom pouted her lip a little, watching the two of them as they walked through the gates hand-in-hand. The Hargrove-Mayfield family joined your family at your household. Your dad had asked the big question, "Neil, where's Billy?" Neil looked at your dad as he cracked the tab of the beer can.

"He'll be here soon. He got caught up at work. He works at that big mechanic shop in Indianapolis." Your dad hummed and nodded and nodded his head in your direction, "She goes to University of Indianapolis." Neil glanced at you as he softly hummed and nodded. He had liked you as Billy's girlfriend, he thought you could change him, but Billy didn't need changing in your eyes.

Susan looked at you, "Any boys at school, honey?" You softly laughed and shook your head, "No boys, just books." She softly laughed and nodded. "Smart girl you have on your hands," she said to your parents. They both nodded with pride. You walked into the garage, looking through the alcohol fridge as you heard a very familiar exhaust. You glanced out of the little windows, seeing the blue Camaro.

You gulped and grabbed one of your mom's wine coolers, grabbing a second one just in case. You walked into the house, "Billy's here," you said as your throat closed a little. You cleared it and walked to the cupboard, grabbing a cup as you poured both wine coolers into it. You threw the glasses away and took a sip before turning back to where everyone was in the dining room.

You had just walked into the room when there was a knock on the door. Your mom looked at your brother, "Go get the door." He opened his mouth to talk back, and she narrowed her eyes. He sighed and got up, brushing past you to get the door. You sat back down at your seat and sighed when the only empty chair was beside you.

Your brother opened the dining room door and held it open for Billy. He changed, not much but he looked manly. His mustache was full and not the same one he sported in high school. He had a stubbly beard along with more tattoos and he had a little hoop in his ear, the same one he used to wear when he was a lifeguard.

He looked at Max, patting her shoulder gently. "Congrats, I'm proud of you." She smiled and thanked him. You furrowed your brow, the last time you had seen the both of them, they couldn't stand each other. Something changed between them, you wondered what it was.

He greeted your parents before looking down at you in your wooden chair. He smiled, "Hey," he said. You gave him a half-smile before responding, "Hi." He sat beside you and you could smell his cologne and body wash. You recognized the scents, something you had bought him for his eighteenth birthday.

You got up, excusing yourself and Max looked at you just was the door shut. She got up, "I'll go check on her." Your mom nodded and she left the dining room, seeing you outside on the back porch swing. She walked outside and sat beside you. "What happened between you two," you asked her. She sighed, "After you guys broke up, he wasn't himself. He was nicer, he wasn't angry anymore. We did sibling stuff; I finally had a brother." You nodded, tapping your ring on the glass cup you were holding.

"Was the breakup bad?" You shrugged, "What's your definition of bad?" She sighed and nodded. "He fell out of love, that's what he told me." She nodded, rubbing your back. "He found out you were going to that school and found a job there. He was hoping you two would cross paths, he calls a lot.” That made you happy, that he always called Max.

The two of you stayed outside for a little while longer before walking inside as the doorbell rang. Your mom peeked her head out of the dining room, "That's the pizza." You nodded and opened the door, accepting the pizza from the man as you grabbed the money on the countertop. "The tip is at the top." The man smiled and nodded.

"Is that Billy Hargrove's car?" You raised a brow. He chuckled, "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Tommy Hagan, I hung around Billy in his junior year. I graduated that year." You hummed, "Yeah, I remember sorry." He softly laughed and nodded. "So, you two are still together?" You grimaced and shook your head, "No, it's my brother and Max's graduation that he's here for. We broke up a few years ago." He nodded and apologized.

"What's taking so long," Billy's voice asked as it got closer with his footsteps. You felt his body heat on your body when he came to the door. You handed the food to Max before following her inside to let them talk. Soon, he made his way back to the dining room and he sat down beside you again.

