#Why she keeps being drawn in by the ideas being brought up

[reidgenius]

Low Pain Tolerance | S.R. x Reader

image by reidgif <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Word Count: 1.4k Category: angst, hurt/comfort? Warnings: commitment issues, wildly insecure!reader (it's really just me) A/N: I haven't written for Spencer before, so please excuse any OOC inaccuracies and be nice okay! I am a long-time lurker/admirer of the lovely @pathologicalreid and am writing this for her cutesy margovember event :) Song Inspo: Low Pain Tolerance by Abby Holliday

You never enjoyed running.

Still, that didn't stop you from doing it often. Whether it be on the job or in a relationship, you ran.

To catch a bad guy. To catch yourself before you fall. To stop something terrible before it happens... You ran.

In this instance, you found yourself running from Spencer Reid.

"Would you look at me? Please?" he pleaded.

You knew if you were to turn around that you'd see his glassy doe eyes and be drawn right back in. You knew your weaknesses, and he was certainly one of them. The biggest one. That's why you stayed put, staring at his bedroom wall.

"I can't, Spence." You meant to say it with finality, but it came out more as a whimper.

"You can't look at me, or you can't-"

"Neither. Both."

As the holidays approached, Spencer had mentioned the idea of the two of you making a trip out to Vegas. "Just for a day or two," he'd promised. Though there wasn't much he treasured about home, you knew that his mother was there, and that was more than reason enough.

This evening, he'd brought it up again after letting you avoid the topic for weeks.

"It's only a matter of time before you figure it out," you admit.

"Figure what out?"

"God, Spence, that I'm only bringing you down!" you nearly shouted, though you hadn't meant to. The anxiety took over. "I'm like... gahhh! I don't know how to do any of this, I-"

To your dismay, he let out a laugh as you finally turned to face him. A real, genuine laugh.

"Bringing me down?" He looked at you with an earnest amusement. "Honey, I don't think you realize what you-"

"I'm scared. Okay? Is that what you wanted me to admit? That I'm scared of meeting her?" A single tear gushed down your cheek.

His brows knit in concern as he quickly thought of ways to disprove the common fears surrounding schizophrenia and it's manifestations.

"Baby, schizophrenia doesn't ma-"

"Dammit Spencer, it's not about that! It's- I..."

You found yourself stumbling over your words.

"I don't care about her diagnoses!" you laughed. (Of course, you did care, but that wasn't what was scaring you.) "I'm scared of this!" you said, waving your hands between the two of you. "I don't want to rush it. I don't want to get her hopes up..."

You let your legs give way to sit on the floor against the wall, your head in your hands, mumbling to the cold hardwood.

"I don't want to get my hopes up."

There was it. That was the truth.

You weren't used to it. You weren't used to someone asking you how your day was and really caring. You weren't used to the notion that a man would want to wrap himself around you at night and keep you close. You'd never been one to draw much attention from men. Or women. Or anyone, really.

Naturally, you figured that there must be something deeply and inherently flawed in you. Something Spencer had yet to discover.

So, being with him was... terrifying. You were constantly waiting and wondering when he'd conclude that you weren't as pretty as he initially thought, or as witty, or as intelligent, or kind, or...

And it would only be cruel to drag Diana into this. To have her think that perhaps her son had found his person. To have her thinking that she might be meeting her future daughter-in-law. It felt cruel to yourself, in some twisted way, to pretend that this was all going to last.

Spencer was typically a fast thinker, but your admission had the cogs in his brain working overtime. You were afraid of him? Of your relationship?

He padded over to join you on the floor, keeping a little distance so as not to scare you.

"Get your hopes up? You don't-" he gulped, "I mean... you don't think we're gonna- that this is gonna work out?"

Still speaking to the floor, you sigh, "I don't know, Spence."

You were exhausted. Incessantly feeling like you're on the brink of being "found out" can do that to a person. It's not that Spencer hadn't done all the right things. No, he was the perfect partner. But therein lied the issue. He was perfect. And, in your opinion, you were far, far from it.

You took a deep breath through your tears.

"I don't think I can keep doing this."

Confusion. Utter shock. Things had been going so well with you the past 8 months. Spencer immediately began to wrack his brain combing through all the possible mistakes he could've made. Did he raise his voice with you? Had he forgotten some big milestone? Was he not giving you enough?

"Honey I-" he gathered himself, placing a hand on your thigh, "I'm so sorry. Can I ask... what makes you say all this?"

Though you were reluctant, you figured that now was as good a time as any.

"Spencer. I am not good for you! Good enough for you!" With each point, you illustrated by raising a finger, "I am impulsive and I complain and I get weird sometimes when you touch me and I can be a massive bitch and I never know how to-"

"Woah, woah, woah-" He snuck up closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and placing his head atop yours, all while you kept rambling. "Why in the world do you say that? Not good enough for me? If anything it's me who isn't deserving of you..."

"No, you-"

He stopped you in your tracks just by saying your name in that beautiful way he does. Like its covered in honey and dripping with admiration.

"You are everything. You may think those things about yourself but I certainly don't." His thumb caressed your bare skin so carefully as he continued, speaking slowly so as to allow the words to really sink in. "You are the most generous person I've ever encountered. You care so deeply about people you love. You are courageous and willing to try all the weird foods I suggest even though you really don't want to." He smirked a bit at that one. "You have taken everything that life has thrown at you and navigated it with grace. You really are just... you're it. You're her. You're the girl - the woman - I've always hoped would come my way but never dreamed actually would. Honey, I've figured out everything I need to know when it comes to how I feel about you."

You sat there, warm under his embrace, pondering his words as he spoke. It's nothing he hasn't said before, granted, in much less grand and emotionally charged ways. But it was like you were really hearing it for the first time. You wanted so badly to believe him.

"I love you," he continued. "I love you so much that sometimes I am afraid of myself. Of what I'd do for you. You, god, you make me so much better."

"I love you, too. Too much," you squeaked out.

"No. Not too much." He leaned back to encourage you to look up at him. "You know I really mean all that right? Just the way you are. Quirks included?"

"I guess. And now I'm just self-conscious that I am so self-conscious..."

"You say that as if I'm not the exact same way!" he chuckles, trying to make light of what is clearly a shared wound. You'll deal with that later. Together, preferably. "Please, trust me. Do you trust me?"

And you did. You trusted Spencer with every cell in your body and hair on your head. There was nobody else you'd ever been so confident in. So, you nod against his chest as your tears begin to subside.

"Good. Now why don't we move this party up into the bed?"

"No offense, Spencer, but the last thing I want right now is to f-"

"No no no nooope! Not that, babe," he laughed. "Just wanna lay with you 'til this feeling passes. Is that okay?"

"Please."

And so, the rest of the evening consisted of cuddles under your massive comforter. Sweet admissions whispered in your ear. The tiniest kisses to your hairline and your shoulder and your nose and your wrists.

By the time you dozed into a worry-free slumber, you believed him a little more.

Perhaps you could let Spencer love you, forever.

[shorthaltsjester]

something about orym’s reactions to imogen’s considering ‘switching sides’ being so outright vs when fearne does the same it’s more subdued and he doesn’t Like it but doesn’t outright oppose her in the same way. like thinking about how much dependence he places on imogen as his replacement keyleth who will situate the party and their decisions even if she’s not the one Making the final decisions is So delicious and intriguing and i’m excited to see how the tensions there even in their apologies to one another develop

[art-is-kayos]

Everlasting A5

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Jury Duty

Danny has been living his best life in Gotham, hiding from the GIW but mostly moving forward with his life. (College, job, whatever)

Until his name is drawn for jury duty.

He complains to his friends. They bring up a few interesting points. Shouldnt being dead disqualify him? Eventually the anti ecto acts are brought up. Can the government enforce jury duty on a citizen that was declared legally non-sentient?

Now, it might not have been danny's smartest idea, but he replies to the summons with a "cant, i died," attaching a copy of the anti ecto acts and a short argument that its hypocritical of the government to strip him of his rights but still expect him to fulfill his civic responsibilities.

Whatever government desk job gets danny's reply to the summons thinks its a joke at first (theyre no stranger to the colorful and creative excuses people come up with to try to get out of jury duty), but danny provided all the right paperwork and instructions for them to jump through all the hoops necessary to locate the obscure law. They send it higher up the chain of command.

But this is Gotham. After several days of ruminating over the strange law, they decide to leave a tip on the bats' hotline (set up and maintained by Oracle). The whole situation felt a bit left of reality, and they weren't paid enough to deal with that shit. And if the government really was the problem here (look, they might have landed a secure government-funded desk job, but they were a grunt and held no loyalty to the government that continuously screwed over their home city), then merely passing the buck meant it would get covered up instead of exposed.

Oracle gets the message and starts digging, determining that this is A Big Problem, Actually. First order of business is to track down this Danny guy and give him a bat-level security detail. Second order is to push this to the Justice league.

The thing is, the giw had successfully hidden themselves from the justice league up until now. They covered their tracks, took care of loose ends. The laws were written to look like pest control.

They never considered that someone would respond to a jury duty sommons with "cant, im dead." First of all, they dont know about halfas, who could be dead without ever being legally declared. Secondly, why would a ghost pretend to be alive? Thirdly, why would they blow their cover? ("Sir, its *jury duty.*" "point withdrawn.")

It was pure chance that the desk job took it seriously enough to report it, and oracle only recognized the threat as it was because she made the logical leap from ectoplasm to lazarus water.

The bats investigate by intercepting danny's summons. Fortunately, the higher up decided it was a joke and didnt share it any further. Unfortunately, they told danny that he better show up for jury duty, come hell or high water.

That route blocked, they hack in a jury summons for jason todd. Being Actually Legally Dead, with all the paperwork correctly filed, means that he would never actually get a summons, but they need someone on this inside that clearly falls into the same category as danny to keep a close eye on him.

Anyways, this was a long and twisted set up to get not one, but two individuals in the same jury duty line up claiming they "cant, i died."

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ In de middle of the night ⭑

Masterlist

A/N: I got a littleeee carried away with this one :)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x sister!reader

Summary: Being married to Aegon brought you no pleasure, especially when it comes to the bedroom and you were still without an heir. However your sweet brother Aemond is willing to help you out.

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, teeny tiny bit angst but really tiny, targcest, aegon being drunk asf, kissing, handjob, oral, facesitting, tongue fucking, finger riding, vaginal sex, breeding kink and squirting.

Word count: 4.7k

You stared up at the canopy above you, deep in thought while your husband Aegon sloppily rutted into you. His thrusts fast and eager, he had trouble keeping his cock actually inside you. It was another one of those nights where he came into your chambers or summoned you to his, stinking of wine, slurring words and ‘demanding an heir’. Everytime he did this, it would start by you taking your clothes off and laying on his bed for him. He would, less gracefully, take his off too and almost trip and fall to the ground trying to get over to you on the bed.

He could barely get his cock hard with a few tugs and would slip it inside, or rather force it, and you wondered, was this how he fucked his whores too? So you laid there waiting for him to slip out and pass out on top of you, before even actually finishing inside you. But of course it was your fault there was no heir after 6 months of marriage. You didn’t even know why your mother, queen Alicent, thought it was a good idea to make your life a living hell by marrying you off to your least favourite brother. Aegon's complaints during the betrothal didn’t go unnoticed by you, what also didn’t go unnoticed was Aemond’s reply to every nasty comment Aegon made about you. 

“She’s boring, always reading and never dancing or drinking like the rest of us.” Aegon would say, already tipsy of his precious vintage wine. “She’s unique and smart, you should appreciate her brother.” Aemond would fire back. They never realised that you would listen in and gods did you love Aemond for his protective nature. He always had your back. When you had nightmares as a child and even sometimes still, you would go to him, because you knew he would never judge you. 

Pulled out of your thoughts, Aegon once again slipped out and stupidly drunk passed out on top of you. “Aegon? Did you- finish already?” You asked hesitantly. No response. So as usual you pushed him off you, left his bed to get your nightgown. Got dressed and left his chambers, disappointed and hurt once more. You walked down the dark and cold halls of the Red Keep, dragging your feet back to your own chambers. When you got back, your handmaiden had already drawn a bath for you, for every time you got summoned to his chambers, she knew you would come back uncomfortable and disappointed. She felt bad and always showed it by trying to get you clean and comfortable again so you could finally go to bed. 

A week later you were taking a stroll through the gardens, looking for your favourite butterflies. The sun beaming down on you as your handmaiden trailed behind you, the tiny rocks crunching under your feet. The gardens were pretty much empty which was rare on beautiful days like this. After a while of observing your favourite butterflies, the eastern tailed butterfly, you decided to take a seat under the canopy at the far left side of the gardens. It was one of your favourite spots, secluded and only the royals were allowed here. 

Your handmaiden handed you your book and summoned some wine and cheese for you to enjoy, when you were comfortable you sent her away. In much need of some alone time. Sitting in the soft breeze of the wind and the cool shadows of the canopy you let out a sigh. “Enjoying the day sister?” Your heart skipped a beat at Aemonds voice, he almost appeared out of nowhere and pulled a chair to join you. “Brother you scared me.” You said with a breathy laugh. “I apologise, I just wanted to spend some time outside after training today.” He smiled slightly as he poured himself some wine. “How did it go? Did you embarrass Cole again?” You smiled at the memory, eyes fixated on your book still. “I always embarrass him, but it never stops amusing me. So...what are you reading today?” Aemond tried to read the title, slightly leaning forward to do so. 

“If I tell you you’ll laugh.” You replied, pressing the back of the book on your lap. “So romance I take it, you know I would never make fun of you for that.” He said, sipping his wine and peering over at you. Your cheeks flushed at his words, conversation was always easy and comforting with him. You wondered why it couldn’t be like that with your own husband. “I...heard you strolling back to your own chambers in the middle of the night again.” He seemed to observe his wine cup while he spoke, too embarrassed to look at you. Because you knew exactly what he was hinting at. Did Aegon finally manage to do it? Is it still uncomfortable and unpleasant?

No one knew you talked to Aemond about this, you would be disgraced if they did. But he was the only one you could trust. If you told your mother she would just insist to keep trying and that all would be well. “Yes. I was.” You replied curtly, you wanted him to do something about it. Maybe he could talk to Aegon? Clearly your dear husband ignored his mother’s pleas to stop drinking so much and to bed you properly, but to no avail. “Is he still not?” He didn’t even dare finish that sentence for he knew when your face tensed up and looked back at your book. “I’m sorry.” That was all he could muster up to say. He didn’t want to insult his brother but he was getting tired of seeing you like this. And of course the blame was always on the woman if she wasn’t soon with child after marriage. 

You almost threw your book on the table and stood up to walk towards the balcony that overlooked the sea. “I love Aegon but why is he like this? Why can’t he do his duty? Why does he have to scorn me like this, again and again.” Your eyes teared up at the thought of never being able to produce an heir for the realm. You heard the sound of a chair scraping against the tiny stones and felt Aemond’s presence suddenly behind you. Feeling his breath against your right ear almost made you shudder. “If you were wed to me, I would’ve performed my duty. You would’ve already been swollen with my child.” His whispers made your heart skip a beat and heat pool in your belly. You closed your eyes when you felt his hands on your hips, slowly moving toward your stomach as if to hold that said swollen belly. 

“Aemond…” It almost came out as a moan, the thought of him bedding you, fucking his seed deep inside you, it made you feel things you never felt with Aegon. You always thought he was brave and handsome, but after that night when Lucerys Velaryon took his eye, he changed. For the better you thought. As you got older he took to wearing an eye patch and why did he have to look so damn good with it. “I have an idea, but you must not tell anyone. It would solve this problem...but we can’t speak about it now and not here. Come to my chambers tonight, if Aegon calls on you, which I doubt since he talked about sneaking off to Flea Bottom, then tell him you’re too tired.” He embraced you from behind and left you with that. 

The rest of the day was spent anxiously in the gardens, even at supper you were too nervous to look at Aemond or even at Aegon who was already drowning in his cups. You were stabbing at your chicken, trying to get a piece of bone out when your mother spoke up. “Aegon, must you drink so much every night?” She looked at him with a piercing gaze. For some reason his eyes landed on you when he spoke. “Yes.” Was all he said. Your mouth almost fell open. Did he mean to suggest that he was only drinking so much because of you? His wife? His perfect and nothing but loyal and dutiful wife? When Aegon looked back at his plate you looked at your mother. She gave you a sympathetic look before leaving the table to check on her own husband, the king, who had been in a bad state the last couple of weeks. You quickly left the table after her, walking back to your own chambers, your handmaiden once again following quickly behind you.

“Dyana, I require a bath right now.” Once you were in your chambers, your handmaiden drew your bath and after a while you were relaxing in the hot water. When you were finished you got dressed and left your beautiful silver locks down for the night. You always had long hair that stopped right above your butt, soft big curls and shiny hair. It was something you were very proud of. And tonight you wanted to show it off for Aemond. You still weren’t entirely sure what he was up to but gods did you hope that it was what you were thinking of. 

You decided on a white, silk nightgown that had long sleeves and a small cute bow in the middle of the quite low neckline. The sleeves were wide and very princess-like, with the skirt of the gown itself long, airy and light. You made sure to smell of vanilla and sugar and when it was completely dark, and everyone must surely be asleep, you sent your handmaiden away to “go to bed” and snuck out not too long after to Aemonds chambers. 

You moved as quiet as a mouse through the dark halls of the Red Keep, nervousness and excitement in your chest. After a while you arrived at the door of Aemond’s chambers, his guards thankfully already sent away by him. You softly knocked on his door and seconds after, he opened it, quickly letting you inside. He was dressed in a soft cotton shirt, pants and his black boots. And he still looked as handsome as ever. “Why don’t we sit down, sweet sister.” He motioned over to the two settees in the middle of his chamber. You both opted to sit next to each other. 

