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nemo-writes · 1 month ago

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⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; going back to the coven is anything but comforting. meanwhile, the pack finally face the truth, consumed by shame and grief as they finally grasp the depth of their betrayal—and what it’s cost them.

⚠️ warnings; none

★ previous ; next

☆ story masterlist

The trip home stretched endlessly, the hum of magic-infused machinery barely masking the heavy silence that filled the car. You sat in the back seat next to your Mother, her gaze remained fixed out the window, unyielding and distant, while Cath Palug purred softly in her lap, seemingly impervious to the tension.

Up front, König drove in complete silence, his focus locked on the road. His stillness was matched by Sybil, who had climbed into the back with you, pressing herself against your side. Her warmth and steady breaths anchored you.

The landscape shifted as the car veered off the main road, winding deeper into the countryside. The town near the coven came into view, a picture of quiet prosperity nestled among the trees. Its flourishing streets and bustling community reflected your Mother’s fierce protection and the coven’s watchful eye. People paused as the sleek black car passed, bowing deeply or offering respectful nods. Despite your Mother’s cold and exacting nature, her loyalty and strength ensured the people's safety and growth.

The car rolled through the wrought iron gates of the estate, the sprawling grounds of the coven’s domain stretching out before you. The old English-style mansion rose ahead, a commanding presence surrounded by lush gardens and shadowed paths. Across the grounds, women in training moved purposefully, their whispered conversations halting when they caught sight of the car. They too bowed deeply, their expressions a mix of admiration and caution. Others, bolder, whispered amongst themselves, their gazes darting away when you glanced toward them through the window.

As the car slowed to a stop, your other mother emerged from the grand entrance, her wheelchair gliding forward with its graceful, hand-like appendages navigating the uneven stones effortlessly. Horangi walked steadily behind her, his presence as sharp and watchful as ever. At her side, her sleek, pitch-black Borzoi, Barghest, padded with a measured elegance.

Your Mom’s face lit up at the sight of you, though her eyes quickly darted to Sybil’s slight limp and the exhaustion etched into your features. Concern softened her expression, and her lips parted to speak, but her gaze shifted to your Mother first. She extended a hand, and your Mother leaned down, placing a tender kiss on her lips.

“I missed you,” your Mom murmured softly, her hand lingering on your Mother’s cheek.

Your Mother, though ever composed and aloof, allowed the faintest softening of her features. “As did I,” she replied, her voice low and steady.

Their connection, brief but undeniable, reminded you of the rare moments when their love shone through the icy expectations that so often consumed your Mother.

Turning her attention back to you, your Mom’s warm expression returned, though concern shadowed her gaze. “You look dreadful,” she said gently, her tone laced with worry. Her eyes flicking down to Sybil. “Not just tired. Injured. Both of you.”

Barghest tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing as she approached Sybil. There was a moment of stillness, a silent assessment passing between the two dogs. Then, the larger Borzoi lowered her head, greeting Sybil like a mother would her pup. Sybil, though hesitant at first, leaned into the touch, her tail giving a faint, tentative wag.

Your Mother remained silent, her cool poise unshaken, though you caught the faintest flicker of tension in her jaw—a rare tell. Without a word, she turned sharply on her heel, her movements precise and deliberate as if to shield any hint of unease. Cath Palug, ever her shadow, padded gracefully beside her, the flick of her tail echoed the unspoken dismissal left behind.

Your Mom sighed, shaking her head gently. “Inside. Now,” she said, her tone firm but kind.

König stepped out of the car without a word, his quiet efficiency undisturbed as he moved to the trunk. “I’ll handle everything,” he said, his voice low and steady. It was both a reassurance and a dismissal, leaving no room for argument as he began gathering your things.

Too drained to muster much else, you nodded faintly and followed your Mom’s gesture toward the house. Her wheelchair, its enchanted appendages moving with fluid precision, moved alongside you, the faint whir of magic lacing the air. Sybil kept close, her steps tentative as she walked beside you.

The familiar halls of the mansion unfolded around you, the heavy drapes and intricate carvings exuding an air of both history and expectation. The scent of aged wood and faint herbs lingered, familiar and oppressive.

In the sunlit sitting room, your Mom gestured for you to sit. “Horangi,” she said, her voice firm, “fetch tea and something to eat. They’ve been through enough already.”

Horangi hesitated for the briefest moment, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he turned on his heel and disappeared toward the kitchen without a word.

As you sank into the plush chair she indicated, Sybil curled at your feet, her head resting on your ankle. Barghest lingered near the doorway, before settling herself a short distance away, her gaze never straying far.

Your Mom clicked her tongue softly, a mix of concern and affection coloring her voice. “Put your feet up, darling,” she instructed gently, and with a graceful flick of her wrist, an ottoman slid effortlessly into place in front of you, gliding as if carried on an invisible current. “You’ve had a long enough journey, and I’m not having you sit there like some tensed-up statue.”

You hesitated for a moment, but her expectant gaze left no room for argument. Sighing, you shifted slightly and rested your feet on the plush surface, instantly feeling a sense of relief from the aching tension in your legs, especially your ankle. Sybil lifted her head slightly, her gaze flicking to your Mom with quiet, watchful curiosity.

“Good,” your Mom said, her tone softening further as she leaned forward, her sharp eyes sweeping over you with maternal precision. Her hands moved deftly as she checked your ankle, her touch light yet methodical. When she saw the faint marks left behind by your injuries, her lips pressed into a thin line, but her expression quickly morphed into one of quiet pride.

“These have already begun to heal,” she said, nodding approvingly. “Quick thinking, and your technique was flawless. If nothing else, I can see you took my lessons to heart.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her obvious gloating. “I didn’t have much choice,” you replied lightly. “It was that or worse.”

“That,” she said with a knowing smile, “is exactly what I taught you. You’ve made me proud, my darling. Even your binding work on these wounds is excellent, though it’s high time they were changed.”

With practiced ease, she removed the bandages, inspecting each mark carefully before conjuring a soft glow around her hands. The warmth of her magic soothed the lingering aches as she worked. Fresh bandages appeared at her side, summoned with a flick of her fingers, and she replaced the old ones with an efficiency that spoke to years of experience.

Satisfied with her work, she turned her attention to Sybil, who watched the proceedings with quiet patience. “Now, let’s see about you,” she murmured, crouching slightly as she reached out toward her.

Sybil tilted her head, her large, intelligent eyes locking onto your Mom’s. After a moment’s hesitation, she allowed the inspection. “Remarkable resilience,” she remarked, her voice tinged with admiration. “She’s a true reflection of her master’s skill. But even she needs rest.”

Barghest lifted her head slightly at the remark, her ears flicking forward as if to assess Sybil once more before settling back down again.

With Sybil’s examination complete, your Mom nodded in satisfaction. “There we are. Now, no arguments—you’ll have tea and something to eat before I let you do anything else.”

As if on cue, Horangi returned, carrying a tray laden with steaming tea, biscuits, and small plates of fruit. His expression was as cool as he set it down on the low table before you. “Tea,” he announced curtly.

“Thank you, Horangi,” your Mom said warmly, her tone cutting through his frostiness like sunlight through mist. “We’ll manage from here.”

You poured yourself a cup, the warm aroma calming your frayed nerves as you leaned back into the chair. Sybil sniffed at the tray, her nose twitching curiously as you passed her a small piece of biscuit. When Horangi offered her another, she snorted, turning her head with a pointedly disdainful flick of her tail.

Your Mom chuckled softly, shaking her head. “She’s as particular as her mistress.”

With the tea and bandages sorted, your Mom clapped her hands, signaling the end of your brief respite. Her gaze softened as it rested on you, though the warmth didn’t mask the firmness in her tone. “That’s enough for now, darling. Go to your room. It’s been prepared and left untouched since the day you left.”

The words landed with an unmistakable weight, unspoken tension crackling faintly in the air between you. For a moment, you considered saying something, but the words died on your tongue. Instead, you gave a curt nod, rising to your feet as Sybil stretched and followed close at your side. Barghest didn't move from her place, but you could feel her watching the two of you go.

The door opened before you could reach it, and there stood König, his towering presence filling the doorway. His gaze immediately dropped to you, scanning your face for any sign of distress . Still, he said nothing, but his intent was clear as he stepped aside, waiting to escort you.

“König,” you started, exhaling sharply, “I don’t need—”

“Upstairs,” he interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “Your room.”

You frowned but knew better than to argue further. He didn’t push; he simply waited, his quiet resolve enough to make you give in with a sigh. His hand hovered near your lower back, not touching but close enough to guide you as you left the sitting room.

The climb up the grand staircase was heavier than it should have been. As you ascended, the apprentices of the coven—a mix of young women in training and those tending to the estate—moved about their tasks. Some bowed their heads respectfully, their gazes averted as they murmured greetings. Others, less acquainted with you, whispered amongst themselves, their curiosity poorly hidden.

“Is that her?” one murmured, her voice barely audible but sharp enough to reach your ears. “The young lady who ran away?”

“She is,” another replied, her tone hushed with a mix of awe and skepticism. “The heir.”

The words pricked at your composure, but you forced your expression to remain neutral, your stride steady. König, however, shot them a sharp glance over his shoulder, his narrowed eyes silencing the whispers instantly. His imposing presence alone was enough to scatter their murmurs, leaving only the faint shuffle of their footsteps.

“You didn't have to—” you started again, but König interrupted with a quiet, unyielding tone. “I do.”

When you reached your room, he stepped ahead of you, opening the door with a slow push. The air inside was still and heavy, thick with the weight of time passed. Everything was exactly as you’d left it—the furniture untouched, the books neatly stacked, and the faint scent of your perfume lingering as though it had waited for you to return.

