#Metal collection services

[ay-miphae]

Oh yeah it definitely felt drier than usual this year, this doesn't surprise me. @enbymetalhead and @lightineventide found that the "microgenres" were picked from user playlists, ie if a lot of your songs are found on user playlists with the words "pink" "pilates" "princess" well... that's where it comes from. Still AI to an extent, and it definitely would have been much better if there were more curators who cared about music.

Also I've been keeping up with my last.fm and a lot of the songs in my top 100 are just ...not accurate?? They're all songs I like at least, but having looked at my stats I have absolutely no idea what it counts as being "most played" (there's lots that didn't show up at all that should have been well within my top 50 and vice versa)

im genuinely convinced that they used ai for the monthly thing on spotify wrapped. what do you mean may was my "coastal grandmother ukulele oldies" phase. august was "pink pilates princess strut pop??" no one would say that september was my "sweater weather permanent wave indie" moment. no way we waited so long for this. multiple people and i also noticed that it took a few seconds longer than usual to load, maybe im just impatient but i wouldnt be surprised if that was ai preparing like all of it as i clicked through. spotify has been using a lot of ai lately with the playlist making, dj, playlist cover designer and now whatever this ai podcast thing is.

[sak-supernatural]

You know I'm sitting over here reaching the point where I kinda feel like a schmuck because I've never owned a single pice of music I listen to. I have never had a cd. Now that's not all my fault, my parents never got me any, even when I expressed intrest in my Dads collection (he has hundreds, maybe not quite) and never really helped me get into music. Hence why I sit here in my 20s only just now finding, developing, and loving my music taste. And it's different to theirs, and they don't care for much of it (is this what rebellious teenagers felt like?), and I have never been happier. I am confident in my love of music now (for so long I was embarrassed or shy) and I sorta want to get into collecting cd's for the bands I love. So that nobody (greedy streaming services) can rip my beloved music away from me! I would also be willing to go through the learning curb of ripping said cd's onto a device (an mp3 or something) that I can take out with me. It would have to have Bluetooth capabilities, I need my earbuds, but other than that I think it would be nice to have something just to play music. Modernization has gone too far, it's time for a step back. I remember always wanting an mp3 player as a kid, but could never afford it, but I have adult money now, I can do whatever I want with that adult money if I want to. Do you think this is a good plan? Or have I gone completely off the rails? And any advice is appreciated, I don't know what I am doing in this particular area.

[mwrecycles]

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[unionscrapmetal]

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[gravegoer]

i humbly suggest pirate sevika in small letters

thank you for your service

Sail the Seven Seas ☠︎︎

i had this in the works ! you read my mind, we have cowboy sevika, but we absolutely need pirate sevika, i did a little "how you met" before the hcs ! also ill greatfully take any other requests for pirate sevika i love her sm (i hope you appreciate the pirate hat i edited on her lol)

She found you when her crew was raiding a ship, you were kept prisoner in the dark dungeons below deck after the pirates robbed a bar.

Sevika was inclined to leave you there, as she was in a rush. But your pleading eyes convinced her.

She told you to back up and pulled the flimsy metal door right off the hinges. Your only experience with pirates was your former kidnappers.

They were ruthless and had not a care in the world. They were greedy enough to pat you down even though you cried and insisted you had no form of money on you other than the jewelry they had ripped from your limbs.

But after she ripped the door off, she simply walked away, not sparing you a second glance. She set you free, but now what? Were you supposed to swim to land?

You hesitated before running up the old wooden stairs, the faint moonlight beamed on your face. It smelled fresh on deck, no longer having the musky odor of mold and wood filling your nose.

You were also greeted with the sight of the woman that freed you, her back facing you and pointing to crew members, yelling orders. She must be the captain, signified by her detailed hat and especially the way the crew listened to her.

People scurried under her gaze almost cowardly. Boxes were being hauled onto a much bigger ship (which you assumed was hers) over a wooden plank.

She was tall and obviously built. You could tell even though she was adorned with many layers, straps, and belts accentuated her curves and edges. She had a metal prosthetic that looked dangerous. Not only that, but a gun and two swords hung from her waist.

You approached her timidly, the floorboards squeaking under your bare feet. When you sat a hand on her arm, urging her to turn around, she put a larger hand on the hilt of her sword defensively and spun to face you.

At just the force of it, you stumbled back. She was strong. Your eyes widened at her hands, hovering over the holster of her weapon. She spoke, "What are you trying to do?"

Her voice was gruff and demanding, leaving no room for questions. "I don't have anywhere to go," you stated honestly.

"And what do you expect me to do about that."

Although she put on the front of a rough demeanor, her eyes scanned your frame in curiosity. Worn clothes hung from your body, hair a mess, and despite it all, you were quite pretty.

She knew she couldn't take you on a ship with a bunch of men. In her eyes, it was almost as dangerous as leaving you on the ship to fend for yourself.

Almost.

She took you onto her ship with the promise that at the next stop they had, she would drop you off there. Whether or not you knew where you were.

Having no better option, you opted to go with her. She didn't shackle you up or restrain you, knowing you could do little to no harm to her or her crew.

She refused to put you in the berth with other pirates. It was stuffy and cramped, and all in all, no place for you.

So you had a room next to her (and an odd blue haired girl). She said it was fine because it's temporary anyway.

She gave you some clothes that fit, and a pair of shoes to put on your feet. And the room was more than you could ask for. It was spacious and contained a lavish bed.

You assumed it was someone else's room previously as it was already decorated. (Plus, she told you not to meddle in any of the stuff)

Sevika didnt expect you to do anything, thinking you werent fit to operate on a ship so, you were not asked to do any work. In all your boredom you found yourself roaming around the ship, looking at the stuff that was collected in each corner. Some trinkets, belts, broken weapons, etc.

Sevika watched you closely, making sure you didn't have any ulterior motives. Eventually, she realized that you were nothing but curious.

Then she watched you closely to make sure you didn't fall overboard.

At meals, you stuck close by her side, not really knowing anyone on board yet. She gave you things off her plate, saying you looked starved. And you didn't complain. You weren't really fed in the dungeons.

She started to show you around the deck, answering your questions about the sea and her ship. When you started to ask too many questions, she sighed and shook her head, wandering off to attend to her duties.

She was truly a mystery to you, not being able to read her gaze or body language. But what you did know is that she was a ruthless captian. Always having something for her crew to do and ordering them around with her loud, booming voice.

She was intimidating in theory, yes. But towards you, she seemed a bit more.. lenient?

Nontheless, in a few days, you finally arrived at their next destination, and you stepped off the ship with everyone. Taking in the way the ground felt against your feet, no longer swaying from side to side.

You had no idea where you were, and even though it didn't seem like a bad place, you couldn't just start anew again. I mean, how were you supposed to rebuild your whole life?

Sevika sensed your anxiety as you wandered through the streets with her crew. She saw your eyes flick side to side, looking at the buildings and people.

She might regret it, but she couldn't just leave you here.

You were growing more worried by the hour, and when night fell and everyone started back to the docks, you felt lost. You stayed behind, watching them load back onto the ship when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder. "You coming?"

Looking up, you locked eyes with Sevika, her brow was cocked and her lips slightly upturned. "You're letting me stay?" You questioned, in shock.

"Well, the ship is leaving soon, so only if you can make it." She teased.

You hugged her tight, wrapping your arms around her large frame. Her eyes widened in shock, not returning the hug before you ran off to the ship.

HC time !!

Now that you were deemed officially a part of the crew you had work to do, scrubbing the deck was a daily task. Even though other crew members seemed to dread it, you enjoyed smelling the fresh ocean air and feeling the wind on your back.

Sometimes you could feel Sevika's eyes on you as you cleaned, she sat at the helm, supposedly watching everyone. But when you turned around you would lock eyes with her and she would smirk.

When she sent the crew out on missions you grew to never be afraid, picking up on how to use weapons easily and fight alongside other people.

She almost admired this about you, it was like you were a natural. Like you belonged on her ship.

You didn't know what was on her mind most of the time. She was always closed off and didn't converse with anyone on ship except for Jinx, who was obviously closer to her than the rest of the crew.

But one fateful night you ran into her when you couldn't seem to get to sleep

You approached the bow of the ship, watching the moonlight reflect off the waves, and the clouds move with the wind. It was quite beautiful at night even though there wasn't much to look at other than water.

Hearing footsteps behind you, you put a hand to your holster but spun around to see Sevika. Seeing her in this light reminded you of the day you met her, but now you were in front of her, compared to the day she found you.

"Up so late?" She questioned, her voice indicated she had waken up recently.

"Yeah, I couldn't fall asleep," You let your guard down again and leaned against the wood, hand cradling your face as you stared back into the sea.

"Y'know.. I didn't think you had it in you." She commented.

"Had what in me?" You chuckled, "The guts to be a pirate?"

You talked for a long while after that, the sun hit the horizon by the time you said your goodbyes. You had a feeling that Sevika wouldn't be a mystery to you for much longer.

Eventually, she would come around to teach you how to fight properly, as you mostly fought based off of what you saw others do. She held your body close to hers, helping you mimic her movements. Feeling the buckles of her belts on your back, the coldness of her metal arm on your waist.

As a matter of fact she taught you a lot of things, like how to steer the ship: putting her hands over yours, pointing in the direction of where to go. Teasing you when your hands got tired, and taking over for you, letting you stand between her and the wheel.

She joined you in the crows nest, sitting beside you on the railing with a hand on your back, making sure you didn't fall. She would direct your telescope to look at nearby land or into the horizon.

You had a lot of talks up there.

Sometimes, the crew wondered what was going on between you two, as you were practically always together. (She denies all allegations.. for now)

She taught you how to wield a sword and fought with you for fun. Letting you win from time-to-time, you knew she let you. I mean, there's no way you'd be able to pin Sevika to the wooden deck without a struggle.

You would catch her sleeping on the helm, her feet kicked up on a chair and her hat on her face. As punishment, you would take her hat and keep it until morning. Then, prancing around the next day with it on, commanding the crew jokingly, pretending to be her.