“Now, I want you to listen to me carefully. I have an idea on how we can provide heirs and keep you satisfied as well. But no one must ever find out. Not even mother and especially not Aegon.” He started. “Since I am not married, I could- bed you. And give the realm the heirs it so desperately needs.” He looked at you, he was always calm and collected but now even you could see the gleam of nervousness and excitement in his eye. You could only nod, it was incredibly disgraceful, treacherous even. But it was the perfect solution. “I need you to say it out loud, say that you want me.” He muttered, inching closer to grab your face. “Please Aemond, I want you. I need you.” You whispered already looking at his lips.

That was all he needed to let go of any self restraint he had. He smiled and leaned in to kiss you. His lips felt so soft, which was in contrast to his rough and masculine demeanour. After a second you moved your lips against his. You wanted to hold his face as well but were a bit too nervous to do so. His right hand was still on your cheek and his left arm went around your back, to hold you closer to him. Aegon almost never kissed you, so this new exciting feeling left you heated and wanting for more. Aemond deepened the kiss, he let his tongue slightly swipe over your lower lip, asking for entrance. You eagerly granted this and let his tongue explore your mouth.

You couldn’t help the tiny moan slip past your lips. Aemond groaned, and just the mere sound of this had you clenching your thighs. Your arousal taking over your mind, you grabbed his shirt and let your tongue mingle with his. His hand that was on your back pulled you even closer and the hand that was resting on your face slithered lower to your bottom and he couldn’t help himself, he grabbed it hard making you moan into his mouth. His sanity was slipping at the sounds of your pleasure, he wanted this for so long. He wanted to show Aegon exactly how he should be fucking his wife. 

“Do that- again.” You whimpered against his lips, for some reason, his manhandling turned you on. It was another side of him you had never known, the rougher Aemond, the Aemond that took what he wanted. He did as you commanded, grabbing your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze, which earned him another moan. Fuck- if he knew that this is what you wanted all along he would’ve done this 6 month’s ago. Before the wedding, to make you his, just so he could do this whenever he wanted. The friction of his pants on the tip of his hard cock got him even more riled up. It just felt so fucking good. At this point he’d do anything you commanded. He gave you another smack on your ass and groaned in your mouth. 

“Fuck- you love this don’t you, getting thrown around by me. Tell me it’s me you’ve always wanted, not Aegon.” He almost grunted the words against your lips, still feverishly moving against you. “It’s always been you and only you- If Aegon fucked me better- I could’ve at least imagned it was you bedding me- but even that he won’t grant me.” You spoke breathlessly against his lips. He removed his lips from yours and gave you a look that could make you finish right there and then. “Let me remove your dress and show you what your husband should’ve done all along.” He spoke in such a low and husky tone, you could feel the slick between your legs. 

You once again were at loss for words and simply stood in front of the seated man. He grabbed your skirt and stood up to help you lift off the dress that now felt too heavy on your body. Once the dress was raised above your head he threw it on the other settee behind you. Then you saw the lust in his eyes as he took in your body. “How could my idiot of a brother not absolutely devour you every night. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. Let me treat you like the goddess you are.” He didn’t even let you respond before he lurched forward to lick and suck at your breasts leaving them slick with his saliva. “Oh Aemond- please- I need you so so so bad.” You almost sobbed when he let his middle finger glide between your wet folds. He drank in your moans as he let his finger explore your soft cunt. Already imagining how it would feel around his cock. That thought alone alongside the feeling of your wet pussy sent beads of precum dripping out of his aching tip. Leaving a dark sticky patch in his pants. 

When he decided that your nipples were aching and sensitive enough he finally let his mouth off them, a tiny spit trail connecting you. Then he started kissing down your stomach, even further down until he was on his knees. You were in complete awe of the sight before you and gods help you when he finally reached your cunt. Leaving a tiny peck right above your puffy clit he started to absolutely devour you. Licking and sucking at your wet folds, you moaned his name, whimpering and begging for air as he went. Never in your life had you felt this good and you only just started. You had to hold on to something so you grabbed his hair. And right as he sucked on your clit you pulled at his roots earning a moan from Aemond right against your clit. The vibration of it felt like heaven, he then grabbed your right leg and put it over his shoulder so he had better access, holding your ass for support. 

Only mere seconds later the amount of build up of pleasure made you hold your breath, at last with Aemond lapping faster over your clit with the tip of his tongue, you saw stars as you gasped for air, chanting Aemonds name like a prayer, gripping his silver locks holding him in place as he continued licking and sucking your clit through your orgasm. “Fuck- fuck!” You almost screamed, still gasping for air when he finally released his head from between your thighs. “Good girl, if only I could make you cum on my tongue every night.” He spoke when he rose from his knees, after he gently placed your leg back on the floor. His sultry voice made you open your eyes again and the mere sight of him- His lips, nose and chin- covered in your slick. “However, I’m not done with you yet my love.” He smiled and led you over to his bed to this time remove his own shirt and boots. 

As you laid back on the pillows, mind still woolly from your orgasm, you watched as he raised his shirt over his head. He was more slender than Aegon but more defined. He had toned abs and a strong but soft chest. Almost angelic. He didn’t have any hair, unlike Aegon, but you actually loved that. His arms were long and veiny just like his hands. His v-line was defined and let your eyes wander to the hard bulge in his pants. Yet he removed his boots instead and joined you on the bed. He laid next to you and traced your legs. Then he patted his thighs, silently asking you to sit on them. 

You did as he asked and moved over to sit on him, his thighs weren’t too thick but muscular and strong. Probably from all the training he did. His hands grabbed at your breasts again and he couldn’t help but mutter, “Fucking beautiful.” His hands then moved down your stomach right back to where you wanted him most. Letting his thumb move in circles over your clit again, you moaned at his touch. “I want you to do something for me.” He spoke. “Anything- anything for you.” You replied, breathlessly as he still let his thumb rub over your sensitive slick clit. “I want you to ride my fingers. And when I make you come with that, you’ll ride my face. Good and hard, understood?” You almost moaned again at his words. How did you get so lucky? Were the gods finally rewarding you for these horrible past few months? “Fuck- yes. I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.” You panted. 

He didn’t remove his thumb but let his middle finger once again glide between your folds to find your tight hole. This proved to be an easy task, you were still so wet from your previous orgasm that he easily slipped inside. Once he had his finger inside he added a second. He waited a bit for you to get used to the stretch before he gave you a smack on the ass again with his other hand. “Move darling, ride my fingers like you would my cock.” You gasped and almost immediately started moving against his hand, he made sure to curl his fingers in a way that they would hit exactly the right spot inside you every time you moved. The sensation of his fingers inside you while you grinded on his hand already felt amazing but of course he had to add his thumb again, wanting to make sure your clit wasn’t deprived of pleasure. 

This made you clench around his fingers, earning a groan from him. As you rode his fingers faster, chasing your high, his other hand moved from your ass to your face, grabbing your chin and sticking his thumb inside your mouth, you sucked on it instinctively. Moving the flat of your tongue against it. “That’s a good fucking girl, already knowing exactly what I want don’t you? Riding my fingers like you need them to survive. Fuck I can’t wait to fill you with my seed. See your swollen belly and know that I did that. Shit you don’t even know what you’re doing to me hāedar*.” His filthy words alongside his thumb rubbing over your clit made you once again see heaven itself but this time the feeling of your orgasm approaching felt different like something was about to burst. You wanted to tell him but with his thumb still in your mouth this proved difficult. Before you could stop it you grabbed his arm for support as you squirted all over his fingers and chest. “Gods- yes. Fucking cum for me. Cum all over my fucking fingers.” Aemond groaned out, he never thought he would see such a heavenly sight. This certainly did not help his own condition. But he did discover a new kink.

You rode out the last bit of your orgasm, finally allowed more air when Aemond removed his thumb from your mouth, rubbing his hand soothingly on your leg instead. When you had caught your breath you looked at the mess you made underneath him. “I- I tried to warn you- I’m sorry- I didn’t-” Before you could mutter out any more apologies Aemond cut you off. “Don’t ever apologise, that was fucking amazing. Making you feel such pleasure is all I ever wanted in life. So next you’ll do it on my tongue.” He wasted no time in grabbing your hips and moving you over his face, pressing you down on his mouth and his nose. You sighed and hoped you could handle another orgasm. Because he was clearly not finished with you yet. 

He stuck his tongue inside you and grabbed your hips once again to hold you down. Your body almost moved automatically, as if you no longer had control. You knew you weren’t going to last long this time, the sensitivity making sure of that. But what you didn’t expect was his beautiful nose hitting your clit just right as he tongue fucked you. He grunted and groaned at the taste, holding your hips to grind you on his face. “Aemond- Aemond please I need you- please fuck me- please!” You sobbed, it felt so fucking good, never in your life had you dreamed of such pleasure. Grinding and moving harder and faster on his face, your orgasm was approaching once again. 

And this time you hoped you would release all over him again as he so desperately wanted. Luckily your wish was granted. You felt the same full bladder like build up once again and leaned back to hold on to his torso for support. His nose hitting your sensitive puffy clit, his tongue fucking you deep inside and his own sounds of pleasure sent you over the edge. Warm liquid gushing over his face, the vibrations of his own moans and bucking of his hips in desperation, if you were to die now you wouldn’t care for it, you would die a happy woman. After making sure you were fully fucked out he released his grip and let you catch your breath. 

Your knees buckled from underneath you and your body fell limp on the bed next to him. And he had yet to fuck you with his cock. “Please Aemond I need your cock, I need your seed inside me, please, it’s all I ever wanted.” You pleaded, eyes still watery from overstimulation. “Don’t worry my love I plan on doing so, let me breed you good and proper, like you deserve.” He whispered against your neck. You hadn’t even noticed him moving on top of you. You heard rustling and opened your eyes to see Aemond at last removing his pants, releasing his hard cock. He was big and long, veins all over his shaft, his tip red and angry leaking with pre cum. When he threw his pants to the side he moved back to you, making sure you were okay he kissed you, soft and tender. You smiled against his lips as a confirmation. 

He kissed you once more on your forehead before grabbing his cock by the base, letting his tip move through your slick folds. Smearing his pre cum and your own spend around. He moaned at the warm and soft feeling. Aemond really had to remind himself not to immediately ram inside you and fuck you senseless, as much as he really wanted you. The last thing in the world he wanted was to hurt you. “Ready my love?” He asked. “Yes please, I want you to fuck me dumb...until I can’t even speak anymore.” You whispered, a smile on your face at the thought of finally having his cock buried inside you. “Trust me, I will.” He said before sliding in, letting out a loud moan as he did, slowly burying his cock inside, all the way until he could feel your cervix with his tip. 

After a couple of seconds he made sure he could move. He couldn’t hold back any longer and started rutting inside you like a dog in heat, panting and moaning as he did. This time moaning your name over and over again. You gripped his shoulders and back for support as the entire bed shook and banged against the wall. You both couldn’t give less of a fuck if someone heard. A tiny part inside you wanted to be caught, maybe you could finally be his. He leaned down and captured your own moans in his mouth, licking a stripe up your lips, catching your upper lip with it for a moment. You whimpered in response. The things you would do for this man. The sounds of your unholy moans and groans, your skin hitting his, the sound of his balls filled with seed slamming against you filled the room and probably the hall. “So fucking good- so fucking tight for me.” He moaned. 

“Please Aemond- I’m going to come- please fuck me harder!” You begged against his neck holding on to him tight before your pussy clenched around him, your fourth orgasm making you shake and curl your toes. Accidently scratching up his back in response. “You want my fucking seed princess? Want it inside you hm? I’m going to fill you to the fucking brim.” His own words and the feeling of your nails scratching his back sent him over the edge himself, burying his face in your neck, biting down on you as he delivered a final pump before indeed filling you to the brim with his seed. With a final couple of slow trusts to pump his seed good and deep inside you he released his grip on you. After having caught his breath he kissed you, and removed his softening cock so he could lay by your side. The sheets were covered in sweat and both of your cum as you could feel some of his seed dripping out of you. Aemond noticed and used his finger to push it back inside. “There, however, most of the time women don’t get pregnant after only one bedding. We should do it more often to ensure you become with child.” He whispered near your ear. You smiled, pulled his head back and kissed him.  

“We should, and when I do become with child, I can rest easy knowing they’ll be yours. Just as handsome and devoted as you.” You mumbled against his lips. He smiled at that, moved you on your side so he could have your back snug against him. You cuddled for as long as was possible, before you sadly had to retreat to your own chambers. Only a month later it was announced you were with child.

*hāedar = sister

[ddarker-dreams]

BRILLIANT fucking idea: SR reader insinuating/offhandedly admitting… she has never been intimate. everyone hearing it like 🧍🏾‍♀️ how do you mean. idk j the flustered bashfulness of suddenly being like “wajt wait if im her bf ,,, im her first love”

SCREAMINGGGGG

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Giorno

Giorno is a bit strange because he almost wishes he had a predecessor to analyze (and completely outshine). He isn’t disappointed per se, he’s not that weird, but having more study material never hurts. Positive relationships are foreign to him, since he’s been distant from others most of his life. He got along with people well enough — he just preferred his own company. Now that he’s had a taste of your company, he’s keen on making it a lifelong occurrence. Overhearing this admission has him wondering if traditional courting methods don’t do much for you. Or, more realistically, that they go over your pretty head. He's witnessed you interpreting the gang's flirtations as platonic. Consequently, he gives considerable thought to ensuring this isn't a fate that befalls him. Corny as it sounds, his new dream is to stand beside you as your husband. He's chasing this goal without abandon.

Bruno

Bruno feels immensely guilty for eavesdropping on a conversation involving something so personal, but he couldn't help himself. An immense weight feels like it's been lifted from his shoulders upon learning you haven't gotten romantically involved with anyone before. This relief is followed up with sharp self-condemnation — as your leader, he shouldn't get involved with your personal affairs. Maintaining any professional distance is difficult though, especially when you're so likable. People are naturally drawn to you and he's no different. That's why this revelation comes as a surprise, albeit a good one. He tells himself he'd be happy for you if you loved someone else... however, deep down, he knows the regret would eat him alive. He struggles to concentrate the rest of the day. His mind keeps wandering back to thoughts of you, specifically, finding solace in one another’s warmth. The most innocent thoughts make his heart flutter, the man is smitten.

Fugo

Fugo almost renounces his atheism — perhaps there is a God after all. Then he's reminded that you're completely out of his league, submersing him back into the Nietzsche headspace. His self-esteem isn't the best, so the way he looks at it is if no one else was good enough to catch your attention, what chance did he have? It's a miracle you even put him with him. He's blunt, stubborn, and easy to agitate, yet you're one of the few people alive who don't treat him like a ticking time bomb. When his initial pessimism dies down, he fantasizes about you getting flustered by things like a first kiss. It's a cute mental image. Would you fidget? Accidentally bump heads and apologize? Get sweaty palms? Before he knows it, he's invented an entire storyline in his head. It's mushy enough that he struggles to look you in the eye the next time he sees you.

Mista

Mista pretends he knew it all along, as if the Pistols hadn't kept him awake multiple nights, speculating over your relationship status. The little fellas held full-blown debates. Since he's a chill, go-with-the-flow type of guy, he wouldn't have turned green with envy had he learned you former lovers. If they brought you happiness, who is he to hold it against them? Regardless, he can't deny his budding excitement. Should you reciprocate his feelings, you'll experience all your firsts with him. Those initial milestones are the moments that stick with people throughout their life. It's your first kiss in particular that he'd like to have for himself. He intends to sweep you off your feet — literally. It's got to be like those old Hollywood flicks he grew up watching, or what's the point?

Narancia

Narancia has to stop himself from audibly cheering. The multiple abandonments he underwent in the past has him latching onto the few people remaining in his life. This includes you, naturally. You've brought him so much joy, the risk of losing that, losing you, it's a fear that eats away at him. He worries that if you had exes, you might compare him to them and determine he's subpar. Then he'd be cast aside like trash as he had been multiple times before. These insecurities nourish his possessive tendencies. Learning that he has no exes to fend off is a great relief because he would've defended you viciously. It isn't until later that he daydreams over the more innocent implications, like being your first (and only!) boyfriend. He gets so preoccupied by the thought that he walks into a few walls.

Abbacchio

He's actually surprised to learn about this. He considers using Moody Blues so he can hear the entire conversation, but decides against it, believing it to be an intrusion of your privacy. Abbacchio's of the opinion that to maximize your happiness, you should find love outside of Passione. He wants that for you, and yet... his heart physically aches whenever the possibility crosses his mind. What's the alternative, then? Would he make for a suitable partner? He finds the mere possibility laughable. Your brightness would be engulfed by the gaping maw that is his existence. He considers this an empirical truth, not some 'woe is me' sentiment. Ultimately, anytime your love life (or lack of one) is brought up, he distracts himself, so as not to fixate on his shortcomings.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

"I'm competing for your attention again, aren't I?" w Art Donaldson 🙏

From the Domestic Bickering Prompt List

Sure thing!

Warnings: Established relationship, twice-divorced Art Donaldson, fluff, smooches

You've caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye two, maybe three times—but you've been so damn busy answering the usual questions that you've hardly had a chance to catch up with him. You're certain that he's been getting a healthy handful of them, too, along with a heap of sarcasm—

Will you have the ceremony on the court?

Will the bridal party be in tennis whites?

Third time's the charm, eh, Donaldson?

While you hadn't had any idea who Art was when you'd first met him, he'd been forthright with you about being twice divorced. He'd told you that his first wife had cheated on him, and his second wife had been a rebound.

