#and one or two here and there because I don't think I have it in me to write anything within 500 words

[bomberqueen17]

How To Shop For Fabric Online

RIP Joann's. Now many places in the US no longer have a local fabric store, such as it even was toward the end.

There are some good posts going around about where to shop for fabric and craft supplies online, like this one for example. But if you're a beginner-to-intermediate sewist, and the way you've always shopped for fabric is by going to the store and touching it, it can be a hard, even cruel adjustment to suddenly be looking at a photo online and trying to piece together from the inconsistent descriptions what you're actually looking at.

So I'm going to just try to bang together a little primer on What Things Are Called, and how to educate yourself, so that you don't have to do what I did and just buy a ton of inappropriate stuff you wound up not being able to use for what you'd thought. And I will link to some resources that will help with this. This will be garment-sewing-centric but will, I think, be fairly broadly applicable.

The first thing is to look carefully at your desired project. If it is a commercial pattern, it will usually tell you what kind of fabric you need, but it will describe it in not the same words it's often sold under. If it is NOT a commercial pattern and you're kind of winging it, it's even harder. So here is how to start figuring out what you need.

Number one: Knit or Woven?

Quilting fabric is woven. If you are making a quilt, you want a woven. Most craft projects are made with woven fabric-- tote bags, upholstery, you name it.

Many garments are knits. T-shirts, yoga pants, cardigans. It is easy to know, because knits stretch. They can either stretch both ways (along the length and along the width) or just one way (usually along the width); this is confusingly either called 2-way stretch or 4-way stretch. Yes, stores are inconsistent. Look carefully at the description, and they will usually specify-- "along the grain" or "in all directions". Some garments require stretch only around the body-- maxi skirts, knit dresses etc-- while some absolutely need stretch both ways, like bathing suits.

No, you absolutely cannot clone your favorite knit t-shirt in quilting cotton. It will not fit. Most knit garments have "negative ease", meaning they are smaller than your body and stretch to fit. All woven garments have "positive ease", meaning they are larger than your body, unless very firm shaping undergarments are used.

SMALL EXCEPTION: There exist "stretch wovens", which are woven fabrics made with elastic fibers. These will be labeled as such. They are actually harder to sew with than regular wovens because they almost never have their stretch percentage labeled; they are NOT suitable for knit patterns. Avoid them, until you are more advanced and know how to accomodate them, is my advice!

Number two: WEIGHT.

How heavy is the fabric? How thick? How thin? This is measured in two main ways-- ounces per yard (denim is often 8oz, 10 oz, 12 oz) or grams per square meter. But many fabric retailers do not tell you a weight, they use words like "bottomweight" or "dress-weight", and you have to learn to figure out what they mean by that.

My lifehack for learning these has been go to go to ready-to-wear clothing retailers and see if they give the weights of the fabric their garments are made from. (Yes, I learned how to shop for clothes online instead of in-store years ago, because I am fat; some of us have had to do this a long time.)

If you are making a pair of trousers, you need heavier fabric than if you are making a blouse. Do not buy a floaty translucent chiffon to make your work trousers, it will not work no matter how cute the color is. Learn how the different weights of fabric are described, and you will improve your odds of finding what you need.

Number three: DRAPE.

Is it stiff? Is it fluid? Is it soft? is it firm? There are a lot of very artsy words used for this, and you may find yourself puzzling over things with a fluid hand, or a dry, crisp hand, or "a lot of drape", or maybe the listing doesn't describe it at all. This segues neatly into another technical thing, which is the WEAVE of the fabric. There is a dizzying array of words that tell you what kind of fabric it is-- twill, tabby, challis, chiffon, crepe, organza, georgette. And these will give you insight into the drape, and thus into the texture/usability of this fabric, and how suitable it may or may not be for your project.

I know it's a lot to think about but I am now going to give you resources for where to see all this stuff.

Number one is Mood Fabrics, which I can't believe hasn't been in any of the posts I've seen so far. They are a huge store in NYC's Fashion District and yes you can go there, but when I went there it overwhelmed me so much I left empty-handed. But what they have is AN INCREDIBLE WEBSITE. They have everything on there, and what's most important for you, their listings are INCREDIBLY consistent. They have VIDEOS of many of the fabrics, where a sales associate will hold it, wave it, stretch it, and tell you verbally what it is and what it's for, in about thirty seconds. HUNDREDS of these videos.

Whether you want to buy from them or not, go to Mood Fabrics, click around, find their listings, and read them. They will tell you fabric content, weight (usually gsm), often weave, they have little graphics that show you if it's for pants, dresses, shirts. And they have those videos. Look at the listings, watch the videos, and you will leave knowing a lot more about how to look at an online listing of fabric and know what you're getting.

Another really excellent website for this is Stonemountain & Daughter. I've actually not bought anything from them yet (they came highly recommended, but they're not cheap), but their online listings are, again, very thorough and very detailed. They always have a picture of the fabric with a fold in it held in place by a pin, which does more to help you understand the weight and drape of a fabric than any other static image ever could-- that visual, combined with how informative the listings are, has helped me learn to estimate fabric weights on other sites very effectively.

And here is a page that's ostensibly about how to wash silk, but I found it so useful because it gives such a clear image of what each weave/type of silk fabric looks and drapes like. I've never bought anything from these guys either, but this is a good resource.

Learn a little bit about fabric so you know what you're looking for, and you can begin to replace some of that "i just have to go and feel it in person" problem. There will still be trial and error, but you'll have a better starting place at least.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Neighbour - Noncon

With your electricity out and your devices dead, you have no choice but to turn to your neighbour for help. He's more than willing to welcome you into his home. Really, you're lucky he's such a nice guy.

Tags: male yandere x gender neutral reader, noncon, somno, just the tip anal, daddy kink but only if you squint, 3.3k words

Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

But after the third day with no electricity, those perks were starting to look pretty damn weak. Your fridge was sitting in an ever expanding puddle. Almost all your devices were dead. And if you had to take one more cold shower you were going to cry.

It was when you were digging through your drawer looking for desperately needed batteries that you found your neighbour's number. He'd offered it to you a little while after you moved in, and while you two were on friendly terms, you'd never actually spoken for longer than a few minutes. You sighed, looked at the 10% left on your phone and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

You: hey, it's me. I still haven't got any power. Do you mind if I come over to charge some stuff?

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: aww that sucks

Unknown: come on over. I've got hot stew and a generator

Unknown: and you can take a hot shower too if you want

Score. And to think you found him intimidating at first. Just goes to show that you can't judge on appearances. You packed a change of clothes, your devices and the last tub of ice cream that wasn't totally melted. You'd find some way to properly pay him back but a tub of chocolate fudge double cream wasn't a bad way to start.

He was waiting on his porch when you pulled up. A bear of a man in a flannel and blue jeans, a five o' clock shadow darkening his jaw.

"Howdy neighbour," he drawled, opening your door for you while you grabbed your stuff. "Regretting leaving the city yet?"

You huffed a laugh. "You do NOT want to know the answer to that."

His cabin was much larger than yours, a two storey behemoth with wide windows and exposed beams. It had a rustic charm - like some natural park Air BnB where they charged a weeks pay for just one night. A little too big for just one man. Didn't he get lonely?

"I brought some ice cream and chocolate to say thank you. And also because it miiight have been melting."

He opened the door for you and ushered you through with a hand on your lower back.

"Hell, I'll never say no to something sweet."

There was a fire burning in the fireplace and a stack of logs in a crate next to it. He was so much better suited to this life than you were. He locked the door behind you and slipped the keys into his pocket.

"Old habit," he explained with an easy grin.

"Why don't you get settled? I'll plug your stuff in."

You handed over your tech with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Really. I'm so behind on work already and I haven't heard anything back from the power company."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said. "Once ended up going a week straight with not even a light bulb flickering."

You winced. "It gets that bad?"

"Yep. Especially in winter. Gets dangerous then too."

He tilted his head at you, concerned. "You need to get yourself better sorted before it starts snowing. I hate to think of you stuck out there when the blizzards start rolling in."

God, could you be any more of a city slicker? You rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"Thanks. I've been here a few months now and I guess I just didn't realise how serious things can get."

"It's all good. But if I'm honest, I get worried thinking about you out there all alone. Plenty of drifters end up passing through. Not a good place to be alone, not for a little thing like yourself."

Little? You wanted to feel indignant, but looking at his bulk, you reckoned that most folk probably seemed little to him.

He lead you to the fireplace and poured you a mug of coffee from the pot that was waiting for you. He jerked his head at the hunting rifle on display above the mantle.

"I can teach you to shoot, if you've got some free time."

You took a sip of the coffee, internally debating with yourself. You could see the sense in your offer but you weren't a big fan of guns. Hell, just being around them was nerve wrecking enough. Maybe -

You looked down at your mug in surprise.

"This is some really good stuff."

The coffee was strong, bitter in the best sort of way. You could catch a hint of chocolate in it too. Just sweet enough to make your toes curl.

" 'Course. Only the best for my guest. Help yourself to another cup. I'll just put your stuff on charge and be right back."

You finished your drink in a few sips and happily poured a second serving. Hot coffee... man, you didn't think three days without it would be so tough. Usually, you were pretty sensitive to caffeine. But by the time your neighbour came back, your head was tilted back and you were half asleep.

You tried to shake yourself out of it but he just laughed and pushed you back down.

"You probably haven't had a good sleep since the power went out. Just rest. We can talk once you wake up."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." His hand was still on your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into your neck. "It's just fine with me."

You drifted off after that. Into a deep sleep without any dreams. Waking up was like slogging through molasses.

"Finally up sleepy head?"

It was dark outside and your neighbour was on one knee in front of the fire place, coaxing fresh wood to catch.

You sat up slowly. Your muscles ached and there was a strange, salty taste on your tongue.

"My heads killing me..."

He stood, poker still in his hand. "You must be starving then. I've already got some food on the stove. You'll feel better after you eat."

You didn't feel hungry at all. If anything, you felt almost hangover.

"Thanks," you managed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

He waved you away. "I don't mind a bit."

He came back with a bowl of steaming hot chow and stood with his arms crossed on the back of your couch while you ate.

"It's real late. I reckon you should stay over. I don't want you driving on dirt when it's so dark."

"Oh, it's fine. I've already put you out so much."

"Don't be silly. I insist."

You shivered without meaning to. That almost growl, low and bordering on menacing. It was so familiar, so...

"Just like that. Look at you, half asleep and still desperate for my cock."

"You like the taste? Yeah, I bet you fucking do."

"Ain't just gonna use your mouth next time."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Where the hell was this coming from? Were you remembering some sick dream from this afternoon?

"You okay there neighbour?"

You nodded. "Just my head."

Maybe he was right. Driving when you were so disorientated was just asking for trouble.

"If you really don't mind... I'll be happy to sleep over."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling thing. "I'll make the guest room up special, just for you."

"Could I use your shower too?"

"I offered didn't I? Come on, I'll show you where it is."

He took you to the master bedroom and jerked his thumb at the en-suite.

"Hot water is the most reliable in there. Door doesn't close that well though, so don't mind it. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

You brushed your teeth carefully. You lips felt sore, bruised in a way you couldn't explain.

You waited until you heard his footsteps going down the stairs before you stripped off your clothes. You stood under the hot water for a good few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling. The bathroom was thick with steam when you finally got to scrubbing yourself. The door was open just a crack and the bedroom beyond was dark. You forgot all about it until you heard the creak of the hinges.

You whirled to face the door, your hands coming up to cover yourself. The steam was too thick to see through. You called his name.

Nothing.

You stepped out with suds still on your thighs and pushed the door open. The room beyond was empty.

You sighed. God, you were being paranoid. Your neighbour was a great guy. It was unfair of you to treat him like a peeping tom when he'd gone out of his way to make you comfortable. It must have been just an errant draught.

You stepped back into the shower and rinsed yourself off. But no matter what you told yourself, you still kept an eye on the door.

When you went to change into your fresh clothes, you spent at least five minutes hunting for your underwear. Did you drop it somewhere? Oh, please say your undies weren't just sitting in the middle of his hallway. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Eventually you gave up and just decided to go without them. Not comfortable at all but still better than walking around in a towel to look for them. And much better than calling your neighbour in to help. Wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey neighbour that I don't know that well, you haven't seen my intimates lying around, have you?' Yeah, you'd never again get invited over after something like that.

When you were dressed, you found him already on his way up the hall. He was carrying a glass of water and some pills.

"Thought you might still have a headache, so I brought you some painkillers."

You paused, nervous but not sure why.

"Thanks." His hands dwarfed yours when he handed them over. You didn't recognise the name of on the pills, but they looked harmless. You tossed them back and gagged at the bitter aftertaste.

"They pack a punch, so tell me when you start to get drowsy."

"Aye aye captain."

You followed him to the guest room. It was at the very back on the second story, quieter than the rest of the house. A huge glass wall gave you a view of the forest disappearing into the darkness. You could see the ghost of your reflection in the glass, your neighbour a hulking, shapeless mass at your shoulder.

He took a seat in an armchair across form the bed and stretched out his legs. You perched on the edge of the mattress, still feeling a bit like an intruder.

"How long have you been staying out here?” you asked.

He smiled at you, teeth glinting almost wolf-like. "Got you curious?"

"A little. Folk in town say they hardly see you. I don't know... I'm just wondering if you ever get lonely."

He was quiet and you cursed yourself for being so nosy. You hurried to fill the silence.

"It's just that I get a bit lonely out here too. 'Specially when it's so quiet. And I guess I was wondering if it's the same for you."

He smiled at you, rueful. "At times. Used to be worse, but I've got a new interest to keep me occupied nowadays."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Bird watching."

"Really? What do you look for?"

The way the room was lit up, you couldn't see his eyes. They fell into shadow and you only had his lips to read his emotions by. He smirked, slow and almost mocking.

"Just one bird I look out for. Flighty little thing. Tends to get caught by predators a lot. You’d probably recognise it."

The polite thing to do would be to ask what it was called. You didn't. Some part of whispered that you wouldn't like the answer.

You must have been quiet a little too long because he took it as his cue to leave. He stood, a mountain of muscle, his eyes not quite as nice as they seemed that afternoon. A trick of the light, surely. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

"You rest up. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"G'night."

He was gone before you thought to ask what he meant. And you were passed out on your pillows before you realised it. He was right. The pills sure did pack one hell of a punch.

You were aware of a shadow at the end of your bed. You weren't fully awake, and your limbs were slow and heavy with more than just sleep.

"Who..."

The shadow reached down and one warm paw circled your ankle.

"Just me little bird."

You knew that voice. It was the voice that brought you warm food and invited you in from the cold. You could trust it. Could go back to sleep and not worry about anything.

'No,' some part of you hissed, 'He's not as safe as you think.'

"Cold..."

The shadow laughed and it was the laugh of the fox finding the rabbit's den. Nasty. Hungry.

"Cold huh? Don't worry baby. I'll warm you right up."

He yanked your ankle towards him and your whole body slid down the bed. You were too drowsy to stop it.

"Knew you were gonna be mine the second I saw you," he cooed, hands running up your thighs.

His fingers slipped under your waistband, nails scraping your hip bones.

"Dumb little thing from the city. Doesn't even realise I've tripped all their breakers. That's why you don't have power baby. It's all me."

His fingers were as big as the rest of him. Thick, meaty. Skin rough from working outdoors. You whined when his fingertips scraped the edges of your hole.

"No underwear. You needy slut. That's practically a written and signed invitation to fuck you."

He pulled your pants down to your ankles and pushed your knees up to your stomach. And you were too out of it to stop him. Limp and pliable as a fuck doll.

Your tight ass was exposed to the cold air, entirely at the mercy of whatever he wanted to do.

"Cute." He circled his thumb around the rim, almost pushing in but not quite. "Wanted to be in this ass since you first showed up at my door all those months ago. Lookin' up at me all sweet. Fuck, it's enough to drive a man to desperation."

He lowered his head and you could feel his warm breath washing over your thighs.

He dragged his tongue across your hole. Some part of you must have been more awake than the rest, because your whole body jerked away from him.

"None of that," he cooed, hands digging into your thighs and dragging you back. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He licked you again, deeper this time. The flexed tip of his tongue pushing at your entrance, and to your dull horror, actually slipping in. He moaned and you could feel the vibrations all through your crotch.

He pulled out and spat, rubbed it in with his fingers. One of them pushed in until the second joint, curling into your walls so rough that you gasped.

"Please..."

"Please what?" he mocked. "Please fuck my tight little ass? Please cum inside me? Use your words little bird."

"Please...stop..."

That made him laugh again, made him shove his finger in all the way to the knuckle. Twisting so cruelly as he pulled out and jerked back in.

"Stop? Stop? After all the work it took to get you here? No way baby. I'm not slowing down and I'm sure as fuck not stopping."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he nudged his leaking head against your hole.

"You’re not going to remember this. And I'm not going to leave any evidence."

He pushed your legs tighter against your chest.

"So as much as I want to fuck you rotten, you're gonna have to be happy with just the tip."

He'd done a good job loosening and lubing you, but it still burned like a hot poker when he forced his way in. He groaned, almost in pain.

"You're fucking choking me. God, do you want my cum so bad?"

You could feel when the tip was in. That tiny difference in thickness between his head and shaft was oh so noticeable when your ass was clenching and fluttering around it. It was the smallest mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

He was panting from the effort of getting it in, the effort of holding back. The size difference between you almost perverse. Like a draft stallion trying to mount a pony. In every way, he was just too fucking big.

He spat in his hand and brought it to his cock, ran his palm up and down his shaft with sickly wet strokes. The combination of his palm and your squeezing ass was fucking delicious.

He had great stamina but fuck if it didn't feel like you were milking him.

He let go long enough to smack your ass. It almost finished him. You clenched around him so hard it felt like his tip was getting fucking crushed.

"Shiiiit, you're the best hole I've ever had. Can't wait 'til I can go all the way."

You whined, pitiful as snared prey. There were words there, though they were too slurred to make out. Something about Daddy and please and stop. He ignored you.

He pushed in a little deeper and watched your face scrunching up. So helpless, so fucking caught. That was what did it. The knowledge that he could do this to you at any point and you'd be helpless to stop it.

He came inside you, snarling through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to bruise. You'd notice the marks in the morning and chalk it up to just being clumsy. But he'd know. He'd see the bruises peeking out from the hem of your shorts and his cock would twitch just a little at the memory of leaving them.

His cock pulsed. Shot strings of spunk deep inside you. You could feel it. Hot, too hot. Gross. Make it stop. Get it out.

He pulled out with a wet pop. His cum drooled down and he took a minute to work it back into you with his finger. Your hole was gaping just a little and it made his balls pulse. If he had the time...

"A real fucking mess. And on my good sheets too. You're a terrible guest."

He mopped up whatever cum remained with a balled up piece of martial that he pulled from his pocket. Even in you stupor, you recognised it as your missing underwear.

"Terrible guest, but the perks of having you around are pretty fucking sweet."

He dropped your knees back to the mattress, pulled your pants back into place and roughly yanked the duvet over you. He grabbed your jaw and smiled at the lost, drowsy look in your half open eyes.

"Got a big day tomorrow. Gonna wake up and find your whole house was flooded. Ruined. Gonna have nowhere to stay but with me."

He sounded smug. It made your guts twist.

Outside, the night grew quiet. A predator was hunting and most prey knew better than to catch its attention.

"I made sure of it. All your family and friends in the city are away from home. There's no one around to help you out..."

He tightened his grip just enough to watch the fear start dancing in your eyes.

"No one...except me."

He let you go and smiled that same warm, comforting smile from that afternoon.

"Dumb little thing. Got no clue how your water mains work, do you? Got no idea how easy they are to sabotage."

He tutted. "Got me so damn busy. I'm gonna have to run to your place, fuck shit up and be back here before you wake up for real."

He traced his index finger over your lips and left behind a sticky coating of spunk. You'd wake up tasting salt again, with no memory of why.

"But it's fine. I forgive you. After today we'll have plenty of time together. Rest of our lives in fact. So just sleep tight and forget what you think you've dreamed."

There are perks to living in the middle nowhere. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

There are perks, but unfortunately for you, your neighbour isn't one of them.

[randomshyperson]

One Of Your Girls - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

summary: A study session turns into a make out session. Or the one where the most beautiful girl on campus is your situationship and you would never refuse to distract her, even during exam weeks.

words: 3.820k | warnings: (+18), college au, fuck buddies, popular!wanda x loser!reader, mostly smut but there’s actually some plot here, bottom!wanda (we need way more of this sorry), oral, fingering, some dirty talk, reader is briefly described to be shy and introverted because of the loser archetype, w and r are actually super comfortable with each other don’t be fooled, text messages are in bold cause i never tried that before.

A/N-> I have written more than 100 works for wanda, but I don’t remember ever writing casual sex before. To be a demisexual is really something, huh? Anyways, this was actually based on “One of Your Girls” from Troye Sivan, but around the middle I just started doing my own thing honestly. Good reading!

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Song-Based Collection

-&-

To inspire students to have sharper minds, as she likes to say, Miss Harkness is known for having the hardest tests on the entire campus. This means that you needed to study seriously for next week's exam, without quick readings or breaks to watch the television or talk about anything other than Applied Sociology with your friends.

And definitely, no 'study' sessions with Wanda Maximoff.

You shouldn't even think about Wanda, and her emerald eyes and bold hands. You need to think about Émile Durkheim or Max Weber, and any other sociologist from past centuries, with their difficult theories from which long and complicated questions will be in your exam.

But Wanda and the casual thing you two have is like clockwork. You had barely made up your mind about keeping your distance, and prepared a proper study session in your dorm - empty that afternoon due to a divine miracle that occupied Natasha and her girlfriend Maria all day - for your cell phone to vibrate with the notification from the person you had decided to ignore.

Stealing a glance at the contact name, you grunted quietly and turned your attention back to the book that had just finished reading the first page.

Focus.

Another vibration makes you roll your eyes.

Wanda didn't do anything wrong, maybe you could just say you’re busy.

"I am bored."

Her text makes you laugh through your nose. Typing quickly, you don't expect a return to your "And I’m busy. Talk to u later."

Your cell phone vibrates again, but you stand firm. Sociology will not study itself. There's a shift of pages, and you taste some of the mint tea from the mug on the table before your cell phone rings again.

Maybe it's someone else. It may be important.

You can’t even fool yourself.

The book is placed on your lap, and you unlock the screen for a photo that brings a warm color to your ears and spreads around your body as quickly as this whole thing began.

"What if I was in public?." You type with a certain harshness, which doesn't match the way your heart missed a beat. Or how you've completely forgotten about the book now, and all you can do is bite back a sigh at the image of the prettiest nipples in this galaxy.

Wanda responds in the same second, and you want to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of her feeling eager for a response from you.

"Kinky."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "You're the worst" That's what you type. You end up sighing when looking at the pile of books around. Wanda only needed one stupid photo to completely take your focus away.

She types before you can tell her off for it. "Are you in your dorm? Wanna see you."

You bite your lip. She is so infuriating.

"I have to study."

You can almost hear her giggling on the other end. "Don't you always?"

You think about cursing at her teasing, but you don't want to cross any lines. It's true that this relationship is a constant push and pull, but Wanda isn't clingy for no reason. You're about to ask if something happened when she adds "Are you really gonna force me to send another photo..."

You swallow hard. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. I was innocently studying until now.”

It takes her a moment, but finally, there's another photo. With your fingers shaking, you forget to breathe at the image of her thighs, a red garter belt in contrast to the pale skin, barely covered by her mini-skirt. It was such a simple image yet so provocative, Wanda truly had talent.

"Fuck me." You sigh quietly, unable to type anything back for a moment.

And so she does it first. "Did I melt your brain?"

“Please come here.” You begged, only imagining her smirk on the other line.

Wanda typed back a second later; “I thought you were studying. I wouldn't want to distract you.”

You huckle incredulously at her cynicism, and almost type back a curse but end up deciding to get up instead, hurrying to make the room less messy for your guest.

Wanda takes a while to show up at your room - Unlike you, she lives on the other side of campus, in an apartment shared with her brother. The outfit she's wearing is definitely more impressive in person, and you have to control yourself not to feel jealous at the realization that a good part of the university has just seen her parading around looking so stunning. This was definitely Yelena's doing, the one responsible for trying out everything she learned in her course on her friends and successfully dressing the whole group like supermodels.

Sometimes you wish you were more sociable, at least to be friends with Yelena and get new clothes.

Not that you have any idea of ​​this, but Wanda did a great job of hiding the way her stomach did two flips when she saw how comfy you looked, the dark green sweatshirt covering your shorts making her immediately think about exploring underneath.

"What's up, loser?"

Wanda had this problem. High defense barriers, almost all the time, but especially when she was feeling things that were out of her control. Like the way her heart raced in your presence, or how she was starting to run out of decent excuses to meet you without admitting the only reason was simply because she wanted to spend some time together.

When you first talked, freshman year, she was the most intimidating person on campus (she still is), but with a little insistence (or friends playing cupid) you had managed to see sides of her that no one else had seen. And vice versa.

It was a pretty interesting dynamic, the most popular girl on campus and a big nerd with social anxiety were somehow dating. Wanda dragged you to parties whenever possible, a possessive hand on yours and a threatening look at any idiot who thought of giving you a hard time. And often you end up in some drunken Instagram live or records of friends making out in the background.

When you weren’t doing the things she liked, Wanda would just show up. After your classes, in the study hall, during your break from your internship, and in your dorm. She didn’t mind showing you off, but there was something so soft about spending time alone. When her defenses were down, the mean girl mask would fall and she would laugh at your stupid jokes, or dress up in your clothes to make pancakes in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t an official relationship, but it was something really closer to one. Something that gave her free rein to come and go as she pleased from your life, and mess everything around as she went.

You made room for her to enter, and she gave a long kiss to your cheek before leaving her shoes at the entrance. You were blushing when you closed the door.

The dorm you shared with Natasha had little more than the space needed for two beds and two desks, but somehow you and her managed to squeeze in enough decorations on the walls and even some of her ballet and fighting awards. Your side was covered in band and movie posters and science holiday medals. A barely used keyboard sat dusty in the corner, and you had made a mental note to show Wanda how to play Over the Rainbow sometime. She tossed her backpack on the corner of your desk, and you hurried to try to clear up some of the clutter on the wood, blushing even more when she chuckled. 

“Come here.” She asked softly, and you swallowed hard as you stumbled closer to her again, guided by her hands holding your wrists. Wanda actually wanted your arms around her, and that’s where she put them. So her hands went up to your shoulders. “You always get so shy when we’re alone.” 

“I am shy.” 

She shakes her head slightly.  “That’s not true,” she says, leaning in close to brush her lips against yours. You gasp slightly, and Wanda pulls away, teasing. "You're an introvert, but no one shy says the things you say when you're turned on, darling"

Yochuckle, shaking your head with pink cheeks. "Shut up." 

She bites back a smile, and leans in, but the kiss is too short, it's so unfair. You try to chase her mouth, but Wanda pulls away to hug you. And that surprises you as much as her breathing deeply into your neck. 

You don't remember hugging her before. Not really. There's plenty of sex of course, and making out and pillow talk and late-night snacks. But Wanda isn't the type to cuddle, or hug. It gives what you two have an intimacy that you understand she doesn't want to have, or didn’t, past tense. 

Your hand caresses your back, and you're not quite sure if you should say anything but finally you do; "Is everything okay?"

It's like throwing a bucket of cold, reality-filled water over her. She breaks the hug, forcing a laugh that doesn't convince you at all.

"Of course!" She says, pulling you close at once and giving you a kiss that's much more determined than before. That almost makes you forget where you were, almost. "Let's take these off." She pulls the folds of your sweater up, but even though you let her, you risk:

"Wanda, are you sure-"

She cuts you off again, this time kissing you with tongue. It's definitely hotter, and it elicits a breathless moan from you. Her hand holds your face, controlling the kiss until you whimper against her mouth. Wanda lets you breathe as she pushes you by the shoulders to the bed, and you fall sitting, facing her.

"I said take your clothes off." She repeats, but it's her who puts on a little show. She pulls off her blouse at once, and the exposure of her breasts covered only by a red lace bra leaves you mesmerized. Wanda giggles at your reaction. “Every damn time.” She teases, her hands moving to undo it. But you move suddenly, grabbing her hips and pulling her onto your lap in urgency. Wanda gasps in surprise at the heated kiss, losing herself in the task of removing her bra as you start to suck on her tongue. With one hand on your shoulder for support, the other ruffles your hair before she feels her bra loosen on her body, not having even noticed your hands working on the clasp until now. She bites her bottom lip as she feels the item being pulled away from her body. 

“You’re getting better at this.” She teases again. You look at her with lust-bright eyes but also with a frown.

“Better? When have I ever been bad at this? Certainly not with you, because you came three times on your first time together.” 

Wanda raises an eyebrow at you, her hips grinding slowly against your lap. “Like I said, not shy at all.” You roll your eyes, gripping her hips a little more firmly to guide her movements. It's Wanda who chases your mouth again, returning with equal fervor every kiss you give her.

Your hands let go of her hips to slide down her thighs, until finally touching the garter belt. You break the kiss with an affected groan, and Wanda takes the opportunity to catch her breath a little. If the image of her swollen lips and dilated pupils wasn't enough to drive you crazy, looking down did. Her skirt was wrinkled up, and the red garter belt was truly a sight. A damp spot was now visible on your pants from all her grinding, and you would have time to feel proud of making her so aroused with just kisses later.