Sybil padded inside first, hopping onto the bed and curling up in its center with an air of practiced ease, as if reclaiming her territory. You lingered in the doorway, your gaze sweeping the room. What should have been comforting instead felt stifling, the untouched state of the room more of a reminder than a reprieve.

König stepped aside to let you enter fully, his eyes following your every movement. “It’s the same,” he said softly, almost as though the words were for himself.

“It’s suffocating,” you admitted quietly, your fingers brushing against the edge of the desk. The room, with all its familiarity, felt like a cage—one you’d thought you’d escaped.

König frowned slightly but said nothing, his expression under his mask unreadable as always. After a moment, he reached down and gently picked up your bag from where he’d set it near the doorway, placing it on the bed beside Sybil.

“I’ll leave you to settle in,” he said finally, his tone softer than before. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you as if searching for something, but then he gave a small nod. “I’ll be close if you need anything.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and left, his heavy steps retreating down the hall. You sighed, closing the door behind him, and leaned back against it. The stillness of the room pressed down on you, and though Sybil’s steady presence was a comfort, the weight of the past seemed to close in.

Crossing to the window, you pushed it open, letting the cool evening air sweep into the room. It helped—if only a little.

As you moved around the room, a soft knock came at the door. Sybil, ever vigilant, lifted her head from her paws, her ears perking. Before you could say anything, the door creaked open, revealing a young girl you didn’t recognize. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, her wide eyes hesitant as she stepped inside, balancing a neatly folded pile of clothes in her arms.

“These are for you,” she said softly, her voice carrying a nervous edge. “Lady Le Fay picked them out herself.”

Your gaze flicked to the clothes—exquisitely made, as always. Their elegance spoke of your Mother’s impeccable standards, her expectations woven into every stitch. You nodded, a simple acknowledgment, and reached for the garments, but the girl hesitated, her hands tightening on the fabric for just a moment before releasing it.

“I’ll help you,” she offered quickly, setting the pile down on the bed. She busied herself with smoothing the wrinkles, her nervous energy filling the room. As she worked, she glanced up at you, her expression uncertain. “I—I know it’s not my place, but… I wanted to say something.”

You arched a brow, motioning for her to continue as you picked up the blouse, the material cool against your fingertips.

“I think… what you did—leaving, I mean—was brave,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her words hung in the air, heavy with risk. “I know most of the others don’t see it that way, but I do.”

Her admission caught you off guard. You paused, meeting her gaze, and she flushed under your scrutiny, her hands wringing nervously. “I just think that… if more of us thought like you, maybe this place wouldn’t feel so—” She hesitated, her words catching on the edge of something unspoken. “So oppressive.”

A bitter smile tugged at your lips, though you tried to suppress it. “Oppressive,” you repeated softly, the word tasting both foreign and familiar on your tongue.

The girl straightened, her expression shifting as if she regretted her honesty. “Not that I’m ungrateful,” she added quickly. “Our lives are good. Better than most. It’s just…” She trailed off, shaking her head as if the rest of the sentence was too dangerous to utter.

You turned toward her fully, folding the blouse carefully in your hands. “You’re not wrong,” you said after a beat. “But you’re also not ready to say it out loud. Not here.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you thought she might argue. Instead, she nodded, a faint look of understanding passing over her features. “Thank you,” she whispered, dipping her head respectfully. “I’ll leave you to finish.”

With that, she slipped out of the room, the door clicking softly behind her. You stared at the closed door for a moment, the tension in your chest knotting tighter. Sybil padded closer, her head nudging your leg.

“Brave,” you murmured to yourself as you began dressing, the word echoing in your mind. It wasn’t how you’d ever seen it. Foolish, reckless, selfish—all those had been easier to accept. But brave? It felt foreign, like a coat you weren’t sure how to wear.

As you fastened the final button, Sybil huffed softly. You knelt to scratch behind her ears, her steady gaze meeting yours as if she, too, approved of the sentiment. “Maybe,” you said quietly, “just maybe.”

. . .

The silence after Alejandro and Rudy’s revelations was suffocating, a tangible weight pressing down on the room. Laswell had gone upstairs to deal with Leah, leaving the pack to sit with the unbearable truth laid out before them.

At the centre of the table sat the nail, sealed in a small glass flask. It was a stark reminder of everything they had ignored, every warning they had missed. Alejandro and Rudy had placed it there when they began their explanation, a silent indictment of the pack’s failure to see what had been festering under their noses.

Price sat at the head of the table, his expression was unreadable, but the lines around his mouth and the set of his jaw betrayed his inner turmoil. He’d barely spoken during their explanation, his hand resting heavily on the table, fingers occasionally twitching as if itching to grip something—anything.

Gaz sat at the table, his face buried in his hands, silent tears slipping through his fingers. His knee, usually bouncing with nervous energy, was still for once, the tension in his body radiating a quiet devastation. The guilt tore through him like claws—how had they let it get this far? How had they hurt you so deeply, so irreparably?

Johnny, unable to bear it, had bolted from the room. His overgrown hair whipped behind him as he fled, his footsteps heavy and uneven. The door slammed somewhere in the distance, and they all knew he was headed back to the woods, a place he’d always gone to hide when the world became too much.

Price’s gaze moved to Ghost, who hadn’t uttered a word since the conversation began. “Simon,” he said, his voice firm but quieter.

Ghost didn’t move. His hands were still planted on the table, his head bowed, his broad shoulders tense. Price’s tone softened, though the weight of his words remained. “You’ve got to say something. Anything.”

Still, he said nothing, his mind an unrelenting whirlwind of fragmented memories, half-formed regrets, and the crushing realisation of what he’d done. He’d been the one who brought Leah into their lives. But worst of all, he’d hurt you. Attacked you and Sybil.

The reality had settled over him like a lead cloak, immobilising him.

Alejandro, standing by the wall with his arms crossed, scoffed. “What’s the point of talking? He knows what he did.” His sharp gaze cut to Price. “But don’t think for a second that any of you are off the hook. You all failed her.”

“Enough,” Price said sharply, his tone commanding. “We know. Don’t you think we bloody know?”

Alejandro smirked coldly, his gaze unwavering. “Do you? Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like it.”

Rudy, standing nearby, placed a calming hand on Alejandro’s arm. “Ale, we’ve said what we came to say. Let them deal with it.”

“Fine,” he muttered, but his eyes burned with disdain as he looked at them.

Gaz swallowed hard, “But who… who did this? Who’s responsible?”

Alejandro shrugged, brow furrowed. “We don’t know exactly, yet at least. Whoever it was, they knew what they were doing.”

Price exhaled heavily, his hand running over his face as if trying to push back the weight of the truth. “You’re saying this was all to isolate her?”

Rudy nodded solemnly. “That’s how these curses work. They isolate, divide, and weaken. She was the target from the start. You? You were just tools. Puppets.”

Alejandro crossed his arms, his gaze hard. “So don’t sit here wallowing in your own self-pity. Whatever guilt you’re feeling, it’s deserved. But the real question is, what are you going to do about it?”

Gaz let out a choked sound. “How… how do we fix this? How do we even begin to fix this?”

Price stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he walked to the window. His broad shoulders were rigid, as he stared out at the darkening horizon. “For now,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute, “we leave her alone. Like I said, we need to fix ourselves first, we have no right to even think about going after her.”

Alejandro and Rudy exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Rudy sighed, his voice quieter but no less resolute. “We’ll keep looking,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the broken pack. “Whoever’s responsible for this won’t get away with it. When we know, we’ll keep you posted.”

Alejandro gave a firm nod, his expression unyielding. “But don’t expect miracles from us,” he added sharply.

They turned toward the door, the weight of their words settling like ash in the room. Rudy paused briefly, glancing back at the pack with a flicker of hesitation. But before they could leave, Ghost finally spoke.

His voice was low, gravelly, like the sound of rocks grinding together. “Is she… okay?”

Alejandro stopped, his hand resting on the doorframe. Rudy looked at him, eyebrows furrowing, but Alejandro didn’t move.

“You should know the answer to that, shouldn’t you?” he said flatly. “You know her best.”

Ghost stayed silent, his head bowing ever so slightly. Deep down, he already knew. The part of him that loved you with every fiber of his being—despite feeling unworthy of it—knew that you were okay, wherever you were. But that knowledge didn’t ease the hollow ache inside him.

With that, the front door closed with a heavy thud, leaving the pack alone once again.

Price stood at the window, unmoving, the faint glow of his nth cigar's ember casting a dim light in the darkening room. His shoulders were tense, the weight of his failures settling heavily on him, but his voice was steady when he finally spoke.

“Get it together,” he said, his words cutting through the silence like a knife. “We’ve all failed her. But if she’s still out there, we owe it to her to fix this.”

Ghost remained at the table, his eyes fixed on the cursed nail. The silence that followed was more damning than anything that had been said.

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averycutesalamander · 2 months ago

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finished the 2.6 story and promptly blacked out and wrote this in a feverish haze. minor gore warning (it's really mild but still). also this is up on ao3 if that's your preference. comments always appreciated but not obligated 💕 xoxo love yall

Boothill tries not to sleep very often.

He doesn't particularly need to, either; he can get away with around a dozen hours every week if he pushes himself – which he often does. The only time he sleeps with any consistency is when he's with you, in the interim between his long journeys away.

He doesn't often have pleasant dreams, but when he does, it's always when he's sleeping by your side. His particular favorite is an impossibility, as dreams so often are.

He's back on Aeragan-Epharshel, playing with Clementine. She's a bit older, now – around ten. She's still just as sunny as she always was – though he hasn't quite managed to get her to stop tugging on his hair; perhaps he should be content with her progress so far, considering that she never pulls hard anymore. He's outside with her on a blessedly warm fall day, painting stones with the pigments you made by hand; the holidays are a few months off, and Clementine wants to paint customized stones for everyone she can think of, aunts and uncles included. (She told him very decisively that she'd make his rock on her own. It has to be a surprise, obviously.) He'd argue that her painting is far better than his, but he still makes one for you – a messy collage of your favorite colors on a shiny black stone, forming a smeared mimicry of the night sky.