"I wanna get married again," He'd admitted, "But I want this one to stick."

Now, you pass a nervous smile toward where Tashi Duncan and Patrick Zweig are in the corner of the party. They've been keeping to themselves for the most part, seeming to trade smiles and barbs between one another, and exchanged bland pleasantries with Art's family.

Art having such a close relationship with his ex-wife had unsettled you at first, but they had a child together. His bond with Patrick was just as obvious but admittedly a little more nebulous to you. But, they were important to Art, so you adjusted.

Patrick catches and holds your eye, raising his beer in a mock-toast and shooting you a wink. Tashi meets your gaze you next, her brow arched slightly as she gives you a nod. It's just enough and nearly too much all at once.

You're drawn into Art's mother's arm a moment later, giving you a squeeze as she coos over your engagement ring.

"You have to meet Alan and Edith—they're Art's godparents."

"Oh, I'd love to!"

--

"There you are."

You look up, doing a double-take at the sight of Art leaning in the doorway.

"Hey! Where did you put that bottle of wine that your mother brought?" You ask, scanning the crowded counter tops in Art's kitchen—well, it'll be your kitchen, too, once you're fully moved in.

"Can't that wait?"

"It must be in here somewhere."

"Honey."

"Can you check the dining room? Or—maybe we left it in the front hall?"

You hear Art sigh and expect to hear him leave, but when he doesn't budge, you turn your head to get a good look at him. His head is hanging, his thumb sliding over his left ring finger.

"...Art?"

"I'm competing for your attention again, aren't I?"

You purse your lips, rounding the counter toward him. When the two of you had begun dating, he hadn't been the only name on your dance card. When he'd told you that he wanted to be exclusive all of that had stopped, of course—but he'd made his dislike of sharing your attention very clear.

"You know it isn't the same," You remind him. "I'm not texting a Tinder fuckboy. I'm trying to find the gift that your mother very kindly brought us to make sure I stay on her good side."

"You don't need to worry about that. She loves you."

"I worry about it all the same."

"C'mere." Art reaches out, taking hold of your left hand and drawing you in. You smile as he raises it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the ring, and then to your knuckles. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just not used to having to chase you down for a kiss."

"Is that what that pout's about?" You lean in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips and grinning as he raises a hand to curl around your jaw.

"I wanna leave," Art murmurs.

"What?" You frown, drawing back to get a better look at him. "Why?"

"I'm sick of the party. I'm sick of this already," He thumbs your ring. "I wanna marry you tonight. Right now."

"Art!" You laugh, "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not kidding."

"You have to be. We haven't filed for a license yet—and we still have to arrange everything."

"We'll go to Vegas. If we leave right now, get tickets at the airport, we'll get there before the marriage license bureau closes. We can file online, on the way to the airport."

"...Art," You shake your head. "You're—Seriously?"

"Seriously." His eyes search yours. "I don't want to have to wait to call you my wife."

"We can't just leave everyone here."

"They're adults, they can see themselves out."

"It would be rude."

Art sighs, looking toward the busy patio. "Alright. We'll give everyone a very polite brush-off. And then can we fly to Vegas?"

"Won't your family be disappointed?"

"I don't care about that." He pauses, a wave of concern passing across his face. "Will you be disappointed?"

"What do you mean?"

"...I've done this a couple'a times. I can do without the big white wedding. But," His brows raise as he tips his head toward you, "If you want it, we'll have it."

You consider for a few moments, glancing toward the patio.

Tonight has been such a whirlwind. You've hardly had any time to catch a breath. The politics of wedding planning can be so nerve-wracking, and you'll have those little comments, those teases of third time's the charm hanging over your head. You'll have to invite Tashi and Patrick to the wedding, and where to seat them? With Art's other friends from the Academy? Will themed drinks be expected? Some hair-brained concoction called The Grand Slam, accompanied by a toothpick with a little tennis ball on the end?

There's press coverage to be had, too. Art may not be playing right now, but that doesn't mean he isn't news. You're not ready for those cameras, the questions, the months of speculation about your dress, about Tashi's attendance—

You look up at Art, resting your hand on his chest.

"I'm going to find the bottle of wine that your mom brought. We're going to finish this party like we planned...And pack when everyone leaves. We'll go to Vegas tomorrow."

The grin that breaks across Art's face is so bright and beautiful that you have no doubt you made the right decision. The crushing force of his kiss nearly bowls you into the opposite side of the door frame.

"I love you," He murmurs.

"I know, baby. I love you, too."

[targaryenluvs]

hiiii okay so I had an idea for like Coryo x little sister where she’s about 12 years old and she looks just like her mom and Coryo, Tigris, and Grandma’am just love her so much BUT she somehow ends up in the hunger games s a tribute and she becomes like besties with Wovey, Reaper, and Lucy- plus she’s giving Coryo a heart attack every five minutes especially during the bombing- finally during his peacekeeper era when he finds out they were evicted she was taken from their custody and so when he comes back with the plinth fortune and all that she just runs up and is all cuddly with him and he’s like “u know what fuck custody paperwork” and just snatches her back home- thank u sooo much💗

SAFE AND SOUND

pairings: coriolanus snow x younger!sister!reader, lucy gray x younger!sister!reader

summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

warnings: murderrr, possessive/selfish thoughts, child endangerment, cheating, rude ass corio, fluff in the end nd a little happy fam, deter from og storyline, protective lucy and snow, family dynamics, theyd do anything to make sure you’re okay

a/n: i did change the story line a little!!

the drones were whirring about you.

people were being knocked down as lucy grabbed you and ran to safety. “keep with me baby girl!” she shouted as you ran, your legs ached but you knew what would happen if you stopped.

coriolanus couldn’t breathe until you were safe. which is why he exhaled a long and heavy breath when you and lucy settled into the vent again. everyone around him was quiet for once, they laughed at all the tributes except you. they all loved you, every time coriolanus brought you around their horrible personalities and stuck up selves melted away with your adoring smile and sweet voice.

reprieve, or so you thought, came in the form of the large tube in front of you. but based off of lucy’s face you knew something was up, and as wovey walked towards it you couldn’t help but shout and cry for her.

“down goes wovey!” thank god. coriolanus thought. that idiotic girl was impulsive and silly, she shouldn’t have lasted as long as she did. she almost killed you with her stupidity, brung you along to her execution as you cried for her to stop.

you’d survived. somehow.

in the history of the games there had only been two victors. so far.

but at what cost? your brother had been sentenced away to district 12 and the only other person who shared any understanding for what you went through was no where to be found. in the wind, gone.

so you did what you thought best.

you ran.

all the way to twelve and the comfort of your dear older brother.

he was going insane. he’d lost you and lucy. sejanus was god knows where and probably planning something illegal. he was stressed the fuck out and all he wanted was a hug from you. for you to put secret braids in his hair when you thought he was sleeping, for you to kiss his cheek every morning before rambling on about school.

the place was alive as she sang. everyone danced but coriolanus stared. he’d found one half of the puzzle. lucy looked amazing and he found himself relaxing at the sound of her voice.

you’d peeked through the window. the noise had drawn you to it. it was your first day alone, ever, and in the worst district. you were scared beyond measure but soon to be saved as you caught a glimpse of lucy twirling on stage, her eye-line drawing you to corio.

the hug from behind caught him off guard but had his mind spinning as he recognised the small hands gripping oh so tightly at his waist. the bracelet he’d made so long ago and the smell of roses, which for once wasn’t himself, and hadn’t been for a while.

“y/n.” he breathed out as you laced your arms around his neck, “i came from the capitol. i hate it corio. they took me away from our family and put me with some random family. i don’t like it, i miss you. please, don’t take me back.” you cried as he lifted you up, resting on his hip as he made his way outside, lucy following in tow as she wiped away tears after seeing your sweet face.

the lake was quiet and tame, slow waves lapping at the jetty and land as you lay curled up in corio’s lap, lulled to sleep by lucy’s melodies. and whilst the trio of you all had no idea what the future held it all didn’t matter in this moment. you felt happy, and you hadn’t felt it in so long. corio and lucy were your family, and you loved them.

corio had done horrible things in his life, the second you were drawn into the games nothing else mattered besides keeping you safe. those horrible things were known to few, one of them being the songbird to your left.

and no would ever tell you these things.

all that mattered?

you were safe and sound with them, they’d made sure of it.

[hellodropbear]

Drawing.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x child

this is based off two requests so I hope you enjoy!

please keep sending requests I’m loving writing them :)

~~~~~~

Elena was with Camila when it happened, completely unaware of what was happening down on the training pitch. 

She had been drawing all day, a new hobby she had picked up, trying to copy Mapi as she sketched in her notepad. 

And as usual, Isabel wanted to be just like her Mami, so she had picked up a dropped pencil and started drawing on a receipt she found on the floor. 

Ingrid would have thought she had found the new Picasso, the way Mapi was cheering. 

"My baby is an artist!" It was the first time Isabel had drawn without being prompted. It was a circle on the receipt, with lots of lines in the middle, but Mapi couldn't have been prouder. 

Isabel lived off Mapi's pride so she told Camila she wanted to practice her drawing that day and they had done just that, sat in the same spot - shaded from the sun but still outside - and drawing since she had been dropped off. 

Isabel had just finished a drawing when it happened, although she had no idea, holding up the page and waving it in front of her babysitter to see. 

"It's me! And Mami and Ingrid!" She pointed at the yellow blob with four legs. "And this is the puppy I want! I asked santa for a puppy this year, Camila."

Camila smiled, staring at the page intently. 

"It's so good, Isabel! You're getting so good!"

She smiled proudly, trying to stop herself from grinning to much but entirely unable to shake off how good she felt from the praise. 

"Thank you, Camila." She replied quietly, swinging her legs beneath her on the seat. "Your drawing is good too!"

The blonde looked down at her own piece of paper, somehow the cat she had been drawing was worse than the toddler's sketch of her family. She laughed, shaking her head. 

"Not as good as yours though."

Isabel blushed awkwardly, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to lie. 

"We are both good." She nodded, proud of her decision to say that. 

~~~~~~

Mapi had fallen harshly, hitting the ground with a deafening thud after landing awkwardly on her knee. 

The scream she released was almost chilling and the training field fell silent immediately, time stopping as the medics raced over to the groaning defender. 

It was the most pain she had ever been in, physically, and she had given birth to a full child not long ago. It was excruciating and she couldn't stop the tears in her eyes from slipping down her cheeks and onto the grass. 

She winced as they poked and prodded at her knee, quickly coming to the conclusion that she would not be walking off the pitch and getting out the stretcher to get her to the medical room. 

It was as she was being lifted that she saw both Ingrid and Alexia standing over her, worry etched deep into their features. Their worry made Mapi feel sick to her stomach, because it meant there was actually something wrong. 

It wasn't just in her head like she had been silently praying for. It was real. 

The prospect of missing out on another chunk of her career was almost sickening, and the thought of having to go through that intensive physiotherapy program after a knee injury was almost worse. 

But nobody had mentioned an acl yet, so she thought she was ok. 

Surely there aren't many other serious knee injuries that can take you out for so long, right?

Except Frido had a knee surgery not three months ago and she is far off her return. And there are so many other people who have had knee injuries that aren't acls - injuries that have forced them to retire. 

She banished the word from her mind as soon as it appeared. It wouldn't be that bad, surely?

But as much as she tried, the thought that it might be the end simply would not leave her brain, taunting her as she became more and more hysterical in the physio bed. 

It was only when she was loaded up into the ambulance that she began to question the whereabouts of her daughter, wondering why she hadn't been brought over as soon as Mapi had asked. 

The staff said they would sort it out, only one of them stepping into the ambulance with Mapi, the rest hanging back at the facility as the ambulance drove away, an inconsolable Mapi laying in the back. 

"It's just a knee, please, just go back and get Isabel!" 

They had shaken their heads, apologising and telling her that she would see the toddler soon. 

~~~~~~

She was confused when it was Alexia who accompanied Ingrid to come get her, because usually Mapi was the first person she saw when their training was over and they could go home. 

She was confused by the look on their faces, almost anxious, both looking sad. 

"Hey Is." Alexia ruffled her hair as she put her pencils down, observing the pictures in front of her. 

"Where's Mami? I want to show her my drawings!"

She brandished two of the pieces of paper towards the blonde, who smiled sadly and knelt down beside her goddaughter. 

"Mami fell over in training today." 

Isabel frowned. 

"Mami always falls over! It's so silly, Ale, she's always on the ground!" 

Her frown was quickly replaced by giggles, picturing her mother falling over all the time, something she would usually laugh about after the game. 

Alexia nodded, her smile diminishing. 

"It was a bad fall, Is, Mami had to go to the hospital."

The toddler's face switched again, back to her frown. The hospital is big and scary, where you go when you're really really sick or really really injured. 

People die in the hospital, when they're sick enough to be taken there. 

Her lip trembled. 

"Is Mami dying?" 

She started to whimper and Alexia was quick to draw her into a hug. 

"No! No, Mami is going to be ok, Isa, she just has a sore knee! She will be completely fine soon, she just wants to see you."

Isabel nodded, sniffling quietly. 

"Can we see Mami?"

She looked up at Ingrid behind Alexia, who nodded easily. 

"That's where we're going now, Is. We're going to see Mami."

Camila, who had been busily packing away their drawing tools, said a quick goodbye to the trio, smiling as Ingrid thanked her and walking out, waving goodbye to Isabel as she was hoisted onto Alexia's hip. 

The toddler was quiet as they drove across the city, her fingers tight around the pieces of paper that Camila had left on the table as she stared out the window until the car parked. 

Her spare hand was used to grip onto Ingrid's as they got out of the car, walking into the big and crowded building. They had to wait for a bit before they could see Mapi, so Isabel sat herself on Ingrid's lap, relishing in the comfort that the Norwegian's arms gave her as she held her close. 

Her hand remained tight in Ingrid's as they were finally allowed to go see Mapi, slowly trailing behind as Alexia opened the door. 

But Mapi only had eyes for her daughter, lighting up slightly as she spotted the curly brunette head tucked away behind Ingrid's leg. 

"Isabel, come here." She smiled as the little face popped out from behind the leg, looking around anxiously before stepping forward and hesitantly standing beside Mapi's bed. 

It was when she was lifted up to sit beside Mapi that she started crying, big and terrified sobs wracking her entire body. 

It was so scary for someone so little, seeing her mother so sad and weak in the hospital bed, her usually bright features dulled and her usually enthusiastic voice more sullen. 

The hospital was so big and the room was smelly. Mapi was sick and there was nothing Isabel could do about it.

So she cried into her mother's arms, scared about what was going to happen and scared about where she was. 

"It's ok, it's ok." Mapi tried to reassure her daughter. "I'll be ok, Is. it'll all be ok."

It was a few minutes before Isabel calmed down, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath, holding out the little drawings she had chosen to bring. 

"You did more drawings?"

Mapi smiled excitedly, like a child on Christmas morning about to open all her presents. 

Isabel nodded, pointing at the first one. 

"Me and you, and Ingrid." She pointed at the yellow blob again. "My doggy."

The Spaniard shook her head, smiling and planting a kiss on the top of Isabel's head. 

"What about Bagheera?"

Isabel shrugged. 

"My doggy is more important."

Ingrid, on the other side of the room was taking deep and controlled breaths, much to Alexia's amusement. 

Maybe a month ago now, they had been on their daily walk in the park and Isabel had seen a little puppy, a baby golden retriever and had fallen in love. 

Thankfully, the owner was nice and allowed the toddler to pet her dog, but Ingrid had stood there with silent frustration on her face because unlike Mapi, she knew they were going to have to deal with a dog obsessed three year old for the foreseeable future. 

And she was right, because every day since, Isabel had asked over and over when she was going to get her puppy, even writing it in her note to santa as Ingrid had been her scribe, silently fuming at the inane request. 

But while the Norwegian had been reasonable and realistic, Mapi had been overly enthusiastic at the idea of a new puppy running around the apartment, clearly forgetting that they had an excited toddler and cat to deal with already.

They had taken the argument to training, Ingrid shooting daggers at her girlfriend as she complained about Ingrid stealing Isabel's childhood happiness by refusing the puppy, targeting the younger girls when she was asking who thought a golden retriever would be a good idea. 

The brunette didn't want Isabel to be sad, but she just didn’t think it was a good idea.

Mapi on the other hand thought a puppy would be the best possible addition to their family. 

"Your doggy is so important." The Spaniard pointedly smiled at Ingrid, who rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

~~~~~~

Isabel was happy in Mapi's lap as the doctors returned with the news. 

Mapi was even more happy to have her daughter to hold onto as she received the news that she absolutely did not want to hear. 

She allowed a single tear to slip from her eyes, before wiping them and smiling. 

Nobody has died, she realised. Everyone she loves is alright, everyone she loves is happy. 

Since the death of her best friend, Mapi has found that her reaction to bad news has become a lot more positive, learning to look on the bright side. 

There's always a silver lining to every cloud, no matter how dark. 

The dark cloud that came with Luis' death came with a blindingly bright silver lining - her baby daughter. 

This injury would no doubt come with one too, but she has to give it time to figure out exactly what that might be. 

Because everyone is ok. 

Everything will be ok. 

And when Isabel stood up beside her, bending down to wrap her arms around Mapi's neck, planting a kiss on her cheek and wiping away the singular stray tear, she realised that she had everything she possibly needed right there. 

Alexia could see that too. She knew Mapi would be ok which is why she felt it was alright for her to leave, to go home. 

Unlike last time she was in that bed, the centre back was happy. She had Isabel, she had Ingrid. She had what she needed and it was so clear how appreciative she was of her two girls. 