As you pulled the garters and made them slap gently against Wanda's skin, you smiled when she shivered, a breathy moan escaping her mouth. It was such a beautiful thing, turning all her bad girl attitude into a pathetic mess of whimpering.

But suddenly you remembered that she had walked across half the campus wearing this, so your clenched jaw had another reason.

"Did you get dressed up for me?"

Wanda gave a short laugh, not really understanding what you were saying. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You glared at her, your hands giving another warning tug, and Wanda wanted to hate the way her body twitched, but she couldn't help it.

"If not me, who?"

She blinked in confusion, deep in her own lust. 

Why were you still talking when she was literally dripping on your lap?

"What are you-" She fell silent when you grabbed her throat, your grip making her thrust her hips in desperation for friction, her mouth opening in a needy moan. Her own reaction surprised her, and Wanda would have tried to work things out if you hadn't taken away her ability to respond when you kissed her again, dirty and hard until she started whimpering on your tongue again. When you pulled apart again, your fingers invaded her mouth and Wanda's eyes widened, realizing that this might be the first time she'd come without even being properly touched.

You seemed to have noticed the same thing, a chuckle escaping you as she began sucking on your fingers with the same fervor she was trying to grind into your lap.

"Tsk, look at you, Wanda." You began, your hand moving from her throat down to her garter belt, to pull it off again. "You really want me to believe anyone else can turn you into this needy mess?" Flushed with arousal, Wanda still manages to frown in confusion. Anyone else. What the hell are you talking about? There’s no one else.

But suddenly, you remove your fingers from her mouth, and when she tries to ask, it's too late. Your soaked fingers have moved down and they fill her without warning, sinking inside her and eliciting a throaty moan that makes her head fall forward, forehead to yours, and nails digging into your shoulders. You laugh hoarsely. "Fuck, you're so wet, Wands."

The dirty sound of your fingers moving inside her echoes in the room along with her breathless moans, but you don't prolong things for too long. There’s an urgency and roughness to your movements that makes Wanda roll her eyes back and bounce on your fingers in animalistic desperation.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—” It’s always such a beautiful sight. She arches on top of you, spasming as her climax hits her and spreads hot waves of pleasure. Your hand is soaked, but you pull your fingers away to lick them one by one as Wanda tries to get back into orbit.

When she finally does, it's rewarding. It's your turn to have your throat grabbed, and Wanda presses forward until you're lying on the bed, at her mercy, even as a smile plays on your lips.

It's time for her to shake that smugness off your face.

"You're overdressed." It comes in a warning tone, and her hands go down to remove your clothes, one by one. You help her, between one kiss and another, a touch and a squeeze, until finally, Wanda ends up on your lap again, this time, with no fabric between you other than the beautiful lingerie she picked out for you.

Oh, of course she lets you know.

"I don't want you to get any more cocky than you already are." She began between the countless breathless kisses you were exchanging, minutes on end in this hot make-out session. "But all I could think about when I bought it was how you were going to look at me." She takes advantage of your gasp in surprise to bite your lip and pull, making you tremble. With a smug little smile, Wanda looks at you with darkened eyes. "And how were you going to take it off."

Your hands move of their own accord - There's a hard tug to pull her against you, and you end up rolling around on the bed, until Wanda ends up underneath, writhing at your touch. Your fingers slipped under the belt again, but now you take your time to remove the item, slowly until Wanda couldn't hold her breath any longer.

Stealing a glance at her dripping pussy that she displayed so proudly on her parted legs, you clicked your tongue again before finding your space in her middle, your hands fitting behind her thighs.

"You spoil me, you know?" You whisper, feeling her fit her ankles into your back, an impatient whimper escaping her. You were so close to where she wanted, needed, but still not giving her what she was begging for. "I don't know what I did to deserve such a sweet gift."

Wanda tries to play along, she really does. But you give her a tentative lick, and another, and all that escapes her are shaky moans, as one hand grips your hair, the other seeks support in the sheets. Something she can pull at will without hurting.

She feels hot in all the right places, and she wants to police herself for how addicted she is becoming to the feeling of having you like this, but it's impossible to think about that right now. With you eating her so well and making her forget all her problems.

You hum suddenly, satisfied at the taste, and at the vibration, Wanda loses it. There's a loud whimper escaping her throat as she arches against you, begging for more, but you hold her in place, your own hips grinding against the bed as Wanda starts to sound desperate for your tongue to go deeper.

When you risk teasing her again, shallow tongue strokes that leave her dizzy and shaking, Wanda loses her patience. She curses under her breath, and grabs your hair with determination, managing a satisfied grunt from you before she forces your face against her pussy. Not caring if she’s hurting you or suffocating you, Wanda chases her high with near desperation. She grinds her hips against your face, and locks her legs behind your back, using you until she comes.

She sounds so hot when it finally happens. Your name drips from her tongue as she drips into your mouth. It’s so strong that her body instantly goes weak, her legs shaking around you. You chuckle against her thigh, taking great satisfaction in leaving her like this.

Still catching her breath, she calls out. “Come here, asshole.”

You think she wanted a kiss, maybe another orgasm. But Wanda just adjusts you to her side, so she can rest against you. This is new too, spooning. It's the kind of thing casual encounters shouldn't do.

Of course she notices how tense you've become, and it only takes the moment for her to stop shaking for Wanda to look up, her chin resting on your chest.

"You don't have to overthink everything."

A nervous laugh escapes you. "I wasn’t."

Wanda makes a small grimace of unconvincedness. "I know you were. It's what you do. It's one of the things that makes you, you." She says, and it takes you a little by surprise. She sighs then, and looks away, resting her face against your chest again. You almost think she's not going to say anything else when she continues. "It's good that you think of all the possibilities. That way I'll never be able to disappoint you, you'll always see it coming."

You frown, absorbing her words in silence for a moment. Wanda begins to draw patterns on your stomach that look like her initials, until you sigh.

"I know we haven't named it what’s between us, but whatever it is, you can always tell me what's bothering you." You let her know quietly, your fingers playing through the strands of her hair. "And we can just talk, you know? It doesn't always have to end in sex. You don't have to get a new lingerie as an excuse to see me. No matter how hot you look on it."

She pinches you for the joke, but she’s smiling when she looks back at you.

“You’re not good at the whole casual sex thing, are you?” She teases, but she’s genuinely so happy with your previous words that she just can’t hide it.

You smile, watching her hover closer and closer. “You think? Because I think I’m doing pretty well at this, miss-Oh, baby, I’m gonna come,”

You do an imitation that makes Wanda's eyes widen and she blushes deeply while she huffs in embarrassment. You burst out laughing when she tries to cover your mouth and stop the teasing, and it ends up turning into a small fight of hands and tickles until Wanda ends up underneath again, now with her hands pinned on either side of her head.

There is an exchange of glances between the two of you, and you are smiling just like her.

You know that today, Wanda will not tell you what bothered her, what brought her here. She is right, however, you’re an overthinker and already have a hundred possibilities for what could have brought her there, and considering that you know from her friends how much she has been fighting with her father in the last few weeks, it is not hard to assume it is related to that.

But Wanda returns the intensity of your gaze, and you know that something between you has changed. She will tell you when she is ready.

Your grip on one of her hands loosens, and Wanda uses the opportunity to touch your cheek.

"What are you thinking about?"

You sigh, and she can tell. Her heart misses a beat, and she considers if she’s ready for a confession. If it would scare her or make her so happy, she would freeze. Maybe both. 

But you grimace a little, and smirk, and Wanda feels silly for even considering.

"I'm definitely going to fail Miss Harkness's class this semester."

Wanda frowns and then bursts out laughing, confused and incredulous.

"What?" She asks between laughs. “Why would you be thinking about this now? With a naked girl in your bed, you nerd!”

You giggle at her words, your free hand fitting on her waist as you wait for her to stop chuckling. "I don't know why you're laughing, this is your fault. You ruined all my study sessions with your... distracting presence."

She rolls her eyes in a playful manner. “"Well, I could always just leave-"

You grip her waist tighter, holding her in place. "Nah, who cares about classes anyway? Come here."

Wanda will definitely help you study, she makes a mental promise. But she will kiss you first just a little longer.

[muqingslover]

here I am thinking about goofy/strange habits each lads LI have when the two of you share a bed.

Xavier

First and foremost he is getting in bed with you no matter what.

If you're on the couch then he WILL find a way to fit and snuggle with you it's like cats are liquid theory.

Xavier likes to slip his hands under your clothes to feel your warmth directly.

He'd lay his hand flat against your tummy and let his thumb gently brush the soft skin while he relaxed.

The real problem is that, in more than one occasion, you wake up with his hands on your boobs.

Be it small, medium sized or big, he doesn't care. He is not doing anything just holding them for some reason while fast asleep.

Sylus

He likes to sniff you like a dog.

Sylus will pull you close against his chest after getting in bed and then he just sniff sniff

You told him multiple times to stop that but he can't help himself. I mean, what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

He finds comfort in your scent. It's specific to you and he absolutely loves it.

Even more so after you use his bath products so you start smelling like him and that makes him feel all fuzzy.

He will nibble on you like you're his personal chew toy. Don't freak out when you find red spots and teeth marks all over your skin the next day.

At times you may also find yourself being crushed to death by his very large and very heavy body. Don't worry though, just tap him a few times and he'll roll off of you.

In conclusion, Sylus is a very big dog with wings.

Caleb

This guy has a HANDFUL of bad habits like I could make a post just for him.

One of them is that he watches you sleep. And I mean watch.

The entire time he's so focused on your slumbering form that you'd think he was watching the most entertaining TV show in the world.

You have mini heart attacks whenever you wake up in the middle of the night and see him just....looming over you like a sleep paralysis demon.

You definitely socked him in the face by reflex once or twice. He's fine, he dodged it anyway.

It's not nearly as bad as to when the neighbors came to check in after you screamed bloody murder.

Additionally, Caleb takes pictures of you and has you losing hairs because he refuses to delete them

"Oh c'mon! You look sooo cute!"

Do yourself a favor and dose his drink so he'll leave you alone for the night./hj

Rafayel

This guy is the worst roommate ever.

Just kidding I love him.

He is very annoying though because his bad habit is to wake you up.

If he can't sleep then he's making it everybody's problem, including you.

He will hold your nose or be purposely loud so you wake up and then give him you the most fake nonchalant "Oh, did I disturb your afternoon nap?" "...It's 2 in the morning." "Well, since we're both awake now anyway—"

Literally not a single peaceful night of sleep unless he's asleep as well. It's like having a toddler.

My suggestion? Lock him in the bathroom while he's in the bathtub and enjoy your beauty sleep. You have at least four hours before he notices.

Zayne

He has no bad habits.

He will let you sleep as he should and just makes sure you're tucked in and comfortable. Top tier gentleman.

If I was to pick one is the fact he sleeps like a statue and scares the life out of you because of how stiff he is.

He sleeps on his back like a mummy and doesn't move at all throughout the night.

It's similar to when cats fall deep asleep and you can't wake them up so you think they're dead.

Just make sure he's breathing and bring him in to cuddle and everything's gonna be fine.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 I WISH I WAS YOUR GIRL

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you don't know why dazai has suddenly become so standoffish with you the last week—there's something that everyone isn't telling you, but you can't even bring yourself to make that your biggest concern. you're just so at your limits with the back and forth with him that you can't concentrate on anything else. mishima is hosting a ball is this evening and you think that this is it: if things are going to happen between the two of you, it'll be tonight or it'll be never. you can't wait forever on someone who's just going to string you along the rest of his life. you won't.

(wordcount: 6.3k; fem!reader, sfw but a bit of tension, angsty)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: hihihihiiiiiii guys ^.^ happy friday. we've gotta angsty fic for tonight. i fear this one does not end happily but TRUST the universe does <33 but angst is necessary to move the plot forward. the price you pay for a happy ending is an angsty path there. specially dedicated to my beloved sophie who hates angst <33 happy birthday luvr

You are severely unhappy.

You finished getting dressed almost an hour ago, but you still haven’t left your room. You’re sitting at your vanity staring at yourself—you’ve changed your jewelry three times already, and you’re about to change it a fourth. It’s not that you’re not satisfied with how you look, it’s more that you’re just frustrated and fidgety.

More than that, you’re upset. Dazai hasn’t spoken to you in a week, and you don’t even know why. It has something to do with the incident that happened a week ago with the child called Kyusaku, but you’re not sure what because you don’t know what was real and what was concocted by the child’s ability after you were affected by it. 

As much as Dazai likes to pretend to be aloof and unbothered, he’s easily worked up by small things, and he’s been upset with you before, but never like this. He’ll usually sulk where he knows you’ll see him and wait for you to ask him what’s wrong so he can use the opportunity to guilt you into watching a shitty movie or going out to buy him snacks. 

But this? Radio silence. He came up to your apartment once when you weren’t here to do his laundry and was gone before you got back. You don’t even know where he’s been staying, because you went looking for him at the shipping container and he wasn’t there. You don’t know what happened. You guys were good, more than good—you really thought that maybe the two of you were making progress past this awkward more than friends, not lovers stage, but now it’s back to square one. Worse than square one, because at least at square one, he was still talking to you.

A low whistle comes from the entrance to your room and you raise your eyebrows as you look up in the mirror, catching sight of Chuuya leaning against the doorframe, head tilted to the side as he observes you. He’s already dressed up—out of his normal outfit and in a sleek black suit instead, he looks different without his hat, but you don’t even have it in you to make a teasing comment about it. You can’t help the disappointment that clogs your throat at the sight of him: you’d still been holding out hope that Dazai would show up. 

“I forgot how nice you cleaned up,” Chuuya murmurs. “It’s been a minute since we attended an event together.”

You turn in your seat to face him, eyes roving over his form once before you say, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your hat. I almost thought you might be balding beneath it.”

Chuuya instantly rolls his eyes as he pushes himself off the door frame to make his way over to you. You give him a simpering smile as you look up at him, but you can tell it doesn’t reach your eyes from the way he frowns at you. He reaches out to straighten the necklace you’re wearing and then holds a gloved hand out to help you up, ever the gentlemen.

Even though it’s unnecessary, you still take it and sigh as you rise to your feet, smoothing out your dress once you’re upright. You look up at him and ask, “I take it you’re the one escorting me tonight.”

“Don’t sound too pleased,” Chuuya replies dryly, holding out his arm for you. You sigh as you hold his bicep loosely, making your way to the elevator. “He still hasn’t talked to you?”

“Not once,” you answer bitterly. “I thought for sure he would get over whatever his problem is to be my escort tonight, but I guess not. I don’t even know what happened, Chuuya. I feel like people just aren’t telling me something.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, your gaze is cutting to the side to observe Chuuya’s reaction. He grimaces instantly and averts his gaze, and you take in a deep breath, realizing you hit it right on the nail. What the hell are they hiding from you? You know now isn’t the time to get into it, but you make a note in the back of your head to do some snooping as to what really happened during the incident last week. 

“Interesting,” you say, just to let Chuuya know that he needs to work on his poker face. He catches the implication and sends you a scowl, but you only raise your eyebrows at him with a small smile, waiting for the elevator to come up to your apartment. “He’s not coming tonight at all then?”

“No, he’s coming,” Chuuya corrects absently and the smile on your face freezes.

“Is that so?” you ask tightly. “Who is he attending with then?”

Chuuya gives you a long, knowing look as the elevator gets to your floor, holding it open and waiting for you to step in before joining you. You’re tense as you wait for his answer, and you know he’s getting back for the balding comment with how long he’s taking to give you it.

“No one,” he finally says, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Chuuya barks out a laugh. “Jesus, you’re so embarrassing—get yourself together. Who the fuck would actually be his date? No one wants to get within ten feet of him.”

You give Chuuya a withering look and then reply primly, “I would.”

“The entire Mafia knows that,” Chuuya says dryly, making your face hot. “You make me sick.”

“Likewise,” you scoff and pointedly look away from him. After a few seconds pass, you ask, “Are you sure he’s not bringing anyone?” 

Chuuya groans. “What would it even change if he does?” he asks, which does not settle your nerves at all. “You’re just going to work yourself up thinking about it.”

“It changes whether or not I’m going to have Akutagawa Ryuunosuke on standby to eliminate a potential threat to Dazai’s life,” you say with a sweet smile. “Assassins come in many forms, but most frequently in dates at big events. We shouldn’t take that risk with our most valuable executive, naturally.”

Chuuya’s jaw drops as he fully turns to look at you. “Sometimes, I wonder why you like that fucked up bastard so much, and it’s only very rarely that I’m reminded that you’re just as evil as he is.”

“I’m kidding,” you complain, waving him off. Although, now that the thought is in your head, it’s becoming increasingly more appealing. “I think.”

The elevator doors slide back open and Chuuya holds his arm out for you again. You take it, lifting your hand to wave at Hinata, an older man who's been working with the Port Mafia since longer than you’ve been alive. He ran with Hirotsu in the Black Lizards before he was hurt on a mission and put on desk duty—you stole him from Mori when you came back from Kyoto. On paper, he’s just your doorman, but he’s helped you a lot with mission planning the past year and a half; you honestly contribute half of your success to his experience.

“Good luck tonight, hime, Nakahara-san,” Hinata says as the two of you make your way out of the building.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and toss your head to the side to look back at him with a smile. “Hinata-san, you should come and be my date instead of this bum.”

“Why am I always catching strays from you?” Chuuya scowls, but you ignore him as you flutter your eyelashes at Hinata, who only laughs at you.

“I’m far too old for that to work on me, hime,” Hinata replies. “I’ll have the scout reports from Sapporo ready by the time you get back tonight.”

“My hero,” you sing. “Thank you.”

You wave at him one last time before leaving the building with Chuuya. As soon as you’re out of sight, your smile drops and Chuuya gives you a concerned look, stopping before the two of you can get in the car so he can turn to look at you head on.

“Do you think he’ll show up with someone to spite me?” you ask quietly. 

You know Dazai—he doesn’t like feeling wounded, so when he does, he lashes out tenfold. He gets cruel and vicious, and because he’s Dazai, he knows exactly what to do to make people hurt more than he does. You don’t know what you did to upset him, but it has you on edge now because it will hurt if he shows up with someone else, knowing that you were waiting for him back at your apartment.

Chuuya says your name quietly, and because it’s not an immediate ‘no’, you know that he knows that Dazai might very well stoop that low to hurt you. You swallow thickly and look away—it’s fine. You’ll act unbothered, you have an appearance to keep up and that’s more important than anything. And anyway, it’ll hurt him even more when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants from you.

“Hey, look,” Chuuya says, forcing your attention back on him. “Dazai’s being a fucking dick, alright? But what else is new? You look beautiful—make him regret that you’re not coming in on his arm, yeah?” 

You smile softly and look away before saying, “It’s unnerving when you’re sweet.”

You don’t have to look at Chuuya to know he’s rolling his eyes at you. You hear him open the car door for you and sigh as you look back over to him.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s go.”

———

As always, your entrance is something to marvel over. It never fails to be the highlight of the night, and it’s only more of a spectacle when you enter on the arm of Nakahara Chuuya. 

Lingering looks in your direction, wary stares in his—you’re grateful that he came to escort you, because if you’d come alone, you would’ve swarmed with suitors as soon as you got down the steps. Chuuya is not quite as much of a deterrent as Dazai would’ve been, if only because Chuuya won’t actually kill someone in the middle of Mishima’s ball and nobody can ever be sure of what Dazai is capable of, but his presence and reputation will keep unwanted annoyances away for most of the night at least. 

By the end of the night, they’ll get more desperate for a conversation, and only Dazai and Mori himself are capable of keeping them away from you at that point, unless Chuuya steps up his game, of course, but he has as much of an appearance to keep up as you do. You’re not looking forward to it—your eyes keep darting up to the ticking clock, knowing each passing second draws closer to suffering. 

You didn’t even want to come tonight. You weren’t going to come, you’d gone to quite the lengths trying to fake being sick, and you thought you succeeded until Mori messaged you this morning telling you that you could either come to the event or go deal with Shikibu Murasaki’s little stunt in Sapporo that has your biggest weapon supplier backing out on your next shipment. Since he knew very well you didn’t want to deal with that, the only option was to come to the ball—someone must’ve ratted you out to him, but you don’t know who. You almost think it must’ve been Chuuya, because Dazai hasn’t spoken to you in over a week.

You still haven’t seen him, which you suppose is a good thing because if he was going to shove in your face that he came here with someone else, then he would’ve done it by now. You aren’t even sure if he’s here; you’ve tried to keep an eye out for him, positioning yourself in a way that your gaze can always stray to the edges of the room in hopes of catching sight of him, but you haven’t seen him at all in the three hours that you’ve been here.

You’re standing with Chuuya and two of Mishima’s daughters now. Noriko keeps trying to shift closer to you, lashes fluttering and lips curled up into a soft smile. Usually, you would entertain the girl—she’s pretty, and at the very least, makes for entertaining conversation, which is more than you can say for the rest of the Sun and Steel upper echelon, but you’re so occupied with Dazai that she can hardly hold your attention for more than a few seconds.

“I haven’t seen him at all tonight,” you say quietly when Mishima himself comes over to your small group, a stern expression on his face as he beckons his daughters over before giving both you and Chuuya an apologetic look. “Have you?” 

“No,” Chuuya says, taking a sip of his champagne as he leans against the wall. “I know he said he was coming though.”

Your expression twists in annoyance as you take in a deep breath. Your glass is empty, and usually, there are people circling to keep them full—your old mentor always used to warn you not to fall for the trap. The hosts of events always like to liquor up the attendees; drunker you are, the looser your lips, and you’re usually quite careful to keep it to one drink and never finish your second.

Tonight, you are on your fifth. Dangerous work, because you’re still going to have to entertain people when they inevitably start coming up to you—which is any minute now, you can feel the lingering stares and you can see how people are creeping closer. But you’re just so bothered by everything with Dazai that every time you finish a glass, you’re seeking out the next to try to numb your nerves.

“You know something,” you accuse quietly, giving Chuuya a cold side-eye. He stiffens, but neither confirms nor denies, which is a confirmation in itself. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“I can’t,” Chuuya says tightly, and you raise your eyebrows because you expected him to say ‘it’s not for me to say’ like he usually does when he feels like you should hear something from someone else. He can’t, does that mean… “I just…”

“You can’t because you’ve been ordered not to,” you realize, face shifting in confusion. “Mori ordered you not to. What happened during the incident last week, Chuuya?” 

The expression that crosses Chuuya’s face is haunted, and it makes your mouth dry, because what the hell happened and why is no one telling you the truth? You don’t even get the chance to badger him about it, because Noriko and Michiko are coming back over, both of them looking incredibly displeased by whatever their father said.

“He’s so annoying,” Noriko complains, immediately clinging to your arm and resting her head against your bicep dramatically. “You two are so lucky that you don’t have parents to helicopter you like he does.”

You and Chuuya immediately exchange a look at her words, and even Michiko cringes a little, but you otherwise don’t react beyond just trying to not roll your eyes. These girls are so out of touch with reality that it’s almost concerning, but they, more than anyone else at this event, have loose lips that you like to take advantage of.

“No,” you sigh lightly, “I only have Mori. Somehow, I feel that’s worse.”

Noriko giggles like you’ve said the funniest thing in the world, and you miss Dazai desperately. At least him being here would have Mishima��s daughters acting a little more subdued, would maybe even chase them off. You don’t like how they act around him because you know it used to bother him, but you’re not gonna complain when you could be benefiting from it if he wasn’t being an ass.

She starts to say something else, but before she can, Chuuya’s eyes shoot open as he looks at something behind you. You instantly straighten, turning your head to follow his gaze and your breath catches when it lands on just who you thought would draw that reaction from Chuuya.

Dazai.

He’s finally made his appearance, and you can’t draw your eyes away from him. He never gets dressed up for these events like you and Chuuya do, so he’s still wearing that same black three-piece suit he wears every day, just without the dark trench coat he usually wears over it. He’s leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest and a cold expression on his face as he stares in your direction. He doesn’t meet your gaze, but he does stare at where Noriko is clinging to your arm, lip twitching in irritation; Noriko seems to notice too from the way she lets go of your arm and tries to casually shift away from you, an annoyed look on her face as she does.

You hear her let out a noise of disgust, side-eyeing in Dazai’s direction, and you raise your eyebrows at her pointedly. You know that it was directed toward Dazai’s sudden appearance, but you’re not about to sit here and let that slide, so you turn a cool look onto her in response. Noriko instantly looks down to the ground, an ashamed look crossing her face—not for the disparaging attitude toward Dazai, but for being obvious enough for you to notice it.

You feel a bit more tense now as you force your attention off of Dazai back to Chuuya, who exchanges a short look with you before pointedly glancing over to where one of Mishima’s newer executives, Ibuse Masuji is whispering with one of his colleagues, looking in your direction a bit too frequently for comfort. He’s going to come over and ask you for a dance soon, probably around the same time Michiko starts tugging Chuuya in the direction of the hardwood floor at the center of the room—Noriko won’t ask you now that Dazai is here.

Wonderful, you think to yourself bitterly. You don’t really want to deal with Ibuse tonight, but you suppose you’ll probably get better information from him than Noriko. Noriko likes to ramble about more general gossip—who’s sleeping with who, who’s mad at who, and all of that is useful to an extent when you need to figure out what’s going on with Sun and Steel internal politics, but Ibuse has loose lips about more meaningful matters, and you’ve heard some nerve-wracking rumors about the Red Chamber recently.

The things you do for the Port Mafia. 

You straighten your necklace, gaze lifting to Chuuya again as you withhold a sigh. You can see Ibuse starting to make his way across the event hall in your direction, and Chuuya gives you a pitying smile that instantly freezes as his eyes pin to something behind you again. You also freeze, because you know it could only mean one thing.

Dazai is coming over.

You raise your eyebrows at him pointedly, wanting to know whether or not Dazai’s approach is a good or bad one—if he’s coming over to finally address you, or if he’s coming over so he can more blatantly ignore you. Each one is equally possible, and the way Chuuya grimaces and shrugs only makes your anxiety spike more.

But you get your answer as soon as he arrives.

You inhale sharply when you feel Dazai’s fingers brush over your hip as he comes to stand directly behind you. You can feel his chest brushing your back, his presence warm and looming directly behind you. With his sudden arrival, the conversation happening between Noriko and Michiko comes to an abrupt halt, and you can see Ibuse freeze mid-step from where he was drawing closer to you. The two girls avert their gaze to the ground, not acknowledging Dazai, and it irritates you, they’ve never hidden how unnerved Dazai makes them, and though you don’t think it bothers him anymore, you know very well it used to. 

Your throat spasms when Dazai’s hand settles more firmly on your hip, and you turn your head slightly to the side to look up at him, breath catching when you find that his gaze is already lidded and focused on you, visible eye far too dark and tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Dance with me,” Dazai murmurs, only for you to hear.

“You want to dance?” you ask, a bit incredulously, trying not to be hyper-focused on how he’s touching you. You don’t know what has gotten into him, but it has your heart racing. “Dazai, what-”

“Dance with me.” 

It’s not a request, you realize, taking in a sharp breath as his gaze becomes more intense. You can feel curious eyes on you from around the room; it’s to be expected, it’s you and Dazai. Of everyone here, the two of you always have the most eyes on you at all times, but it’s different now. 

Dazai usually keeps to himself during events, he wanders up and down the length of the room, keeping to the edges to observe what’s happening unless he’s looking for information from someone. He really stays true to his moniker, a black wraith haunting the shadows and keeping everyone on edge. You can’t remember the last time he willingly stepped out of them to interact with people, much less engage in things like dancing.

“Okay,” you agree quietly, not even bothering to look back at your previous companions as Dazai’s hand slides from your hip to your lower back, guiding you to the hardwood floor where several other couples are already swaying along to the music being played by the quintet in the corner of the room. “What’s gotten into you?”

Dazai doesn’t answer your question, looking down at you from the corner of his eye for a moment before looking back ahead. He doesn’t have to search for a spot on the dance floor—as soon as people realize that’s where he’s headed, they’re quick to leave a wide berth for the two of you, no one wanting to get too close to the most infamous Port Mafia executive.

Your heart races as he leads you to the center of the hardwood floor. Though you can feel dozens of eyes pinned on the two of you, all you can focus on is him. You can hardly breathe when he turns to face you, one hand resting on your hip while he holds the other out for you to take. You swallow thickly as you place your hand into his. He entwines your fingers with his instead of the traditional palm-to-palm, and he pulls you toward him so that your chests are brushing. You’re so close to him that you catch the faint and familiar scent of smoke and iron and it makes you dizzy.

Distantly, you know that this probably isn’t smart. If people think that you and Dazai are together, it will only be harder for you to get information from them. They’ll be wary around you in fear of him, and you’re not even sure if your ability will be enough to counteract the anxiety he triggers in people. You shouldn’t be risking that just for a dance, but…

But you can never think straight when he’s around, even less when his skin is warm against yours, and the way he’s looking at you… His dark eye is heavy with so many emotions, too many for you to even place a single one—you’ve always been good at reading people, but never him, and now, more than ever, you wish you could. You want to know what he’s thinking. You want to know what he’s feeling. You want to know him, because as much as you claim you do, you know that he masks himself from you. You want to ask him again—what’s gotten into you? Why have you been avoiding me? But you think it’ll scare him off, so instead, you ask:

“When did you learn to dance? Today?”