When she tires of that, he hauls her up onto his shoulders and heads inside to badger you, disturbing your reading. You banter; you chat; you help Clem clean up, then dot her little forehead with kisses until she laughs – that sweet, warm laugh, like the chime of a bell. After that, he helps you out with dinner, the aroma of casserole filling the entire house. Clem lingers by your feet, clinging to your pants as you chop vegetables plucked from the garden that morning. She looks up at you with those dewy doe eyes, pouting dramatically until you relent and give her small chunks of veggies; you're so used to her habit of begging like a dog for scraps that you bring out a little more vegetables than you need every time. He watches on with a tender, lovestruck smile, perfectly content.

When he woke up from that dream, it was to the silence of your bedroom, his eyes burning and his chest aching something fierce. He looked down at your sleeping form sprawled over his body, your limbs tangled and your face soft with sleep. With his hands shaking slightly, he shifted to hold you just a little tighter against him, savoring your weight, your warmth, your smell.

That dream will never be a reality, but at least he can fulfill some morsel of it.

It's rare for him to be so fortunate as to have sweet, peaceful dreams like that one – despite the irreconcilable yearning they're tainted with. Most dreams – such as the one he's having right now – are not so pleasant.

Smoke clogs the air, so thick that it burns his lungs. Flames press in on all sides, licking at his heels, searing his skin. The smell of death, of burnt hair and flesh, of ash and misery, is so oppressive that he feels like he's suffocating under the weight. A cacophony of screaming echoes from all around him, cannon fire bursting in his eardrums, but through the noise, he hears it – the shrieking wail of a child in pain, piercing straight through his heart.

He's running, clamoring through the fire, stumbling over the rubble of destroyed homes and corpses whose roasted, blistering hands grasp uselessly at his ankles, their croaking voices begging him for help; his instincts urge him to obey, to haul them out of the fire and carry them to safety, to tend to the wounds of his family – but he knows in his heart that there's no use. There is no safety here, nowhere to bring them, no way to treat burns so fierce that they've bared bone and sinew.

But there's a dash of hope in his heart, because that girl's crying is so clear, so crisp – he must be close. Yet no matter which way he turns, no matter how fast he runs, no matter how far he sprints into the carnage, he can't find her. Her cries turn sharper, more anguished; she sobs his name, pleading, begging, but her voice only seems to be getting further away. His chest heaves, his tears evaporating from his eyes before they can spill, his flesh melting from his bones in a slurry of fat and muscle. Why can't he find her? Where is she? Why did it come to this? Why, why, why–

“It's okay, bee.”

A soft voice echoes in the back of his head, nearly muffled by the deafening noise battering him from all sides. He collapses to his knees, completely spent, his whole body disintegrating into ash. He's burning, he's burning, but so is Clem – he can hear her screaming, louder and louder, piercing clean through his skull. He has to find her, he has to get up, he has to–

“Wake up, honey. It's okay. I've got you.”

The voice is a little louder now, and it feels like his body cools slightly, like the flames have been slightly dampened – but a moment later, they roar back to life with a vengeance. This can't be happening; this can't be real. He can't–

“Wake up.”

He jerks awake with a gasp, his whole body shaking like a leaf. He can hear your voice in his ear, your arms wrapped tight around him, his head nestled against your chest as you slowly rock him back and forth. He's already clinging to you, arms locked around your waist, but he pulls you in even tighter, desperate for an anchor. His breathing skips as he sobs, not a tear to be found, his body aching with phantom pain.

It takes a few moments for him to even process your words. “You're alright,” you murmur softly, stroking tenderly through his hair, your other hand tracing soothing circles into his shoulder. “Shh, shh. It's okay.”

Mindlessly, stupidly, he blubbers your name, nearly incomprehensible in his distress.

“I'm right here, baby. I've got you.” You tighten your hold slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Breathe with me, sunshine. Can you do that?”

You take a deep, slow breath, your heart beating steadily in his ear. On instinct, he mimics you, his lungs stuttering in his chest. The air of your exhale tickles his hair, and his own warms your skin, taking with it a bit of his tension. Inhale, exhale; slowly, his hydraulics begin to relax. Inhale, exhale; his hands grow a bit steadier, his palms flattening against your back. Inhale, exhale; he swallows heavily, the fear bleeding out of his veins.

The two of you stay like that for some time, your breathing keeping him grounded, letting him clear his mind. “I'm… I'm sorry,” he rasps, so soft that it's nearly muffled by your skin.

You shush him softly. “Nothing to be sorry about, honeybee.”

He doesn't even have the energy to rebuke you; as the terror flees his body, exhaustion rushes in to fill the gaps. After a moment, he murmurs, “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'm okay.”

He can practically feel the gentle, concerned furrow of your brow. “Are you sure? I don't mind staying up to talk with you, if that'll make it easier.”

He shakes his head, burrowing a bit further into your chest. “You're helpin’ just by bein' here, honey.” Slowly, he begins to rub circles into your back, just as you're doing to him. “This is just fine.”

He can sense your hesitation, can hear it in the beat of your heart. He lifts his head to kiss your collarbones, shamelessly savoring the scent of your skin.

“I'm okay,” he whispers. “Just get some rest for me, sugar.”

You're silent for a beat before finally sighing, your body relaxing against him. “If you say so.” You lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Promise you'll wake me up if you want company, alright?”

He smiles, a tender, shaky little thing, then presses his ear to your chest. “Sure thing, pumpkin.”

Thankfully, it doesn't take too long for you to drift back into a light sleep, your breathing deepening, your heart slowing next to his ear. Your natural rhythm soothes him so efficiently that he might've fallen back asleep if he weren't actively trying to stay awake. He distracts himself by stewing over your plans for tomorrow, how he'll spend his precious time with you.

He'll make you breakfast in the morning, he decides – though he'll have to be careful not to disturb you. He always loves watching you wake up, and he's sure it'll be even better if it's to a fresh plate of food.

Yeah, he thinks, his lip quirking fondly as he nuzzles into you a bit more firmly. That'll be good.

#sal.txt #boothill x reader #reader insert #x reader #gn reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #boothill #sal.sdfb

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oneforthemunny · 7 months ago

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Can you do more mafia!eddie and if it’s not asking to much pregnant!reader??

ofc! here's a little blurb <3 slight smut at the end. pregnant!reader x mafia!eddie so some mafia type themes but nothing graphic. mainly fulff!

Eddie huffed, a ringed hand grabbing at his curls, buzzing with adrenaline filled nerves. His voice was beginning to shake from the tightness in his throat with every shout of your name, echoing off the walls without a response.

Panicked thoughts flashed through his mind at rapid speed, sickening what-ifs and other horrific scenarios conspired by his own mind. The damning thoughts overpowered the rational, jumping to every possible worst case scenario about what could have happened to you, to the baby, the dogs that were no where to be found as well.

Eddie was ready to give up, ready to call Gareth, command a search, a war if he had to. Frantic steps towards the phone, his hands shook when he picked up the phone, Eddie was halfway through jamming Gareth's number in when he heard a bark.

Muffled, but loud and defilingly crisp enough to know it was Diablo's. Letting the phone fall, Eddie jogged towards the back door, pulling it open with such a force the hinges groaned. His free hand on his hip, pulling his gun out, flicking the safety off in a fluid motion that was muscle memory at this point.

His eyes scanned the garden, over the pool, towards the spacious back yard, lowering his gun at the sight. The boys running around, yanking and tugging their toy, running beside you to give you their toy for you to run while you walked- marched, was more like it. Arms pumping, heavy, purposeful steps up and down the length of the backyard, not slowing to toss the toy for them to fetch.

Eddie pressed his lips together, shoving the gun back in his holster. "Baby," Eddie called, trying to keep his voice light, a coo. You were sensitive these days, the slightest quip in his tone had you in tears.

You turned, continuing your walk up the grass, knees high with every step, nearly touching your swollen stomach. You were ready to pop, baby Bea due any day now- past due, really. There were talks of a C-Section, of inducing labor if she didn't come on her own.

"Baby," He tried again, walking to meet you. The sun was starting to set, but the heat hadn't eased up.

"What're you doing, sweetheart?" Eddie's voice was still tight, a forced coo to try and mask his heart that was still climbing back to a normal beat.

Vecna jumped up, letting you grab the rope toy, tossing it and sending them all running after it. "Walking." You huffed, a little out of breath from the pace. It was harder now, with a giant baby bump in your way.

Eddie swallowed a groan, taking a deep breath before jogging besides you. "Did you not hear me yelling? I was looking for you. I didn't know you went outside-"

"-I can't stay inside all day, every day, Eddie." You snapped defensively, continuing your stride, trying to ignore the burning in your back and calves. "I needed some fresh air."

Eddie bit back a huffy comment that your doctor told you to take it easy, knowing it would not be received well. Instead, he grabbed the toy from Lucifer when he brought it, flinging it far this time, trying to keep up with you in his Armani shoes.

"I know, I just couldn't find you." Eddie said, a hand reaching out to your lower back out of near instinct. "I just got worried when I couldn't find you."

You seemed to like that answer, eyes flashing and gleaming sweetly at him. A mood swing, there had never been a truer word, Eddie decided.

"I was just out here, baby." You cooed, slowing your pace, chest heaving a little, winded.

"I see that." Eddie looked at you carefully. "What are you doing? It's a little hot. Do you have a water?" He turned scanning for a cup, a water bottle, anything.

"I read that walking can get your water to break." You were nearly shuffling, eyes closed, letting your heart beat settle. You paused, looking down between your feet for anything, any sign that it had broken. "I don't think it worked." You frowned.