You all grabbed food and began eating. "Mom," you said. She turned to you with a smile. "I'm gonna eat outside, there's too many people in here." She nodded before turning back to Susan. You stood up and walked outside and sat at the small table, listening to the nighttime critters chirp and make sounds. The glass door shut at the chair across from you creaked under someone's weight. "You're avoiding me."

You looked up and wanted to cry. He looked like your Billy, but he was no longer your Billy. "I wonder why," you said as you picked apart the pizza. He sighed, "We were just kids, babe. We're adults now, I have my shit straight now." You hummed, poking at the pepperoni. "Please, just talk to me. I'll get down on my knees and beg if I have to." You scoffed, "Yeah right, Billy Hargrove begging?" He got up, his chair making a loud, ugly sound against the concrete. He wiped his hands on his jeans, and he stood before you, slowly sinking down to his knees.

"I am begging you to just talk to me. Tell me you hate me, tell me to fuck off. Just something directed at me." It had shocked you that he was here, on his knees. One thing with Billy, he really didn't beg for anything, but he was begging for you. "What do I say to the person who promised me everything and I got nothing?" He grabbed the chair behind him, pulling himself into it as he moved closer to you.

"I was dumb for doing what I did. I didn't fall out of love with you because if I fell out of love, I wouldn't have followed you to Indianapolis. I got scared because I made promises to you, and I didn't want them to be empty. We were eighteen, I couldn't give you any of that." You choked up a little, kicking your foot. "Billy, we didn't need to immediately get married and have kids. I was willing to wait for you." He nodded, "I know." You raised a brow and he put his thumb behind him.

"When I talk to Max your brother is usually there." You hummed and nodded, "Yeah, they're dating or something like that. I think they're testing the water." He groaned, "Great, another guy I have to watch out for." You laughed softly. He ate some of his pizza and took a sip of his beer.

"I miss you." Your heart stopped and you looked at him. "In what way?" He put his can down. "In every single way. I haven't been with anyone since we broke up." You nodded. "Have you?" You shook your head, "No." He nodded, moving a little closer to you, his jean-clad knee now was against your thigh.

"I think if you gave me a second chance we could get married before those little shits in there." You laughed, "We are not competing with our siblings to see who gets married first." He shrugged, taking another bite of his food. "One chance, that's all I'm asking and at the end of the night if you still hate me, just tell me to go fuck myself and I will." You sighed, "I don't hate you; I could never hate you. Not after everything we did together." He smirked, "Like what?" You rolled your eyes, "Shut up," you murmured. He snickered, taking a sip.

"One chance, I mean it. That's all you get." He nodded. "That's all I need, babe." He finished up his beer, "Did you drive here?" You shook your head, "My mom picked me up. The semester is over." He nodded, "Wanna hang out tomorrow then? I don't have work until Monday. We can do anything you want." You nodded, "Sure, B." He smiled before leaning in and kissing your cheek.

"I won't kiss you until you kiss me permission to so that'll have to do for now." You nodded and finished up your food before taking the plate inside as Billy followed you. You yawned softly, having a long day of travel. You peeked into the dining room, "I'm gonna go to bed." Your mom nodded, "Where's Billy?" You pointed behind you. She smiled and nodded and you went to your room.

He followed you and sat on your bed. You looked at him, "I don't remember inviting you in here." He rolled his eyes and laid down, "Shh, I'm tired too." You laughed, finding his old basketball shorts as you flung them at him. He walked into your bathroom. "Do you have an extra toothbrush?" You hummed, "I think it's in a box under my sink, near the Tampax box." You heard the cabinet door shut as the water ran.

You got undressed and put on different clothes. The air was humid so you made sure to put on something light that wouldn't stick to your skin very much. He walked out of the bathroom and laid on your bed. He was muscular but still soft looking and his happy trail was a lot fuller. You brushed your teeth before laying beside him. His arms were crossed behind his head as he looked at your ceiling.

"We fucked in this bed." You elbowed him in the ribs, and he laughed loudly. "It's true, multiple times too. I can still hear my children." You laughed, pushing him a little. It got quiet, a little too quiet for your comfort. "Hey Billy." He hummed, looking at you. "Please kiss me." He smiled and leaned towards you, holding your face as he kissed you softly.