When she finally caught you, she would sweep you up and take the hat right off your head, chuckling at your mischievousness. Sometimes, she would let you wear her hat, only if you promised not to lose it.

After particularly stressful missions, the crew would throw a small party for their winnings, needing time to wind down. You grew accustomed to the crew, even making a few friends with unlikely people.

You and Jinx drank a bit together and danced around on the table, singing sea shanties loudly. But eventually, Sevika would catch you all. And make you clean up. (But not before having a drink herself)

And it was almost a nightly routine to go up to the deck and talk once everyone was asleep, gazing into the moon with her. It felt natural. You felt like you belonged.

God i love her, i dream about her I swear. I love pirates... and I love sevika, pls send in more pirate sevika asks i wanna do a siren one too ngl maybe how Sevika isnt drawn in by your siren call because the captain is a woman AUGHHHHH

[danielpscrapdealer]

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[arjudy224]

Death of a family

The Intern Collection:

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

Once the warehouse went up in flames, the world went silent. A blinding light stuns my senses. Before I can react, Nightwing shields me from the shock wave as we both go tumbling down. For a couple seconds, the only sound I can hear is the pounding of his heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Frozen, I see my horror reflected in his pale blue eyes. We didn't make it in time.

The ash slowly descends while the two vigilantes rummage through the debris. Staying out of the way, I do my best to be productive by prepping the med pack. Prepping for the worst, but hoping for the best. A slight glimmer catches my eye from a hundred yards.

Narrowing my eyes, I stumble through the wreckage. Drawing near, I dust the fallen ash away from a metallic pendant. More specifically a metallic bird... no. oh God no. It's a Robin. Dropping the med pack in shock, I manage to choke out "Dick..."

Nightwing rushes to my side within moments.

"What is it?" He questions, "Are you hurt?"

His eyes dart across my face looking for any signs of injury. Following my gaze, he mutters.

"Oh..."

When the body is revealed, I feel nothing. I should be screaming. Crying. Cursing at a god I don't believe in... but I don't say anything. Time slows down. Once Batman takes vitals, I work on breathes while Nightwing does chest compressions. 30 compressions. 2 breathes. Every other rotation, Bruce and Dick switch out. CPR is brutal. It's hard to ignore the cracking of the sternum or the fluid spilling into the one way mask. Attaching the AED, I pray something changes. Pausing Bruce's CPR, we clear the area to deliver the first shock. Then the second. Sandwiched between rounds of CPR, the AED gives us nothing to go off of.

After a while, it becomes hopeless. Most hearts restart after the first two shocks. Bruce's determined gaze grows frantic. Using his entire body, Batman's chest compressions progressively become deeper. Too deep. I avoid looking at the face of the limp carcass. If I look at his face, then it means this entire afternoon actually happened.

"Bruce, STOP! This isn't doing anything. " Dick argues tearing the man away from his fallen son, "He's... gone."

My chest tightens at Nightwing's voice crack. This cannot be real.

Pulling himself together, the Bat's eyes meet mine. For the first time since I've met him, the calculated facade has fallen to the wayside. Pure anguish stares back at me. From the slumping of his shoulders to the tight line of his lips, it's clear as day. Straightening himself, the Bat swiftly moved the body back to the plane.

"I'll prepare Alfred for the service."

Service... Is that it? That soon?

Dick excuses himself claiming to need a bite to eat. With a lingering hug, he tells me that he'll whip me something up too. Haphazardly, I decline the offer. Dick's right of course. I haven't eaten in over a day, but... Every ounce of hunger left my body the moment, I smelled burnt flesh.

For the first time all day, I look at him.

Covered in soot, the burns are the first images that are seared in my subconscious. Black bruises lace around every external patch of skin. Underneath all the brutality, my jaw clenches. Did he always look this young? For a kid who was starting to develop a jawline, I forgot how round his cheeks were. How long ago was his birthday again? A few months? Fifteen. His thick dark lashes stay completely still while I brush the hair out of his face.

No... No.. This isn't right. This is not how our story goes... Prom. Graduation. We were supposed to be dumb kids in love. Not some high school cautionary tale.

Suddenly, it all sinks in. I can't breathe.

No more study dates at Wayne Tower.

No more reading together

No more lazy Sunday morning smiles.

No more late-night Robin visits.

Sliding down the wall, a single tear drops down my face. The pressure resting on my chest prevents any more tears. Everything in me wants to wail. Throw a fit. Kill the bastard who did this. Instead, I stare wordlessly at the smooth metallic wall furnishing.

I am too young to feel this old.

Tag list: @jjsmeowthie

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

[calolily]

A little Xmas gift for @ayvaines with a delightful little short written by @cweepa under the cut.

As the Fasten Seatbelt sign blinks off, Astarion rubs his temples and gets to his feet. Holidays. He hates working through them.

“Look alive,” someone tells him. One of his colleagues, he reckons, but he doesn’t recognise them. This is, after all, a route he doesn’t get rostered into often. He’s only here at a special request. And it’s not too bad. On one hand, it’s a pretty short flight. On the other, it’s long enough to warrant a meal service.

As children and adults alike begin rushing towards the washroom, Astarion side-steps them elegantly and makes his way towards the galley. There, another attendant is already preparing the meal trolley. They hand it off to him with an apologetic look. He’s the unfortunate sod that drew the short straw today. But truthfully, it’s not all that bad. He rolls the cart down the aisle, repeating the same thing over and over;

“Boar or trout?” Most people pick trout. Astarion can’t fathom why, but perhaps that’s because he doesn’t really care for fish. Then again, he doesn’t really care for this particular job. He’s only here because, well –

“Excuse me.” Astarion turns to an elf on the left. She smiles at him. “Is the trout option meat-free?” He closes his eyes. Opens them, a strained smile on his face.

“No, but if you require a vegetarian option, we do have Blackbark soup.” It’s a dietary request that he’s certain this passenger had not stated prior, but it’s fine. That’s why they have spares.

She nods. “I’ll take that.” And that should be end of it, except when he’s circling back, she snaps her fingers at him. As though he’s a bloody hound. He inhales deeply.

“Yes, ma’am?” “This tastes like meat.” “I assure you, there is no meat in there. It’s made with tree bark.” She’s insistent. “It tastes like a beef stew.” To his annoyance, she’s lifting up the tray and shoving it at him. Soup slops precariously over the edge. He ducks away on instinct.

“Ma’am, please put the tray table down.” She pushes it at him again.

“I don’t think so.” Astarion allows his eyes to dart to the ceiling as he mutters a silent prayer. Forcing a smile onto his face, he leans in close.

“If this is not your liking, I’m sure we can find something else for you to eat.” His gaze flickers down to the metal tray. The implication behind his words is clear.

She settles back in her seat, nose scrunched. But at least she goes back to eating her stew. Sighing, Astarion returns to the galley, where he spends a few peaceful moments cleaning the trolley. That is, until someone begins jabbing at the call button.

The sight that greets him has him contemplating jumping off the plane and into the ocean below. A dragonborn stares at him challengingly.

“Ma’am,” he says, eye twitching imperceptibly.“Please take your feet off the headrest.”

She sniffs at him. “I don’t think I will.” He’s losing his patience, alongside his brain function, because he’s half-holding his breath to stop himself from smelling anything he doesn’t wish to.

“Ma’am, this is not only unsanitary, but you’re disrupting the experience of your fellow passengers. That’s someone else’s headrest you’re using as a footstep.” All gets in return is an audible gasp.

“Are you questioning my personal hygiene?” Astarion stares at her blankly. He can’t help himself.

“It’s a foot.” That should be self-explanatory. Thankfully, he’s saved by the senior attendant in his ear. She tells him to begin collecting the trays. Oh, joy.

The hours tick by in a blur of tantrums – both from babies and adults alike. He catches countless passengers attempting to have a covert cigarette in the bathroom, right beneath the giant NO SMOKING sign.

Someone attempts to hit him with a tray. Ten more try to hit on him. A scandalised mother gets into an altercation with an enraged passenger when her child refuses to stop screaming.

All of Astarion’s limited sympathy flies out the window when he finds out that said child is a bloody teenager. An actual orcish child tries to toss a cup at him. Two seats down, a middle-aged tiefling catches said cup and tries to tuck it into their duffel. Astarion doesn’t care. If they want a souvenir from this blasted flight so badly, they can take it.

He’s barely made his way up the aisle when someone else grabs his sleeve. He’s about to snap at them for touching him, when the woman in question raises a finger to her lips and gestures for him to lean in close.

“I think that couple over there is …” Her voice trails off. Astarion follows her pointed finger and fights the urge to groan out loud. He makes his way across the aisle.

“Sir, ma’am,” he begins. They both look up with varying levels of guilt. “I do hope you know that joining the mile-high club really isn’t as impressive an achievement as the movies make it out to be.” He pauses and narrows his eyes. “Not that you’d be inaugurated there anytime soon. I’ve seen more enthusiasm in wildlife documentaries.” Ignoring their sputtered excuses, Astarion stomps away.

The relief he feels is immense.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Astarion ducks into the galley for a moment. It’s thankfully empty. He runs trembling hands along his hair, trying to smooth it back into place for disembarkation.

“Astarion.”

He looks up, a polite service-smile already straining the too-dry skin of his face. A moment of peace amidst this madhouse is immeasurably precious. He’s this close to cracking, his temples radiating with a growing pain that is becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

His shoulders slump visibly as a familiar face appears in his field of vision: solid arms outstretched, faint circles beneath his eyes, but his bearded jaw curved upwards in an unmistakable grin. The tension from the flight leaves him immediately.

And for the first time that day, Astarion smiles back.

Holidays.