"She'll come when she's ready, honey." Eddie cooed, rubbing a hand on your back gently, guiding you towards the patio, desperate to get you to sit down. "You don't need to overwork yourself. It'll happen when it does."

"I'm not overworking myself." You snap, huffing with an eye roll that had Eddie flinching. Still, you let him guide you to the small patio table, settling into the cushioned chair.

"I just want her to come already." You muttered, running a hand over your swollen bump. "It feels like it's taking forever. Like she's never going to get out."

"She'll come when she's ready." Eddie snatched the water bottle of the stairs, putting it in front of you.

"She'll be here soon, sweetheart. Just don't-don't stress about it." Eddie hesitated, watching you carefully.

Your lips twitch in a snarl before bringing the bottle to your lips. Him telling you not to stress when that was quite literally all he had done felt hypocritical, but you decided against telling him that, right now, anyways.

"Maybe I should try the workout tape again." You hummed, spinning the water bottle around on the table lightly. "Or maybe you should just fuck me like the doctor said." You said bluntly.

Eddie blushed, lips twitching in a grin at your boldness. "That is not what he said."

"He said penetration." You glared at Eddie.

"He also said it could hurt you." Eddie countered. "That you're-you're softening down there or whatever-"

You rolled your eyes, scoffing loudly. "I mean, you can't fuck me mean, but you could be gentle and it would be fine." You glared at him for a moment. "But you won't because you think I'm disgusting right now."

"I do not-"

"-Clearly you do." You huffed, lip wobbling, a burning forming in your chest and throat with tears. "You won't even fuck me when the doctor is telling you to."

Eddie fought an eye roll, standing to pull you into him. Your head buried into his midsection, sniffly and furious, but allowing his affectionate touch. Another swing.

"I do not think you're hideous. I have never, not once in my life thought you were hideous, so I don't want to hear you say that anymore." Eddie's tone clipped with authority, your thighs pressing together at the sound. You'd missed it, missed him talking like this.

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"-You won't-"

"-I don't want to." Eddie lifted his voice over yours, pulling back, a hand cupping your chin to bring your gaze to him. "So you have to let me know if it's hurting you. Anything."

Damn those pregnancy books. Of course he'd read them cover to cover, front to back, taking in every bit of information he could. It was endearing, really, until times like this when he handled you like you were glass.

"I will." You nodded, holding his gaze with yours. "I promise."

Eddie relented. Of course he did. Truthfully, he'd been in agony for the past few weeks, willing himself not to fuck you in fear of hurting you and the baby. The oral was good, great even, but just not as good as the real thing.

So Eddie willed himself still, hands gripping your hips, trying to support you while fighting the blinding urge to slam you on his length, when you sunk down on his cock at a painfully slow pace.

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antikate · 2 months ago

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I think I’m still, somehow, after so many years on earth? Just so terribly naive about what people want.

I know what I want, and I think it seems very reasonable and achievable? I want is a safe future for my kids (stable climate, reproductive rights, health care, access to education, safety from violence)

I want to walk my dog and tend to my garden and do my crafts and write my silly little stories. I want friends and book clubs and bicycle paths and movies and a just this small life of connection and joy

And I want this for everyone else too like I want the weird old guy who lives on my street and who apparently hates me to also have access to healthcare when he needs it. I want the immigrant families at my kids’ school to have access to that school and for it to be good!I want libraries and pride parades and community gardens

… and instead what other people really seem to want is to punish other people. They want violence and the bootheel and to rid life of variance and colour. They want repression and domination

Is it because eggs cost more or they saw a trans person once? Is it because there are black people on tv now? I don’t know. I don’t know anything

I want schools and healthcare clinics and busses and parks. I want everyone in the world to go to sleep at night without worrying their children will die in the dark from falling bombs

And more and more I realise that its a fantasy that very few other people actually share

#dark days

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soapoet · 1 year ago

Text

What are you like as a spouse?

requested by anon.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: Stay with me by Anson Seabra

As a spouse you are a little territorial. You trust your partner, but everybody else is under your careful scrutiny. You very easily pinpoint weeds in your garden, and pull them out root and stem swiftly. Your spouse can rely on you to be on the look out for all sorts of dangers, big or small. Security is of great importance to you, both regarding your relationship and your loved ones, and yourself. Perhaps less so yourself, as you seem to have an instinct to protect which sometimes overrules your own safety. You could relate to the knight archetype to some extent, the concept of serving and protecting. There is an intensity to your love that is like a fine wine, and simply intoxicating to your partner. You're akin a guard dog; out in public you are an intimidating presence ready to bark and bite should need arise, but behind closed doors your service is paid for in tender love and care and you melt when your partner dotes on you. And your spouse adores this duality in you, dominance and submission merged into one.

You're observant, and pay careful attention to your partner's wants and needs, and this lends itself to both an intuitive understanding and awareness of your partner's feelings and the shifts that occur, and makes you a great gift-giver too. You're also a great example of the "girlfriend effect" (regardless of gender) because you encourage your partner's authentic self expression and help them daringly try new things, style wise but also in general. It is safe for your partner to take leaps of faith in career and other matters that may come with risks, because you stand watch and are always there to catch them should they fall. It's possible that you're a late bloomer, or have a series of tumultuous relationships before finding your person, which leads you to take things slowly, desire clarity, and develop effective communication skills to avoid misunderstandings with your spouse. You have a deep need for emotional support and reassurance, so your spouse is somebody who you can truly trust and feel the ground sturdy and secure beneath your feet in their presence, and find shelter and comfort in their arms when you need it.

For some, the term spouse is used loosely, as formal marriage may not be of interest to you if you have any qualms regarding tradition, or simply prefer the intimacy of privacy. Some could opt for court house marriage with a lowkey get together with loved ones at a later date, and others none, and simply commit as life partners without legalities or traditions taken into consideration. If marriage does occur, it's likely to happen later once career matters are stable.

If you and your partner have children, you are your child's biggest cheerleader and encourage any interests of theirs, fuel their passions and show up to their activities to support them. Strong likelihood of children who are outcasts of some sort, deemed strange by their peers, bullied, could be neurodivergent, queer, or otherwise experience difficulties growing up, which you are uniquely equipped to handle and care for. Some in this group may simply decide to have no children of their own, or consider fostering as an alternative, but could otherwise deal with children, especially the unfortunate, in their community or on a larger scale in society.

Additional details: oddly specific spotify playlists, swords and daggers, rpgs, tarot, history, psychology, the moon, moths, wolves, pirates, red or purple lips, cherries, citrus fruits, birthday dinner, makeovers (self or room idk??), emails, documents, nintendo, tattoos, kuromi, donuts, fairs or theme parks, escape rooms, the nightmare before christmas, wednesday and the addams family, fate: the winx saga, euphoria, purple, chai, scorpio/aries/aquarius/gemini, saturn/mars/moon/lilith, april/march/november/december.

02.

Shufflemancy: This side of paradise by Coyote theory

As a spouse you are a breeze. A gentle caress of the sea blowing through your spouse's hair on the beach. You're a little bit of an old romantic, and may have an affinity with the classics or period dramas. You enjoy simplicity and peace, breaking bread at the kitchen table and quality time simply spent in the vicinity of your dear. Merely cooking together can be an adventure, as can the clean-up. You're attentive and try to be both a good friend and lover to your spouse. Resting your head on their lap and enjoying the silence, the act of nesting behind closed doors appeals to you, but you're partial to little getaways too just the two of you, slipping away somewhere near or far to see what you may find and get up to.

Physical closeness is important to you, but it is not possessive, suffocating, or clingy, but gentle and warm like a shelter from the storm. Your marriage is airy and light, and even the ceremony that got you to this point may be very cozy and intimate, invites sparce and spaces dimly lit. It's a very solitary life that you lead, with little socialising outside your little bubble. Contact seems restricted to only family and a couple of long-time friends and little else. You could even choose to live in the countryside or farther from the hustle and bustle of lively cities.

Should you have children, you are a very involved parent, as is your spouse. Messes are happy accidents and you emphasise comfort and peace in your child, and encourage them to make good friends, and you may very well come to consider your children's friends bonus children who can trust you as safe adults when they have nowhere else to turn to. Neither of you are very hard on your children, and do not mind if they don't succeed at everything so long as they try and have direction all within themselves. You're forgiving and patient, both with your spouse and children. You would do particularly well raising a child of the opposite sex, masculines doing well at raising feminines and vice versa.

You may take longer to feel ready to date in general, or due to circumstances or personal issues have a delay in romance, but once you do stumble upon love, commitment is sure and stable and long-lasting. Many are likely to marry their first love or first serious partner, and others could experience the classic friends to lovers arc that slowly blossoms but then remains in bloom forever if cared for.

Additional details: paper planes, strategy and simulation games, chess, archeology, history, cartography, geography, museums, genealogy, family events (dinners, birthdays, weddings, baby showers, funerals), babysitting, cats and mice, twitch, youtube, memes, news, acoustic guitar, green, lotus flowers, blankets, sweet tea, conventions, comics, anime, cartoons, arts and crafts, sticks and stones, seaside, countryside, camping, hiking, road signs, numbers, dirt roads, pine trees, virgo/aquarius/cancer/libra, mars/sun/neptune/ascendant, january/march/july/september.

03.

Shufflemancy: Somebody to you by BANNERS

As a spouse you are quite the little ray of sunshine, but also the sudden gust of winds of change. You are collaborative, and may serve as either the artist or the muse. Both, perhaps, as there is inspiration being exchanged between you and your spouse like sparkling water shared between two cups, clear and fizzy, as sharp as it is delightful and refreshing. You're enthusiastic and cheer your spouse on, loud and proud, supporting them in their trials and assure they have your arms to run into when they return with their accolades and treasures. You may easily get flustered, and try to avenge your spouse by attempts to charm and woo them in return, even if just to wipe the smug smile off their face as their bask in the glory of making your little heart flutter.