You held onto him, your thumb running over his rib tattoo. His lips moved against yours as he rolled into you a little, needing you as close as possible. He pulled away first and you raised a brow before feeling it as you laughed. "It's natural." You laughed again at him defending his erection. He grumbled, putting his hand over your mouth.

You licked his palm, and he had no reaction, "Just feeding into the fire, babe." You snickered a little and you looked him in his eyes, seeing the same love you saw five years ago.

"What're you thinking about?" You hummed and he asked the question again. "Nothing, doesn't matter." He pursed his lips, "I'm not dumb. Tell me." Your fingers dug into his skin a little, just needing to feel that he was actually there. "Do you think we'll get married?" He smiled, "Maybe, I think so. Like I said earlier, we were kids. I think now that we're a little older we know what we want. I have a stable job that makes good money. You graduate next spring and once you do and we're together. We'll get a nice house in Indianapolis and a dog or cat, your choice, and then babies." You smiled and leaned into him.

His hand pulled you closer to him and you smiled, "You got more muscles." He laughed and nodded, "Kinda have to when you're picking up heavy car parts and tires and shit. Is it uncomfortable?" You shook your head as you rested it on his pec. "Not at all, you're soft when you're relaxed." He laughed and ran his calloused hand over your hair. He kissed right at your hairline, and you smiled, shutting your eyes.

"Go to sleep, we'll go get some breakfast when we wake up." You nodded, putting your leg on his hip and he reached down and grabbed under your knee, holding your leg on him. "Goodnight," you murmured. He smiled, "Goodnight, babe." You held onto him, cuddling with him just like you did in high school.

As you were drifting off to sleep you had one hope, that this would work because you wouldn't be able to go through the same heartbreak again.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x female reader #billy stranger things #stranger things billy #william hargrove #billy hargrove x f!reader #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff

[yannaryartside]

CARMY NEVER WANTED TO CREATE A MENU WITH SYD.

AND WHY THAT IS THE CORE THEME OF THE SHOW

PART 1: THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIEVES

So, one of the bases of creating an efficient character arc is to give the character something they want, and something they need. In the pursuit of getting what they want, the theme of the show and obstacles will show them what they need. Most of the time, they need healing from an emotional wound that prevents them from growing into the ultimate version of themselves, capable of winning the challenges of the story. I will try to explore Carmy's wound and, more importantly, the lie that created that wound.

In 'The negative trait thesaurus" by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi, it reads:

"Wounds are often kept secret from others because embedded within them is the lie-an untruth that the character believes about himself."

When I started therapy (disclaimer: this is not professional advice; I am just talking from how I interpreted all of this), I was introduced to the concept of "limiting beliefs:" lies we have told ourselves about our own nature or the nature of the world. The most difficult beliefs to leave behind are those established in our early childhoods, and we told ourselves those lies to make sense of the world, to make peace with realities we were not equipped to comprehend yet. 

Some examples of lies people belive:

"I am too stupid to learn anything; my teacher said so" "It was my fault that I was molested." "I am a bad person for wanting a different life."

When people believe these lies, they will act accordingly, maybe attracting situations that hurt them but keeping the lie active in their lives. They may self-sabotage or create bonds with people who also believe the lie, even if it doesn't seem this way. 

In some cases, people may develop complete personalities or behaviors to prove the lie wrong, but deep down, they still believe in the lie. Carmy falls into this last category. This is where we find the most contradictory parts of his personality, how he can act shy and insecure in some instances and appear confident and even aggressive in others. 

Long post underneath.

THE RESENT OF A MOTHER:

We can only assume here because I think Storer is gonna let us know more about this soon, but I think I got an idea of this wound when I saw the only moment Carmy was alone with Donna on "Fishes."

