#something happened; something was instilled in him; something made it be the only thing he thinks about and the only thing that defines him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freedomfireflies · 7 months

Text

SnakeBite*

Summary: The third part to 404*

The one where Harry is good for more than a good time.

But he's still good at that, too.

Word Count: 5.2k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Oh, come on…please. Please, don’t do this. Not right now. Not today…please.”

With a deep breath, you stick the key back into the ignition and try again. Waiting anxiously for the sound of the engine roaring to life. A sound you desperately need to hear more than anything.

Instead, all that follows is that familiar clunking of something heavy before there’s a rather shrill buzzing you can’t quite place.

Fuck.

Exasperated and woefully defeated, you take the key back out, groan, and drop your forehead onto the steering wheel. “This is not happening.”

Truth be told, you should have seen this coming. This isn’t the first time your poor car has made this unsettling noise, and perhaps it’s your fault for ignoring it for so long. You hadn’t meant to; you just didn’t realize it was this bad. Or that your car was this old.

Now, you’re trapped in the Juno Incorporated parking lot on a Friday afternoon with no way of getting you or your car home.

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

You don’t even bother to lift your head as Harry’s voice carries in through the window. “Nothing. Go away.”

You hear the sound of his boots scraping across the concrete before they stop, and you feel a large shadow fall over your side of the vehicle. “Can I assume that god awful noise came from this hunk of shit you call a car?”

Leaning back, you huff as you look over. “I’m sorry, do you want something?”

Harry smirks, arms crossing over his chest as he juts his chin toward you. “Pop the hood, let me see.”

“Yeah…no.”

“Come on,” he pushes, a few curls dancing across his forehead from a soft gust of wind. You realize he looks different outside of the lab. Normal, almost. It’s unsettling. “You wanna leave, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but knowing you, you’d probably cut my breaks.”

“If I were gonna take you out, I would have done it by now.”

“Oh. Wow. You’re really instilling me with a lot of confidence, thanks.”

He steps back and motions toward the front of your car. “Fucking relax, Tinkerbell, and just pop the goddamn hood.”

Regretfully, you do as instructed before leaning out the open window to watch him walk toward your engine. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“I know enough,” he replies, using the back of his hand to push on his glasses before bending down.

“That…is not helpful.”

“Well, I’m your only shot. Everyone else is gone.”

“I can call a repair guy.”

He shakes his head once. “Won’t get here in time. It’s rush hour on a Friday. You’ll be here for hours if they even show at all. And chances are, they won’t be able to schedule you in till next week. So, unless you’re planning to sleep here, in your car, can you please shut the fuck up, and let me focus?”

You feel your expression morph into a scowl as you unclick your seatbelt and step out. “I’d rather sleep in my car than trust you to fix my engine.”

You notice his eyes roll, but he’s amused. “Well, I can’t fix it. Not here. I think it’s your spark plugs. They tend to wear out faster in older cars. You’ll probably have to get them replaced.”

Scurrying to stand beside him, you glance over your engine and the internal workings of the car with a heavy sigh.

“You’re kidding,” you mumble beneath another strained groan. “And let me guess, it’s gonna be expensive.”

“Probably,” he agrees, glancing over. “But it’s not like you can’t afford it.”

Your eyes narrow. “I know I can afford it, I just don’t like dropping thousands of dollars on something so dumb.”

“Spark plugs aren’t dumb,” he retorts while reaching for your hood to slam it shut. “You need them to fucking drive.”

“Yeah, but having to pay for a rental car, manual labor, and a tow truck is dumb,” you point out. “And this is the last thing I need right now.”

His eyebrow lifts but he doesn’t ask for elaboration. Instead, he begins to stride across the lot toward a dark, black Harley, leaving you and your crisis behind.

In turn, you reach for your cellphone to look up local tow trucks and mechanics that might be able to help you out.

To your dismay, most shops are already closed for the weekend, except for one. And after a very lengthy and frustrated discussion, you learn that they won’t be able to come by until much later tonight. Which means that all your hopes of having a nice, relaxing evening are for naught.

Once again defeated, you slump back against the side of your car and drop your head. “Well…great.”

Harry’s smirk returns as he glances over and straddles his bike. “What?”

“I’m stuck here until midnight,” you mumble, running a palm down the side of your cheek. “You were right, everyone is booked.”

“Shit,” is about all he offers while pulling his helmet over his head. “That sucks.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Welcome.” He revs the engine, and just like that, the bike roars to life. The loud and somewhat startling sound echoing across the parking lot as you flinch.. “So, what’s the plan, Princess? You gonna call an Uber and come back later?”

“I can’t,” you shout over the noise. “I have to be here in case they come early, or they’ll leave.”

Through the open visor, you see him frown. “Ah.”

“Yeah.”

He studies you for a moment more, and you feel your skin grow warm under such a scrutinous gaze. Like he’s looking for something written between the lines of your face. “Well…make sure you lock your doors.”

“No shit.”

He smiles again before flipping the visor shut and steadying the bike with his leg. You stand back, ready to watch him speed out of the lot and onto the street, but to your surprise…he simply sits there.

In fact, a good sixty seconds pass before he suddenly slips the helmet off his head, sighs, and thrusts it toward you. “Get on.”

You blink. “What?”

“Get on the fucking bike, Tink,” he repeats. “I know a bar we can hang out in till they get here.”

“I…I just told you, I can’t leave—”

“You can see the parking lot from inside,” he interrupts. “If they show, we can just run back over.”

You step closer, drawn to his proposition, although still wildly confused. “Uh…okay. Why, though? I’m fine to just wait here.”

He looks at you, the grassy green behind his glasses somehow softer in this natural lighting. “S’not safe,” he says simply, shrugging one shoulder up. “Be better to wait somewhere public, and I don’t really want your death on my conscience.”

And you aren’t exactly sure what to say. Because you think this may be the nicest thing he’s ever done for you – even if it’s still a little odd – and you don’t want to spook him by doing the wrong thing.

But as you debate a response, he shakes the helmet at you again, rather aggressively. “Tink, get on the goddamn bike, please. I’m wasting gas here.”

With a huff, you snatch it from his hand and join him on the Harley. The helmet slips on rather easily, and once you’re sure it’s snug and secure, your eyes trail down his back, unsure of how to proceed.

You don’t exactly want to…hold him. Or touch him or straddle him. At least, not outside of the way you do in secret. In broad daylight. Where people could see.

In fact, you already feel as though you’re grinding against his ass from how small this goddamn seat is. Almost too close for comfort as you catch a subtle trace of his cologne and feel the warmth from his body.

But motorcycles don’t exactly come with seatbelts, and if he were to take a sharp corner, you might end up pancaked on the cement.

“Tinkerbell,” you suddenly hear him call over his shoulder, voice raised to carry over the growl of the engine. “Just fucking grab me, it’s fine.”

You glare at his curls, despite knowing he can’t see you. “I’m good.”

He snorts again before he’s suddenly reaching back, grabbing onto your wrists, and hoisting your arms around his middle.

You’re tugged forward, your chest pressing to his spine rather forcefully as he glances back.

“Pussy,” he murmurs, releasing the clutch until the bike jolts forward and takes off through the parking lot.

With a rather shrill squeal, you tighten your hold on his broad frame, and bury yourself between his shoulder blades. The sensation is exhilarating and frightening all in the same moment. The rush of wind, adrenaline, and the way he leans around the corner before taking off down the street.

You think you feel his chest vibrate with laughter, perhaps from the way your nails are scraping down his shirt. And despite your increasing terror, you find that you feel oddly…safe with him at the handles.

Not even two minutes later, he’s pulling into another parking spot on the other side of the street, right in front of the aforementioned bar. It’s a bar you recognize, one that a few of your other coworkers often frequent from time to time.

In fact, this is the exact same bar you and Harry first hooked up in all those months ago.

The memory makes you smile.

“What?” Harry asks as swings his leg over the side and stands up. “Why are you grinning like that?”

You quickly wipe the smirk from your face while wrestling the helmet off to hand back. “Like what? I’m just smiling, calm down.”

“I don’t like when you smile. It freaks me out.”

“You’re really rude, you know that?”

“What? I’m just being honest. You have a lot of teeth. It’s weird.”

You glower at him, swatting his chest as you brush by. “Bite me, Harold.”

“With what? Your teeth?”

You feign a snubbed gasp – to which he chuckles – before striding into the bar, leaving him to follow behind.

The large room is loud and crowded with people, the smell of alcohol and bad decisions clinging to the air. You make a beeline for the counter, exhausted and overworked and already annoyed by Harry’s future comments before he can even make them.

Like—

“Really? An appletini?”

With a deep breath, you look over while the bartender turns around to begin prepping your drink. “Yes, really. I like apples. And it’s delicious. And the color is fun.”

He rests an arm on the edge of the marble bar and leans in. “How incredibly boring of you.”

Once again, your expression falls flat. “Are you gonna be this fucking annoying the whole time? Because I’d rather wait by my car and get murdered.”

“I make no promises.”

“Clearly. And let me guess, you’re gonna order something cool and manly like a scotch on the rocks.”

Harry’s eyebrow quirks up before he smugly turns toward the bartender and calls, “I’ll have a SnakeBite.”

You can actually feel your eyes roll all the way into the back of your head. “God, you’re fucking pretentious.”

“Thank you,” he says with a smile, and you grit your teeth. “Will you relax? I haven’t even had a drink yet and you’re killing my buzz.”

“I’m not killing anything, I just can’t stand you.”

“No? Ouch. I thought we were friends.”

The sarcasm is evident, but you huff, nevertheless. “For the love of god, shut up.”

“What?” He nods his chin at you. “S’just a drink, don’t be so sensitive.”

“I’m sensitive because you’re annoying.”

“No, you’re sensitive because you’re wound up,” he retorts, eyeing you closely. It makes your skin crawl. “When’s the last time you got off, Tink?”

The inquiry makes you step back, almost as though trying to avoid his judgment. “None of your business.”

“So…couple weeks ago? In the closet, with me?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “That’s a long fucking time, Princess. No wonder you’re so uptight.”

Your mouth drops open, ready to scoff your resentment and perhaps a quippy remark before he suddenly steps forward and lowers his voice.

“Bet it’s achy, huh?” he coos, and the slight air condescension and sympathy makes your head spin. “Bet you hump your little pillow every night trying to get it done, yeah? But it never works, does it?”

Stunned and left without much remark, your lashes flutter.

He moves closer. “See, if we were friends…I’d offer to take you into the bathroom and help you out. But since you think you can do better…go ahead.”

He leans back while you gape at him. “I’m sorry…go ahead and do what?”

“Find someone,” he answers, glancing around the packed bar. “Take ‘em into the bathroom and let them bend you over the sink.”

“You can’t be serious—”

“Why not?” His eyebrow raises. “That’s the whole reason people come to bars. To get drunk and fuck.”

“Well…that’s not why I’m here.”

“It could be.”

“Harry…no—”

“Why? Seriously, why not? You need it.”

“I don’t…you’re so fucking rude, I don’t need to get off—”

“Coming is good for your health. And for your unfavorable attitude—”

“Oh, you are so fucking—”

“Rude? Annoying? Doesn’t make me any less right.”

You clamp your mouth shut and step closer, letting your gaze travel the expanse of his face. “Come on, Harry,” you murmur softly – salaciously – as his breath seems to catch. “Do you really think…you could watch me with some other guy?”

His expression twists, his mouth already forming around something else snappy and crude.

But it seems to get stuck on his tongue when you suddenly reach out and trail your fingers down his chest. Moving in until there’s only a single breath between you.

“Do you really think…you could watch me touch them?” you whisper, glancing down to your hand as it grazes over his pec. “Or know that they had me dripping down their cock…the way I always drip for you?”

He wants to fight you. Wants to snort and look away.

But he doesn’t. He can’t. He’s mesmerized by the power you so easily stole from him. Undone by the sound of your voice taunting him with an idea he can’t seem to stomach.

“Wanna know I’m whimpering their name the way I always whimper yours?” you continue, smoothing your other palm up the back of his neck. Squeezing just hard enough to make him straighten up. “Wanna see the marks on my throat from where they held me—”

“Easy,” he warns lowly, reaching up to snatch your wrist. But he doesn’t move you. “Not here—”

“Why?” You push up onto your tiptoes and let your lips ghost over his. “Who’s gonna see, hm? Who’s gonna care?”

His lashes flutter, eyes traveling down to your mouth. “Are you this desperate for it, Princess? Wanna fuck me right here in the middle of the bar? Make them watch?”

You smile, head tilting until the tip of your nose dances across his cheek. “Maybe,” you nearly purr. “Bet you like to be watched. You always like watching me.”

And maybe he knows you’re merely playing a game. Teasing him just to throw him off track and test his patience.

But he plays along, eager to see where it might lead. “Can’t help it,” he replies calmly, smirking himself. “Y’just always look so pretty when you’re three fingers deep in your cunt.”

“Yeah?” Your nails scratch at the soft curls near the nape of his neck. “Funny how I can make myself squirt better than you can.”

He exhales a rather sadistic chuckle while his arm reaches to loop around your waist, pulling your chest flush with his. “I wasn’t trying to make you squirt.”

“No?”

His head shakes once. “No. Trust me, Tink. If I wanted to…I would.”

“Then maybe you should.”

His lips part just enough to tease you with a taste. “Maybe I will.”

“Yeah? Right here? In front of everybody?”

Another grin. “I could. Be so fucking easy, too. Bend you over the bar, pull your soaked little panties down…spread you open so they can see how much of a dirty little cumslut you are.”

And perhaps this started as a ruse, but just the thought and the tantalizing way he speaks breeds a new inspiration.

“Cause you are, aren’t you?” he asks quietly, large hand pressing hard against your spine. “My dirty, fucking Princess? Get all wet and weepy from just a couple words?”

You swallow a whimper trying desperately to come free.

“Should I check?” he whispers, now subtly moving you over until your back meets the counter. “Hm? See if you’re as wound up as I think you are?”

You rifle through your list of responses but find that you have none to offer as his fingers delicately begin to trace the edge of your jeans. Provoking you further.

You reckon you should probably stop him. Point out what an idiotic idea this is and remind him that he’s still very much in public, surrounded by people.

But his body blocks you from most of the crowd, and nobody else is close enough to notice. And you suppose that even if they did look over, they wouldn’t exactly be able to see or understand.

His eyes flick to yours, looking for hesitation. But when he finds none, the corner of his mouth twitches up into a pleased smile.

“Dirty Princess,” he teases, sliding his hand into your pants as subtly as he can while you quickly glance around for prying eyes. “That’s right, Tink. Look at them.”

The feel of his cold fingers against your warm skin is like ecstasy, sending a rush of adrenaline straight down to your toes.

You gasp quietly to mask a whine, vision going hazy as you watch him study you.

“Oh, sweetie,” he tsks, smoothing his touch through your folds. Spreading and stroking as you reel. “Poor fucking thing. Did’ya get yourself all wet for me?”

“No,” you manage to reply, heart hammering against your rib cage when he smirks. “I was watching TikTok’s of Andrew Garfield earlier. This is for him.”

“Ah,” he hums, but he’s wildly amused, hand still cupping you gently before he swiftly pulls out and leaves you to wilt. “Well, in that case…”

He steps away, fingers tucked between his lips as he pretends to turn around.

However, before he can get far, you manage to capture a fistful of his shirt and yank him back to you.

And you kiss him. Without reluctance or fear. You kiss him, and you sigh against his mouth, and swallow his surprised but greedy moan.

His hands are on your hips, squeezing and pulling, desperate to tug you further into his frame.

You go willingly, becoming pliable in his hands. A few people cheer from beside you, raising their glasses and whistling like drunken animals.

But it makes you both smile, suddenly unencumbered by the ideas of what people might think or who might see.

And it’s strange to feel so at peace in his arms. Unnatural almost to find relief in his lips or safety in his presence. Because this is still the same Harry that would let you drown before he jumped in after you. That would rather tell you off than tell you he likes you – even as an acquaintance.

You’re not enemies, per se. You imagine you’re both too old for such childish rivalries. But he’s cruel and rude and blunt. His ego rivals the size of the moon, and his lack of care and inhibitions is proof that he could never be who you’d need him to be.

But that’s okay, you realize. You find serenity in the sadistic, strange behavior. Because it means you don’t have to commit to giving him anything more than what he deserves.

His tongue leaves a quick lick to yours before he pulls back and studies you from behind the dark frames of his glasses. “I need to fuck you.”

And you almost laugh at the frank way he speaks. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” His palm slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing it one, twice, three times. “Meet me in the bathroom.”

“Ew, no. I’m not fucking you in a crusty ass bathroom in a sketchy bar,” you retaliate with a scrunch of your nose. “Pick somewhere else.”

“There isn’t anywhere else,” he huffs. “Unless you really do want me to fuck right here in front of everybody.”

“That’s not funny.”

“M’not trying to be funny. I’m trying to fuck you.”

“Well…try harder.”

His eyes narrow. “Fine, you wanna fuck me on my bike?”

You blink. “Okay, that’s really not funny.”

“What?” He’s grinning again, and you hate the way his dimples pop out. Hate how charming they make him look. “Come on, I ride the bike, you ride me.”

You snort as you turn around to take a sip of your drink. “I’d rather get herpes.”

“Wow. Classy. Real fucking classy—”

“Admit it, you’ve had it before—”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“Well, you can’t. Remember?”

He scoffs. “Then where the fuck do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Literally anywhere else?”

“Well, I’m not taking you back to mine.”

“No? You don’t want me to see the bridge you live under?”

“Troll jokes. Funny.”

“Thank you, I thought so. It’s very fitting.”

His expression falls flat before he sighs and steps closer again. “Meet me in the fucking bathroom,” he repeats quietly, “and let me fuck you. Let me make it better.”

You want to remind him – again – that a dirty bathroom in a crowded bar isn’t exactly the best place. You’d never get a moment of privacy, and the position would most likely be wildly uncomfortable.

But suddenly, none of your reasons seem to matter. Because it hurts to be away from him. Actually aches between your thighs, forcing you to swallow thickly.

So, instead of responding with an actual answer, you simply take his hand, and drag him through the crowd.

You catch his smug smile – and resist the urge to slap the glasses off his face – before yanking him into the hall and toward the bathroom.

You both stumble through the door, already back on each other’s lips. Kissing, and groping, and groaning as you work to get the lock flipped.

You pause for only a moment to make sure the single stall restroom is in fact empty while Harry uses this as encouragement to begin nipping down the side of your neck.

Your nails scratch down his scalp and he moans against the heat of your skin, exhaling his relief and lust all in the same breath.

His touch is firm – pointed and almost painful – as he pushes you back toward the wall. You gasp when you meet the cold, hard cement, lashes fluttering from the force and the sound of his belt coming undone.

He nods his chin at you, entertained by your fascination. “Come on, Princess. You’ve seen my cock before.”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you murmur, swallowing thickly when he pulls himself out. “Before I change my mind and find somebody else."

He scoffs with a smile. “I’d like to see you try.”

He gives himself a few pumps, growing harder in his palm before he lets go and moves his attention to your jeans. He’s got them down your legs and pooled around your ankles in under thirty seconds flat, your panties soon following suit.

But he teases you for just a moment. Because of course he does, the sadistic fucker. Needing to hear you beg for him before he actually gives you what you both want.

“Harry,” you huff, glancing down as he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “We don’t have time, and the floor is dirty. Just do it.”

“Just do it? How romantic,” he snorts before obliging and straightening back up. “Thought girls liked foreplay.”

“We do, but not in gross, dirty bathrooms.”

“Fine. Next time.”

And for some reason, the casual way he refers to the future makes your head spin. You always assume the two of you will continue from time to time. But hearing him promise to take care of you again…

It’s almost…nice?

Pushing the thought aside, you begin to turn around, hands pressing into the wall to brace yourself in preparation for what comes next.

But just as you’re getting comfortable, he suddenly grabs onto your hips, and spins you forward once again.

“No,” he murmurs softly, pretty green eyes trailing down your face. “No, I wanna see you this time.”

“Oh,” you whisper, skin growing hot as he steps between your legs. “Okay…?”

He grins lightly before reaching up to trail his thumb along your bottom lip. “I like watching you get all sappy when I fuck you. The way you grin when it feels good.”

Suddenly, your pulse starts to stagger. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like your smile.”

You suck in quiet breath. “I thought it creeped you out. That I had too many teeth.”

He chuckles to himself before taking hold of his cock and bringing it closer, trailing it between your legs. “You do. But that’s what makes you so beautiful.”

You think he must be out of his mind. Lost on the idea of sex and pleasure and SnakeBite’s. Tipsy and not all there. Because the Harry you know would never say something like that to you.

But you suppose you don’t really know Harry at all.

With that final thought, he hoists your leg over his hip, and begins to push in. It’s slow at first. You’re tense from the surroundings, from the loud sounds of the bar just on the other side of the wall, and from his admission.

But he loves it, cursing through gritted teeth before surging forward to kiss you. “Tink, you gotta fucking relax. Y’know I can’t do it if you don’t let me in.”

“Try…trying,” you pant, head falling back against the wall with a thud. “Sorry. Just go.”

He frowns, eyes rolling as his glasses begin to slip down the bridge of his nose. “M’not gonna go if you’re not stretched, Princess. I’m not trying to hurt you—”

“I don’t care,” you argue with a soft whine. “Really, I don’t care. Just go. Make it hurt.”

He releases your leg to slip his fingers just below your jaw, forcing your eyes on him. “Stop. M’not gonna do that, just relax.”

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your mouth. “Come on, sweetie. Know you can do it. Know you always take me so well, don’t you?”

You nod fervently. “Yes…yeah, yes—”

“Then take me,” he whispers, his free fingers finding your clit. He rubs, and presses, and pinches until he feels you begin to unwind. “There you go…there she is, that’s my girl. S’better, isn’t it? Yeah? Gonna let me in now?”

You can’t exactly speak, already lost in the pleasure and the fullness his thick cock provides as it pushes past your walls and settles nearly in your belly.

The sound you make is depraved and eager, and it makes him smile. “That good, huh? So fucking cute how cockdrunk you get.”

“Shut…up,” you huff before reaching for his hair. “Faster.”

“Faster,” he repeats to himself, hips pulling back just to snap forward. “Always want it fast, don’t you? Never want me to take my time.”