You may be a little needy, or quick to feel discouraged, but you're just as easily brought back to your feet with kind and reassuring words and helpful hands. You try your best to make yourself useful even in situations that are new to you, especially if your partner could use the help. You're able to laugh at yourself, but also communicate when the stumble actually hurt so that your spouse can kiss it all better. Regardless of your age, you will retain a youthful air about you, which will keep things interesting as you always find new adventures and things to share.

If you have children, you'll let them grow in whichever direction they best find the sun and rain to bloom in their time and their way. You love your freedom, and want to bestow it upon your child too, who will grow up to be very close with you and consider you a great friend and trusted confidante with whom they may share all their joys and sorrows without judgement. Some of you may not have children and instead raise fur babies, travel the world with your spouse, or create an alternative kind of family of misfits and kindred spirits amongst your peers.

You are very bubbly and sociable, and eagerly introduce your partner to your friends and make merry with theirs. You could really rejoice in the merging of your individual friend groups for the sake of building a community to call home. You enjoy exchaning favours, and have the mindset and desire of managing tasks between both you and your spouse and your community so that different strengths get utilised to combat defeat should somebody have to face big challenges they're not equipped to handle. So, though you may be called chaotic from time to time, you're still a good taskmaster and collaborator, who does not keep score, and manage your spouse and groups of people well even though things aren't colour coded and organised from A to Z.

Additional details: daydreaming, dream journals, streaming, paperwork, paint, coffee stains, red and blue, strawberries, avocado, live chat, chopsticks, van or camper or truck, packages, identity crisis, illness/medicine, learning, waiting, theatre, pets, money, siblings or cousins, slurpees, sushi, suburbs, small towns, interviews, phone calls, sneakers, broken windows, kpop and jpop, manga or manhwa, lore, toys, polar bears or bears in general, empty playgrounds, twitter/x, instagram, lost and found, wooden trinkets, herbs. capricorn/sagittarius/leo/pisces, jupiter/venus/uranus/vesta/chiron, march/june/august/october.

04.

Shufflemancy: Dandelions by Ruth B.

As a spouse you seem to be a jack of all trades, the scales of justice perfectly balanced. Your diligence and the ease at which you tackle tasks, the perseverance you show despite life's challenges, and how you always get back up again when you get knocked down, all makes you a wonderful partner. You are goal-oriented, but know when to slow down and relax. You push your partner to chase their dreams, but know not to push too hard and when to offer up comfort and quiet reassurance instead.

You may have a little bit of a saviour complex, as you pride yourself in both your ability to help and your emotional intelligence. You are patient, and know that in life there is no such thing as a one-size-fits-all, and you're uniquely able and willing to find missing pieces of puzzles so that everybody finds what works for them, and will be a healing presence to your spouse especially. Your spouse finds you to be a rock, but let's not kid ourselves and pretend you don't melt like butter when they pull you close and tell you to relax, and lull you to sleep with a heartbeat and fingers running through your hair. Your spouse is well aware of how hard you work and how heavy the burdens on your shoulders sometimes become, and insist that you are no Atlas, at least not in the sanctuary you call home where you may rest and recharge.

Should you have children together, you may settle into traditional or otherwise clearly defined roles and assure neither of you take on too much and both get to be involved in the life of your children to an equal extent. You're likely the problem solver and the one to help with the homework, and deeply encourage active and social pursuits to ensure your children grow up healthy and experience relationships with people of all walks of life. With the combination of you and your spouse, your children are likely to grow up gentle but quick to defend the underdogs and fight injustice. Assuring your children have access to options and opportunities as well as a safety net to fall back on should it be needed is something you will both make sure of. Note that this is the only group I have no alternatives for and sense no absence of children, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ if you really do not want children, take double or triple the precautions.

You may enjoy home improvement or possibly have either you or your spouse working from home. You delegate responsibilities fairly and make consistent efforts to show your spouse your care and affection, especially through acts of service and the kindest of words when they are at their lowest. Though you are responsible and often do things by the book, there is a little streak of mischief and wanderlust that I sense, which keeps things interesting, making you a balance between homebody and explorer. You may have great banter with your spouse and frequently tease each other.

Additional details: car rides, crying, nerves, vhs tapes, siblings, young people, writing and rewriting, praise, headbands, flannels, glasses, family issues, guardian angels, cleaning, mermaids, rodents, deer, letters, arguments, flowers, office (work or the show idk), radio station, static, noise, real estate, architecture, mushrooms, pickles, salads, sleepless nights, muscle pain (or strain), sleepless nights, sleeping on the couch, glasses, hair cuts, lilies and elderflowers, soap, hugs and hand holding, patience, reluctance, overcoming fear, hearing music from another room, virgo/cancer/capricorn/aquarius, pluto/sun/venus/juno/union, june/august/october/november.

05.

Shufflemancy: Slow dancing by Aly & AJ

As a spouse you like to be in charge, or wear the pants, so to speak. Somebody has to tell the waiter your spouse asked for no pickles, right? Though you have a dominant energy about you, you are very nurturing and full of love and care and can be surprisingly sensitive emotionally. You like to stay on top of things and have things to do, places to be, and you could serve as something of a secretary in your relationship. Your spouse can always rely on you to know what to do and to get the Christmas cards sent out on time. You have a taste for the finer things in life and enjoy indulging in these together with your spouse. You likely introduce your spouse to many new things, be it music, literature, politics, foods, or some lifestyle and habits you maintain.

You revel in the quality time spent with your spouse, though you're independent and encouraging of them living their life separate from yours too whilst you engage with your own endeavours. You are secure and loyal, and give your spouse no reason to doubt your commitment and you speak as highly of them as they of you, so shenanigans and misfortunes stay at bay. You may have only few but close friends, but keep them for life and they enjoy the company of your spouse. You may frequently host dinner parties or other intimate get togethers in your home with the few privileged to know the two of you.

As a parent you would raise well-mannered and good children, to whom you would teach many of your own talents and push them to hone and master their own abilities and take both their interests and responsibilities seriously. You have a close bond with children even if you do not have them, which for many may be the case, and you could instead together with your partner be very involved with the children of your friends or family and serve as godparents or the cool aunts/uncles. You may still teach these children valuable lessons and be an important adult figure in their lives, and possibly lend your talents to teach them new skills.

You may also work with your spouse, be it through a mutual or related field, literally sharing the same workplace, or by joining up to start a business together or works as collaborators on separate passion projects. You're highly encouraging of them and push them to pursue their goals and even wildest dreams because with you in their corner there aren't many places in the world they couldn't go.

Additional details: co-op games, cookbooks, bullet journals, weddings, calendars and memos, perfect timing, awkwardness, dogs and canines in general, horses, rapunzel, children, phone calls, electric guitars, drums, men and fathers, streetlights, stalking, power outages, doctor's appointments, pedagogy or social work, education/school, stage fright, long distance travel, reunions, road trips, ice cream, spicy food, alcohol, orange and pink, pearls, grapefruits and blood oranges, hot chocolate, lgbt+, anxiety or depression, archery, sleepovers, libra/taurus/leo/cancer, mars/mercury/pluto/descendant, april/may/october/december.

06.

Shufflemancy: Comethru by Jeremy Zucker

As a spouse you are a natural in many ways, even, or especially if, you worry that you aren't. To your spouse you are a very nurturing and compassionate, gentle lover, who is intuitive and always seems to know the right words that they need to hear or the moment to hug them from behind and press your head against their tense and tired back. You dedicate yourself to being a source of light to your spouse, and tend to be quite romantic, albeit you get shy and blush even decades into the marriage when they return the sentiment. You learn quickly to express boundaries and communicate your needs to your partner if that has been a struggle in your past as they make a big effort to make sure you make your voice heard. You carefully consider their feelings, as they consider yours. You could as a couple have an almost telepathic connection, an inherent understanding and the blue print of each other's soul, knowing each twitch and micro-expression to know when the other requires assistance or wishes to leave a situation, etc.

You may find the role of a homemaker ideal, though you aren't without your own ambitions and occupational ideals. You could for a time be a stay-at-home spouse, or parent, but simultaneously engage with your own projects and end up working from home. You really make home feel like home, and your spouse finds relief and peace every time they return home. You have an eye for aesthetics and a way to make any space feel cozy, inviting, warm, and comfortable. Even though you are more of a homebody and like the solitude, your friends may rejoice in their visits and feel at home in your house and you could occasionally agree to host bigger holidays in your home, because really, nobody does Christmas like you do.

You are very clever and learn quickly, and your curiosity takes you on quite a few adventures in just one afternoon, and you enthusiastically share these wonders with your spouse and coax out their own adventurous and speculative side. You could spend hours talking and never seem to run out of things to speak of, but also find comfort in enjoying the silence. You're affectionate and like to be close to your partner, but eventually slip away as your mind begins to wander and take you in different directions. You have a youthful and ever-curious energy that your spouse delights in.

As a parent you would truly dedicate yourself to parenthood and rejoice in even the little steps and achievements of your little ones. You are doting, but not a doormat and find that your children trust and respect you without being told or taught to. You encourage your children to think for themselves because you value logic as much as feelings. Good reasoning skills and the ability to judge things on a case by case basis is something you will instill in your children. Your children are likely to grow up very independent and just the right balance of kind and clever to be an asset to society. Both you and your spouse share a deep distaste for the state of the world and are dedicated to raising children who know wrong from right and don't blindly follow anyone or anything and have the wires between head and heart connected. You and your spouse may both do a lot to improve your community and work to eventually leave the world better than how you found it.