He hates working through them, but really, it’s not all that bad when your husband is the one flying the plane

[deathtastegirl]

girl nu metal that isnt kittie: a collection

sugarcoma: british nu metal, very raw first album and a more clean but less nu second album. features metal britney spears cover

defenestration: also british, had 2 albums and one ep. a lot more british than sugarcoma

my ruin: very riffy and stopped being nu after the second album (like kittie)

tura satana/manhole: same singer as my ruin. was rap-rock and then dropped the rapping after the first album (mostly).

otep. brutal nu metal. honestly became a lot more nu over time?

spike 1000. toured with a lotta real popular bands (static-x, staind, stone temple pilots etc) but ended up becoming forgotten.

human waste project. was featured in a lotta metal magazines when they were together. they weren't too popular.

eths. they're french! and they're brutal!

still breathing. from my homestate! they were christian, so they weren't too heavy. jesus wouldn't like that.

you're pretty. very atmospheric/experimental. not on streaming services.

infected rain: honestly not too nu metal but they count i guess

bands i didnt put and why

flyleaf: im so sick can be nu metal sure but they're just a rock band that honestly sounds more emo

jack off jill: i see them in sm nu metal playlists/lists, but they aint nu metal. not even close lol.

evanescence: bring me to life is the only nu song they have. sorryz

guano apes: open your eyes is pretty nu metal but thats about it

[kiryoutann]

warning(s): MDNI, ANGST, simon riley being an asshole (like really), kind of gore description as metaphor for REAALLYY desperate love??? non-consensual tracking by reader (SURPRISE!!)

Simon might be the worst denialist ever. Because, how could he say it was all casual?

“I forgot something in your car.” You tell him.

Simon's frown deepened, his head tilting slightly as he seemed to contemplate your words. It was absurd—after all these weeks, here you are, standing in front of his apartment, having somehow discovered the address, and claiming to have forgotten something in his car.

But he doesn't say anything, just continues to make his way to the car. You follow closely behind him. He opens the door to the passenger seat, then steps aside to let you check the car. You stretch your hand under the passenger seat, blindly feeling for anything, brushing through the dust and small gravel collected there until you finally touch something cold and metallic.

Pulling it out, the phone you had planted there weeks earlier came into view. You knew this meant Simon had laid his eyes on it too. It wouldn’t take long for him to connect the dots and figure out you had been tracking him this whole time.

Fucking hell. Simon remembered what he had said about modern phones. He closed the car door with a sharp click, then turned to you.

“So you’ve been followin’ me, then?”

“You didn't return my texts,” you stated bluntly.

"I asked you a question." He growls, almost like he's threatening you.

You observed the anger brewing in the depths of his dark eyes, radiating from him like a hot flame. Good, you thought silently. At least there was something that riled him up; otherwise, you would be suffering alone while he goes to fuck any willing bodies he can get his hands on.

"Why didn't you call me?" You ask again. “Why does it say your number is no longer in service? Why didn't you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” he snap, voice dripping with venom. “You think I owe you an explanation?”

Your blurry vision missed a flicker of change in his expression. When the tears escaped and the world came into focus again, all you saw was Simon gritting his teeth, jaw locked. He turned and began to walk away.

You followed him, quickening your pace to catch up. “Simon! Simon, wait!”

Despite your best efforts, he continues to keep his back turned to you, refusing to even spare you a glance. He fixed his gaze straight ahead, seemingly hell-bent on creating a vast gulf between you. You called out his name once more, your voice echoing in the stillness of the night, but he kept right on walking.

“Yes, I deserve an explanation! I don’t know why you’re being like this. We were fine the last time we were together. What happened? Why did you just disappear on me?”

You reached out, your fingers brushing against the sleeve of his jacket to get him to stop and face you. He came to a halt. A jolt of electricity surged through you as he encircled your fingers with his own, but it soon faded as he let go of your grip on the leather. Something inside you dropped away, leaving a shameful hollow space inside.

Simon towers over you, his stature imposing and intimidating. He locks a hard glare on you. “I asked you a question, didn't I?” His voice fell to a dangerously low tone. “Why the fuck have you been following me?”

The dam holding back your tears broke, leaving you choking on your own sobs. How could he not know? All these tears, all these cries… how could he still fail to see that it was all for him? To be stripped bare only for him to overlook it. Should you skin yourself alive then? To tear your heart out, to hold the raw, bleeding organ in the palm of your trembling hand as an offering?

“Because I want to know where you are,” You settle for the simpler version, hyperventilating as you take a breath. “You know my place, my workplace... You even went to my cousin’s wedding. And yet, I know nothing about you, Simon. Nothing.”

“You think just ‘cause we fucked a few times, that gives you the right to pry into my life?”

A sharp pang of pain shot through your chest. The world was ruby-colored, either from your boiling anger or the hemorrhage from the sharpness of his words. Your jaw clenched, your gaze sharpened.

“Fuck you, Simon,” you spat. “You know we’re not just fucking.”

The clenched fists at your sides tremble, and you don’t know if it’s from anger or hurt or the weight of your own expectation to make him see it. Or perhaps it’s all three. How could he speak like this when there's a specific section in your dresser for the clothes he frequently brings and leaves, when he constantly returns and stays longer even as the morning has risen, when he drove you to the countryside and dances and twirls you around like those old couples do? Not when he embraces you until your tears subside, nor when each of his kisses offers that one thing you've chased your whole life.

There’s no way this isn’t love. He just needs to stop denying it.

Simon's eyes narrowed into slits. "Then you read it all wrong, darlin'."

The way he said it was cold, without a shred of sympathy—but nothing was colder than the way Simon continually turned his back to you as he continued to walk farther and farther away, as if all he wanted was to get as far away from you as possible. Disgusting woman in love. But you never got the hint, did you? You kept following him, running after him like a stupid little dog created solely to love, love, love, and never be loved back.

[sneak peek of chapter 13 of "A MAN'S HEART IS TRULY A WRETCHED, WRETCHED THING.".]

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION.

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ �� Number of part: 23/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words. Tags will be added as the story is written.

⊹👩🏼‍💻 From the author: Almost the Christmas part. There's a lot going on here, and you'll also see Jungkook in action in the mafia stuff. What do you think about it? Did I do a good job with his character? 🥺 An amazing trip to Japan becomes a turning point. Thank you very much to everyone who reads 💜

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You know that I appreciate you very much and love you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋 Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 12: Christmas trip to Niseko.

Jungkook was sitting in a spacious office with panoramic windows that overlooked Seoul at night. The office of some kind of food company. A pretty good-looking one, judging by the look of the place.

Thick cigarette smoke was gathering under the ceiling, and in front of him, at a massive desk, sat a client of their services.

The man in the expensive suit was constantly adjusting his tie, trying not to make eye contact with Jungkook. Jungkook didn't want to be here, and he had no desire to extort money from this miserable man. But that was his job. He was sitting in the man's office and acting like he owner the place.

"We had a deal!" - Jungkook said, slowly shifting a heavy black metal fist in his hands, a symbol that no refusal would be accepted. His voice sounded indifferent, but with a hint of threat. "You put your money on our fighter, we make sure he wins, and you pay the agreed upon share."

"I... I understand..." - The man began, wiping sweat from his forehead. "But my business is going through a tough time. I just need a little more time..."

Jungkook leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and his voice became even quieter, but no less menacing.

"Your 'hard times' are not our concern. Namjoon has entrusted me with this matter, and I will not leave this office until I get what is due."

The man tried to look calm, but his fingers were trembling. He hesitated for a few more seconds and then walked over to the safe in his office. It was hidden behind a painting on the wall and he took out the wads of bills.

"Everything should be here. I didn't want to delay you... It just happened that..." - The man brought the money to the table and put it down carefully.

Jungkook took the money, counting it carefully before tossing the envelope on the table next to the couch where Jimin was sitting. He silently collected it and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Jimin then took out the letter of commitment and tore it up in front of the man, who was pale with fear.

"Honesty is what keeps Namjoon's business afloat." - Jungkook said as he stood up. "Remember that the next time you want to delay a payment."

Jungkook and Jimin got into a black Mercedes Gelentwagen and pulled out of the parking lot. Their car was followed by a similar black Mercedes Viano. Jungkook drove the car, while Jimin checked his phone.

"How annoying are these assholes." - Jimin broke the silence. Jungkook listened attentively, but he was thinking about his own. "It was only 100 million won, and it took so much time." - Jimin complained.

"Yoongi asked us to do it, otherwise Namjoon would have been angry. You know he likes when to pay on time. Besides, I told you I could go by myself." - Jungkook explained why it was necessary.

"Whatever. I just wanted to walk my ass. It's been a long time since I've done this kind of work." - Jimin said and smiled.

"Then why are you complaining?" - Jungkook asked.

"I'm annoyed by these worthless bastards who still think they can bargain with us." - Jungkook nodded his head in agreement.

"What about the devices? Did you find out what happened to them? Why were they all corrupted?" - Jungkook asked, ending the previous conversation.

"Yes, I found out." - Jimin says slowly while texting someone. Jungkook waits patiently for a reply as he glances over at Jimin. He finishes and locks his phone. He gets comfortable in the seat and speaks. "Doohoon switched the devices when the shipment left Japan. He also forged the documents, so their logistics company was listed. It was stupid, to be honest. He should have just done it through a left-wing small company. But we would have known it was him anyway. With the help of the subsidiary, I figured it out in two minutes."

"I see. Do you know where the working devices are?" - Jungkook asked after listening to Jimin.

"I know. Niseko is on the island of Hokkaido." - He replied. Jungkook was a quick think. He could organize a trip there under the guise of some business with his Japanese partners. Pick up the devices and try to sell them again. And he'd deal with Doohoon as soon as he was done with this case.

"Listen, Jimin." - Jungkook wanted to share his thoughts. "What if I fly to Japan and return these devices and try to sell them? By myself." - Jimin smiles at Jungkook's idea.

"Are you ready to organize all this shit and fly to Japan?" - Jimin asks.

"You got any better ideas? If Namjoon finds out that Doohoon did this, everyone will get hurt. And me the most. I don't want to add another 50 million dollars to my debt." - Jungkook argues. Jimin agreed with Jungkook's statement.

"You're in luck, my dear friend." - Jimin suddenly says. Jungkook tries to understand what his words mean. "Yoongi came to visit yesterday. He told me that Doohoon's father is negotiating with our partners in Japan. He wants them to directly cover the transportation without us. In return, he's offering them a special deal - to transport their goods all over Asia for next to nothing." - Jungkook raises his eyebrows. Like father and like son. Why are they such a pain in the ass?