“Cause I don’t want your dick in me longer than it needs to be,” you retort, but you both know that’s not true. “Fucking hurry—”

With a sharp and sudden thrust, he changes the pace. Obeying your command for fast and hard as your bodies shake with pleasure and force.

And you imagine it should feel quite strange to be so enamored by one man – one cock. But here you are, panting, and gasping, and whimpering as he fucks you against this bathroom wall. Ignoring the pounding of the fists against the door from people wanting to be let in.

He kisses you. Kisses all of you. Your lips, your cheek, your chin, your nose, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Tugs on your skin with his teeth before flattening his tongue against the tortured flesh.

His hand dances underneath your shirt. Palm smoothing up your stomach and over the cup of your bra. Slipping just far enough inside to knead you in his grasp. Make you whimper and push closer.

And he’s so warm. All of him is warm and soft and strong. He smells like mahogany and sex, and he feels like ecstasy.

You love his hands. The veins in his arms, the bulge of his muscles. The tan of his skin and the way he holds you.

He might be infuriating, but my god is he fun to look at.

“Fucking shit,” he snaps, readjusting his angle to make sure he’s fucking into you just right. “So fucking good, Tink. You’re shaking, sweetie. You close already?”

You can’t respond with words, instead clenching around him in an effort to prove his point.

He smirks, quickly reaching up to push his glasses back into place. “Good. Want you to come all over my cock, baby. Want you to soak me. Can y’do that for me, Princess? Can you soak my cock?”

You think you know what he means, but truth be told, you aren’t sure if you can. You’ve only done it twice before – by your own hand, not his – and you wonder if you’d even be able to like this.

But the question is answered for you when he moves just enough to find that sweet, spongy spot that unravels you faster than lightning.

He hits it over and over and over – perhaps without even realizing – and when you suddenly begin to cry out his name…he understands.

He watches as it happens, aiding in your pleasure by spitting on his fingers and bringing them down to your clit.

The ministrations are ruthless and beautiful, and it almost distracts you from the gushing between your legs, and the way you soak his thighs.

“Shit,” you think you hear him groan, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. “So fucking good, Tink. Yeah, just like that. That’s good, baby, keep going. Give me all of it. Fucking all of it, sweetie, yeah.”

And just before you can go sliding down the wall out of pure exhaustion…he follows. Pressing his chest into yours to keep you upright as he spills inside your pussy, creating a bigger mess than before.

Everything is wet and sticky and warm. He’s breathing into your neck, holding onto your body so tight, you imagine you’ll see memories of him tomorrow.

And you stay, just for a moment. Learning how to take in air again and waiting for the feeling to return to your muscles.

“You okay?” he finally asks, exhaling the question into the sweaty skin of your throat. “Didn’t break you, did I?”

Your smile is lazy as you shake your head. “It would take a lot more than you to break me.”

And he laughs. In the kind of way that makes you clench around him again.

Which only makes him laugh harder.

“I fucking hope so.”

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hugshughes · 8 months

Text

The 1 A. Fantilli

Adam Fantilli x fem!reader

synopsis - based on “the 1” by Taylor Swift obvs. The school year starts back up at the University of Michigan and after your break up with Adam, you’re trying to live life freely but can’t seem to get the idea of him and your relationship off your mind. But what happens when you see him again, and you both are yearning for each other more than ever before?

wc - 4.5k (:0)

contains - lowkey angst but also very fluffy closure, reader cries, miscommunication a little bit (i know), kissing, cuddling. (if i missed anything please let me know!!!!)

an - this is the first part in my folklore 100 follower celebration! i’m so excited for it! i do not loveeee this but i really wanted to get this first part out! hopefully you guys like this! here is the masterlist to this celebration. me when im about to make a fic based off “the 1” have a happy ending 😊. also sorry this took longer than expected i has surgery the other day and did not pop back to normal like i assumed i would lmao. please someone get the betty refernce at the end ;))) also i still need a player to use for my betty fic for this celebration so… someone request someone. also this is barely edited so sorry. also should i make a taglist?? would anyone like that??

i’m doing good, i’m on some new shit. been saying “yes” instead of “no”.

To say you were definitely doing much better now that August had arrived was a true statement. You’d been a wreck most of the summer over your breakup with Adam, but as the summer started to slow down and your tan glowed, you felt you heart get lighter and rid itself of it’s burdens.

You and Adam had broken up just a little bit before the draft. The prospect of him being in Anaheim while you finished school in Ann Arbor sounded like an impossible feat to conquer.

You also knew what the newfound NHL fame would bring Adam, even more attention than before, new people, new friends, new girls surrounding him. And while you knew Adam would never in a million years cheat on you, you didn’t want him to feel like he had to be tied to something, someone, 2,234 miles away, to be exact.

When you watched the draft and saw Leo get drafted to Anaheim, your heart sank to your stomach. Many tears were shed that night, knowing the boy you loved with all of you wouldn’t be 2,234 miles away, only 190.

You assumed that if he wanted you back he would’ve called, or texted, or emailed, or sent a letter, anything. But you got nothing, so you accepted that he was perfectly okay with still being apart. Even though it did hurt because you remembered the night both of you cuddled close and whispered about how amazing it would be if he went to Columbus and not Anaheim.

i thought i saw you at the bus stop, i didn’t though.

When school started back up, you couldn’t help but see him everywhere you went. You did feel better, and you were healing, but it did instill an ache in your chest when you’d see your favorite study spot, your table at the starbucks right off campus, his dorm building, everything.

You even thought you saw him there once, your eyes widened with fear as you thought you saw him standing at a bus stop on campus but it wasn’t him, just another brunette boy, but not yours.

i hit the ground running each night. i hit the sunday matinée. you know the greatest films of all time were never made.

It was hard for about a week or so, being back in the place where you fell head over heels in love with him, but your friends would always be quick to cheer you up and tell you “it’s gonna be okay.” And most of the time you believed them.

You’d gone to many more parties than you had last year, you were usually trying to spend time with Adam and you two preferred being alone together than things like parties.

You felt the ache when you saw a guy taking his girlfriend to the Barbie movie, as stupid as that seems. You and your friends had all waited to see it until you were back together and you were all dolled up in your pink outfits. But you couldn’t help but have that same ache when you remembered Adam promising to take you to see if, and promising to wear pink just for you.

Obviously, that never happened. After the movie you couldn’t help but pull up your photos and scroll through your ‘Adam🤍’ album, the videos got to you the most.

Adam had made you film yourself when you opened your birthday gift from him, you had no idea why.

“Baby, why am I filming this?”

“Because, I want to be able to rewatch your reaction to it!”

You give him a funny look, and he urges you to open the big bag, seeing a jersey, a Michigan jersey. You’re pretty confused because you have a Fantilli jersey already, one you wear often. You pull it out of the bag and unfold it and turn it around, and then you see it. Instead of Fantilli across the back, it says “MY MAN”. Your jaw drops, you start laughing so hard, like stomach hurting from how hard you’re laughing.

Adam joins in your laughter, asking if you like it. You tackle him in a hug, kissing his cheek twice.

“It’s so perfect!”

The video was perfect, it ended in your phone falling from it’s propped up place on your desk as you kissed Adam. You felt happy and sad when you saw it. Happy that it happened, that you were able to ever experience that kind of love. Sad because it was all gone now.

i guess you never know, never know. and if you wanted me, you really should’ve showed. and if you never bleed, you’re never gonna grow.

You know that if you had the chance, you’d go back to Adam without thinking for two seconds. He was the best thing that you’d ever been graced with. He was everything to you, and you know that in a tucked away part of your heart he still is.

You just wish you both had tried harder, because you both loved each other with all of your beings. You just wished you both showed how much you really wanted it at the end, but both of you were scared of how the other was feeling.

but we were something, don’t you think so? roaring 20’s, tossing pennies in the pool.

In the middle of the night, when you’re staring at the ceiling of your room after watching Adam’s newest highlights you tend to always think about one thing; if he still thinks about you, the way you do him.

You hoped he did, you hoped you weren’t the furthest thing from his mind at all times. And if you were to ask him, he would tell you that you were all he could think of for months, you were the only thing on his mind when he woke up, and when he went to sleep. Columbus was fun, and new, and exciting, but you were everything to him.

Adam had hoped you’d send him a text the night of the draft, and then he’d be able to start talking to you again. But, you never texted, you were worried he wouldn’t care if you did. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself.

and if my wishes came true it would’ve been you.

You had wished on 11:11s, fallen stars, eyelashes, candles, four-leaf clovers, everything, that you and Adam would be together always, and that didn’t end when you broke up, you still wished for him, always.

in my defense, i have none. for never leaving well enough alone. but it would’ve been fun, if you would’ve been the one.

You always felt like you were doing something wrong towards the end of your relationship, not because of Adam. It was because you just had a voice in the back of your head telling you that you weren’t doing enough for him and that you were making him upset, and it led to you doing things to try to fix that but only would end up making things worse.

You just needed him always, you two were inseparable. You were at every home game, a good amount of the away games, and then you were almost always together during any free time you two had. While you were only together for about a year, you could see your life with Adam. He had said something to you about wanting to marry you, 5 months after you started dating. You were just it for each other.

i have this dream you’re doing cool shit. having adventures on your own. you meet some woman on the internet and take her home.

You think about if he has met another girl yet. You know that those hockey teams like going out together and they definitely attract lots of female attention. The ache came back at the thought of him sleeping in the same bed as another woman.

we never painted by the numbers, baby. but we were making it count.

Some people thought your relationship was, unrealistic, in a sense. You and Adam were together all the time, and it made certain family members and friends question what would happen after the draft came and Anaheim took your boyfriend from you. But obviously, Anaheim didn’t take your boyfriend, Columbus did, which made the breakup hurt even more.

Every minute you spent with Adam was full of love. There were very little disagreements, and the few that did take place were always out of love, which also made everything hurt more. No one could’ve seen your breakup coming, you two included, it just came up one night and ended up with you two calling it quits. It was the first time you’d ever seen Adam cry, and that broke you inside.

you know the greatest loves of all time are over now. i guess you never know, never know. and it’s another day waking up alone.

Sometimes you wake up and forget he’s not yours anymore, that he might even be someone else’s. And then you snap back to reality and it hits you like a train. Your roommates sometimes leave sticky notes to you that you’re gonna be okay, that’s everything’s okay. He was the greatest thing ever. Your love for him conquered all.

i, i, i persist and resist the temptation to ask you, if one thing had been different. would everything be different today?

You just play back every single moment in your head. Wondering if you’d done anything different if you’d still be his, if he’d still love you how he did. What you didn’t know was that he was doing the same exact thing 190 miles from you, resisting the urge to text you.

Adam was counting down the days until his birthday, praying that you would text him, allowing him to start a conversation with you. You were as well, having typed out your birthday message to him already, weeks early, waiting to be sent.

but we were something, don’t you think so? rosé flowing with your chosen family. and it would’ve been sweet, if it could’ve been me.

You two would spend nights with his friends, the boys he loved most, and his teammates because you wanted them to like you because he liked them. You wanted to be able to have their approval and you definitely did. Your friendships lasting with a few of the players, specifically Dylan Duke.

Dylan had been so incredibly sweet to you when you met, understanding how it probably felt to be surrounded by a team of boys who you didn’t know. He was someone you could hang out with at hockey parties when you felt like you were being too clingy to Adam.

in my defense i have none, for digging up the grave another time.

Dylan had been begging you to come to a hockey game since before the season started. And you were finally convinced so you are going to attend the 2nd Providence game. They won last night 2-4 and were hoping to do the same again.

You felt the ache when you were searching through your umich gear for your outfit to the game and found your Fantilli jerseys. You took a deep breath and pushed it off, grabbing a blue and maize crewneck and throwing it on over your leggings and blazers and leaving.

You got into the Children of Yost section pretty easily, but it was always a hassle nonetheless. You found some friends and stood with them, shouting cheers when the guys skated out.

You and your friends were pretty close to the glass in the student section, only a few rows back, so you were able to see the guys really well. You screamed when Dylan scored his first goal of the night, he saw you and laughed so hard. Luca, who was hugging his teammate was confused by how hard Dylan was laughing, and looked to see what the source of his entertainment was. When he saw you, jumping up and down with your friends, screaming for Dylan, he was shocked. Shocked you’d even come to a game. And then his eyes widened when he realized his brother was here, watching him play.

When the first period was over the Childen of Yost settled down and danced to the songs and did the little games that came up to on the jumbotron. Your fun halted when you saw Adam come up on the screen, the words “Welcoming back former Wolverines!” and his names flashing on it. Your friends saw and their jaws dropped. He hadn’t been at the game the night before, of course he hadn’t, of course this was the game he came to.

You brushed it off and insisted that you were fine. You continued to have fun and mess around with your friends during the break in between periods. But then Adam had the shock of his life, staring at the screen as the view of you and your friends dancing to American Boy by Estelle & Kanye as the cameras showed different groups of the Children of Yost.

The second he gets over his shock you’re off the screen, and he’s slightly leaning out of his seat, searching the crowd of the student section, and then he saw you, messing around and playing with your friends. Part of him wishes you were in his jersey, as unrealistic as that seems. He wonders if you still have his jerseys, if they’re in a thrift store somewhere, or if they’re tucked away in the bottom of a box in your room.

He knows Dylan probably convinced you to come, because Dylan was your favorite of his friends, and the two of you guys were “besties” whenever you were together. He wonders if you’ll go down towards the locker room after the game to see Dylan and if he’ll get to see you again.

The game ended soon enough, the guys winning 3-4 with 2 goals from Duker. He texted you after the game to come down, wanting to go to eat with you after.

from: Duka👊

Dude come down after I wanna go eat

from: Y/n/n🤝

idk duke i kinda wanna go home

from: Duka👊

Bro no you have to stop being a loser

from: Y/n/n🤝

fine.

He liked your message and you let out a sigh,

“Hey guys, I’m gonna go down and see Duke. I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

They nodded and gave you light hugs, telling you random things that are always part of girl goodbyes.

“Are you sure, do you think Adam’ll be down there, babe?”

You sighed again, shrugging, hugging her tighter.

“Don’t know, but I can’t let him stop me from doing things, right? If I see him, I see him. I don’t know if he’ll say anything to me, but if he does I’ll just talk to him normally, you know?”

The girls all nod, saying goodbye again, telling you things about your said “girl power”. You made your way through the arena, getting let through by security and heading back to the hall where the players come out.

You kept your head in your phone as you leaned against the wall, snapping people, scrolling through Instagram, and texting your mom about the game.

Dylan came out fast compared to usual. You high-fived him as he came up to you, congratulating him on his two goals. He thanked you and then was quick to try to get you guys to leave.

“Dylan, It’s okay. I know he’s here. I’m not gonna like, run away from him. Alright?”

“Yeah alright, he was just in the locker room and I was worried you might not know, 'cause I didn’t even know, so.”

You nodded and smiled at him, patting his shoulder in thanks. Then you realized he was missing something.

“Dylan, did you leave your phone in the locker room?”

He looked at you in confusion, then patting the pocket on his bag, and then his sweatpants pockets, then his sweatshirt pocket, but came up empty.

“Shit. Alright, I’ll be back in half a second, wait here.”

You nod and he hands you his backpack, racing back to the locker room. You put his bag on your back and look back at your phone again. And then you hear him, his laugh. You don’t even wanna look up, you glance out of the corner of your eye, seeing his silhouette.

You freeze in your stance, fingers pausing on your screen. You hear him, Luca, and Mark talking very loudly. Adam sees the bag on your back first “DUKE #25” along the side of it. Then he realizes it’s you. He quiets down very quickly, almost stopping in his tracks.

Luca notices his baby brother’s change in attitude instantly, whipping his head to the side, his eyes meeting your figure. Mark, somehow sees you and his mind doesn’t think for two seconds. He calls your name, happy as ever.

“Hey! Come here I haven’t seen you in forever. What’s up?”

You wince at his obliviousness, or maybe his uncaring of the situation. You squeeze your eyes shut for a second before putting a smile on.

“Hey Mark, I’m fine. How are you?”

He nods and replies, half hugging you and pulling you back towards his group. Luca quickly says hey to you, wrapping his arms around you briefly.

You look at Adam, your eyes softening. He looks at you as if you’re the only girl in the world, and to him, you are. You go to say hey to him but he hugs you before words can come out. He holds you so so tightly, and you practically grip him. Fuck, you missed him.

“Hey, Adam.”

You feel him take a deep breath in, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“Missed you.”

“Missed you too, Adam.”

You both seem to realize you aren’t alone and you pull away, clearing your throat as the other two boys look at you with huge smiles. You feel heat radiating from your cheeks as the four of you stand there.

The awkward silence is cut off by Dylan racing back through the hall.

“Hey dude, sorry I took so long. Ty started asking me about something-”

He stopped himself when he saw you standing inches from Adam, a blush covering your face. He tries to cover the smile overtaking his face.

“Oh hey guys, um well, we were about to go eat, you guys wanna join?”

Your eyes widened at Dylan, cursing at him in your head, hoping you’d gained mind powers that could disintegrate him. Just because you can stand here and hug him doesn’t mean you can sit and eat dinner with him.

Mark jumps to accept, telling you two that you should also invite the other guys still in the locker room. You agree, thinking the more the merrier for your situation. You and Dylan let the other guys know and then take off. In the car, you turn to Dylan and almost shout at him.

“Dylan Duke! What the fuck?”

He smiles at you, that stupid smile. You shake your head and sigh loudly leaning back against the headrest and closing your eyes.

“I saw how you were looking at each other in there. And Mark whispered to me about your hug. I know that this is for your own good dude. At least get civil with him.”

You sigh and nod, your eyes still closed. Dylan lets out a noise of agreement, and you two drive to your chosen restaurant.

When you pull up to a restaurant on a Saturday night and ask for a table for 10, you usually are looked at like you have two heads. But in Ann Arbor, when a umich hockey player comes in and asks that, they will make it happen.

You and Dylan were the first to get there, sitting across from each other at the far end of the table. Tyler, Rutger, and Ethan arrive next, Tyler sitting at the end chair between you and Dylan, and Rut and Eth sitting next to Dylan. Adam, Luca, and Mark arrived next. You watched Mark push Adam forward to sit in the space on your right.

He smiles at you awkwardly as he sits down next to you, making sure to leave a comfortable amount of space between you. Lastly, Seamus and Mackie arrive, taking the last two seats at the table. All the guys were talking around you while you checked your phone every minute or so to try to look busy. You glance to your side and notice Adam as bored as you.

“Hey Fants.”

His head quickly turns to you, a bright smile adorning his features.

“Hi.”

“How’s Columbus? Sorry I never congratulated you, I just-”

“Hey! It’s okay, I understand, alright? But it’s nice, I’ve made a couple of new friends and stuff. It was nice already knowing people there.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s really good Adam.”

Adam stared at you longingly as you stared at your fingers. You were messing with the rings you always wore, then realized how you were wearing your ring from Adam. You felt like you couldn’t let him see it, worried you might embarrass yourself. You covered your hand with your other, trying to make your position look as natural as possible.

When you looked back over to him and he was already staring at you, you swear your heart started pounding, even more so than already. His eyes looked sad, something so uncommon to see him feeling. He’d always been your happy boy, always bringing you up and making you better.

You would rather climb to the rooftops and scream to every Ann Arbor citizen of your everlasting love for Adam than even whisper it to him. His eyes, though, they’re like the ocean. One look and all of your senses are gone.

“I really missed you Adam.”

You didn’t look at him when you whispered it, you stared at the football game playing on the TV across the restaurant, the Bengals were winning by 14. Your hand pressed into the wood of your chair next to your thigh, running your fingers back and forth across the grain. You didn’t flinch physically when you felt his hand brush over yours, but your heart felt like it was about to implode.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.”

You finally got the courage to look into his eyes. You turn, just a little, and look at him, the raw look on his face, his glazed-over eyes, his bit at lips, your boy, he’d always been yours, always will be.

“And, you have no idea how badly I want to kiss you right now.”

He mumbled it, not caring if you heard or not, he just knew he had to say it, if not to you then to admit it to himself, that he wanted to kiss you.

Adam watched as your eyes widened innocently, he loves everything you do. He just stared, he knew you heard him, he didn’t know what to do after that, and neither did you. You seemed to have gotten lost in the moment, forgetting about the 8 other hockey players surrounding you, who had honestly mostly just stopped really talking to each other and were mostly watching you and Adam.

In that moment, you couldn’t even hear them, you couldn’t even see them. They were blurry, muted, and muffled, but looking at Adam, it was so clear. You weren’t thinking, you were just following whatever split-second decision your heart made and grabbed his face, kissing Adam. You fucking kissed him. His hands wrapped around your wrists, kissing you back immediately. You kissed for maybe three seconds, the hustle and bustle all around coming back to you.

You pulled away from him first, if it was his choice he would’ve made out with you right there in front of everyone. You looked at him with wide eyes, and he still had his big beautiful smile. You hear an ‘oh shit’ come from Luca’s mouth, and then the rest of the guys at the table going crazy and immediately feel embarrassed. Your face burns as you quickly wipe your lips with your sleeve, burying your face in your hands as a smile reluctantly makes its way to your face.

Adam has the biggest grin on his face as he scoots his chair closer to you, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close. Adam’s hand rests on your hip, tracing shapes already like it was never gone. Like it was home after being away for far too long. You know the two of you would have a big conversation about everything later. But for right now, you just let him hold you, and you let him order for you, because he always knew what you wanted, even now.

When dinner came, Adam’s hand left your hip, but it ended up holding yours under the table like you were two fourteen-year-olds hiding from your parents. He started messing with your hand, pulling it more into his lap so he could play with it with both of his hands. He’d always done this when you were together, he would mess with your hand while he talked to others at dinners or parties or anything.

Adam was shocked when he felt it, the cool band on your ring finger. He looked down at your hand, eyes widening when he saw his ring still adorning your finger. He stared at you with so so much love in his eyes, from across the table, Luca could see how happy his baby brother was, and he was so thankful for you.

“You still have my ring on.”

You couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement when he whispered to you. You looked down at the band on your finger, smiling sheepishly at him and blushing. You nodded slowly, not knowing how to explain it to him.

“I just really like it. And I just really like you, so.”

He laughs, nodding at you with amusement, letting out an ‘Oh yeah?’ to which you nod assuringly.