So Alexia placed a kiss on Mapi's head, gave Isabel a cuddle and Ingrid a hug and she drove back home, disappointed with the news but perfectly certain that her best friend would be alright. 

Mapi was allowed home that night, so long as she used her crutches until the surgery in two days. It meant not really moving except to go to the bathroom and to move between her bedroom and the lounge room but they would make do. 

Ingrid could live upstairs in the Spaniard's apartment for a bit to make sure Isabel was alright. To look after Mapi who wouldn't be able to look after herself. 

"Ok, Is. Mami has to be careful with her crutches now." Ingrid took the toddler's hand, using her spare hand to help Mapi up and onto the crutches. 

Isabel looked on wearily. It was weird, seeing that her Mami couldn't really walk. The toddler had always seen her mother as such a strong and brave woman, it was hard to see her so helpless. 

Her face remained downtrodden until Mapi used the end of one of her crutches to softly nudge the back of Isabel's head, smiling and winking when the toddler turned around in shock. 

"Mami!" She giggled softly, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth to hide the laughs. 

"What? I didn't do anything!" 

She laughed more, shaking her head and leaning into Ingrid's leg. 

"Mami is so silly, Ingrid!" 

The Norwegian chuckled, agreeing with a nod. 

~~~~~~

It was only the second time that Isabel had slept over at Ingrid's place, the last time was when Mapi had driven all the way to Zaragoza overnight just to surprise her father on father's day.

She liked it though because there was no spare room which meant she could sleep in Ingrid's bed with Ingrid all night.

And after the scary day, she was in desperate need of some serious cuddles.

They had to wake up early in the morning for the surgery but Isabel had fallen asleep in the car journey there, only waking up in Ingrid's arms once they had entered the hospital.

Mapi was back in that hospital gown, her face void of piercings and the little beaded necklaces that they had made together a few months ago. She forced a weak smile on her face as Isabel looked at her, trying to reassure her daughter that she was ok, that everything would be ok soon.

The toddler wasn't convinced, burying her head in Ingrid's neck and mumbling incoherently about being scared.

She remained put in the Norwegian's arms as her mother was rolled into the operating room and as they waited for the doctor to bring them the good news once it was all done.

Even when Mapi was back in the regular hospital room, she clung onto Ingrid, worried that she would hurt her mother even more if she touched her.

But when she woke up, all Mapi wanted was to see her daughter, to see she was ok.

"My lion cub." She mumbled groggily, her eyes only half open but able to see where Isabel was sat, her eyes darting anxiously around the room. "Come here, Is. I missed you."

Dutifully, the child walked over to her bedside, hesitantly placing her hand in Mapi's outstretched one.

"Hello Mami." She frowned at her mother's pale complexion, quickly retracting her hand from her mother's cold one.

"Hey, hey. Come back, Is. I'm alright, see! Just a bit tired, that's all."

She looked up uncertainly, watching as Mapi shuffled over and patted the space beside her.

"Here, come on. I need my girl." She smiled down at Isabel, who bit her lip and slowly climbed up onto the bed.

"I love you Mami." She lay her head on Mapi's chest, her legs to the side of her. "I don't like that you're sick."

Mapi just smiled, chuckling lightly.

"I don't like that I'm sick either, Is. I love you too."

Isabel smiled easily, her worries squashed as Mapi drifted back to sleep.

Ingrid joined them quickly after Mapi fell asleep, sitting on the armchair on her other side and promptly falling asleep with her hand holding Mapi's arm, clearly exhausted from the stress of the day.

Isabel wasn't far behind, drifting off easily in the safety of Ingrid and Mapi.

It was what the Spaniard woke up to not long later, both of her girls right there with her, fast asleep but somehow still comforting her, still reassuring her that everything would be alright.

It was the first time she had been in a hospital bed but so sure that everything would be ok.

As long as she had her two girls, everything would be perfectly fine. 

She remained certain as she said goodbye to them later that evening, watching as Isabel held Ingrid's hand tightly as they walked out of the room and headed home. 

And Isabel was sure that everything would be alright later that night, warm in Ingrid's arms as they both wondered how Mapi was doing. 

~~~~~~

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions for the whole family. 

Ingrid was hovering, so Mapi told her to go back to her apartment for the night. She regretted it of course, she missed the Norwegian as soon as the door closed behind her. 

Isabel didn't know what to do now that her routine had changed so much. 

There was no more going to training because she could just stay home with Mapi. 

Except her mother had just had a surgery and was exhausted, always sleeping and if she wasn't sleeping she was too tired to move, too tired to entertain Isabel, no matter how hard she tried. 

There were no more bedtime stories or bedtime cuddles. Mapi couldn't move enough to get off the sofa, let alone down onto the floor of Isabel's room where she used to kneel. 

Instead, the toddler got her cuddles on the sofa and Ingrid would tuck her in and read the story. 

But Ingrid's Spanish wasn't very good, and her voices weren't as funny as Mapi's. 

She struggled to sleep for the first few nights, feeling worried, feeling sad. 

Mapi struggled to sleep because she had been sleeping all day and when night fell she was suddenly overcome with an intense guilt that she couldn't care for herself or her child; that Isabel had to sit around all day just playing with the cat for entertainment. 

The toddler tried the bedroom first, expecting to see Mapi and Ingrid asleep in there like usual. Her lion was in her arms, ready to curl up between them and fall fast asleep, comforted by their warm bodies. 

But the bed was empty and made perfectly, so she continued down into the lounge room where she had said goodnight to Mapi a few hours earlier. 

She didn't expect for Mapi to still be lying on the sofa and she didn't expect her to be wide awake, staring straight ahead in the distance. 

"Mami." Isabel got her attention, the Spaniard's eyes immediately softening as they fell on her daughter.

"Hey Is. Come here.” She patted the sofa beside her, noticing the toddler's hesitancy. 

She nodded, smiling weakly and running over to jump up on the sofa, immediately snuggling into Mapi's side. 

"What are you doing awake, my lion cub?" 

She wrapped her arm around Isabel's small form, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

"Couldn't sleep, Mami." Her voice was quiet, muffled by the fabric of Mapi's shirt. 

"It's alright. You can sleep right here with me."

The child fell asleep quickly and Mapi wasn't far behind. 

It was how Ingrid found them the next morning, wrapped up in each others arms on the sofa.

Not wanting to disturb the peace, she quickly began cleaning up around the house, putting everything away before getting started on some breakfast. 

Isabel woke up first, the scent of pancakes cooking enough to rouse her, her eyes snapping over to the kitchen where Ingrid was stood, her back facing the toddler. 

"Ingrid!" She smiled softly, unwrapping her body from Mapi's arm and hopping off the sofa, walking over towards the Norwegian who spun around at the sound of the toddler’s voice.

"Morning Is. Sleep well?"

She shook her head, leaning into Ingrid's leg.

"Couldn't sleep, so Mami helped me."

The Norwegian frowned, using her spare hand to stroke Isabel's head. 

"That's nice of her. Do you want the first pancake?"

She nodded easily, grinning as the small pancake was handed to her and eating it quickly. 

"Should I wake up Mami for breakfast?"

Ingrid hesitated, softly shaking her head after a moments thought. 

"No, Mami is still tired. We can make her some pancakes when she wakes up and I'll let you decorate them with the fruits that she likes, alright?"

Isabel nodded sadly, resting her head on Ingrid's leg and palming the hem of her shorts. 

"When will Mami be better?"

"Soon, Is. She'll be better soon."

~~~~~~

Isabel was relatively quiet as she ate her pancakes, barely consuming half of them before she pushed the plate back to Ingrid who stood up and took it, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. 

She was worried about her, to be honest, and had half a mind to take her to training and get Camila to watch her. 

Mapi was a good mother, that was never a doubt, but Ingrid began to question whether it was good for Isabel to stay inside all day with her as she fell in and out of sleep, unable to get up from the sofa without help. 

But bringing up that issue to the Spaniard would send her down a long spiral of self doubt and upset, so she made the decision to leave it, instead deciding to just come back as soon as training was over and seeing what she could do. 

The problem was, as Mapi woke up and Ingrid tried to leave, Isabel seemed set on going with the Norwegian, her backpack full of colouring and some snacks she gathered from the cupboard, her shoes on and her bedroom tidy. 

"Is, you're staying here today, staying here with Mami." Ingrid knelt down, brushing the hair from her face. "And you'll be good for her and give her all the cuddles she needs until I get back in a few hours, alright?"

She shook her head, frowning. 

"I draw! With Camila!" 

Mapi sighed quietly from the sofa, intervening. 

"Camila's not there today because you can stay at home with me!" She mustered on a smile and Isabel looked up at her, nodding sadly. 

"Ingrid will be right back after training though, you're not stuck here with me for too long."

The Norwegian could practically hear Mapi's heart break, she was already thrown deep into the pool of self-consciousness and doubt. It was as if a single word could change her whole perspective and Ingrid had seen the clear flip over and over again. 

And the self-doubts that Mapi carried would never be understood or accepted by Ingrid, who spent every day trying to subtly prove to her that she was a good mother, that Isabel loved her. 

This incident wouldn't support all the progress she's made. 

"Is, go give Mami a hug alright? I'll be back soon." Ingrid smoothed out the toddler's hair, nudging her softly towards the sofa and watching as the child jumped on and lay down, resting her head on Mapi's shirt. 

The Spaniard's arm snaked back around the child, her spare hand waving at Ingrid as she walked out the door, her attention turning back to her daughter on her lap as soon as the door was closed. 

"I'm sorry I'm not very fun at the moment, Is. And I'm sorry that we can't go to training like usual, I know how much you like your days with Camila."

Isabel nodded, shrugging. 

"It's ok, Mami, you didn't fall over on purpose." She leant further into her mother's arm. "You don't have to be sad though, I don't like when you're sad."

"I don't like being sad either! But it's ok because when you're around, I'm always happy." She smiled softly. "You make me so happy, my lion cub."

"You make me happy too, Mami. Even when you can't play with me!" 

She giggled and Mapi knew exactly where she was going. 

"But when I get my doggy you won't have to play with me because I can play with her. Or him. I can play with my doggy."

The Spaniard smiled, running her hands through her daughter's hair and humming quietly. 

"You still have to convince Ingrid on that one."

Isabel huffed in a way that was entirely too serious for a 3 year old. 

"I don't know why... why doesn't Ingrid want a doggy?"

"She thinks you're enough work as it is, my lion."

She looked up, completely outraged. 

"I'm not work! I am a good girl, even Ingrid told me that!"

Mapi just laughed, adjusting her position on the sofa. 

"How about you run and grab your pens and paper and I can show you how to do some drawings today?"

The toddler's face switched from outrage to excitement in a split second as she bounced down from the sofa, running to her room and grabbing her supplies. 

She was used to drawing with Camila who tried her best, but was not very good at all. Getting to draw with her Mami, who was the best drawer that Isabel had ever seen was a novelty and the way she practically bounced back to the sofa emphasised just how excited she was. 

It was how Ingrid found them when she got home, Isabel wedged in an entirely uncomfortable position on Mapi's lap but it didn't look like she could care less - she was completely enthralled by Mapi's drawing of a puppy on the paper, her own pen and paper long discarded on the sofa beside her. 

Isabel's eyes lit up as the door opened, immediately beckoning Ingrid over, completely disregarding her post-training exhaustion and discomfort. 

"Ingrid! Look at Mami's drawing! It's a doggy."

The Norwegian shook her head, walking over to the duo on the sofa and sitting down beside them.

"It's a good puppy, isn't it!"

She nodded, looking over at Mapi with a glint in her eyes.

"I was thinking on the way home." She paused, her eyes flicking between the mother and daughter, each of them wearing equal expressions of suspense and interest.

"I think that you've been so good, Is, since Mami got hurt."

Mapi started to understand where this was going, a smile growing on her face while Isabel remained completely in suspense.

"I think that you've shown to us that you're responsible and I think you've shown us that you deserve a dog too."

The child's face lit up immediately and she almost knocked Mapi over with the speed she threw herself out of her position and right into Ingrid.

"I'm getting a doggy!"

~~~~~~

It was the three month anniversary of Mapi injuring her knee.

Christmas had come and gone, and Isabel had tried desperately hard to hide her disappointment when a puppy hadn't shown up in her stocking.

They had wanted to give it to her then, but couldn't justify taking it to Zaragoza for Christmas, nor could they justify buying a puppy right before their trip to Norway for new years.

Ingrid also hadn't wanted to buy a puppy when Mapi was still on crutches, still not entirely able to look after her child alone, let alone a new dog as well. Ingrid was mostly around, but the away trips would be almost impossible with a dog and a toddler if Mapi still could not walk.

So Isabel had been surprised and excited by her other gifts, things that had been used to death already. The thought of a dog never really left her brain, but she managed to push it to the side as she opened her Christmas presents and ate the Christmas food that her Grandmother had provided.

But now it was March. It was finally getting warmer and Mapi was finally returning to the pitch for training.

Off the pitch, she was completely recovered, back to kneeling by Isabel's bed every night for bedtime stories and cuddles, back to running around with the toddler on their (almost) daily walks to the park.

Ingrid had dressed her this morning, making sure her favourite dog shirt was clean the night before, sliding it over her head with a pair of jeans and sneakers, pulling her crazy morning hair back into braids.

The toddler had pointed down at the dog on her shirt, babbling in an incoherent mix of Spanish and Norwegian about how much she loved dogs.

Ingrid could only smother down her grin, thinking about the hidden stash of dog toys and supplies they had been building over the past couple of months - shoved into the ensuite of the master bedroom.

Not a week after she had agreed to buying a dog, Ingrid had signed her name on an obscure package addressed to Mapi, watching on with amusement as the Spaniard opened it up and admired the leash and dog bed that had arrived.

She was bored, apparently, sat at home alone and unable to participate in the walks that Ingrid was taking Isabel on. The boredom materialised as online shopping and she had guiltily admitted to Ingrid that she was expecting a whole lot of packages in the next few weeks.

They had kept an eye out for ads advertising golden retriever puppies, almost giving up when it seemed impossible to find one anywhere.

But three weeks ago, Mapi's mother had seen an ad up in her hometown and immediately sent it off to the couple and the next day, they had confirmed their purchase of a brand new golden retriever.

The Spaniard collected it from Zaragoza alone, under the guise of visiting home to clean out her old bedroom - an excursion that she was sure Isabel would have zero interest in attending.

The dog had been left with Alexia over night and they were surprising the toddler that day in the park.

And the little girl had absolutely no idea what would be awaiting her at the end of her walk.

~~~~~~

Isabel swung her arms happily between Mapi and Ingrid, a grin on her face as she chattered excitedly to Mapi about what she and Ingrid had gotten up to yesterday, explaining her experience of drinking a hot chocolate in such depth that Mapi wondered how long she had been concocting this story.

They stopped in at a small café for lunch on the way, trying to stall their walk so Alexia would be there before them and also so they wouldn't have to try feed her when she was inevitably excited about her brand new puppy that she had been thinking about for months.

But the anticipation was worth it as soon as she saw her godmother holding a lead that was attached to a little golden puppy, running around excitedly with it's ball.

The expression on Isabel's face was worth more than anything they had ever brought, her entire face lifting up, a smile that showed off her complete set of teeth as she spun around to look at her mother and Ingrid.

"Mami, Ingrid, is that-" It was like she didn't want to tempt fate by asking the question, just in case the dog wasn't hers.

She didn't think they would have done that to her, not in the slightest.

"Ale has your new puppy, Is. You can go say hello."

But the child didn't run to the puppy immediately as the couple had expected, instead charging into her mother first, wrapping her arms around the Spaniard and thanking her over and over again, moving to do the same to Ingrid not long after.

"Of you go, Is, go meet your puppy!" Ingrid grinned as she nudged her away, watching on with joy as the toddler practically sprinted down to the puppy who immediately jumped up onto her, covering her face with wet kisses.

"I think we made the right decision." Mapi looked at Ingrid hesitantly, aware that this still wasn't ideal for the Norwegian.

But the expression on the brunettes face said something completely different, a huge smile stuck on her face as she watched Isabel squeal with delight at her new dog, the happiest she had ever seen her.

"No, Maria, this was the right decision. Definitely."

Mapi beamed, leaning into her girlfriend's side and wrapping her arm around Ingrid's waist.

"She's so happy."

Alexia approached them not long after, her hand still holding onto the leash.

"I believe this is yours now." She smiled, holding it out to Mapi. "I can't believe anyone tried to deny her of this."

Mapi rolled her eyes, grabbing the leash, completely sick and tired of Alexia's argument about how dogs are so much better than cats.

"Is loves Bagheera too, she's just a dog person."

Alexia chuckled, shaking her head.

"No goddaughter of mine will ever be a cat person."

They continued to watch Isabel with the puppy right until she walked back over to her three adults, the dog following dutifully behind her.

"Mami, I want to call her Baloo, Bagheera's friend! Can I call her Baloo?"

Mapi smiled easily, using her spare hand to stroke her daughter's head.

"Of course you can call her Baloo, I love it."

~~~~~~

alright hope you enjoyed!

(I may or may not have given up on editing this after five minutes so it’ll probably be edited in the morning)

let me know what you think and let me know what else you want to see

have a good day!!

[purple-obsidian]

Heyyyyy pookieeee-i saw your Jason todd fic and wanted to ask,what do you think he will be like teaching his gf how to drive?

(Because nobody in my freaking life taught me how to drive yet so I have to sit like a duck and wait for someone to pick me up when I wanna go somewhere pleaseeee let me drivee-)

be brave (jason todd x fem reader) wc 800

⭓ fluff isn't my normal cup of tea. but for you, pookie, i can make an exception ;) sorry this took a while to answer, hope you don't mind i made this specific to driving a motorcycle. that's just what felt right when i was meditating on this prompt so i went with it. enjoy.