"Does Namjoon know?" - Jungkook asks.

"Yes. That's why Yoongi is asking me and Taehyung to go to Japan to check this information and meet with Kazuhiro Yamada. I can take you with me so you can do some work with the devices. You can also help us with the negotiations. The more you work on company business, the more you'll be in the boss’s good graces. Besides, it's Christmas next week, so we'll celebrate it by going skiing." - Jimin suggested.

Jungkook is really lucky. This business with the Japanese mafia member has come at the perfect time. He needs to use it to avoid the disaster that awaits him.

He's going to fly to Japan and he's worried that it might take a long time. Maybe 5 days or even a whole week. He can't leave you without him for that long.

He might try to put a guard around you, but you might react aggressively to that. Probably, he should be sent you to your parents for Christmas, but he's not sure if it will be safe either. There, Doohoon will be able to pursue you even more brazenly than here. He will try to gain your parents' trust by referring to school friendships. In addition, he can present himself to your parents as a cool heir to a large company, and then they will definitely lose their vigilance. Under no circumstances should you be left alone.

"Jimin-hyun." - Jungkook calls out. "You do realize that I can't leave Y/N alone in Seoul, given Doohoon’s sick antics. I have to take her with me." - Jimin thought seriously about Jungkook's words.

"Jungkook, it's risky. We won't be alone, and the cause we're traveling for is serious. I don't think Y/N will be safe there with us. Should we put a guard around her? I can order my brother to follow her." - Jungkook presses his lips together. He nervously plays with his lip piercing. No, that's not an option. He'll worry too much. If Doohoon finds out that Jungkook isn't around, he'll act. Jungkook doesn't like him being quiet and deceptively calm as it is.

"No. I’m taking she with. We'll pretend it's a Christmas trip to a ski resort. I'll be calm if she's in front of my eyes." - Jungkook stood his ground. Jimin quickly gave up. He knows Jungkook, if he's worried about something, he'll do it his way.

"Good. Then Y/N will come with us. She'll be happy, I think." - Jimin thought. "Want to sleep in the same room with her to make sure Doohoon isn't stalking her?" - He joked. Jimin looked up from the road and noticed Jungkook's sly smile.

"Good idea, Hyung. I couldn't think of a way to sleep in the same bed with her." - Jungkook replied sarcastically. Jimin laughed.

"Dude, this is a good opportunity to fuck her with romance and not just at home on the couch." - Jimin suggested. His voice is too cheerful.

"I'll think about it." - Jungkook only says.

"Go ahead and admit it to your best friend and favorite, Hyung. You're fucking her." - Jimin tries to find out the truth for the umpteenth time. He doesn't believe in Jungkook's excuses. The way he protects and cares for you speaks for itself.

"Why are you so interested in this? I don't care who you're fucking." - Jungkook replies.

"You live together and look like a couple. You should get together. She's a good girlfriend for you." - Jimin assures.

"A good girlfriend for me..." - Jungkook repeats his friend's words quietly. "But I'm a bad boyfriend for her." - He says with bitterness in his voice.

"She wouldn't turn her back on you if she knew who you really are. That's why I say you're perfect for each other. I've known her for a short time, though. I have a talent for reading people." - Jimin reassures Jungkook. He doesn't answer and continues to drive, heading to “Mono Corp”.

You are blinded by the daylight, which is enhanced by the abundance of snow around you. The frosty air of Niseko greeted you with a sharp gust of wind that made you wrap yourself even tighter in your down jacket. Even the warm scarf wrapped around your head couldn't protect you from the small snowflakes flying into your face.

The snow-covered mountain slopes sparkled around him, and the Art Nouveau buildings blended harmoniously into the winter landscape.

Jungkook confidently stepped to the black minivan, shaking the snow off his heavy boots. His gaze slid across the parking lot in nearly airport, where expensive cars were parked. The other guys followed him out: Jimin was adjusting his hat with a slight smile, Taehyung was holding his camera, taking pictures of the beauty around him, and Hoseok and Jin were having a fun argument about whether they would go skiing or save it for tomorrow.

You remember Jungkook coming home earlier than usual two days ago. He asked you about your plans for Christmas. You suggested that he go to Suwon. But he made you a better offer. Jimin wanted to go to a ski resort in Japan. So he suggested it to Jungkook and a few friends. Jungkook said he would go, but only if you went with them.

You'll be a little confused. Celebrating Christmas in Japan is very cool. But why is Jungkook so insistent that you go? That's suspicious. Maybe he's nervous about Doohoon again? Anyway, Jungkook carefully left you with no choice. So this year, instead of Suwon, you'll be celebrating Christmas in Niseko.

You've never seen anything like it before. Niseko looked like a postcard: a small town with narrow, snow-covered streets that resembled a fairy-tale maze.

The air was piercingly clean and fresh, making every breath seem cold and new. Here and there, neat houses with roofs that bent under the weight of the snow stood on the roadsides, and wooden signs in Japanese added charm to the local flavor.

The city center had a special atmosphere: the noise of coffee shops, the smell of hot chocolate and ginger, and the laughter of tourists and skiers returning from the slopes with red cheeks and shining eyes. Small shops with oriental souvenirs, red lanterns swaying in the wind, and soft light from the lamps created a warm, cozy aura in the middle of a snowstorm.

When you all arrived at the hotel, you felt heart sink. A tall wooden building stylized in traditional Japanese design, but with elements of modern design. The sleek dark glass facade that reflected the surrounding mountains and neon accents created the impression of an ultra-modern building that stood aloof in the snowy landscape. Large panoramic windows offered a view of the snow-capped mountains, which seemed so close that you could touch them with your hand.

Expensive SUVs were parked at the entrance, under a wide canopy, and hotel staff in matching black coats were helping guests with their luggage.

"Not bad." - You muttered, gazing at the luxury that seemed a little cold, but alluring.

The guys left the minivan and you set off to checking into the rooms. It had been a long journey and you were tired.

Inside, the atmosphere was completely different. The hotel greeted you with warm light and high-tech style, combining metal structures, mirrored ceilings and soft furniture in muted colors.

In the center of the lobby was a huge installation in the form of a waterfall - water flowed smoothly over the glass, creating a quiet, soothing noise. The walls were covered with large LED panels with animated landscapes - either starry skies or snow-capped peaks that looked almost real.

You turned your head in different directions, looking around and admiring every detail. This hotel is so luxurious, you didn't expect to live there during holidays. A night here must cost a fortune.

But you were even more embarrassed when you were escorted to the floor where it turned out that only the six of you would be staying.

You were taken up to the VIP floor, where there were three presidential suites. It seemed to be a completely closed floor only for very important guests. You were wildly uncomfortable with this luxury.

You were put in the apartment with Jungkook. Taehyung wanted to suggest that you stay with him, but when he saw Jungkook and Jimin's angry looks, he agreed that you would be more comfortable with your best friend.

The lux apartment was big. It was twice as big as Jungkook's apartment. The interior was minimalist but expensive: gray walls, black furniture with metal elements. There were two separate bedrooms, two bathrooms, a large living room, a sort of dining room that smoothly transitioned into a living room, an office, and a dressing room. On the wall, like in the lobby, there was a screen with landscapes that changed depending on the settings.

You walked around these rooms and didn't understand why everyone decided to live here.

Jungkook met you in the living room in a confused state. He brought in your luggage and came closer. He put his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. Finally, you were alone with no prying eyes.

Your mind was a little foggy. Jungkook's lips and tongue distracted you from the pressing questions that were swarming in your head like bees in a hive.

When you had enjoyed the kiss enough, you decided to ask.

"Kook... this place so expensive. We could have checked into a regular hotel." - You said.

"Why, you don't like it here?" - Jungkook was surprised.

"No. I really like it here. It just seems too expensive. It feels like we're accompanying the president." - You joked.

"It's not the most expensive hotel here. But it's Jimin and Hoseok's favorite place to stay. They vacation here every year." - Jungkook was almost lying. They don't vacation here every year, but they come every time they meet with their Japanese partners. "Don't worry about the money. Just relax." - Jungkook reassures you. You smile and relax. You have to ask Jimin where he gets the money for such a vacation every year.

Jungkook let you go and went to the things that were already in the room. You decided to go to the window. The view was so breathtaking that you could hardly contain your excitement when you saw the snow-covered slopes and the illuminated streets of Niseko shining in the evening light. The huge panoramic window offered a view of the main mountain of the town, whose peak was hidden in the clouds.

But there was something that made you absolutely delighted. It was the jacuzzi on your floor. It was not just a jacuzzi, but a real mini-pool with warm steaming water surrounded by black tiles. It took up almost half of the terrace, and it offered a fantastic view of the mountains, snow-covered forests, and distant ski slopes illuminated by night lights. When you were looking at it with Jungkook, Jimin and Jin, you realized that you couldn’t swim in it. You didn't know there would be a Jacuzzi, so you didn't bring a bathing suit.

"Kook..." - You grabbed Jungkook when he was a little in front of you. Jimin and Jin were looking around the bar behind you.

"What's wrong baby?" - Jungkook turned his head.

"You didn't tell me there was going to be a jacuzzi and I didn't know. I didn't bring my bathing suit." - You said disappointedly looking at the water.

"I'm going to go to the centre city now. Jimin asked me to go with him on business. I'll buy you one, it's no problem." - Jungkook reassured you. You were instantly happy.

"Really? Why didn't I think of that?" - You complained. "Maybe I'll go with you and choose for myself..." - You suggested, but Jungkook interrupted you.

"No. I'm sorry, baby, but we're going to be gone for a long time. We'll be back in the evening..." - You trailed off. "You better get some rest from the road, and we'll all go to a restaurant in the evening. Just tell me what color the swimsuit should be, or better yet, send me a picture." - Jungkook says and leaves without waiting for an answer. You look at him. Did he come here to work or to rest? Is he hiding something again?

"How long will you be gone?" - You ask, throwing it at his back.

"Until the evening, probably. Are you hungry?" - Jungkook suddenly stops and turns to you.