You knew he was the 1. You’d known when he had first introduced himself to you. You could tell that this new beginning to your relationship was going to last, that the time apart only made you both stronger. You’d always loved him, and always will, and if kissing him in a crowded restaurant in front of all of his stupid friends is what it takes to have him, you definitely would.

but it would’ve been fun, if you would’ve been the one.

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 9 months

Text

𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞

Summary: Captured by Danes as a young child, you never thought you'd escape...until you were saved by a certain baby monk.

Warnings: triggering content (past sexual assault), PTSD, flashbacks, angst, Osferth being a sweetie (aka fluff), crisis of faith, and religious talks

word count | 5.3k🤙🏻

part 1 | part 2

You didn’t remember much before you were captured by the Danes.

You were just a little thing, barely even old enough to take care of yourself. So when your family was killed in front of you, you had no choice but to be subjected to the wills of your captors. You couldn’t run, you couldn’t fight, you couldn’t scream. It was a hellish existence, demons always right behind you, breathing down your neck.

You were forced to grow up with these savages, watching them pillage and murder like they didn’t know how to do anything else. They tried to make you like them, but even as a child, your family instilled such a strong faith in you that to become like a Dane was unthinkable. And they tried to break you, so many times, almost allowing the demons following your every move get closer and closer. But as you made your way into womanhood with still no cracks in your convictions, they decided you were no good for anything but work and…other things.

Getting used almost every day by your captors was the only thing that threatened to break your spirit. They were callous, uncaring about your pain, further proof that Danes were the source of all evil and that you’d eventually die by their hands.

You were always numb; unmoving. To anyone else, you may have looked lifeless if not for the man above you using your body like you were his own personal toy.

Sometimes, you wish to be killed, even thinking about disobeying or fighting back just to have your wishes fulfilled. Most of all, you wished death upon your master. You wished to be the one to kill him. But you were only a woman, inferior, weak. But your spirit was strong, it must’ve been to survive every single torturous exchange by the hands of your master. And that was something no one would ever be able to take away from you, or so you hoped.

One day, you snapped. You actually tried to fight back, but that only got you punished so severely, you didn’t wake for days. After that, you started to wonder, if God did exist, why did He let all this happen to you? Why did He let one of his children be violated each and every day, let you be beaten and forced to do the Danes’ bidding? It didn’t make any sense. You hated Him…you fucking hated Him. You couldn't devote your life to some being that seemed indifferent to suffering. But ironically, it made your existence as a Dane’s slave much worse, now that you had nothing to hope for. No warrior of God would come to save you, no reward at the end of your life, no “well done, my good and faithful servant,” once you got to Heaven.

You completely gave in to your fate, not even bothering to fight back or argue with your masters anymore, thus, allowing your demons to take over.

As the days went on after your loss of faith, the idea of staying in the company of the Danes got more and more unbearable. As your master was using you for his own pleasure for the umpteenth time, you decided that you wouldn’t take it anymore. Taking your own life was thought to be a sin in your religion, but then you remembered, you didn’t follow it anymore. So really, you had nothing to lose.

But then, your master was suddenly pulled away and turned around, blocking the view of the culprit. Perhaps it was another man who was tired of waiting his turn.

Then you felt a splash of something wet. It was red, it stained your dress and skin. Blood. Your master’s blood, you were covered in it. A sword had been pushed through his stomach, all the way until it stuck out his back. Only when he fell to the ground could you see who killed him.

It was a young man, no older than you were. He was wide eyed in panic, his blue irises piercing even in the dim lighting of the room. His eyebrows were furrowed in a way that expressed concern that was directed towards your frozen form. He looked as though he did not know whether to help you or run away, or to cry really. “Are you alright, miss?” He asked as soft as his voice, but you didn’t know how to respond. No, you weren’t but yes, you were, now that your evil master was dead. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. You’re safe now.”

Safe? What did safe even mean? You’ve never known what it was like to be safe, why would following this man be any different?

“My lord will keep you safe, he is an honorable man.” You looked down from the young man’s face to his chest, seeing a wooden cross hanging loosely from his neck. You could have laughed, the irony was not lost on you, of course. “You don’t have to, of course. But…you’re bleeding. Please, let me help clean your wounds, at least.” He was…giving you a choice? You’ve never been allowed a choice before. He cautiously held out his larger hand towards you, his innocent pleading eyes almost mirroring yours from a long time ago, whereas now yours were blank and cold from years of torture. But seeing his seemingly caring expression, you figured it couldn’t get much worse. Everything horrible that life had to offer had already been done to you.

You were surprised how warm his hand was as you shakingly reached out to it, every other hand that has touched you always so rough and cold, but his weren’t. “It’s okay…” He spoke so softly, you almost had to strain to hear him. You were like a baby deer, him being so afraid to spook you, but he just didn’t know you still had a death wish.

When the Coccham squad came across your little village, it was chaos. Danes, killing and assaulting each other, they had only heard horror stories about places like these villages. Danes weren’t normally like this, Uhtred could attest to that. Danes took care of each other, they never would kill one of their own without reason. At least, that’s how Uhtred saw it. This village you were in, there was no saving them. They had encountered a few Danes from your village on the road, and friendly they were not. They had killed one of Uhtred’s men, and he wouldn’t let that slide.

There were many slaves in the village, you being one of them. Uhtred and his team snuck in and killed every Dane they could find, freeing every slave in the process. Osferth had grown more confident in his fighting skills, didn’t cry every time he killed someone, and the thought he’d be helping people in the process made it easier. Uhtred didn’t feel he needed to be babysat anymore, he trusted that he could take care of himself. So everyone split up throughout the village to cover more ground, and it must’ve been some sort of luck or divine intervention that Osferth found you.

Osferth wasn’t completely naïve anymore, having more experiences with Uhtred’s team in the couple years spent with him than his whole life of being a monk. But when he came upon you being violated by your master, the first thought that went through his head was how could someone do that to someone else? Anger coursed through his veins, an anger that he’d never felt before, a dangerous anger that scared him. For the first time, he felt pleasure in taking someone’s life. The filth that was rutting against you deserved the most painful death anyone could possibly imagine, but Osferth just wanted to save you as quickly as he could, thrusting his sword into the creature’s chest. He didn’t even have time to savor the moment, wanting to make sure you were okay.

You were bleeding, wounds and bruises all over your body. But what was most concerning for Osferth, was the fact that you didn’t seem bothered at all. There was no light behind your eyes, like you were alive but not really living. Which makes sense considering all you must’ve gone through over the years. He didn’t want to scare you, speaking as softly as he could without being inaudible. But you didn’t flinch, not even when he reached out to you. You took his hand without question, and Osferth didn’t know if he should’ve been relieved or even more worried.

Osferth brought you to a secluded part of the village, where no dead bodies could be seen. You’ve probably seen worse, but he didn’t want to subject you to any horrors, even if those dead bodies brought you just as much harm as the man he killed himself. He sat you down gently, near a water well, using the cool water to wash away your master’s blood that mixed with yours.

You didn’t speak as he helped soothe some of your wounds, and he started to wonder if you were mute or simply too traumatized. “I am Osferth. What’s your name, miss?” He asked, breaking the tense silence. But you didn’t answer, staring ahead despondently. Osferth smiled weakly, slightly shaking his head. “That’s alright. You don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. Whenever you’re ready.” If you were ever ready, that was.

Osferth led you to where they set up camp just outside your village, sitting you down outside his tent next to a fire to warm you. You looked slightly worried at the man that was cleaning blood off his weapons, but seeing a similar cross around his neck, you didn’t feel you needed to run or fight. “This is Finan, he also helped free your village.”

“Why’d you bring her here?” Finan asked.

Osferth blushed. “I thought…she could travel with us, if she has nowhere else to go. Or if she wants to.”

Finan scoffed a laugh. “Did she tell you she wanted to?” But Osferth stayed quiet. “Uhtred will not be happy about another mouth to feed.”

“Uhtred will understand.” Osferth insisted, not leaving any room for argument, forcing Finan into a begrudging silence.

Suddenly, Osferth heard you let out a panicked gasp, whimpering and pulling out of his delicate grasp. He looked behind himself where you were staring, seeing his lord Uhtred. “A Dane…” You trembled fearfully.

“No, no, no, that’s my lord, Uhtred. He’s not gonna hurt you. He’s a good man.” Osferth tried to reassure you, but your fearful expression didn’t change.

“Osferth?” Uhtred spoke, looking back at you in curiosity.

Osferth placed you inside of his tent and went to Uhtred to push him away to speak with him. “I’m sorry, my lord. But I feel it is best if you don’t let her see you. She’s terrified of Danes.”

“You know I’d never hurt a woman.” Uhtred hissed, offended.

“She…her master was assaulting her when I saved her.” He whispered, Uhtred’s expression darkening. “Please just, let me take care of her.”

“Osferth, I’m sorry, but she’s not our concern. We have to travel back to Coccham and-”

“In all respect, my lord, I don’t care. I wanna help her…okay?”

Uhtred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, Osferth, fine. But she’s your responsibility.”

“...thank you, lord.”

Osferth grimaced when he saw you flinch when he entered his tent, carrying a bowl of hot soup. “My lady,” He kneeled down beside you, holding out the bowl, “you must be hungry? It’s not much, but it’ll push the hunger pains away for a little while.”

You took the bowl wordlessly, closing your eyes in contentment at the taste. “Thank you…” You whispered, trying your best to give him a weak smile. “For saving me.”

Osferth couldn’t help but blush under your grateful gaze, a bashful smile gracing his own face. “I was only doing the right thing, miss.”

You didn’t speak much throughout the journey back to Coccham, only thanking Osferth whenever he brought you food and drink. Nobody pushed you to talk, knowing only what Osferth told them was enough to try to give you your space. But in the rare times you did speak, you never spoke to anyone except Osferth. He figured it was because he was possibly the first friendly face you had encountered. He saved your life, perhaps it formed some sort of attachment.

Osferth could tell him getting you to join them was a bit of an annoyance to the rest of the group, and the fact you only ever responded to him didn’t make matters any better. But he wanted to make sure you were okay, he wouldn’t be a good man if he just left you back at the village. Though, he felt ashamed, but he kind of liked that he was the only one you spoke to. He decided you just needed some time to get adjusted to a new free life, and maybe a few weeks in Coccham would give you some comfort.

You never expected you’d get to share a little home, having been used to just sleeping on a dirt ridden blanket on the floor, or even having been forced to sleep in a barn with the animals. So that fact that you had your own bed, it brought tears to your eyes, reminding you of a time when you were with people who actually cared about you. Perhaps Osferth was trying to be that for you again, though you didn’t know how you felt about sharing a house with him, even if for a time until your own house was made should you choose to stay.

Even though you didn’t have much, you found yourself unpacking what little you had and placed the various things around your new room just to distract yourself. You never had a room to decorate before, you immediately thought of plants, flowers that could survive in the winter. Pansies, which you remembered being your mother’s favorite.

You looked down at your hand, clutching the only thing you had left of your family; a small amber gemstone. You had done everything you could to keep this with you over the years, hiding it from your masters where they would never find it. But now that you’re free of them, you have no use to hide it anymore. You thought it would look nice on your own small mantel in your room. Turning around towards your mantel, you froze when you saw Osferth standing in your doorframe, leaning against the wall. “Settling in okay?”

You nodded meekly. “Yes.” You whispered, ignoring the nerves in your gut and walking to place the amber on the mantel, unwanted tears coming to your eyes at the sight, wiping them away before they even had a chance to fall.

“May I ask what happened to you, miss?” Osferth asked softly, but immediately regretted it when your face fell. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Please, forgive me.”

You shook your head. “It’s alright…it’s natural to be curious, I suppose.” You paused, clearly contemplating the right action before a pained expression came over your visage. “I’d prefer not to speak of it…” You sighed heavily.

“Of course…I’ll leave you to it then.”

You didn’t know why you had a pang of disappointment when Osferth left, his presence somehow more comforting than when you were alone. You chose to ignore it. Though, it seems like Osferth himself had trouble staying away from you. Whether it was just checking up on you or simply wanting to be in your company, he was practically attached to you from the hip. You still had issues talking to anyone else, Osferth would help you get your point across whenever you needed. Despite his lack of personal space, you were thankful for him. He never let anyone push you to speak, or even try to talk to you without your permission for that matter. He was a bit overprotective, but you’d never experienced it before, or at least haven’t in a long, long time. It was nice to feel cared for, even if you still had difficulty trusting said kindness.

For Osferth, he fell for you pretty quickly. Despite having matured much in Uhtred’s company, his heart was still prone to a sort of childlike wonder and optimism, certain traits like those often getting him picked on by his friends. Though, Osferth never wanted his heart to harden like the company he kept. He never wanted to be a brooding pessimist like his lord, nor use sarcasm as a defense mechanism like he’s seen Finan or Sihtric do so often. He was always taught to be kind to others, not to judge as that’s the Lord’s business to judge. Those traits instilled in him from birth, it was no wonder he always fell fast and hard.

Osferth thought he had been in love several times, from women he had one night stands with to women who politely smiled in his direction…another thing he got picked on about. You were no exception. As soon as he laid his eyes on you, even with the circumstances, he thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. And that opinion never seemed to lessen in its sincerity, in fact, it seemed to deepen the more he spent time with you.

The more time you stayed in Coccham, the more your true personality started to show. Now that you weren’t fearing for your life constantly, Osferth noticed you had a decent sense of humor. You would understand his jokes and chuckle at them, still too shy to allow yourself a full belly laugh, but he was more than content with what you managed to give him. Every giggle you made always caused blood to rush to his cheeks…and a little other places, though he felt guilty every time it happened. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.

Osferth attempted to hide his shock when one day you approached him, asking him to teach you how to defend yourself, but his eyes widened despite his attempts, causing you to shy away but he didn’t let you. He was elated that you wanted to learn, and in all honesty, Osferth would feel a lot more at ease if he knew you could defend yourself.

Osferth still wasn’t the most skilled at combat, everything he learned from Finan, so he figured the Irishman would be the most qualified for the job. But soon into the session, he realized it was the worst idea he had ever had. Finan was serious about combat, never taking it easy when teaching Osferth, he didn’t know why he thought he would be gentle with you. He seemed to overwhelm you pretty quickly, knocking your training sword out of your hands with ease, just to tease you, which you obviously didn’t appreciate. Finan was prone to being a bit aggressively playful, which is tolerated and even enjoyed by some, but it was not what you needed at that moment. Every parry by Finan, who had a constant smirk on his face, seemed to upset you more and more…until something seemed to snap in you.

The dull sword shook in your hands, a feeling of overwhelming panic washing over you. You couldn’t tell why, you were in a safe environment where you knew no one would intentionally hurt you, but as you watched Finan attempt to strike at you with his own sword, you only saw your former master.

You blocked Finan’s blow out of pure instinct and fear, but he only saw it as that you were learning, earning praise from him. “Good.” But it wasn’t his voice, there was no accent that resembled Finan’s at all, nor pitch. It was him. Could you never escape?

Fearfully, like a cornered animal, you swung at the man wildly. No technique or thought behind the blows, all you wanted was your sight to be rid of him. You sobbed and screamed, desperate to escape, desperate to kill. But the man kept evading your blows with ease, mocking laughter filling your ears, spurring you on further in a rage. You felt your blade hit something, and an almost feeling of relief washed over you, but it wasn’t enough. You barely could sense your surroundings, up until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you.

Osferth was frozen as he watched the interactions, unsure of the best decision and terrified of making the wrong one. It was clear you weren’t there anymore, not really, your mind forced back into the state you were before you were rescued, but no one else clued in on it. Not even Finan, who he figured was just playfully excited that you were being more aggressive, making the training session all the more worthwhile. But Osferth saw the frightened look on your face, immediately telling him that something was wrong. He finally made a move when you had almost connected your blade to his neck, if it had been a non-training sword, would have the capacity to cut Finan’s head clean off.

Finally, Finan seemed to sense something was wrong too. His laughter stopped and his expression fell, realizing that you were actually trying to hurt him. He hesitated for the briefest moment, but that was enough for your sword to actually connect to his body. The dull blade hit his shoulder, your fear seemingly amplifying your strength, making Finan fall on the cold ground. “Hey, hey, hey-!” Finan started to shout in a panic as you surged forward, your sword raised above your head, prepared to strike. But Osferth came to Finan’s rescue, and yours too.

Osferth wrapped his arms around you, ripping the sword from your hands quickly to prevent further injuries. You flailed about, screaming to the top of your lungs, demanding he let you go. But he knew he couldn’t, not when you were like this, a danger to others but most of all, yourself. All he thought to do in the moment was whisk you away, back to your shared home. “I thought this was only supposed to be training, lass, not an actual fight!” Finan called out angrily.

“Don’t.” Osferth called out sternly, shocking the Irishman and the rest of his friends.

Osferth tried his very best to use soothing words to calm you down as he walked you back to your home, guiding you to your bed and repeating that you were safe. Whatever you think you saw wasn’t real. Once you realized you were indeed safe, you clinged onto Osferth, your arms tightening around his shoulders, not allowing him to leave your side, not that he ever wanted to. He’d stay by your side forever if he could. But you settled, slowly releasing him from your grip, your expression bashful and ashamed; Osferth could already tell where your mind was at.

“I don’t know what happened…” You whispered, your voice cracking. “I-I was fine one moment and then…” You whimpered, huffing angrily, willing yourself not to burst into tears again. You relaxed again slightly when Osferth ran a soothing hand up and down your back, his presence more than comforting. He started to feel…like a safe space. “I kept seeing him…in my mind’s eye. The image wouldn’t go away and I felt like I was back in that village, back in his house and forced to-” You quickly cut yourself off, not sure if you were even ready to say the words out loud.

Osferth shook his head, grabbing a hold of your hand and squeezing gently. “You don’t have to say any more.” he reassured. “You’re safe here. No one's ever gonna hurt you again, not while I’m still breathing. One day, all those memories will become so distant they’ll be like a dream. It won’t hurt as much anymore. Time heals all. You’ll see.” Your gaze was so transfixed onto him, Osferth thought the skin of his cheeks would burst from all the blood that rushed to them. His own gaze fleeted from your eyes to your lips, over and over again on a loop, his own lips tingling with the thought of how easy it would be to just…lean forward and make that connection.

But no, Osferth respected you too much. He’d never push your boundaries, nor with anyone, but especially not with you. He tried to ignore your confused expression as he quietly excused himself, stating that you should find rest, leaving your bedroom in a hurry, retreating to his own room to steady his rapidly beating heart. Maybe it was a mistake to have you living with him…

Even after your first lesson not going the way you planned, you still wanted to learn to fight. Finan, unsurprisingly, was more than hesitant to teach you again, so it was up to Osferth, not that he minded. He let you take a couple days to gather yourself, recover, for it was best to train with a clear head. Unlike Finan, Osferth went more easy on you, giving you a fair challenge but not babying you. You seemed to have more fun with Osferth’s training style, a determined smile on your face never falling during that first lesson. He figured you appreciated his style, but you just loved being around him regardless of the situation, not that you’d ever admit this. Not yet, at least. And slowly but surely, over the course of a couple weeks, you felt you’d be able to handle yourself with a sword. The feeling was empowering, knowing you’d be able to fight and hold your own. All thanks to Osferth.

You still had much to learn, but you just had to thank Osferth for all he had done for you. After a training session, he looked so…pretty. Sweat beaded his brow, his chest expanding with each deep breath he took, a proud smile on his face at your progress. You didn’t think before you kissed his cheek, a shocked expression coming over your face as well as his. You almost regretted it until he grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with pure joy, making your heart warm. “Thank you, sweet Osferth, for everything.”

You had finally started to find some semblance of peace with your life in Coccham, mostly because of Osferth. Most of the time, you were content, spending time training with the baby monk being the highlights of the day. You just wished it was always day. You wished the sun never set and the world was never covered in darkness, you started to despise it. You realized that nights were the worst.

Every shadow you might’ve seen, or any twig that snapped under the pressure of various wildlife that were roaming their woods, it always startled you, pushing you to the verge of a panic attack. You felt so vulnerable in the darkness. Constantly. It didn’t help that the company you kept didn’t even try to keep themselves out of trouble, if anything they went out of their way to find trouble. While that might not have been exactly true, your traumatized mind found the extreme in everything.

You could scarcely find sleep with tossing and turning in fear and paranoia that your master would rise from the grave to steal you away again. You’d always finally find sleep once the sun had already started to rise. It was frustrating, you were angry that your mind still tormented you so. You were free now, so why couldn’t your mind comprehend it?

You knew you were fitful in your sleep, whenever you managed to find it. But no one had ever mentioned you making much noise when traveling back to Coccham, until one night.

Even after staying in this new town for over a month now, you still had such bad nightmares in the form of embellished memories, your subconscious making them seem even worse. One particular nightmare had you gasping awake, a scream escaping your mouth as you sat straight up in your bed in a cold sweat, your heart beating so fast you thought it would stop.

Osferth had heard you from across the little house, immediately brandishing his sword to frighten away or kill whatever or whoever dared to hurt you. But unfortunately, Osferth’s sword couldn’t scare away your own mind. “My lady?” He asked, panicking at your state.

You were hysterical, unable to even say more than stuttering apologies. Osferth went straight to you, ignoring the boundaries he set for himself just for you, bringing your shaking frame into his arms to try to soothe you, cooing comforting words in your ears. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s okay now, sweet girl. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

“Osferth…” You spoke in broken sobs, leaning into his touch while your body heaved with the pain of your memories.

“I’m here, love. I’m here.” Osferth’s heart broke for you, just imagining what you might’ve gone through to have nightmares that elicited such reactions from you. It also brought back that similar dangerous anger that rooted itself deep in his heart, making him hold you tighter, his expression hardening and willed anyone who was curious to keep away lest they wanted to be up close and personal with his fists.

After a few minutes of crying onto Osferth’s chest, your body finally started to stop shaking. “I’m sorry…bad dreams.” You stuttered, even though they weren’t just dreams.

“You have nothing to apologize for, my lady. I can’t imagine…” Osferth sighed, choosing not to finish that sentence. “I hate that you are troubled so. Is there anything I can do to make it better?” He moved to pull away, to fetch you water or whatever you so wished, but he was surprised to find you didn’t want to let him go.