He’s better than you thought he would be. He effortlessly spins you across the dancefloor. Each step is quick and precise—you’ve had training in this type of dancing, but you still struggle a little to keep up with him. Though, you think it’s less because of your own skill, and more because of who exactly your partner is.

“What makes you think I haven’t known how?” Dazai drawls, voice low and languid, dark eye glittering with amusement. His grip on your hand tightens just a little as he pulls you into a half-spin. He presses when you don’t immediately respond, “Hm?” 

“Because you’re you,” you finally answer with a fleeting smile. “So? When did you learn?”

“Tonight,” he tells you. “I’ve been watching them.”

“Hah,” you say—of course he’s this good just through observation. Ever the mirror. “You better not embarrass me.”

“Like this?” he asks with a smile that puts you on edge, and you give him a dirty look when he purposely takes a wrong step, forcing you to overstep in order to not land on his foot. You’re careful to make it look casual—a wider turn rather than a misstep—but with the number of eyes currently on the two of you, you know very well that people probably caught it. His apology comes in the form of an airy, “Whoops,” that you know he doesn’t mean.

His lips curl up into a smug smile, and your breath catches when you feel his hand slide from your hip to your low back so he can pull your body flush to his for the next turn. Your throat spasms as you tilt your head back to look up at him, and again, there’s that unreadable look in his eye as his eyes rove over your face. 

“Why?” you finally brave yourself to ask, voice quiet and too breathy for your liking. You don’t specify what the why is, and that’s intentional, this way he can pick what he wants to answer and won’t feel as cornered by the question. 

His visible eye narrows for a moment, and then something akin to reluctance spreads across his face, and then resignation. You wonder if he’ll answer, hardly even able to breathe as you wait for him to speak. But after a few tense moments, disappointment hits you hard, because a teasing smile spreads across his lips and you know he’s going to evade the question.

Still, your heart races when Dazai dips you down, lowering his face so that his lips brush your ear as he says, “You looked like you were bracing yourself for a bullet with Ibuse getting ready to come over. Figured I’d rescue you.”

Though the music continues, Dazai doesn’t lift you from the dip. He does pull his face back so that he can look you in the eye. He’s so close to you that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your lips and it leaves you dizzy. The look in his eye now—you almost want to dare to believe you know what it is—it’s too close to the same emotion you feel whenever the two of you are curled up on the couch watching a movie. It’s too similar to longing, yearning, the desperate need for more, the desire to be yours just as badly as you want to be his, but you don’t want to get your hopes up when you know he can crush them in an instant.

His gaze drops down to your lips and then drags back up to your face, and you know he won’t kiss you, not in front of all of the eyes currently pinned on the two of you. Not in front of Mori. It’s nice to imagine though.

“Is that really why?” you breathe out, eyes searching his for an answer.

Something new crosses his face—it’s sharp and it’s angry, something that promises violence, not toward you, but toward the one who provoked it. His gaze cuts to the side briefly in the direction of where Ibuse Masuji is still standing frozen in the middle of the event hall, staring at the two of you, and then he looks back down at you, lips tilted up into a wry smile. 

“Partially,” he says, but doesn’t give you the chance to question any further, finally pulling you up from the dip to fall in line with the last steps of the dance. 

He turns you so that your back is pressed to his chest, palm cupping the back of your hand, fingers interlaced. His free hand slides around to your abdomen, holding your body flush to his. The music slows as the song comes to an end, but Dazai doesn’t release you. You turn your head to the side and tilt your head back to look up at him, inhaling when you find that he’s already looking at you, dark hair hanging in his lidded eye as he watches you.

“Are you… coming home tonight?” you finally ask, voice soft and hesitant.

“I’ll think about it,” he says, but his eye is glittering playfully, so you know that he’ll be home waiting for you by the time you get done at the event. He always manages to leave early—no one has the nerve to try to stop him. He dips his head a bit lower, lips ghosting your ear as he says, “You should thank me, you won’t have to worry about anyone else bothering you tonight.”

He finally lets go of you, your arms fall limp to your side and your breath is a bit too shaky for comfort. He tosses a wink in your direction before shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way back toward the outskirts of the room.

And he’s right—for the rest of the night, not a single person dared to approach you.

———

Even though you’re fairly certain Dazai will be there waiting for you, you still hold your breath as the elevator doors slide open to your apartment. Your feet are aching, you hardly got a chance to sit once during the night and you’re ready to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. 

As you step into your apartment, you can’t help the way your heart drops when you don’t immediately see him, and you especially can’t help the relief that spreads through you when you realize he’s lounging on the couch, out of sight from the angle you entered at. At once, you can breathe again—you’ve missed him the past week, more than you ever could’ve imagined.

“Hi,” you say quietly, coming to stand at the foot of the couch.

Dazai shed his black waistcoat, his shirt is untucked and his tie is loose around his neck, head resting on the far armrest as he looks up at you with a lazy grin that lights your nerves on fire.

“Hi,” he echoes. “I picked a movie.”

“A good one I hope,” you tell him with a small smile. “Let me go get changed.”

You turn on your heel to make your way up the steps to your bedroom, but before you can get to the staircase, Dazai speaks up again, “Can you even reach the clip?”

You hesitate as you glance at him over your shoulder. You technically can, but… “No,” you reply, and then lie, “Chuuya helped me get it on.”

Dazai’s lips flatten, but he does push himself to his feet to follow you up the stairs. You spare a glance behind you, catching the hard expression on his face as he stares at your back. You raise your eyebrows at him and it instantly washes away, replaced with a teasing smile as he raises his right back at you. You squint at him, but shake your head as you reach the top of the stairs, stepping into your room. 

When Dazai steps in after you, you swear the temperature in the room rises. 

You turn to look at him, and he tilts his head to the side idly, dark eye dancing with amusement as he slowly approaches you. He looks a mess with how his shirt is untucked and his tie is loosely hanging around his neck, hair tousled from laying back on the couch—he looks a mess, and you’ve never wanted him more.

You’re sick of the back and forth with him—it’s been a year and a half of it and you’re tired—you want to be his, you want him to be yours. Every time you think Dazai might finally make the first move, he ends up taking fifty steps backward for whatever reason. You don’t want to push it because you have a feeling it will only make him even more standoffish. Tonight has been more progress than you’ve made in a while—if you and him are going to happen, it’ll be now or it’ll never happen. Your pride won’t allow you to chase and pine for any longer.

He comes to stand directly in front of you and you think he wants you to turn around, but just when you’re about to, he gives you a sharp smile that instantly has you on edge, and then he lowers himself to his knees in front of you. Your lips part in shock, heart beat stuttering in your chest.

“We should get these off first, right?” he hums, reaching down for the clasp of your heel, knowing damn well the effect he’s having on you from the smug expression on his face. Although you can’t help but notice that his eye is darker than usual, pupil blown wide as he undos the clasp and slides your heel off. 

“Right,” you agree breathily, lashes fluttering when you feel the pads of his fingers press against your ankle as he places your foot back down on the ground before shifting to do the same for the other one.

This time, his throat bobs nervously and his fingers fumble over the clasp. When he finally gets the clasp off, he looks up at you through his lashes as he slides your heel off, but he doesn’t rise to his feet right away once he sets your foot down. Your fingers twitch at your side to reach out and brush them against his face, but you refrain, if only barely. 

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai finally rises to his feet, and he’s standing all too close to you. You can feel the heat of his body, you have to tilt your head up to look at him and when you do, you can feel his breath against your lips.

“Turn,” he murmurs.

You swallow thickly as you do as he asks, and your breath audibly catches when you feel his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he shifts your hair out of the way. You expect him to tease you, but you realize his breathing is almost as unsteady as yours is, you can feel each puff against the back of your neck and it has your hair on end. Your lashes flutter as Dazai slowly unzips your dress, the cool air of your room stark in contrast to the line of fire left behind with each brush of his fingers against your spine.

When he gets the zipper all the way down, he doesn’t move away, hands settling on your hips as he hovers behind you. You think your heart might race right out of your chest, head foggy and unsteady on your feet.

For a few long moments, neither of you speak.

And then, you make a terrible mistake.

“Why have you been avoiding me the past week?” you ask quietly, desperate for some sort of answer as to what happened between the two of you that made him go cold on you like this. His grip on your hips tightens, and you instantly want to eat your words. “Dazai?”

He doesn’t even deign you with a response.

Your heart is lodged in your throat when you feel his hands drop from your hips and his presence leaving from behind you. You’re cold, your body is, your heart is, and now you really are unsteady without his hands to ground you. You whip around to face him, knees wobbly as you call after him again, but you don’t chase after him—not this time. Bitterly, you think you’ve spent the last year and a half chasing after him and all you ever get in return is him running away.

You watch him disappear down the steps, frozen in place because how did one question ruin everything. For the first time in weeks, you thought you were actually making progress with him and just like that, it’s back to square one. You feel like you don’t breathe until you hear the elevator arrive on your floor, signalling that he’s left.

“Shit,” you breathe out shakily, sitting back on your bed and burying your face in your hands. You can feel all of the champagne you drank earlier in the night threatening to come up and your head feels light. You fumble for your phone, clicking on a familiar contact and gasping his name as soon as he answers the call, “Chuuya?”

“Yo,” you hear him ask, concerned. “You good? Aren’t you with-”

“Can you come over?” you push out before he has the chance to say his name. “I just-I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep waiting. I can’t-”

“I’m coming,” Chuuya tells you when your words cut out into a sob. God, you can’t remember the last time you cried like this. Your whole body aches as you pull your knees to your chest and rock yourself back and forth trying to calm yourself down. “I’ll be there in five. I’m coming.”

You told yourself before that it was tonight or never, and you’re done waiting for him. No matter how badly it hurts to force yourself to move on—you’re done. 

You have to be, for your own sake. 

[kingofthewilderwest]

I feel like I have, sort of. It's been over a decade and I've been in a fever dream since. What happened? I don't know. I don't know how I don't know.

There were multiple bookstores on the downtown street, several big, and all delightful. I was walking through downtown on my way to the usual used bookstore I visited. This place was a treasure, one of those used bookstores where the shopfront looks tiny, but you step inside and it runs deep; there's rows and rows and rows of books in invitingly dark niches, every shelf stuffed to max capacity, and then mountains of books stacked every which way on all other space—book skyscrapers conquering the limited floor real estate, book stacks climbing up the desk where the employee would take your card, book stacks morphing into the shelf so you hardly knew where the shelf ended and the freeform stacks began—the ultimate organized, chaotic clutter of books, books, books. You never knew what you'd find, but the books ran heady and obscure, a delightful deep-dive of knowledge.

But on my way, a man beckoned me to an unassuming door. I'd seen the door before, I think, but it'd always been a locked mystery. It was on the main street filled with store fronts, but it might've been squeaked between two buildings. There was another store cheek-and-jowl next to it, so it had to be a tiny sliver of real estate. It was a regular door and there was no accompanying storefront to show you what was inside. Just a door, and on it, the name of the store. Another bookshop, allegedly. Allegedly, again, because that door was easy to miss, and because I'd never seen anyone go in or out of it or seen signs of life that you could go in and out of it.

Today was different. This man, he beckoned me in. The door, it was opened to me.

And inside was a bookstore six times the size I thought it could be. Books displayed in inviting stacks on tables in the front. Bookshelves snaking about the interior, all in their eclectic order. Books climbing up the walls to the ceiling. The interior was cramped and maze-ish, but, at the same time, it was vast.

I didn't see all the books at once, but therein lay the magic of it. Every time I thought I'd seen more books than I could expect, I came across another passage that opened into another area. The books climbing to the walls could be accessed by a staircase to a second floor. A second floor! Here? How?! The entire way up to the second floor: books covering each inch. And then you'd turn and there was the final room, books again covering every inch. Lots of old books—not trashy, but those types of heavy, beautiful, rare treasures.

It was enchanting.

It was so enchanting, in fact, that I feel like the bookstore upright disappeared after I left it.

Not just the bookstore.

But the door.

The damn door.

Disappeared.

In this city that I'd been living in years, on a street I'd been shopping for years and knew every inch of.

I kept looking for that door on the way to the used bookstore I usually went to. I kept saying, "Well, it's an easy door to miss." I'd keep peering at the nooks and crannies between buildings, thinking, "It was this intersection, right? Or did I remember wrong?" I never... saw that door again. I never went into that bookstore again.

I don't have dreams that are realistic and can be mistaken for reality. I'm a vanilla person who doesn't even consume coffee, let alone something that could make me trip.

What the heck happened? What did I remember wrong? Because I had to have remembered something wrong—where the door was, what building it was, what it looked like inside, something, something, something! My mind vividly tells me where the door is, but there's no door there! There's! No! Door! There! There's no door anywhere up and down that street in the vague vicinity of where I was teleported away to this fucking fae-ass bookstore.

I looked for years, guys! I have looked for years trying to refind just the door!

It's a mystery that's nagged me for over a decade, and it'll nag me for decades more.

yeah libraries are cool but have you ever found a library with a secret doorway disguised as a bookshelf that leads to a smaller, hidden library filled with ancient books full of mysteries and forgotten knowledge? me neither and i'm sad about it

[inseobts]

Omg I absolutely adore your Law fics!! I’d love to read about a fake dating scenario between a Strawhat reader and Law in Wano like you did with Zoro. He’d be such a cutie 🥰

Thank you 🙏

Undercover Affection

law x strawhat!reader

a/n: omg I was so excited to write this aknakjd it doesn't really follow the canon events tho

words count: 5.1k

tags: fake dating, fake marriage, teasing, wano arc

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

You and Trafalgar D. Water Law, notorious pirate and doctor, stand side by side in the bustling marketplace, trying to blend in as a newlywed couple. Law, wearing his usual stoic expression, is clearly out of his element, while you can’t help but smile at how ridiculous the whole situation is.

"Stop grinning like that" he mutters, adjusting the fake wedding ring you insisted on putting on his finger. He glares at you, but you only giggle louder.

"Oh, come on, it’s not so bad. We’ve got to make it convincing" you tease, leaning closer to him with exaggerated affection. His irritation is almost palpable.

"I don't need you hanging off me like that. We're here for a mission, not for you to play around." His voice is calm, but the faint redness creeping up his neck betrays him.

You smirk, knowing exactly how much it bothers him "But I love how grumpy you get when I do this. It’s like a whole new side of you."

You look at him with playful eyes, wrapping your arm around his, deliberately snuggling closer, and watching the slight twitch in his jaw.

"You're insufferable" he grumbles, but you can tell from the way his eyes flicker to yours that he's secretly enjoying it. Even if he won't admit it, you know this act is something he didn’t expect and now he can’t stop thinking about it.

You wink at him “You know, you’re really cute when you’re angry.”

Law scoffs but the tips of his ears go red, which only makes you smirk wider.

The two of you continue to walk through the crowded streets of Wano, and the people around you don't seem to pay much attention, at least not to Law. But you, on the other hand, draw plenty of stares. It's almost laughable how you're both playing the part of a loving couple so well. You’re sure the act would’ve made some people second-guess themselves, if not for your obvious affection for Law.

“Do you really have to hold my hand like this?” Law mutters, trying to keep his face neutral. His tone is deadpan, but his hand doesn't pull away, even though he clearly wants to.

“Yes, I do. It’s important for the cover, we're married, remember?” You tighten your grip slightly, watching him try his hardest to stay composed, and you can’t help but relish in how embarrassed he looks.

“...I’m going to regret this” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible.

“No, you won’t,” you say sweetly, squeezing his hand with a grin “You like it.”

Law doesn’t say anything for a moment. His face remains impassive, but you can see the little vein in his forehead twitching. It’s clear that he’s not nearly as indifferent as he’s trying to make himself seem.

Before he can retort, you pull his arm, dragging him towards a stand with fresh produce "Look! They have strawberries!!"

You start picking up the plump, red fruit, inspecting it with exaggerated curiosity. Law watches you, his arms crossed, a frown on his face.

"You’re acting like a child," he observes dryly, clearly disinterested. But you know he’s watching, and deep down, you know that he’s silently amused.

“You’re just mad because I’m having fun. Don’t worry, I'll buy you some too” you say, but the moment you say it, you know he’ll probably refuse it.

Law doesn't respond, but you catch the tiniest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, just for a moment. His mouth tightens, but it’s not out of frustration anymore. It’s something else, something softer, though he’d never admit it.

You turn to him and offer one of the strawberries "Want one? You might smile for once."

He takes the strawberry reluctantly, muttering under his breath, "You're impossible" but you can see the corners of his mouth twitch, as if the smallest hint of a smile might want to escape.

The night comes, and you’re both sitting around a small campfire outside of town, eating a simple meal. Law’s still in his pirate garb, but you’ve managed to dress him up in something a little more traditional, at least in a way that blends with the locals. He looks even more irritated now that he’s out of his comfort zone, but you can’t help but stare at him.

"You know, you really should smile more," you say casually, picking at the food in front of you "You’d be less grumpy."

Law shoots you a glare, his gaze cold but somehow fond "I don’t need to smile."

“You say that, but you do smile sometimes, even when you don’t mean to,” you tease, leaning your head on your hand "Like when you're all annoyed. It’s cute."

His eyebrow twitches, and you immediately know you’ve hit a nerve.

"I do not get 'annoyed'," he hisses "I’m just... trying to survive being stuck here."

“Oh sure, but I’ve noticed something,” you say, leaning in with a smirk “Every time I annoy you, you get this cute little angry face. It’s the best part of the day.”

Law scowls harder, trying to maintain his composure, but you can see the way his face softens ever so slightly, as if he’s secretly enjoying your teasing.

“I’m not cute” he mutters, but his voice lacks its usual edge.

“Oh, trust me, you’re definitely cute. Especially when you try to hide it” you say, reaching over to poke his cheek, making him flinch.

“Don’t touch me” he warns, his patience thinning, but there's no real heat behind it.

You pull your hand back with a grin, trying to hide your glee “I bet I can get you to smile before this mission is over.”

“You won’t" he says, though there's a hint of challenge in his voice.

You wink at him “Wanna bet?”

Law looks at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing. But you both know it’s a challenge he’s already lost.

The next morning, the Heart Pirates gather. You and Law make your way back after a quick stop in the town. You’re both still playing the role of a happily married couple, though your grin and the slight blush on Law’s face tell a different story.

"Morning, you two" Bepo greets with a wave as you approach the group. He gives you both a curious glance but doesn’t comment right away. You notice his ears twitch slightly, as if he’s trying to figure something out.

"Morning" you reply sweetly, wrapping your arm around Law's waist. You can’t resist leaning into him just a little, making sure everyone notices.

Shachi and Penguin, standing nearby, exchange a quick look.

Law doesn't want to draw attention to it, but he's well aware of the curious stares from his crew.

"What's going on between you two?" Penguin asks, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow "I thought we were supposed to be working undercover, not pretending to be... a couple." He says "couple" with exaggerated air quotes, making sure the whole group hears it.

You giggle, looking up at Law "Oh, we are, don't worry. Usopp said we should go undercover as a freshly married couple, right, honey?" you say, dragging out the last word with far too much affection, but you actually did it to tease him. In facts, Law’s face tenses, and you can almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Bepo looks between the two of you, his expression softer than the others "You’re really convincing" he says, a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks. He clearly doesn’t quite understand the situation but seems to be happy for you, or at least trying to be supportive.

“You’re making him uncomfortable, y/n” Shachi teases, nudging you playfully.

“Well, it's a fake marriage after all” you reply with a grin “If he likes it or not we have to make it seem real, especially because we almost got caught”

Law huffs, crossing his arms tightly “We’re not really married. It’s a cover for the mission. And you...” He points at Shachi, who seems way too entertained by the situation “...don’t have to comment on it.”

"Sure, sure, but tell me this," Shachi continues, leaning in as though he's unraveling a great mystery "How come every time I look over, you're so close? So touchy-feely for just a mission. There’s gotta be something going on.”

Penguin snickers in the background, enjoying the show “Shachi might be onto something, Law. You sure you’re not falling for y/n?”

You wink at Law, watching his patience fray a little more “Oh, I think he’s already there” you say, making sure to be extra teasing.

Law narrows his eyes, clearly not thrilled at the idea of his crew picking up on this “I am not! Stop messing around, all of you. We have more important things to focus on.”

But you can tell that beneath the irritation, there’s a hint of something else, embarrassment? Maybe even… a little fondness?

“I’m just saying,” Bepo starts, his voice soft but sincere “you two look so natural together. It’s kind of adorable.”

Your eyes soften, and you offer Bepo a warm smile "I’m glad someone sees it that way," you reply, winking at Law again. He’s practically fuming now, but there's a twinkle in his eyes that he’s not quite able to hide.

“Adorable?” Law scoffs, his face now an unmistakable shade of red “I swear, you’re all insane.” He glares at his crew, but even the glare doesn't hide how his heart's racing just a little.

Later that evening, as you and Law sit around the campfire again, this time with the rest of the Heart Pirates on watch duty, the teasing continues, though now it’s less playful and more knowing. Everyone’s fully aware that something’s up between you two, and it’s clear that you’ve been having a lot of fun with the idea.

“Alright, alright, let’s just get this out of the way," Shachi starts, taking a seat beside you and leaning in conspiratorially "Who fell first?”

Law doesn’t even look at you, but you can feel his discomfort radiating “We’re not doing this” he mutters with an exasperated sigh.

But the teasing continues, the Heart Pirates are all looking at you two with amusement in their eyes. Bepo and Penguin are now watching you closely, seemingly trying to pick up on every little interaction, while Shachi just can’t stop himself from pressing the issue.

“You two are definitely more than just a cover story,” Shachi says, grinning from ear to ear “You’re always so close, so... affectionate.”

“Yeah!” Penguin chimes in, clearly enjoying the drama “It’s like you guys are really a thing.”

Law remains silent for a few beats, his jaw clenched, clearly holding his frustration in check. But you notice the tightening of his fists and the way his eyes flicker with irritation.

You glance over at him, but before you can even tease him again, you notice his patience clearly running out “That’s enough” he snaps, voice low but sharp.

The whole group falls quiet, the sudden intensity of his voice making them look at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t like this attention, alright?” Law’s voice is colder now, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something harder, something… serious. His gaze shifts to you, and you’re caught off guard by how harsh his words are “I don’t like you hanging off me all the time, I don’t like being treated like your husband, and I don’t like you constantly teasing me. We’re not a couple, y/n. We’re not even close enough for you to call me your friend, let alone you husband...”

The words hit like a slap, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. His face is set in a frown, his usual stoic expression replaced by something colder, more distant. You feel a pang in your chest, your heart sinking at how genuine he seems.

The rest of the crew falls silent, unsure of what to say.

You take a step back, your arm slipping as you pull away. Your eyes flicker down to the ground, trying to hide the hurt that's suddenly swelling inside you.

You’re not sure why, but the way he said it, so blunt, so final, makes you believe him. Maybe you had been too forward. Maybe you pushed him too far, even if you were just jocking around.

You try to force a smile, but it feels weak, forced "Right," you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel this uncomfortable."

Law doesn’t respond, too focused on his crew and the way they’re looking at him. The awkward silence stretches, and you find yourself drifting further away. You can’t bring yourself to joke anymore, to tease him as you had before. The sting of his words cuts deeper than you want to admit.

The rest of the evening goes by in an uncomfortable silence. You eat your meal, your eyes occasionally flicking toward Law, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him for long. Every time you do, you feel the weight of his words echoing in your mind.

The next few days feel... different. You’ve stopped teasing him, stopped getting close like you used to. Whenever you have to interact, you’re careful to keep your distance, avoiding any unnecessary physical contact. You act as professional as possible, keeping the focus entirely on the mission.

It doesn’t escape the Heart Pirates’ notice, though. They watch as the dynamics between you and Law change. You’re not the playful couple anymore. Instead, you seem more distant, more reserved—especially around Law.

Shachi notices first "Hey, y/n, everything okay?" he asks one morning as you sit near the ship’s edge, watching the horizon. He knows something’s off, and though he doesn’t want to pry, he can’t help but ask.

You force a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes “Yeah. Just tired, that’s all.”

Bepo, who’s been quietly observing, speaks up hesitantly “You haven’t been... teasing him anymore. Are you two—”

“We’re fine,” you interrupt quickly, too quickly. You don’t want to explain. You don’t even know what to say "Just focusing on the mission, as it should have been from the very start"

The conversation ends there, but you can feel the weight of their concern. They’re noticing the shift, the sudden distance between you and Law. But none of them, especially not Law, know how to fix it.

Days pass in Wano, and you continue to keep your distance from Law, though the tension between the two of you feels thicker than ever. Every time you’re near him, the awkwardness is palpable. But something else is happening in the background.

The Strawhats are back in Wano. After all the time you’ve spent apart.

It’s in the middle of a bustling market square, where you and Law are walking around trying to gather some supplies for the mission, when you spot them. You freeze, your heart racing. Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes land on Sanji.

Without thinking, you let everything fall from your hands and sprint toward him. Sanji’s back is turned, so he doesn’t see you coming until it’s too late. You throw yourself into his arms with tears in your eyes, overwhelmed with relief.

“Sanji!” you exclaim, your voice muffled against his chest as you cling to him.

Sanji’s eyes widen in surprise, but then he smiles softly, his arms wrapping around you “Hey there, y/n” he says, his tone warm “It’s been a while, huh?”

You pull back slightly, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand “I’ve missed you so much” you admit softly.

Sanji raises an eyebrow, but his smile softens “It’s good to see you too. Looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind, though. You okay?”

You hesitate for a moment, then give a small nod “Yeah... I’m fine now. I just... I’ve been through some stuff. But I’m glad you’re here.”

Law watched everything, staying back. As soon as he saw you hugging the cook, he took everything you dropped and left you alone with them, even because it looks like you forgot about him.

The next day, you find yourself meeting up with Sanji at his little noodle shop. You’ve told him everything, how you and Law have been pretending to be a married couple, how your feelings have gotten tangled up, and how, after Law’s harsh words, you’ve pulled away to keep things professional. You tell him about the emotional distance between you and Law, and the complicated feelings you’re dealing with.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” you admit, your hands twisting nervously in your lap “I feel like I’m losing him. He doesn’t want me around, and it’s driving me crazy. But I don’t know how to fix it.”

Sanji’s expression softens as he listens to you, his gaze gentle

“I thought it was just supposed to be a cover” you murmur, “but somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like one. And now... now it feels like everything’s falling apart.” You pause, looking down “I think I care about him more than I thought I did.”

Sanji reaches out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze “You’ve got a good heart, y/n. And I know Law is a complicated guy. But if you care about him, you need to figure out what you want. You’re not just a cover story, okay?”

You meet his gaze, feeling a sense of clarity you hadn’t realized you were missing “You’re right. I just wish I knew how to fix it.”

Sanji leans in, his voice dropping lower “It’s okay to take things slow. And if you want to... maybe you could start by not hiding from him anymore.”

Before you can respond, you both hear some footsteps approaching. You quickly stand up and walk away from the alley, but you notice people beginning to gossip behind you.

“You heard about y/n and her husband, right?” one woman whispers to her friend.

“Yeah, I heard she’s been cheating on him with that blonde guy. Can you believe that? I mean, the nerve!” another woman replies, her voice dripping with gossip.

The words hit you like a punch in the gut. You feel your face flush with embarrassment and frustration. Cheating? How did they come up with that?

You try to ignore it, but it’s hard. The whispers follow you as you walk back to the group, and you can feel the sting of their words deep in your chest.

Later that evening, as you rejoin Law and the rest of the crew, you notice his usual cold demeanor has shifted. He’s standing by the fire, his back to you, as if he’s been waiting for you. When you approach, he doesn’t immediately acknowledge you.

"Are you... okay?" you ask softly, but you can see the frustration in his posture. He doesn’t respond immediately, but his jaw tightens.

“I don’t appreciate people talking about my personal life like that, true or not...” Law says, his voice low and clipped “You’ve been avoiding me for days, and now I hear rumors? What’s going on?”

Your stomach twists in knots “Law...”

“I don't care about you and the blondie but...” he cuts you off, his gaze icy “I can’t focus when people are talking about me like that, especially if we're supposed to be undercover here.”

You feel your throat tighten, the weight of his words sinking in. He’s frustrated, and his anger makes your heart ache “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you know Sanji is my friend, people just don't know the truth and make things up” you admit, your voice shaky.

Law sighs, running a hand through his hair, looking as if he’s about to snap “Then stop avoiding me. We’re in this together, but if you keep pushing me away, I’m not sure what we’re doing anymore... we can't bring so much attention on us.”

The atmosphere between you and Law is still tense. You don’t want things to spiral even further, so you suggest an idea, something that might distract from the tension and let everyone cool off for a while.

"Why don’t we go grab some food?" you suggest, your voice a little hesitant but hopeful.

Law turns to you, his expression neutral “You think food is going to help?”

You shrug, trying to lighten the mood "Maybe. Besides, I’ve been hearing about this noodle shop... the chef is called Sanji, I think?... I’ve heard it’s good..."

Law’s brows furrow, but his interest is piqued "Sanji? You think going right to him won't worsen things?"

You nod "Maybe if people see us all together, as three good friends, they're going to stop talk about me cheating..."

He looks at you for a moment, then sighs, clearly not wanting to be left alone with his thoughts any longer "Fine. Let’s go."

The small noodle spot is tucked away in a corner of Wano, busy and filled with the warmth of the cooking. When you and Law arrive, you’re greeted immediately by Sanji’s bright smile, but there’s something in his eyes that softens when he sees you. He’s not as flirtatious as usual, and there’s a sharpness in his gaze as he sees the tension between you and Law.