I have a lot of things to say about Donna herself, but let's begin with the obvious: the conversation in this scene had little to do with the dinner itself. This was a woman stating that she felt alone and not valued, probably due to being abandoned by her husband and having to overwork herself at the beef to support her 3 kids, all while being a single mother. We don't know if this feeling of abandonment is something she has carried since childhood, but in the state of current womanhood, it wouldn't be uncommon. The work of women (especially mothers), particularly the emotional labor, is rather invisible and not valued at all.

But again, this is something she has used as fuel to resent her kids, who, at the end of the day, didn't ask to be here. Her anger has to go somewhere since she cannot direct it toward the people that ctually caused it. To get to the point:

THE BEARZATTO SYBLING DYNAMIC

Carmy said, "You are not alone; I am here with you." (This kind of comes back to telling Syd she was not alone at the end of the season.) This scene is about a kid trying to communicate to his mother that he loves her and trying desperately to connect with her, to get her to express her affection for him as well.

It tells me that growing up, he felt like he had to "earn" her affection. Donna likes to make her kids feel guilty about her unhappiness, so the kids feel that they are constantly walking on shells because they think their mother hates them, or at least that she resents them and that it is their responsibility to fix it.

In the scene, Carmy asked,

"What is so hard, Mom?"

I think what he was actually asking is, "What is so hard about being with us, to love us? What did we do to you that made you resent us this way?" He is asking because he wants to know, to finally understand. Why do you drink, Mom? Why do you yell? Why do you say such hurtful things?

When she answers, "Nobody makes things beautiful for me," you can see in his face the disconnection. He knows he can't do anything about that.

Then, a crucial part in the scene occurs when Donna calls him "Michael, " which indicates that the only one of her children who could make her feel happy was Michael, or at least that is how the other two kids felt. You can see the hurt in Carmy's eyes in the scene because this answer dismisses his effort to connect to his mother in his own right. She asks him to just leave. He offers to wait to connect with her. Then, it comes to the most chilling moment on the scene, the "we have a problem" using his full name, with resentment in every word. She hugs him while crying, kisses him, and then slaps him.

This is rejection. There is a book called "The Five Wounds of the Soul": wich are Rejection, Abandonment, Humiliation, Betrayal, and Injustice. I think Carmy's wound is rejection, for never earning his mother's love, particularly comparing himself to Michael.

Michael took responsibility for the Beef, finally giving their mom a break. It was Michael's job to make sure everyone was having a good time, to compensate for the discomfort that caused being in Donna's presence, to make sure all of them stayed as a family, which was Donna's intention, so Michael thought he had to make that happen for her. Therefore, Michael is the only one of her kids who succeeds and makes her happy. We know Donna rejects Natalie and Carmy. About Natalie, we can write another whole essay.

THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIVES

According to this scene, I think Carmy thinks that her mother didn't love him because he is not Michael; in fact, he is the most "not like Michael" someone could be. He was shy and stuttered and didn't have friends or girlfriends, comparable to Michael's ability to control every room he was in. Carmy was sensible and no macho alfa as Michael presented himself to be. Carmy left home and the family business, and both Michael and Donna expressed that they feel like he thinks he is better than them. Michael admitted later to admiring Carmy's work in Copenhagen, but Donna never did. carmy grew up having to live with the crumbles of Donna's attention that Michael left behind, wondering every day what was so wrong with him that made her reject him, and wondering what he could do to change that.

The lie that Carmy belives, could be sumarize this way:

I need to earn people's love. I need to always go the extra mile, doing the most possible at all times to earn people's love.

This all goes back to his trauma with Michael. It goes back to his career as a chef and how he became the best. He didn't need to succeed on a larger scale in the culinary industry to earn Michael's respect and love; he needed to be the best in the world, so he did that. He judges his own social abilities, comparing them to Miachae's. He left that promising career only because of Michae's death. He got the girlfriend Michael wanted for him (not saying it was the only reason, but it was there).

PART 2: WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS HAD TO DO WITH DYSNEY?

Well, what does a person who feels they always need to do the most? They do the most. I want to bring you back to the moments Carmy had to develop menu ideas with Syd on s1 and s2.