“Can you…stay with me?” You asked timidly. “I’ve learned I don’t like sleeping by myself.”

Osferth’s expression softened, settling himself back beside you, placing an arm over your shoulders to pull you to him gently. “Of course, my lady. I’ll always stay with you, if that’s what you desire. Now, try to get more sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake. I’ll have no harm come to you ever again. I swear on the cross.”

You looked up at him, your eyes heavy with exhaustion, but no sleep could come to you when you had so many questions. “Why are you so kind to me? You don’t have to be, but you are.”

Osferth blushed, smiling bashfully. “It’s the Godly thing to do, miss. Treat others that way you’d want to be treated.”

You frowned. “I’ve never been treated with much kindness throughout my life.”

“It shouldn’t have been that way. You deserved kindness and respect, much like anyone else. But the fact that you yourself are still kind and respectful, despite all you’ve been through, is a testament to how strong you truly are, my lady.” Now it was your turn to blush, hiding your face from his view by cuddling into his chest.

“I don’t feel very strong most days, not with my mind so…shattered.” You sighed, fiddling with the cross necklace he wore. “How do you keep your faith, Osferth, when you’ve seen so much death and cruelty in the world?”

Osferth frowned. “I will not say it isn’t difficult, my lady. But all of this has to have some meaning, doesn’t it? If there is no reward after death for our good deeds, why do we bother at all? My faith remains strong because of all the good I’ve seen, in spite of the bad. The ability to be kind towards others, to show empathy, to protect the ones you love…those are all Godly things, innit?”

Osferth shifted, moving to sit up, you moving with him with a curious expression decorating your features as he removed his cross. “Here,” He placed the cross around your neck, the feeling of rough callousness of his fingers along the sensitive skin making gooseflesh rise along your body, “I want you to have this, my lady. Perhaps, let it be a reminder that there is good in this world, even if some days it doesn’t feel like it.”

You didn’t realize it until right then, but you were in love with Osferth.

Don't worry, there's gonna be a part 2. I wouldn't do that to y'all🥰 next part is gonna be even more angst and some smutty smut, so if anyone wants to be tagged for that, just let me know💕

#the last kingdom #the last kingdom osferth #osferth the last kingdom #osferth #osferth x reader #osferth x fem!reader #osferth x f!reader #osferth imagine #osferth tlk #tlk osferth

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adventuringblind · 8 months

Text

I See Your Smile

(Part two of I see your beauty)

Charles Leclerc x blind!Verstappen!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, FLUFF

Request: no but they are open!!

Summary: after the events with Jos, Charles makes it a point to make sure he helps you see everything Jos didn’t let you

Warnings: mentions of verbal and physical abuse, car accidents, drinking and driving, zero proofreading

Notes: written in third person

Masterlist

It had been a miracle when Jos started leaving her alone. She finally got some reprieve. She was able to build up her confidence due to the lack of constant insults.

This was thanks to Charles. He’d practically forced her to move in with him. Immediately after the events in the Redbull garage, Charles and Max were quick to move her out of there and make some security adjustments.

The lovely bruise on her forehead was still healing. The force Jos had used to throw the phone and given her some lovely damage. As if the emotional damage wasn’t enough.

Jos wasn’t allowed back into the paddock. Security had been made aware of what happened and that he was now prohibited from entering. For both hers and Max’s safety.

Victoria had flown down to see them both that same day. The youngest having called her to explain what happened. She filled her siblings to Monaco to help them move Y/N into Charles’ apartment.

She’d been here before. Often going back and forth between Charles and Max over the breaks. Max was just glad he was close by and could still be the overprotective big brother.

One she frequently got annoyed with.

Charles spent time trying to help her be in a better place. She spent time letting him rant about his teams poor strategy and lack of listening skills.

The blindness was obviously where she struggled. Always feeling dependent on others. Her dad had made her feel like she couldn't be blind and that it's something to despise about herself.

He'd told her it was her fault. That she was cursed. Maybe even diseased. A failure.

He pushed her to do more even though it was dangerous.

The instilled recklessness was probably the scariest thing for Charles. She was prone to doing things on her own that she had even said were dangerous.

She went walking without her cane one night to grab something from the store last minute. Charles had been in a meeting all day and passed out as soon as he got home. His attempt at dragging her to bed with him was futile.

She didn't think anything about the walk. She knew her way to the convenience store. She'd pratically memorized every step.

Night was more difficult because even with the vision she had left, she couldn't rely on it. But still she tried. Her determination to be independent and not wake-up Charles was willing her down the sidewalk.

Nightlife, however, can be a scary thing. Cars and drivers are unpredictable. People still haven't learned their lesson about drinking and driving

She came to the crosswalk. A four-way stop that was often busy during the day. She listened for any cars, only hearing one speeding in the distance. She started to cross after deeming it safe.

The car had sounded so far away. Sure, it was speeding, but how could it have gotten to her so fast? She was so close to the other side. So, the safety of the sidewalk.

She was standing, and then she was on the ground. Ears ringing and head aching.

A man got out of the car and started trying to see if she was okay. His words slurred, and the potent smell of alcohol dripped from his breath.

She was trying to figure out her surroundings. The bringt headlights and dark spots now render her entirely without vision.

Onlookers saw and called the authorities. It didn't take long for someone to arrive and help her back to safety. Her anxiety was settling now that she was no longer feeling her way around the street.

She didn't want to go to the hospital. She'd hated it ever since her dad basically left her their alone. Her brain struggling to seperate the two events.

She needed Charles.

They were doing the usual tests, trying to find any damage that had been done. Her tears silent as they worked.

The doctors were nice and gentle with her. They could tell she was uncomfortable and probably in pain.

Her phone had been shattered again. Charles had just purchased her a new one not that long ago.

The nurse was trying to call Charles or Max. Whichever one picked up first.

Seeing as Max is a night person, it ended up being him. He rushed out of the house, explaining to Kelly on the way out what happened.

Charles was awoken by the sound of banging at the front door. He shot out of bed dazed. He hadn't realized how long he slept for.

He checked his phone. It was now was 10 p.m. and he had several missed calls and a text.

A text from her saying that she had gone to get something from the store. His stomach dropped. He hated when she walked alone in the dark. But maybe she was at the door and needed him to let her in.

He rushed to the front of the apartment and swung the door open. It wasn't who he was expecting, though. Max was standing their out of breath. His clothes disheveled.

"Y/N is at the hospital."

Max drove them both. They were doing their best not to panic, but it was obvious.

Max had explained what had happened. She was thankfully not hurt too bad. But the nurse said she kept crying and saying she was fine. Even trying to leave before they were done.

Max knew why. She'd hated hospitals after the incident. He hated watching her cry every time they went for a doctors appointment.

When they arrived, the nurse brought them straight back to her. Charles almost broke at the sight of her curled up in the bed.

Max was getting the rundown of what happened. A lovely broken rib. A sprained wrist. A concussion from hitting her head on the concrete. He told Charles to be gentle with her, then left to sign some papers and get the pain meds they were sending her home with.

Charles sat on the edge of her bed. Gently stroking her leg. The gesture a small comfort to her.

"I'm sorry. I promise it's fine. I know it's my fault." She sniffles.

Charles was going to throw hands with Jos if he ever saw him again. "Mon Chère, don't apologize for this. The driver was to blame."

She moved to fave more towards him. Moving her hand into his. Letting her read him through his gestures.

"It was dangerous, though. I would have driven you."

She frowned. He was so concerned for her. It felt strange in comparison to how she was raised. "I didn't want to bother you... or look dependent and incapable."

"You will never have to worry about that with me."

He lifted her knuckles to his mouth and gave them a gentle kiss. The gesture causing her to smile ever so slightly.

"I love when you smile."

Safety became less of a problem after that. Charles had made it a priority. It became second nature after a while.

Next on the list was her confidence. It was absolutely ridiculous what what Jos had made her believe.

The older man was still doing it now. After she blocks his number, he'd get a new one. The man is crazy in Charles' eyes.

She was trying to cook one night. She'd become decent at it despite the limitations. Often using Charles to cut vegetables and not letting him do anything else.

This particular night, she'd received a call from her father. He'd heard about the accident from the news.

He shouted words at her through the phone. Asked if the times he made her walk across the track wasn't enough to teach her.

She spent the day crying after that.

Charles knew something happened when he returned to the apartment. She was trying to hide it, but the look in her eyes and determination to cook on her own told him everything he needed to know.

She was struggling. Her toes find every corner. Pans slip onto the floor. Is was catastrophic.

Eventually, she gave up. Finding the floor and letting the tears of hurt and frustration roll.

Charles sat down next to her and pulled her body into his. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked softly.

"He called again today. Said that I should have gotten hit by a car when he made me walk back and fourth on the track when Max was driving. I didn't tell Max because otherwise he would've stopped practice."

Charles ran his hand in circles around her back.

"Why am I so weak? Max and Victoria are so much more than I will ever be."

"No, hush. Don't say such things." He caressed her face with her hands. "You are the strongest person I know."

Charles peppers her face with kisses, making her giggle.

"What do you say we clean this up and go get pizza?"

Doctors appointments were always a struggle. Charles basically had to drag her by her teeth. Sometimes it took him and Max.

This was one of those times.

She was crying in the passenger seat of the car. Clutching the same stuffed animal she brought to every visit. It was something she learned to do after the accident. Jos had a habit of leaving her at the office and not picking her up until late at night. Her only comfort to soft toy.

When he would come pick her up, he would rant about how frustrating she is. Tell her all the cruel things he needed in order to make himself feel better.

Now that fear was evident. She didn’t want to be left at the place she hated most for hours. She didn’t want to be berated for something that wasn’t her fault.

Charles can see her eyes, glassed over and distant. He places a comforting hand on her knee as he drives.

She’d been like this since Max managed to coax her into the car. Charles was thankful he was still on call since he didn’t know how it was going to be while they were there.

It was a simple follow up after she was hit. It seemed easy enough. But he could understand her reaction. He adds it to the list of reasons he’s going wring Jos’ neck the next time he sees him.

They pulled into the parking lot and immediately her breath becomes uneven. “Please don’t leave me.” She pleads with him.

It hurts. His heart hurts for her. “I would never.”

They take it slowly. A nice leisurely stroll to the entrance. Charles is so focused on her that he doesn’t notice the familiar figure just outside the door.

Charles nearly chokes on his spit. Halting in his spot and confusing the girl on his arm. “Charles? Are you okay.”

It’s funny to him how she’s the one on the verge of a breakdown and yet she’s asking if he’s okay.

“Mon Amour, would your dad know your here by any chance?”

She thinks for a moment. “He used to get all the appointment reminders for me since he was usually driving. Maybe he got something like that? Why do you ask?”

He thought about not telling her. But he knew this was unavoidable. “Jos is standing in our path.” He stays calm for her. He can already feel her shaking.

He gets them back to the car and dials Max’s number. Begging that he picks up the phone.

“Please tell me everything is going okay.” Max knows though; he knows something is wrong.

“Jos is here.”

Max lets out an angry string of Dutch words. “I’ll be there in a few. See if they have a back door.”

They do. Charles takes the long way around to it and meets a nurse outside. “I’m so sorry about this.” He quickly apologizes.

Max spots them and jogs over. “Is there any chance we can stay out of the waiting room.” He asks the nurse.

She smiles sympathetically, Charles had explained everything to her but there was no other option.

So the three headed inside. Max finds the farthest spot away from the window and sits down followed by his sister and Charles. All of them waiting with their breaths held.

Her name is called a few minutes later. The same nurse from earlier coming to help her to the room.

She looks frantically at Charles and Max. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, mon amour.” Charles reassures. Then she walks away.

“I feel like an idiot.” Max sighs. His leg bouncing in anxiety.

“Why’s that.”

“I thought I changed everything over.”

“Don’t feel bad, it was an honest mistake and now we know and can fix it.” Charles tries to comfort the Dutch.

Somehow, they managed to sneak out the back way again. Effectively avoiding Jos. This time, I thought Charles dosent hesitate to drive by him. When the Dutch makes eye contact with him, Charles shoots him a smug look and a middle finger.

His laugh dosen't go unnoticed.

"I know I can't see much, but I saw the look on his face. It was the most hysterical look he's ever had." She can't stop laughing for majority of the way home.

"I'm glad you find it amusing. Seeing you smile about it is just so beautiful."

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aglaias-blog · 5 months

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"Kindred Spirits" Chapt. 1

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Author's note: This is going to be a series, with a bit of Aemond's POV in the next chapter :) Feedback is always welcome and appreciated! <3

TW: afab!reader, soulmate AU, Aemond not letting his walls down/being an arrogant dick, religious guilt/imagery and corruption kink in later chapters, no smut in this chapter (there will be some in later chapters though ;)), being kinda tricked into a betrothal?

Summary: Being a highborn lady, a love match is out of the question for you, much less a match with your soulmate. You're not even told about the intricacies of what meeting your soulmate entails. When you are tricked into a betrothal to Aemond Targaryen by your parents, you don't know how to handle things. The Prince's cold demeanor is off-putting, but he is also the only one who is willing to help you, the only one you can depend on. Just how is all this going to play out?

"Kindred Spirits" Masterlist

The journey to the Red Keep had been sold to you as a diplomatic trip that your father had to make, and you knew that there was something suspect about it as soon as he invited you to come along. „I know how much you love travelling“, he said, „The Red Keep is a masterpiece of architecture“, he said! Thinking back, it took everything you had in you to not laugh out loud as you hastily made your way through the labyrinth of corridors that was the Red Keep. Enraged, that you fell for this scheme so easily.

Obviously you should have been more skeptical, when your father tried to lure you on this journey with all kinds of promises. But then again, you couldn’t have avoided this forever. „This“ meaning marriage. Marriage to a certain prince whom you absolutely did not want to see at the moment.

It was clear from the moment you were born that your marriage would be arranged to some house or another – for diplomatic reasons of course. Loyal allies were hard to come by, apparently. You never expected though that your parents would think it necessary to come up with some kind of ruse in order to marry you off.Granted, you had always been the stubborn one in your group of siblings, however you also had a sense of duty that was instilled in you since you were in diapers.

It was always obvious to you that one day you would have to marry a man you had never seen before in your life, in order to strengthen the ties between his house and yours – or rather your father’s. The soulmate bond was completely ignored in your circles. A marriage that wouldn’t benefit your house was unthinkable, and absolutely no thought was wasted on marrying someone who wasn’t highborn. So, you came to terms with the fact that you would never find your soulmate – marriage to someone else than your soulmate wasn’t something pleasant to think about, but it was presented to you as inevitable. Your parents weren’t soulmates, and still loved each other, which in itself was already rare among nobility. You didn’t even know what would happen if you met your soulmate – your Septa never taught you anything about it, as not to give you any improper ideas. Though you would have liked a bit of an early warning about when you would be married.

Your delegation had arrived in the afternoon, and while you had thought that you would be deathly tired, you were absolutely buzzing now. Trying to get a good look at the Red Keep and King’s Landing, you stuck your head through the window of your palanquin. You were struck by the different smells, the people wearing fabrics and clothes you had never seen before, the merchants speaking in a dialect you didn’t recognize, even the light was different here - you couldn’t soak it all in at once, and when you had arrived at the Red Keep, your head was buzzing from all the sensory overload.

As soon as you had settled in your rooms, your father had come to get you introduced to the Queen, as the King was "otherwise occupied", and your presentation to him would be done later.

What you thought was your introduction to the Queen, became much more alarming when you realized that one of the Princes was there, and Queen Alicent’s smile was much too joyful for a simple presentation of a lord’s daughter. After a quick welcome to your father, and a quick introduction to her son who turned out to be Prince Aemond, the second-born son, she immediately turned to you. Her warm words in regard to your arrival were unusual, she was speaking to you as if she already knew you well, like a good friend. And when you were moving into a deep curtsey, she quickly stepped forward, taking your hands in hers to stop you. You shot your father a confused glance when she cupped your cheeks, the excitement in her eyes only adding to your bewilderment. She seemed to notice that you had not reciprocated the delight on her face, and hesitantly took a step back, awkwardly clearing her throat.

Looking for an explanation you turned to your father. Someone would have to say the things out loud that were hanging heavily in the tension of the room. You almost didn’t quite catch what your father was murmuring under his breath, but when the most important part of it sunk in, you only heard the rest as if through cotton wads.

„You are to marry Prince Aemond“

Confused, your gaze fell on the Prince, now taking a closer look at him, and he returned it with a look of defiance on his face, his arms crossed. He was the picture of aloofness and arrogance, if only he wasn’t picking at his thumb with his fingers beneath his elbow. You didn’t notice it though, too occupied with handling the news at hand.

Everything fell into place then and there. The „maybe you’ll meet someone special“, said with a playful wink, but you thought nothing of it; your Septa focusing on „wifely duties and virtues“ during your lessons before your departure, and you hadn’t noticed the sudden change in your curriculum; the joyful glint in your mother's eyes as she was picking out the dresses for your journey herself, while you were too busy daydreaming about the trip to a foreign part of Westeros.

„W-what?“, you asked tentatively, refusing to understand, hoping that you were wrong. Pleadingly, you turned to your father again, „Why didn’t you - “ But he interrupted you quickly, hoping to make an end to this scene as soon as possible.

Turning his back to the Queen and Prince he tried to shush you.

„This is most improper“, he murmured, hoping the Queen and the Prince wouldn’t be able to hear what he was saying. He shot them a quick smile over his shoulder before continuing his effort in a hushed voice, „you knew you would have to marry one day, this betrothal is a done deal - you’ll be happy here.“

Suddenly, your dress felt like your maid had laced you up too tightly. It was positively stifling in here! You tried to focus on your breathing, the panic visible in your eyes. Nevertheless, you were aware of your surroundings and the inquisitive gazes of the Queen and Prince on your back.

„Right!“, you said, turning around sharply with a reassuring smile on your face. It wouldn’t do you any good to continue this awkward display of miscommunication in front of royal company. You would have enough time to think of a solution to this situation as soon as you got out of here and in the solitude of your chambers.

„It is an honour to be welcomed by you so warmly, Your Grace“, you said, curtseying deeply. Worried that your mask of calmness might slip, you bowed your head low.

„I’m overjoyed to make your acquaintance“, you continued, hoping that she wouldn’t be offended by your previous display of lacking knowledge of your betrothal.

You quietly thanked the Seven when she took a step towards you, again taking your hands in hers. „As am I“, she said, smiling warmly. You couldn’t quite tell if it was an honest smile, or just pure politeness to put both you and your father at ease.

„Lord Barryn, I take it the crossing wasn’t as calm as I had hoped?“, she turned to your father, giving him a conspiratorial look. „You must tell me more about your journey here while I show you the gardens, the blood-blooms are so beautiful this time of year!“, she beamed, while gesturing to the door.

How discreet, you thought to yourself saracastically. Your father heartily agreed with the Queen, and you only noticed that you had been staring at the floor during the whole of their conversation, when the door fell shut behind him. Your first thought was that it might be improper to leave a young man and woman unchaperoned in a chamber like this, but then you remembered that you were already betrothed. You could only chuckle humourlessly at the thought.

„I take it you knew, my Lord?“, you said into the air, jutting out your chin. Attack was the best defence, after all. The Prince hadn’t moved at all during everything that had unfolded, still standing stiff as a board with his arms crossed.

„I did“, he said coolly. Marvelous, you thought, he seemed to be a great conversationalist.

The prolongated pause in your conversation, if you could even call it that, made him move his hands behind his back awkwardly; if you refused to say anymore then he had to, this was turning embarassing rather quickly.

„I was told about your family background, the house Barryn, your faith, your personal interests, your talents -“

„Pray tell, what don’t you know about me?“, you interrupted him suddenly, throwing manners to the wind. Overcome by the embarrassment that he knew everything there was to know about you, while you – well, you didn’t know anymore about him than what was presented to you right now. He was handsome, you had to admit. His eyepatch intrigued you, you wouldn’t ask him about it now, though. But there was some kind of cruel beauty about him, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, he seemed… cold in a way.

His silence was response enough to your question. The truth was that he was even shown portraits of you. Being told so much about you, he felt like he knew you, although he had never seen you in person before. He almost felt something akin to compassion when he saw your discomfort about this mess, so he kept quiet as to not embarrass you further.

„Right,“ piqued, you smoothed over your skirts, „I believe this matter to be settled then. Please excuse me, my Lord, I’m excruciatingly tired from the journey.“ He didn’t seem to have expected you to leave so soon, a look of surprise on his usually arrogant face.

You forced a smile unto your face before curtseying slightly and striding towards the door and opening it. From the side you saw him reach out to you, and your thin string of patience snapped.

„Don’t! Touch me“, you hissed, shooting the Prince a sharp glance over your shoulder, before quickly stepping out the door. You wondered where he got the impertinence from to think that he could touch you, you barely knew each other! He stopped in his tracks, stubbornly calling out your name.

Swiftly, you turned around, trying to speak calmly, as not to reveal your panicked state. „You may not call me by my given name, my Lord. I’m still Lady Barryn to you!“

Then, inelegantly grabbing your skirts, you made your way to your chamber, leaving Prince Aemond standing in the door.

You were pacing in your lavishly decorated room, the thoughts in your head running berserk. You wondered whether every room in the Keep looked like this or if they made a special effort for the bride of the Prince. The bride. You were a bride! The thought made you slump down to the ground. Why did your parents think that they had to keep their plans from you? You had been stubborn sometimes, yes, but never that much that it should make them think to hide your own betrothal from you!

You would have thought that they would prepare you more properly – beginning with telling you about your future husband, like Prince Aemond was told about you.

Prince Aemond - why would he speak to you using your first name? You thought that he would have had a good education, manners included. Why would he think that a mere introduction would be enough to touch you, to leave away all titles when speaking to you?

And if he knew about the betrothal, who else knew? Did his siblings know? Did the court know? The servants most certainly treated you like they knew. If they did, you would have to play along with everything, making it seem like you also knew about the betrothal beforehand. If you didn’t, you would make yourself vulnerable to gossip, or worse, other schemes and intrigues. You knew enough about people at court to realize that most of them were shrewd and would take advantage of you if you let them. You would only be another pawn to them - it was like that at home, and you were sure that it would be no different here. Just another sheep surrounded by wolves.