"Well, well, if it isn’t the infamous 'married couple'" Sanji says, his voice light, though there’s an edge to it now.

You try to smooth things over, grinning at him “Yeah, we’re here to eat...”

It’s time to kill the rumors.

“We’ll sit over here,” you say quickly, guiding Law to a seat “Make it clear to everyone that we’re... still a team.”

Law sits down stiffly, clearly not thrilled, but it’s obvious he’s playing along. He keeps his eyes ahead, refusing to acknowledge Sanji’s deliberate coldness toward him.

Sanji brings over bowls of noodles with flair, but his attitude towards Law remains distant, even a little antagonistic. He makes sure to place the food right in front of you, offering a special smile "Just for you, y/n. A little something extra special, like always."

He looks at you, and his smile softens just a bit. But when his eyes flick to Law, the warmth vanishes, and the tension in the room grows thicker.

Law doesn’t react right away, but you can feel the change in him. His jaw tightens, his body language growing even more tense than it was before. He clenches his fist under the table, clearly irritated.

"Stop playing games," Law mutters, his voice low and tight with barely contained frustration "Just serve the food and stop making this weird."

Sanji, clearly not intimidated, shrugs "If you don’t like how things are going, maybe you should take a look at how you’re treating her. It’s obvious you’ve got no control over the situation"

You flinch at the words, but Sanji’s eyes flicker to you in a way that makes you feel a bit guilty. You didn’t want this to turn into some kind of game, but now, it’s getting harder to keep things under wraps.

You look at Law, hoping to redirect the conversation "Let’s just eat," you say, trying to keep things casual "We need to look like a normal couple to the town. We don’t want any more rumors."

Law gives you a long, searching look before nodding "Fine. But we’re done with the theatrics, understood?"

As the meal progresses, the silence between you, Sanji, and Law grows thicker. The tension is almost unbearable, but it’s working, people around are starting to get the message. Law and you are a team, no matter the rumors, and the gossip about you "cheating" slowly starts to fade as the focus shifts to you two sitting together.

Sanji seems to settle into his role. He occasionally glances at you, making sure you’re taken care of, but the icy distance he’s putting between himself and Law is unmistakable. Law notices it too, and while he’s trying to keep his cool, it’s clear it’s starting to get under his skin.

Finally, Sanji returns to the counter, his back turned, leaving you and Law in silence. It’s the perfect opportunity to clear the air, but neither of you speaks.

You glance at Law, noticing the frustration in his eyes. He doesn’t like this. Doesn’t like the way Sanji is treating you, doesn’t like the way he’s feeling about the whole situation.

You try to lighten the mood, but it’s hard to ignore the tightness in his shoulders "You know, we’re supposed to be a married couple, not a couple of kids at a playground."

Law narrows his eyes at you "I didn’t sign up for this. The mission’s getting complicated."

You try to ignore the tug in your chest, a bit of confusion creeping in "It’s just a cover, Law. Nothing’s changed. We’re just doing what we need to do."

But the words hang there, and even though you say them, you know that things aren’t so simple anymore. You feel it, and you know Law does too.

As you leave the shop together, the streets of Wano no longer seem as welcoming as before. The weight of the situation presses down on you, and Law’s behavior is starting to affect you in ways you didn’t expect. You can’t figure out if it’s the mission weighing on him, or if it’s something more.

After the meal at Sanji’s, the rumors finally start dying down, but the damage between you and Law lingers. The tension is unbearable, Law barely looks at you, and you, still hurt from his earlier words, keep your distance.

Sanji notices. The crew notices. Even the damn town notices.

One evening, as you sit outside the inn you and Law have been staying at for your undercover mission, you overhear some locals whispering.

“They say that woman is still in love with her husband, but he doesn’t care for her.” “Shame. She looks miserable.” “She was always all so cute and clingy to him but she stopped entirely, he must’ve pushed her away.”

You clench your fists. It’s one thing to suffer in silence, but another to hear strangers pitying you.

Law suddenly walks past you, pausing for a second before speaking, “Go inside.” His voice is firm but quiet.

You don’t move “Why do you care?” you murmur, not looking at him “You made it clear I was just a nuisance to you and it's just a mission, which is almost over anyway given Zoro and Luffy are making trubles after trubles...”

Law exhales sharply “I never—” He stops, frustrated, before running a hand down his face “Listen, I was trying to stop myself from—” He cuts himself off again, jaw clenched.

You finally turn to him “From what?”

His silence is enough of an answer.

Your heart clenches, but you shake your head “You don’t have to force yourself to tolerate me anymore, Law. We’ll finish the mission, and after that—”

“Enough,” he snaps, suddenly grabbing your wrist. His grip is firm but not painful, just desperate “You don’t get to decide that.”

Your eyes widen as he pulls you toward him, his voice low but intense “I was a damn coward,” he mutters “You—you were always in my space, always teasing me, and I—” He exhales sharply “I pushed you away because I—”

You hold your breath.

“I fell for you” Law finally admits, looking at you with something raw and vulnerable in his gaze “I fell so hard, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Your heart nearly stops.

“You what?”

He groans, looking away “I can’t stand you ignoring me. I can’t stand watching you with Sanji, even though I know it’s nothing. And I hate that I made you think I didn’t care.”

The words hit you like a storm, leaving you speechless. He looks genuinely frustrated, at himself.

You swallow hard before whispering, “So what do we do now?”

Law looks at you, his grip tightening slightly “You tell me,” he murmurs, voice quieter now “Because if you still want me, then I—” He hesitates, then sighs “I don’t want this to be fake anymore.”

Your breath hitches.

For the first time in weeks, you grin “I mean... I think it's too soon to talk about marriage, isn't it?”

Law groans, rolling his eyes “Unbelievable.”

You laugh, and before you can stop yourself, you tug him down into a kiss.

And just like that, the mission doesn’t feel so complicated anymore.

Back on the Polar Tang, the Heart Pirates immediately notice the change.

Law still wears his usual scowl, still grumbles under his breath whenever you tease him, but there’s no real bite behind his words anymore. The biggest difference? He lets you get away with it.

You lean against his side as he studies a map, chin resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t shove you off like he used to, he just sighs heavily, pretending to ignore you.

“Oi, captain,” Shachi calls out, smirking “Didn’t you say you hated being touched?”

Penguin snickers “Yeah, man, what happened to all that complaining? Because right now, it looks like you like it.”

Law doesn’t even look up, but you can see the way his jaw tightens, the tips of his ears turning pink “Shut up” he mutters, flipping a page of the map aggressively.

“Oh, come on, it’s adorable,” Bepo chimes in, tail wagging “You used to be all grumpy whenever she clung to you, and now you just accept it?”

You grin, tilting your head up to look at him “Aww, so you do like my attention.”

His eye twitches “I didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t deny it.”

Shachi and Penguin lose it, laughing while Bepo beams like a proud parent.

Law exhales through his nose, rubbing his temples. But despite the grumbling, he doesn’t move you away. And that’s when it clicks.

Shachi leans back, crossing his arms “Y’know, I think we all got it wrong before.”

Penguin nods, smirking “Yeah. We thought y/n was the lost cause, but—”

They both turn to Law, who immediately tenses, as if he knows what’s coming.

“You actually fell harder.”

The room falls silent.

You blink up at him, waiting for his reaction.

Law glares at his crew, looking about two seconds away from using Room just to teleport them out of his sight. But instead, he lets out a sharp exhale, shutting his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, he just mutters “Unbelievable.”

You beam and press a quick kiss to his cheek, watching as his face turns bright red.

Yeah. Maybe being undercover in Wano wasn’t such a disaster after all.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

It's the last day of Fluffebruary. My heart. Today's fill is: Marriage Proposals. I do reference the fills for days one, thirteen, nineteen (sort of), twenty-three, and twenty-six in this one. MCU has nothing on me. There's also switching POV, which I note by doing two lines of dashes. Time jumps within the POV are marked by one line of dashes. You can also read this on AO3 here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

Buck ambushes Bobby when he gets out of the bathroom, because he’s been trying to get Bobby alone all day.

“I need your advice,” he begs, and Bobby turns toward him with an expectant look on his face. “Is it ethical for me to get my boyfriend really drunk so he doesn’t wake up when I try to measure his ring size?”

Bobby blinks at him and shifts his weight to put his hands on his hips, his body language radiating exasperation and paternal disappointment. “Kid, what the hell do you think my answer’s going to be?”

He winces. “That I should’ve asked Chimney if I wanted a ‘yes’?”

“Probably.” He smiles and reaches out to squeeze Buck’s shoulder, jostling him a bit. “I’m happy for you two.”

“Thanks,” Buck says, smiling and finally not feeling like he’s going to shake out of his skin for the first time since he woke up that morning. “Any ideas?”

“You guys don’t have the same size hands?”

Buck flushes. “No, ah—his are a little bigger. Broader. His fingers are—I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed how big they are.”

Bobby raises an eyebrow, his hand retreating from Buck’s shoulder. “Can’t say I have.”

“Really? It’s, like, the second thing I noticed about him,” Buck says incredulously, and Bobby’s other eyebrow goes up. “Right. Okay, yeah. Straight guys don’t usually notice other guys’ hands.”

“Not unless I need to,” Bobby confirms. “Notice anyone else’s hands that might be the same size?”

Buck thinks about it for a moment and then it hits him. “Actually, yeah. I think I have. Thanks, Bobby.”

“Anytime, kid. Good luck. Let me know if you need anything,” he says, turning and wisely exiting the situation. Buck probably shouldn’t have gotten all gooey about how big Tommy’s hands are. To be fair, they're big and his fingers are thick.

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling out his phone.

Well, he might as well get a reference photo while he’s at it.

–

Sal slides into the booth across from him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Buck drops the beer mat he’s been playing with and looks around to make sure no one’s listening before leaning in. “What’s your ring size?”

He smirks and lifts his beer to his lips. “Why, Buckley, you know I’m a married man. You willing to fight it out with Gina or is this a side-piece situation?”

“Shut up,” Buck groans, sitting back as Sal cackles. “Also, Gina would gut me.”

“And dump you in a river,” Sal confirms. “You trying to make an honest man of our Tommy?”

Buck flushes and shrugs, picking up the beer mat again and running his finger along the edge. “Hoping to.”

“Good for you, kid. Thirteen and a half.” Buck’s head snaps up, and Sal’s got a real, genuine smile on his face. “But you can get ‘em resized pretty easy. What's yours?”

“E-eleven, I think?” he guesses, trying to remember the last time he'd looked. “Maybe a ten and a half. I don't really wear rings.”

Sal grins and holds out his beer. “Better get used to it.”

Buck feels a smile creep across his face and sighs, lifting his own beer to tap against Sal’s. “Hopefully.”

“I think you'll be okay.”

–

–

“Ten and a half,” Sal says, dropping onto Tommy's couch.

“What?” Tommy asks from where he's trying to get a pebble out of the tread of his boots.

“His ring size. Ten and a half, maybe eleven.” He puts his socked feet up on the coffee table and shrugs. “I'd go with eleven, it's easier to size down.”

The knife he's using slips and almost slices across Tommy's hand. “What? How—how?”

Sal smirks. “I have my ways.”

Tommy drops the boot and sits back on his heels with a heavy sigh. “Okay. So—I’m doing this. Am I really doing this? It feels soon, right?”

“Couldn't tell you. But from where I'm sitting,” he says, sweeping his hand across to gesture at the living room or maybe the house or just Tommy's entire life, “you two built something together. Just keep building. We don't usually get to live too long—if it's not a fire, it's a building falling on you or a bolt of lightning or cancer. And you're already middle-aged, Maso. You got your boy, he's not going anywhere. Just put it on paper.”

“You're right.” Tommy stands and shakes out the tingling that’s settling into his hands. “Thanks.”

“‘S why I’m here,” Sal says, crossing his arms over his chest. “And the free booze.”

Tommy snorts. “You thought it was free? Buddy, your tab’s been running for years. I’ll finally be able to pay off the mortgage when you settle up.”

Sal looks offended at that. “Hey, just for that, find a new best man.”

“I didn’t ask,” Tommy points out.

“Who the hell else you gonna ask?” Sal shoots back, getting to his feet. “Your other best friend?”

Sal comes around the table and engulfs him in a tight, back-slapping hug, which just turns into a hug.

“Thanks again,” Tommy says as they pull apart.

“Love you, brother,” he says, holding his face and pressing a smacking kiss to his cheek. He reminds Tommy of his Prozio Aldo so much sometimes, especially when he does shit like that. “Let’s go cut down a tree.”

“We’re just trimming it,” Tommy reminds him.

“Uh-huh.” Sal steps around him to grab his boots and starts walking toward the back of the house. “You say that now, but wait ‘til I get a few more in me. You’ll be lucky to have a yard by the time I’m done.”

–

He’s pacing outside the station until he hears Maddie call his name, and he whirls around to see her approaching with a tray of something. They’re doing a late holiday potluck, having passed Christmas and New Year’s, and Tommy had made sure she would be coming.

“Hey!” he says, folding her into a side-hug before taking the tray from her. “Can we, uh, hang out here for a second? Just waiting for Bobby and Athena.”

Maddie’s brows pinch together for a moment. “Sure. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, realizing he probably looks like he’s going to pass out. “Yeah, I promise.”

Bobby steps around the corner, glancing over his shoulder, Athena close behind. “Hey. Sorry, kid’s trying to get my damn dry rub recipe again and keeps cornering me. What’s going on?”

Tommy looks between their expectant faces and wants to dive head-first into whatever Maddie’s brought, which smells like it could be something with apples and brown sugar. “I wanted to ask you guys something. I kind of thought maybe Howie should be here, but he can’t keep a secret at all.”

“He can’t,” the three agree in unison.

He exhales slowly, realizing he’s been barely breathing for the last few minutes. “I wanted to ask you guys something—”

“You already said that,” Bobby points out, and Athena elbows him.

“I know it’s old-fashioned,” he admits. “And kind of backwards, because it’s really his decision, not yours, but you guys are his family. But I am kind of old-fashioned, I guess.”

“Tommy,” Athena says firmly, catching his eye. “Ask us.”

He swallows and looks at the tray and then back at them. “Can I maybe have your blessing to—to ask Evan to marry me?”

Maddie’s hands go to her mouth as she lets out a gasp, and Bobby’s looking at him with a wide, knowing smile. Athena looks proud, probably having sussed him out the second he walked into the station earlier.

“Yes!” Maddie squeals, hugging him around his middle and almost upending the tray. “Yes, absolutely a yes.”

“Yeah,” Bobby agrees, and Athena nods.

“What’d you think we were gonna say?” she asks, and Tommy shrugs helplessly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks, letting Maddie take the tray back from him.

“Oh, absolutely,” Bobby says, pulling him into a hug. “I think you’ll be fine.”

–

–

It’s been almost a year since they got back together. Buck doesn’t want to do anything too big, because then too many things can go wrong and there’s all the added pressure. He’s heard horror stories from people who got proposed to in big, public settings who felt obligated to say yes. He won’t do that to Tommy. Tommy melts under romantic gestures, but actually important moments tend to be smaller and quieter. They’d gotten back together in the privacy of a cockpit, they’d agreed to move in together while they were wrapped up in each other on a picnic blanket, they’d talked about marriage and kids in the privacy of their own house and cars and in corners at parties. He’s got no problem screaming how much he loves Tommy from the rooftops, but some stuff is theirs.

He asks Tommy if he wants anything particular for dinner, and Tommy surprises him by saying Miceli’s.

“You really want to risk it?” Buck teases.

“Hey, I like their food,” Tommy protests.

Buck nods. “It’s good. Good enough to risk us breaking up a third time, though?”

Tommy crowds him up against the bathroom counter and wraps an arm around his waist. “You really think I’d let you go again?”

The casual possessiveness does things to Buck, and he shakes his head, swallowing hard as his eyes flick down to Tommy’s lips. “Seven?”

“Six,” Tommy says, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his throat. “I want to get home early.”

Buck shivers, and then he’s leaning against the bathroom counter alone.

“See you tonight, sweetheart.”

He licks his lips and nods. “See you. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Tommy replies, swooping back in for a quick kiss that turns into a long kiss until Tommy pulls his head back with a gasp. “Eddie’s gonna kill me if I flake on him.”

Buck finally releases his boyfriend and waits for him to leave their room and then listens for the sound of the garage door opening. When he’s sure he’s alone in the house, he goes to his duffel bag and digs down until he comes up with a drawstring bag containing a ring box.

“Alright, don’t Buck this up,” he mutters, kissing the box and shoving it in his pocket.

–

–

Tommy is going to have a fucking heart attack. He feels like he needs Valium on an IV drip. He and Eddie are skipping basketball so he can pick up the ring, because Tommy had been too nervous to keep it anywhere Evan could find it.

When he finally has the small bag in his hands, he climbs into Eddie’s truck and has to do box breathing so he won’t pass out.

“Dude, you flew into a hurricane,” Eddie reminds him.

“Uh-huh.”

“People used to shoot at you.”

“Yep.”

Eddie looks at the bag and then at Tommy’s face. “I mean, I get it, but maybe you should chill for a bit before we go to the next stop.”

They’re getting Tommy a new suit, because he has two, and one of them was worn to a cowboy’s funeral and the other one was worn to Maddie and Howie’s reception/anniversary party. Evan’s seen him in both of them, he needs a new one. He’s picked that out also and had to get it altered, because he always has to get suits altered or they hang on him weird.

“No, we gotta go,” Tommy says, trying to relax. “Let’s go.”

–

–

Tommy looks good. Tommy always looks good, but Buck loves seeing him in a suit. He’d loved getting him out of the last one he saw him in, he’s definitely going to love getting him out of this one. It’s simple—black jacket, trousers, and tie with a white shirt—but it’s form-fitting and makes him look like James Bond. He’s glad they’d joked about dressing like they were going to a Michelin-star restaurant, because this is a good look for Tommy.

Buck’s skipped the tie, going for a burgundy suit with a white shirt that Hen had helped him pick out. The shirt has a high collar with no lapels that he’s never worn before and doesn’t use a tie, but it’s also a little tight. Buck hopes he doesn’t somehow stop breathing. Wouldn’t be the first time on a date, and it would suck if it happened on this particular one.

“Look at you,” Tommy murmurs, slipping his arm around Buck’s waist under his suit jacket. “Wanna stay in and fool around instead?”

“Not a chance,” Buck teases, drawing Tommy into a toe-curling kiss. “I wanna show you off.”

–

They Uber to the restaurant, since Buck is too nervous to drive and Tommy says he didn’t get enough sleep. They also want to drink a bit, though Buck’s going to take it slow until he has something to celebrate or needs to soften a rejection.

Their table is a little toward the back, and it’s quiet near them with no one immediately nearby. It’s perfect.

They make it through most of a pitcher of beer and their entrees, and Buck starts to feel like it all might come back up. He taps rhythmically against his knee to ground himself and keep himself from just bursting out everything he’s thinking.

“Hey,” he says, and Tommy looks up from the dessert menu, as though he doesn’t already have it memorized, “so I’ve been thinking about some stuff. Nothing bad, I promise. It’s, uh, good, actually? I think. I hope.”

Tommy sets the menu down and looks pleasantly confused. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great,” he says, grinning and leaning in a bit, drawn to Tommy always. “I’ve just—there’s so much stuff in our lives that’s unpredictable, you know? Especially with what we do. We talked about this a while ago, I don’t know if you remember? The whole ‘safe haven’ thing.”

“Of course I remember,” Tommy says, smiling and reaching across to take Buck’s hand.

“Good,” Buck says, turning his hand over and wrapping his fingers around Tommy’s. “I’ve thought about it a lot. You’re this steadying force in my life, this thing I’ve been looking for since I can remember. Most of my days are unpredictable, some of them are terrible, and I have an eye in that storm and it’s you. You give me peace and love and comfort. You’re the calm and the safety that I’ve been looking for every single day of my life.”

Tommy’s face softens. “Evan, you’re that for me, too. You’re more than I ever knew to look for. God, I couldn’t have dreamed I’d ever meet someone like you, let alone be lucky enough to love you and be loved by you.”

Buck’s heart starts racing in his chest, because it’s time, and he pushes his chair back so he can get up and come around to Tommy, who looks thrown.

–

–

Evan is standing next to him and Tommy wants to grab him and put him back on his chair, but when he starts to rise, Evan’s hand presses on his shoulder.

“Just—I don’t know what else to say here,” Evan says, reaching into his pocket and lowering himself onto one knee. “I just want to know if you’ll marry me, Tommy.”

That—that’s his line.

Tommy feels like the air’s been vacuumed out of his lungs, and he doesn’t think he has hands anymore. Or feet. The top half of his head might be gone, too.

“Oh–I—oh,” he gasps when Evan opens the ring box he’s holding. His hands are shaking when he does it. “I—Evan.”

He pushes his chair back and reaches into the pocket of his own trousers before kneeling in the cramped space between this side of the table and the wall. Evan’s eyes are teary and a little confused, and then Tommy holds up his own box, opening it to reveal the ring.

“Will you marry me?” he asks, and Evan’s face crumples before he claps his free hand over his mouth to hold back a noise Tommy’s never heard him make. It’s like a laugh, a cry, and a sob all at once. Tommy's own eyes start to flood with tears even though he's also laughing, because this is ridiculous.

They grasp each other’s faces and laugh and kiss, and then they’re hugging. There’s noise near them—clapping?—and Tommy presses his nose to Evan’s jaw.

“That was a ‘yes,’ by the way,” he whispers, and Evan laughs against his shoulder.

–

–

He didn’t know. He’d been so focused on his own anxiety that he hadn’t noticed Tommy’s. But there’s a ring on Buck’s finger, and he can’t stop staring at it or the one on Tommy’s.

“How’d you get my ring size?” Tommy asks.

“Sal,” Buck replies, and Tommy laughs. “What?”

“That’s how I got yours.”

Buck remembers Sal asking him, hadn’t thought much of it because it was relevant to the conversation, and laughs. “God, he’s going to be—”

“Insufferable.”

“—the worst,” Buck agrees.

Tommy brushes his thumb over Buck’s ring and smiles. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked your sister, Bobby, and Athena for their blessing. I asked Howie earlier this week.”

Buck bites his lip and leans in to prop his chin on his free hand. “I asked Bobby if it was unethical to get you drunk so I could measure your finger.”

“It is,” Tommy says, rolling his eyes when Buck shrugs. “But—so everyone knew?”

“Yep.”

“And they still let us—”

“Yep.”

Tommy huffs out a laugh. “Bastards.”

Buck tugs his hand close so he can kiss his knuckles. “Let’s go home.”

Their server appears a few moments later when Tommy flags her down, and she places a bag on the table with a smile.

“Your desserts—packaged to go and on the house. There’s some extras in there, too,” she says, stepping back. “And your dinner was paid for by another patron. Have a great night, guys, and congratulations.”

Someone had already sent them a video and someone else sent photos via AirDrop, and Buck twists around to see if he can figure out who paid. The people who had sent the pictures and video were gone. No one else is paying them any particular attention.

It’s outside, they’re standing in the same spots they had almost two years before, but Buck has his arms around Tommy’s waist this time. This time, they have rings on their fingers, and they’re getting into the same car and going to their home. Where he imagines they’ll have intense celebratory sex followed by celebratory desserts eaten out of take-out containers while they drape themselves over their couch in their underwear.

“C’mere,” Tommy says, holding up his phone.

Buck smiles for the photo, holding up his left hand alongside Tommy’s.

–

–

In the Uber, Tommy sends the photo to the ‘Fire Family’ group chat with the message: We said yes!

There’s a flurry of emojis and congratulatory messages and questions about when the wedding is. He turns the screen off on his phone and links his hand with his fiancé’s on the middle seat.

“Think we can plan a wedding in under a year?” he asks.

Evan scoffs. “Give me a clipboard and a budget, we’ll be married in six months.”

Tommy smiles and leans over to kiss his cheek. “The sooner the better.”

“In a rush?” Evan teases, smiling at him in the dim light.

“To spend the rest of my life as your husband? A little. Kind of wish I could’ve done it a long time ago. Like, years ago, even though I didn’t know you then,” he admits, and Evan smiles, making a soft noise. “Hm?”

“Something Hen said,” Evan says, shaking his head. “‘You’ll go to bed and wake up every day wishing you’d found each other sooner. ‘Cause life is so damn good that everything before him felt like wasted time.’”

Tommy’s heart slams against his sternum. “Yeah.”

Evan lifts their hands to kiss the back of Tommy’s, tucking it against his cheek. “She said that, and I knew I was going to marry you. I didn’t hope I’d do it or think I’d do it. I knew.”

“I was sitting in a park and had just asked you to move in with me, and I knew I’d have eloped with you that day if you asked.”

“So about three weeks after I talked to Hen.” Evan chuckles and turns his head to kiss his hand again before lowering their hands back onto the seat. “You ever think we’re meant to be sometimes?”

“Sometimes,” Tommy agrees lightly, and it’s his turn to kiss Evan’s hand, his lips landing right next to his ring.

[witherby]

I think a really cool day idea for Conner and mouse would be like the circus scene from Teen Titans were Robin let Starfire try some cotton candy and it’s really cute 



I remember that scene!!! Robin's absolutely lovesick expression was so romantic to me, even back then.

I didn't replicate that one-for-one, but they're certainly at a carnival! I hope you like it!

The Littlest Wayne: Carnival

(features: established relationship, Conner Kent x gn!Reader, fluff, discussions of structures that aren't OSHA compliant, kissing)

Masterlist is Here!

"That doesn't look safe."

"None of these rides really are," you admit, queueing into the line to ride the Wave Swinger with your boyfriend. "Pop-up carnivals are designed in such a way that they can be thrown up and taken down within a day or two. You can't really afford to bolt anything down because it isn't going to be there in a week."

Conner looks at you with incredulity. He looks like he's trying not to pout, which is adorable. You barely refrain from kissing him.

"Then why are we lining up to get on one?"

"S'part of the vibe," you explain, lifting your hands for emphasis. One of them is interlaced with your boyfriend's, so his arm gets swung around, too. "You don't really go to these things to walk around and then leave again. You gotta ride a ride while wondering in the back of your mind if this is how it ends. You gotta spend way too much money playing a rigged game to win a prize that wasn't worth even a third of what you spent to earn it. You gotta eat a bunch of deep-fried foods that shouldn't be deep-fried and feel incredibly nauseated for the next two days about it. That's the real Carnival Experience™."

"This doesn't sound fun, M," Conner says. "I can take you on a flight and pretend to drop you a couple times. I can ask you for an absurd amount of money and not pay it back for like a week. I can cook you dinner and narrowly avoid giving you food poisoning. We don't have to be here."

"Trust me, it wouldn't be the same," you insist, moving up in the line. This swing ride is one of your favorites, next to The Whip, but you haven't seen one of those in a few years. "It's also the atmosphere. You're surrounded by fun, neon colors and happy strangers and screaming children — it's all part of the experience."

"Yeah..." Conner grimaces, gaze a little distant. "I could do without the screaming children."

"Oh, right," you frown, digging out a specialized pair of earbuds from your pocket and offering them to him. They help muffle out extra sensitive sounds for him, like breathing and footsteps and other people's heartbeats, so he can better control what noise he chooses to perceive. "Here."

Conner takes them, briefly letting go of your hand to put them in, then un-tenses his shoulders and offers you a thin smile.

"That's better," he admits, "but I still think getting on rides knowing they aren't bolted down properly is stupid."

"Welcome to the carnival," you grin. You both shuffle forward in the line, close enough now that you'll be able to get on next round. "You're gonna love this."

"I can fly, M. I don't think I'm gonna care."

Then it turns out he cares. He cares a lot. He actually cares so much. When you and Conner get strapped into your seats, he's white knuckling the chains keeping his chair suspended off the ground.

"You're joking. There's one little bike chain keeping me in this chair and there's a single hook on top holding me up. You're actually joking."

You start spinning and twisting around in your own chair, gleeful. "Isn't it great?"

"No??"

"Alrighty riders. Please refrain from bouncing, spinning, twisting, or yanking on the chains. When the ride is in motion do not grab onto other riders' chairs. Keep the strap secure across your waist while the ride is in motion, and do not attempt to remove it until it comes to a complete stop again. Enjoy."

Conner flinches when the chairs lift into the air. He watches the ground get pulled out from under him, shitty carnival music starting to come out of the speakers while the lights on the ride start flashing. If he weren't invulnerable, he'd be losing his mind right now. How are you able to enjoy such risky activities!? Are you insane!? Actually — you're the one civilian child to a family of crime fighting vigilantes. Of course you're insane.

He looks up to make another comment, but the words quickly die in his throat. Because you look stunning.

You look great all the time, of course. Conner loves to look at you, and you know that. But as the ride starts to spin and your chair starts swaying with the wind, you throw your head back and laugh. You spread your arms out to your sides and kick your feet, eyes closed and hair fanned out.

You're practically ethereal when you're having fun. Conner watches the colorful lights dance over your skin and feels himself falling even more in love with you than he already is. He never wants the ride to end, if it means he gets to see you like this forever.

Using the trick Clark taught him, he speeds himself up to slow the world down, giving himself more time to admire you. To you, it's just a couple minutes in the air, but to him it's hours of unbridled admiration. When you're finally lowered to the ground again, he's unlatched himself from his seat and come around to kiss you.

"Let's go find another ride," he mumbles against your lips. You smirk, victorious, and grab his hand. He's utterly helpless to do anything but trail after you.