"Jason, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"You second guessing me, princess?"

"Yeah, maybe I am. I could kill us!"

Jason scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "You think I would let that happen? Ever?" With cocky grin, Jason walks over and stares down at you, noting the apprehension on your face. "Remember the day we met? You told me you had a bucket list. Things you wanted to do before you died."

"Yeah, I only told you that because I thought I was going to die. You rescued me. I got plenty of time now, I don't have to learn how to drive tonight. Its already dark." You reach your hand up reflexively to rest against his chest as he gets closer. Its a habit of yours. You always find yourself drawn to the steady beating of his heart. Its grounding, and you need some of that right now.

"The road is well lit. We're miles from the outskirts of Gotham, no traffic out here. Just you and me, baby. Why not now?" His large hand rests over yours, pressing it more firmly against his chest. His heart is beating slow and steady, and his piercing green eyes are filled with admiration. "You and I both know that every day we have together is precious. Why wait to do the things you wanna do? Besides, I'd feel better knowing my girl can drive my bike if she needs to."

Jason knows you too well, calling you his girl like that makes you feel weak in the knees. Your own heart beats faster as you break your gaze away from your boyfriend smiling down at you, looking over at the motorcycle he brought you here on. For some reason, it looks more intimidating than it did a few minutes ago. You swallow the lump in your throat before looking back at him. "I'm nervous."

"I know." He states matter-of-factly. Of course he knows, he can read you like a book.

"I've literally never driven anything before. Like ever. I haven't even-"

"Shhh." Jason's hand leaves yours and cups your face gently. His other hand is on your waist, keeping you close. "You don't have to be good at it right away. I don't expect you to be. But you're smart. And you're perceptive. And I know after a little practice, you'll get more confident. I won't let us crash, baby, promise."

Jason really does know you too well. He can see the rebuttal forming on your lips before he finishes speaking. So he leans down to kiss it away before you can verbally express your doubts. The tinge of frustration you feel at being cut off isn't enough to keep you mind from turning to mush from the kiss. His lips are so warm, his breath tastes like spearmint, and his touch gives you butterflies.

But the kiss ends all too quickly. You know he cut it short it on purpose, not wanting your brain to turn off completely before you try and drive for the first time. "Sorry, babygirl, can't give you too much. How could you drive if you're all drunk from my kisses? Hm?"

He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in how cute you look when you're speechless. A moment later, Jason releases his hold on you and turns towards his bike, walking to it with a bit of pep in his step and smugness in his grin, leaving you stammering for a second as you try and string together a coherent thought.

"F-fuck you, Jason." You say after a moment. He always knows how to shut me up.

"I love you too." He grabs his helmet and puts it on before tossing you yours. It's an easy catch, but you're still giving him a dirty look.

"Why did we have to do driving first?" You grumble, accepting your defeat. "Pretty sure seeing the pyramids was also on my bucket list. Along with an abundance of other fun things, like riding in a helicopter, or swimming with dolphins. Or what about joining the mile high club? I'd think that one would be your first priority."

Jason is beaming, watching you put your helmet on and get ready to ride. Even as you scowl at him and mutter complaints, his heart melts at how easily you folded. All it took was a kiss. He always gets his way. He knows you can't say no to him. Jason Todd has you wrapped around his finger, and the vigilante couldn't be any happier about it. He looks you up and down to admire your body before replying, "Stick with me, princess, and I'll make all your dreams come true." He promises. "One at a time. I'll show you the pyramids. I'll fuck you in a plane. But first…"

He grabs you by your waist with both hands and effortlessly lifts you up off the ground to set you down on the seat of his bike. You yelp in surprise, quickly grabbing his hands to steady yourself. "First, you gotta be brave and learn how to ride your boyfriend's bike."

⭓ masterlist ⭓

[penkura]

last forever [2/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: Why yes I did write this after watching OPLA, why do you ask?

[Ch. 1]

Of course, it just had to be a crazy clown that was your next opponent. You didn't fear clowns but you didn't like them terribly much either, so being up against Buggy the Clown and his crew of pirates was making this day worse for you.

First, Luffy had been snatched away by a freaking bird that he tried to catch and turn into food (how he expected to cook it, you had no idea). You and Zoro quickly followed after, not even stopping to properly pick up the men you found in the middle of the ocean who were calling for help. Even when they tried to rob you, the glares the two of you gave and the slight beating from Zoro, once they realized who he was, the three men you picked up took over the rowing and brought you to Orange Town.

Once you found him, Luffy had already been thrown into a cage by Buggy, Zoro making an attempt to dice the clown who only proved he was perfectly fine afterwards, stabbing Zoro instead.After practically jumping from the rooftop with him still in the cage, the girl gave the key up, before it was swallowed by a little dog. The mayor of the town appeared before you next and you asked for a place to treat Zoro's stab wound and where he could rest, Mayor Boodle taking you all to his house.

"I don't need you to treat it, I'll sleep it off."

Zoro nearly flinched at the glare you set on him, making him take his shirt off so you could see the wound better.

"Sleep it off, what a load of crock," Shaking your head, you threaded a needle and sterilized it with a match, "You know that's not how you heal from stab wounds, dummy."

As you started stitching the wound, Zoro watched you closely like he always did. You'd done this so many times at this point, having been terrified of giving him stitches at first, until the worst wound you'd seen him get. He wasn't anywhere near close to bleeding out from it, but after an hour of it still bleeding, you forced him back onto the hotel bed and started stitching him up, pushing away your fears and the tears that you felt welling up as you did so. When you had finished, Zoro was impressed and thanked you, making you smile before you burst into tears over the whole thing.

"What are you crying for?!"

"I…I've never…done that before!"

He'd never have guessed you hadn't done stitches before, but your work never tore, he took it upon himself to remove them when you said it was safe to do. He didn't want you to start crying again.

After that you stitched up any severe wounds he had, just as you were doing at that moment.

"Okay," you cut the thread and finally nodded once you were done, "Now you can sleep. Don't do anything to tear the stitches though."

"Fine."

You put your items away while Zoro laid down, telling him you were going to see if you could help get Luffy out of the cage and ask about this other girl if she was joining you all or not. Before you left, you gave him another glare.

"You better stay still and sleep."

"I will, trust me on that."

Satisfied, you finally left and Zoro smiled to himself before falling asleep.

Not so bad having her as a wife.

+!+

Your hope that you'd all get out of Orange Town without a fight was gone as you stood in front of Cabaji with your own sword drawn. You had told (yelled at) Zoro to go back to resting instead of bothering to fight this acrobat, turning it into an argument between the two of you.

Zoro believed he was completely fine and could fight, despite you noticing the small winces of pain every now and then. Still though, he wouldn't listen to you and attempted several times to move you out of the way so he could fight.

It angered you more than anything, and you finally turned around and glared at him, Zoro more so thinking it was almost cute rather than scary like you thought it'd be.

"Gosh, why the hell are you such a stubborn man?!"

"Says the equally stubborn woman!"

Luffy watched the two of you, amused at how you acted like you really were a married couple despite you saying it wasn't a real marriage. He was starting to not believe you.

Zoro, on the other hand, was getting more frustrated with you as you placed yourself between him and Cabaji, who watched you two in annoyance at the fact neither of you were fighting him, but were fighting each other.

Get a room geez.

"I don't need you fighting battles for me!"

"You're still injured, you oaf!" You screeched back at Zoro, not stopping an attack from the annoyed Cabaji in time. He threw a kick into your side, sending you towards a building. You only stopped and didn't fly right into the building thanks to Zoro moving quickly enough to stop you, grabbing you around the waist to keep you from hitting anything but him.

"You all right?" He was quiet, but the look on his face told you he was angry. At you or Cabaji, you weren't sure, but you nodded. You'd always felt his bandana made him look scarier when he was in battle, but the way he looked at you this time, despite the anger, was more like he was worried about you, maybe. Zoro would probably never admit such a thing to you if you asked.

You were in pain, hissing a slight bit when Zoro set you down. You figured it was just going to be some bruising, nothing to worry about, even though it hurt at that moment.

Zoro made sure you were safe, before standing back up and setting the harshest glare you'd seen from him yet on Cabaji.

"Don't you dare touch my wife again."

Never had you felt like someone was fighting for you or your honor before then. The fact Zoro willingly called you his wife, that stuck in your head on repeat while you watched him fight and defeat Cabaji, moving past your own pain to hurry over and protect him as he fell asleep again. Of course he'd claim he was healing no problem that was, but you still wanted him to be safe while Luffy defeated Buggy.

Luckily Luffy carried him off to your ship as the townspeople chased you off for a misunderstanding, and you could breathe easily to know you all were safe, the orange haired girl named Nami joining you temporarily.

After you checked Zoro's stitches and for any other wounds, you were surprised by Nami offering you to sit with her in the boat she'd stolen, so you didn't have to be alone with two boys. You took her up on it, and she pulled you close to whisper.

"Hey…Zoro called you his wife…is he legit?"

Your face turned bright red, having already forgotten that because of your quick escape from the town. He really had then, it wasn't just you hearing things.

Was that progress? Would things slowly change and develop for the two of you, could you live as a married pirate couple one day? Have kids even?

Were you getting ahead of yourself? Definitely, considering he'd only said it once and likely wasn't thinking, your assumption due to the possible pain he was still in, even though he would deny it instantly if you even started to ask.

"Umm, hello," Nami snapped her fingers in front of your face, making you shake your head and ask her to repeat what she said, "I asked if Zoro was being honest when he said you were his wife."

You blinked a few times, before finally smiling slightly. "Well…technically, yes, he's being honest."

Nami didn't let you go back to the boys the rest of your ride to the next island, demanding every detail despite you only knowing each other for a few hours.

It looked like you had a new best friend.

+!+

The events in Syrup Village led to your recruitment of a new member, Usopp, and being given the Going Merry as your first, real ship as a crew. You and Nami spent time learning how the ship worked, Usopp eventually joining you and telling stories that you may have known right off the bat weren't entirely truthful. You did enjoy them though, laughing through them during dinner that night alongside Luffy.

"Soooo," leaning over, you gave Usopp a grin, "Kaya huh? That was a nice little kiss there."

Nami burst into a laugh at how wide Usopp's eyes got, before he started stammering and trying to say something, you grinning even more and asking him what it was like to get a kiss.

"Never had one before so I wouldn't know."

"I…it…nice…it was nice…"

You and Nami started doting on Usopp over it, telling him how he could always write to Kaya and keep in touch that way. The romance talk flew over Luffy's head but he still talked about how nice Kaya was and how tough Kuro had been, while Zoro got more annoyed as it went on, eventually leaving the table after he finished his drink and stepping outside, which you did notice right away.

Downing the last of your own bit of wine, you excused yourself from your friends, heading to the deck and finding Zoro there, leaned against the railing with his eyes closed. Normally you'd assume he was sleeping, but since it'd only been about a minute and you knew he didn't sleep standing up (wouldn't have surprised you though), you knew he was still awake and would talk to you.

"Hey," you joined Zoro against the rail, making him look at you and nod slightly while you tilted your head, "What'd you leave for?"

"Tired."

"Why aren't you in bed then?"

"Who can sleep with all the laughing?"

"Oh please, you almost slept through a tornado once."

"Shut up."

You rolled your eyes but smiled, deciding to look out at sea and watch the waves that gently rocked the ship. You'd anchored for the night in the middle of the sea, Nami placing you on the first watch of the night since you said you weren't tired while most everyone else was. You didn't mind, it'd give you some alone time to watch the stars and think, to enjoy being by yourself as you so rarely got to do lately.

"Have you heard from your parents?"

Zoro's question made you shake your head, him sighing once you did. You'd not gotten a single letter from them, your carrier bird only bringing newspapers from home so you could keep up on how things were going that didn't involve your arranged marriage.

You wondered if they even got your first letter at all at this point.

"Not a thing…only newspapers from home.

"Mm."

"They've still got my picture in it as if I've been kidnapped."

"Maybe they didn't get your letter and the papers."

You shrugged, biting your lip. You wanted to say something about it, tell him you didn't want to do the annulment even if your parents wrote back that the arranged marriage was over, that they accepted your current marriage. You'd rather stay married to him, try a relationship before signing any papers, but you also knew that saying anything like that would likely cause Zoro to shut you out, or tell you how he didn't want to be in a relationship, he didn't want to be married whether he knew of your feelings or not.

He'd probably never return your feelings and you'd have wasted your time instead of just doing the annulment, or divorce if your six months passed without a letter.

But, maybe, you could just tell him how you felt right then, see what his thoughts were and go from there.

Maybe.

"Zoro, I–"

"I'm going to bed. Just let me know when you hear anything."

"O-Oh, yeah…sure."

Once he left, you sighed and sunk to the ground, wishing you hadn't been such a coward at the moment and asked him to stay so you could actually talk to Zoro about the situation between the two of you. Granted yes, things had moved quickly since you joined Luffy, but still. There were a few times you should have sat down and talked, but every time you wanted to, Zoro was doing something or sleeping. At this rate you figured you'd never get things settled with him.

"Hey, you good?" Usopp popped up beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders while you just nodded, not saying a word. He didn't fully believe you, taking note of the slight sadness on your face, before he smiled. "Have I told you about the giant sea monster that attacked my village?"

"Don't think so."

"Oh it was a huge beast! At least forty, no fifty feet!"

The rest of your night was spent laughing at more of Usopp's stories on the deck, enjoying yourself and forgetting your worries for the time being.

Zoro had, however, turned back to go talk to you about your sham marriage before he went to bed. The two of you never properly spoke about it after leaving the town you'd married in, but he was sure that you had feelings for him from the way you acted at times. Overly concerned with his well being, you forcing him to rest in Orange Town, the glances you'd take every now and then too. Everything pointed to you having developed feelings for him, and Zoro didn't want that right now.

He didn't want distractions from his goals and didn't want you distracted from yours. He had to put a stop to your feelings then and there, even if all it ended up being was a pause on your end.

He didn't expect, though, for you to be laughing with Usopp when he made it back to the deck, choosing to watch you for a moment. You smiled and laughed again, shoving Usopp on the arm while he grinned and made a large gesture with his hands, likely an exaggeration in whatever story he was telling you. Zoro didn't know why he had such a tight feeling in his chest seeing this, but it was enough for him after a few minutes of neither of you noticing him. He turned around and returned to his hammock, trying to ignore the annoyance he felt when Usopp and Luffy came into the room, Usopp mentioning how fun you were to talk to.

I'm not jealous. Not at all.

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate

Azrielx Archeron Oc

A/N- happy day 4 of my week celebrating over 100 new friends 💙 here is the winning poll piece with Azriel and our little Archeron OC, Kaylee. This mostly takes place pre-hybern and the Cauldron, but expect a turn at the end. This is a little bit of a Rollercoaster because I love the idea of Az and Kaylee going into her being made already kind of courting.

Summary - After her older sister returns home with 3 males in tow, Kaylee finds her life turn upside down by one of them. She is unknowingly drawn to the scarred male, and he to her.

Less fun Warnings - mentions of death and child loss (nothing graphic just in a healing house sense), mentions of SA, angst. Kidnapping

The fun warnings - smut, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, dom/sub dynamics (because what kind of Az fic doesn't pay into bdsm?), innocent oc, one use of impact play

Word count - around 3866

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

The first time Azriel came, Feyre and Kaylee held eye contact, communicating silently. Her older sister had brought 3 men, males, she corrected herself, into their home, and now, she sat next to the one who had pretty blue gems. She supposed he was pretty, too.

If you liked your partner to quite possibly be able to kill you with their bare teeth.

And Kaylee supposed, again, that she maybe did. She looked at him before looking at Feyre and then went back to poking at her food.

When she went to bed that night, locked in her room alone by Nesta's orders, Kaylee could have sworn she saw a shadow move before something cool danced in hair and laced between her fingers.

On his second visit, Azriel found himself looking for Kaylee. He had bought something for her at a jewelry shop, without any inkling as to why. He held the small box containing the pretty raw sapphire necklace as he entered her room at the estate.

He froze at the sight of her. Her long sandy blonde hair was damp, she was wrapped in a soft fluffy robe. She was sitting at her vanity, frozen as she stared back at him. "Aren't you supposed to be dropping a letter off to Nesta?" Her voice reminded him of summer rain. It had played in his mind constantly the past couple weeks.

"I did. I was hoping to see you." He smiled as a flush instantly hit her face, gracing her cheekbones. "Only if that is okay, though. Nesta and Elain do not know I snunk up here." Kaylee nodded. She motioned for him to join her in the room, and he sat on her bed. The smell of jasmine and vanilla hit him instantly. Expensive, a shadow whispered. "How is the healing house?"

Kaylee smiled as she turned to him, running an oil through her long beautiful hair. Soft, another shadow whispered. "It's been okay. Lots of kids this week with colds and allergies. Poor little things."

"Do you want kids someday?" The question was out before Azriel could stop himself. "Sorry I-"

"With the right person, yes." Kaylee answered without hesitation. "But only if Feyre likes them. Which I guess gives me my short lifetime to find someone." Azriel felt his heart deflate at the reminder. Human, a shadow whispered. She is just human.

Azriel stood as she turned back to the mirror, keeping the box behind his back and he approached her. "Hold your hair up for me, Kaylee." She watched him from the mirror but did as he asked. "I bought this for you. I thought I couldn't help but to think of it with your eyes when I saw it." She allowed him access to her neck without fear as she watched him. His hands were shaking from his nerves as he placed the delicate necklace on her and closed the latch.

He couldn't help himself as he reached behind her, positioning the stone so it sat perfectly centered above her breasts. "Beautiful," he whispered to her softly. "Absolutely beautiful."