A look outside the window told you that you only had a few hours left, before you would be called to supper with the family. You hadn't even taken the time to admire the view from the large window, too occupied with your own thoughts. Your maid had told you that it would be an important event, celebrating your arrival. Of course at the time you had wondered why they would make such a big deal of it, well, now you knew. Slowly, you mustered up the energy to drag yourself to the bed and threw yourself on it. A myriad of thoughts was racing in your head – you couldn’t concentrate on one, much less find a solution to all this.

Prayer had always guided and helped you, but you had never been in a situation as serious and hopeless as this. Still, you prayed - rambling to the Mother about all your worries, telling the Maiden about your future marriage, hoping to at least get along with your husband, asking the Crone for guidance in this chaos where you couldn’t see what was coming, and most importantly imploring the Warrior to give you courage and strength, as you were truly preparing for battle.

You weren’t against a marriage as such – you trusted in the Mother, and your parents to find you a good match, even if an alliance was the top priority. And an alliance with the House Targaryen would be a great succes, indeed. You felt most uneasy about the fact that everyone was so informal with you, treating you like a family friend, althought they had never met you before. You were thrust into an environment where you knew nobody, yet everybody seemed to know you – most of all your betrothed.

The servants found you asleep in your room, a copy of The Seven-Pointed Star by your side. You had been so lost in contemplation, but at the same time so fatigued from the events of the day that you had drifted off into a restless, fidgety sleep. Startled, you awoke when you heard the servants bustling in your room to light the candles and stoke the fire. You hadn’t even noticed how dark it had become outside. Then your maid came in with your dress for the dinner and put it on the bed. Right. Dinner with the whole family, and the King, and the Prince, and some members of court – your first introduction as the bride of the second-born prince. The pressure to make a good impression was immense.

When you saw the dress that your maid carried, you thought back to your mother. She had picked the dress herself, specially for this occasion – and hadn’t bothered to tell you why. While you felt a pang of resentment at the thought of her, you also knew that this situation couldn’t be helped, you had to marry sooner or later, you just wished they had told you about it earlier. Well, at least your mother had good taste. You hoped that the long sleeves would protect you a little against the humid cold that seemed to always creep into the walls of the Keep and, of course, choosing the Targaryen colours was a clever move. The rich blood red colour of the dress stood out in stark contrast against the white bed linen. You knew that the dress fit you perfectly, of course, your mother had made sure of it personally.

The change of dress and hairdressing was an automatic process for you. You only noticed that it was over, when you saw your maid smiling reassuringly at you in the mirror that you sat in front of.

„Thank you, Alanna“, you said, returning her smile as you didn’t want to worry her. You quickly got up from the chair, and smoothed out your dress nervously before taking a few steps to the door. Taking a deep breath, you paused, trying to gather all the courage you had, and then determinedly turned the door knob.

The leather-clad chest you met with was not what you expected when you resolutely stepped over the threshold.

„Ow! What in the Seven- ?“, you started, pressing your hand to your face where a metal clasp had scratched your cheek, feeling two warm hands holding you by your shoulders to steady you.

„My apologies, Lady Barryn!“, came the immediate answer from Prince Aemond. He almost sounded worried.

Had he been waiting in front of your chamber?

Instinctively, he bent forward, trying to inspect your cheek, but you quickly turned your head to the side. Realizing what he was doing, he lowered his gaze; yet the heat of embarrassment rising to his face went unnoticed by you.

Awkwardly wriggling out of his grasp, you asked the first question that was on your mind.

„My Lord, what are you doing here?“ You sounded more rude than you intended. Prince Aemond’s puzzled look only added to your discomfort, as if to ask if you really thought that he couldn’t go anywhere he liked in his home. Though, he caught himself quickly.

„I was waiting for you, dinner is to begin soon“, he said matter-of-factly, the aloof expression back on his face. You looked at him questioningly, this wasn’t explanation enough.

„I thought it to be a good idea to go in together…“, he tried to make you understand. „Seeing as we are – well, this is the first time we will be seen together.“

Oh right, making a good first impression. You were almost grateful to him that he gave you this opportunity. Presenting a united front would provide less target surface to the rest of court. Surely, entering the hall together would be better, than hesitantly going in all by yourself. This still didn’t mean that it changed how you felt towards him, though. You were still peeved that he acted like he knew you, he didn’t know anything about you, and, even worse, you knew nothing about him!

„Alright, we shall go then“, you agreed and turned to the left, keeping your chin up high, leaving Prince Aemond standing behind you.

„Lady Barryn“, he called out lazily, „the hall is in the other direction!“ He wished he didn’t have to add to your mortification, he truly did, everything he had done today only seemed to further your discomfort. But he couldn’t help the smirk that snuck its way onto his face, when he saw you turn around, face red with embarrassment, and scurry past him, a flurry of skirts.

You slowed your steps when the doors of the dining hall came into view. Prince Aemond caught up to you quickly, looking like the picture of relaxation and self-confidence. You came to a halt a few paces in front of the imposing doors.

„You might want to take my hand“, he proposed bluntly, looking straight ahead.

„I shall do no such thing“, came your immediate defiant response.

„Look“, he said sharply, turning towards you. Shooting a quick appraising glance to the guards at the doors, he lowered his voice, so only you could hear. „I know that you are not simple-minded, I saw how quickly you caught yourself in front of my mother, and I know that you know that this first impression is crucial.“ He was so close to you now. In an effort to let only you hear his words, he had bent forward, to match your height. Tentatively, you looked up at him, daring to actually take a closer look at his face now. Your gaze shifted from his eye, down over his straight nose, and getting stuck on his mouth, that was speaking words that you weren’t hearing anymore.

„...and you might also like to call me by my given name, as will I, this will give an impression of us being much closer than we actually are“, he finished nonchalantly, awaiting your response. Apparently, he had invested much thought into his strategy of appearing united. Or at least not hostile towards each other.

His usual smirk came back on his face, when he noticed your spell-bound expression and lack of reaction to his words.

„Of course“, you were quick to murmur, trying to shake the dizziness that had taken you over momentarily.

„Alright then“, he turned to the closed doors determinedly, offering you his hand.

„Absolutely not“, you said, taking his arm instead, putting your hand around it gently. You swore you could see him roll his eye from the corner of your eye.

The dinner had gone as smoothly as you had hoped. As daunting as it was, you felt like you had navigated the situation quite well. Now in bed, you let everything pass through your head again. The presentation to the King had gone well, although in his weakened state, they had only told him the necessary news. He had seemed happy enough for the two of you. Aemond’s siblings – hah, Aemond, you were amazed how quickly you got used to saying only his name, leaving away his title. Well, Aemond’s siblings knew that this wasn’t a love match, however you didn’t think that they saw under the cover their brother and you had come up with. You especially liked his sister Helaena, she seemed very sweet, and you thought that you two might make good friends, over time.

The King’s Hand was there, as well as other people from court. You had tried to make enough polite conversation to not seem suspicious, but not too much as to not let them too close to you, close enough to see that Aemond and you were pretending.

Queen Alicent and your father had seemed honestly pleased seeing you and Aemond „get along“. All in all, you thought that you had put on a good display of affability.

Still, you felt unease at the thought that you couldn’t get through to Aemond. He seemed pleasant enough, but you felt a subliminal trace of menace about him. But surely, you were imagining things. He seemed intent on making the both of you invincible to the sharp-tongued plotting courtiers.

He was the only one who had been willing to help you today.

Relieved, that at least today was dealt with, you nestled into the plush pillows, falling into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Two

#aggiewrites #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond #soulmate au #aemond one eye #hotd aemond

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cod-imagines-fanfiction · 7 months

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Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 5 (2k words)

Summary: Alejandro and Valeria face off.

TW: Violence Link to A03 Link to part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

“Liar!” Valeria screamed as she lunged at Alejandro with her blade. The hilt shone where the light caught it and Valeria glowed with the silver lustre of the weapon beneath her. In battle, she glistened like an unforgiving, merciless god. She aimed for his neck, she would make him bleed and regret ever looking at her wife in the base way that he regarded her. It never occurred to her that he would ever place his hands on her, and the mere thought sent Valeria into a frenzy. Her wife, defiled by the likes of Alejandro; a man touching her wife, her goddess. The woman who was so beautiful that Valeria could kiss the earth she walked on. It was unthinkable – it was untrue! Y/N would never submit herself to that, she did not have those sorts of feelings. Not only feelings of disloyalty, but feelings towards men. Instinctively, Alejandro reached for his handgun. The two entered a deadly brawl.

They were locked in the dance of death. Their bodies followed the music of violence and brutality; their limbs stretched out and followed the inevitable rhythm of cuts and bruises, of sprained limbs and blood-soaked mouths; of strength and weakness; of the killer and of the killed. The base, animal instinct of murder prevailed over reason and argument. In her heart, Valeria knew that she and Alejandro had never talked properly, and they never would. It was not possible to speak of certain things. The betrayal, the pain; it hung over their struggling bodies, unspoken but felt. It hummed between their yells and grunts; it leapt out every time one looked at the other. Beyond what had happened with Y/N was what happened before. Valeria knew that she had instilled a pain so deep within him that it would never heal, that this pain would be part of him forever. An ugly pain that contorted him from the inside, a pain that Valeria prayed she would never experience. But it was all worth it. Were she given the chance to go back in time, she would do everything exactly like she did; she would pay any price if meant getting to spend her life with Y/N. There was no limit to what Valeria would do. She would break the hearts of everyone that was ever born, she would cut her soul in half -anything for her wife.

“How does it feel, huh?” Alejandro spat out between hurried breaths, matching her attacks with his. “Can you imagine it happening – can you see me doing it?”

“Callate!” Valeria saw her chance and sliced a long gash on his face. With an angry yell, he kicked her and the two fell apart. Valeria crouched with a hand on her abdomen and willed herself not to vomit. What Alejandro spoke of was incomprehensible to her. She could not conjure the image in her mind. It was as hateful as trying to imagine Y/N dying; it was unthinkable and too painful.

“You don’t think your woman could ever love a man?” He held a hand on the bleeding slash on his face, the blood staining his glove. “You really think that, given an alternative, she would stay with you forever?”

Valeria knew that he was only provoking her like he always did. It was one of the things he hated most about him, how he prioritised his amusement over her pain. How he would rile her up just to see her get angry. She hated how stereotypical he made her feel, a caricature of a Latin American woman - always angry, always nagging; feisty! She hated it when he would say how beautiful she looked when angry. Like when someone scares a peacock just to see it spread its beautiful blue and green feathers; a show for the entertainment of others. From the outside, it looked like lover's jest, but she always felt the contempt that lingered beneath his words, the secret enjoyment of her emotional torment. It was his way of dominating her, by controlling her emotions, triggering them for his pleasure. It was something that made her fall hard for Y/N, how, when Valeria showed her frustration, Y/N went above and beyond to soothe her. A shoulder massage, sweet words, sometimes food - she had an array of ways of pleasing Valeria and shooing away the clouds that hovered above her. It was the first time that Valeria felt someone affirm her feelings, and she realised that not all lovers wanted to see her suffer. That there was another life to be had, a soft life. A life where she was not tormented at home, where her spouse didn't make her feel insecure or unwelcome. A life of undeniable, steady love.

She felt the same thing happen now, this dangerous game with her inner fire. His provocation, how he dared her to do something about what he said. The difference was that now, she really did mean to kill him.

“She’s a lesbian, pendejo. It is not possible for her." Valeria looked around the container and felt a hysterical, manic laughter bubble to the surface.

"She's not like you and me. She only swings one way, my way."

Alejandro dropped his hand, the wound still bleeding but he did not bother to soothe it. The blood continued to flow freely, the droplets trailing down his face and threatening to leak onto the floor. There was something in his dark eyes that was at once terribly vulnerable and terribly hard. He tried to hide it, but Valeria had already seen it. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Valeria's face tightened with a terrible grin. "You heard me. You're just like me, Alejandro." She cocked her head to the side. "Exactly like me," she uttered slowly, emphasising every single word, letting them trail off her tongue.

Her words fell and landed with a thunderous blow. They were quiet words with heavy meaning. She felt him glow with shame, which he would express as anger. Men like him always did. Machismo men like Alejandro allowed no room in their lives for something which shamed and frightened them. They did this by not looking at the world too closely, as they did with their reflection in the mirror. They only allowed themselves the quickest of glances before they were in motion again. Their lives were a blur of movement, busy lives that, from the outside, were driven by a purpose bigger than themselves. But really, they busied themselves because they wouldn't allow what they were running from to catch up to them. This threat of shame would haunt them forever. It was not possible to run forever and so there were rare moments where they caught a glimpse of that terrible, nameless thing. Moments at the bar where something frightening glimmered within the eye of another man - was it suspicion, or was it recognition? He would tear his gaze away and look down at his glass, he would reach the bottom. He would forget what happened with each gulp, until the next time.

"You don't hate me because I left you. You hate me because I am what you won't allow yourself to be. Unashamed."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said with a dangerously low voice, his words sounding like a growl. "You're being crazy like you always were. A crazy, hysterical bitch-"

"You know there's even a word for it these days!" She said with enthusiasm, enjoying how the tables had turned. Enjoying that at long last, they would finally talk. "They call us bise-"

He lunged at her with the ferocity of a cornered animal, his blood-stained hands immediately grasping for her neck. Forcing her silence, forcing her to never speak that word in front of him. It was a silence that Valeria vowed to never hold again. She fended him with her knife, slashing at his wrists. She would buy herself enough time to finally say her peace. To finally get to the bottom of this sick, perverse jealousy that threatened to ruin them both.

"I always saw how you looked at him!" She yelled in between his attacks and her defence. "I saw how you shivered at his touch when you thought no one was looking! I know what is in your heart because it is exactly what is in mine. You hate me because you hate yourself. You think killing me will make that part of you go away, but it never will. I don't care how much you hate yourself, but it is NOT my problem. And it is certainly not my wife's problem!" Her words were drowned by his hands at her throat. Hands that were leaking blood like a river, shaky hands that would make her go quiet if it was the last thing they ever did.

" I am not like you!" He choked out the words. "I am a man."

His grip eased slightly, giving her only enough time to say one thing: "Rudolfo is a man too, but you still love him."

For the first time in her life, she felt that she would really die this time. She had cheated death many times before, but there was no more running from it this time. She would be one more body to the pile that shamed, repressed men created during their lifetime. A pile of murdered ex-lovers lest the world find out they had been loved, and of people who knew the truth and threatened to reveal it. Alejandro, wounded and bleeding out, was content to spend the last scrap of his energy choking her. His heart was beating so fast, he could hardly hear anything above the ringing in his ears. That deafening ringing noise and the feeling of Valeria's body underneath him were the only things he could feel.

And so he didn't hear the sound of creaking metal as the door was opened. He didn't hear someone yell at him to get off her. She was an important informant, after all. This whole mess was so that the Army could finally gain some intel on Hassan and the missiles, and here was the Colonel murdering their best chance at tracking those weapons. But Alejandro heard nothing, not the first pleas and the subsequent commands. He did not hear Rudolfo or Soap yelling. Nor did he hear heavy footsteps approaching and Commander Grave's rifle as it was raised above his head and brought down with more force than was needed. Alejandro's body flayed to the side, yet he held on.

"Damn it, you son of a bitch, I said get off!" Commander Grave's voice thundered within the container as he dragged Alejandro off of Valeria.

Rudolfo was at Alejandro's side at once, already beginning to patch up his wounds. As Valeria was being revived by someone else, Alejandro felt her cold, sardonic gaze on him. He could feel the satisfaction radiating off her, her 'I told you so.' Instinctively, he rejected Rudolfo's first aid. "Quítate," he mumbled and shrugged off any attempts at patching up his slit wrists, or his damaged face. Rudolfo's flinched away from Alejandro and turned to Valeria.

"Valeria Garza, you are now in the custody of the Mexican Army," said Rudolfo as he pulled out a set of handcuffs from his back pocket. "You're going to prison for what you did." He helped her get up and placed the cuffs on her as she gained her footing.

She was expressionless, shaky from her proximity to death. She could only utter one thing. "My wife."

Rudolfo nodded solemnly. "She is in custody waiting for you."

"If she's hurt-"

"She isn't," he said and looked to the side where Alejandro was tending to his own wounds. "I made sure of that." A ghostly smile hovered over her features as Valeria was escorted outside.

Note: I hope you've enjoyed this part! I'm very aware that Valeria and Y/N have spent very little time together in this fic and I promise to bring them together very soon!

pookie bear tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty valeria #cod imagine #valeria garza #cod valeria #valeria garza x reader #valeria x female reader #valeria x reader

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 7 months

Text

take 2

nico hischier x actress!f!reader

fc: sophie turner

warnings: swearing

liked by treaclychild, landonorris and 840,971 others

ynofficial: i heart nj

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claudiasulewski: first

maya_henry: mother is mothering

user1: WHO IS COWBOY

ynofficial: you mean you haven't heard 'cowboy like me'?

user2: what of nico?????

user3: DID HE SLIDE INTO UR DMS

taylorswift: i heart u

liked by ynofficial

user4: POV you came from deuxmoi's blind item 👀

user5: oui

ayoedebiri: ur pretty

jackhughes: yo

user6: no

user7: this is the wrong nj player commenting, i forbit it

user8: jack baby snap out of it

user9: only y/n could get the captain to wink at her and the social media heartthrob to comment on her ig

user10: ✨✨✨ BEST BELIEVE I'M STILL BEJEWELED ✨✨✨

liked by ynoffocial

liked by user11 and 78,186 others

deuxmoi: there were a few blind items submitted relating to the same A lister and athlete, and others also hinted at said sports star's respected status in the city, and his private nature, thus the lack of photos from the night

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user11: LOVING HIM WAS REDDDDD

user12: no bc i ship it so hard

user13: there's absolutely zero way that they're not talking about y/n and nico 😭

user14: in y/n's recent post she was wearing a sparkly star dress too

user15: me bc nico won't be protected from all the y/n girlies anymore: 😢😢

user16: THEY MOVE FAST IF THIS IS TRUE

user17: okay but my thinking is that they knew each other prior to the hockey game???

user18: RIGHT???

user19: THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT THE WAY HE KNEW WHERE SHE WAS SITTING THERE'S NO WAY A HOCKEY PLAYER CAN PINPOINT SOMEONE'S SEAT THAT QUICK UNLESS THEY ALREADY KNEW WHERE THEY WERE SITTING

nicohischier posted to their story...

liked by 138,017 others

hockeygossip: LATE ARRIVAL FOR Y/N L/N TO NASHVILLE HOCKEY AWARDS 2023. PICTURED WITH DEVILS HOCKEY CAPTAIN NICO HISCHIER MOMENTS AFTER HER LATE ARRIVAL.

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liked by nicohischier, joejonas and 1,004,013 others

ynofficial: because the first launch failed ☺️

📸: nicohischier ❤️

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user21: IT'S HAPPENING IT'S HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CALM

user22: [tyres screech] [distant crash] [sirens] [crying] [heartbeat monitor]

user23: AHHHAH AHHAA HAHA *faints*

user24: he's taking a photo of her 😭

user25: the way she's looking at him and his concentration 😭

user26: your honour they're in love

user27: YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THE GAME THING WAS THE INITIAL HARD LAUNCH BUT WE ALL MISINTERPRETED IT???

ynofficial: ...yes

user28: WE'RE DUMB WE APOLOGISE

jackhughes: this is cute

nicohischier: can i get your number?

ynofficial: sure, it's #13

nicohischier: 😲😲

user29: you know it's SERIOUS bc she's never been ig official before

user30: fr she didn't even post callum mf turner, if i was her i'd have been yelling from the rooftops

user31: SHE SAID ALL THAT ABOUT HIM IN AN INTERVIEW OH MY GOD I'M DYING

user33: 'he's patient, kind, intelligent, calm, and just a really beautiful soul' I BELIEVED IN YOU NICO ALL THIS TIME

user34: nico fans are really winning here

user35: SHE MADE IT FOR THE END OF THE AWARDS

user36: but that pap photo from instagram? the way they were looking at each other has me in my own puddle of tears in a nest of already used tissues bc they're adorable

user37: that photo single-handedly instilled in me the belief that love does exist

user38: they're my 'don't take risks on dangerous roads' couple now

liked by ynofficial, jesperbratt and 519,195 others

nicohischier: it's come to my attention that there's been a lot of talk about my relationship lately, and i just wanted to come on here and confirm that i am batshit crazy for this woman, and pathetically in love with her. so, yes, the rumours are true 😊

ps i have the dad seal of approval

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jackhughes: first

john.marino97: whipped

nicohischier: yep 💪

jackhughes: why are you ignoring me

nicohischier: because you haven't said anything worth commenting on

ynofficial: i'm a sports watcher for you

nicohischier: appreciate it, thanks

ynofficial: you're welcome

user39: i think i love this awkward conversing

user40: it's my aspiration in life to have that

lhughes_06: happy for you, cap 😁

jackhughes: *cough* suck up *cough*

tmeier96: ABOUT DAMN TIME 👏👏

ynofficial: you can rip that NDA up now

tmeier96: i might frame it for sentimental purposes

ynofficial: really?

nicohischier: that's suspicious

siegenthaler34: in my defence i did try my best with the jumbotron incident

nicohischier: and we're very thankful for that

ynofficial: if anything it helped thicken the plot 😂

siegenthaler34: it was pretty funny

user41: THE y/n l/n being the captain's wag wasn't on my bingo card for this year

nicohischier: you and me both

ynofficial: please, i was a goner from the very SECOND you smiled

nicohischier: the very second? 😏

ynofficial: stfu and bring the coffee

nicohischier: as you wish

+ BONUS: Spittin Chiclets Podcast

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier oneshot #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier social media au #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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separatist-apologist · 2 months

Text

The Sweetest Con

Summary: Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before.

She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

Read on AO3

Five years earlier:

She wasn’t used to Georgia’s humidity.

Nesta never wanted to get used to it. Standing just outside the little white house that now belonged to her, Nesta wiped sweat from the back of her neck. The town was small—no more than a couple thousand people, if that. No big buildings, no major downtown, and worst of all, no Chinese food. Not unless she wanted to creep closer to Atlanta and given that Nesta’s car was a piece of rusting junk built a full decade before she was born, she doubted she’d make it.

So much for being a hot shot lawyer.