Additional details: tears, keys, incoming text messages, psychiatry, therapy, home, teaching or writing, good luck, headaches, cramps, horror movies, haunted side of youtube/tiktok, conspiracy theories, stim toys, minecraft, rabbits, birds, cats, hoodies, grey and blue, energy drinks, vitamin water, winning, brownies, pancakes, soup, winnie the pooh, lion king, 2000s cartoons/music, fuzzy socks, beaded curtains or string lights, green or hazel eyes, candles, intuition, dust, sleet or snow, cold/grey/dreary weather, iron and vitamin d deficiency, water colours, astrology, vanilla or coconut scent, bubble baths, gemini/cancer/virgo/scorpio/libra, jupiter/neptune/moon/lunar nodes, february/may/june/october.

#pac reading #love pac #energy reading #intuitive reading #tarot reading #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #love reading #tarotblr #soapy.post

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winniewritesstories · 1 month ago

Text

thinking about....soldier boy (ben) with a doe-coded reader ⋆｡˚୨୧˚｡⋆.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ all sfw | can be read as gn!reader ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ

⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆

⟡ you're a supe with the power to communicate with animals

⟡ you live in the woods near a small rural town, in the new england area. most people leave you alone - your supe powers aren't the most useful for vought. the locals think you're some kind of witch or woodland nymph and give you space, too

⟡ your little cottage is always full of animals, both domestic and wild. deer, foxes, sparrows on your lawn, cats that come and go, rescued dogs of all sizes lounging on your porch.

⟡ butcher & the boys need your help with finding the deep, hoping you can communicate with sea creatures (you've never tried before) to find him and help then track down homelander

⟡ ben is dragged along against his will, grumbling the whole drive there. when they pull up to your cottage, wisteria growing around the doorway, rose bushes with bees buzzing around, he rolls his eyes.

⟡ the front door opens, and there you stand, wearing a little blue or pink or yellow dress, a small kitten hanging out in the pocket of your apron, no shoes on

⟡ you don't ask who they are or why they're there; you just give them a beautiful big smile and greet them, half a dozen dogs following you out the house

⟡ ben has never seen anything so perfect and pure in all his life

⟡ you invite them inside, make tea and serve it with biscuits you just made. there's a robin living in your lounge and what looks like a domesticated mountain lion laying on the bottom step, eying your guests warily

⟡ you listen intently to butcher, wide eyes blinking earnestly, lips slightly parted, and ben just watches you the entire time, taking you in...

⟡ your cheeks, freckled from spending so much time in the sun; the way animals of all shapes and sizes flock to you for safety and comfort; how you're always padding around your home or garden or nearby forest barefoot, curling your toes into the grass. the way you tend your garden, picking flowers to weave into your hair, greeting the bumble bees, making polite conversation with passing crows. the soft tunes you hum or whistle, or the way you sing softly to yourself and your animals as you go about your day

⟡ ben is a goner. practically drooling at how pretty and soft and innocent you are.

⟡ he's obsessed with you after that first meeting, basically following you around like another dog. if you weren't so gentle and affectionate with everyone and everything, you might find it creepy or unnerving or irritating

⟡ but you don't mind him at all, finding his company nice and his attentiveness endearing (he's not the first wild animal you've tamed, after all)

⟡ he basically never uses your name, resorting to any one of a hundred nicknames - princess, dolly, fawn, sweet girl, kitten, pretty girl, my love, little dove

⟡ as you get more comfortable with each other, he'd lay his head in your lap by the fire or under the warm afternoon sun, and you'd scratch his head, playing gently with his hair

⟡ the first time he here's you giggle he actually melts, his heart thawing at the sound, wishing he could bottle it and replay it forever and ever.

⟡ when it gets cold and you wrap yourself in a soft sweater which is too big for you, sleeves covering your hands and he wants to wrap you up and whisk you somewhere warm (although he secretly loves the cold now, getting to hold you close - 'here, dolly, i'll warm you up', he says, pulling you back to sit in his lap, big, strong arms wrapped around you)

⟡ you don't get angry or upset often, but when you do ben thinks it's the most adorable thing ever, the way you huff and pout and stomp around lightly, whining at ben 'don't be mean' and he melts and kisses your nose and says 'i'm sorry, princess', because he can't be teasing or angry with you when you look so sweet

⟡ he finds himself talking to the animals the way he'd seen you do, even if he couldn't understand them. one morning he's sat on the porch, watching you pick vegetables, and he starts talking to the dogs by his feet about the weather and wonders if he's finally cracked

⟡ he basically becomes another feral dog that you tame and becomes an added guard dog to your already large pack. growls at people in the street if they bump your shoulder, stares down frenchie and butcher when they visit, and if he had a tail it'd definitely wag every time he looked at you

⟡ learns how to make tea just the way you like it

⟡ loves, loves, loves to make you blush, watch you get shy and flustered over the silliest little things. drives him mad the way you bite your lip, looking down at your feet or fiddling with your hands, cheeks flushed pink

⟡ never considered himself an animal guy before, but now he befriends all kinds of creatures, thinks twice about buying leather or wool, and even brings home a stray cat he found in a dumpster once

⟡ your favourite love language is physical touch, and you absolutely adore showering ben with affection; butterfly kisses, nose kisses, pressing your forehead against his. sometimes you'll be lay under a willow tree or in bed, and you get all smiley and giggly and plant kisses all over ben's face, shoulders, chest, anywhere you can reach. as you sit back, face blush, hair tousled, slightly breathless with a giddy smile, ben's heart twists almost painfully in his chest, realising how much he loves you and how much that scares him

⟡ he secretly loves the fact he can be gentle and laid back with you, dare i say soft. after a lifetime of fighting, he likes to unwind with you and your animals, and you make him feel much more human. you don't want to use or abuse him, don't need him to be soldier boy, or a hero, don't need him to be anything other than just ben

⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆ ✦ ✧ ⋆

notes -

thank you for reading!! first little h/c set like this, please let me know if you like it!! ᡣ𐭩

[not proofread]

#winniewrites #soldier boy fic #soldier boy #soldier boy headcanons #headcanon #deergirl #doe coded #soft reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #supe!reader #soldier boy x supe!reader #soft soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction

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fandom-oneshots-etc · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, can you write a story about Evan Buckley and Reader announcing that she’s pregnant to the 118 at like a family gathering :)

🍄 Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff

🍄 Summary: At a 118 family gathering, Buck's overprotective nature reveals a little more than the two of you had planned.

🍄 Word Count: 1618

🍄 Abbreviations: N/A

🍄 Warnings: Pregnancy, implied pregnancy complications

🍄 Note: I really liked this request Anon! I hope this is what you were looking for. I thought about this scenario and I instantly imagined Buck accidentally announcing the pregnancy rather than planned. If you would rather a planned version, just pop in another request. A similar request came from @quinnstan247. Enjoy :)

You could feel the eyes following you closely as you slipped into the kitchen to refill your glass of orange cordial. Your overprotective, puppy-dog boyfriend remained outside in the garden of the Nash household along with the rest of the team as they stood around Bobby and the BBQ grill. You knew that Buck was searching for any reason he could to follow you inside, but you met his gaze through the windows and offered him a reassuring smile that seemed to subdue him for the minute.

Since the second you found out, Buck had been glued to your side. It had been three weeks since you took that test, since your doctor had confirmed it and in that time you had, had to convince him every single day that he could leave you and go to work. Every day he fought you, wanting the both of you to stay home so you could rest and he could wait on your every want and need, but you couldn’t do that. You were only thirteen weeks along and there was hardly any reason to be confined to the bed just yet. You knew that he was only concerned about the safety of you and the peach you currently carried in your womb. It was endearing and one of the sweetest things you’d ever seen, you hadn’t thought that Buck could get any sweeter, but here you were one act away from having a mouth full of cavities.

What hadn’t helped was that Buck had been responding to a number of pregnancy calls in the past few weeks a few resulting in sadder endings than anyone wanted. They had definitely struck a chord with Buck and had only made him hover all the more.

Adding the water to your cordial, you took a sip of the orange, a light buzz filling your taste-buds. You had become obsessed with anything orange flavoured since your pregnancy diagnosis. Whether it was orange skittles (which Buck had kindly sat and sorted out for you), or orange flavoured chocolate, or even the orange flavoured cupcakes you had found at the grocery store and ate within an hour of buying, anything orange and you were all for it.

Walking back into the garden, your entire body seemed to clench a little as you stepped back into the gaze of the sun. As much as you were enjoying this down time with the 118, it was so hot. The heatwave had only hit LA in the past few days but already it was in full swing and you were feeling every beam of it.

“Y/n,” you turned over to where Athena was sat with Hen and her daughter May. The three of them were stood around the mini bar that Athena had installed, in direct sunlight. Already hot, you fought down the urge to grimace as you moved to stand by them, the sun glaring on your skin. “We were just telling May about Buck and that kiddie ride at the mall. She doesn’t believe us.” Hen informed and a grin split across your lips, taking your mind off of the sweltering heat.

“Oh my, God. I have a photo, hang on,” You pulled your phone out of your shoulder bag and set your drink on the bar, thumb flicking through the many photos in your gallery in search of the one from the Saturday before. “He thought it was funny and I tried to tell him he wouldn’t fit but he insisted,” You giggled and turned your phone for May to see. “I honestly thought I’d have to call nine-one-one.”

Displayed across your screen was the photo that still had you giggling a week later. There sat Buck, who had squeezed his way into the small metal bus which was obviously aimed for children 7 and under. But Buck had twisted his body at all kinds of angles and had somehow managed to worm his way into the ride. His head was poked out of the door hole, his legs curled up against his chest, unable to stretch out in the tiny space that his body was occupying.