On his third visit, Azriel wasn't even supposed to technically be there. He had been trying to get into the Mortal Queen's Castle. During his flight, he was struck with an arrow. It wasn't ash, wasn't laced with faebane, but he took advantage of the injury nonetheless, using it as an excuse to see Kaylee. He was currently sat on her vanity stool, shirtless, as she cleaned the wound. "I don't know much about fae healing. It looks like it's already closing, though."

Azriel chuckled. "It probably is. I just wanted an excuse to see you." He laughed again as her face flushed and she smacked him on the shoulder. "Can you blame a male for wanting a pretty girl to tend to his injuries?"

Kaylee shook her head smiling before moving to clean the barely there cut on his face. "You are a shameless flirt, Azriel."

"Only when it comes to you, honeybee." He adjusted the sapphire necklace, smiling slightly. "How are you?"

Kaylee shrugged. "Nesta and Cassian got into it today when he stopped by. The energy of the house has been off since then. It's just a heavy feeling?" She looked at him, hoping he understood what she meant and he nodded. "How are you?"

"I was shot with an arrow today, Kaylee. I too have had better days." She couldn't help but to laugh at the statement, her head falling into his shoulder. He'd do anything to hear her laugh, to see her smile. "I did get to see you. So that does make up for it." She pulled back slightly, her face near his. The cut was long gone, the wound in his side had closed and all that was left was a faint pink mark.

Az, a familiar purr came into his mind. Where are you?

Almost to the wall. I'll be home soon. Azriel locked Rhysand out, his hand absent-mindedly moving to Kaylee's face.

Neither of them know if he moved in, or if she did, but one second there was a breath of air between them, the next, there was nothing but his lips on hers. Moving together as he pulled her closer between his legs and her hands came to rest on his chest.

It felt like, for once, something good was in his pathway. Something whole and pure. He pulled away from her, instantly missing the taste of honey and green tea that lingered on her, and rested his forehead against hers. "I have to go, Rhys is calling for me."

Kaylee just nodded. "Was that your way of saying goodbye?" Azriel nodded. "We should always say goodbye like that then."

"Agreed."

Azriel's third visit was spent mapping out the house. He had not seen Kaylee since his last stop, but a small box sat heavy in his pocket waiting for the moment Nesta was done with him so he could see her.

"The last room is Kay's," the oldest sister glared at him. "She might be in there, so if she is, do not speak with her and leave her alone." Azriel nodded. "She's had a rough week."

Azriel opened the door, closing it behind him when he found the mortal who haunted his every waking moment curled in a ball on her bed. Crying. Lost someone. The shadow he had trailing her told him. Little one.

Azriel sat on her bed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Kaylee." She was instantly in his arms, crying harder as he held her against him. He adjusted slightly so she'd be in his lap, then pulled the box out and set it on her night stand. "It's okay, honeybee."

"It's not fair," and Azriel knew it wasn't. The shadow had finished filling him in. "He didn't even have a chance." He shushed her softly, pulling her in tighter. "It's just not fair."

"I know, Kaylee. I know. The loss of a babe is never fair, nor easy." They held each other in silence until her sobs became soft sniffles. Asleep. Likes to cuddle with the otter on the corner of the bed. We snuggle it every night. Azriel could have laughed at his shadows' confession. He laid Kaylee down, tucking her into the bed and handing her the otter. He watched as the shadow he had unknowingly lost to her weaved between her fingers and almost nestled into her. Ours, it whispered.

He kissed her lips gently and whispered a goodbye to her, leaving a quickly scribbled note with the box.

His fourth visit wasn't fun, nor did it allow him much time with her. He watched as Nesta fixed Kaylee's long soft waves, dissatisfied with the looks of her youngest sister.

They all had told the sisters how beautiful they looked, only for Nesta to back hand the compliment to Kaylee. "Had someone been home earlier, she'd look better."

There's nothing fucking wrong with her, Rhysand growled into the link he, Cassian, and Azriel were sharing. What is Nesta's fucking problem with her younger siblings?

From what my shadows caught, Kaylee did not get home until almost an hour ago. Something happened last night and she was pulled from bed.

That explains the medicine smell on her skin still. Cassian said softly. I think she looks fine. She looks extra glowy in that shade of blue, wouldn't you say, Azriel?

Ah yes, Rhysand said. With that clearly fae made jewelry. Admit you're courting her, Brother. We do not care..

Azriel slammed them out, moving to Kaylee as Nesta tried to force her younger sister to let her tie her hair up in braids. "Enough. She looks fine." He pulled Kaylee back to the wall by him and Cassian. They shared a silent look between them. He smiled as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, exposing the sapphire earrings he had purchased her.

Kaylee whispered quietly, "They're late." Cassian shrugged, trying to hide his annoyance. Kaylee jumped as a male suddenly appeared before her, guards and the queens winnowing in. Her hand had grabbed Azriel's, and he had protectively pulled the youngest sister behind him, almost handing her to Cassian with a growl. They did not get to kiss goodbye on that visit. An action Azriel would fly back soon to fix.

He had flown back a week later, sneaking into her room using the balcony door, and waited for her on her bed. He had not noticed her bathroom light was on. he was just anxiously waiting, mind in his own world. "Oh Gods! Azriel! You have to stop sneaking up on me." His gaze shot up and instantly widened.

Kaylee was standing there in her towel. Her long legs exposed to him, her upper chest exposed to him. "I-" he shut his mouth as quickly as he opened it and looked away.

"Is everything okay?" Kaylee moved closer to him until she was right in front of him. "Are you okay?"

He swallowed thickly, eyes locked on her toned thighs. "You are naked."

"Do fae not bathe naked? You all just leave your clothing on? Are you all ever naked?" He smirked at the question and bit at the bait she had tossed out.

"I'm naked when I bathe, Kaylee. I spend a lot of time naked actually." She hummed softly, tucking the end of her towel into itself. "Everything is fine, by the way. I just had a night off and thought I'd spend it seeing you." Kaylee nodded and smiled. "I figured we could maybe talk, or-" he trailed off, eyes on her legs again.

"Ooooor?" He shook his head. "Or what, Azriel?"

He swallowed again. "I will be honest. I forgot every idea I had once I realized you were naked."

Kaylee was debating something. Finally making her choice she dropped the towel, crawling into his lap, bare to him. "Does my nakedness bother you?" Azriel groaned, instantly switching their positions so she was below him.

He growled at her slightly parted lips before diving into them and kissing her deeply. His hands began to roam, going up from her waist to her breasts and squeezing the tender flesh. He devoured her moans, groaning in response as her legs fell wider apart to allow him more space. He moved his lips from hers, kissing down her neck, then biting into the pulse point softly.

Kaylee was responsive to him, to his every touch, lick, and kiss. He felt as if he were a sex God at how the littlest things he did seemed to be magic to her. "You are so beautiful. You know that?" He whispered into her ear before lightly biting it. She doesn't, the shadow said. She doesn't believe you. Azriel lifted her from the bed, pulling them in front of her full length floor mirror and stationed himself behind her. He continued kissing her neck and shoulders, hands playing with her nipples as she turned to hide her face in his neck.

Her skin was on fire with every touch of his hands, only to be instantly cooled by his shadows. "So fucking beautiful," Azriel groaned into her neck. "Look at yourself in the mirror and say you're beautiful."

His hands roamed lower and lower, finger tips leaving goosebumps in their wake as he continued to kiss her neck. "Az-"

"I gave you an order, little one," he bit harshly at her pulse point, soaking in her gasp and moan. "I expect you to follow it."

Kaylee's eyes rolled back as she moaned again. "Look in the mirror and say you are beautiful." Kaylee pulled back from him slightly, holding eye contact with him before realizing he was serious. "Do it or I stop. I will leave you here wet and alone, Kaylee. I only play with good girls."

She whimpered softly. His hand came up to grip her jaw, turning her face to look into the mirror. He had her spread out to him, his other large hand splayed on her lower stomach and public mound. "How can you see this beautiful body, those eyes, those legs, every fucking day and not realize how beautiful you are? Say. It."

Kaylee swallowed thickly as he watched her. "I'm beautiful," Azriel's hand on her chin moved to her throat, gripping gently. His other hand moved lower again, cupping her sex as he groaned at the feeling of her dripping for him.

"Again." He commanded.

"I'm beautiful," a single finger moved through her folds, gathering wetness.

"Again, honeybee."

"I'm beautiful." Azriel pushed his finger into her tight entrance, rewarding her obedience. "Fuck, Az." He slowly pulled it out, pushing it back in again. Watching her watch him.

"Look at how pretty you look right now with your cunt swallowing my finger." She blushed instantly at his words, moaning as he curled the digit into a spot she had never found before. "Such a pretty cunt, Kaylee." He slipped a second finger in, the stretch almost burning as Kaylee moaned. "Has anyone else played with you, beautiful? Or is this tight little hole all mine?" He knew immediately based on the blush and smirked. "Say red if you want to stop at any point, baby."

His fingers began moving inside of her as he continued to force her to watch. He was opening and closing them like scissors, curling them into that spot teasingly, pulling them out just to push them back in so slowly. "You smell so fucking divine, baby. I bet you taste like heaven." He growled in her ear as she tried to look at him. He ripped his fingers from her, smacking her soaked cunt lightly. He delighted in the squeal that left her throat followed by a whine. "Eyes stay on the mirror." He pushed his fingers back in, palm grazing the swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. "Follow my rules and I will reward you, Kaylee. Break them and I will have to teach you some lessons. Am I understood?"

"Yes," she nodded as best she could with the hand still holding her throat.

"Yes sir," he corrected her.

"Yes sir." He nodded and began to pleasure her again, shadows moving in play with her peaked nipples. A heat Kaylee had rarely experienced in her self exploration began to build in her stomach. A coil was tightening and building quickly as she moaned more and more. Azriel was smirking watching her, feeling her walls fluttering around his fingers. "Az," she lost her thoughts as he put pressure on her clit again.

"I know, Kaylee. I can tell. Do you want to cum? Want to soak my hand like a good girl?" She began nodding eagerly. "Do you deserve to?"

"Yes sir." She answered instantly. A smile bloomed on his face. "Please?"

"Tell me why you deserve to cum."

"Because I was good, and I listened-" She moaned loudly as his fingers began constantly curling into that spot, his palm constantly running over her clit. "Sir. Please."

"Tell me one last time what I want to hear."

"I'm beautiful."

"Yes you are, baby. Cum for me." Kaylee finished stunningly. Her back arching slightly as her hips began to ride his hand. Her lips parted in a silent scream as that coil snapped. Azriel watched in bliss, eyes wide as hers squeezed shut and her cunt pulsed around his fingers, soaking them like he had predicted.

He slowed his movements, riding her high out gently as he whispered praise in her ear. He slowly removed his fingers from her but forced her to watch him in the mirror again. He put them in his mouth, the feral being inside of him growling at the taste of her pleasure and essence. He sucked and licked his fingers clean, maintaining eye contact with her. "Heaven." He confirmed before turning her in his arms. "You taste like heaven."

She fell asleep in his arms that night, his naked body pressed tight against hers. She had stopped before it went too far, wanting to wait to cross that line fully once they had looked into fae and human couplings more. Azriel had played with her hair before falling asleep as well.

He had relectantly drug himself out of her bed, only waking her to kiss her goodbye as the sun began to rise.

The next visit was silent and tense. "How long has she been missing?" Cassian asked softly. "When was she last seen?"

Elain shook her head. "She was at the healing house. They said a man came, asking for her specifically by name and claiming his son had fallen ill. Kaylee is known for her work with children. She hasn't been seen since."

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Right. We got that. How long ago was it?" Feyre was holding Azriel's hand tightly as the male tried to school his expression and breath.

"About two weeks ago." Nesta finally answered.

"Our sister has been gone for two weeks, and you haven't looked for her?"

"It wouldn't be the firs-" Cassian cut Nesta off with a single hand raised to her.

"I do not want to hear your excuses. Az?"

"I will find her." The shadow singer said softly. "She should have one shadow with her. If it hasn't come back to me-" His jaw tightened. The sentence didn't need to be finished as he and Rhys made eye contact and the high lord nodded. It was clear to all of the fae in the room. Kaylee was alive, but possibly in danger.

Somewhere in Hybern, Kaylee pulled her knees to her chest as she sat locked in a dark cell. Fae males were guarding her as she sniffled and cried for what felt like the 1000th time today.

She had been forced to bathe and dine with a king. One who whispered in her ear what he planned to do to her, to her sisters, before hurting her, using her, laughing while she cried and a human male watched.

Kaylee watched from the corner of her eye as the little shadow that followed her returned with more. One tried to approach the cell before falling still on the ground and regrouping to join the other ones.

She was losing hope. Hope that Rhys could hear her as she screamed for him mentally. Hope that Feyre would come save her. Losing hope that anyone could come save her. Kaylee fiddled with the chain of her necklace as she cried harder. Help me, she pleaded mentally to anyone listening. Someone please help me.

—---------

Kaylee didn't bother fighting the guards pulling her into the throne room. She knew the pathway well at this point. Nesta was struggling, Elain was crying. Kaylee just walked, numb to all of it. Nesta and Elain were stopped at a certain point while Kaylee was dragged to the King of Hybern and forced to sit at his feet.

Rhys growled loudly at the sight of her. "What did you do to her?! Kaylee! Honey, look at me!" She refused to look at Rhysand, wrapping her hand around the King's calf and playing the part of the good little toy he had forced her to become.

"You and Kaylee have something in common now dear Rhysand. You're both little pleasure whores." The king tilted her jaw, eyes sparkling with the lifelessness he found in Kaylee's. "The only difference is my toy had to be broken into submission while you handed yours away freely."

He dropped her jaw and Kaylee zoned out, waiting for what she knew was coming, almost begging for it. She blocked out Elain's screams. She blocked out the panic as Nesta stayed in too long. She blocked out the image of Cassian reaching for her older sister despite being nearly unconscious.

"Put my pet in. I want to see if she's worth breeding once she is fae." A soft growl snapped Kaylee back to reality. She knew it was Azriel. She knew he was dying. She almost fought as the Hybern guards gripped her arms, but it all went limp as one realized what she was about to do and back handed her. "Evidently there is some fight left in her. No matter, that can be fixed."

Kaylee allowed them to drag and lift her. She heard Feyre scream as Rhys held her back. But all Kaylee felt was water and cold and pain.

—--------

Azriel woke up in his own bed, squeezing his eyes shut before his hands shot to his chest. "You're fully healed," a tired voice came from the corner as Rhysand stood. "You've been asleep for 3 days."

"Cassian-" Azriel began coughing and Rhysand handed him water.

"Asleep in his room. He's been awake off and on. His wings will be fine. Just a slow healing process." Rhysand sat on the edge of Azriel's bed. "Feyre is in Spring acting as a spy. She is okay." Rhysand handed Azriel broth, hoping to help him build strength. "Nesta and Elain are awake. Traumatized, but awake and alive." He watched as Rhysand swallowed thickly. "Kaylee hasn't woken up yet. She shows no signs of waking up anytime soon. Madja and her team are monitoring her day and night. I am going into her mind every so often looking for changes."

"Take me to her." Rhysand sighed heavily at the request. "Rhys. Take me to Kaylee. Please."

The high lord nodded. "They all have powers now, Az. We can't tell what they all are, but be aware, Kaylee's body is strumming with her magic. I don't know why or what she is, but she's dangerous, Az."

Azriel nodded, moving to stand and walk with Rhys. "Did Cassian?"

"The bond snapped for him the second he saw her. We were correct. Just like I have a feeling we're about to be again." He opened the door to the room next to Azriel's.

The brothers entered the room quietly and Azriel released a soft sob. Kaylee was asleep, hair spread out on the pillow as she took deep breaths. Azriel knew what Rhysand meant immediately. Her power was intoxicating, all consuming. His eyes flicked to the birds and other animals watching from the ledge of her balcony. He shot Rhysand a questioning look, and the High Lord shrugged.

Azriel began to note the changes in her. Her ears had changed shape, her limbs slightly longer, cheekbones higher. He fixed her necklace, and removed her earrings gently. Azriel took her small hand in his, ignoring the strumming glittering bond that snapped the second he touched her.

Rhys paused as he studied the light of it. "Azriel, did you two?"

"Not to the full extent, no." His brother was stroking her head. "We played. That's it." Rhys nodded. Grabbing two chairs so they could sit with her.

He was in Kaylee's mind. She was dreaming about walking through the woods and countless animals and lesser fae. Her mind showed no signs of waking her anytime soon. "I have Amren looking into her dream symbolism and her sudden new furry and feathery friends, we have guesses, but-"

"All we can do is wait?" Azriel's voice was desperate as he kissed Kaylee's cold fingers.

"Correct. All we can do is wait."

[leighsartworks216]

Writer's Block

Zayne x gn!Reader

I've been stuck in a bit of a rut trying to write for these boys, so I decided to write a fic about writer's block to get out of my writer's block. To be honest, I have no idea how it worked as well as it did

Warnings: established relationship, swearing, domestic fluff, writer's block, food, eating, cuddling, forehead kisses, references to Clopidogrel the squirrel

Word Count: 2,436

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The little black bar blinks mockingly at you. The only mark on the empty document, taunting you for your lack of creativity, of imagination, of perseverance. Blink, blink, blink. Waiting for you to type anything. And you come up pitifully short.

You sigh and shut your laptop. You look around the living room, at the little knick-knacks you brought from your apartment when you moved in, the cozy blankets strewn about as the days get colder, and the clock on the wall. You could watch TV, pick out a book from the shelf, put together a puzzle…

You open your laptop again. The empty document continues to mock you.