"Knew you'd come around. It's the Carnival Experience, babe; it pulls everyone in! Never should've doubted me."

"Yeah..." He says, smiling like a lovesick idiot. It's definitely the rides and games and people making him feel this good, and not the echo of your happy heartbeat or the image of your carefree smile under the neon lights burned into his memory. "Shouldn't have doubted you."

[adrienneleclerc]

Hi I was the one requested the two Lewis Hamilton imagine and the Carlos sainz imagine and I was also the one who sent you the message about the Daniel Ricardo imagine and I have one more request you can take your time on this one I really don't care but another Lewis Hamilton imagine well I don't know Lewis's walking in a park or somewhere and he finds a straight dog or puppy or whatever and he takes it to the closest vet in the reader is a veterinarian and yeah whenever you want to do from there it's all up to you so yeah

🥰🫶🇲🇽

Oh that sounds nice, Lewis is definitely the type to do right by a stray dog

Puppy Love

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Vet!Reader

Summary: while playing fetch with Roscoe at the park, he finds an abandoned dog and takes him to the nearest vet office and crushes on the pretty vet attending the dog

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: i think I just successfully convinced my mom that we should go to Monaco for vacation 🫢. Well, we are going to Nice, France and then take a bus to Monaco so I can see the Prince’s car collection. Maybe I’ll post pictures here

Lewis decided to bring Roscoe with him to New York and being the good dog owner he is, he took Roscoe out to the park in the morning, bringing a frisbee to play fetch with.

“Alright, buddy, you ready to play fetch?” Lewis asked and Roscoe barked in agreement, wiggling his butt. “Go long, boy!” Lewis says as he tossed the frisbee, Roscoe being a good boy and ran as fast as he could to get the frisbee. However, the frisbee landed in front of another dog, making Roscoe bark.

Lewis was alerted by the usually calm dog’s bark and rushed over to see what Roscoe had seen and right before his eyes, there was a Pekingnese puppy just under a year, shivering, covered in mud.

“Hi buddy.” Lewis cooed at the puppy, trying to appear as approachable as possible. It seems to work because the puppy started inching towards him. “There you go, a little bit closer, little guy.” Lewis said until the puppy because close enough so he could carry him. The little puppy leaned into his embrace. “Cold little bugger, aren’t you? Alright, let’s go see if you’re chipped, alright? Come on, Roscoe.” Lewis said, putting Roscoe’s leash back on.

Since the puppy didn’t have a collar, he couldn’t use Roscoe’s extra leash to walk him. He was walking Roscoe while carrying the puppy in his arms and walked until they reached an animal clinic. Lewis walked in and went straight up to the front desk.

“Alright, please sign in and we’ll get to you shortly.” The receptionist said and Lewis did just that. Everything was fine until the puppy started howling in his arms.

“What’s wrong, fella?” Lewis asked the puppy, inspecting him. “Shit, he has something in his paw. Can you see him, please? He’s only a puppy and I just found him in the street.”

“Alright, come on in and wait for the vet to see you.” The receptionist said and Lewis walked in with Roscoe. When Lewis placed the puppy on the table, that’s when he realized the puppy had a slight limp. He hadn’t noticed because of how long the puppy’s fur was. Lewis was comforting the puppy when he heard the door open.

“Okay, Lewis Hamilton?” The vet said.

“Hi, yes, that’s me. Lewis said nervously.

“I’m Y/N, I’ll be your vet today. What brings in this little cutie, today?” You said petting the puppy.

“Um i was in the dog park with my bulldog and we found him. He didn’t have a collar, I brought him in to see if he was chipped but apparently he has a limp as well.” Lewis said.

“Right, I’ll just take his vitals before checking if there is a chip to see if there are signs of malnourishment considering the conditions you found him in.” You said, putting on your stethoscope to listen to the puppy. The puppy whimpered but you managed to calm him down enough so he would stay still. “His vitals are fine, feels a bit underweight, you can’t tell under that fur but I’ll weigh him shortly. I’ll bring in the scanner to check if there is a chip.”

You walked out and Lewis was thinking about how beautiful you were. Young too, thinking you were in your late twenties to early thirties. Lewis was comforting Roscoe who seemed just as nervous as the puppy. You then came back with the scanner and waved it over the puppy,

“Huh, this poor guy doesn’t seemed chipped. Buts that’s okay little fella, I’m sure this nice man over here will take you in.” You cooed as the puppy, making him was his tail as you looked at Lewis with puppy dog eyes, tryna guilt him into owning another dog.

“I’m not sure if I can…” Lewis started.

“Dude, you’re an F1 driver, you seem to be taking care of Roscoe perfectly fine, what’s one more dog? Plus, who knows how the shelter will be, he could get adopted by some bad people.” You tried to convince him

“I Don’t think that’s very professional of you.” Lewis teased.

“May not be, but at least I’d know he’ll be going to a good home.” You said. “Just think about it, I have to go weigh the fella. Let’s go, baby.” You said, carrying the puppy outside the room to weight him. Roscoe just stared up at Lewis, who was also guilting him.

“Not you too.” Lewis whined, making Roscoe huff. “Alright, fine, I’ll bring him in.” You then came back in the room.

“Good news, he’s only like 3 pounds underweight, should be an easy fix, he just doesn’t eat as much as he should. His limp a,so appears to be a sprain, I’ll give you some pain medication for him, along with some supplements that should improve his joint health. Now, what are you going to name this beautiful baby boy?” You asked.

“You’re laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” Lewis asked.

“I’m trying to get him adopted by you so yeah.” You said.

“I’m going to name him Miracle.” Lewis said, petting the newly named puppy.

“Okay, Miracle Hamilton it is. I’ll get everything prepared you, okay?” You said before walking out. Lewis carried Miracle and grappled Roscoe’s leash to wait in the waiting room for you. “Okay, here’s the medication and a list of supplements that I recommend you should buy…along with my number.”

“Your number? Are you flirting with me, Y/N?” Lewis asked with a flirty smile.

“I am, this way you can call me if you need with Miracle or if you just want to talk. Up to you, of course.” You told him.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you, have a great day, guys.” Lewis said, walking out with his old friend and new puppy. He started buying puppy food for Miracle’s breed, a few toys, a leash, collar, everything a new dog needs.

When Lewis made it to the apartment, he let Miracle and Roscoe get acquainted while he stares at your number. After having the two dogs stare at him, he caved. “Hey, Y/N, It’s me, Lewis, I don’t have to be in Maranello for another 2 weeks, you want to go out Friday night?” Lewis asked.

“I would love to.” You said, Lewis could hear the smile on your face and that made him smile as well.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Sorry I’ve been inactive

[flowerandblood]

The Song of Promises [1/3]

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: loss of virginity (both characters), sex content, unprotected sex, oral sex, targcest stuff, smut, angst, abduction, description of eye loss, mourning, child abuse, Aemond being a self-absorbed, vain guy ]

[ description: Aemond's childhood is filled with loneliness and regret until Daemon arrives in the Red Keep with his first-born child, daughter of Rhea Royce. The fact that neither of them has a dragon of their own binds them together with a thread of understanding, and their slowly developing relationship gives birth in the young prince's mind to a plan of which she is a part. Slow burn, childhood companions to lovers, first intimacy, rude, insolent, arrogant Aemond with big ego. ]

This is story that describes the events of what would have happened if Aemond had met Daemon's daughter earlier (i.e. as a child). The characters are exactly the same as in the original The Price of Pride, but still, this is a standalone story that can be read separately: you don't need to know that story to read this one.

I have tried to show how the need for closeness matures in adolescents as they get older until they fully understand what they want and how to achieve it. Decide for yourself what happened between them when and at what age so that you feel comfortable with it (let's agree that the ages from the books and the series do not apply here, because at the end of the chapter we are still before Helaena and Aegon's wedding: everyone is simply older than in the source material, decide for yourself by how many years).

A big inspiration for me to wrtie this story was my relationship with my husband (everything was going very slowly for us and each new base was an achievement and a great event). That said, this story you will read alternately from two perspectives (not the same events tho).

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Aemond

That night he slept exceptionally badly: he wriggled in his bed for a long time, struggling to hold back tears of anger, thinking of what Aegon and his nephews had done to him. His older brother was spiteful by nature, but until now he had believed that they would support each another in the presence of the Strongs.

He was mistaken.

The pig with wings he had been given by them – according to Aegon's assurances, as a consolation prize – was eye-watering proof of the humiliation he had suffered at his hands for years. The way they all laughed out loud while he stood completely petrified with shame and the fact that they considered it amusing made his whole body begin to shake.

He wished the sun would never rise again.

When he woke up the next day, his meal was served as usual: to his delight, his mother, although she did not usually allow it, ordered his favourite sweet cinnamon rolls to be brought to him. While he still felt miserable, eating them made his spirits lighter, as the pleasant thought went through his head that his mother loved him.

During the sparring, Aegon acted as if he had forgotten what he had done to him the day before: he said something to him and laughed, as if he expected him to feel like replying to him after the humiliation he had suffered at his hands.

His silence, unfortunately, was not met with understanding from his brother either.

“Must you always be such a twat?” Aegon asked.

Again he did not answer, pressing his lips into a thin line with rage, and hit one of the targets with all his strength with a wooden sword.

He did not utter words that Aegon or his nephews could use against him.

He thought he would never give them a reason to mock him again.

Silence was safe.

However, he was snapped out of his reverie by the voice of Jace, who had been speaking to Luke during one of their short breaks.

“Mother said they would be arriving today. Daemon and his firstborn daughter. He killed her mother.” His nephew spoke in a whisper, clearly excited, but he stood close enough to understand what he said.

Daemon's firstborn daughter.

It was true that he had heard of her and knew that she existed, however, her person did not particularly concern him: she had no dragon and she was a girl, so she did not threaten him in any way, yet she also had nothing that would make him find the subject of her arrival interesting.

Or at least that's what he tried to tell himself, as he involuntarily strained his hearing, standing with his back to them, pretending to stretch before his next routine, paying no attention to the fact that Criston Cole was shouting something to him and Aegon.

“He killed her mother?” Squealed Luke, and Jace shushed him and tapped him on the head, clearly wanting his little brother to be quiet.

“It's gossip. Mother says we have to be kind to her. She won't have here anyone but us.” Jace explained to him.

Although he kept telling himself that he didn't care about some pathetic little girl without a dragon, the next morning he sat with his face pressed against the window, waiting for them to arrive.

He didn't know what he was actually waiting for: Daemon had always seemed intriguing to him. His uncle was confident and ironic, on top of which there was no one, except perhaps Ser Criston, who could match him in wielding a sword.

Deep down he admired him and the possibility of seeing him again thrilled him.

He twisted in his seat, rising higher on his arms as the gates to the courtyard opened and indeed, he saw his uncle on a white horse and a little girl with long, dark hair sitting before him in the saddle.

He snorted at the thought that, like his nephews, the gods had not bestowed upon her the Targaryen colour that he wore proudly on his head.

However, she was a legitimate child and had certainly inherited the colour of her hair from her mother, so he felt that this was not reason to mock her.

After all, his mother also had dark hair, and he held her in high regard and respect.

Daemon jumped off his mount lightly, then grabbed his daughter under the arms and helped her down, without waiting for the servant to run up to them.

He saw that she had started to look around – he thought that she was certainly enthralled and overwhelmed by the beauty and grandeur of the Red Keep, but when she turned her face towards him he recognised that her facial expression was more one of uncertainty and fear.

She will have no one here but us.

He killed her mother.

For some reason, for a moment, but only a moment, he felt pity for her.

Although she was not a princess or anyone special, news of her arrival and the reason for it had spread through the fortress very quickly; he usually preferred to stay in his chamber or in the library, but on this day he had left his safe places to stroll the corridors and the castle, hoping to see her.

He wanted to judge her carefully in his mind: he had formed an opinion about everyone, and she could not remain an exception.

A sting of disappointment spread across his chest when, to his displeasure, he did not see her until the next day during sparring, in the company of Jace and Luke. They spoke to her, gesturing vividly, apparently showing her everything they could, she, however, simply looked at them with big eyes, terrified, and said nothing, looking where they told her to.

“My Princes. Come over here. Let's begin.” Criston Cole called out towards them, clearly impatient.

He grinned under his breath with satisfaction, feeling a pleasant pride at the thought that Ser Criston preferred them to the Strongs and was clearly showing it.

Jace and Luke stepped closer, and Daemon's daughter approached with them, her eyes wide, her small hands clenched into fists from anxiety.

Looking at her closely, he decided she was not ugly: her face seemed pleasant to him, her eyelashes and eyebrows long and dark, accentuating her skin tone in some interesing way. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, as were her lips: she was a little shorter than Jace, but like them, she was dressed in a training garment.

“Our cousin used to practise archery in Runestone. We thought she could do it here too.” Luke said.

Cole straightened up and sighed, clearly frustrated.

“Consent would have to be given by Prince Daemon himself. I cannot make that decision alone.” He replied matter-of-factly, causing the girl to lower her head, disappointed.

Jace, however, was not giving up.

“Then we'll ask him.” He said with vigour, glancing at his cousin, who shook her head.

“I don't know where he is. I can't find him anywhere.” She muttered.

“Prince Daemon, from the information I have, set off to Essos before dawn. Without his permission, I cannot take responsibility for your safety, my Lady.” Ser Criston explained, already a little softer.

An uncomfortable silence fell around them, one he'd experienced for the first time in his life: it wasn't filled with irritation or rage, but with the fact that it seemed to him that neither of them knew how to act in such a situation.

Usually when Jace or Luke didn't know or couldn't do something, it was a source of pride and mockery for him and Aegon: their nephews reacted similarly to failures on their side.

However, he didn't know what he should feel or think upon hearing that a little girl didn't know that her father was now with his second family.

He looked at her to witness her reaction and felt a strange squeeze in his throat seeing that she obviously did not know about it – her lips were slightly parted in disbelief, her gaze wandering from one person to the next, as if she felt humiliated and abandoned, left alone in a place foreign and frightening to her.

“With your permission, I will return to my chamber.” She mumbled and bowed, only to turn and move towards the cloisters, disappearing into one of the corridors.

“Did you see that? She is crying like a little baby. Would you like to join her, brother? You two fit together.” Said Aegon and patted him on the shoulder, making his cheeks flush scarlet with shame.

“That's enough.” Cole said. “Get back to practising.”

Although he occupied his head with various activities for the rest of the day – mostly reading books on Westeros history – his thoughts kept returning to her face then, when she found out her father was gone.

She wasn't as annoying and provocative as Jace and Luke, of that he was sure – nor had she inherited Daemon's aggressive manner, at least not in the way he'd expected. As much as he wanted to assign her to the Black party, as Daemon had always supported Rhaenyra, he wasn't sure she was even aware of the division between them and that she had to choose.

She was thrown between strange walls and strange people, left alone.

Even for him, it was quite cruel.

But it was not his concern, he consoled himself in spirit, trying to start a chapter concerning Winterfell.

For the first time in a long time, he looked forward to the supper with excitement: he knew that his father-king would surely invite his niece to it and say a few warm words to make her feel at home.

He hoped she would be seated close to them and not next to the Strongs.

She shouldn't spend time with the bastards, but he didn't blame her for doing so – he guessed that she simply didn't know who they really were.

Perhaps I should tell her about it, he told himself in spirit sitting down at the table in his seat, recognising that, in fact, he would be doing her a favour by doing so.

Indeed, there was one more chair placed at the table than usual. His cousin walked into the chamber, accompanied by his mother and sister. Helaena was saying something to her, and Daemon's daughter was smiling, looking down at her feet, apparently trying not to fall over in her long, brown gown.

Once again he felt a sense of pride, for it was his sister and not his nephews who had made their guest feel better.

To his satisfaction, which, however, he did not give expression to, trying to keep a stony face, his cousin took a seat next to his sister, that is, opposite him and Aegon. When she looked in his direction he did not leave her gaze for a moment – however, when she smiled, he turned his face away, feeling embarrassed.

He felt a sense of distinction because she had paid attention to him.

No one ever did that, because he was a second son without a dragon.

But she didn't have a dragon either, he consoled himself in his mind, and for some reason he felt relieved.

They were alike.

As he expected, his father greeted her in the presence of everyone, apparently wanting to give her courage.

“As I'm certain you all know by now, we have a guest. It is my brother's daughter, whom I welcome with great joy and love. From now on, the Red Keep will be her home and I ask you to treat her with kindness and understanding. A strange place, even more so for a little girl, can seem frightening. I trust each of you to care for her as best you can.” He said, then nodded and allowed everyone to begin their meal.

One more interaction occurred between them that evening: when he tried to reach for a pate that was too far away from him, she helped him by handing him a platter. She smiled at him again then, and he reciprocated the gesture awkwardly, feeling that for some reason his palms had started to sweat.

His king had said they should be kind to her, so he simply followed his order as any good son would do, he assured himself in his head.

Then Jace suddenly spoke up.

“My King. Our cousin is an excellent archer and we think she should be able to practice with us in the Red Keep as well. Ser Criston said that without her father's permission this is not possible. Wouldn't the King's order be more significant?” He asked, and all eyes fled towards his father.

“Little girls shouldn't be involved in such things.” Said Queen Alicent, taking a sip of wine, for some reason casting a long look at Rheanyra, sitting across the table.

“Why?” His half-sister asked. “Are all women in this world the same?”

His father decided to put an end to this brief argument by giving his own opinion on the matter.

Viserys decided that she could practise archery during their sparring, if it didn't interfere with their training.

She usually stood on the side and shot her bow at targets standing in a completely different part of the courtyard, so everyone quickly forgot about the dispute and stopped paying attention to her.

Or at least that's what he tried to convince himself.

He often looked at her, because when their gazes met, she usually smiled.

It was a warm smile, devoid of prejudice or malice: he did not usually reciprocate the gesture, fearing that Aegon would see it and find another reason to mock him.

She spoke to Jace and Luke, also occasionally smiling in their presence, but when she did so while looking at him, she looked different.

Perhaps it was just his childhood desire to be special to someone, to be noticed, that made him live in the belief that his cousin wanted to know him better.

He craved it too: confirmation of his suspicions, of the fact that, indeed, he had caught her attention. The reason, after all, could have been any feature of his personality that no one had noticed before: his intelligence, his knowledge, his rhetoric, his calmness and composure, how different he was from his brother and nephews.

His pride, however, prevented him from taking the first step: he knew that if anyone found out he was seeking her company, his brother would again call him a twat and say that he liked to play with girls because he was one himself.

That left him internally torn.

The opportunity fell upon him like a thunderbolt from a clear sky when one afternoon, as always eager to search the library for more reading for the dull, monotonous evenings, he saw Daemon and his daughter sitting at the table, bent over a thick, old volume that he knew intimately.

High Valyrian.

His cousin lifted her head upon hearing someone enter the room and bestowed upon him a broad, soft smile – Daemon's expression was not as friendly and expressed boredom.

To his relief, she spoke up first.

“My father is teaching me the language of our ancestors. Would you like to join us?” She asked, surprising both him and her father.

Daemon sighed, but did not protest, spreading out comfortably in his chair, giving him a look as if challenging him.

On the one hand, he was terrified and just wanted to run away, but on the other, this was his chance to get closer to both of them.

He nodded, embarrassed, feeling his hands involuntarily clench into fists.

The fear of humiliation was greater than the excitement.

“Sit down.” Daemon commanded.

No one had ever spoken to him this way, not even his own father; for some reason, however, it did not frustrate him, but made him feel even more respect for his uncle.

I want to be like you, he thought in the back of his mind.

Confident and fearless.

So he sat down on the other side, in the empty chair next to Daemon, and moved closer to the table – he was ashamed that his legs still didn't reach the ground, but he hoped it wasn't apparent yet.

Just a few more years and he would become a man.

He felt much more confident when he saw that they had just reworked a chapter he had already read before.

“Perzys zaldrīzī ossēnagon daor.” Said Daemon, glancing at his daughter expectantly, apparently wanting her to translate the sentence.

“Fire cannot…” She started, but fell silent, clearly not knowing what one of the words meant.

“Fire cannot kill a dragon.” He spoke up, proud to show his uncle how broad his knowledge was.

“Good.” Daemon said.

He swallowed quietly, glancing at his cousin: her downward gaze and her hunched figure told him that she was sad that he hadn't even given her time to think.

He decided that perhaps he shouldn't come out in front all the time, lest he come across as vain.

“Zaldrīzo ānogar.” Said her father – he stirred in his chair, excited, knowing exactly what it means and that it is a fairly simple, even obvious phrase.

Daemon did it so she could respond too.

“The dragon…” She muttered, incorrectly constructing the sentence syntax.

When she looked at him, his lips uttered quickly the soundless ‘blood of the dragon’. She drew in a loud breath, an expression of relief flashed across her face.

“N-no. Blood. Blood of the dragon.” She quickly changed the order of the words, and Daemon nodded, moving on.

He didn't know why he had helped her then, but he liked the way she looked at him from then on.

With curiosity and gratitude.

In secret from his mother, grandfather and brother, he would sneak off to the library to learn with his uncle and his daughter about what he had been studying with the Maester earlier. He didn't admit that he had a kind of advantage over her, but he would sometimes pretend that he didn't know something in order to give her the opportunity to prove herself to her father.

Daemon seemed to him the embodiment of everything he himself wanted to be. Unlike his father, who did not find the strength or time to teach him about the history of their lineage, his uncle shared it extensively with him and his daughter, seeming indifferent and matter-of-fact at the same time.

Daemon was a demanding teacher, but this made him turn on his natural desire to compete: his cousin, however, did not have as much knowledge as he did because she could not have it, so he did not treat her in the same way as Jace and Luke.

They did not speak with each other outside the library; sometimes she smiled at him, but he only reciprocated this expression when the others could not see it – the corner of his mouth then lifted slightly upwards in an attempt to present some pathetic caricature of cordiality.

He wanted to be liked and admired, but didn't know how to achieve it.

One day, to his surprise, his cousin visited him in his chamber when the sun had long since set – he was already lying in his bed while reading a book.

He didn't like anyone invading his private space, but he couldn't say that the sight of her made him uncomfortable either.

He remained silent, deciding to listen to what she had come to him with.

“Tomorrow I am leaving to Essos. My father wants me to meet my sisters and stepmother.” She muttered, lowering her gaze as she spoke the last sentence.

She didn't want to see her replacement.

He grunted quietly, fiddling with the page of the book he held in his hands, feeling some kind of regret and disappointment.

“I see.” He replied, not knowing what more he could add.

She, however, was still standing in the same place, as if expecting to hear something more from him.

“I want to thank you for... for helping me then. Before lessons with my father, I repeat everything he taught me, but when I sit next to him, I suddenly forget the words. My head is empty.” She choked out finally, making him involuntarily look at her, surprised.

He felt a pleasant wave of pride and self-satisfaction ripple deep into his chest.

He lifted his chin higher, wanting to look more mature and dignified.

“You're welcome.” He hummed, hoping to hear even more praise from her lips.

“Sleep well, cousin.” She said and turned away, leaving him once again with a cold feeling of disappointment.

He realised that he hadn't asked her when they were coming back.

As she and his uncle disappeared, he felt with redoubled intensity how invisible he was to the inhabitants of the Red Keep: or at least that was how he perceived it. Even if he had wanted to, he no longer had anyone to show his intellect and knowledge to, no smile waiting for him when he sat down to supper in the company of his loud nephews and his half-sister, whom he deeply despised.

He was the embodiment of all his father's dreams, he was the reason he opened the womb of his first wife while she was still alive: he was the son he was always waiting for.

But his father could hardly eat on his own, let alone pay attention to him or the other children Queen Alicent had given him.

“Pass me the porridge platter, sweet Aemma.” He said to her once, pointing his blue finger at the dish he was thinking of, causing everyone around him to freeze.

He felt some kind of constriction in his throat when he saw his mother swallow this humiliation with difficulty, reaching for the platter and handing it to her lord-husband without a word.

He lowered his gaze to his plate, trying not to think about it, realising that he would like to see her comforting smile again.

He was beginning to grow impatient.

It had, after all, been several weeks.

As always when something was bothering him, he went to the only person he truly trusted.

“When will uncle Daemon return?” He asked, feigning indifference, fiddling with one of the flacons of expensive oils that had belonged to his mother.

Alicent looked at him, sighing quietly, clearly tired and embittered, probably by what his father had done.

He didn't know how he was supposed to help her, so he remained silent.

“The longer he's gone, the better.” She replied, surprising him.

“Why?” He asked, and she sighed again.

“He's a dangerous, unpredictable man. I pity his daughter. He drags her around all the continents like an object.” She said with a kind of impatience that made him unsure if she really meant what she said.

Adult people often spoke in riddles, which frustrated him constantly.

He preferred it when someone was direct.

The conversation with his mother brought him neither answers nor relief; the only person who showed interest in him was far away, and he was once again learning High Valyrian alone.

That night he prayed to the gods to help him tame a dragon and for his cousin to return quickly to King's Landing, so that she would continue to be kind to him.

The gods listened to his requests, or at least some part of them.

After a few days, Daemon, his daughter from his first marriage, Baela, Rhaena and his wife, lady Laena, reached the Red Keep.

He came to see them because he hoped to see her.

Indeed, when he stepped into the chamber, where his mother, Rhaenyra and Helaena were also present, he spotted her at once, standing behind her father's back. She was looking at Daemon, as if hoping that he would turn his attention to her, but he did not – his uncle was looking at his brother, who was holding Baela hand in his.

His only child who had a dragon.

Although no word was spoken, he understood what had happened.

She had only regained her father for a moment and lost him again.

A pleasant shiver ran through him as she looked around the room, but her gaze stopped on him when she noticed him: he offered her a sad smile of comfort, and she reciprocated the gesture.

Although everyone at supper that evening was loud and chatty, she sat quietly, staring at her plate, immersed in her thoughts. He could see that she had not eaten much; her lips were tightly clenched, her gaze fled again and again to the silhouette of her father, who was talking aloud about the magnificent mansion they lived in Essos and their desire to stay there.

He felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach at the thought.

“Do you like insects?” He suddenly heard his sister's voice leaning over their cousin.

Her question seemed absurd and out of any context, but Daemon's daughter was clearly trying to focus and answer the question.

“I like butterflies. And bumblebees.” She said after some thought.

Helaena twisted in her seat, delighted, and invited her to come to her chamber later that evening so that she could see through her large collection of dried moths.

He sighed, trying to hide the unpleasant sting of jealousy that an object that raised his self-esteem had just been stolen from him.

He wanted her back for himself, so that she would say nice things to him.

He wanted her to admire him.

He wanted her to love him and cry for him with longing when they were separated.

He would never reciprocate this, of course, because these were tender, feminine concerns, but it would certainly satisfy his vanity.

He noticed, watching them from the sidelines, that a strong, cordial bond developed between her and his sister after that day: otherwise it would surely have caused his irritation, but at some point he began to see it as an opportunity.

The more she became attached to them and to the Red Keep, the more she would desire to stay with them.

To his surprise, Helaena too had begun to care that her new companion remained in King's Landing; she shrewdly tried to address the issue as they set off together to the Great Sept with their mother.

“I have no trusted lady of the court, Mother. I don't like the fact that they put things in different places than I want. They disturb my order and speak too loudly. She is kind. She always asks my opinion first before she touches me or my things. We embroider together and watch insects. I would like her to stay with me.”

Though his mother easily denied him and Aegon, to her only daughter she could not.

To his satisfaction, she turned to her lord-husband, and he convinced his younger brother that his daughter needed stability and a girl her own age as a companion.

Though reluctantly, Daemon agreed.

He couldn't say that everything had gone according to his plan: now his cousin was his sister's lady-in-waiting, spending a lot of time with her. This meant that she couldn't give him as much attention as he would have liked.

However, one day everything changed.

“Helaena said the Maester is teaching you High Valyrian. I was wondering if you could teach me too, as my father is not here anymore.” She mumbled, clearly fearing that her offer would not be attractive for him.

He sighed, pretending that her words made no impression on him.

“What can you give me in return?” He asked defiantly, though he knew he would have agreed even if she had not been able to give him anything.

“...and what would you like?” She answered question for question, staring up at him with her big eyes, playing with her fingers in a nervous reflex.

“You will obey all my orders without complaining.” He replied at last, feeling that satisfaction, not blood, was now flowing through his veins.

His cousin furrowed her brow at his words, clearly worried and concerned.

“What if you make me do something bad? Or something that will bring me disgrace?” She mumbled.

“I won't make you do such a thing. I am a man of honour.” He said proudly.

He blinked, shocked to see that she nodded at his words.

That's it?

“When can we begin?” She asked, and he pressed his lips together, struggling not to smile.

“Come to my chamber tonight. I'll draw you a map so you can get to it through a side entrance. And don't you dare tell anyone about this, or I will kill you with my own hands.”

She was clearly unaffected by his threat, because she smiled broadly, her face beaming with joy.

Indeed, his quarters could be accessed not only through a door, but also from the side of his bed: there was a small tower with stairs leading up to one of the rarely used corridors of the Red Keep.

He was worried, waiting for her, sitting over a mountain of books, whether the journey through the dark alleys of the fortress would prove too difficult for her: for some reason he was relieved when he heard quiet footsteps in the distance, and then saw her in the passage, looking up at him with big eyes.

She smiled broadly at the sight of him, apparently happy that she had managed to find the right way and not get lost; he grunted as she sat down beside him, pulling off the thin grey cloak thrown over her shoulders.