When Syd suggested items for the menu in s1, he gave her an inconclusive, not enthusiastic "maybe."

When she had to actually cook the thing for him to approve, he tried to make her feel small about it. He felt the need to remind her that she was "impatient and green," according to her previous bosses. He commented about her possibly ruining the flow by using time to cook her recipe. Yikes all around, but the core here is that he was treating her like an enemy, like competition, while she was trying to save the restaurant with what they had on hand to use the most efficient solution.

Then, when Carmy tries the dish and feels stunned by it, he has to make an ambiguous excuse on the fly and just finishes every chance of them using the recipe by saying, "is not ready yet"

And what does he do next? He goes to show the crew a recipe that is extremely complicated for the level they are operating at currently—they said so themselves. I think the recipe is a variation of Donna's butter chicken recipe. To put a nail on that coffin of his intentions to earn her love and approval at the end of it all.

But why does he do all this? Because he needs to be the hero, subconsciously, he is still that small kid begging for acceptance and love; he must go the extra mile. He cannot accept Sydney's help and partnership, because that will take away from him earning what he wants on his own merit.

In S2, he seems unenthusiastic about starting the menu in the first place. Then Claire comes along, and he tries to make it work with Syd and the menu, but I think he subconsciously thanks the universe for not having to go to his core wound. That is what self-sabotage is. That is why he bailed on the food tour with Syd, using such a stupid excuse as helping somebody else move out and never mentioning it again. He never asked her what she liked or what ideas she thought of. For most of the creative process, Syd is alone, working on her own creative crisis. The menu ends up being like two recipes they made in collaboration and then all of his family's traditional recipes. It is two of Syd's recipes and the rest of Carmy's. Then, desserts Marcus did on his own. The collaboration was superficial at best.

All of this creates the core theme of the show. The Bear was once a chaotic place (like their childhood home) that needs to evolve into an efficient, peaceful place built on love, support, and mutual collaboration like a functional family should be. Sydney is the member of this found family that forces Carmy to confront his core wound and learn he can actually be good enough while still accepting help. Therapy probably will play an important part in this theme, alongside with Carmy learning there was nothing wrong with him in the first place, that earning your parent's love is not something a kid can do.

Thankyou for reading. Gif and images are not mine.

#sydcarmy #the bear meta #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear fx #the bear #sydney x carmy #carmy the bear #carmy x sydney #the bear hulu #donna berzatto #michael berzatto #natalie berzatto

[permanentswaps]

Boy's Best Friend

Reposting one of my favorites from Male Transformation Blog, which you can find here.

So how did you find out? How does it work?" I asked my lil' bro Duncan. "I don't know, I just found that I could pull myself out of my body and float around," he replied excitedly. "Mom and dad won't be back for a few hours, so I could show you." "Huh, I'd better go before they get back. Dad said he'd kill me if he ever saw me again." "No, they're cool." "You'd say that, you're the favorite son." I looked around the pictures on the wall. "See, no pictures of me, its like I never existed." Duncan looked sad. "I miss you," he declared. "Maybe you'll come stay with me soon, like old times. Anyway, show me this trick of yours." He nodded, "When I leave my body don't touch it or anything." "How will I know you're doing it? You could be just shitting me." "Hold you hand behind your back, stick out some fingers and when I'm out I go and look." I shrugged and held my hand behind my back with three fingers showing. "OK, so do it then." Duncan stood for a moment, then his eyes glazed over. I called his name asking if he was OK, but he didn't reply. I was starting to worry when he blinked and grinned at me. "Three fingers, you're holding up three," He told me. I looked around for mirrors in case he could seek a view, "Yeah right. That is so fucking weird. How far have you gone?" "I've been in all the houses in the street, that's about it." "Have you tried getting inside someone, like in the movies?" I asked. "No," he replied. "Never thought of it." "You should try." He looked at me, expectantly. "Hell no! You're not trying it out on me!" "So who then? All the people in the street are old." "Try something simple first, one that isn't going to fight." I said.