Nesta dumped her bag just inside the white picket fence, ignoring the peeling paint and splintering wood. It was the kind of place Elain would have thrived in. With a sigh, Nesta turned her back entirely on the overgrown yard and began walking along the only road in the town to the center—aptly named Main Street.

There was practically no one out. A few older woman walked with looped arms down the sidewalks while a harried mother pushing a stroller made her way toward the only grocery store. Nesta made her way toward the marble carved library, taking the steps one at a time despite the unrelenting sun overhead.

The air inside was ice cold and empty save of two women who were quietly talking to each other. One of them—the red head—clearly worked there given she was behind the desk. The other sat perched on the counter, a book in her lap. They had been clearly talking with some animation though now that Nesta had intruded, the pair stared with wary suspicion.

Nesta hadn’t come to make friends. Lifting her chin with all the haughtiness her mother had instilled in her, Nesta marched toward the shelves lined with fantasy and romance and began reading the jackets.

She needed a distraction. All she could think about lately was what would happen if Rhysand ever found them. Surely he was irate…he’d be out for blood. They’d flat out lied, pointing the finger straight at the notorious mafioso and the feds, in their eagerness to put him away, had overlooked all the evidence suggesting otherwise.

But Rhysand would know.

And Nesta wanted to forget him. Mobsters lived short lives, besides—in a year, he might be dead and the whole thing over. She could keep herself busy for that long. So long as the library kept books on the shelves, Nesta could find something to do.

She brought them to the front desk where the red head and the dark haired woman waited. “Library card?” The woman’s name tag read Gwyn.

“No,” Nesta said, fishing out her new drivers license. Agnes Smith. Sure. That sounded real. “Here.”

Gwyn eyed it for a moment. “You don’t look like an Agnes.”

“Tell that to my mom.”

Gwyn began typing on her computer, glancing at Nesta’s ID. “Emerie,” the dark skinned, dark haired woman said with a friendlier smile. “I think you look like an Agnes.” Gwyn rolled her eyes.

“You should come by the general store,” Emerie added, glancing at the ID for Nesta’s address. “You moved into the old Brandon house.”

“Grizzly murder happened there,” Gwyn said seriously.

“Did not. He died of all old age,” Emerie said quickly. “It’s been run down for a while. I’d be happy to help you out.”

“Do you like women?” Gwyn asked suddenly and bluntly.

Taken aback, Nesta said, “Um…not really—romantically, anyway.”

Emerie sighed. “It was worth a shot.”

Nesta almost blurted out that she’d still take friends before she thought better of it. No need to be defensive or obsessive. “Where is everyone today?”

“It’s ten am,” Gwyn said.

“They’re at church,” Emerie replied when it was clear Nesta didn’t understand.

“But not you?” Nesta questioned.

Gwyn handed her ID back, along with a white library card bearing her pretend name. “We aren’t welcome.”

“Why?”

Emerie grimaced while Gwyn scanned Nesta’s book. “They think I’m a homewrecker…and Emerie likes women. Openly.”

“Fuck them,” Nesta said without thinking. It was the first smile she’d seen from Gwyn—a small, half formed thing, but a smile all the same. “We should start our own religion.”

“That sounds like blasphemy,” Emerie teased.

“It sounds like witchcraft,” Gwyn added, pushing Nesta’s stack of books toward her. “I’m in.”

Which was how Nesta found herself hosting brunch that Sunday with two strangers in a house that didn’t belong to her.

PRESENT:

“Who is that?” Emerie asked, sitting on Nesta’s front porch holding a sweating glass of iced tea.

“He’s not local at all,” Gwyn agreed, lowering her sunglasses to take a look at the tall, muscular man making his way toward Nesta’s gate. Wearing mirrored shades and a suit that was bursting at the seams, he looked like he was playing dress up as a cop.

His dark, wavy hair half pulled in a bun didn’t seem regulation, for one. But something about him seemed off somehow.

“He one of yours?” Gwyn questioned. Nesta had long since betrayed the secrecy she’d been sworn to, telling her friends everything but the most critical piece of truth in order to protect Feyre.

Nesta scratched her ear. No, this man was definitely not one of hers.

“Want us to stay?” Gwyn asked, likely thinking about the shotgun mounted in the back of her pick-up truck.

“I can handle him,” Nesta assured them. Gwyn and Emerie stood, leaving behind their cups to slip from the yard. Gwyn nodded at the man once, lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. That left Nesta standing at the top of her porch steps wearing a butter yellow sundress, arms crossed over her chest.

“Ma’am,” he the man began as he approached, his expression unreadable. She waited, watching as he took off his sunglasses only for recognition to slam into her. Oh. She knew this man from pictures. “My name is Cassian.”

Rhysands right hand man. Nesta didn’t move, unwilling to betray she knew who he was. “What can I do for you, Cassian?”

Not even a fake name? Was he that confident she’d never done one google search? He had a mugshot, had appeared in the papers just enough times for Nesta to recognize him. They called him The Lord of Bloodshed thanks to his rumored job of handling the things Rhysand didn’t want staining his hands or his conscience.

And that man was standing at the bottom of her steps, armed just beneath his suit jacket.

“I’m here on behalf of your case,” he said like a pretty liar.

“Oh? Has something happened?”

“An indictment is coming. I’m to escort you back home once Rhysand has been charged.”

Liar.

Still, there was no reason to call him out on it. If Rhysand had found her, he must be still looking for her sisters. She didn’t believe for a minute he’d found Feyre—his bruiser would have pointed his gun at her by way of greeting had he. No, they were monitoring her.

And Nesta could watch them right back.

So she smiled, hoping she seemed innocent and sweet. “What a relief,” she lied, stepping to the side so he could come up. “I was starting to think I’d be trapped here forever.”

“Can I come inside?” Cassian asked, looking around her immaculate yard with interest. “It’s hot out here.”

“Better get used to that,” Nesta said, pulling open the screen door so Cassian could get the lay of the land. “Are you staying here?”

“If you don’t mind. The hotel is…”

Roach filled, she knew. People still went, content to carry out their clandestine affairs in filth so long as no one ever found out.

“I have a spare room,” Nesta told him. Cassian turned back for his own car—a brand new jeep that was laughably out of place in her little neighborhood. He returned with two bags slung over his broad shoulders, eyes hidden behind his glasses. The sun hit the golden brown of his skin, making it seem as if he glowed and tragically, Nesta thought he was a good looking man.

He’d kill her if she wasn’t careful…but attractive, all the same.

Nesta showed him to the smaller room she kept made up just in case Gwyn or Emerie wanted to stay the night, thinking the full sized bed didn’t seem big enough for this man. He had to duck beneath the doorway, putting him well over six foot three—maybe six six? He made Nesta, who stood tall at five nine, feel dainty by comparison.

“Should I call you Cassian, or…?”

“Cassian is fine,” he replied, sunglasses resting atop his head. “This is perfect, by the way. I promise you’ll barely know I exist.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nesta said in a flirty voice as she eyed him. “I think it would be hard not to notice you.” He grinned, unaware that a real agent would have shut her down in seconds. “Well, Miss Agnes, I’ll do my best to keep out of your hair.”

Nesta offered him another smile, mind racing. If she survived tonight she assumed she’d survive as long as he wanted her to—and as long as she didn’t admit she knew what he was. That meant keeping it from Gwyn and Emerie, who wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from treating him like a criminal.

He thought she was prey, but Nesta Archeron was a survivor. A predator, just like this man. And she had lived in Georgia for five years—she had guns hidden all over the house. He didn’t need to know any of that, though. Nesta waited while he unpacked some of his things and peeked around her little house, mostly quiet as he cased her. Sitting on her sofa beneath a ceiling fan moving at top speed, Nesta heard him push open the back door and walk through the yard where she assumed he was testing the gate.

He messed with windows when he returned, pushing back curtains to peer out into the street. “You’re wide open out here,” he finally said with a frown on his pretty face. And he was pretty—sculpted and rough in a way that was hard to ignore. Nesta found herself noticing the green in his hazel eyes and the way stubble clung to his strong jaw. A slit cut through his eyebrow while faint scars littered his jaw and hands, betraying a man who knew his way around a fight.

He was fooling no one but himself.

“This is where you put me,” she reminded him, wondering if he understood what she was really saying.

“Maybe we’ll keep the curtains closed,” Cassian said, as if Nesta didn’t do that anyway. The sun was unforgiving and the only way to survive swampy summers was to try and keep things shady and cool.

“Do you want to take off your jacket?”

“I want to take everything off,” he admitted, shrugging out of what she had to assume was stolen. “Even my own skin.”

“That’s how I felt when I first got here,” she told him. He’d look back on all this and remember—he’d realize she knew the moment he stepped onto her lawn. “You get used to it.”

She was going to kill him, she realized. The knowledge slammed into Nesta’s chest violently, paralyzing her for a moment. She’d never killed anyone…but at some point she’d have to kill this man before he killed her. Cassian, for his part, was unaware of the slant of her thoughts. He must have already known when he came down that he planned to kill her just as soon as he was given the order. She doubted he intended to take her home…and if he did, it would be under duress.

That was future Nesta’s problem, though. For now, all she had to do was stay one step ahead of him. And that meant pretending like she believed every word coming out of his mouth and ignored all the obvious signs that he was a liar.

“Hungry?” she asked.

“Starving,” Cassian agreed. He vanished into the room she’d given him, leaving Nesta enough time to try and steady her nervous hands. By the time Cassian returned, Nesta was slicing up meat for the grill outside. There was absolutely no way she was turning on her oven.

“Can I help you with that?”

Instinct demanded she say no. She didn’t want Cassian anywhere near lighter fluid, for one. He looked so earnest and she was pretending, so Nesta nodded. “I haven’t seasoned it yet.”

“Leave it to me,” Cassian said with an easy smile. And she did, watching him from the corner of her eye while he seasoned her meat and vegetables. He vanished out the back door and when he returned, sweat glistened over his face. Nesta found herself standing there for a moment, staring as he pulled the rest of his hair off his face, biceps straining against the cuff of his t-shirts.

Cassian was heavily tattooed with black ink that crawled over his arms and up his neck, broken only by the sweaty shirt he wore.

“Why do people live like this?” Cassian asked, wiping his brow on his sleeve. “It’s horrible.”

“I keep saying it,” she replied honestly. “I would have preferred a colder climate.”

“Next time,” Cassian grumbled. “What are you doing now?”

“Cutting up fruit. Want some?”

Cassian picked a blueberry out of the bowl and popped it into his mouth. “How do you spend your time, anyway?”

“I’m the town lawyer,” Nesta informed him. “I work in a little office down on Main Street.”

“And when you’re not working?”

She shrugged. “I have friends…but I mostly read.”

He glanced toward her shelves of books in the living room, visible from the hall connecting the two. “Anything interesting?”

“Take a look,” was all Nesta could think to respond. Cassian didn’t take her up on her offer, turning instead to go check on the grilling meat. Had she not known who he was, Nesta might have thought the awkward environment was just because a stranger had invaded her space.

It felt almost normal.

Almost.

Because Nesta couldn’t forget a killer was sitting across from her, his hands soaked in blood. She kept coming back to it as they ate in relative silence. Why had Rhysand sent him here? What did he want with her? Nesta needed to figure it out.

And figure it out fast.

CASSIAN:

Nesta Archeron was beautiful.

Cassian hadn’t expected it. He’d seen a picture of Feyre only once and had kind of imposed her face on all three Archerons. Walking up to her house had been a surreal experience. For one, all Cassian could see was her tits pressed against the neckline of that sundress she wore. Holy fucking Christ, but Nesta’s body was something out of his most depraved fantasies.

But her eyes were something else. Icy blue and calculated, it was no surprise Nesta had survived five years out mostly on her own. Did she even know her sisters were guarded by federal agents while she was left to fend for herself?

It irked Cassian. Sure, he was grateful he’d been able to gain access to her life so easily, but surely someone was keeping their eyes on this woman? So the likes of him couldn’t just stroll into her home and do whatever he liked with her?

But after two days living with Nesta, Cassian learned that no one seemed to care if she lived or died. Which was just as well—because he was starting to care. Just a little, he told himself that second night as he laid in bed staring up at the ceiling fan.

His only job was to get her back to Rhysand in one piece once he’d tracked down Feyre and married her. Nesta wouldn’t even know until it was all too late and the feds would lose their pathetic case.

And then Cassian could go back to his regular life in a place that wasn’t drenched in humidity. How did anyone sleep? Even with Nesta’s air conditioner going at full blast, Cassian found himself shucking off his shirt and kicking the sheets to the floor in a desperate attempt at sleep.

Thinking the living room might be cooler, Cassian dragged his blanket with him to the couch where he found Nesta, half hidden in the dark with a piece of toast in her hand.

Her little night dress was enough to empty out his mind. Why was she so hot? Cassian could see every curve of her perfect body beneath the silken blue fabric and her hair was loose around her shoulders rather than braided in a crown atop her head.

He wanted to lick the salt off her skin.

He wanted to lick a lot of things, actually.

Cassian was fairly certain federal agents weren’t supposed to have sex with their charges—even if Rhysand was certain Vanserra had something going on with the middle Archeron. Cassian wasn’t anything close to a cop and fucking was his favorite thing to do.

“I ah..” Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly hyper aware that all he wore was a pair of loose shorts. Nesta was looking only at his face with a grim determination—as if she found it very difficult to do so.

You can look at any part of me you like.

Having sex with her would certainly pass the time.

“It’s hot,” Nesta said, flipping on a lamp on the side table. “I keep meaning to get someone out here to look at my AC, but…”

“I’ll look at it,” Cassian promised. “Before the sun comes up.”

“You’re handy?”

He was, actually. “I grew up with a single mom,” he said, flashing her a smile before making his way to the sofa. “We didn’t have a lot of money, so I learned how to do repairs.” Nesta tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Unwilling to give her a reason to banish him, Cassian made a show of fluffing the couch cushions before stretching himself out.

“My shower doesn’t have hot water,” she finally told him.

Cassian grinned in the dark. “I can take a look at that, too.”

“I would appreciate it,” Nesta replied.

“Why don’t you make me a list? I’ve got nothing else to do all day and I feel like a freeloader sitting on your couch.”

That was true. Cassian was used to staying busy and suddenly he had nothing but downtime. It was tempting to go to the library and find his own books to read and treat the entire thing like a vacation. This would help build trust between them, he rationalized.

And Cassian liked having something to do. He liked being useful to people.

“I could do that,” Nesta said, still standing in his line of sight. Even in the dark, Cassian could see her nipples pointed through the fabric. He wanted to touch them.

“I’m here to help,” Cassian reminded her.

“Of course,” she said, her tone unreadable to him.

He nearly asked if she wanted to join him. It was on the tip of his tongue, but Nesta beat him to speaking, adding, “Well. Sleep well, Cassian.”

“You too,” he said, disappointment ribboning through him. It was absurd to think a woman like Nesta Archeron was going to crawl in his dirtbag lap.

Still, Cassian could dream. And he did, waking with a throbbing erection he had to discreetly handle in the freezing cold shower. Cassian hadn’t noticed it wasn’t hot given the air was miserable and he didn’t want to take a boiling shower for once. He could hear Nesta in her room listening to music, up with dawn just like he was.

He found tools out in her garden shed, unused and rusty. They’d likely belonged to the previous tenant, whoever they’d been. Still, they worked well enough for Cassian’s purposes. What she needed was an entirely new unit. Cassian guessed the old one was over a decade long and judging from the rattling, it was on its final legs.

He had money. A lot of money. Would she believe him if he told her the agency had decided to replace it? Nesta didn’t strike him as particularly stupid—if they’d never helped her before, she might not believe they’d help her now. He couldn’t live the way they had been, though, which was how Cassian found himself on the phone with the local repairman giving out his credit card details over the phone.

Nesta was gone by the time Cassian came back into the house, drenched in sweat and slightly sunburned on the tops of his arms. It was a relief to get into the basement and work on the water heater, and by the time Cassian finished, the service guys were there to replace Nesta’s air conditioner. It required them to turn the air off which was actual hell, though once it was back up, Cassian felt instant relief.

Nesta returned with a scowl on her face, dressed in a pencil skirt that made Cassian’s mouth dry out. How had Archeron managed to create her? Cassian had met him—he was nothing special. An unremarkable man in every way imaginable, including his appearance.

Nesta could have modeled. Could have had her face on billboards, her body in magazines. Had he met her back home, he knew he’d have dogged her steps hoping for just a look in his direction.

“Any news?” Nesta asked, sliding her keys and purse onto a side table. Cassian watched her kick off her heels and turn her face upwards toward the vents blowing cold air.

“Nope,” he said. What would Rhys do if he kept her here for a year? Kick his ass, likely. “Rough day?”

Holding up a cloth shopping bag, Nesta nodded her head while Cassian rose to take it from her. Inside he found an assortment of peppers, onions, and a rather nice steak he assumed she wanted to grill. Cassian had never grilled before he met her and found that he rather liked it. In fact, he liked the whole little game he was playing. Pretending to be the sort of man who had a house and a wife and a barbeque suited him.

In another life, Cassian would have thrived.

“I’m working on another divorce and her soon to be ex stopped by to tell me what he thought about me.”

“I hope it was to tell you you’re beautiful,” Cassian replied without thinking as he peeled stickers from the vegetables.

“No it wasn’t,” Nesta replied, her tone uncertain. “It was to tell me what a bitch I am.”

Cassian arched a brow. “Did you tell him to get fucked?”

Nesta chuckled. “Not this time…but I wanted to. He thinks if he digs his heels in, he can avoid this divorce but it’s happening either way.”

“This is why I’m not married,” Cassian said, reaching for a knife.

“Oh?” Nesta asked, an amused smile on her perfect face. “Is that the only reason?”

Cassian couldn’t help his grin. “I’m off-putting to women, of course.”

“There it is,” she said with a pretty laugh. “Want any help?”

“Get out of my kitchen, Nes,” Cassian replied, swatting her away. “Water’s fixed, by the way.”

The whole thing was warm and domestic. Nesta thanked him before sauntering off, hips swaying with each step. The only thing to temper Cassian’s hot blood was the hotter grill outside and a reminder that Nesta was off limits to him.

He was merely a guard meant to get her back home before the feds scooped her and her sisters back up again. Collateral, he supposed, for the game Rhys was playing with Feyre. Cassian was grateful for that, at least—if Rhys called him and told him to kill her, he wasn’t certain he could do it.

Cassian returned to find Nesta in a pair of tiny little shorts and a pink tank top. He wished she’d pull her hair down, still left in its braided crown, though in truth he could have stood at the backdoor and stared at her for an embarrassing length of time.

“What did I say about the kitchen?” he teased, setting his tray of meat and vegetables on the counter beside her.

“I wanted to make a little salad,” Nesta told him, showing him the bowl. “Do you even eat vegetables?”

“On occasion,” Cassian said with an easy grin. “I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me, though. I’m not picky.”

“Tell me about yourself, Cassian,” Nesta ordered once they were seated at her little wooden table.

“There’s nothing interesting to tell,” he replied. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I’ll bet you’re a lot more interesting than I am.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Nesta murmured.

“C’mon,” Cassian cajoled. Nesta sighed, eyes narrowed with that suspicious look he was growing so fond of. Was there such a thing as love at first sight, he wondered? Cassian was starting to suspect he was under its spell. Under hers, anyway. Nesta relented, telling him little stories he figured were probably half true.

Cassian knew the right questions to ask, at any rate. Careful not to mention her family, Cassian asked her about everything else. Nesta spoke about going to law school and living in Georgia, mentioning two friends she’d made—Gwyn the librarian and Emerie the grocer. He’d seen them on his porch when he first arrived.

He needed to do a little digging on them, but he figured they were likely fine.

“What about you?” Nesta asked, their meal long concluded. Cassian began gathering up dishes.

“What about me?”

“Are you from Georgia?” she questioned.

Cassian chuckled. “No, I’m not from Georgia. Just got unlucky in my assignment, I guess.”

“Why did you want to do this work?”

Cassian considered that. “I’m good at it,” he replied, drumming his fingers along the edge of the sink. “I kind of fell into it, actually. I guess I succumb easily to peer pressure because when one of my friends suggested I apply, I did it without hesitation.”

That wasn’t entirely true. There had been no application process—he and Rhys had become friends as boys and Rhys’s mother had been like a second mother to Cassian. He’d always wanted to repay them for their kindness and when Rhys asked him to join him as his right hand man, the answer had been obvious.

He couldn’t tell Nesta that, though. She didn’t poke, either, seemingly satisfied with his answer. While Cassian cleaned up, Nesta made her way to the living room, picked up a book, and curled up on the couch. Cassian watched her pull a blanket from the back of the sofa and drape it over her tanned knees.

“Cold, huh?” he joked.

“You fixed—”

A gunshot silenced both of them. Nesta jumped clean out of her skin, book falling from her trembling hands. Cassian frowned, his own heart racing with excitement. Finally, something interesting was happening.

His own gun was in his hand before Nesta ever stood. “Don’t move,” he whispered, motioning for her to get away from the window.

“Send the bitch outside!” a man’s voice yelled, filling Cassian with cold rage. He was at the door in a moment, flinging it open so it was his large body filling the space. On the lawn, a man stumbled forward, gun pointed at the sky. He pulled the trigger again, clearly trying to intimidate Cassian.

Cassian had been tied up before, a gun pressed against his lips while his cock was threatened with a knife. Some fucking rural drunk with a gun didn’t scare him. In truth, very little scared Cassian. He’d cheated death more times than he could count and he knew, as he stepped onto the lawn in the fading daylight, that he wasn’t going to die today.

This man, on the other hand…well. Cassian supposed it would depend on what he did next.

“Lower your weapon!” Cassian barked, his voice rough and menacing. The man jerked to look at him, eyes wide and watery. “Put your gun down or I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Send out your bitch—”

Cassian didn’t shoot him, but he did hit him in the face. Hard. Maybe too hard given the way the man crumpled at his feet as blood poured from his nose. Only the alcohol kept him from passing out which was lucky for Cassian.

Crouching in the grass, Cassian grabbed the man by his thinning hair and forced his head into an unnatural angle. “What did you say?”

“I called her a bitch,” the man spluttered through the blood.

Cassian cocked his gun with his free hand and pressed it to the man's cheek. “Try again,” he whispered, fully intending on killing this man on the front lawn. Cassian’s finger pressed against the trigger just as Nesta barked, “Cassian!”