“Where did you and your father finish?” He asked, forcing himself to be indifferent – he swallowed hard, noticing with horror as he reached for one of the volumes that his hand was trembling with excitement.

He had never yet invited anyone to his chamber, much less without the knowledge of his mother and father.

It was their secret.

“On chapter twelve.” She said lightly, moving her chair closer to him so she could better see what they were about to discuss.

He felt relieved at the thought that he and Maester were already on chapter forty.

“Very well.” He hummed, pleased that he would be able to show off his knowledge and proficiency in this area.

His cousin, when her father wasn't around, proved to be a focused and curious student. She would ask him lots of questions and go back to things he had mentioned earlier, giving him proof that she was really listening to him.

He liked the role of teacher very much: he felt that it added to his esteem, while reassuring him that his time spent over the old tomes, contrary to what Aegon had said, was not time wasted.

He didn't know who he was really doing it for: whether for himself or for her. Certainly, in his own mind, he was convincing himself that the fact that he had agreed to teach her in Daemon's absence was an act of his favour, something for which she should be eternally grateful.

In fact, she was grateful to him.

He found it harder and harder to pretend he didn't see her during sparring or supper; some part of him, to his dismay, had come to the conclusion that he was enjoying her presence.

She cared for his older sister and was her faithful companion, but she also found time for him and his perpetually praise-hungry ego.

He was embarrassed by the way she smiled at him when their glances met in the courtyard or at the table: he had the impression that her eyes shone with joy for some reason, the expression on her face gentle and warm.

Kind.

He chastised himself for these thoughts and the strange yet pleasant feeling that filled his chest every time he lowered his head, stopping the corners of his mouth from rising with difficulty.

Then it was revealed that lady Laena was expecting another child, and something in her suddenly faded.

She felt less and less visible in the eyes of her father, who was far away, on another continent, while she was here, all by herself.

Looking at her and his own mother, Queen Alicent, sitting near her, he compared the shades of their hair, their eyes, the shape of their noses, hands and faces.

After thinking about it for a while, he decided that differences between them were not that great, and that if he had forgotten that she was the daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce, his cousin could be the daughter of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Alicent Hightower.

His sister.

In truth, he was only a month older than her, but that did not change the fact that this would make him her older brother: this, in turn, would mean that since it was Helaena's destiny to marry Aegon, it would be his younger sister's destiny to marry him.

He lowered his gaze at this thought, feeling a burning red blush of embarrassment spread across his pale cheeks at the thought.

His heart thumped harder in his chest when he realised that nothing in that thought had rejected him.

But what if she didn't want it?

If she felt disgusted at the very thought of marrying him?

Rejection was something he couldn't afford.

It was safer to remain silent.

He felt his own blood under his tongue when his teeth involuntarily bit his lower lip at the word that her father wanted to take her to Essos.

“You have been away from home for too long. You should spend more time with your sisters.” He heard Daemon's voice outside her chamber door a few hours after her father had arrived in King's Landing.

Eavesdropping was not in good taste, but for some reason he couldn't help himself.

“What should I say to Helaena? I don't want to leave her.” Mumbled his daughter, clearly trying to come up with something quickly that would allow her to stay in the Red Keep.

“That you will now spend time with your true family.”

Your true family.

He didn't know why, but his jaw clenched in rage when he heard those words, a sharp pain piercing his heart, which beat harder in his chest.

And then Daemon took her away.

The first months without her presence had been the hardest for him, as he'd forgotten she was gone: he'd flipped through the books, wanting to prepare for their lessons, reminding himself angrily after a while that they weren't going to happen after all. Her chair had disappeared from the supper table, and her silhouette was not standing in the courtyard, aiming at a target with a bow.

It was as if she had never been there.

And then word reached King's Landing that lady Laena had died in childbirth.

It was a time of sadness in the Red Keep: previously Rhaenyra had mourned the death of her lover and father of her bastards, Harwin Strong; now, however, someone who was related to them all by blood, a close part of their family, had died.

He was ashamed that during the journey they had taken the whole family on to attend lady Laena's funeral, he had struggled to hold back a smile, feeling excited at the thought that the largest dragon in the world had just been left without a rider.

Although he tried to fool himself, he was enjoying not only the opportunity to claim a dragon, but also to see someone else.

The sea journey he had been forced to make, unlike his siblings, had dragged on mercilessly. When they finally reached the shore, he vomited: however, he quickly pulled himself together, recognising that neither she nor his nephews could see him in such a state.

His family were welcomed into the fortress with honours; he felt his heart pounding hard as he looked around the courtyard, hoping to see her. As he raised his head, he drew in a deep breath, catching sight of her silhouette in one of the open windows.

When their gazes met, she smiled.

Despite the fact that he should be concentrating on grieving, all he did during the funeral was listen for any sounds of the dragon that might be coming from afar and glanced at her, shocked that she seemed slightly taller to him – he also had the impression that her figure had become more girlish, whatever that meant.

When she caught him staring at her, he lifted his head up, embarrassed, pretending to look at the sky.

During the feast, which took place in one of the courtyards situated high above the sea, all he could think about was how to get her to speak to him. He did not want to be the one vying for her attention, running after a woman: this was foolish and, most importantly, unworthy of a man.

A man was supposed to be strong and proud, cold if necessary, but never weak.

Nevertheless, he longed to spend time with her, though she did not know it: she watched from the sidelines her half-sisters, embraced tightly by their grandparents, drenched in tears. Daemon and Rheanyra had disappeared somewhere, and she was left alone, not knowing what to do with herself.

After a while, their gazes met again – this time, though with difficulty, he did not look away. They continued like this for a while, until she made a slight movement with her head, as if pointing to the stone steps that led behind the wall, and then walked down them.

She wanted him to follow her.

He swallowed hard and glanced at his bored brother, who held a refilled wine cup in his hand.

“I'm going to take a walk. I have no desire to stay with these people.” He said to him dispassionately.

Aegon shrugged his shoulders.

“Do what you want.” His brother replied, looking intensely at one of the servants in the distance.

He sighed silently and moved ahead, feeling his heart in his throat.

What if someone sees them?

Was this a good idea?

Maybe he should turn back?

Hundreds of thoughts beat against each other in his head, but his legs led him to the stone stairs anyway, and then down to where no one could see them.

His cousin stood by the wall, looking beyond it to the sea; her long hair was partly tied back with a blue ribbon, the rest of it was blown by the wind. When she heard his footsteps, she looked up at him and smiled in a way he knew very well.

She was glad to see him.

“I'm glad to see you, cousin.” She said softly when he stopped in front of her, as if she was reading his mind.

He nodded, embarrassed, feeling for some reason that despite the cool sea breeze around them, he was hot.

“My condolences.” He muttered, reminding himself that his mother had ordered him to say it to everyone he met.

His cousin lowered her gaze and nodded, accepting his words.

“Thank you.”

They both fell silent, looking out at the sea, simply standing side by side. He was afraid that he should say something and was thinking hard about what neutral topic he could raise, when he suddenly heard her voice beside him.

“She was a good woman. She never tried to replace my mother, but she did everything she could to make me feel that she cared about me. I regret that I never thanked her for it.” She muttered, her voice breaking more and more with each sentence.

He looked at her uncertainly out of the corner of his eye, fearing that she would cry.

He wasn't good at consoling, so he remained silent.

“But I couldn't love her. Nor my sisters. I couldn't form a bond with them. My stepmother died, and I don't feel anything.” She said in a breaking voice, tear after tear ran down her cheeks red from the cold.

“If you don't feel anything, why are you crying?” He asked, looking ahead, straight at the setting sun hiding behind the horizon of the sea.

“Because I'm ashamed.” She confessed, making him feel a squeeze in his chest for some reason.

“You don't have to. She was not your mother, and they are not your sisters. You don't owe them anything.” He replied matter-of-factly, feeling that this was exactly what he believed.

Contrary to what Daemon had told her, they were not her true family.

They only pretended to be one.

“Who then is my family, if not my own father, his wife and daughters?” She mumbled with difficulty, as if his words frightened her even more.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, wondering if he should say it.

“Unlike my nephews, you are a true blood of the dragon. You can decide for yourself who you will love and who you will despise.” He replied with emphasis on the last words, involuntarily glancing in her direction.

She looked at him in disbelief, her dark eyes larger than ever, as if what he was saying shocked her.

“We don't control who we love.” She said, looking him straight in the face.

“We don't control. We choose.” He finally stated and drew in the air loudly, folding his hands behind his back. “You also have to choose. If you wish, I will take you with me back to where you belong. To King's Landing.”

Her lower lip twiched at his words, as if he had stabbed a dagger straight into her heart.

“I don't believe you.”

He wanted to answer her, but he flinched when he realised that he had heard the screech of a dragon in the distance – he raised his head and followed with his eyes the small, dark silhouette flying between the clouds.

Then he made his decision.

“I will take you to the Red Keep on the back of my dragon.”

She did not understand what he meant, however, he preferred not to initiate her into his plan: she had promised to obey him, so when he commanded her to go to sleep and worry about nothing, she did so reluctantly.

He, on the other hand, set out under cover of darkness to meet his destiny.

The trip through hills full of sand and stones was difficult and exhausting, but what he saw was sufficient compensation for his efforts. Vhagar was frighteningly beautiful: she was big, magnificent, and she evidently saw in him what none but his mother and cousin could, for although she opened her maw to burn him, when he spoke to her in High Valyrian, she hesitated.

Climbing onto her back, his palms were sweaty from nerves and terror, his body trembling as he tried with great effort to reach her saddle. When he finally succeeded and lifted into the skies with her, he realised that the gods had given him a sign, revealing to him his fate.

He had made Vhagar his dragon, and in the future he would make his cousin his wife.

In that moment, as he screamed with happiness, flying between the clouds, it made perfect sense to him. He didn't see this idea as something to do with physicality, but rather the conviction that since they both held affection and respect for each other, someday they would surely be able to beget offspring together, to create a lineage they would both be proud of.

In that one moment, he felt like he was holding his destiny in his hands, only for the gods to flip a coin again.

As soon as he landed back on the ground his nephews were already waiting for him and gave him another gift, this time one he was never to forget.

If he had to explain to someone what the pain of his eye being pulled out of his eye socket was, he wouldn't be able to describe it: it seemed to him that not only he was screaming, but his whole body as well, that his fingernails would pierce the frame of the bed he was lying on, that he was about to die and would never wake up.

He feared death.

“Mother, don't let me die.” He mumbled out, choking on his tears, his hands clenched into fists on the sheets.

His mother squeezed his arm harder, giving him courage.

“You will not die, my brave son. One day we will have our vengeance.”

Though Luke had taken his honour and his face, he had gained something more: a dragon.

A dragon that no one could challenge.

He knew that what happened after he returned from Vhagar's liege had nothing to do with Daemon's daughter: he had ordered her to stay in her chamber until he came for her, and so she did.

When he walked into her quarters, she rose from her seat, her face flooded with tears.

Daemon had already told her what had happened.

“I –” She began, but he would not let her finish.

“Fly with me or stay. I won't give you a second chance to choose.” He said coldly.

He was a man of honour and he kept his word.

He was sure she would refuse.

He was sure she was a coward.

But she nodded her head.

Neither of them knew how furious Daemon had been when he and his daughter had taken to the skies without his knowledge: when, in his eyes, he had abducted her as it was in the tradition of Old Valyria for centuries, to one day make her his wife.

Lady Royce

Her father punished her escape with his silence: the very thing he knew would hurt her most. He didn't answer her letters or explanations, and for months, then years, he didn't visit the Red Keep even at the invitation of his brother-king.

She knew that he considered what she had done a betrayal, and she suffered greatly because of it.

Nevertheless, she could not lie to herself and pretend that returning to King's Landing did not bring her relief. Between her half-sisters, she felt invisible, her father's person crushed her, and now she was free again.

At least in theory.

Queen Alicent was enraged when she saw her in the company of her son as soon as they returned to the Red Keep: she considered it their act of disobedience and a reason for Daemon to take revenge on her and her children. Her husband, however, was not so harsh about their misdeeds.

“They are just children, my love. My niece can stay here as long as she wishes. My brother and his daughters are in mourning. Let her not surround herself with sorrow and death.”

Although, in fact, King Viserys was partly right, her father was not really focused on mourning, but on marrying another woman as soon as possible.

Rhaenyra.

Only then did she feel as if someone had drawn a clear red line between one part of her family and another: the one that supported Queen Alicent and the one that supported Princess Rheanyra.

She herself wasn't sure she supported anyone: all she cared about was keeping Helaena safe. She was unable to bond with Baela and Rhaena, but she treated the king's daughter like her true sister.

She was calm, quiet and kind, full of warmth that gave her a sense of safety.

“I'm worried about Aemond.” She said one day, bent over her beautiful embroidery depicting a spider. “I feel that he is retreating more and more into the darkness of his mind.”

She lowered her gaze at her words, understanding perfectly what she meant: she answered nothing, however, as her cousin forbade her to speak of anything they discussed or did behind the closed door of his chamber.

He had kissed her for the first time when they were thirteen; he was respectful and gentle when his hands cupped her soft, pink cheeks during one of their lessons in his quarters, his caress slow and warm.

He was clearly nervous and excited, his breath heavy as their skin pressed together in a wet, sticky act she had only heard about from girls older than her.

She was convinced that this gesture was not a proof of his affection for her, but jealousy that Aegon had more experience with women than he did.

Nevertheless, since then, there had been a change in him that she had not expected: he had apparently regarded that incident as a turning point of some sort.

He began to speak not of his lineage but of their lineage, not of his heritage but of their heritage.

“From now on, I will be to you like an older brother,” he communicated to her proudly, looking down at her, having long been much taller than her, “I will protect you and surround you with the care a man should bestow on a woman.”

She accepted his words with joyful disbelief, feeling her heart flutter like a bird in her chest.

On more than one occasion, she had witnessed Aegon encouraging him to join him in a brothel – according to his older brother, only intercourse with the body of a mature, experienced woman could make him a real man.

It seemed to her that her cousin was inwardly torn listening to these words – some part of him clearly wanted to prove to Aegon that he could be as good a lover as he was, but on the other hand he dismissed him, saying that he was interested in the arts of war and sword, not old courtesans.

Occasionally he would glance at her out of the corner of his eye, as if the fact that she was listening to this exchange of words made him uncomfortable; then, for a moment, the thought would cross her mind that perhaps she was the reason he was refusing him.

She realised then that there was some kind of plan in his head, a vision of which she was also a part.

She craved it and was terrified of it at the same time.

She was not a mature woman, let alone an experienced one.

When she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw with sadness that, compared to the other ladies of the court, she still looked like a child; the delicate outline of her breasts under her gown could not compare with the full, plump shapes of the other women's chests, as much as with their wide hips and coquettish smiles.

She didn't know what to do to make the change inside her happen faster, until one day she found out that transforming into a woman wasn't as pleasant and beautiful as it might seem.

“You are bleeding, my love,” Queen Alicent told her, trying to reassure her after she woke up, all sticky from the blood leaking from between her thighs, “your flower has blossomed. It means you are fertile and can become a mother. It's natural, although unpleasant.”

“When will it end?” She muttered, twisting in her seat, already dressed in clean smallclothes, filled inside with materials that were apparently meant to stop the bleeding.

“In a few days. But it will happen again in a month. It will continue to happen for years, as long as you and your future husband do not conceive a child.” The queen explained to her.

“For years?” She squirmed, feeling that something in that thought had broken her.

She did not know why she had cried that day, lying in her bed. She resented her father that neither he nor his second wife had warned her what the woman's fate was.

She did not know that she would feel painful spasms in her lower abdomen, she did not know that the warm, disgusting liquid would flow out of her again and again, making her uncomfortable.

She felt that there was no glory in it, no reason to be proud – on the contrary, for some reason she felt an overwhelming, deep shame.

She shuddered and covered herself more tightly with a fur when she heard the door to her chamber open – her cousin stepped inside without a word, striding towards her with his hands folded behind his back.

It was the first time he had come to her, rather than she to him.

“My congratulations.” He said, stopping beside her bed, looking at her with some kind of curiosity and satisfaction.

“I don't follow.” She mumbled, surprised by his choice of words.

“Fertility is a reason for every woman to be proud.” He stated, cocking his head to the side.

She lowered her gaze, realising that he knew what was happening to her.

“I didn't know it would be so painful.” She finally confessed, wondering if he would scold her for self-pity.

He, however, was silent for a long moment before speaking again.

“That's because you're not carrying a child inside you. When you become my wife, I will see to it that you no longer suffer.” He replied at last, struggling to remain calm – she had known him long enough, however, to know that he feared her reaction.

She looked at him with big eyes, feeling her heart pounding like mad.

What?

“What do you mean?” She muttered without thinking, even though she understood perfectly well what he was implying.

She just couldn't believe he'd said it out loud.

She saw that he swallowed hard, struggling to keep a stony face.

“Do you wish to marry someone else?” He asked, a hint of frustration in his voice that sent a cold shiver down her spine.

She shook her head quickly, horrified at his suggestion and the direction their conversation was going.

“N-no.” She mumbled.

“Good.” He said and turned away without another word, leaving her alone with his suggestion of what he truly desired.

Despite his words, he didn't try to kiss her for a second time; apparently his pride wouldn't allow him to ask again for something that, in his mind, was no more than a naïve female fantasy.

That he was incapable of expressing and showing his feelings openly, she had known for a long time; anything that might make him be seen as weak or naive was an unnecessary risk for him.

His older brother watched him closely, mocking and commenting aloud on any behaviour he found amusing and worthy of his attention.

To her cousin, the thought that he was constantly being watched, and thus could not afford to make a mistake, was completely petrifying.

This was the reason he avoided using words; it frightened him how many undertones and misunderstandings they involved, how easily he could destroy his reputation in the eyes of others with one ill-considered sentence.

She was then left with no choice but to use her intuition, carefully observing his subtlest gestures and glances to understand what he was trying to convey to her wordlessly. It was a difficult process, because he too often did not know what his needs really were and what they stemmed from.

“I don't want to strain you. We can discuss this chapter another time.” She said uncertainly, seeing that ever since she had crossed the threshold of his chamber his figure had tensed and his face expressed cold displeasure.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye in a way from which she felt a squeeze in her throat.

“If you want to leave, then do so.” He replied, making her blink in astonishment.

“I just want you to rest properly.” She muttered, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture.

She felt around him like she was with her father, never knowing what would satisfy him.

“Are you afraid of me?” He asked at last, forcing the words out with some strange difficulty, as if this thought had been weighing on his heart for a long time.

She swallowed hard, completely surprised by his question.

“No. I just… I just find it hard to comprehend what could possibly please you.” She choked out with difficulty, feeling ashamed at hearing how pathetic that sounded.

She thought he would laugh mockingly at her words, but his face was completely grave.

“Your kiss will please me.” He said with some kind of regret, as if he was suffering from having to ask her for it.

It hit her that he simply wanted reciprocation when, at the same time, she was afraid that if she offered it herself, he would consider it undignified behaviour on her part.

She sighed, trying to calm herself down and moved closer to him – she saw that he drew in air loudly through his nose, as if he was trying to mentally prepare himself for what was about to happen.

He shuddered as she took his face in her hands, exactly as he did then – her thumbs stroked his cheeks and he closed his eyelid for a moment, as if he felt relieved. She took advantage of the fact that he wasn't looking and leaned in, letting their lips join in a moist, soft kiss – he surprised her when he parted his mouth and gently deepened the caress, making his warm breath fill her throat.

She closed her eyes, for some reason not wanting to pull away from him – she let his fingers run through her long, loose hair, let his hands roam tentatively over the back of her head and neck, while their lips brushed and teased each other with the quiet, sticky clicks of their saliva.

Eventually they ran out of breath, so they broke the kiss, however, their foreheads remained pressed together.

“Leave, if you want to.” He whispered, clearly indicating that he had no intention of taking advantage of her in any way.

“I don't want to leave,” she mumbled, embarrassed by her own words, “I want to fall asleep by your side.”

“My mother would kill me.” He mumbled out, as if he was fighting the strenuous urge to succumb to her.

“Then I will leave. I don't want to be the reason for you two to disagree.” She said, stroking his cheek with her palm, trying to comfort him.

“No,” he breathed out, his fingers digging harder into the fabric of her robe at her back, “stay.”

So she stayed.

There was something naïve about the way they lay far apart on his bed, the way his hand grasped hers and squeezed it, as if he wanted to find out if it was really happening.

“Don't tell anyone.” He asked, a sort of childish desire in his eye, from which her heart filled with warmth.

“I won't.”

That night it seemed to her that he didn't fall asleep even for a moment – she felt his hand run over her fingers, over her shoulder, and when he was sure she was immersed in a dream, he smoothed her cheek with his thumb.

What surprised her was that every time he did this a warm, pleasant shiver ran through her body – she wished he would never stop, because this was the first time in her life she had felt so comforted by someone.

This event had changed him; clearly the realisation that she reciprocated his affection had emboldened him in some way.

When they finished their lessons, they often lay on his bed facing each other and talked, touching each other's hands, faces and hair at the same time. Her heart pounded like crazy as his fingers combed through her curls, as his hand closed around the back of her neck, massaging it gently.

“I like the way you smell,” he said once out of nowhere, surprising her completely, “and the fact that your skin is so pleasantly soft.”

She realised he was trying to offer her a compliment – the thought of the two of them taking a walk through the royal gardens or showing interest in each other in public filled him with embarrassment, however, he had clearly found that in the privacy of his chamber he was willing to give her something he was not offering anyone else.

His words.

She smiled broadly at his confession, feeling a pleasant warmth in her lower abdomen spilling over her insides like a wave.

“And I like your big hands,” she replied shyly, stroking the skin of his wrist with her fingers, “and your beautiful white hair.”

She saw that he swallowed loudly, and his lips tightened in an involuntary attempt to stop himself from showing any reaction to her words; nevertheless, his eye betrayed him – it grew large and full of something she understood perfectly.

He needed to hear that something of value could be seen in him too, including physically.

That he wasn't a cripple in her eyes.

The way he slowly leaned towards her, his lips that barely brushed hers in a gesture full of invitation, their hands that clasped in their hair seemed as natural to her as breathing – the caress of their lips was hotter and more intimate than they had ever been before, deep, filled with something she was yet to discover.

Kisses were a form of reward for them, but also some kind of consolation on difficult days; in this way, although they could not speak openly to each other about this subject, they gave each other a sense of mutual care.

Over time, although it carried a high risk of being caught, they took this caress beyond the thresholds of his room; it was enough for him to catch her in one of the less frequented corridors of the Red Keep for their brief – even rough on his side – exchange of words to end with his tongue invading between her plump lips.

He liked it when their tongues met and licked, because he was obviously aroused by how perverse and passionate it was; his healthy eye was closed when his body pressed hers against one of the cold stone walls, while their hot mouths melted together again and again.

It was a warm, wet experience, filled with their loud, raspy breaths, their hands tentatively trailing the silhouettes of their bodies, giving them only the promise of what they both desired.

In that moment, in some strange, chaotic way they were devouring each other.

Her cousin evidently believed that he did not need to explain or confess anything to her; no words of affection, if he had any for her, ever left his lips. On the contrary; as he grew taller and his physique grew stronger, so did his ego, and with it the impression that he could not afford to show what he thought was a mere feminine sentiments.

Perhaps this would have been the reason for her distress, had it not been for the fact that he paid more attention to her than to anyone else anyway; above all, to the despair of the other ladies of the court, she was the only person besides Criston Cole and members of his family with whom he spoke in public of his own free will.

He usually approached her when he had something to say to her and announced it to her as simply and quickly as possible – he would then stand erect in front of her with his hands folded behind his back and look off somewhere into the distance, glancing at her only occasionally, usually driven by mere curiosity.

“A wild dragon has been seen in the Vale regions lately.” He said to her one day, as she happened to be heading to his sister's chamber to help her change before supper. “He is said to be larger than Meleys.”

She blinked, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad – she looked around quickly, wanting to make sure no one had heard what he had said.

“Help me.” She whispered. “Please.”

Her cousin cocked his head and hummed, looking at her with his mouth formed in the shape of an o, as if he wanted to whistle in satisfaction.

He liked it when she begged.

“Hm. How can I be sure you won't use this dragon against me and my family one day?” He asked offhandedly, looking down at her, a kind of challenge in his voice.

She blinked, feeling cold discomfort in her chest at his words.

“I am your family.” She mumbled.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them – she could see in his gaze that he was thinking about something, at the same time unable to deny her words.

“We leave tomorrow, at dawn.” He finally communicated to her in boredom, leaving her bewildered.

“And the Queen and your grandfather? Do they know what you intend to do?” She asked, and he rolled his eye, clearly frustrated by her remark.

“Sheep don't understand the ways of dragons. It's beyond their comprehension.” He recognised with some kind of pride, from which she pressed her lips together to keep from expressing her disbelief.

Clearly something in the expression on his face must have betrayed her, for he looked at her suddenly with a piercing, watchful gaze, his jaw twitching in a reflex she knew well.

“Come to my chamber tonight.”

Just as she had done in their childhood days, to leave her rooms now she had to wait for the watch to change; only then would she slip out and take advantage of the moment to make her way down a dark, rarely used corridor through a side entrance to the prince's quarters.

She had no idea if anyone but her knew about it; presumably if they did, the guards thought the additional door remained locked. However, her cousin had left them open for her, and it was through these that she entered, stepping into his chamber, enveloped in the warm light of the fire.

She spotted his silhouette at once – he was sitting at the top of a long table, on which lay stacks of maps and letters, a thick, old volume in his hands.

When he heard her footsteps, he lifted a glance of his healthy eye to her, and then returned to his reading again, carelessly turning the page over.

She was not bothered by this; he was often in the habit of pretending not to see her at first. From her perspective, it was his attempt to cope with the fact that, although accustomed to solitude, he was hosting someone else in his private quarters.

She untied her cloak, placed it on one of the richly decorated oak chairs and, wearing nothing but her nightgown, took a slow, quiet step towards his bed. She knew she could do it, and that she was certain to stay with him anyway, so she simply lay back on the soft sheet and closed her eyes, listening to the pleasant sound of the sizzling fire.

For a moment, all she could hear was that and the rustle of pages being turned – the smell of him and the parchments pleasantly filled her nose, calming her.

The quiet creak of wood woke her from her half-sleep and she shuddered, opening her sleepy eyes – she spotted his silhouette heading lazily towards her. His hand rose to the belt of his tunic, undoing it with the quiet click of a buckle.

“Tomorrow. You must promise to obey me. Otherwise I will not fly with you.” He said calmly, looking at her with an expression on his face that pretended to show indifference.

“I will.” She said.

“Mm.” He hummed under his breath, finally pulling the leather material off his shoulders.

She made room for him and moved sideways on the bed as he sat on the edge of it and leaned over, pulling his boots off his feet. She watched wordlessly as he did the same a moment later with his eye patch, finally throwing it carelessly onto the stone floor. He sighed and hid his face in his hand, massaging the area around his scarred eye socket in some subconscious reflex.

Stress was causing discomfort to return to the left side of his face.

“You are in pain.” She whispered softly, raising herself up on her elbow.

He didn't reply, just swallowed hard and froze in stillness.

“Let me.” She insisted, and he finally looked at her and nodded.

She raised herself up on her knees and moved towards him, sitting down so that she could see his face. He looked at her silently with some kind of melancholy as her hands gently grasped his face and her thumbs began to massage his temples.

He immediately closed his eye and flinched as her thumbs moved over his brow arches and cheekbones – he twitched when she did it the first time, but relaxed more and more with each subsequent stroke, and his face took on an expression of relief.

“I wouldn't object if you did this to me all night.” He said quietly, his eyelid still closed. She smiled involuntarily at his words, running her fingers over his forehead, nose and cheeks, going back to the beginning – to his temples and brows.

“I can.” She said warmly, but he shook his head.

“We need to rest. Come. I want to sleep.”

She nodded and held out her hand to him, shifting back towards the middle of the bed – he moved obediently to follow her and literally fell into her arms, pressing his nose against the space between her breasts.

She wasn't sure if he was able to breathe in that position, but she could see that his chest was rising and falling, so she didn't comment on it, combing her fingers through his white hair.

She knew that he was hiding from the world now: he wanted to disappear for a while and simply not be, like a small, defenceless child.

The control that he, in his mind, had over his life had a high cost that he did not speak of – it superseded any of his other needs unrelated to survival and victory, whatever that victory would mean.

While it may have seemed complicated, in fact the truth was much simpler: he was tired. It wasn't so much a physical fatigue, however, but rather a spiritual one – the self-imposed compulsion to remain silent when he was still a child was something that kept him safe, but also imprisoned him in his own head.

She mused on this as she watched him in silence, playing with strands of his long hair, feeling his body grow loose in her embrace, the tips of his fingers wandering lazily over her bare arm, his eye remaining closed.

He craved her closeness, but in more ways than one; preferably ones he could see as safe in his mind.

Lying in her embrace was such; he could just lie there and let her stroke him, listening to the slow beat of her heart. He could smell her scent and feel the warmth of her body, hear her breathing, have her to himself and know that she would fall asleep with him.

It calmed him.

In the middle of the night, she was awakened by the touch of a familiar hand – when she opened her eyes, she was in the midst of darkness. Her cousin was still snuggled up against her body, and he was obviously convinced that she was deeply asleep – it was only because of this that he allowed his fingers to travel up to her breast and squeeze it gently, as if checking to see if it was as soft as he imagined.