"No." - You reply shortly.

"If you want, order room service. Don't be sad, we'll be back soon." - Jungkook throws in a final word and the three of them leave the terrace, leaving you alone.

You spent most of the day in your room. You tried to sleep from the road, but it didn't work. You called your parents and you talked about the road and you told them that Jungkook had brought you to a nice hotel.

After you talked to your parents, Taehyung and Hoseok came to visit you. You together talked a little about the resort. Hoseok told you that the food here is great and there are many interesting things to do. You were interested in talking to Hoseok. He was nice and smiling all the time.

You were introduced to Hoseok and Jin at the airport when you arrived with Jungkook. Hoseok and Jin are older than Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. All three of them were polite and respectful talks to their oldest.

Although if you looked at Jin, who was the oldest in your group, you had the feeling that he was the youngest. He was constantly making strange but very funny jokes, and Hosok was bursting out laughing every time. You could see that all the guys were very warm with each other and you could even feel they’re like a family.

You were introduced as Jungkook's best friend. Taehyung wanted to make a joke about you and your relationship, that it was on the verge of being serious, but he got a punch in the ribs from Jimin and fell silent.

It was interesting for you to meet new people, especially Jungkook's friends, who turned out to be a lot. And it seems they are not just friends. They were his close friends. Were they all connected by work, or did Jungkook know some of them much earlier? You wanted to know absolutely everything.

When the sun began to set outside, you realized that the room was very boring. Taehyung and Hoseok left, and you spent the rest of the evening watching TV. But it was still very boring. You decided that you would take a walk around the hotel, maybe find something interesting to do until Jungkook and Jimin came back.

Just as you were about to leave the room and headed for the front door, Jungkook walked into the apartment. He was looking at you in surprise, realizing that you were going somewhere. He was holding a black bag with a Mitsukoshi emblem on it, and another black bag which he threw it over his shoulder.

"Going somewhere?" - Jungkook asked as he approached you.

"I wanted to go for a walk." - You said. Jungkook stopped one step away. "You're back sooner than I expected." - You smiled. You were glad that he had already arrived.

"I bought a swimsuit for you." - Jungkook says and hands you a black bag. You mentioned that you didn't send him a photo, which means he bought it to his taste. I wonder what it looks like. Your smile grows even wider and you eagerly take the package in your hands. You walk over to the couch and sit down. You pull out the swimsuit and look at it.

It is a black two-piece swimsuit with an asymmetrical design. The top has one wide strap on one shoulder. There is also an additional horizontal stripe below the chest line. The lower part of the swimsuit is a high-waisted thong that emphasizes the waist.

This swimsuit looks very sexy. You look over at Jungkook, who smiles smugly.

"When you picked out this swimsuit for me, you must have forgotten that we're not alone. Will you be okay with me showing my ass to all the guys?" - You asked ironically.

"Who says they'll all be there when you're in a bathing suit?" - Jungkook asked you. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"You're not going to ban them from the terrace. What if they want to take a Jacuzzi at the same time as me?" - You argued.

"Then let them look at you. I don't mind. You don't have to wear a burka just because of me." - Jungkook replied. You smiled. Well, if Jungkook doesn't mind, that's fine. But you know one hundred percent that he will be jealous of you.

He could have bought you a less revealing swimsuit, but if you already have this one, you don't have to worry. You didn't really want to swim with everyone else, but if it happens, it looks like you'll be in the water until everyone else leaves.

"And you won't be jealous of me?" - You ask, hugging Jungkook's neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and smiles a centimeter from your face.

"I think I'm going to die of jealousy." - Jungkook confesses. You laugh.

"You chose this, so it's your fault." - You say. Jungkook can't stand so close to you without kissing you. So in a moment, your smile disappears under your friend's lips. You feel his tongue, his sweet lips, and moan softly at the sensations.

"Let's go to the jacuzzi. I want to see that swimsuit on you." - Jungkook suggests, pulling away from your lips.

"But the guys are here. We can't go alone." - You warn.

"They're not here. They're gone on business." - Jungkook reassures you.

"Business? Did you come here to work or to rest?" - You said with a bit of dissatisfaction.

"They went to buy equipment for tomorrow's descent from the mountains. I met Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jin in the parking lot when I arrived." - Jungkook explained.

"And Jimin? Did you come without him?" - You ask. Jungkook smiles. You are so inquisitive.

"He met his friend at the mall and went for coffee. I didn't want to sit with them, so I came to you." - Jungkook answered your question. You were happy to have all the answers.

"So can we sit in the jacuzzi together?" - You asked.

"Yes. We have time until they all come back. Go get dressed, I'll change too and I'll wait for you there." - Jungkook says and lets you go.

You go to the terrace, which contains a huge jacuzzi, more like a swimming pool. The light is low, and the sun is setting outside. It paints the tops of mountains and houses red and it's a magical sight.

Jungkook is sitting in the water. His hair is wet and drops of water are running down his face. It looks like he's been taking a dip. Steam is coming out of the tub, and the terrace itself is stuffy. You can feel the steam enveloping your body as soon as you get inside.

Jungkook watches you as you approach. You take off your robe and find yourself wearing only a swimsuit. It fits you perfectly, emphasizing your lush and appetizing forms.

Jungkook looks at you greedily, biting his lip. He bites his piercing to quench the desire he has for you in your swimsuit.

You enter the water, feeling how hot it is. It instantly gives you goosebumps.

When you are completely in the water, you close your eyes. The hot water relaxes your body and you feel that all the tiredness that you had somewhere disappears. You open your eyes and meet Jungkook's attentive gaze. This lasts for a while and then he swims towards you. The sun is hiding behind him and you are impressed by this picture.

Jungkook swims up and captures you in his arms.

"Jungkook!" - You protest. "What if someone comes in..." - You warn, but you don't finish your sentence because Jungkook is already kissing you. You feel his strong body pressed against you in the water. You wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him back. You have an uneasy feeling. Anyone can come to the terrace and see you kissing. Jungkook grabs your tongue and sucks on it. You press closer to his body and feel his hands on your buttocks. He squeezes them, but the pressure is not great because of the water.

You pull away first, because the fear of being caught red-handed is stronger than your desire.

"I want to fuck you." - Jungkook says. You smile. Of course you want to, but not here.

"I want you too. But we're not going to have sex here." - You say.

"Then let's go to the bathhouse." - He suggests. This option is more attractive. You look at his handsome face and you are already burning to do it.

"Let's wait until the evening and do it in bed." - You suggest. But Jungkook doesn't hear you. He grabs your hand and leads you away from the water. You run after them, protesting.

Your body is steaming, red from the hot water. Jungkook's body is as hot as yours. He is wearing a pair of swimming trunks. He drags you into the bathhouse, which is quite large, and immediately closes the door and pounces on you with kisses. You respond with no less passion.

Jungkook's hand squeezes your buttocks hard. You feel yourself getting wet. Jungkook is pressing down on you with his whole body. His cock is pressing against your pussy and you want him to fuck you.

Jungkook breaks the kiss to go down on your neck. He kisses you carefully so as not to leave any marks. His hand simultaneously hooks the strap of your swimsuit top and lowers it around your waist. Your breasts are exposed, and Jungkook hurries to pay them proper attention.

You don't stand idle either. While he's busy kissing your nipples, you slide your hand into his trunks and find his length. You feel his glans and caress it with your finger. You feel the lubricant leaking from the end on your fingers and his cock twitches. You pull his swim trunks off, leaving them just above his knees, and pump your hand up his aroused length.

Jungkook feels your hand and stops kissing your breasts. He leans his head against your shoulder with a guttural moan and steals his hand somewhere near your head to enjoy your handiwork.

You pump his cock with quick strokes and feel its length harden with each movement. In the moment, you let go of his cock and touch his balls with your fingers, stroking them lightly. He hisses somewhere near your ear. You smile and turn your head to him and whisper in his ear.

"Let me suck your cock." - Your voice is seductive, gentle. Jungkook looks up at you with a blurred gaze and smiles defiantly. It means he's agree.

You sit down on a bench in the bathhouse. It's not high, and it's just perfect for Jungkook to stand comfortably in front of your face. You salivate at the sight of his swollen, erect cock. It's right in front of your mouth as Jungkook takes off his boxers and spreads his legs to make it comfortable for him to stand.

You lick your lips to get them wet and take Jungkook's length in your hands. He stops you for a second and leans in to kiss you one last time before you start blowjob. He kisses only your lips and then runs his tongue along your lower lip. Then he lets go and you get to work.

First, you lick the salty pre-cum that drips from the end of his cock. You take only the head into your mouth and pump your head a few times. Jungkook moans somewhere above your head. He is enjoying your warm, friendly mouth. He holds the back of your head with his hand and looks down at your lips, which perfectly envelop his cock.

Then you plunge his length deeper into your mouth and move your head back and forth. Saliva collects in your mouth and runs down your chin and out the corner of your mouth. You breathe deeply through your nose and try to take Jungkook's cock further into your mouth. He moans from above and the low bass makes you leak onto your trunks.

Jungkook grabs your hair and, like the first time, tilts your head to slide down his cock better. He's getting hard, and you can feel it with your tongue. But your jaw already hurts. Jungkook's cock is so big that you have to open your mouth wide, and your jaw gets tired and starts to hurt.

You think you can hold out until Jungkook comes, but he has other plans for you. He takes you off his cock, holding you by your hair. You look at him with innocent eyes, trying to understand what he wants.

"You suck my cock so well, baby. But I want to have your little pussy." - He says. You wipe away the saliva that has stained your face. Jungkook sits down next to you and takes your hand.

He makes you stand up and picks you up and puts you between his legs. He takes off your swim trunks and touches your labia with his hands. He swears at your excessive wetness. He puts his fingers in your entrance with one hand. With the other, he caresses your swollen clit.

You grab Jungkook's shoulders and try to stand on your feet. You moan with pleasure and Jungkook's skillful movements.

"Come on, baby, sit on my cock." - Jungkook invites you in a friendly manner. You don't have a condom and it might be risky. Jungkook must be reading your mind and is quick to reassure you. "I'll get you off in time." - Your friend assures you.