He twisted to look at her, arms crossed over her chest. She was fury incarnate right then, marching toward the pair of them without a care in the world.

“Get out of her, Brent,” Nesta ordered, pointing her finger toward the gate. “This is embarrassing, even for you.”

“You ruined my life—”

“You ruined your own life by cheating on your wife!” Nesta spat without remorse. “And you’re ruining it by assaulting a federal officer.”

Cassian nearly choked. Did he look like a cop right then?

“He assaulted me,” Brent protested, shoving out of Cassian’s grip.

“If I see you near her again, you’ll find yourself six feet under before you can utter one fucking word. Do we understand each other?” Cassian asked, rising to his full height. Brent glanced from the gun in Cassian’s hand to Cassian himself before offering a sullen nod.

“Whatever,” he muttered, clearly trying to save face. Cassian watched him stumble off, forcing himself not to pull the trigger anyway at the man’s retreating back. Nesta came to stand beside Cassian, resting her soft, small hand on his forearm.

“That’s the guy getting the divorce,” she told him, as if Cassian cared who he was. Letting someone who threatened him walk away unscathed felt wrong and Cassian longed to rectify it. Where did he live, he wondered?

“I can see why,” Cassian muttered, turning back for the house. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“He’s not coming back—”

“He pointed a gun at you,” Cassian growled, the memory filling him with rage.

Nesta only shrugged, proving that she was still part of the life whether she wanted to be or not. Did she know what a liar her younger sister was, he wondered? Did Nesta know it had been Feyre who killed her father? Looking at her in the warm light of the house, Cassian decided that a woman like Nesta wouldn’t allow herself to live this way if she hadn’t known. If she wasn’t protecting someone.

Who was protecting her?

“I’m fine,” Nesta reminded him. But Cassian knew all too well how differently things could have gone if he hadn’t been there. Cassian knew how quickly a bullet could end things.

“I’ll feel better out here,” he said, setting his gun on the glass coffee table. “You won’t change my mind, Nes.”

She hesitated, eyes moving from him to the window. “Fine.”

Cassian had no intention of sleeping, though. He waited until he knew Nesta was asleep, slipping into her bedroom just to check. She was so lovely even in sleep and Cassian had to resist the urge to touch her face. Not tonight. Another night, perhaps—but not this night.

The thing about small towns he found himself appreciating was how easy it was to find people. Slipping into a local bar, Cassian mentioned what had happened to the bartender, who helpfully told him where Brent lived.

He didn’t bother to slip in quietly. If he wanted to be unnoticed, he would have called up Azriel. Cassian liked when his marks were scared, for whatever that said about him. Flexing his fingers, Cassian picked through the dirty, mostly empty house. He supposed Nesta was helping to clean him out.

Good for her.

Brent was waiting in a fraying brown chair, a bottle of Jack Daniels held loosely in one hand. “Knew you weren’t no cop,” he muttered. “You got the look of a felon.”

“Have you been talking to my third grade teacher?” Cassian asked, his tone light. “She used to say the same thing.”

“You ain’t foolin’ no one but that girl of yours,” Brent told him, eyeing the gun in Cassian’s hand.

“She’s the only one I need to fool,” Cassain agreed, coming closer. “I swore an oath to protect her.”

“I didn’t hurt her.”

“But you scared her,” Cassian said in that same friendly tone. “You came to her house and threatened her and I can’t stand for that.”

“Well, I don’t really care if I scared her. Sometimes women ought to be a little afraid.”

Cassian clenched his fingers. “Is that so?”

“Make your threats and get the fuck out,” Brent ordered, taking another swig of whiskey. Cassian saw his gun on a chipped side table.

“You don’t have much going for you, do you Brent? Wife left you, took all your money…is about to take your house. You’ve got no job, no friends…anyone would lose it.”

“Yeah,” Brent mumbled, eyes glassy. “You get it.”

“If I were you, I’d probably kill myself too,” Cassian added, holding Brent’s gun in his hand. Brent’s eyes found him, big and wide with shock.

“What did you say?”

Cassian shrugged, making his way closer to the inebriated man. “I don’t think anyone will be surprised when they find you. I’ll bet it takes them days before someone comes checking.”

“Look, you don’t have to do this. I can…I can pay you—”

“No you can’t,” Cassian said with a chuckle. “And even if you could, I wouldn’t take your money. This is about honor, of which you have none because an honorable man wouldn’t try and threaten a woman for doing her job.”

“She fucked me over—”

“You fucked yourself,” Cassian interrupted, reaching for Brent’s hair a second time. “And you made a mistake coming after her.”

“I’m sorry—”

Cassian pressed the barrel of the gun beneath Brent’s jaw.

“I know you are,” he said, holding the man’s gaze. “It’s not enough.”

And then he pulled the trigger. The relief he felt was instantaneous, his blood lust slaked. It took another few seconds to arrange the gun in Brent’s hand, letting both his arm and the weapon fall lifelessly into his lap. The bottle of Jack hit the floor with a thud, spilling over stained wood floors.

The scene was practically a work of art. Textbook suicide—no one would look twice at him or Nesta. That didn’t stop him from wiping his prints on the way out, just in case. He found himself back on the couch, face washed of blood, before two am.

Cassian had been right about one thing: it took them three days to find Brent.

“Suicide,” Nesta said crisply when she learned, eyes focused on Cassian’s face.

He only smiled.

#nessian #nesta archeron x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

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phoebepheebsphibs · 2 months

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Overanalyzing Leo's Fears

Leo's fear is easy to pinpoint. He's terrified of abandonment. But why? And is that all there is to it? Let's look into that...

Leo's past is a bit complicated and tumultuous... following the events after Draxum lost him, Leo spent something around an entire year living alone in the backstreets of the Hidden City. And then he met Mikey. The two were only five and four years old, but even at that age Leo knew he couldn't raise a toddler all by himself. So he went to an unscrupulous orphanage for help. For several years, Mikey and Leo lived in that hovel filled with starving kids, each one fighting for attention and family. But Leo saw Mikey's needs and always put him first, stealing extra rations for him and giving him the clothes he needed.

Leo and Mikey were placed in a system similar to foster care, where families would adopt them and go through a sort of trial run to see if the kids were a good fit. Mikey always fit in pleasantly, everyone loved him! But as for Leo... he never seemed to get it right. A rambunctious child, defiant and stubborn, and with a head made for schemes? He was constantly sent back to the orphanage. (As was Mikey, who would rather be with his brother than strangers.) So, Leo was given a twisted view of what families were like: people who pretend to care for you, but will eventually discard you once they find what's wrong with you. And there is ALWAYS something wrong with you...

Leo was against Mikey's little found family from the start, because he never trusted the idea of a family to begin with! But as time passed by, he slowly started to grow closer with the two other turtles Mikey adored. However, something happened that caused Leo to lose his trust in them, and as a result, he did what so many had done with him before -- he left. And not just Donnie and Raph, Leo left Mikey.

While he was soon to be reunited with his brothers, Leon felt incredible guilt over what he'd done to Michelangelo. He couldn't believe that he'd done that to his baby brother, he didn't understand why he'd left Mikey for something he never did, an excuse so stupid as "he'd be better off without me"?! Why? (Raph would eventually pinpoint that Leo was subconsciously trying to test Mikey's love for him, to see if he would come back to him even if he left, to prove wrong what Leo feared all his life...)

It comes back to the start. Before the betrayal, before the families that sent him back, before the orphanage that hated him. It was Draxum who first instilled this fear in him. Because Leo was never actually lost from Draxum. Leo was discarded. Because he would not obey or conform, Draxum threw the child into the gutters as a way to teach him self-reliance and survival skills. (And even before that, what Leo doesn't remember but his subconscious still retains... is that Raph left him originally. In the character sheet for Raph, you'll find the last thing it says is Raph's earliest memory -- of him promising to find someone before running away. That was Leo. Raph promised to come back for him, to find him again and save him and the others... but after running away, he was discovered by Big Mama and soon lost all memory of the other experiments. Leo won't recall that moment, but the pain it caused stays with him.)

Leo expects everyone he loves to leave him. Because he believes -- no, it has been ingrained into him that he is worthless, and that the world is cruel.

#fear of abandonment #rottmnt leo #rottmnt #writing angst #writing fears #rottmnt until i found you #until i found you #until i found you au #separated au #rottmnt separated au #fear fungus #no fun in fungus #fear spores

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dialovers-lover-xoxo · 2 months

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Ruki's Relationship Alphabet!

Sakamaki Brothers linked at the end!

Under a cut cuz it's long

I hope you enjoy! ❤️

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A - Activities (What activities do you do as a couple with him?)

Ruki enjoys reading together by the fire, kind of like a book club. You read the same chapter using the same book or separate books and then discuss. If you're sharing a book he'll seat you on his lap. He's very reserved with PDA but only the physical kind like kissing or being in his lap. He also teaches you how to ride a horse and you do that together. Even when it's a busy day, he makes time to hold and kiss you at night.

B - Beauty (What physical attribute do they admire about you?)

Ruki likes your face but can restrain from staring. He enjoys touching your hair and plays with it when you're sitting on his lap. He likes your legs and enjoys touching your waist and hips.

C - Comfort (How would they comfort you when you're upset or having a panic attack?)

Ruki handled it surprisingly well. He does the basic shushing noises and suggest you rest but listens and takes note of what you tell him will work and help. He'll calmly get rid of anything he thinks may cause you unease.

D - Dreams (Do they picture a future with you? If so, what does that future look like?)

Oh yes, absolutely. Obviously there's the whole Adam and Eve thing, but in general he likes the idea of a simple and domestic life. After being spoiled growing up he saw that he prefers to keep what he loves close and not be materialistic or over-flashy. He wants a marriage, kids, and his brothers close, all in one mansion.

E - Equal (Are they dominating/dominant in the relationship or passive?)

Ruki is incredibly dominant. Even in a true romantic relationship that will not change. He might occasionally enjoy you being a cheeky, but he will not tolerate what he sees as disrespect or disobedience.

F - Fight (Do they forgive easily? How do they fight?)

Ruki is a prideful man, but notably in later games, he can admit when he's gone too far. Apologizing isn't easy for him and you'd probably have to reach out first but amends will be made. He does not yell or throw or hit. But his low voice still instills fear and it still holds the dominance he's known for.

G - Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? How do they show their gratitude?)

Ruki is a prideful and arrogant man. Gratitude he has is more so being pleased that you're obeying him. He does have gratitude to your love and loyalty and he shows that with reciprocation and thoughtful actions more than he does with words. His words aren't explicit "thank yous" they are "You are what matters to me" and "You have made my life greater"

H - Honesty (Do they share everything with you? If they do keep something from you, why?)

Ruki is an honest man but at the same time he's not above keeping secrets, so long as he believes it's in your best interest or there's simply no reason for you to get involved. He is much more secretive and private regarding Karlheinz.

I - Inspiration (Did they get inspired to change by you? How so?)

Depending on if it's similar to a route where he's no longer loyal to Karlheinz, you've inspired him to remember love and family over all else, and that there are other ways to show appreciation for being alive and safe.

J - Jealousy (Do they get jealous easily? How do they act when they're jealous?)

Not so much jealous as he is simply possessive. Jealousy requires insecurity, a fear that your partner will leave you because they think someone's better. Ruki is certain you love him and are loyal to him, so it's possesiveness more so than it is jealousy. He is very possessive. You generally aren't allowed to talk to other men and your time with women is limited because he simply wants you in his sight at all times. Though he's happy you get along with his brothers and he knows nothing romantic or sexual would ever happen with his brothers and you, in the beginning he didn't like you interacting with them much but now he's fine with and he loves that you're a close family.

K - Kiss (Are they a good kisser? What are their kisses like? What was the first kiss like?)

Oh, yes, he's a very good kisser. Passionate but gentle. He's not a fan of tongue, he considers it sloppy, undignified and just kinda gross. He likes to possesively wrap his arms around your waist or cup your cheek softly. Your first kiss was kind of an experiment for him. He kind of just wanted to kiss you and it was before he had really come to accept romantic feelings.

L - Love Confession (What was their love confession like?)

It was unexpected to both you and him. He didn't blurt it out, he just kinda rambled on about how much he thinks if you and how happy you've made him and how beautiful you are and it just kinda escalated into this long-winded confession of love. He never confessed like "I realized I love you" it was more "You make me feel fulfilled in a way that can only be romantic love."

M - Marriage (Do they want to get married? How would they propose?)

Yes, absolutely. He wants it private so while the two of you tell his brothers the day after (even though they already figured it was coming) it happened in private, like in Ruki's bedroom. On one knee, with a gorgeous ring.

N - Nicknames (What do they call you as a term of endearment? Where did the nickname come from?)

Obviously there's Livestock, but he'll also call you "Love" unless you actually go by a shortened version of your name, he never refers to you by a shortened version of your name.

O - On cloud 9 (What are they like in love? Can other people tell?)

Ruki is a stoic man, but his brothers can tell. Even when he has his cold expression in public, there's a warmth in his eyes when he looks at or talks about you that simply can't be denied. Other people may notice if they pay attention.

P - PDA (Are they shy or upfront about their relationship with you? Will they kiss in public?)

He generally prefers physical PDA to be in private. He doesn't even feel comfortable doing it in front of his brothers, at least not often and not for long. He'll hold your hand and maybe give you a brief possessive kiss.

Q - Quirk (Something random about them that's beneficial in a relationship)

Though he originally did, he grows to not underestimate you. In fact, he has a strong belief in you and trusts you to make decisions, though he trusts himself more and remains pretty controlling

R - Romance (How romantic are they?What is their idea of romance like?)

He is romantic. Jewelry and flowers and always making time for a nice dinner with you. He especially always kisses your hand. Even when he's busy he does small romantic gestures like that.

S - Support (Do they help you reach your goals? Do they believe in you?)

He's very controlling and there will always be a power imbalance because he sees himself as your master, but he can be very supportive and he does truly admire and acknowledge your skills and intelligence so yes.

T - Thrill (Do they like trying new things in a relationship? Or do they prefer routine?)

He likes routine because he simply likes it simple. He's happy with a life with you and his brothers and kids eventually. Maybe a nice honeymoon or vacation for just the two of you.

U - Understanding (How well do they understand you)

He has a very good understanding of you but no one is 100% consistently predictable and because he considers himself to know you perfectly he tends to get more surprised than someone usually would if you act differently due to stress or something like that

V - Value (How important is your relationship to them?)

As important as his brothers. Just like in Dark Fate he originally said you were second to Karlheinz but realized that he was in denial.

W - Wild card (A random fluff headcanon)

He has a really witty sense of humor and loves when you laugh.

X - XOXO (Are they affectionate? Do they like to kiss and cuddle)

Yes, he's a huge snuggler, especially being the big spoon. He also enjoys kissing a lot so he's frequently affectionate.

Y - Yearning (How will they cope when they miss you?)

He's less clingy than other diaboys but there's always a sense of unease when you're not with him. He tries to distract himself or seek comfort in his brothers, mainly Azusa because Azusa is more intuitive and calm about things.

Z - Zeal (Are they willing to go to great lengths for your relationship?)

Yes, without a doubt. Anything.

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Feedback and reblogs are appreciated! ❤️

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fandom #ruki mukami #mukami ruki #diabolik lovers headcanons #diabolik lovers ruki mukami #diabolik lovers ruki #diabolik lovers mukami #fluff alphabet

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blakeswritingimagines · 9 months

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Aemond has to choose between you and your child.

Choosing the child:

A question that does make one think. It is a hard choice. One who is his blood, and one who is the love of his life. One who he has committed himself to in marriage, and one who is his most precious of gifts from the gods. However, he would ultimately choose his child. For it is his child who will one day inherit his legacy, not his wife. And a king must always choose his successors.

If it were, somehow, impossible for him to save you both, he would choose his child. The way he looks at it, you have already lived your own long life and had your own experiences, but the child’s life has barely begun.

His child is his blood, a piece of him and you. A thing that you made together. A small piece of him that can continue to live on after him. You are his love, but you are only a human. One that one day he shall be without. The child is his blood, his heir, and his legacy. He could not abandon them.

He would grieve at the loss of you. He would spend nights in tears over a choice he was forced to make. He would remember your name, your face, your touch. But his heart would remain strong. He would remind himself every day of why he made the choice he made. And he would carry you in his memories for the rest of his life.

He couldn’t bring himself to resent the child for what happened, as he knows that they did nothing wrong or intentional. However, they would serve as a reminder of what he did. Something he couldn’t help but feel guilty for. Especially when he sees you in them or how they act, he would not be able to forgive himself for what has happened. That is what he would truly resent.

It is only natural that the child comes first. You spend years with them, raise them, nurture them, mold them, and in the end, they become the pride of his life, for they are the ones who continue his legacy. When a wife dies, a man can simply remarry to another, but when a child dies, their future is forever lost. So, he would definitely choose his child over his wife, as harsh as that may be.

The choice cannot be based merely on emotion, but must be based in what is best for the realm. He feels it's his duty to provide stability and peace to the Seven Kingdoms. And if he is a father, it is his duty first and foremost to ensure his child survives. If you must give your life, so be it. But your child must survive. Such is the way of things.

He has thought about what it means to be a father on more than one occasion, especially as he has gotten older. He has come to the conclusion that he wants to be a father who is both kind, yet stern. One who is both loving to their sons and daughters, but would not hesitate to correct their behavior. He wants to be a father who is there for everyone, and is always available to listen to. A father who can instill the right values in his children.

Choosing you:

It is a question he prays he will never have to answer. To be faced with that decision would fill him with more dread than facing the most terrible of armies on the battlefield. He believes that a husband’s duty is to his wife, and a father’s duty is to his children. A man should never have to make such a choice. However, if he does find himself in that situation, he would have to choose you. As he has swore to love and protect you. You are his priority above all else.

A husband’s love for his wife is sacred. It is something special, that can never be duplicated with anyone else. It can only be found once in a lifetime, and it is something that is meant to be cherished. He could never love another person in the way he loves you. And he would never wish to. You are his chosen one. His soulmate. And he knows that if he was in such a situation, you would feel the same way about your child. You would choose your child. There is no question in his mind about that.

You have trusted him with your heart, and with your life. It is his responsibility to protect you, and to keep you safe. This also means to protect you from harm, and from losing the child. So, he would choose you. It does not mean that the child would not be a huge loss for him, it only means that he cannot break the trust you have given him.

His children are an extension of himself, thus protecting them is just as important. They represent the future of the dynasty, and are valuable. Yet they are not yet fully formed humans, they have yet to live their lives. You have lived and are fully formed, and in turn is therefore his priority.

Yes. If he has lost a child in favor of you, he would do all he can to try and have another. A child is an invaluable gift, he knows that as well as anyone. If he lost one, he would attempt to have another. And again, and again, until you have a whole flock to protect and love for you the whole lifetime.

The children rely on him, to provide them with love, food for their bellies, a roof above their head and all the comforts and privileges that he himself have had the privilege of benefiting in his childhood. He could only wish for a happy childhood for them as they are growing up, the same as he experienced. However, if he does find himself in a situation where he has to choose, he would choose you every time.

He also knows that in a society such as yours, the well being of a child depends greatly on the stability and care of the mother. If the mother dies then the child would be subject to uncertainty and chaos at a young age. This could affect their development and ultimately their well being, which would be a great tragedy. Therefore, he feels you are the correct choice.

#aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #house of the dragon

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athene-owl · 4 months

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Dream Video Bullshit

I decided against my better judgement to watch Dream's latest video. Here are the main things I wanted to say - if I don't mention something it's probably because I actually agree with what Dream said or don't know/care. A lot of this is rambling and venting because I'm annoyed and refuse to give him/his fans anymore of my energy or time to polish up this post.

1:16 - Dream says his accusers will make it harder for 'real victims in the future' to be believed and I just need to say that this felt like a really brash and entitled thing to start the video up with. Now you wanna care about victims Dream? After what happened last year? We'll get to that.

3:40 - This is a very small thing but Dream says here that in one video while he was playing Minecraft muted, he was being 'interviewed' by a SWAT Team member next to him in the room and I just can't help but question the validity of this because how did this happen? You were swatted and had someone in the room with you asking questions and you divided your attention between that and still playing Minecraft? You didn't just stop playing to focus on the SWAT Team? This barely matters but it fascinates me.

5:09 - Dream really goes out of his way here to point out that his speedrun cheating was discovered by a cheater and plays a clip showing how illegitimate this guy's speedruns were. This absolutely feels like him shifting blame and trying to paint this rando as a bad person to somehow excuse his own cheating which he says was unintentional. At 5:30 he says him and a developer had ruled out him using a mod - how did they determine this when he WAS proven to have used a mod and insisted he didn't realize? He doesn't elaborate.

6:30 - Here Dream acknowledges his behavior towards the speedrunning mods was bad and takes responsibility for it which is good but does not erase all the drama and bullshit he caused. When that whole thing went down, his stans passionately took his side but now that he's admitted to acting wrong they are fawning over his maturity - you guys sure didn't have a problem with it back then. At 6:40 he makes the point that the speedrun was 3 years ago and a lot has changed and I just don't see that change when he's still causing dumbass drama every week. Good on him for taking his videos down and apologizing to the mods but, again, his stans were all enthusiastically on his side then so I don't want to hear them now praising him for doing the right thing when clearly his behavior wasn't enough to turn them away from him 3 years ago. This is a trend with Dream's stans.

10:02 - Here Dream admits he was wrong to immediately and publicly disregard the info dug up about his domestic abuser friend which OK, good to admit, but 2 things - 1. Why, only a year ago, were you so quick and eager to disregard reports of abuse and 2. How did the fandom react to this. Again, if people took his side and disbelieved the victim, they can't now be so proud of him for admitting he was wrong. This does NOT instill confidence in me that him and his community would take later allegations against Dream seriously. Hot take, but I really think his initial response was despicable, irresponsible and I just feel sorry for the guy's victim in all of this. At 11:48 he pats himself on the back for how he handled the situation (besides initially brushing off the evidence) and ends with "I made it clear I didn't support domestic violence even at the detriment of one of my oldest friendships" and I'm sorry but given how Dream conducts himself, that feels like a manipulative little ploy to look good and garner pity for doing the bare minimum. Again, how many of his stans leapt at the chance to brush aside abuse reports and documented evidence and what did he do?