"Hmmmm." He pondered for a moment, before going over to the other side of the room to a cage holding the family pitbull. "Here, I'll practice on Rex, he's super clumsy and he's definitely not a fighter." I watched as Duncan's eyes glazed over. Rex started to yelp and whine before wriggling free of Duncan's arms as they fell to his side. Rex staggered around the floor looking like he was trying walk for the first time. After a few moments he was bounding around just as he'd done before. I crouched and the dog sat in front of me. "Is that you Duncan?" Rex licked my face and rested a paw on my knee. "Eww, gross!" I exclaimed.

Walking over to Duncan I looked at the vacant expression in his face. He was cute kid, popular as well. I looked at Rex bounding and jumping around. I went to touch Duncan's cheek, but my fingers instead to stroking his skin slipped through the surface into a tacky sticky substance. I pulled my fingers away, but it was difficult like something was holding onto them. I was finally able to recover my digits and looked around for the dog. He was nowhere to be seen. I looked at the motionless body that belonged to Duncan. My life sucked at the moment, Duncan had always been the favorite son. I'd only turned up because I'd just been thrown out of my apartment; I had no money to pay the rent. There was a clatter, I looked up and Rex ran past the door. Ideas were swirling around my head, but one was sharp; if Duncan was now in the dog, could I get inside his vacant body? When I'd touched it, it felt like it was trying to pull at me. I had to try, it would solve so many of my problems. I walked up behind Duncan's body and placed my hands on his back. I felt the fabric of his shirt and then my hands slipped inside, this time I didn't struggle just felt myself being drawn into his body. At the point my body touched his, I could feel myself being drawn inside. My arms has already disappeared up to my shoulders and I could begin to feel Duncan's arms becoming mine. I watched Rex trot in and stop tipping his head. I tried to imagine what it looked like, his elder brother stealing his body. Rex whimpered and I knew this was wrong. Immediately I started to struggle, trying to pull myself free, but I was already in too deep. The more I struggled the quicker I sunk into the quicksand mire of Duncan's body. "I'm sorry," I pleaded to the family dog that sat before me. "I'm s--" Was all I could manage before I was sucked inside completely. The darkness faded and I blinked at the dog looking up at me. I straightened, feeling stiffness in my body. I looked down. "Shit," I muttered, I was not only wearing Duncan's clothes I was also wearing his body. I felt my torso through the shirt and looked at the dog. "Have you been working out bro'?" Rex snorted a nod. "Damn," I whispered pulling at my sleeve and inspecting the complicated tattoo on my arm. I took a step back and almost tripped over a pile of clothes; the ones I'd been wearing only minutes earlier. I picked them up and walked up stairs, straight into Duncan's bedroom with Rex trotting behind me. Inside I stuffed them into a bag at the back of the cupboard. Then it hit me, this was the first time I'd been to their new house and yet I knew everything about it. I swallowed, everything about Duncan. "You got all his doggy memories as well?" I asked Rex. He barked at me excitedly. I sat on the bed opposite the mirror and looked at my new reflection; young, strong and handsome. Everything I wasn't. Rex jumped up and sat next to me and we both looked at our reflections for a few minutes. "I'm really sorry, I don't know what came over me," I told Rex. We looked at each other and he licked my face a couple of times. "A boy and his dog; what could possibly be tighter than that?" Rex barked again, and wagged his tail. "Maybe we can figure this out." I could here a door open, and then a shout. "Duncan, are you upstairs?" It was my dad. "Yeah!" I replied. "Is that your brothers pickup parked down the street, because if he's in the house--" "Yes, he stopped by to say goodbye. He left about twenty minutes ago with some friends. Said something about moving to the West coast." "Good riddance," I heard him say to my mom. I hugged Rex again, "Looks like we are going to be together for a while." He barked again. "We'll have to work out a code little bro'," I said with a smile as I walked downstairs to meet my parents again; their favorite son.