What Athena and the others didn’t know was that Buck wouldn’t have gotten into the ride if it wasn’t for you. That morning your hormones had been playing you like a fiddle and every little thing had upset you, the bin bag had broken when you were trying to change it out for a new one, somehow a red sock had slipped in with your whites and now everything you owned was slightly toned pink and they had shown that advert with the puppy sat in a box, in the rain, on the side of the street with people walking past ignoring it. It seemed, that morning, that everything was stacked against you. Buck had offered to come with you to the mall so you could pick up your clothing order from a store, you had ordered certain items that they didn’t have in stock and they had delivered into the store the day before. You were buzzing to see the new pair of pumps you had ordered. You knew that in a few months if not weeks, the shoes would probably be pressing against the sides of your feet and ankles because of the pregnancy swelling, but that hadn’t stopped you from ordering them in your size. However, like everything else that morning, even that didn’t go as planned. The shoes had been delivered in the wrong colour and in a size smaller than you wanted, making them impossible to wear. Buck had seen how disheartened you had been when you left the store, trying not to cry in frustration. He had wanted to do something to cheer you up and in a joking manner he had made a bet with you that he could fit inside the kiddie bus ride.

It had definitely succeeded in cheering you up, if not from how silly he looked, his large muscular frame curled up inside the ride, from when he got stuck and couldn’t get himself out straight away. You had done what you could to help him out, but you were giggling so hard your entire body went weak. When he had finally gotten out, the two of you had continued to giggle all the way home and your mood had been lifted for the rest of the day.

“Oh, my God,” May giggled. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Please send me that!” she begged.

“Of course,” you agreed with a laugh of your own. “I could never gate keep on a photo like this.”

“What made him get in there?”

“It’s Buck, does he need a reason?” Hen scoffed. As the ladies continued to giggle, the heat seemed to make it’s presence known as it glared down onto you. The side of your temples was beginning to throb and your skin was starting to get slick and sticky, sweat oozing from your pores. You raised a hand to swipe at your brow, glancing around the garden for the closest seat, your legs aching.

As you moved towards one of the sun loungers, your boyfriend’s eyes caught onto your movements, already on high alert.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he asked, abandoning his drink at the grill and rushing towards you, one arm slipping around your waist to help guide you to the seat.

“Buck, I’m-”

“Dammit, it’s too hot out here for you. We should’ve cancelled,” he began muttering to himself. “Are you dizzy? Do you need a drink of water? What about something to eat? Is your blood sugar low? What if you’re dehydrated?” The only thing making you dizzy was the hurricane of questions Buck was sending your way, not even leaving a chance for you to answer them. One of his hands instinctively came to rest on the front of your stomach.

“Babe? Baby?” You tried to pull Buck out of his panicked rant, his eyes not once meeting yours as he kept scanning you for any visible injuries. Not that there were any, but the paranoia was getting the best of him and the heat probably wasn’t helping.

“We should get you in the shade,” he decided. “Shit, you should’ve stayed inside. You’re carrying precious cargo now, baby. You and peach can’t take this heat. We shouldn’t have come. This is all my fault-”

“Buck!” You pressed your hands to the sides of his face, directing his eyes to yours so you could try and ground him. “Buck, baby, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just a little hot and tired that’s all. It’s normal.” He still seemed a little uncertain, and his eyes held a lifetime of worry for you and his unborn child. “We’re okay. I promise.” You offered him a reassuring smile, your thumb coming to brush against his bottom lip rhythmically, giving him something to focus on. His eyelids pressed shut as he breathed slowly for a second.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause we can go home-”

“We’re fine. I just need to sit for a minute that’s all.” You peeked over his shoulder. “While I’m sitting, we should probably talk to the people behind you, they seem a little shocked. You kind of let the cat out of the bag.” Buck twisted his head to look around at the team behind him, everyone stood, jaws dropped and eyes wide. Eddie was the most comical of the bunch, his glass halfway raised to his mouth ready to take a sip but frozen in time with the news that Buck had unintentionally shared.

“H-Hey, guys,” He chuckled awkwardly with a sheepish grin. “I guess we have some news to share.”

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demonic0angel · 2 months ago

Note

Your Damian Fenton post gave me severe Uncles+Aunt Everlasting Trio vibes.

After the Moment TM of Danny being jealous about Jazz fixating so much on Damian, and everything had been said and resolved, I can imagine Damian being a little insecure, because his own Uncle looked like he didn't like him.

The goggles being a gift from Danny would be the turning point for the two of them.

Imagine, Danny in the lab, looking over notes from Frostbite about some experiment that he wanted to try out, maybe to take neutral ectoplasm and make it into healing ectoplasm, and he's pulling out his hair a little bit, because it's a lot all at once, and Damian wanders into the room, a little nervous, because while Uncle Danny already said it wasn't his fault, Damian still desperately wants his family to like him.

It's the "lightbulb moment" of a successful experiment that turns it around into Danny and Dakian being thick as thieves.

Danny bouncing on the spot, watching the mixture settle and change colors, and as he feels Damian approach curiously, in true Jack Fenton fashion, Damian gets to be squished against Danny's chest like a teddy bear while listening to his Uncle rapid-fire explain what just happened. It's actually pretty nice, getting to go limp and be swung around while cradled against Danny's chest, while Danny purrs with joy.

By the time he's set down again, Damian has a cursory understanding of what the experiment was, and also undeniable proof of love from his Uncle.

From there, Danny breaks out his old lab coat, from when he was Damian's size with the matching safety goggles, and has Damian put them on so they can take a photo together and send it to Jazz.

I can imagine Danny ruffling Damian's hair, giving him the Gremlin Smile and telling him "your mother's gonna flip if she catches you here without safety gear. But don't worry, your uncle's gonna make sure you know how to stay safe."

Danny gets whapped with the newspaper for using Lab Time as a bonding moment, but Damian is still clinging to him and constantly swishing the ends of his lab coat like he can't believe he's wearing it.

From there, by the time Danny, Sam and Tucker finally start dating, Damian has at least one patch in all his jeans, courtesy of Tucker, and he keeps stealing one specific t-shirt from Sam, because she left it in Danny's room and Damian thought it was the coolest thing ever, so he's going to steal it, like the gremlin Fenton child that he's learning to be.

Sam shows up the next day with a whole suitcase of graphic t-shirts for Damian to try.

Do you think the reason why Damian meets the Bats is because the Trio have eventually moved to Gotham, and Jazz+Damian are taking a vacation to go see his Aunt and Uncles?

The Trio take their nephew to a dog park so he can pet the dogs? Maybe also because they adopted a puppy from a shelter and whenever Damian is with them he HAS to be involved in walking the dog every day?

Regardless, one of the Bats see this mini-Bruce racing a dog through the park, and immediately have to go stick their nose into it, to great distress to Damian, and some seriously ruffled feathers from his Uncles, Aunt and Mother. Luckily, not Grandma and Grandpa, this time, because they're busy attending a seminar with Frostbite and his students, or there would be even more threats of bodily harm than there already were.

Danny, Tucker, and Sam were definitely a large part of his life since they babysat him when Jazz was busy. He bonded with them a lot over shared hobbies and interests (Sam with gardening and plants, Tucker with cars and machinery, Danny with ghosts and science and stars).

Honestly, when I thought of Danny being jealous of Damian, it was meant to be a moment between Jazz and Danny since Damian would've been like,,, seven when it happened. However, your idea is super cute! Danny and Damian do often do experiments and hang out with each other, but that's a post for another day 😌 the coat is specifically from Jazz since she gave it to him for his first birthday with them.

The reason why Damian meets the Bats is that the entire Fenton family went there to visit for vacation, but the real reason was that Jazz was planning to move there for work and wanted to take Damian with her, so she wanted to check it out first. Of course, shenanigans ensue as Damian makes friends with the Batkids (who are endeared by the tiny, mad scientist) and then eventually meets Bruce.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #jazz fenton #ask #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #everlasting trio #damian grows up as a fenton au #jazz + damian duo #anon ask #ty for the ask <3 #damian wayne

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cntloup · 9 months ago

Text

Simon has to go on a deployment

Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” he asks for the hundredth time, “Yes, Si. I'll be fine. Go do your job. But please be careful.” you respond as you help him put on his gear.

He's going on a quick deployment. About one week. But that doesn’t make you any less nervous.

You cup his face in your hands and stare into his eyes with a million different emotions coursing through you, “Be safe.” you whisper, “ ‘course, luv.” he replies as his gaze lingers on you, slowly drifting down to your lips. It quickly moves back up to your eyes again, but not before you notice it.

He removes his dog tags and puts them around your neck and kisses your forehead as he shuts his eyes, breathing you in.

And he leaves with longing burning in his heart and you feel as though a piece of your heart has been ripped out of your chest.

You spend most days quietly reading, tending to the small garden in the backyard, groaning in pain and throwing up apart from constantly worrying for his safety.

A week and three days pass and he’s finally back home.

He's alert, worry and anxiety creeping up on him the moment he notices the door is slightly ajar.

He pulls out his gun and aims it forward, kicks the door open, his heart sinks into his stomach and he nearly faints on the spot as his eyes fall on the trail of blood staining the floor.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader

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gothic-thoughts · 4 months ago

Text

Get What You Ask For

(sry bout the mini hiatus, almost scrapped this shit like twice and had nothin else to post 🙄)

Ghost Riley x Black Fem Reader Smut

MDNI, Princess!Reader, Black Knight!Ghost, Bodyguard!Ghost

Part 2: Right Here

CW: trying to seduce him but he flips it on you, fingering in bath, not proofread

Word Count: 2182 (give or take)

Yes, you were the princess but that doesn't mean you didn't have a curfew. It was for your safety but you didn't care. The village was always prettier at night and you can only see the edge of it from your window. It wasn't fair and knowing that, you always managed to escape from the palace. Tonight was supposed to be the same as all the others until you opened your door and jumped back, clutching your chest at the sight of a Black Knight blocking your doorway. Despite his dark metal helmet resting under his arm, you still couldn’t see his face thanks to the black face mask that hid everything but his eyes.