What do you want to write about? Action? Well, you’ve never been very good at writing fight scenes or thrilling chases. How about some romance? Eh, you have no idea where to start with that, and relationship drama sounds about as appealing as a moldy pizza crust from the bottom of a week-old dumpster. If you were a bit cleverer, you would try your hand at a murder mystery.

“Love?”

You hum.

Zayne comes around the sofa to pick up your empty mug from this morning that sits lonely on the coffee table. He looks down at you skeptically. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“No,” you admit. He’d pry it out of you either way; might as well tell the truth. “My brain is stuck, right now. All I want to do is write, but nothing is coming out.”

“Why not take a break?”

“Because nothing else sounds good to do,” you try to explain. “Trying to do anything else feels bad, but trying to write also feels bad.”

He closes your laptop and sets it on the coffee table. “Let’s start with getting something to eat. We can go to that music-themed diner we saw the other day.”

You sigh, long and drawn out, but the look he gives you advises you not to argue with him. “Okay.”

He smiles slightly. “Your brain needs time to rest, even if all you want to do is push through it.” He leans down and kisses your forehead. “Go get dressed. Something warm; it’s chilly outside.”

“Yes, doctor.” You draw yourself up from the cushion, body aching from sitting there for so long. He raises an eyebrow at you. You roll your eyes and kiss his cheek. “Yes, my love.”

“That’s better.” He returns the kiss and heads into the kitchen to rinse out your mug.

You shoot one last glare at your laptop, before going to the bedroom to change.

-

The drive is mostly quiet. The soft hum of the AC pushing warm air throughout the car being the most prominent sound in the silence. You watch the people passing by, walking or biking along. You try to make little stories for some of them.

While Zayne is stopped at a red light, you point out his window at a teenage girl being pulled along by an overexcited dog. “She stole it from the pound.” He chuckles lightly, caught off guard by the sudden remark. “It’s a gift for her little brother, because their parents won’t let them get a pet. She’s gonna say it was running loose when she found it, and, ‘Oh please, can we keep it? We’ll take good care of it!’”

“Will they let her keep it?” he asks as the light turns green.

You huff and sink into your seat, staring back out of your window. “Who knows?”

He reaches over to hold your hand in your lap. His thumb runs over your knuckles, tracing the familiar path it takes every time you’re upset, brushing over the silver ring on your finger. It’s almost Pavlovian how quickly it soothes you. “I think they just might.”

You know it pains Zayne to see you like this, acting like a petulant child just because you can’t think of a few good words. You lean your head on his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Mhm, but can I anyway?”

He breathes a quiet laugh. “Yes, you can.”

“Then, I’m sorry for acting like this. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Of course. If you would like to make it up to me, we should go to that crepe stand in the park.”

You laugh and pinch his hand. He squeezes you back in return. “Okay, Mr. Sweet Tooth, we can go there after lunch.”

-

The diner is snug. All sorts of band memorabilia line every inch of the walls. The tables are decorated with images of album covers, protected by a layer of see-through plastic. You manage to snag a booth right by the door, giving you a perfect view into the connected gift shop, lined with instruments and CDs.

As you wait for your food, named after old 1980s and 90s songs, you and Zayne catch up. Small updates on how Yvonne and Greyson are doing, in exchange for an odd article you saw on Moments. You tell him about a cat you saw the other day that you forgot to tell him about, and he updates you on Clopidogrel, the squirrel who comes to his office window to beg for nuts. Once the food arrives, though, conversation is exchanged in favor of listening.

Over the old music blaring a little too loudly in the diner, you listen to the full tables of friends and family that chat. You overhear something about an Aunt Mindy who’s just adopted another parrot, despite already owning three. Someone’s boss who keeps microwaving fish for lunch, and the ongoing notes-on-the-fridge war about it. A friend of a friend of a friend who met some celebrity, or so they say, but they can’t be trusted to tell the truth because of such-and-such.

A couple sitting behind Zayne, right beside the entrance to the gift shop, seem to be on their first date. The guy is talking a lot, even speaking over the girl he’s with at some points. You try not to stare when she suddenly blows up about him not listening to her. He talks over her again to try defending himself. It gets so bad, two staff have to tell them to leave so they stop disturbing everyone else. They don’t even get their food as they stomp out, continuing to complain all the while. Zayne shoots you a look that says he knows you’ll be using this for your writing at some point down the line.

Bellies nearly full, with just enough left for a dessert crepe, Zayne takes a moment to take in the decor. There’s one sign high up on the wall that says, “If you remember the 60s, you weren’t there!” It must be quite old. Really, all of the stuff in here could be considered antique. It’s fascinating to see it being appreciated instead of locked away behind glass; given the chance to live again.

“Feeling better?” he asks as he leads you back to his car, parked in a lot nearby.

“Mhm. But now I keep thinking…”

“About what?”

“How glad I am that none of our dates went that poorly.”

He chuckles softly. You smile and hold onto his arm, leaning into him. “Well, there was that time early on…”

You laugh at the memory. “You should have gone right home! I told you not to worry about dinner!”

“I couldn’t leave you to eat at that restaurant alone, exhausted or otherwise.”

“But then I had to drive you back home, anyway! You know how I don’t like driving your car.”

The car in question unlocks with a beep. He opens up the passenger side door for you to get in. “I’m glad my perseverance didn’t ruin your opinion of me,” he says, before shutting the door and rounding the car to get into the driver’s seat.

Once he gets in, you poke his arm. “Of course not. It just meant I had to get on your ass more about overworking yourself.”

“Yet you still ignore my advice…” He gives you a pointed glance as he starts the car. “Do I have to start getting on your ass about overworking yourself?”

“You already are!”

“I could be far more insistent about it than I currently am.”

“Please don’t.”

-

The park by the hospital is familiar and welcoming, as always. A light breeze caresses your cheeks as you start walking side by side, and you’re glad you dressed warmly like Zayne said to. Still, you may or may not have used it as an excuse to walk even closer to him, to “conserve heat” as you fake a shiver. He’s so used to your antics by now, he teases you about the possibility of keeping an extra coat and scarf in his car for you.

The people at the crepe stand know you already. You try not to think about how often you must visit for that to be the case, as they ask if you want your usuals and get to building the crepes exactly as you like. Zayne is just patient enough to let you take a quick photo of both of your treats together to post on Moments. You fondly wipe away a small glop of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth that he misses, and he catches your hand before you can put it on his nose instead.

You walk to a secluded little bench that you’ve practically claimed for yourselves. You’ve never seen anyone else sit here, ever. It’s tucked away beside a small pond, where ducks huddle together as they float, flat beaks tucked under their wings as they enjoy an afternoon nap. The bench itself is old and worn down, covered in lichen and carved into by old lovers. But it’s yours.

You sit side by side, watching the waterfowl and enjoying your treats. When you finish your crepe, you lean your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist to keep you close, indulging in being a little more affectionate in the extra bit of privacy you have here. It feels nice, just being here with him.

“Thank you again for this,” you say softly. You can’t fight the smile that appears on your face when you feel his head rest on top of yours. “The head editor has been hounding us all lately to write something spectacular. As much as I love working for the paper, sometimes it makes writing painful.”

He hums in understanding. His fingers trace mindless shapes against your hip, only stopping when you squirm from how ticklish it is. “You went into a job that makes your hobby into work, but that detracts from the relaxing, fun experience it used to be.”

You sigh. “Yeah. And then the stuff I do end up writing for fun, I hoard to myself. I haven’t done that for years, because I like sharing my stuff with other people. Now, it’s like I have to keep that little scrap of joy all to myself.” You close your eyes and turn your head to press your cold nose against his jacket lapel. “I know I should just quit and find something else to do, but even if I want to write a novel or a book of my own, I’d still be turning my hobby into a job.”

“You would be able to work at your own pace.”

“Then who’s to say I’ll ever finish anything to be able to publish it?”

“What would happen if you didn’t publish anything?” he counters. “Aside from posting on the internet.”

You pause for a minute. If you did quit, start writing for yourself and decide to write a novel, what would happen if it never got published? There wouldn’t be an editor or boss looking over your shoulder, hounding you about deadlines or appealing to a larger audience. And there wouldn’t be people expecting a novel from you unless you bring it up yourself. You could work on a secret project for years with Zayne as your only witness and there would be no worrying about other people getting hype and losing interest when you take longer than expected. Sure, you wouldn’t get paid, but money wasn’t a concern with Zayne’s career, and you could always do a little freelance if you felt like it, or find another job that doesn’t involve writing, so you can keep it as a hobby all to yourself again.

You sigh, as though a huge burden has been lifted from your shoulders, and lean a bit heavier into his side. He welcomes it easily, adjusting his arm to wrap around your back so he can rub your arm. “I’ll put in my two weeks notice tomorrow,” you tell him. “Which means I still have to figure out what to write about for this assignment.”

“You’ll think of something,” he assures. “You can always write about that girl and her stolen dog.”

You chuckle. “Her parents will post up flyers about a missing dog, and an employee at the pound will see it. It’ll be a huge scandal. And just when she thinks she’ll have to give up the dog - which they’ve named Sir Butterton the Third - her parents will finally relent and adopt it.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, and he smiles down at you with those ever-calming hazel eyes of his. “See? You’ve already got a plot synopsis. The rest will come naturally.” He squeezes your hand, which has grown cold after spending so long in the cool breeze and autumn weather. “Now, we should get you home before you catch a cold.”

“You’re out here, too! You could catch a cold just as easily.”

“All the more reason to hurry back.” He stands first and helps you from the old bench. You’re not sure he even consciously thinks about it before doing up your jacket to keep the cold air from getting in. You don’t mind. It gives you a chance to admire the man you’ve chosen as your life partner. He gives you a questioning look. “What’s on your mind now?”

You smile and reach up to playfully adjust his scarf. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering who I should base the dad on in my story.”

His ears turn pink, but he shakes his head, taking your hand from his scarf and leading you back toward the car. “If that’s the case, I would recommend a different name for the dog in your story.”

“Oh? What should it be, then?”

“Aprotinin.”

“I’m not naming the dog after a drug!”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[bbutterflies]

alyanette kiss for drabble prompts 👀

hi kayla!!! sorry this took me a million years but I hope it’s worth the wait!! 🩷🤍🧡

Marinette’s life is complicated. Balancing being a teenage girl and a superhero and a student and the guardian and a daughter is hard. But even then, she knows what she likes.

Marinette likes designing, the sound of pencil on the page and the thrill of her ideas coming to life. Marinette likes baking, following recipes she’s had memorized for years and the easy way she can hold piping bags in her hands. Marinette likes sewing, the familiar whir of her machine soothing on even her worst days. Marinette likes Alya’s lip gloss.

But that one is new, so she’s not sure why she likes it so much.

Marinette likes boys – she knows that, has always known that. But she’s not with a boy today. She’s with Alya, alone. Having a picnic.

And Alya is wearing a really pretty lip gloss.

Marinette’s not quite sure why she’s so drawn to it. It’s subtle, a little pink, just a bit of shimmer, but she notices. She knows Alya doesn’t usually wear it. Alya doesn’t usually wear the floral spring dress she’s wearing, either, but Marinette quite likes it too. Well, of course she does – she designed it, a birthday present for Alya. But she really likes it when Alya wears it.

Marinette knows she doesn’t have it all figured out, of course, but… she’s more confused than usual right now.

Alya is sitting next to her, legs tucked against her side. Her hair is down, caught in the gentle breeze, and she keeps tucking it behind her ear. Marinette could watch her do that all day, she thinks. She’d be quite content.

Alya is peeling an orange, and she offers Marinette a slice. Marinette takes it, of course.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Alya says with a smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Me, too,” Marinette says. “This is really nice.” She looks around at the blanket Alya has brought for them, baby pink and soft, and the wicker picnic basket sitting on top filled with snacks and drinks. She takes a bite of the orange in her hands.

Alya returns to peeling, carefully digging her nails into the skin of the orange and exposing the fruit. “I, um, I really like spending time with you,” she says.

Marinette watches her, mouth agape. She’s not quite sure how to respond.

“You’re incredible, Mari,” Alya continues as she pulls off the last piece of orange skin. “I’ve always thought that. I knew it from the day we met.”

“Oh,” Marinette breathes. Alya has complimented her before, but this… it’s different in a way she can’t put her finger on.

The wind picks up and pulls Alya’s hair loose. Marinette’s hand is there to fix it before Alya’s.

Marinette isn’t sure why she does it, but it’s happening before she even realizes it. She gently tucks the hair back in place, her fingers lingering near Alya’s cheek. She likes being close to Alya.

Alya smiles.

They don’t talk. The moment stretches into eternity. Marinette keeps her hand where it is, an offer, though she’s not sure what she’s asking for. She just knows she likes it, and it seems like Alya likes it, too.

But Alya doesn’t move, so Marinette lowers her hand. Her aim is to bring it back to her lap, but Alya catches it first. Gently, carefully, Alya holds her hand.

Marinette notices Alya’s nail polish. Warm pink, soft orange, the sunset encapsulated. Alya’s hand is soft and warm. Marinette already knows this, has felt Alya’s hands before when they paint each other’s nails or Alya holds her back from a wayward plan going awry.

But this is different. Alya holds gently, carefully. She’s making her own offer, Marinette realizes.

Marinette seizes it. She moves slowly, in case Alya wants to change her mind and pull away. But Alya doesn’t. They intertwine their fingers and hold each other tight.

Maybe… maybe Marinette likes Alya. Likes her as more than her best friend. Because she loves the way their hands fit together, and she’s still drawn to Alya’s lip gloss and maybe it’s less about the gloss and more about who’s wearing it.

“I really like you,” Alya whispers. She meets Marinette eyes and smiles, confident. Her voice is louder. “I really like you,” she repeats. “And if you just want to stay friends, that’s okay, too. But I wanted to tell you anyway.”

Oh.

The pieces fall into place like dominos to spell out a beautiful pattern, and Marinette realizes it all at once.

She likes girls. She likes Alya, actually. Of course she does.

Marinette scoots a little closer on the blanket. Alya responds with a breath let loose and a glowing smile. She’s never been good with words, always trips over her feet on her way to the point, but Marinette doesn’t think she needs to say anything right now to express herself quite clearly to Alya.

She leans closer. Alya meets her halfway.

Alya’s lips are soft. She tastes like cherry and oranges and pure bliss. She feels like home, familiar and safe and always pulling Marinette right back in. Marinette knows instantly she’s stuck in Alya’s orbit, and she’ll never need to be anywhere else.

Alya pulls back with a giddy smile, her heart bared between her teeth, and Marinette knows she’s a mirror image.

Marinette likes this. Loves it, even. And she’s quite sure about it.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Hey Jealousy

Roy Kent x Teacher!Reader

Warnings: Language, jealous reader, Keeley being a menace

1.9k words

Teach Me Tonight Masterlist

At the school, 9:30. See you there!

You re-read Roy Kent’s text for the millionth time as you got ready. He had invited you to the scrimmage; not a parent, not the girls, Roy. That meant something, right? After the ice cream and the dancing and all the smiles, it had to mean something.

Some silly love song played on your phone as you pulled on a jean jacket over your simple dress, the cute kind you liked to wear to work, choosing to keep your hair down instead of pulling it up, and putting on your normal amount of makeup instead of your light weekend look. Alright, so you were dolling yourself up for Roy Kent. So what? He was a gorgeous footballer who blushed when you were around. You’d be crazy not to be excited about him.

When you stopped at the coffee shop around the corner to get yourself a cup, you decided to do something uncharacteristically bold: you bought a cup for Roy Kent. You tossed a few sweeteners in your pocket, wondering how Roy liked his coffee. Maybe you could ask him when you gave him this cup. Maybe you could suggest the two of you grab coffee sometime.

The idea floated around your mind as you walked to the field, vibrating with anticipation. You’re here for the girls, you reminded yourself as you got closer to the pitch. You’re here to see your students. To cheer them on and support them.

Oh, who were you kidding?

Roy’s face lit up at the sight of you. “Morning!” he called, eyes drawn to the two cups in your hand as he approached. “Rough night?”

“Oh.” Suddenly, the boldness that urged you to buy the second cup disappeared. “Um, thought you might, I dunno, need a cup?” You held out the paper cup, suddenly feeling like you’d done exactly the wrong thing. “Besides, I owe you, remember?”

Roy felt his entire body soften at the anxious look on your face. Fuck. You had to be the biggest sweetheart he’d ever met in his fucking life. “Wow,” he murmured, taking the coffee you offered. “Thanks.”

“I, uh, got you some sweetener. Didn’t know how you like it.” You pulled the packets out of your pocket, wincing when a couple fell onto the grass.

Clearly amused, Roy bent down and picked up the packets, stuffing them into his own pocket. “I drink it black,” he said simply. After a moment, he smiled. “Thank you. Honestly. That’s… that’s very sweet of you.” Roy wanted to punch himself; sweet. He never called things sweet.

But you? Yeah, you were sweet.

“Oi! Coach! Get your butt over here!”

Your smile faltered when you saw the blonde woman waving at Roy from the sideline. Gorgeous; of course she was gorgeous. She was the kind of beautiful that made you want to go home, crawl into bed, and forget you’d ever met Roy Kent.

Roy was too busy reeling from the fact that you’d brought him coffee to notice the sudden change in your expression. “Better get to the team,” he chuckled. “Wish us luck, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. Fucking idiot, you thought as Roy saluted to you and hustled over to the waiting team and the beautiful woman who smiled at him. You stood alone on the sideline, offering tense smiles to the parents who waved at you, pretending to watch the girls settle on the pitch. Although you tried to watch the match, your eyes kept wandering to Roy and that woman. She cheered loudly for the team, calling out the names of your students with enthusiasm, especially for Phoebe.