You agree and spread your legs to sit on top of him.

Jungkook holds his cock in his hands and guides it toward your entrance.

"Remember to be careful. Take your time and go slowly." - Jungkook says, tilting his head back to look at your face. His care was sweet.

You hold onto his shoulders as you lower yourself onto his cock. You bite your lip to hold back the slight pain and the feeling of his length inside you. You'll never get tired of this feeling.

When you've swallowed Jungkook's cock completely, you sit for a while to get used to it. Chonguk kisses your lips to fill the pause.

Just when you want to start moving, you hear someone's voice.

"Is someone here?" - You hear Jimin's voice. You are terrified. You squeeze Jungkook's shoulders. Your eyes are like 10 wons.

"Be quiet." - Jungkook whispers to you. He sees your scared eyes and tries to calm you down. He holds your buttocks in his hands and squeezes them to keep you still. It's a good thing Jungkook closed the door to the bathhouse.

You look at Jungkook with big eyes, and you hear your own heartbeat. Maybe a minute passes, maybe more, and you hear only silence. It looks like Jimin has left.

"Should we go? Let's finish this later tonight?" - You suggest in a whisper. But Jungkook is against it. He raises his eyebrows and whispers in displeasure.

"How am I going to leave with a hard-on?" - You look at his expression for a second and laugh softly. Jungkook doesn't share your mirth. He's not leaving this bathhouse until your pussy makes him come.

"Don't be mad, sweetie. I wasn't thinking. Let's finish the adventure ride quickly." - Jungkook laughs at your joke, and without warning, he shoves you hard. You scream in surprise and dig your nails into his soft body.

You get used to the sensations and start jumping on his lap too. His cock plunges deep with every movement. You feel dizzy with pleasant pleasure. You moan softly.

"My good girl." - Jungkook whispers into your neck. "Are you feeling good?"

"Yes." - You exhale.

"Come on my girl, cum on my cock." - Jungkook urges you. You speed up your movements and do as he asks. You feel yourself cumming with fierce pleasure. Jungkook continues to fuck you so that he can come too.

When he feels close, he grabs your hips and lifts you up sharply. You lift off his lap to a small height. You fall a little further onto his lap and Jungkook cums on his stomach. You watch breathlessly as he stops ejaculating. His semen runs down his stomach and he breathes rapidly. You lock eyes and both of you smile.

"It's fucking amazing!" - Jungkook says, louder than he should be. You hiss at him.

"Keep your voice down." - You complain. He smiles and takes your neck, pulling you into a kiss. You soften when his lips are against yours.

"You go first, I'll get cleaned up." - Jungkook says as he lets you go and you stand up from his lap.

Like that cat without a sound, you find yourself in the room almost instantly without meeting anyone on your way. Feeling like you've just had an orgasm, you hurry to the bathroom and take a quick shower. You're happy because you just had the most incredible sex with Jungkook. It's a beautiful place with a cozy atmosphere. Your mood is just perfect and nothing seems to be able to spoil it.

You put on a warm mint-green knit sweater with a deep V-neck and voluminous braids, and pull dark gray straight jeans with a high rise over your hips. You decide that you're going to wait for Jungkook in the room.

You're just clicking on your phone when you hear something fall in the next room. This is the room where Jungkook is supposed to be sleeping. You put the phone down and go to the room.

You walk in and run your eyes around. Everything seems to be in place and nothing has fallen. But suddenly, a slightly open closet door catches your attention. Something black looks out of it.

You approach the closet and notice that it is a bag. It is large and seems heavy. Somewhere on the side it is propped up by another bag, similar to the one you saw in Jungkook's hands. Most likely, this bag has moved the big one with its weight.

You grab the fallen bag by the handles, but it is too heavy. The sound of metal reaches your ears. You unzips, want to what could be so heavy in that bag.

You are frozen. The contents of this bag scare you to say the least. Hell, it scares the hell out of you.

Weapons. This bag is filled to the brim with weapons of all kinds. From small pistols to assault rifles. You open the bag wider and see ammunition, too. A lot of ammunition. Knives and what looks like stun guns. You pick up one of the pistols with trembling hands and look at it with eyes full of horror. It is heavy and cold.

You feel panic filling every cell in your body. Why does Jungkook have so many guns? Is he selling them? Is he going to kill someone with these weapons? Isn't a trip to Japan just about celebrating Christmas?

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[just-some-random-blogger]

Safe Keeping | 1

Part 2

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut (wedding night, loss of virginity, mild dub con, PIV, biting, praise kink), emotional unavailability, The Hound being abrasive, baby fever, typos, etc.

A/N: what do we say to big scary murderers? all together now: i can fix him. the smut is at the end so just keep scrolling to the bottom if you wanna pass (: originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx

A collective gasp resonates in the hall upon the utterance of the proclamation. The blonde boy basks in the reaction. I release a breath, hand on my churning belly, as I stand there in front of the Iron Throne. The agitation that filled me threatened to spill from my lips when I curtsied to the king. But by the gods, I manage to mutter, "you have honored me with such a decision, your grace."

King Joffrey smirks, "yes," he shifts in his seat, "I have." He stands from the throne and raises a beckoning hand, "dog!"

All eyes turn to one corner.

The rustle of fabric and the clink of steel fill the hall. I watch as he walks towards me. I watch the large man, clad in darkness from head to toe, hand on his hilt, face adorned with a large burn, come to my side but pay me no mind. He turns to his king, "your grace."

"My king," queen Cersei mutters to her son, "he is a member of the Kingsguard, he cannot--"

"My word is law, is it not?" the boy says.

His mother looks at him then us, and says no word.

Joffrey grins, "I present your new ward," he raises his arms, "orphaned at war, parents and brothers dead, house left with no heirs. She turned to me for counsel," he points to his chest, "for she would die on her own. And now I give her you," he clasps his hands, "to have and to hold in holy matrimony."

The room is dead silent.

"Consider it a gift for your loyal service," he turns to me, "a rather generous one, given your infliction," he turns back to him.

The man on my side nods once.

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes."

I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine father."

A loud and shrill laugh echoes in the chamber, demanding everyone's attention. Joffrey wheezes until he's red and tumbles back into his metal chair. He catches his breath and nods, "he- mmm, he would," he chuckles.

The king settles himself and waves us off, "go forth and make arrangements then, my lady. Your protector awaits."

I flinch at the way the wooden door is opened. Sandor stands before me, in a dress shirt and a scowl, leaning against the opening of his chamber door. I look away and curtsy, "good morrow, Lord Sandor," I steal a quick glance at Lucy by my left, "I've had my handmaiden prepare f-"

"Hound." 

I lift my eyes to his face. The sour expression he held is amplified by the scar on his side. His eyes burn into me. "They call me the Hound," he grunts, "y'know that?"

I clasp my hands in front of me and open my mouth before muttering, "yes. Yes, I do."

"Then save me of this lord business," he straightens up and walks off inside his chambers. I watch him as much as I can from where I stood outside his room. I pipe up when he is no longer in eye's view, "may I come in?"

"Door's open, isn't it?"

I look at Lucy hesitantly, motioning she stay outside. I push the door wider and walk in, seeing Sandor was now getting dressed.

I stare at him for a moment, pressing my hands closer together, "would you like for me to he-"

"I'm not the king who has a bitch for every task."

I clench my jaw at his icy words.

Sandor begins to do his clasps, "why are you here, girl?"

He does not look at me after asking. I purse my lips before replying, "I am heading to the tailor to pick fabrics and-"

"Why isn't the tailor coming here?" he asks, still focused on dressing himself.

Sandor finally turns to me after fixing his top. I look up at him, feeling a dread build in my belly, "I wanted to go outside."

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head. He takes steps closer.

My lips part. I blurt, "the palace is too stuffy."

"Stuffy?" he retorts, "I wonder how large your house is if you find it stuffy here."

I shake my head, "I did not mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?" Sandor says, tilting down to look upon me once he is close enough. I am unable to withhold myself from stepping back. I mutter, "there are many... looming presences. It's overwhelming."

"Looming, she says," he grumbles. "Well, little lady, you're going to be shackled to me, and I'm shackled here. You'll have to get used to these looming presences."

I turn away from him and take a breath. Must he speak to me like I'm a child?  "I understand that."

"No, I don't think you do," he says.

I look back at him. His gaze is as hard as ever.

"The moment a thing like you is outside the castle walls, thieves and rapists will fight to getcha," he walks off, "get your footman to escort you right in front of the shop and back."

I furrow my brows as he heads to the door, "wait, what about you?"

He stops right in front of Lucy and turns back, "what about me?"

"I'm going to the tailor to be fitted a dress for our wedding," I explain, "I came here to bring you along with me," I point to the woman at his side, "Lucy has made food for you to-"

"Why would I go with you to a tailor?"

Will he ever let me finish speaking? I hold back my annoyed expression, "you need to be fitted for your wedding at-"

"I'm not your dress up dolly," he grumbles, face pinched in disgust, "I'll be wearing my armor and that's that."

We stare at each other for a moment. I watch as Lucy glares at Sandor from behind. I clench my jaw tightly before curtsying, "as you wish, my lord-"

"Hound," he barks.

I look at him in shock, "you wish me to call you hound?"

He narrows his eyes and scoffs, "it's what I am-- what you're marrying, isn't it?"

I debate his words, unsure if he meant it or if it was a trick, a reason for him to be angry at me, "may I call you by name?"

He feels disdain burn up from his belly to his throat, "what? Too good to admit that-"

"That is not what I said!" I quip hotly.

The hulking man is rendered silent. He did not expect that. Still, he decides not to respond and walks away.

I scoff when he does so.

Lucy makes a face at him before coming up to me, offering a remorseful look, "he's a brute, milady! Rugged and ugly and mean!"

"Lucy," I warn as she takes my arm and escorts me out. She closes the door on our way and makes a face, "he's a thickheaded oaf!" she glares behind her to no one, "he's lucky-- blessed by all gods to be promised to a lady like you, and he treats you as though you were the degene-"

"Lucy!" I quip, yanking her by the arm.