EDIT: Previously I thought the info on the friend was revealed by the victim herself speaking up but I was corrected on this and now know it was the friend's info being leaked and people snooping. Check my reblog for more info.

15:00 - He defends his Snapchat use with the fact that he promotes content on there but the photos consist of him doing random shit in his day-to-day life so I fail to see how that promotes his content rather than feeding his fans' parasocial relationship with him lol. At 15:20 he admits he isn't the one liking weird fanart on his account and 1. He's just admit he's been lying about running his own account for years and 2. Did he ever speak against the weird sexualisation in his community? Why did he allow his friend to keep liking weird shit, only messaging her to unlike it after the fact rather than laying the rules out? Idk this is just weird man. At 15:23 he shows a tweet by a defender of his stating that clearly he runs his account because if he had someone else running it, there would be a disclaimer. His fans gave him the benefit of the doubt and chastised others for not doing the same only to be proven wrong themselves lmao

17:08 - Dream claims he 'doesn't take himself too seriously' and I do not fucking believe that. This man has the ego of a planet and is lashing out at others every fucking week over it. Be fucking for real.

20:10 - Here Dream admits that him calling his fanbase 'kittens' was weird and he regrets it but also insists the whole 'Discord kitten' meme wasn't big back then and, this is purely anecdotal, but I absolutely think it was. Anyway, again, I wonder how many of his fans defended this back in the day and how many of those same people will now agree with Dream it was embarrassing and weird solely because HE now says it is and not because they can critically look at his behavior themselves. I'm skeptical of him insisting it wasn't meant in a weird way and he randomly chose the term 'kitten' because everyone back then instantly connected it to the Discord kitten thing but ok.

21:29 - Dream discusses the whole 'selling baby photos of himself' thing which I had never heard about before and am a bit gagged by. Anyway, here he specifically points out that celebrities have sold their baby photos before as if that helps his case at all, he explains the hard drive wristband thing was the product BUT it is still insanely weird and egotistical to me to include baby photos on that drive. He compares this to a biography but, again, this does not help the parasocial allegations because what the fuck has he done in his life to warrant a biography and what sort of audience needs this? I know this might be sacrilege to say but uhh this was objectively weird of him to do and he cannot sway my mind on that. Also for someone who doesn't take himself seriously, he sure was happy to quote himself on the hard drive???

36:09 - Finally into the more serious shit. Here, Dream points out the fact that Amanda was defending him when the whole face reveal happened 10 days before her allegations came out + liking his tweets 2 days before the allegations. I just wanna say this really means little, victims can be in denial or have complicated feelings. Also, at 36:18 he then says that she made her accusations because of the hate train following the face reveal and she wanted to get in on it even though he just said she was supportive of him and defending him? He's spinning this both ways - saying she was supportive to discredit her claim and then saying she suddenly hated him to also discredit her claim.

38:05 - He gets his mum involved to prove a point and I cannot emphasize enough how meaningless this is, even if its the truth you expect me to think your mother is unbiased and wouldn't lie to cover your ass?

40:06 - Bold of Dream to criticize Amanda for not treating the situation seriously when Dream stans are running around calling this shit a 'drontroversy'. At 44:20 he even says this isn't online drama. He also uses the image below as proof of her wanting him or whatever which 1. Doesn't matter when discussing underage exploitation because her behavior would never warrant her being taken advantage of and 2. Also shows him making weird sexual comments which he vehemently denied doing earlier.

42:12 - Dream asks how, if Amanda is dishonest about some things, how can anything she says be trusted? Why can't that same logic be applied to Dream for things he has no actual evidence for? He makes this argument again at 43:20 - if she's lying about the photo, how do you know she's not lying about everything else? Not a great argument from Dream of all people.

44:00 - AGAIN this man relies on victim-blaming rhetoric to make his point - "Go to the police. Or sue me. The standard of proof for you suing me is only proving that it's more likely than not that you're telling the truth. 51%. Come take my money." The insinuation that it's easy or simple for women to take men to court and sue them for sexual crimes is laughable and shows a real arrogance and ignorance to Dream. Again, regardless of how true the allegations were, women have gone to court with every type of evidence under the sun and still got nothing so what makes Dream assume this is an easy process? Do victims need to sue their abusers to be telling the truth? With all of his money and privilege, would Dream not be at a huge advantage in court? Weak argument that really feels disrespectful. At 44:15 he makes a little remark about how in court, her 'weird comments' and 'character' would have to be questioned and answered for. Despite the fact that any comments she made as a minor would be irrelevant in this case, despite the fact that someone's 'character' doesn't automatically determine whether they're a victim or not, this is also a funny comment because he's right - yeah, in court the female accuser would be picked apart and judged for shit that doesn't matter. Good thinking there Dream, really making your case!

44:25 - Here he gives a little lecture to Amanda about her hurting 'real victims' and again, as a reminder, this man publicly disregarded those concerned about intricate reports of abuse, has watched as his fans doxed and abused countless people and yet positions himself as an authority on deciding who is a real victims and who isn't. What also makes shit hard for victims is highly popular men like him convincing people to instantly disbelieve women, send them endless hate and make ignorant comments about how victims act. I don't want to hear any moral lecturing from Dream of all people about others 'hurting real victims'. Argue with the wall.

He then has a whole section on Nick Cantu and let me make this clear - Nick being a violent asshole has nothing to do with Dream's behavior or the allegations so I don't care and I do in fact think he focused on it to make himself look better.

57:50 - Dream wants to talk about the dangers of swatting and doxxing. You know, his own stans have doxxed people and once endangered a black person by sending police to their house for a welfare check in an area where welfare checks had resulted in black people being murdered by cops. He says that he always condemned this behavior but shows no proof of this. What actions did he directly take to discourage and stop this and help the people his own supporters had hurt? If anyone has receipts on anything he's done to help, feel free to show me because he provides no evidence of doing anything and I am really not amused by him skirting around his own community's doxxing of people.

1:00:20 - So here he plays the infamous moaning video in it's entirety but has it muted? I get it's gross but when the audio is the whole point, it seems so useless to play it muted. Just a weird choice but it is easy to find elsewhere.

1:09:28 - Makes another statement here that if something is disproven in court then that means it didn't happen which is blatantly untrue, esp when we're talking about sexual crimes. Very ignorant thing to say and really annoys me with how much he's positioning himself as a champion for victims.

After this Dream does a lot more talking about how people treat victims and it's mostly good stuff but AGAIN this is coming from the guy whose fans have doxxed countless people and who instantly mocked people for caring about serious abuse reports. He never makes this parallel, he never points out that he has undoubtedly done more harm to victims with his bullshit, he just puts himself on a moral high ground and its really obnoxious. I cannot emphasize enough how fucking annoying and self congratulatory this man is holy fuck.

EDIT: Initially I had a point here about how little Dream went into the 24 page document released compiling evidence against him, but I was informed this came out right before the video's release, a day before or on the same day it appears. I thought incorrectly it had come out earlier, I will say I still believe he needs to address this in the future, check my reblog for more details.

1:17:00 - This is a doozy and will be my closing point. Dream spends a bit talking about 'false allegations' and calls it a popular trend, happening to hundreds of online creators. IRL, false allegations for rape are severely exaggerated and, if anything, rape is horribly under reported. Women are significantly more likely to be raped then men are to be 'falsely accused' and, when you factor in how horrible the justice system is towards victims, rape culture, how difficult it can be to prove something like rape and how low the rates of successful convictions are, the truth is that a lot of 'disproven' cases are true and were just brushed aside. Furthermore, all crimes have 'false allegations' yet the only one to ever be discussed is rape because it's an easy out. I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that rape has comparatively low rates of 'false allegations' compared to other crimes but idk. I know the internet is different, I know people make up lies all the time but I am NOT fucking keen on how much Dream emphasizes false allegations as a common thing when IRL they are not. I am NOT looking forward to every content creator from now on claiming its just 'false accusations' and people falling for it because their favourite Minecraft YouTube insisted it was an epidemic. I am NOT keen for discussions of victims and rape culture to be dominated by this shit and for victims to continue to be silenced and disbelieved. I think you have to be very, very fucking careful when talking about 'false allegations' and I do not think Dream of all people is remotely capable of giving this the nuance it needs. This is gonna be so fucking unbearable in the future to deal with and every single fandom will latch onto this to brush off potential red flags, I guarantee.

#dream #dreamwastaken #dream stans #dream situation #there I'm done #I don't know anything more on his situation so I'm hesitant to give my takes on that but regardless this video was pretty bad in places

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ladymarycrawley · 11 months

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Always by your side - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Request: Either for mason or Trent but then getting upset over their recent form and comments online and the reader comforting them

Warning: none, just some good fluff to cheer this little puppy up

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover

That match seemed to have started in the best of ways with Liverpool leading with two goals scored in the first fifteen minutes of the first half but Real Madrid was able to flip the whole game to their advantage so that they would have the upper hand and beat the home team 5-2.

Needless to say Trent was absolutely devastated by the defeat, as it made it particularly hard to make it onto the next round. He has been going through a lot lately, career-wise, and this was just another thing adding to those that have been happening till that moment.

You knew comforting him would have been really hard but leaving him on his own, replaying in his head all the things he could've done right and dwelling on them, wasn't definitely an option.

You dreaded the moment he would cross the threshold of your house and you found yourself gulping out loud when your eyes caught sight of his figure doing so. His stare was fixed on the ground, holding a grudge that was pretty self explanatory.

"Hey"

He raised his stare only when the loud thud of your front door slamming shut and met your eyes, a veil of sadness covering them.

"Hey"

Trent almost threw his backpack on the wooden floor and lazily dragged his weary body towards you, to get that much needed hug from his favourite person that he knew would have been there waiting for him no matter what.

"Come here" You muttered against his temple, before pressing a kiss there.

The only things that could have made him feel better were, apart from a good cuddling session, some junk food paired with one of his comfort films he would have watched over and over again.

“We can-”

“I just need some alone time”

Well, you thought he would have loved to spend some time with you but you weren’t that sure after that brutal answer that resonated in the living room.

His answer instilled in you a sense of disbelief, as the option of him wanting and needing to have some time just for himself, to analyze the great loss his team just suffered, wasn’t acceptable. But you knew a core concept to every human relationship is respect so the only thing you could really do was accept his will and step aside.

“Uhm yeah, okay. I see” You stepped back from his body, as he already moved his arms away from your body, to leave him the space he needed.

He thanked you silently, with a half smile gracing his plumpy lips and walked the stairs that would lead him to your shared bedroom lazily.

You let out a nervous sigh as the sound of your bedroom door closing hit your ears, giving your brain the signal to start thinking about something that could have made your boyfriend happy for real.

A couple of hours passed since he went upstairs as it got really late and your eyes were getting heavy with sleep. The last thing you wanted was disturbing him but your body was really asking for some rest and you needed your soft bed to lie on.

The image of him dozing off, his quiet snores filling the room made you smile, sincerely happy to see him in a more serene state than the one he arrived home in.

You crawled on your side of the bed, wrapping your arms around his waist and hid your face in the crook of his neck, fully ready to close your eyes too now.

The one of you to usually play the big spoon would be Trent but that night you had to change your roles as he was really in need to be cuddled so you had to hand him over the little spoon title, for that night at least.

You soon joined him in the world of dreams, hoping he could have found some solace there.

When you opened your eyes in the middle of the night because your arms were starting to ache due to your position, you saw you weren’t the only one awake. The sight of him staring at the ceiling caught you and you didn’t know how to react: was it something you should have gotten worried about? Better to ignore it? Or run to him and tell him you would have gone on loving him no matter what?

“They hate me”

Well, the fact he spoke first made the start of your interaction easier.

“What?” You sat up as sleep was still deep in your body and and your mind, not fully realising what your boyfriend was saying.

“Fans, people that should be cheering on us when we’re playing”

Another sigh left your lips.

“Trent I-”

“I’m not at the height of the team I’m playing in”

You tried to suppress a yawn while trying to brush some sleep off your eyes to try to focus on what he was saying.

“Don’t be ridiculous”

“I’m serious, they keep criticising me every damn week and I’ve had enough. Do you read what they write about me?” He got seated too, as he did every time he got worked up over something.

“You shouldn’t read those comments, Trent”

“Yeah but when nearly everyone says something bad about you you start questioning yourself, I suppose”

“You really care that much about what a couple of frustrated supporters have to say about you? You’re better than that”

“I don’t know at this point”

You couldn’t accept seeing him in that state, it really broke your heart and if that would have made him feel better you would have gone and fought every single dickhead talking shit about him.

You took his face in your hands to look right into his beautiful, big brown chocolate eyes and lean your forehead against his, sighing.

“Don’t let those people make you doubt yourself, you’re capable of everything and I have faith in you”

Trent sweetly clenched his fingers around your wrist to take your palm away from his face to place a kiss on the back of it.

“I love you”

“I love you more. It breaks my heart seeing you like this. I know it’s been a hard loss but a bad game doesn’t mean a bad career”

“Yeah…”

“Give me one of those smiles I love”

Even if the room was dimly lit just by the bedside lamp on his side of the bed, you could clearly see the bright pink shade his cheeks took.

“I won’t go to sleep without a smile from you, I’m telling you”

A shy smile appeared on his lips as you giggled and brought your hand to the back of his neck to scratch it.

“Now we can go back to sleep”

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Of course you can…but only for tonight!” You jokingly warned him as you laid back on your mattress as he scoffed, playfully tickling your sides.

After a moment of great sadness and despair it usually comes one filled with as much happiness as the suffering experienced before. The exact moment when it happened was the day Liverpool played against Manchester United on a chilly Sunday afternoon: the scousers beat the devils 7-0 and needless to say Trent was beaming. He took you in his arms as soon as he saw you while making his way in the tunnel.

“See? What did I tell you?” You contentedly said in his ear.

“Thanks” He smiled, a heartfelt one this time, one that could have lit up the whole Anfield in case of a power outage.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’ll always be here for you because I love you”

It was a vow, to take care of him and make him live the best life possible. A vow for life.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander-arnold #trent alexander arnold fics #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold fluff #liverpool #liverpool fc #lcfc #premier league #premier league imagines #premier league fics #england nt #england nt imagines #england nt fics #football imagines #footie fics #football writing #football fanfictions

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bastet-c-haddock · 8 months

Text

San Angel High School Exchange Group!

For the Lunaverse AU

I'm still figuring out how can I adapt the stories to a modern setting, since Maya and the Three and The Book of Life happen on two (mexican inspired) different ages: The Prehispanic Era (or something similar since we see dead Conquistador's on Mictlan's army) and the Post-Revolutionary Era (1920 - 1930). So here are some of my ideas:

San Angel would be in Puebla, which is a state close to the capital of Mexico. Even though the original San Angel is structured to be close to what Mexico City looked like once, Teca is a much more faithful portrait of such thing.

Given this info, they'll be atending San Angel High School as seniors. The three of them are 18 years old, so this year at Arcadia will be their last year before going to college.

Their story together doesn't change much. They're childhood friends, Maria then is sent to study aboard and they reunite at High School, where fantastical shenaenigans ensue, as well as some teenage romance drama.

By "Fantastical Shenaenigans" I mean: Chacal and the Bandits are a gang feared in San Angel because it is said they have (or had) a deal with the Divine Death (Santa Muerte) dus, giving them habilities and strength beyond any other gang. The School becomes the battleground for the final fight, instead of the church, and because of San Angel's victory, Xibalba and La Muerte allowed the spirits of everyone's loved ones to walk around town in the Day of the Dead. Obviously, this whole ordeal got documented on the news, reaching Uhl and, eventually, Strickler.

The truth about Chacal's gang is pretty much like the movie portrays it: Chacal once had a deal with Xibalba, who gave him the Medal of Everlasting Life. Chacal abused this power until he faced Captain Mondragon of the San Angel Revolutionary Front (Mexico's police rarely fights against Gangs) when he lost the Medal but took down most of the Front, only leaving some cowards and General Posada, the leader of the Front, alive. Of couse, the power of Chacal's army was too much to deny, so it instilled fear in the town, that's why nobody offered themselves to the Front.

Joaquin was taken under the wing of the Nuns of San Angel until General Posada adopts him. (Mind you, the nuns here in Mexico are known not only for their Eggnog, but depending on the region, they make cookies and other sweet treats, so I'm a 100% sure Joaquin knows how to cook and he's a traditional pastry chef in his free time. FIGHT ME! JIM AND HIM WOULD BE COOKING WHILE THE BOYS REHEARSE AND THE GIRLS SPARR!)

La Muerte and Xibalba are the principal and vice-principal of San Angel High School, and due to the magical situation the kids have experienced, they made a deal with Strickler at Arcadia Oaks for them both, as well as Teca Institute, to have a year long exchange each year. The purpose of this exchange is so the teens have more people to relate to when they speak of supernatural phemomenons, and given these three schools went through the ringer, sealing the deal was fairly easy.

So...what do you think?

FOR MORE LUNAVERSE, CHECK:

What started it all...

Excheangable Roles depending on the song.

Teca Institute's Exchange Group

Mystical Principals

How the story goes...

#fanart #art #digital #dreamworks #netflix #tales of arcadia #fandoms: the book of life #book of life #the book of life #joaquin mondragon #manolo sanchez #maria posada #LunaverseAU

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nicohischierz · 1 year

Text

question...?: nico hischier

you were the golden girl of the team. everyone thought the devils were crazy for drafting a women so high but you proved all of the wrong. you were taken under the wing of your captain, nico hischier.

in your rookie year, you stayed with him in his apartment. the wives and girlfriends on the team doted on you every second they could, bring you food and taking you out on girls day trips whenever they could.

throughout the year you and nico had fallen into a simple routine. when the two of you reached the confides of your apartment there would be no talk of hockey, unless it was important. both of you would celebrate whatever event the other celebrated as well and the christmas tree always went up after thanksgiving.

to nico you made his days brighter, your smile brightened up a room and your laugh was instilled in his brain. and you looked at nico as if he hung the stars and the moon. his eyes always in your mind and his voice playing on a loop.

even after your rookie year, you and nico decided to continue living together. he had put your name on the deed and you helped pay for rent. even thought he told you not to worry.

but despite all the rumours, yours and nico’s relationship was purely innocent.

that was until the devils halloween party.

nico, jack, john and mickey had all dressed up as security guards. they had invited you to join their costume but you declined. instead you had been asked by some of the girlfriends to join them in dressing up as winx characters.

it was night nico and you decided to act on the feelings that dwelled deep inside of you. you would blame it on the alcohol as you danced with the captain all night long, sharing intimate touches here and there.

it wasn’t until nico pulled you in by your waist did something happen. nico tilted his head down to you as he slowly lifted your chin. he searched your eyes for any signs that you wanted out but when you nodded he slowly placed his lips on yours.

“finally!” jack exclaimed grabbing the attention for everyone else as they then celebrated you and nico making a move on each other.

that night you and nico spent every moment entangled with each other. nico explored every inch of your body, praising your body any chance he could. you laid on his chest tracing the tattoo on his left forearm before memorising his face.

you had thought that what happened between the two of you wouldn’t make things weird. that maybe the two of you could build an actual relationship together.

but instead when you woke up, nico was out of the apartment. he only arrived once you were in bed and the next morning you caught him just as he was leaving again.

nico spent the days after your night together with jonas and erik. the two sat and listened as nico explained how the two of you couldn’t be in a relationship as it would ruin your career and as captain he has to put the teams needs before his own.

you hated how some of the guys were oblivious to the awkward tension between you and nico as they chirped the two of you about your relationship.

it was now march and the devils had new players in curtis lazar and timo meier. timo was well aware of the situation as he had been debriefed by his fellow swiss friends.

nate had been introducing the two new players to the dynamic of the team and commented “and that’s y/n. she’s our best player and cap’s favourite,” he added a wink to the last statement.

whilst the comment was harmless, you had tears welling up in yours eyes as you thought about how nico had told you he was going to stay with jesper or jonas for a little while.

that was in october.

nico ignored the comment until you got up, plastered a fake smile on your face and excused yourself to the bathroom. it was then that timo mentioned how your eyes were watering as you left. whilst you were gone nico had made the boys stop with the comments unless they wanted additional skates.

a week later the team was on a road trip and after one of the games nico made his way to your hotel room. when you answered the door nico noticed how your eyes were red and your hair was messy.

“y/n,” he whispered before pulling you into his arms.

however, you pulled away from him quickly. you weren’t going to fall for his charm. “can I ask you a question?” your voice was barely audible but nico heard you nonetheless and he nodded.

“did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room and every single one of your friends was making fun of you, but 15 seconds later they were clapping too?” you asked rhetorically.

nico just nodded.

“then what did you do?” nico stayed quiet as you continued.

“did you leave her house in the middle of the night?” “did you wish you'd put up more of a fight?” “do you wish you could still touch ...her?”

“It's just a question” you whispered the last part.

but nico stayed quiet. he didn’t know how to respond, discomfort evident in his eyes but you ignored it. every second he would open his mouth and close it again like a fish but nothing ever came out.

“what changed nico. why after months of ignoring me are you showing up at my hotel room acting all sympathetic?” you asked, your voice rising slightly.

in nico’s mind he recalled when he came to the apartment to get something he had left. when he opened the door he was met with your laughter as one of your old teammates were in town. jealousy filled his body as he watched you laugh and dance around with the guy, completely ignoring his presence. as if he hadn’t been doing the same with you.

nico reached for one of the bottle’s of alcohol in your room as he poured two glasses. one for him and one for you. he knew it was going to be a long night. the captain was quiet as you ranted about how you felt.

and as the two of you two of you consumed drink after drink nico grew the confidence to explain why he left. he explained how this would look bad for your career as people would speculate the only reason you were on the team was because of nico.

“what about the girl? the one you posted on your story?” you asked, breaking nico’s rant. it was well known that nico hated using social media so when the purple ring appeared and a photo of a women appeared your heart dropped.

you were playing with the hem of your sweater, avoiding eye contact with your captain. nico pulled your fingers away from your sweater and intertwined your fingers “are you talking about the picture of my sister?” he asked, a slight tease in his tone.

heat rushed to your cheeks. nico chuckled, the sound sending butterflies to your stomach. and again like the first night, nico lowered his head to meet yours and slowly lifted your chin.

#nico hischier imagine #nicohischierz writes #nico hischier x player!reader

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