She couldn't stop the hot shudder that ran through her body or the pulsing she felt deep between her thighs. Other than that, she didn't move; she felt him freeze for a while, but after a moment, when he recognised that she had reacted in her sleep, he went back to stroking her plump bosom with his fingers.

A soft, shaky breath escaped her lips, her hands tightened on his back, holding him close; she felt him flinch and he froze again, taking his hand quickly off her chest.

She heard him swallow hard as she grasped his wrist and, in a gentle, slow motion, placed his hand where it had been – her fingers intertwined with his, allowing him to sink into the softness of her flesh again.

She thought it was a very intimate experience, one from which her whole body grew hot and her cheeks lit up red. She closed her eyes, hearing both of them breathe a little louder, their bodies pressed tighter together, seeking closeness.

Her wordless consent apparently made him feel bold, because he leaned forward, closing his lips around her nipple, clearly visible under the thin material of her nightgown. Something between a moan of surprise and a sigh escaped her throat when she felt him begin to suck as if he were a baby – her fingers clenched on his hair, holding him close.

“– lēkia (big brother) –” She whispered and flinched as she felt something long and hard pulsate in his breeches, pushing against her thigh.

She didn't quite understand the purpose of what he was just doing, but it was pleasant; she thought perhaps it was one of the secrets Aegon had told him about the pleasures of the female body.

She kissed the top of his head as his hand slid down her waist, slipping uncertainly under her linen shirt to finally touch her bare knee.

She felt that something throbbed hard deep inside her, that something sticky ran down her buttock to the sheet beneath their bodies.

They both began to pant as his broad hand went higher up her thigh and then to her hip, squeezing it finally between his fingers.

She shuddered as his wrist slid lower, between her legs, and his hand immediately froze – exactly like her body – when he touched her moist, pulsing womanhood.

“May I?” He asked in a whisper, still snuggled into her chest, not daring to look at her.

“What… what do you want to do?” She answered question for question, unsure of how much she herself was ready for.

She heard him swallow hard, as if he was terrified of having to answer her out loud.

“I want to give you pleasure.”

She felt her heart pounding like mad under his cheek, her fingers gently stroking his head.

She wondered if she should say it.

“I'm afraid.”

He took his hand from between het thighs at her words.

“What are you afraid of? I would never hurt you.” He assured her with a kind of surprise and regret, as if he didn't believe he had to say it.

“It's such a… private place. I…”

“I didn't mean to rush you. Forgive me. Do not be afraid.” He whispered, his voice strangely soothing, as if he understood what she meant.

“I'm sorry.” She mumbled in shame, feeling that she had ruined something that could have changed everything between them.

Her cousin raised himself on his elbow to look at her, but her big, red eyes made him freeze.

“Daor, hāedar (no, little sister). Gaomagon limagon daor (do not cry).” He said in a quiet, melodious tone, his large hand gently cupping her hot cheek.

“It was happening so fast. Your hand…”

She didn't finish as he leaned over her and placed a soft, gentle kiss on her lips. They stayed like that for a while without separating their bodies, her fingers grasping his, holding him close.

When he finally pulled away from her, his gaze was calm.

“I should have prepared you better. Explain what I want to do.” He said with a kind of weariness from which she felt a squeeze in her throat.

It was the first time he had spoken openly.

“Can you explain it to me now? So that I understand?” She asked, and he swallowed loudly, lowering his gaze for a moment.

He began to play with the material of her nightgown between his fingers, apparently struggling to find the right words to describe his desires.

“The source of a woman's pleasure, from what I understood from my brother's babble, is deep between her thighs. It is hidden there and must be found and caressed for a woman to achieve fulfilment.” He choked out finally, looking at her womb and hips, now hidden again under her shirt.

She twisted in her place, intrigued.

“The ladies of the court say that a man's tongue down there can perform wonders. But I don't know what they meant by that.” She said lightly.

She saw that he looked at her in shock, his nostrils twitched in a deep breath.

“You've heard about it too. From whom?” She asked amused.

He grunted and shrugged his shoulders, turning his head in the opposite direction.

“Aegon likes to brag about what he does to his whores and servants.” He muttered, feigning indifference, but his breathing, deep and uneven, betrayed him.

“Would you like to try it? That tongue thing.” He suggested suddenly, glancing in her direction out of the corner of his eye.

She drew in a loud breath, twisting in her place again, feeling her womanhood swell suddenly and pulsate around nothing at the very thought.

His mouth, down there.

“Doesn't it disgust you?” She mumbled in shame.

“You took a bath before you came to me, didn't you?”

“…I did.” She admitted, looking at him with wide eyes.

“So I can try. To satisfy our curiosity.” He proposed, apparently wanting to find any justification for what he wanted to do.

She nodded, feeling her heart in her throat, her stomach no longer filled with fear but with pure, hot excitement.

“If you don't like it, say so. I don't want to force you.” She said in a voice breaking with tension, watching in disbelief as he moved down, kneeling between her legs.

He threw her a meaningful look, in which she saw some kind of mockery.

“As if it's easy to force me to do anything against my will. Who do you think I am?” He asked with a wince, a slow, lazy movement of his hand lifting the material of her nightgown above her hips.

She had never been so exposed to anyone before in her life; she had to turn her gaze away to avoid looking at it and closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing. Her hands tightened on the pillow on each side of her head when she felt him gently take her thighs in his rough hands and spread them slightly apart.

For a moment nothing happened; she thought he was just looking at her, or rather at what was between her legs. She sighed and flinched, surprised when his thumb ran down the length of her opening, apparently wanting to collect what had managed to leak out of her.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked uncertainly, clearly not understanding if her reaction was due to discomfort or not.

She shook her head quickly, looking up at him only to close her eyes again a moment later, overwhelmed by the helpless position she had just found herself in.

She was at his mercy.

He won't hurt me, she assured herself in spirit.

He promised me that, and he is a man of his word.

This thought calmed her.

Her heart thumped harder in her chest when she heard the bed creak loudly under the weight of his body, and then his hot breath enveloped her throbbing womanhood – a quiet moan of surprise broke from her throat when she felt his slick tongue run over her flesh, causing an aggressive shiver to pass down her spine.

She didn't have time to calm down after that first, shocking sensation, and his tongue again clung to her smooth, dripping cunt, licking it like a cat drinking milk – her hands involuntarily reached into his hair and clenched on it, her hips made a motion forward as if trying to sink into his face.

“– oh – yes –” She breathed out, but it seemed to her that this voice was not her own, its tones squeaky and girlish, full of surprise.

She thought her body was on fire, arching as it rocked to the rhythm of his caresses – she heard him sigh, obviously feeling her wetness begin to run down her buttocks. His lips closed gently around the sweet spot she felt most strongly and began to suck, making her cry out loudly, throwing her head back.

“– Aemond –” She whined out pleadingly, though she didn't know what she was really asking for – all she could hear and feel were the wet sounds of slurping and licking, lazy and unhurried, full of a thoroughness that drove her mad.

As she glanced down at him, for some reason wanting to see him now, she noticed that his eyelid was closed and he was completely absorbed in his task – his head was moving back and forth, disappearing again and again deep between her thighs.

It felt like a bolt of lightning pierced her lower abdomen when she felt his tongue burst inside her body and begin to thrust between her fleshy, hot walls.

“– g-gods – gods, oh, fuck, fuck, yes, yes, brother, here, right here, yes –” She begged, completely losing touch with reality, feeling nothing but overwhelming pleasure as again and again the tip of his tongue teased a spot deep inside her, from which the tension in her loins became unbearable.

She felt that some sort of peak was approaching, that if it lasted even a moment longer, her poor womanhood would simply explode.

“– ah! –” She almost screamed out in pleasure as a convulsion shook her body – she threw her head back, feeling a wonderful, overpowering, tickling wave of heat spread across her insides, flowing through her mouth, her breasts, her belly, down to her throbbing, leaking cunt.

She panted for a moment longer, wishing the feeling would never go away, until she froze powerless, breathing heavily with her eyes closed. She only looked up at him when she heard the quiet rustling of fabric, followed by quick, rhythmic, sticky splats – before she could make any sound his mouth was on hers, tasting foreign, salty and sweet at the same time.

She moaned into his throat, surprised when she felt something warm and long rub against her womanhood again and again – at first she was frightened that he craved fulfillment inside her, but contrary to her assumption, he did not try to take her. He caressed himself with his hand, squeezing his manhood at the very root, teasing its smooth tip by running it over her moist, oversensitive slit.

She murmured contentedly, sinking her hands into his long hair, letting it fall lightly against her body. Knowing that he was balancing on one hand and just giving himself pleasure with the other, she decided to help him achieve satisfaction, exactly as he had helped her.

He looked at her with his mouth wide open, breaking the kiss for a moment when he saw her slide her nightgown off her shoulders, revealing the fullness of her breasts to him. He closed his eyes and gave her a quiet little moan as she lifted his shirt up, exposing his chest, and with a gesture of her arms, encouraged him to let their bare skin touch.

“– hāedar – mmm –” He breathed out into her mouth, sliding his tongue deep into her throat, his free hand grasping her breast so that with every movement of his hips her nipple rubbed against his chest.

Her body was all flushed from what she had experienced with him earlier, and his uncontrollable, almost animalistic movements were giving her some strange kind of pleasure. She knew he didn't want to take advantage of her – on the contrary, he no longer knew what to do with the tension he himself felt in his loins and was looking for a way to take her while not depriving her of what should not yet be his.

She didn't know what he thought of it, but she let her hands roam over his bare neck and down his back under his shirt, to his exposed buttocks from which he had slipped his breeches off. His body twitched each time her fingers explored a new region of his skin that no one but himself had ever seen or felt before – the slaps of his hand became faster and harsher, his breath heavy in her throat, the bed on which they lay began to creak loudly under their weight.

And then suddenly he made a sound of strange relief, as if he had sighed deeply and was about to cry – she squealed quietly, surprised to feel something warm and sticky spill over her abdomen and thighs, realising after a moment that it was his seed.

His body fell inertly on top of her, as if what he had done had cost him all the strength he had left, and he drew in deep breath, apparently trying to calm himself. She felt his heart pounding hard in his chest, pressed tightly against hers – his manhood, still twitching and pulsing, now lying between his body and hers, was nestled against her stomach.

She stroked his hair and his back, cuddling her cheek into his temple, trying to calm down with him and comprehend what had really happened: their bodies were hot and wet with sweat, she felt a drop of it run down her spine.

She had never been more exposed, but she had also never felt more safe.

She wasn't sure if she should say anything – she really wanted to, however, she feared that the barrage of words that would flow from her mouth would simply overwhelm him after what had happened.

She suspected that, like her, her cousin was in a state of some sort of shock.

She blinked and shuddered when she suddenly heard his voice near her ear.

“Forgive me.”

She swallowed hard, feeling discomfort at the words, for some reason filled with guilt and resignation.

“What should I forgive you for?” She asked in a whisper, looking uncertainly in his direction.

Their eyes met.

“I was supposed to protect you. I didn't keep my word.” He said finally, startling her completely.

“You can't protect me from lust. You can only make it a pleasurable experience for me, in your strong, safe arms.” She replied with a kind of conviction that evidently impressed him, for he remained silent for a long time, looking at her with wide-open eye.

“You don't resent me?” He muttered, and she shook her head, smiling for some reason.

“No. I am happy that we are discovering these fascinating mysteries together. I could not imagine a more beloved and trusted companion for this journey.” She whispered, and he snorted, but she noticed in the darkness of the chamber that the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Let's sleep.”

Aemond

When he woke up, the sun had not yet risen on the horizon – he always got up before dawn. The order of his day was predetermined and he didn't like anything to change his plans. First he would eat his morning meal, preferably one that would give him energy before sparring. Then he would move on to training his body, spending long hours in the courtyard with a sword in hand.

When this was behind him, he would take a nice hot bath in the privacy of his chamber, spending the rest of the day delving into old, thick tomes that smelled of dust. He was not fond of suppers with his family, for they bored him and were a time of mere, even simpering courtesy which he did not understand, he endured them, however, because he could then look at her in peace.

As in their childhood, she was sitting in exactly the same place now – opposite him, at the side of his sister Helaena, at the very end of the table.

To their right sat only Daeron.

Helaena was fond of her, because their cousin understood and respected her barriers. It was something he himself deeply valued in her – the fact that she could watch someone carefully and knew the boundaries she could not cross.

It made him, as well as his sister, enjoy being in her company – they knew they would not be surprised in an unpleasant way or put in a situation that would be uncomfortable for them.

In the case of her and Helaena, a sincere, warm friendship had grown between them over the years; he didn't mind this turn of events because he knew that his cousin didn't gossip about his sister with the other ladies of the court and that she kept her secrets, like his, deep in her heart.

He, of course, was not such a fool as to share his worries or thoughts with her, however, he would be lying if he said that he did not enjoy speaking with her, though he usually tried to give that impression.

“Will you stand to fight in a tournament in honour of our king's Name Day?” She asked him, putting her bow and arrows back in place while he sharpened his dagger, which he always carried with him.

Ever since she managed to tame Sheepstealer she has been more brazen than usual.

“Do you want to annoy me?” He answered dryly with a question to a question, not even looking at her despite his overwhelming desire to do so – her familiar scent reached his nose, making his manhood pulsate softly in his breeches.

His tongue swirling around her hard nipple, his two long fingers thrusting deep into her throbbing, hot cunt, all leaking with desire.

He felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine and he swallowed hard, trying to keep a stony face.

He heard her laugh behind him.

“No, but my wreath will have to fall to someone else. Pity. Perhaps I'll give my blessing to your uncle.” She said lightly, and he struggled to hold back the grimace of displeasure that pressed against his lips.

Gwayne was fond of her, and his affection was reciprocated – when he came to the Red Keep to visit his father and sister, he often chatted with her during supper and teased her in ways that drove him mad.

Usually, however, one sharp look from him over the table in her direction was enough for his cousin to turn to Helaena and pay no further attention to his uncle.

“Do what you want.” He burbled coldly, and she sighed heavily.

“Just don't be surprised.” She said disapprovingly, but before he had time to answer her anything she turned and disappeared into the depths of the castle, leaving him with her words and the discomfort he felt in his heart.

Did she really have to give anyone that fucking wreath?

On the other hand, what would it look like if she refused to give it to anyone?

What would his mother have said?

Whether he wanted to or not, he had to watch the next day as his uncle, proud in his armor, sat on his gray steed, holding aloft his lance, on which his cousin had placed a wreath of field flowers.

He looked ahead as she sat back between him and his sister, pretending not to feel how she pressed her arm against his. His gaze involuntarily fled to the side, to her hand, when he felt her little finger brush over his.

He swallowed hard and crossed his legs, shocked that this public expression of intimacy aroused him.

Did the people sitting behind them see it?

Rumors about the nature of their relationship had been spreading around King's Landing for years anyway.

His fingers involuntarily began to pluck the cuticles around his fingernails in some subconscious, nervous gesture full of excitement, the source of which he did not understand.

That night he took her for the first time.

At the beginning, it was simply a coupling similar to others they had experienced so far, but more fiery and loud, full of his frustrations and her assurances that she was faithful to him.

But then, instead of just rubbing his long manhood against the space between her thighs as usual, he decided to experience the warmth that was hidden deep inside her.

“– now I will receive my wreath – the only one that matters –” He exhaled into her ear, involuntarily pushing the tip of his length, swollen with pain and desire, against her moist, pulsing opening.

She let out a moan full of surprise and effort, her nails digging into the bare skin of his back.

“– Aemond – we can't – we can't –” She mewled and gasped as she felt that with a steady, slow thrusts he began to force his way into her hot, fleshy interior.

“– fuck –” He mouthed, feeling his heart pounding like mad, thinking that he shouldn't be doing this, but he had to, because he couldn't bear it any longer.

“– just let me –” He asked in a breaking voice, and she complied with his request.

She stared at him with her mouth wide open, trying to catch her breath as he began to move inside her, sinking deeper and deeper into her body with each deep push.

He pressed his forehead against hers, panting along with her, and stroked her sweaty cheek, looking at her with desperation, wordlessly asking her for forgiveness.

He expected it to be pleasurable, but didn't know it would be that much – her insides were warm and moist, enveloping his manhood on all sides, while squeezing him so tightly that he had trouble taking a deeper breath.

He had the impression that he was in some kind of trance, and the sounds that left their throats were not their own – their moans were high-pitched, similar to crying, her fingers clenched on his buttocks, her hips seeking rhythm with his thrusts, rocking back and forth.

“– I need this – do you understand? – I need you –” He mumbled in pain, imposing a faster, sharper pace on her, finally filling her completely.

His hips pounded against her buttocks with loud, wet splats, her moist, hot walls throbbing around his manhood, clenching against it in a way from which he felt like howling with pleasure.

“– here – please, here, brother –” She sobbed, arching her back so that the entirety of his manhood brushed against the upper wall inside her hot, spasming cunt.

“– here? – here it feels good? –” He panted with excitement, grabbing her hips in his hands, deliberately teasing the area she had showed him now – she threw her head back, her girlish cries of pleasure had to be enough of an answer for him.

“– yes – g-gods – ah –” She whimpered out, clearly experiencing it as extremely as he was, wriggling under him in pure ecstasy.

He just stared at her as his thumb ran over her swollen, plump lower lip, as her breasts bounced lightly with each of his deep, sharp stabs, until he finally felt what he so craved approaching.

An almost animalistic sound of relief came from his throat as he reached his peak inside her – he heard her sweet sound of pleasure and felt the shudder that shook her whole body, her leaking womanhood squeezing his cock greedily, sucking his seed deep inside her.

He collapsed on top of her and snuggled into her warm, sweaty skin, letting their arms embrace their figures tightly. They were both panting and quivering, feeling each other more than ever, wanting to stay that way.

As one.

He had promised himself, however, that he would never beget a bastard, and having his cousin drink moon tea was not an option for him.

He was not going to kill his own blood, his own heritage, his own child.

Then he decided that the time had come.

“Marry me.”

[sirithesillies]

hello people i was given cocon and im so bored so take way too much info about me (more than you will ever need):

obligatory this is a hella long post below :) :

i have multiple names, and therefore multiple middle names !!! notable ones are Luci (Lucifer or Lucious, whichever idc) && Nex :)

rn? 15 bodily

July 31st :D :D

^ that makes meeee a leo >:)

i like reds, greens, n purples

2 or 7 :D

YEAH !!! i have a bearded dragon named buddy, and i also share three dogs (sasha, sheeba, and albus.)

i was born in indiana? i think? but we moved so often iderk. lived in britain for a while but don't think i was born there?

a measly 5'3 :(

uhm.. american women's 8 1/2? i think?

13, 14 if you count roller blades and 1 maybe 2 if you count the ones i actually wear

uhm i was. sleeping.. in my dream.. it was a dream about me trying to fall asleep and it was really comforting though so win-win

i was told i took to crochet really quickly? i work for all of the skills i have, much to my dismay.

i have amazing vibe detectors to the point people use me as a problematic-partner-bloodhound. this works for all people MINUS the ones that are around me✌️

my music taste is super finicky !!! i've posted about it before but lowk i dont rlly have a favorite

v for vendetta at the moment...

i have a variety of mental illnesses so someone who can match my freak frsies.. i need a lot of attention and give it in return so i just need someone whos chill parallel playing like 20/6 or wtv..

i like the idea of kids and i'm good with them in short bursts of time, but i would be a HORRIBLE parent, so probably not unless i fix that :)

im not sure lowkey, haven't thought much about it. i would rather it just be personal honestly

im a polytheistic kemetic and hellenistic pagan, which means i work with both egyptian and greek deities :) i worship Sekhmet, Ra, Bastet, Apollo, Hera, and Poseidon :) I... do a lot honestly :sob:

doctors fear me, nurses love me, and i know medical staff by name. surprisingly that's gone down a lot this last year or two but i also have chronic breathing issues so i go to the hospital fairly often

yeah :sob:

not that i remember at least

baths for special occasions ONLY, showers above all else otherwise

theyre green and white with christmas puppies on them :D

i've had a work of mine go #1 on the charts on webtoon if that counts :sob: i also ran a decently big editing account in like 2020-2021 on tiktok

i'd love to be as well-known as a celebrity, but lowkey i know i'd hate actual fame, and i'd get so overwhelmed being famous. i'd need to be someone with an avatar or mascot in front of me so i could still live a semi-normal life

discussed above in my "favorite song" question, but i like a bunch !!! metal, rock, pop, hiphop, rnb, emo/scenecore songs, etc. etc. etc.

no and i DO NOT WANT TO !!! you will never catch me naked anywhere near a lake, let alone in one.

8 of varying sizes.. im also counting very specific stuffed animals but not all of them, since i use some of them as pillows

on my side curled up...

we live in a two story house with one main story and a basement. main floor has two bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen and living room combo, while the basement has one bedroom (mine!!), one bathroom, a free space, and our laundry room n pantry :)

i dont. actually eat breakfast.. uhm i like Krave brand cereal with strawberries and i like bagels either with normal cream cheese n strawberries, or fried with ham and an egg

yes i have

yes and i SUCK at it

out of all words? тоска. it sounds like "toska" and is some immeasurable yearning from the bottom of one's heart. smth smth i like words for their meanings because reducing one to its sound is superficial or smth. fr tho for a word i think sounds nice, try "eloquence"

cunt... stickin to the classics here. fuck and shit are ALSO high up here.

a very, very, very horrible 14 and a half days. it sucks. don't do it.

yeah :sob: i have scars all over if you care to look tbh, most of them have luckily just faded

not to my knowledge?

i don't like lying, nor do i make a point to practice. i don't think i am? i tend to panic and give shitty stories when i lie. so.. nah, don't think i am

for all people minus those who matter to me. lord.. show me a picture of a person and i can clock little things about them, but if someone obviously is being horrible to me? nahhhhhh theyre such a nice person they would neverrr...

nope!! can't fake accents very well. i mean.. i can kinda do a southern one ig?

i can speak with an american accent, but i speak pretty naturally with a brit one. one of my largest flaws..

i think slavic and arabic accents are gorgeous..

uhmmm my mbti is INFP-T, and im. sorta just.. me on here... idk how to describe my personality :sob:

i HATE wearing expensive clothes. most expensive article of clothing i own? a carhart jacket that's older than i am

yeppers :)

innie..

ambidextrous :) i use my left primarily to write and my right for almost everything else

no, but i don't like them on me and am terrified of black widows.

I like banana pudding? im not picky at ALL honestly

i like so many... the basic bitch answers of i like most mexican and chinese dishes, but i also like viet and indian foods... uhm im again not picky

im a mess :sob:

"woof..." "oh gosh" or "HELP???" are frequents

idk lowkey i use a lotta words a lot. yapper core...

15-20 minutes from the time i wake up to the time i'm out the door

diagnosed narcissist goes crazy

i just.. let lollies melt on my tongue... no sucking or biting required.. no conscious effort... just leavin it there

uhm i talk outloud to think but also this is biased of multiple consciousnesses in one so it's sometimes hard for me to pin if im.. just.. monologuing purposefully for a headmate or if im just thinking to myself.

i hum, but not sing :)

i think so, but who m i to say

terrified of death, horrified of being forgotten, and i despise being alone..

god no i hate gossip

no clue honestly..

medium

all 50 states AND all european countries

ela and art

ambivert :)

no but i used to live on an island near the mariana trench and it woulda been so fuckin cool to say i scuba dived near the mariana trench..

uhm various people and touchy subjects ig? im not very easily made nervous

YES and i will NOT be taking slander for it

uhm it depends? sometimes i do, sometimes it isnt worth it to, and other times i don't

yeah

no

kinda? hard to say but uhm uhm uhm

goose lore...

.....gooose lore........

a kid named Jack that i will not be getting into for aforementioned lore reasons

rn i only have my one ear piercing, but i used to have my tongue and cheeks pierced too. i wanna get my septum done and my lips (angel fangs or snakebites) when m older

yes if i try hard enough..

anywhere from 60-100 wpm depending on what im typing and if i know what i want to say. but i also fuck up a lot, so.

not very fast..

natural blond rn but i wanna dye it lowkey

blue-green, but ideally brown :)

used to be allergic to red food coloring, but now im just allergic to tylenol... lame..

yeah !! i use digital websites to :)

my father is in the military and works a variety of handymen jobs, and my mother is a hairdresser

ehhh the people around my age that i know are hit or miss, but im not getting any younger and i sure as hell don't wanna be older so

sm stuff :sob: im hard to make mad-mad but there are a few things that make me annoyed. it takes a LOT of time and effort though so yk.

im decently happy with it- there's a slight disconnect from it but overall i think my names are nice :)

Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

i really honestly don't care... i dont think much would change with it, right??

i like to think im nice enough, and im smart enough at stuff to say it blankly. im good at my art stuff and im fine enough to take care of myself for the most part :)

im lowk impulsive and i have major trust and abandonment issues :sob:

"August" i stole from auguste toulmouche, sirius is a constellation i relate to (and a certain character that i also liked), and keres was a name that i just. came with. i started using it again recently :)

im not sure, but im directly related to alexander graham belle. like, the guy who made the telephone. family's wiped from all records due to divorces n the like, but yeah :)

im lucky enough that a lot of them are faded, but i have scars pretty much everywhere if you care enough to look for em tbh

my sheers are grey and my blankets are mismatched.. but my comforter is black and so are my two pillow-pillows

My room walls are green and my floor is a brown carpet :)

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP AHHHH

1. What is you middle name? 2. How old are you? 3. When is your birthday? 4. What is your zodiac sign? 5. What is your favorite color? 6. What’s your lucky number? 7. Do you have any pets? 8. Where are you from? 9. How tall are you? 10. What shoe size are you? 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 12. What was your last dream about? 13. What talents do you have? 14. Are you psychic in any way? 15. Favorite song? 16. Favorite movie? 17. Who would be your ideal partner? 18. Do you want children? 19. Do you want a church wedding? 20. Are you religious? 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? 24. Baths or showers? 25. What color socks are you wearing? 26. Have you ever been famous? 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? 28. What type of music do you like? 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 31. What position do you usually sleep in? 32. How big is your house? 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? 34. Have you ever fired a gun? 35. Have you ever tried archery? 36. Favorite clean word? 37. Favorite swear word? 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 39. Do you have any scars? 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? 41. Are you a good liar? 42. Are you a good judge of character? 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? 44. Do you have a strong accent? 45. What is your favorite accent? 46. What is your personality type? 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? 48. Can you curl your tongue? 49. Are you an innie or an outie? 50. Left or right handed? 51. Are you scared of spiders? 52. Favorite food? 53. Favorite foreign food? 54. Are you a clean or messy person? 55. Most used phrased? 56. Most used word? 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 58. Do you have much of an ego? 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? 60. Do you talk to yourself? 61. Do you sing to yourself? 62. Are you a good singer? 63. Biggest Fear? 64. Are you a gossip? 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? 66. Do you like long or short hair? 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? 68. Favorite school subject? 69. Extrovert or Introvert? 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? 71. What makes you nervous? 72. Are you scared of the dark? 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? 74. Are you ticklish? 75. Have you ever started a rumor? 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? 77. Have you ever drank underage? 78. Have you ever done drugs? 79. Who was your first real crush? 80. How many piercings do you have? 81. Can you roll your Rs?“ 82. How fast can you type? 83. How fast can you run? 84. What color is your hair? 85. What color is your eyes? 86. What are you allergic to? 87. Do you keep a journal? 88. What do your parents do? 89. Do you like your age? 90. What makes you angry? 91. Do you like your own name? 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? 94. What are you strengths? 95. What are your weaknesses? 96. How did you get your name? 97. Were your ancestors royalty? 98. Do you have any scars? 99. Color of your bedspread? 100. Color of your room?

[starconstruction]

I really love your 🌙 smut, as a f-reader, I like how you consider f-reader as well in the kinks post, even it’s for m-reader I still like it so much , I want to see more about cosplay kink of jinsoul hehe~ I do think her fav one is student and teacher (because she love school uniform a lot🥰)

Classroom Cosplay

Allow me to give you some more Jinsoul cosplaying, i was going to do both readers for these thoughts but i didnt have the motivation.

I'll keep writing female readers for non fic asks, because it doesn't require it to be wrote twice. If im suggested any really good f!reader fics i might do them but they seem to be less popular so idk.

Smut Tags: Classroom, uniform kink, clothed sex, table sex, blowjob, creampie, rough, cosplay.

wc:1111, not proof read.

The faux classroom wasn't majorly convincing, but it would do. You had rearranged the guest room, scrapping the bed in place of tables. Buying a cheap whiteboard which had hastily drawn equations on it, the walls painted a soft beige. The walls had several pieces of paper on it, class work that Jinsoul had written in her last year of college.

You were sat at your desk, the "lesson" just concluded. The phantom students walked out the door, Jinsoul was about to join them. But you couldn't let that slide. "Jinsoul. Come here." You spoke firmly, gesturing at the desk in front of you. Jinsoul complied, sitting on the wooden surface.

She was wearing her last year college uniform, a black skirt that had well and truly rode up her legs. Giving you a view of her lace panties, her white shirt was mostly obscured under the accessories. A black tie laid on her chest surrounded by a grey and maroon cuffed blazer. Her hair was in a neat ponytail, she always looked beautiful but she was in her element here.