She is finally silenced because of this. We both halt in our spot.

I hiss, "if someone were to hear you, if he were to hear you..." I shake my head, "he is my lord now. He is your lord."

Lucy grumbles.

"If it could be, I would not marry anyone," I tell her under a hushed voice, "but you know that cannot be."

We begin to walk down the hall. I continue, "I had thought I'd end with an old lord, eager to inherit my estate and esteem," I shake my head, "shocking as it was to be thrown like a bone to him..." I look out the open windows, "at least... the Hound... can protect me," I look back to Lucy, "protect us."

Lucy's face falls solemn. We hold each other's gaze for a moment. She then offers, "you're right. Them forest monsters will cower in fear at the mere sight of the 'ound."

We head to the castle gates, "do you think the guards will let us-"

"We'll walk, Lucy," I reply.

"What?! But the Hound said-"

"He expected me to have footmen and you know well that I don't. I do not think it would be appropriate to instruct the servants here to go out of their way for us. Besides, the shop is not far, you know this."

"But, Lady, I- I can drive the carriage again!"

I shake my head, "don't be ridiculous, Lucy. Do you know how silly we'd look galloping in a carriage for just a few streets down the city?"

Lucy is unable to talk me into any of her ideas. We ask the guards let us through the gate then walk to the tailor.

Once there, I am greeted by the tailor and immediately attended to.

Lucy and I go through the fabrics together. I laugh at her sentiment that all the fabrics would look good on me.

"Here," the tailor says, placing a strip of fabric on my shoulder, "I think this would suit you well, lady."

I look at myself in the mirror just as Lucy says, "that's it! That's the one!"

"Lucy," I chuckle, "you've said that about all the fabrics thus far."

"And I meant it every time!" she retorts, "but this one, this one is truly better than all the rest."

I look at myself in the mirror, "this one is actually quite pretty," I agree, "it's a very pale shade of red, but I quite enjoy it."

"It is all the rage with the ladies at court," the tailor says.

I smile, "very well. I should like to have this for my wedding dress."

Lucy squeals and applauds.

"A fine choice, my lady," the tailor nods and finishes measuring me.

The moment Lucy and I exit the tailor shop, we are scared by a loud holler. We turn to our side and see the mighty Hound, leaned against the wall. He straightens up and marches towards me.

"My Lord Sand-"

"What did I tell you about going outside the castle?" he barks, glaring down at me. His nostrils flare. His jaw clenches. My stomach rolls.

I give him a look and push Lucy behind me, "there was no dange-

"That's what you think. But tell me, what do little girls know but to play dress up?"

I whimper when he grabs my arm and drags me like an unruly child all the way back to the palace. I do not try to fight him. I know I will only hurt and tire myself if I do.

"Maybe I should let the peasants have at you," he mutters, side-eyeing me hotly, "teach you a lesson."

"Let her go!" Lucy shrieks.

He threatens to strike her when she tires to pull me away. I shout in protest. Sandor huffs and decides to simply continue dragging me.

The moment we are past the gates, he releases me roughly, making me yelp. Lucy grabs my arm and checks if I am injured.

Sandor eyes every one of the men present, "I'll make a jump rope out of the entrails of whoever fucking lets her out again."

The Hound storms off, leaving me and my handmaiden reeling and everyone else uneasy.

Sandor walks down the halls across the keep. He notices a guard looking down from the window. He wonders if he should push him for no other reason than the fact that he can.

He doesn't. He goes downstairs. He furrows his brows at the sight of men huddled together, looking at something in the gardens. He realizes it's most likely the same thing the man upstairs was looking at.

He walks their way, because he has to anyway, but is, frankly, uninterested in whatever the fuck has these men gawking.

On his way to his insufferable master, he passes Baelish, who is seemingly chipper to see him. The man smiles, "greetings, Hound."

The Hound ignores him.

"Pretty little thing in the garden. A darling flower, ready to be plucked," Baelish smirks as he watches the large man pass, "our king truly blessed you with such a match."

His expression does not change but his ears do ring at that as he walks down the hall.

He wills himself not to think of it, Littlefinger is a leech, but by the end of the day, his words are still ringing in mind. How irritating it was, suddenly, that he did not look at whatever the fuck it was those men were gawking at.

He's fuming at the sight of more men flocked by the garden when he reaches that hall again.

"OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!" he growls, thrashing past anyone who was slow and stupid enough not to get out of his path in time.

Sandor's eye twitches as when he sees what the commotion is all about.

"So, the princess said to him, 'away with you. I would rather never feel your kiss than yearn for something I will never feel again.' " I read the last section of the page. I flip to the next part and offer a smile to the children leaned on my lap listening to my story.

"Why would she tell him to go away?" Benji asked me from my right.

Lucy, beside him, chuckles and brushes his hair back,

I offer, "well, the prince had to go away. I suppose the princess just wanted it to be done with."

To my left, Ophelia, the boy's younger sister, pushes the book in my hand down so that she can see the picture. I show it to her just as Benji says, "she should have kissed him."

I chuckle, "well, maybe she will. There are a few more pages le-"

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I gasp and look up. A protective form of ire burns through me at the sound of Sandor's words. The two siblings in my arm squeal at the sight of him and cower into my breast. I glare at him, "there are children here!"

"I can bloody see that," he looks down with contempt, "what? Are they your bastards?"

Lucy takes hold of the children.

"They are not bastards!" I rebut, "they are my childhood friend, Lady Deena's children, who, mind you, travelled far to King's Landing for our wedding!"

"I don't give a fuck about Lady Deenas or Lady Danas. Couldn't you have read to the rats in your damn chambers, girl?"

I give my handmaiden one look and, immediately, Lucy takes Benji and Ophelia along with their fairytale book. They scurry away to their chambers as the children clamor.

I stand from the stone fence we had been sat on, "we wanted fresh air."

"You wanted attention," the Hound quips.

I am wholly offended by his accusation. Now that I was standing alone in front of him, my confidence from having something to protect dwindles. I don't get to ask from whom he thought I wanted attention because he's soon berating me all over again. He quips, "does it please you to know all the guards in King's Landing want to fuck a baby into you?"

I am appalled by his venom.

He grabs me by the arm and begins hauling me off. A squeak spills from my lips at his brute force. Part of me wishes to fight back this time; I do not want him to humiliate me by dragging me around again. And yet I find myself unable to do anything more than latch my fingers into his iron grip, trying to at least loosen it.

Sandor, of course, does not budge.

"Is it a crime to read to children?!" I whine out in frustration, finding it immensely difficult to keep up to with his wide strides.

He does not make a sound, save the sound of his boots on the stone floors. I pant as we hike up the steps, yet still, I find myself explaining, "I would have done the same to our children!"

I do not see that Sandor reacts to this because I am too busy trying to match his pace.

I thank the gods when he finally releases me. When I catch my breath, I realize I am in front of the door to my chambers.

"Do not stroll around as if you actually live here," Sandor quips, raising a finger at me.

"But I do-"

"Last time I checked, you're not marrying into royalty," he cuts me off.

I watch the large man walk off right after speaking this. I rub my arm as I feel my eyes water. More than his heavy grip, I was once again hurt by his jagged treatment. My voice breaks as I shout out, "wou-ld you at least tell me what exactly I've done to have angered you so?!"

He does not slow, nor does he look over his shoulder when he barks back, "I don't want to see you fucking reading to those children again."

Needless to say, I crumble into a fit of tears the moment I get into my chambers.

When Lucy comes to my side on my bed, he curses the Hound and does her best to console me. She rubs my back as I weep my woes out into my pillow, "oh, Lucy, he doesn't just despise me, he despises children!"

Lucy scoffs, "why am I not surprised."

She regrets saying this when I turn to her with wet cheeks and bloodshot eyes. She gives a guilty expression, "milady, I-"

"That's all I ever wanted," I sniffle, "all I ever dreamed of-" my lips quiver, "being a mother. Having children. You know this."

Lucy bites her lips tightly as I continue to sob. She mutters, "pardon my foolish words, lady."

"Oh, what does it matter-" I rub my philtrum, "you're right. This is not a surprising development."

"You can still get him to give you his babes! Men like making babies, not really taking care of them. And of course, I would never leave your side. I would help you raise your darlings, protect them from him," she speaks sincerely. I knew her words meant to comfort me but in truth, I don't think they do.

It seems she can tell that, which is why she's apologizing all over again.

I shake my head and place my hand on her cheek, "it's alright, Lucy... you needn't worry... it's all... going to be alright.

Sandor and I look starkly contrasting at the altar. He is dark and brooding, clad in hard armor and a perpetual frown. I am bright and jittery, wrapped in pale reds and nervous smiles.

The septon binds our hands together in fabric. We turn to each other as we speak our vows.

My heart races when we are told to kiss. I suck in a breath and get on my tiptoes to reach his lips. I crane my neck up; he makes no effort to lean down in return. Still, our lips meet and in that moment, I am his.

The audience applauds us, the sound of King Joffrey's laugh is apparent even through it. Our wedding was not a grand event; the king wanted it to happen in haste, and I could not afford to make it a grand anyway. There were also not so many people in attendance, and yet it felt like the whole world was watching me in this moment.

The celebration feast that came after was terribly tedious and severely unenjoyable for me, and for Sandor. Everyone else seemed to enjoy the merrymaking though, namely the king, and I suppose that was enough.

I did nothing but smile and thank my guest from my seat next to Sandor. He did not speak to me, let alone anyone who came up to us with congratulations on their lips. All he did was eat. I suppose it could be worse. At least one of us could stomach eating at this moment.

The only life I felt was when I was introduced to a babe of one of the ladies. The sweetling had only seen 4 moons and she was as sweet as can be. She was so precious. I just had to hold her. I was inspired to even stand and frolic a bit with her in my arms.

Her mother and I conversed much about babies and child rearing. My stomach rolled in a mix of excitement, dread, anticipation, and worry all at once, knowing this was to be the next part of my life now.