"Princess." He bowed at his waist respectfully.

You stammer in confusion for half a second before composing yourself enough to bow back. “Good evening...?”

"You really like pushing your curfew a little farther every night, don't you?" He said in a low, mocking tone.

“And who, pray tell, are you?”

"I’m Simon Riley; they call me 'Ghost'."

“And what are you doing at my door...?”

"I have been assigned as your new bodyguard. It seems I've come at the perfect time."

You scoff in disbelief. “New? What happened to my old one?”

"Fired.” He said bluntly, sidestepping you as he walked into your room, “I'm afraid it's been decided that he cannot be trusted with your safety."

You groan slightly, shutting the door. “Who decided that!? The maids couldn’t have, they always comment on how good of an influence he was being.”

Simon didn’t answer for a bit, making you rest your hands on your hips and watch as he looked around. You watch his eyes dart about, taking note of everything in your room from the windows to the bathing area. He peeked through the curtains and looked out into the gardens below but little did you know he was envisioning how you escaped every night. He chuckles to himself and when you call his name in annoyance, he pulls the curtains shut before turning to look at you.

“Not a good enough influence it seems, seeing that you’re all dressed up for another secret night out.”

“Tell me who got Brian fired!”

Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, "The King, Princess." He said in a deadpan voice.

“What? You’re joking.”

“I don’t get paid to joke with you, I get paid to watch you.”

“That... That bastard hired a Black Knight to watch me instead of a different palace guard!? I know it might not have mattered, but I am not some criminal! Ugh, I can’t believe him!”

"I'm sure you'll live."

“Hush! You can't stay anyway, I haven't bathed yet so you'll have to go...”

“You have a divider; I’ll stand by the bed.”

“Uh, no. You're supposed to stand outside and guard the door.”

"Maybe your old guard. I've been given permission to remain by your side at all times.”

“I'm sorry, what?”

"Did I stutter?" Ghost starts walking, “Since you managed to sneak out, what, your father told me 15 times? You're stuck with me 24/7 until further notice, Princess, whether you like it or not. Bathing is the least of your worries."

The Black Knight was now standing right in front of you while you tried to play off how intimidating his intensity was with a disinterested groan despite feeling slightly defeated. You had planned to see the fountain in front of the village gates tonight only for it to be ruined by your father and your newly assigned guard dog. You begrudgingly walk over to the bathing area and pull the divider in front of the tub with a huff of frustration before running the bath. You put your hair up in a bun then drop your gown to the floor as a desperate, last-choice idea popped into your head.

An idea that you've never tried on a knight, or had to try. Once naked, you step into the bubble bath and sit down, leaning back against the porcelain until I was up to my neck in hot water and soap bubbles. Ghost leaned against your bedpost, waiting for you to finish. He was used to staying by princesses and guarding them, but you were more of a pain than the others. He glanced at your discarded gown and then at the frosted glass separating you from him. You clear your throat, ready to put your plan into action.

“What village are you from, Ghost?”

"None that you would recognize, Miss." He called back.

“I'm guessing you’re betrothed.”

"What makes you say that?"

“Well you're a big, strong knight... a soldier. Women adore feeling protected... So I was thinking one had tried to get you off the market.”

Your comment caught him off guard for a moment but he quickly recomposed himself, looking at the between you two again.

"I’m not wed, Princess.”

“Mm... no women have captured your heart~? That's a shame...”

He scoffs to himself, rolling his eyes, “You think so?”

“I would think women would be clamoring to see what you look like under your helmet since intensity can be very attractive.”

"Princess, how long do you plan to stay in that tub?"

“I, um... need my towel! I must've left it out there, could you... bring it over?”

His eyes narrowed; it wasn't unusual for princesses to ask him for things, but this just seemed a bit too sketchy. He weighed his options for a moment before sighing to himself. He walked over to the bed and found the towel you had left behind then slowly approached the divider, his eyes narrowed the closer he got all while you smiled at the fact your plan was working.

“You can come around... I'm under the bubbles...”

Simon hesitated for a moment, getting the feeling you were up to something. He steps around the wall of frosted glass and glances at the bubbles that shroud every part of your body except the top of your breasts and up. He sighed before slowly stepping closer to the foot of your tub, his eyes never leaving your obscured body.

"Here's your towel, Princess."

He held out the towel towards the water, his eyes darting to the bubbles for a moment, thinking as you leaned forward, risking exposing more of your breasts to reach for the towel. He knows a princess would never do that— risk their modesty for a towel. Right as your fingers were about to get the soft fabric, Ghost quickly moved the towel just barely out of your reach, eyebrow-raising as your face changed.

“Wha- Ghost—”

"You didn’t really think I’d fall for that, did you Princess?”

“What are you talking about, I haven't done anything!”

"You think I was born yesterday?" He steps around the bathtub until he squats behind you, whispering, "You and I both know that you were trying to pull.”

You look over your shoulder, “What are you talking about?”

“The old 'accidentally drop the towel' trick."

“I was not!”

"Oh and I'm supposed to believe that?"

“Yes, I may have snuck out but I—”

“You sound extremely defensive for someone who didn't try to pull that stunt."

“Because I didn’t! I would never!”

"If you say so, Princess. Then why did you ask me to bring you your towel?"

“Because...”

You tilt your head to the side to escape the nice feeling of his warm breath on your neck, Even though you tried to move away, you weren't fast enough. When you tilted your head to the side, it only brought his face closer to your neck, his breath grazing over your skin.

“Because...?”

“Because I forgot it—“

"Really?"

“Yes.” You snap, “I didn't know forgetting was an issue.”

“No, the issue is you want your bodyguard to see you...” You hear Simon drop the towel, “Covered in nothing but bubbles...” He gently wraps his hand around your neck, “In the hopes that I’d just crumble and let you go live la vida fucking loca...” He tilts your head back until you can see his eyes, “Just like your last guard did. Is that right?”

You tense, trembling slightly as you search for any words to reply with. How was he doing this to you with fear? You were a Princess— the daughter of his king— he wasn’t supposed to talk to you this boldly, much less touch you like this. You knew he was a different type of knight but that always meant he was brutal and such but this was different.

You were now terrified of him since he didn’t care about any rules or regulations regarding touching a princess, that, and the fact that he could break your neck right here with a single grunt. He was terrifying but you were so consumed by curiosity, you didn’t dare say anything to make him think that you wanted him to stop touching you. A low sigh escaped Ghost’s lips as he looked down at you, his cold eyes meeting yours for the first time.

“You very are a difficult person to guard, you know that?” He gently squeezes your throat, his thumb running over your pulse in a slow, taunting manner, “And the worst part of that is you're only difficult because you won't let me."

You gasp as his other hand comes around and slides down into the bubbles to massage your breasts, rough fingers pinching your nipple and rolling it back and forth.

“Y-you...”

“Mhm? What is it Princess?”

“Y-you can't touch me like th-this...”

He scoffed and tilted your head so you were looking into his eyes again. “So you can try to manipulate me... and now you’re telling me what I can and can’t do?”

“Well, I-I...”

“You’ve been nothing but a nuisance since I arrived, trying to get me to let down my guard. You’ve played your games and now it’s my turn.”

His hands were roaming your body, caressing every inch as he pleased. Eventually, his hand lowers deeper into the water, keeping your head tilted back as his hands slot between your thighs, making you gasp and tense up, looking up at him. He feels you stiffen beneath him but continues to tease your body slowly. He could see that you were having trouble fighting the words on your lips as he explored every inch of your body in the water. Slowly, one of his fingers slips deeper between your legs, gently grazing over your core to test your reaction.

“O-Oh my god...”

“Mm?”

He chuckled lowly and gently massaged between your folds, feeling the warmth radiating from your body. He was slowly getting addicted to it and you were getting so needy. He didn’t want this to end. Simon leaned forward a bit more, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as he spoke.

“Still going to sit there and keep insisting that you didn’t try and trick me?”

Your legs try to close. “I-I wasn't...”

He tsked and shoved your thighs back apart, your knees thudding against the inside of the tub, the fingers slipping inside you.

“Keep 'em open.” His lips lightly brushed over your neck, slowly kissing you before moving back up to continue, "Oh and I don’t believe you.”

He said, gently spreading you open for his fingers to push deeper inside with ease. He could feel every twitch you made as he stroked your walls with slow, circular motions.

“I... I should tell my father about this...

He laughed at your comment and his hand stopped, pulling back from you. He was so close to just giving in and taking you completely.

“You could, Princess." He said bluntly while looking at your flustered face, “Be sure not to leave out the part about you seducing me.”

“You're a Black Knight, you’re not supposed to be seduced...”

He curls his fingers inside you. “And you’re supposed to behave, but that hasn’t stopped either of us from breaking the rules.”

Your head falls back further and rests on the edge of the tub. “Y-you're... a bastard.”

“Mhm.” He said as he gently ran his hand over your clit, pressing a finger into your warmth, “And you’re a spoiled fucking brat.”

You look back down, whimpering at how sexy his muscular arm looked disappearing into the bubbles. His hand moved to grip your cheek so you were looking at him again, loving how flustered and needy you looked as you stared up at him with pleading eyes.

“I wonder what your father would think of this.” His thumb gently grazed over your bottom lip, “He’d be livid wouldn’t he~?”

“Shut it...”

“Or you’ll do what?”

“I'll... I'll get you f-fired...”

His fingers curl, pumping in and out even faster, using his other hand to cover your mouth.

“You won’t.” He hums and gently massages circles on your clit with his thumb, a small smile dancing across his lips, “You’re too busy enjoying this.”

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Part 2 right here y'all

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