Obviously Roy Kent had a girlfriend. Why wouldn’t he? He was gorgeous, and kind, and funny, and doted on his niece, not to mention famous. Had you really been dumb enough to think he’d be available, let alone interested in you?

It was a miserable first half of the scrimmage. You couldn’t recall anything about who scored or who made what play or who got fouled. All you could focus on was the way the woman chattered in Roy’s ear as he coached, prompting playful eyerolls and light shoves and smirks from the gaffer, eyerolls and shoves and smirks you wished you were receiving.

When the half ended, Roy gathered the girls, shouting about how well they’d done and what they needed to adjust. Once the girls were settled in the grass with their waters, the woman nudged Roy, nodding in your direction. With another perfect eyeroll, Roy strolled over, the beautiful woman in tow.

“This is Keeley,” he huffed simply, nodding towards the woman who was smiling broadly at you.

“Hi!” she chirped, shaking your hand warmly. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard loads about you.” You were so busy feeling humiliated, you missed the teasing look she shot a blushing Roy.

Damn it. She was nice. Of course she was nice; nice and annoyingly gorgeous, that was the kind of woman Roy Kent would be with. As you mumbled something about it being nice to meet her, you realized you recognized her from an advertisement you’d seen in a magazine. A model. Roy was dating a beautiful, friendly model. Yeah, that made much more sense than Roy Kent dating a teacher.

Keeley’s gaze shifted back and forth between you and Roy, recognizing the eager look on Roy’s face. “Gonna go give the girls their orange slices,” she hummed. “See you in a minute, Roy-o.”

You watched Keeley walk away, unable to take your eyes off of her and terrified of looking at Roy. “She’s pretty,” you murmured, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Hmm?” Roy blinked a few times, finally noting the way you avoided his gaze. “Keeley? Yeah, sure.” He took a small step towards you. “But look at you,” he mused, his eyes trailing down your figure. “Still being a fucking distraction, huh?” He raised his eyebrows at you. “I like that dress.”

Dammit. It felt like you were about to cry like a silly child when you huffed and folded your arms. “Careful, Coach. Best not let your girlfriend hear you.”

Roy stared at you in utter confusion, brows furrowed and mouth open. “My girl-?” His eyes widened. “Oh fuck.” The way he rapidly shook his head was almost comical. “No, no, no. Keeley’s not my girlfriend. She’s my friend. I mean, she used to be my girlfriend. But she’s not anymore. We’re just friends. And she and Pheebs are really close still. But we’re just-”

“Oh my God, she gets it Roy, you’re single and very available.”

Roy had been so busy trying to reassure you, he’d missed Keeley walking back over, holding a plastic bowl of sliced oranges and wearing a shit-eating grin. She held out the bowl to you with a wink; you felt like you had no choice but to take a slice.

“He’s right, by the way,” Keeley pipped up. “We’re just friends. Broke up ages ago.” She leaned in close and fake-whispered, “The sex was just too good.”

It was hard to decide if you or Roy was flushing more furiously, but either way Keeley felt a smug satisfaction. For weeks now she’d watched Roy practically sprint out of the building to pick up Phoebe and listened to him mumble about how nice Phoebe’s teacher was as he tried to fight a smile. Keeley knew what Roy looked like when he was smitten, and it was painfully obvious now. And, if the way your face fell when you’d first spotted Keeley was any indication, the attraction was very mutual.

“Bye Keeley,” Roy huffed, shoving the giggling blonde away. He turned to you, suddenly bashful. “Sorry about her,” he mumbled. “See you after the match, yeah?”

Pretending that your heart wasn’t slamming into your chest and fighting off a grin, you nodded. “See you after,” you echoed.

Not his girlfriend, you thought to yourself, munching on the orange slice Keeley had given you. She’s not his girlfriend.

His insistent words echoed through your head during the second half, bouncing around while you cheered on your students to a thrilling win. It was a good thing they won, because nothing could wipe the goofy smile off of your face, especially when Roy Kent flashed you a grin before addressing his team with gruff expletives that had the girls giggling.

Once the girls were dismissed, they scrambled over to you, thanking you for coming with smiles and hugs. You returned their embraces, telling them how well they’d done and trying to ignore the gaze of their coach. Finally, only Phoebe lingered by you, chattering rapidly about the goal she’d scored in the second half.

“-and then, did you see the way I dribbled right past number seven? And then-”

“Hey Phoebe!” Keeley waved the girl over. “Could you help me pack up the snacks?”

Your student took off, intent on getting her hands on the leftover crisps and treats Keeley had passed out to the team, leaving you alone with her smirking uncle. He raised his eyebrows at you, mouth half-open, words caught in his throat. Finally, he gave a little cough and remembered how to speak.

“Thanks for coming. I… I’m glad you came.”

Roy Kent was glad you came.

The smile you wore must have been massive, but for once you didn’t care. “I am too.”

Before either of you could do anything other than stand there, smiling stupidly and blushing, Keeley and Phoebe sauntered over, hand in hand. Keeley smirked at the sight of the two of you, sensing the need for the smallest of pushes. She cleared her throat, bringing you both out of your dreamy staring contest.

“Pheebs and I have an ice cream date,” she announced, raising her eyebrows pointedly at Roy. “So, looks like you have a free afternoon, Coach.” With those last few words, she gave an exaggerated nod towards you, much to Roy’s embarrassment. “We’ll see you kids later.” With a wink, she gave Phoebe’s hand a tug and strolled away with the little girl in tow.

After a moment of silently watching the two walk towards the parking lot, Roy cleared his throat and turned to you, thick eyebrows raised. “Don’t suppose you’d, I dunno, want to get lunch?”

Holy shit, holy shit. “Lunch?” you echoed, your eyes wide as you looked up at Roy. He had to have misspoken, right?

That perfect smile assured you that he hadn’t. “Yeah, lunch,” he repeated with a soft chuckle, standing up straighter now. Fuck, you looked nervous. Adorable and nervous. “You know, we go to a restaurant, sit down, you do that thing where you pretend you want a salad, I tell you to fuck off and get a burger like you actually want, and after you order it, I make some fucking comment about how I like a woman who can eat.” He shifted his weight, smile widening at your deepening blush. “Then at the end, you try to grab the bill, and, again, I tell you to fuck off because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you pay.” He bobbled his head in that jittery way of his. “What d’you say?”

“Oh,” you breathed, feeling yourself drown in those brown eyes. “I… Well…”

“Oi.” Roy’s voice was soft as he took a small step towards you. “Come on, you can’t say no,” he teased. “My team just won, I’m feeling damn good about myself right now. You really want to burst my fucking bubble and make me miserable for the rest of the weekend?”

The easy-going smirk he wore had your hesitation melting almost as much as your heart. “Sure,” you finally giggled, wondering if your head had ever felt this light before. “Lunch would be nice.”

Taglist:@infinetlyforgotten @gothicwidowsworld@taytaylala12@amieinghigh@klaine-92@misshall14@rosesheerio@goose-101@gee72sstuff@alainabooks143@lwritesstuff@hayden-maximoff@optimisticsandwichgladiator @veryprairieberry @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @jaymum@shakespeareanwannabe@axelsagewrites@kidd3ath @brainscabs @v-nest@just35yrsandtrying @idk1234567 @ohwauwdoritos @wearethecanadians @deliriousfangirl61 @laukora1030 @its-a-show-stoppin-number

[acciofanfics]

An Arrangement - Regulus Black (Part One)

Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader

Warnings: Arranged marriage.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: So, this is a rewrite of a series that was started on this blog a little while ago. I’ve fallen down a Regulus Black rabbit hole so expect plenty of more content about him 😆

The Black Manor’s sitting room was colder than she’d imagined it to be. Only a few feet from her, the fireplace crackled, illuminating the small and otherwise mostly dark space. The curtains were drawn, as were most of the others in the area, keeping away any prying eyes. The rise of the Dark Lord had brought suspicion to many of the older, more renowned pure-blood families.

Despite the fire, she shivered, and tried to steady her breathing. She tried to focus on the hideous floral couch she was currently sitting on, surely picked out by the matriarch of the Black clan, but her eyes wandered to Regulus, who occupied the space next to her. His presence did little to ease the wave of pure dread threatening to overtake her at any moment, as it was a reminder of why she was there in the first place.

Walburga, as well as her own mother had gone to a more private area to discuss the business aspect of their arrangement, leaving her and Regulus alone. She couldn’t say that she fully understood the logic. She and Regulus were old enough to commit to an unbreakable vow, but apparently too young to be included in the conversation regarding such.

An old wooden piano played itself in the corner, surely enchanted in order to keep them from listening in on what their mothers were saying. It worked, for the most part, but every once in a while, she could hear a laugh escape from either Walburga or her mother. Strange… she didn’t know they were capable of such a thing.

“You look quite thrilled.” Regulus’ hushed voice cut through the nearly deafening quietness between the two of them. The statement, she assumed, was meant to be a harmless attempt at conversation, but she couldn’t help but find it to be tone-deaf given the circumstances. How could she be? She hadn’t even been asked if she was content with essentially signing the rest of her life over to the Black family. In fact, any protest she made was met with a dismissive wave of the hand. After all, she should be grateful.it was every young witch’s dream to marry a wealthy (her mother was sure to emphasize that part) pure-blood wizard after finishing school; especially given the uncertain, trying times that they were living in. She’d just made it easier for her, given her supposed apathy towards developing her love life.

“And I suppose you are?” She raised an eyebrow. Her tone had come off a bit harsher than she’d intended, but she felt as though at least a little slack was deserved on her part.

“Sure.” He offered a charming smile, making her guilt towards the previous interaction swell. “I mean, why wouldn’t I be? I’ll get to be married to a woman that looks like you with little to no effort. Not to mention, there’s the added bonus that our children will be gorgeous.” She cringed at the mention of children, though she supposed that would be expected of her. She couldn’t decide whether she found his nonchalance to be infuriating or flattering in a way. At least she could take solace in that he didn’t find the idea of marrying her to be repulsive, though she couldn’t say the same for herself. It wasn’t anything against Regulus. She found him to be quite handsome, actually. She probably would’ve fawned over the idea of being so close to him if it had been under different circumstances, but that didn’t mean that she loved him. The issue came up with the fact that she didn’t know him. Their parents had been close, but that dynamic didn’t extend to their children. She wasn’t even sure if she’d had a full conversation with him until now.

“I suppose in a way, it would be easier.” She let out a soft, unconvincing chuckle. Whether he meant the words of flattery or not, she would never know, but it did help to lighten the mood just a little bit.

“Exactly. There shouldn’t be any in-law strife to worry about,” Regulus added.

“Definitely not. They know each other better than we do,” (Y/N) let out a scoff laced with annoyance.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have plenty of time to remedy that after today.”

“Yeah, our whole lives.” She averted her eyes from the boy.

“Oh, come on. I can’t be that bad, can I?” Regulus feigned offense, though when she glanced back over to him, she couldn’t help but notice a glint in his green eyes that suggested that perhaps he did feel somewhat slighted by the remark.

“No, not at all. You seem perfectly pleasant, actually. It’s just when I envisioned getting married, I just imagined it would be to someone I’d chosen for myself.” The elaboration seemed to momentarily appease the boy, though it wasn’t long before he spoke again.

“I always imagined that this was how I’d meet my future wife.” He shrugged, reclining back onto the sofa. “I suppose that’s why I never spent a lot of time dwelling on courting anyone. Although, I can say that I’m happy that it’s to you and not to some of the others that Mother suggested.” He shuddered.

“Well, I appreciate that, I think.” She furrowed her brow, trying to decipher whether it was meant to be a compliment. Regulus let out a soft laugh at her response, running his hand through the mess of black curls on his head.

“You’re quite cute when you’re confused, you know.” She pouted at the remark.

“You’d find me adorable in potions class, then.”

“Regulus, darling, bring (Y/N) into the dining room, we’re ready for the two of you.” Walburga’s voice turned her blood to ice. She’d almost been distracted from the reason that she was here in the first place, though she wasn’t sure how.

Regulus stood and her soon-to-be husband extended his hand to escort her. “Ready?” He seemed perfectly content with what was happening, she didn’t understand it. Even if he had envisioned this would be how his wedding day would go, wasn’t he the least bit worried? An unbreakable vow was a serious commitment; it was–well–unbreakable.

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose,” she murmured, accepting his hand. He guided her to the dining room and she couldn’t help but notice that his hands were softer than she’d imagined, and that she didn’t not enjoy the feeling of her hand in his. Even so, she wasn’t sure that they were at the point that marriage should be a consideration, but if it had to be anyone, she was more at ease with it being him.

As soon as they entered the room, it felt as though all of the air had been turned to molasses, determined to suffocate her. It was difficult to even draw a breath without it feeling as though her heart would explode from the pressure.

Their house elf, Kreacher, was in the corner, scrubbing the floor, though she was sure that he was focused more on the events about to unfold.

“Poor girl looks terrified.” Mrs. Black smiled, though the sentiment was laced with a twinge of annoyance, she noticed.

(Y/N) spoke quickly, to avoid any offense being taken by the older woman. “I’m sorry, I was just wondering if it hurt, that’s all.”

Walburga’s demeanor changed almost instantaneously. A relieved chuckle escaped from both her and her mother. As long as her lack of enthusiasm had nothing to do with Regulus, they weren’t concerned. She wasn’t surprised. Her own feelings hadn’t been a question throughout the whole ordeal, why would they be now?

She wished that she weren’t such a good daughter. Otherwise, she would’ve run away half an hour ago when they’d left her and Regulus. It meant a lot to her parents, though, and despite the fact that they didn’t care what she felt, she did care about their thoughts and feelings.

“No more than a sting,” Walburga explained, a grin on her face. She couldn’t tell if it was comforting or unsettling. The Blacks had a way of charming those around them, making it hard to determine whether their words were sincere.

Her eyes flitted to Regulus who wore the same unbothered expression that he’d had all morning. She laced her fingers with his once more and tried to ease the pounding of her heart. Every fiber of her being wanted to bolt, but she remained frozen in place as Walburga readied her wand, focusing on their intertwined hands.

“Okay, Regulus. Just like I told you, okay?”

“(Y/N), do you vow to become my wife after completing our studies, with the intention of starting a family and to love no other.” Regulus spoke confidently, as though it had been rehearsed, though she supposed it probably had. As he’d said earlier, this was always how he’d expected meeting his wife.

He shot her a small, rather sweet smile. His eyes never left hers as she spoke her own words of commitment. “Yes, provided you do the same.” The words felt like poison as they exited her lips. Regulus didn’t seem to notice her apprehension, or maybe he just didn’t care. That seemed to be a common occurrence lately.

“Of course.”

Walburga mumbled the spell under her breath and three streams of light emerged from the tip of her wand and wrapped around their conjoined hands. Walburga had been telling the truth, there was only a slight sting, no worse than the feeling of one of your limbs waking up after being asleep for a period. The sting didn’t linger for too long, but the nagging feeling of dread still hadn’t gone away.

That was it. There was no lasting indication of their now permanent bond, but she wasn’t sure if she would ever feel at ease again. She felt tears prick at her eyes, but she did her best to will them away. She couldn’t cry now. It was already done. The only thing crying would accomplish was further annoying Walburga and her mother.

“Perfect!” Walburga cheered, enveloping both her and Regulus into a hug. “Now, we must celebrate!”

She didn’t feel like celebrating. In fact, she didn’t feel much of anything. Her mother patted her shoulder and placed a kiss on her temple. “I’m so proud of you.”

She couldn’t figure out why that was. She hadn’t done or contributed anything to the pairing. It was all her mother and Walburga’s doing. Perhaps, Regulus was involved somehow as well, but he hadn’t given any indication that he had any more knowledge than she did.

“Kreacher, prepare the table and fetch the men,” Walburga ordered. The house elf obliged, placing the utensils and dishes at each seat before heading off to find Orion and her father. Why they hadn’t been present for the actual ceremony, she didn’t know. They were probably discussing matters of higher importance regarding the current political climate.

It didn’t matter to her either way. It was uncomfortable enough with those who were present, she didn’t mind not having extra eyes watching her being shackled to the Black clan.

Kreacher was back within moments, the two men in tow.

“So it’s done then?” Orion’s voice boomed, though there was no interest in the statement. This was clearly a match set up by their mothers because as it seemed, there was little to no concern from their fathers.

“Yes, it’s done.” Walburga said cheerily as they all took their seats.

“Wonderful,” her father clapped his hands. “Isn’t this exciting?” He looked to her. She nodded with a fake smile, though he didn’t notice.

“Are you alright?” Regulus’ breath was hot against her ear. She hadn’t even noticed that he was sitting next to her.

“Yeah, fine.” She didn’t mean to be blunt, but her brain couldn’t come up with anything more. “Just a bit overwhelmed is all.”

“My mother does tend to have that effect on most people.” Walburga was too busy chatting with her parents over the food that she didn’t notice Regulus’ remark. (Y/N) tried to hide the smile forming, but it was quite difficult given that she’d been thinking the same thing.

She was quiet for the rest of the dinner, merely pushing the food around her plate so as not to offend the chef (whoever that may be) by thinking that she hadn’t eaten anything. Regulus was far more outgoing, chatting with her parents about whatever topic they had landed on. She thought that they might like him more than her honestly.

She couldn’t say that she felt better about the situation once the dinner was finally over. In fact, she possibly felt worse. She had nothing against the Blacks, or Regulus, but she felt trapped. Every move she made henceforth would not only be monitored by her own parents, but by her in-laws and fiancee as well. The only part that made her feel slightly better was that she wouldn’t have to face Regulus again until they were at Hogwarts, so she had a couple of weeks to try and come to terms with her new life.