I enjoyed all the stories she told me. I was flattered when she said I would be a great mother, for her child in my arms did not fuss one bit and she was known to be quite fussy. I giggled at all the wonderful memories she had with her other children who, she said, were even fussier than her daughter. I nodded solemnly at her advice in child birth and breastfeeding, making sure not to let a single word go unheard.

Unbeknownst to anyone, Sandor was watching this all from his spot with the cup of wine before him. He did not avert his eyes once; he watched each and every move.

Well, it was unbeknownst to everyone excluding Lord Baelish, who was rather amused by it all, which was why he decided to act.

"Lady Clegane," Lord Baelish comes up to me and raises a hand, "might you spare me a dance?"

I turn form the babe in my arms to him. I smile a small one, "I'm afraid my darling friend here makes me unwilling to do anything but coddle her."

The child's mother on my left laughs, as does Baelish. He links his hands together, "well, judging from your darling friend's temperament, I'd say you would be a fine mother."

"I agree," the lady says.

I grin from ear to ear, heart soaring at the sentiment, "I would like to be nothing more."

Baelish presses his lips into a smirk, "may the gods bless you with many children then," he raises his hands "and may they all take after your sweetness, grace, and beauty."

The way Baelish speaks those words were intentional, as was everything was with him. The comment leaves an air of tension between us. The man basks in it and decides his work is done here.

"I-It is kind of the king to assign a larger room," I muster up as I walk into my new chambers-- our new chambers.

Sandor follows after me, locking the door behind him. He hums, "I doubt it was the king that thought of it. It was probably the queen."

I stand by the end of the bed. I brush the sheets with my hand. I mutter a correction, "kind of her to think of us."

When I turn, my breath hitches at the sight of Sandor standing right behind me. I suck in a sharp breath as I take in his expression. His face is barely visible in the dark. I can only see as much as the moon allowed. Still, I can tell he is stoic, hard, and predatory. This was it.

My hands tremble. I fiddle with my fingers, "shall I-" I bring my palms to his chest plate, "help you out of your armor?"

Sandor does not respond to me.

"H-husband?"

He takes my hand, taking a shaky breath from my lips along with him. He leads me to his claps and shows me how to undo them before releasing my hand to do it myself. I continue to undo all the claps until his armor is off him. When he is left in his shirt and trousers, he snatches my wrists before I can undress him any further. I freeze in my spot.

My belly churns at his touch. It is reminiscent of the times he has dragged me by the arm, and yet the firm grip is a notch gentler. The way is brows furrow is barely visible because of his burns, but I see it. He leans down and his dark hair spills over his scar, "do you know what's going to happen now, little girl?"

My breath hitches. I take a moment to even my breathing before responding, "yes."

He hums and lifts his nose, "what's going to happen?"

"You're going to fuck me."

Sandor laughs lowly. I am shocked when he swipes his thumb on my lips, "filthy mouth."

I look up at him with wide eyes as his own rake me up and down. I feel incredibly self-conscious under his scrutiny. I want to push him away and hide under the sheets. Yet still, I am rendered frozen in my spot.

"Tell me honest, have you ever done this before?" he speaks rather softly.

I feel my body burn. I shake my head, unable to speak.

Sandor allows me a second. He believes it yet finds it hard to believe. "I would not judge you if you did," he adds.

I shake my head faster.

He draws out a deep breath, "no, of course you haven't--" he grabs my ribs and spins me around. The action makes my heart hammer. He pushes my hair to the side, over my shoulder. I squeak softly when he begins to undo the back of my dress. He completes his thought, "-- you're a good girl."

Though he was loosening my ties, I was finding it harder to breathe. He very soon slips my dress off my shoulders, leaving me in my shift. After doing so, he begins to remove the pins in my hair. It takes a while for him to accomplish it. I count the clinks that come from him dropping the clips onto the floor.

When he is done, he gently combs through my locks and lets my hair run loose. It was then he nudges me, "on the bed. On your back."

I shudder and crawl on the bed. I watch him take his shirt off the moment I lie on my back. I immediately turn away and close my eyes when I notice his bulge. His hands undo the string of his trousers.

I press my thighs together. I feel my heart pound. It pounds intensely between my legs.

"Aren't you curious to see what it looks like?"

I curl my legs up at his words.

I gasp and flinch when he grabs my ankles, my eyes ripping open to see what he was doing. He straightens my legs out and pulls me down; I gasp once more when he does so.

I catch sight of his opened trousers. I see the way the hair on his wide, battle-scarred chest trails down to the thick, dark hair beneath his navel. I see the imprint on his pants clearer. I shut my eyes again.

I hear him pull his trousers down. I feel the bed dip as he crawls over.

My hands dig into the sheets as he knocks my legs apart. I am passive and obedient; I make room for him. I can hear my pulse from my screwed eyes.

Goosebumps form on my skin when Sandor's hot, calloused fingers brush up my thighs. He lightly kneads my flesh. The action almost makes me moan. He stops and pushes my skirt up when he feels something by my hips, "where did you get this?"

I feel him ghost over the deep scar on my left hip. I cover my face in the crook of my elbows, "I was attacked."

He does not respond.

"That was the day my family died."

Sandor feels bad for asking. He feels a bit more when the thought does not prevent his cock from hardening. He adjusts his grip, hiking my shift up higher. His hands claw on my hips but only one remains. His mouth waters.

I gasp and slap my thighs close, or at least try to, when I feel him brush something firm and damp against my pulsing core. He uses the sheer size of him to prevent me from actually pressing my thighs together.

"Shh, shh, shh, shh-" he tuts, "this is for your own good. Believe me."

My toes curl and my hands dig into my pillow as he fondles with me. The sensation makes my body twitch and the wet squelching sound that pierces my ears fill me up with an unnamable sensation. Soon enough though, I feel myself become undeniably aroused.

My hips begin to roll and my back begins to arch.

Sandor grunts and licks his lips, loving every moment of his private show, "good girl."

His words strike up my belly like lightning.

Lewd sounds begin to dribble past my lips. I feel my body begin to tingle. The sopping sounds intensify.

"Feel good?" he asks, "you like it?"

I find no room to deny it. I instantly respond, "yes."

"Good," he trails off.

My grip on the pillows loosen when he begins to slow. I bring my hands to the side when he falls to a stop. Just as I am about to look down to see what was wrong, my heart races all over again when he hooks his fingers behind my knees and nestles between my thighs. He positions against me. I feel him guide his hardened length into my folds.

I let out a loud groan when he slips into my wetness. He grunts and cusses as he sinks down, balls deep. My nails claw at his shoulders. He pushes my knees back to the mattress. Surprisingly, the weight of him is not suffocating, in fact, it was welcomed... it was delicious.

I whine viscerally when he begins to buck his hips slowly.

"Mmm, fuck," he pants, "so fucking tight. So pretty and wet and warm, my sweet virgin."

My jaw drops at his words.

"My sweet lady wife," he growls, "all," he drags out, "mine."

My breath strains and escapes my throat hotly. My sounds match each of his thrusts; they are deep and lewd. Sandor's male ego is through the roof because it if. He slowly picks up the pace.

I am a mess of whines at the feel his manhood stretching and prodding into me. My body shivers every time he collides with the tender spot in me. It feels so good; it's nothing I've felt before.

Sandor grunts and shifts on his knees. He adjusts me beneath him like I weighed nothing, and maybe I didn't to him. I slip out a scream when he batters into me with such delicious force.

"Shhhhh," he hushes shakily, hands forcing my hips down in place so I didn't shoot off as he snapped his hips into me. With every hit of flesh, his stones knocking into me, his wet skin, slapping into my dripping folds, I feel my body burn and tighten more.

"Don't be too loud," he scolds emptily, for in truth, he would love it if he got something even louder. He leans lower, "wouldn't want you to wake all of King's Landing." But please do.

His words momentarily push sense into my mind. It doesn't last. I can barely mask my loud cries and he fucks into me. My nails dig into his scalp. He lets out a sound because of it.

Sandor shifts again. This time, his buries his face next to mine. He presses against me, chest to chest, grabs the bed frame with one hand, my knee with the other, and rams into me so hard, the bed creaks and knocks into the wall.

My eyes roll back and my open mouth latches onto his shoulder. I naturally then sink my teeth in is taut flesh. It does wonders to muffle my sounds but it pulls out some from Sandor.

"Gods, girl. Yeah," he heaves, "sink your," he gives two particularly rough thrusts, "fucking teeth into me."

My breathing grows erratic after this. An intense pressure begins to build in my belly.

"S-Sandor- Sandor-"

He hums and maintains his intense pace, "come girl. Just a bit more. Come around my cock like a good, dirty girl."

His words push me on the edge. I crumble and convulse beneath him exactly like it, a good, dirty girl. My voice is just as shaky as my thighs are. My body bursts into an intense, burning pleasure. 

My body drips in sweat and slick and spit and tears, all purely out of bliss. All the air is pulled out of my lungs as I fall into this feeling.

Sandor curses. His thrusts grow erratic. I would scream if I wasn't so winded and exhausted. He stabs so roughly into me, I flinch because it feels like he's hitting the very depths of my mind. Then, he breaks into a growl and I feel him throb so strongly until his movements come to a halt.

Once he is still, I am obliterated. I cannot move. I can only feel heat and pulsing. I feel terribly sticky and so full. I love every inch of it.

I sigh and lean into him. I can imagine now why many paid for this pleasure, why people had so many children. My fingers scratch into his nape. I rub my face against his cheek; I feel the texture of his burn. Sandor stiffens.

The next moment, he pulls away, and it was then I realized doing that, nuzzling into him, was obviously a mistake. I gasp at the sudden lost of contact, the emptiness. I watch him jump out of the bed, as if I was fire and I had burned him. I press my thighs together and push my skirt down, feeling shame wash over me as I watched him tuck himself into his trousers like he was eager to leave me.

And he looked exactly like he meant to leave me at this moment.

"Where are you going?" I ask him, but my voice is so small and unsure that he doesn't hear it.

He grabs his shirt and puts it on. He heads to the door, unlocks it quickly, and insults me by saying, "good night."