"What do you want professor?" Her voice turned the sweetness up to 100. Like she was innocent and not a class disrupting bitch. "You keep disrespecting me, distracting others and disrupting the class." You barked, "What do you have to say for yourself!" You felt strong in this moment.

Jinsoul paused, pretending to give a fuck. Tapping her fingers into the desk, "Oh nooooo.. I'm so sorrryyy." Your chest tightened as you got up from your desk, you towered over her body trying not to fly into a fit of rage. "You are a disrespectful pest." You breathed, Jinsoul smiled in your face. "If I've been such a bad girl, why don't you punish me?" She said, a gaze of defiance over her face. "Fine, I'll give you another essay to do."

Her smile disappeared, "No professor.. Not like that." Jinsoul grabbed your hand, pressing your long fingers against her panties. Now slightly wet as she fell into character. "Like this, if I'm such a bad girl make me regret it." She gasped.

"Oh really now?" You said, rubbing her clothed cunt. Her body reacted to your touch, gasping as her legs started to close in pleasure. "Yes professor..." That wasnt going to do, she had to learn. "Call me sir." You demanded, pulling her tie against her neck. Her lips met yours with the taste of flavourless sugar. Jinsoul's hand wondered against your slacks. Fingers brushing against your clothed hardness, they started to rub as Jinsoul kissed harder into your mouth.

You two pulled away from each other's lips, a string of shared saliva connecting you two. Jinsoul's pink tongue sliced it up as she looked at you expectantly, "Sir, are you going to punish me or what?" She smirked, baiting a reaction out of you like she was dangling fish food. "You fucking slut." You growled.

In an instant hands found her legs, roughly shoving her into the floor as she fell on her knees on the ground next to you. A yelp of surprise came from her sensational mouth, now inches from your clothed dick. "You want a punishment so bad?" You asked, Jinsoul nodded eagerly. "Then you'll fucking get one." You unzipped your pants, boxers falling suit with your cock firmly pressing against her mouth.

"You will take everything I give you." Before Jinsoul could react you forced yourself into her mouth, eyes widening as your length was firmly inside. She was warm and inviting, saliva coating your cock as her tongue was dragging against the bottom of your shaft. Every bump brought a whirlwind of pleasure, Jinsoul's cheeks tightened as they hollowed out.

"Such a great throat for a good slut.." You moaned, but if she wanted a punishment she was going to have it. You monuvered her body, pushing her against the throat of your desk. Still planted deep inside her mouth, the new angle gave you deeper access into her college mouth pussy. Slamming into the students throat "God, your slutty throat takes me so well.." You groaned, her eyes pooled with tears as your cock hit the back of her mouth. Sliding down her throat as you pulled back and forth, "You want my cum in your stomach?" She tried to nod, struggling against the frequent assault. "Too bad, you don't deserve it in anywhere but that cunt of yours." You moaned, her hands trapped against her side as you used her.

You grew bored of her greedy throat, pulling out the slick cavern. Saliva dripped against the floor as your cock was now dirty in her spit. Jinsoul started to catch her breath, heaving as she coughed up more saliva onto the carpet. Your hand grabbed her collar, picking her up as she looked at you with a pitch black lust. "Sir.. I'm so wet, please.." Her voice was whiny, hand tugging at your shirt. "Fuck me." You had to comply, cleaning off the desk as the equipment rained down onto the floor.

Jinsoul fell against the desk, body hitting the surface as she laid there. "I'm going to keep this uniform on you slut." The way she looked in her uniform was irresistible, moving the soiled fabric between her legs to the right, cock rubbing against the eager folds. Soft and supple as it coated your tip, you lined up with her hole. "I'm going to penetrate this cunt, make you regret ever disrupting my class." You pressed in. A shared moan erupting in the classroom as you entered her tightness.

You and Jinsoul had sex several times before, she was always tight but this was different. Clenching against your cock, suffocating it as you were drowned in her juices. This angle made it hard to thrust into her, an uphill battle that was rewarded with hitting her g-spot. "Yes s-sir! Ram that cock into me!" She begged, locking eyes with you as you entered and left her gripping walls. Balls slamming against the desk as you thrusted into her wanton body.

"Jinsoul!" You accidentally called her name, hand reaching towards her mouth. "Open up." Her mouth complied, finger weaseling in as her tongue licked it. Sucking on your digit as you slammed into her crotch, cunt reddening as every slap of your body drove her wild.

Her earlier head made you sensitive under the cunt of your student. "I'm gonna cum!! Fuck!" You blew into her body, spurts of semen shot up into womb as you pulled out, dripping onto the classroom ground.

"Thank you Y/N, you are an excellent actor." She said, kissing you passionately.

[thecloudsaremyhome]

☆Yandere platonic cult x reader part 1☆

Summary: you and your friends have been forced to go on a trip to Sweden so they could finish their research paper for extra credit, honestly you were just tagging along for the fun of it not having the chance to go out as much as you’d like to, little did you know your stay at the community would be long overdue.

Tw: religious themes, sacrifice, yandere themes, infantization, death, violence, manipulation. the cult is very yandere for you, mental health issues, panic attack,readers friends are rude.

Word count: 8k

“Come on (name)! Hurry up! We ain’t got all day!” You sigh in annoyance as you look towards your friends and yell back, “I’m coming jeez! Jeez, give me a second okay!”

Your friends look at you with an annoyed expression but shrug it off. You carefully pull your luggage out from the trunk of the rental car you all rode in.

Honestly, it was already exhausting enough having to fly in a plane for 6-7 hours straight and the worst part is, is that you didn’t get one ounce of sleep thanks to your friend's snoring.

So not only are you physically exhausted but you're mentally as well. Just great.

You sigh in relief as your finally able to get your last piece of luggage out of the van.

you close the trunk door and decide to observe the scenery around you. It’s magnificent, you think to yourself.

From the tall yellow-like grass to the crops growing nearby filled with vegetables and fruits.

Then there are colorful flowers of all types surrounding the other side of the field, each being carefully taken care of to the fullest extent.

It mesmerized you To be honest, you've never seen anything this beautiful before, the only extent is the park in the middle of your city and even that can never compare to what you are looking at right now. No wonder people say Sweden is one of the most beautiful places to be because it hasn't been tainted by technology.

The sun reflects down onto you and you can feel the heat radiating off of your skin, but luckily there is a strong breeze to soothe that heat, it's perfect weather today you think to yourself as you continue to admire the fields surrounding around you and your friends, it seems like its endless.

“(name)! Get your ass over here! We ain't got time to dilly dally.” your friend says in an annoyed tone.

You snap out of your trance-like gaze and look towards your three friends, you sigh in annoyance as you pick up your backpack and suitcase and walk over back towards them.

“finally took you long enough.” your friend Mia says in annoyance scanning your form in a scrutinizing gaze, she was always the more moody one out of your group of friends, always having a stick up her ass.

She had dark brown curly hair and hazel irises with freckles littering her tan-like face, she was mostly slender having some curves here and there. “sorry I just got distracted by the scenery.”

you mumble annoyed at her attitude, Mia rolls her eyes, and states

“whatever let's get a move on before it hits sundown I want to get this shit over with anyways.”

Your two other friends Jacob and Cady nod reluctantly cady has long ginger hair with freckles and brown eyes while Jacob has dark brown hair with blue eyes and a more slim build.

and thus began your walk down the fields toward the desolate forest ahead.

“Mia, do you even know where we are going? Did the professor even provide us a map at all?”

you ask nervously having this gut feeling that nothing good is going to come ahead but maybe it's just a feeling.

You haven't really traveled outside of the U.S before so maybe it's just the anxiety of being in new places?

“yes actually i do know where we are going, don't be such a scardy pants and yes the professor sent me the map since I am the team leader.”

she taunts you sigh rolling your eyes at her cocky behavior.

You four continue down the long rocky path which results in you taking a look at the surrounding forest.

The forest honestly had humongous trees well bigger than the trees you've seen before when growing up, which caused the tree's height to block out most of the sunlight.

The rocky terrain your walking on looks worn down like it's been used for years which it probably has. What amazes you the most is how many flowers and wildlife are in the forest your walking through.

Youve honestly never seen so many animals in your life just from being here for liek 30 minutes it truly impresses you.

You occasionally glance at some of the logs or cut-down tree stumps next to the path finding interest in whatever inhabitants are abiding in it.

But you shake your head trying not to get to side tracked while you're here.

You're not here to explore the forest or play with the wildlife your here to work, so that's what you're going to do.

After a least an hour of walking and complaining from Cady you four finally arrive at what looks to be like a wooden gate with two strange-looking people standing in front of it with spears and animal like mask?

Okay well that's very creepy, “what the fuck”

you heard your friend jason mutter in absolute disbelief. It seems he was just a shocked as you but it seems like mia is paying no mind to it as she flaunts towards the gait confidently looking over the two guards and their appearance, you do the same but from a safe distance.

They both seem like males that's for sure from their muscular build to the lack of clothing they are wearing, it seems they are wearing on robes with metal plates on their shoulders acting as a shield.

What you also take notice of is both of them have a wolf mask.

What is even more strange, one of the guards has long wavy blonde hair while the other has short dirty blonde hair. Maybe there siblings?

You shake your head trying to rid your thoughts before you start to overthinking, you refocus back on the scene of Mia trying to flirt with the blonde-haired guard.

Which makes your two other friends sigh in annoyance at her behavior.

You three walk over to where mia is standing infront of the two guards, cady then clears he throat in annoyance

“you done mia so we can get a move on?” mia sighs at cady comments and nods her head

“yes in fact i am done i was just conversing with these two gentleman~ here but they've been ignoring me like a brick wall! And the worst part is, is that they won't even let me in!” mia states dramatically, whining like a puny child.

This causes Cady and Jacob to raise their eyebrow in confusion at her statement of not allowing her inside.

“they won’t? Why the hell not did you tell them that we came here for the research paper? Surely the professor notified the community of our arrival right?” Jacob states in pure bewilderment.

“I don't fucking know I tried to tell them! But nothing seems to go through to them! Like i said their brick walls!”

Mia states loudly which causes you to flinch from her tone of voice which of course your friends don't notice as they start to argue acting as if they arent just talking about the guards in front of them.

You sigh ignoring your friend's argument as you decide to step forward toward the two guards

“Hello there! Me and my friends here are here for a research project on your community, i don't know if you are aware of it or not? But could you please let us in?”

You state nervously, finally the guards look towards you and examine you like your a piece of prey, which unnerves you, to say the least.

But what surprises you the most is when the blonde-haired one speaks.

“So you are the one’s the great one has spoken about”

the blonde man states looking at you with a blank and unnerving expression behind the mask not that you could see or notice it though.

“I-i um yes?” you say confused about who the great one is.

The guards notice this and nod reaching to unlock the wooden gate this of course catches the attention of your arguing friends.

They turn to look at the two guards and you with a surprised look but quickly school it to a neutral one not wanting to piss the guards off.

When the gate finally opens to another pathway straight ahead your friends take this opportunity to push past you and the guards and enter the community.

Of course, this startles you to some degree but you quickly are able to reign your cool.

You then quickly thank the guards before rushing after your three friends.

This action very much surprises the guards having been used to rude and disrespectful behavior from “outsiders” so you doing behaving the opposite of disrespectfully is surprising to both guards but it also is nice that there are at least still some good people out there in the corrupted world outside of their sanctuary, its refreshing to say the least.

You sigh tiredly as you finally catch up with your three friends as they continue to walk down the more clean path.

You all finally make it towards what looks like a town square with a fountain in the middle and multiple other houses around it.

The houses look like they are made out of wood with a brick-like roof on the top of most of the houses. Strange you thought to yourself as you continued to examine the center of the community.

But you finally snapped out of your thoughts when Jacob nudges you in the shoulder to grab your attention. Which causes you to turn to look at him curiously.

That's when you notice the multiple stares directed at you and your friends.

You then look towards the source of those stares and find yourself faced with multiple people surrounding you and your friends, all of them having animal-like masks on.

But what catches your attention the most is the tall lady at the center of the people surrounding you.

She seems to be at least 6 feet tall with her long chocolate-like brown hair flowing down her back with her being nothing but dressed in a pure white dress with golden patterns to it that reaches her feet.

That's when you notice she's barefoot as well.

Strange you think to yourself but you snap out of your thoughts again when the lady clears her throat.

“hello their visitors you must be the foreigners our leader has spoken of, we are enlightened to be in your presence i hope you have a wonderful stay here. I will have one of our members show you towards your sleeping quarters.”

and with that before you and your friends coil question her at all she takes her lead with some of the community members following suit behind her.

“That was strange” Cady muttered anxiously “Yeah no shit” Mia states looking at the community members in a scrutinizing gaze.

You sigh ignoring your friends' spiteful comments, you then hear someone clear their throat which stops your friend's rant.

“if you all are done, I will be showing you to your sleeping quarters.”

you then gaze at the person speaking in a monotone like voice and are met with a tall slim man dressed in a similar fashion to the other community members just with a cow like mask to his face.

Your friends clearly embarrassed clear their throats and mutter a quick apology before returning their gazes to the man.

The man nods approvingly paying them no mind as he starts to walk down the town square, towards where you four will presumably be staying.

You and your friends follow after him at a steady pace.

Of course, you are more distracted than your other three friends, with the agriculture the community has to offer.

This annoys your friends of course but they do not say anything about it.

You four continue to walk down the cement path trailing behind the man. You all start to walk more towards the outskirts area of the community.

after a few more minutes of walking you four come face to face with a cabin-like structure that’s smaller than the houses the community has to offer.

It has a rustic type look with cobwebs poking out on the outside of the porch.

The porch in itself looks like it could've seen better days with some chipped wood poking out with dents on it.

It clearly looks like it has not had inhabitants for years now.

The condition of the cabin causes your friends especially Mia to grimace in disgust.

“Is this seriously what we have to stay in!” Mia states loudly, glaring at the man.

This causes the man to turn back towards her looking at her as if she's a spec of dirt underneath his shoe.

“Would you like to say that again?” he says coldly which causes Mia to flinch as she stutters out “I-I u-um N-never m-mind.”

the man then scoffs but pays her no mind as he walks towards the cabin.

You sigh as you reluctantly follow after him with your three shell-shocked friends. You both stand behind him as he unlocks the door with a wooden-like key, he opens it and motions you all to step inside.

Mia then sighs and steps inside first followed by cady and josh then yourself once you enter you take a good look at the interior presented in front of you.

Its old thats for sure from the rustic interior and the dusty floor all the way to the cobwebs littering the place with broken furniture and a animal like rug placed infront of the living room randomly.

Alomsot like someone didint even want to bother to atleast hide it or place it correctly.

Mia sneers at the predicament clearly unsatisfied with the conditions presented to her. “What the fuck is this shit show?”

she esclaims loudly which causes you to flinch at her loud outburst which doesnt go unnoticed by the man.

He glares at her disapproingly “i suggest you lower your voice and watch your language young lady that is no way to speak to your elders.”

he says calmly but with a hint of annoyance to his tone.

Mia looks baffled by the way he is treating her like some sort of child which of course angers her causing her face to heat up in embarrassment.

Cady and jacob start giggling at her sudden embarrassment finding it amusing that their friend is getting put in her place. You sigh at mia’s obvious childish behavior.

“I apologize for mia’s childish behavior she shouldnt have acted out like that.’”

you say with a tired tone looking at the man waiting for at least a irritated or unbothered response instead your surprised when his gaze softens towards you “oh its alright honey you friends are vert rumbunchs but nothing that we can’t handle”

he says softly with an almost fatherly look in his eyes from what you can tell.

This causes you to flinch not used to nicknames you stutter out an embarsset response which of course he notices and chuckles in amusement.

“your a shy thing arent ya? It’s very cute.” he says in a playful tone which causes you to blush in embarrassment.

Your friends awkwardly stand by as the conversation between you and the man unfolds, Mia then butts in and clears her throat before looking at the man “I think we're fine here its starting to get dark and we still have to unpack.”

she states in an annoyed tone clearly not wanting to be around the man any longer than she had to.

This of course disappoints you having enjoyed the man's company but you push the feelings aside.

The man turns around again to face mia and stares at her indifferently “Very well then have a good night and please if you all need anything, just ask you are our guests after all,”

he says in a dark tone which causes shivers to run up your spine but you shake it.

finally the man exists through the front door leaving you and your friends in a tense silence.

“Well, that was creepy.” Cady says with a nervous tone to her voice.

Jacob nods his head in agreement “Yeah no fucking kidding this whole place is giving off bad vibes and the way they talk to us is patronizing.”

Jacob said in an annoyed tone clearly irritated by the whole ordeal.

“let's calm down okay? How about we start unpacking our stuff and get a good look at this place?”

i say with a skittish tone trying to calm down the clearly pliable tension.

“Fine whatever” cady states as she puts her duffle bag and suitcase on the ground and moves towards the kitchen.

Jacob does the same following behind Cady which leaves you and Mia alone.

“Mia you okay?” I say in a worried tone not used to Mia being so quiet throughout the whole ordeal. “ yeah I'm fine.”

she says in an annoyed tone which causes you to flinch.

It doesn't go unnoticed by Mia as she smirks in response, she then turns around towards the old couches and places her backpack, duffle bag, and suitcase on the dusty couch.

You sigh setting down your luggage near hers as you decide to explore, not wanting to make the tension worse.

You decided on going down the hallway nearest to the kitchen, deciding its the best option to explore first. You could find some bedrooms, This cabin is pretty big after all.

You sigh as you slowly start to trudge down the dark hallway you finally approach what looks to be an old door clearly worn down from the lack of usage.

You reach your hand out to grab the door nob but before you can you hear a loud bang coming from the kitchen which causes you to jump in surprise. You rush back towards the kitchen panting.

“What was that noise what happened.” you say in worry, only for Cady and Jacob to laugh.

“jeez such a scardy pants, aren't you? Dont worry, Jacob just accidentally dropped the pan we were gonna use to cook.”

Cady says in a teasing tone while she playfully smacks Jacob on the shoulder. Jacob sighs, annoyed and glares at her which earns another laugh from Cady.

You sigh in relief “s-sorry just something about this place keeps me on edge,” you say as you try to laugh it off to lighten the atmosphere.

Which of course doesn’t work as Cary shakes her head In Amusement before turning back around to start cooking.

You sigh in annoyance as you leave the kitchen, deciding to at least find a bedroom you can lie in, completely forgetting about the door you were previously going to open.

You walk down the opposite hallway and finally find one of the bedrooms, which is pretty extravagant to say the least compared to the rest of the house.

You look at it in shock, from the pure red blood bed sheets with golden tips to the golden headboard with silver butterfly piercings indented into it.

Then, there's the pure white carpet placed in the center of the room. Finally, there is a wooden closet at the end of the room.

You gasp in shock at how pretty it is before taking notice of the basket of fruit placed directly on the bed. You tilt your head in confusion before finally entering the room.

You approach the basket placed on the bed and finally take notice on a note placed next to it, written in another language.

Whatever you think to yourself as you decide, you should show the rest of your friends the basket.

“Hey guys I found this basket in one of the bedrooms!”

You say as you finally enter the kitchen, which causes Cady and Jacob to turn their heads towards me in curiosity. “Oh, you did What's in it? Let me see,”

Jacob says as he snatches the basket from your hands and searches through it.

Cady sighs in annoyance at his eager behavior.

“Damn it theirs nothing interesting in here just a bunch of fruit and crap.” jacob sighs in annoyance and throws the basket back towards me which causes me to stumble and catch it.

Cady glares at jacob “ stop being an ass jacob” jacob rolls his eyes and mumbkes a whatever before getting back to cooking with cady.

You sigh as you exit the kitchen and enter the living room. You place down the basket next to Mia.

you notice her annoyed expression. “Whats wrong Mia?” mia look towards you and shakes her head in defeat “i cant get any damn service out here!”

you chuckle at her whining behavior in return she pouts towards you but finally takes notice of the basket next to you both “whats that?” she says as she points towards the basket.

“It's just something I found in one of the bedrooms I came across while exploring i dont think it has anything interesting in it all it has is fresh fruit.”

Mia sighs and nods before standing up to grab her backpack and open her laptop and grab her papers.

“since dinner's cooking do you wanna help me fill out these papers, the professor said we had to document everything so might as well start.”

you nod your head in agreement mumbling a sure before being handed a few papers to help fill out.

Finally, for what seems like an hour, cady comes back towards you both to inform you guys dinner is ready which causes you and Mia to sigh in relief.

You both make your way towards the kitchen, which has four plates of pasta placed out on the counter for you all to grab you and mia mutter a thanks as you make you way back towards the couch to coutinue your work, which leaves Cady and Jacob to eat together.

After three more hours of work you and mia finally completed the worksheets needed for today sighing in relief you then state

“I’m going to go and get ready for bed ill see you tommrow mia, dont try and overwork yourself okay? You need to get rest as well since we have a busy day tomorrow.”

mia sighs in annoyance at your worry and nods “yeah yeah dont worry about me just get to bed sleepy head”

you sigh at her nickname and nod your head in amusement as you rab your luggage from the couch and make your way to one of the bedrooms in the cabin.

You pass Jacobs and Cady's room, them having already fallen asleep beforehand.

You finally approach the bedroom you explored beforehand, having decided you'll just sleep in there for the night.

But before you can enter, you hear a strange noise coming from inside,which causes you to halt in your footsteps.

Suddenly, you feel like you're being watched, which causes a shiver to go down your spine. You shake off the feeling before finally entering the bedroom again.

You place down your luggage next to the wooden closet. You sigh as you crouch down next to your suitcase and open it to grab a fresh pair of pajamas and your medication for the night.

You finally finish changing as you hop into bed, laying down on the plush pillows You reluctantly try to fall asleep.

You still feel like you're being watched, but this time, you can't brush the feeling off, which heightens your anxiety.

But after an hour of staying awake, you finally fall asleep only to be woken up again by the noise of the door to the bedroom being opened, which causes you to freeze, you then hear quiet footsteps approach your bed which causes you to hold your breath silently.

You then feel a cold hand on your forehead caressing you like a parent would to your child as the figure starts to hum a soft lullaby which reluctantly causes you to drift back asleep.

But before you fall asleep you hear one last word from the person “dont worry baby youll be home soon.” but before you can process the words you fall asleep.

You yawn as you open your eyes to the sun drifting into the room through the slightly cracked window placed next to your bed.

You rub your eyes in exhaustment as you sit up to look around in the room. What catches your attention though is the piece stuffed animal placed next to your bedside table.

You widden your eyes at the plush lamb finding it absolutely cute your carefully pick it up and inspect it before placing it down on your bed deciding to keep it.

You stand up from the bed ad yawn walking towards your suitcase to grab your clothes.

You finally finish changing and step out of your bedroom as you walk towards the kitchen were jacob and cady are up conversing while mia is doing her makeup in the living room.

“Hey sleepyhead did you sleep well?”

cady says in amusement which causes you to nod hesotantly still thinking abou the events that happened last night.

“well we got a busy day today so you better be prepared to walk alot!”

jacob says as he bites out of a piece of bacon presented on the counters which you nod in agreement.

Mia finally exits the living room “are you guys ready to go? I already have the gear ready so we can document.” you, cady and jacob nod in agreement.

You then go towards the living room to grab some of the gear with the help of Jacob and cady.

You all then exit the cabin and walk down the same long pathway towards the town square of the community.

You sigh in relief as you all finally enter the twon square which causes the commonity members to stare at you all as you enter.

“what’s first on the list of stuff we have to do?” you ask in curiosity “well first we have to gather information on the resources they grow and make here so maybe we hould interview some of the farmers first?”

mia says qustionly, you nod your head in agreement. Jacob and Cady also nod their head, agreeing with Mia.

“alright then, off to the fields we go!” mia says as she approaches a female wearing a lamb mask. “excuse me Ms. if you dont mind could you point us in the direction of the feilds were the farmers work?” mia asks confidently which causes the female to nod and point ahead downanother path.

Mia mutters a thank you and walks off. You three follow behind her as you examine your surroundings.

But you can't help but feel like you're being watched again, which causes you to look around frantically, paranoia creeping up on you.

Finally, after a long walk, you four make it to the grass fields were some community members farm fruit and vegetables. This amazes you, to say the least, on how much effort these people put in to keep the community afloat.

“Okay, (name) you can stay here while we go and interview some of the farmers. Don't wander off, okay?”

You nod in agreement as your friends walk ahead and leave you on your own. But something catches your attention.

A community member struggling with a basket of fruit. You rush over to help her with the basket as you help her put it down.

Then you take notice of how old she looks and a worry look crosses your face.

“oh well thank you dearie for the help my old back hasnt been like it used to be when i was younger.” the woman says in a motherly tone smiling warmly at you behind the tiger mask over her face.

“Its no problem, ma’am im just glad i could help. Is your back okay?” you say in a worried tone. Which causes her to chuckle in amusement. “Oh, im perfectly fine dearie ive been through worse but i do appreciate your help this is the first time outsiders have been as nice as you.” you stare at her in confusion at her statement which causes her tone to turn solemnly.

“we haven’t had the best experience with outsiders as a whole. There have been few that have been here before hand that werent the nicest but of course, we took care of them!”

you look at her sympathetically, but her last sentence catches you off guard. What could she have meant by that? But before you could ask her, she was already walking away.

You sigh in annoyance but shrug it off, deciding to sit down in the grass fields and wait patiently for your friends to return. Hopefully, they’ll be back soon, you think to yourself as you gaze up at the sun.

fiddling with the dandelion in your hand as you slowly start to doze off. But before you could fully fall aslee,p you feel a small tug on your shirt.

And you're surprised to be faced with a child no older than 6 sitting next to you and fiddling with your shirt. You hadn't even heard him approach you. But you smile softly at him, which causes the little boy to flinch.

From what you can tell, he has strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes with the same white dress that you see all the other members wear he also wears a bird like mask on his face.

“hi, little one do you need something?” you say in an affectionate tone.

You always did have a soft spot for kids. He looks up at you in wonder before muttering, “I... I like your s-shirt,” he says timidly, which causes you to soften your gaze at his timid nature.

You carefully pick him up and set him in your lap.

He continues to fiddle with your shirt as he cuddles against you, which causes you to chuckle as you comb your fingers through his silky soft hair.

He cuddles closer to you before finally falling asleep. The scene just looks to serene and feels so peaceful.

You don't remember the last time you felt like this. Felt at peace.

But of course that peace has to be interrupted at some point as your about to close your eyes, you hear the talking if your friends as they approach you.

I guess they finished you think to yourself.

The noise causes the little boy to wake up in confusion but when he sees your friends approaching his grip on your shirt tightens as he galres at them This suprises you of course.

Your friends stop in their tracks as they quietly wisper to each other but to break the tense silence,e you wave them over.

They hesitantly approach causing the little boy to glare even more,e but he still grips onto your shirt.

“hey guys, are you done doing interviews with the farmers?” you say hesitantly trying to ease the tension forming. “yeah, we finished.” Jacob says sharply, and you can sense hes on edge, which causes you to furrow your brows in concern.

“Did something happen? You all seem..tense.” you say in concern as you inspect them. “Well-” but before Jacob could finish what he was saying Mia interrupted him sending a glare to jacob “nothing happened, so you dont need to worry now lets continue our interview so we can get it done before the so-called banquet we were invited to tonight.”

Mia says in a snipped tone clearly not wanting to waste any more time. You flinch at her harsh tone and nod reluctantly in agreement.

Your flinch doesn't go unnoticed by the little boy though as he glares even harder at your friends.

Of course, this goes unnoticed by you, but your friends do clearly notice and their shoulders tense at the harsh glare the boy is receiving to them.

You grab the little boy and place him off of your lap and stand up and dust the grass off your clothes. This causes the boy to pout behind the mask, having wanted to stay next to you a little more longer. But he doesn't voice this because he doesn't want to upset you, you ruffle his hair as you turn to face your friends as you happily converse with them.

But unnoticed to you the boy is having an inner turmoil of his own. Why do they have to capture your attention.

You shouldnt even be looking in their direction your friends are just a waste of space, not worthy of your presence because your his, his sister and he would be damned to let these insects ruin that.

Mama always have said outsiders are nasty people and now hes starting to believe it. But he hopes you can stay here forever with him and the community. Hes sure youd be very very happy.

Plus it's not like you’d miss your own boring life anyways right? You could have everything you need here. A loving community that is ready to do whatever it takes to keep you. And he hopes that that's what his community decides to do. Because he wants you to stay no matter what it takes.

You're extremely tired after four long hours of interviews and interactions with the other community members, you're finally glad the banquet came around the corner faster than expected because you were starting to grow extremely hungry.

Of course you weren’t the only one you noticed how antsy Jacob has been getting, clearly he’s hungry as well.

But the strange is that the little boy from earlier has been following you like a lost puppy which is cute of course but it still bothers you that his parents havent come looking for him at all and when you asked him he just said

“mama and papa are just busy! But thdey know im safe!” which of course has you smiling in relief but you still held that sense of worry.

As the hours stretched on your finally learnt his name, it was Abner. It was a cute name to say the least. But back to the present at hand, you four finally finished all interview needed for the first day and were getting ready for the banquet at 9:00. Which of course, Mia told us we had to dress “presentable” whatever the hell that means.

Of course, you didnt pack anything presentable to her standards so you opted for a black dress shirt and some formal pants with sneakers.

You sigh in contempt as you finally finish brushing out your hair and styling it.

You then exit your room. Then head towards the living room to wait for the rest of your friends to finish getting ready. You then spot jacob already dressed and ready to go as he scrolls on his phone.

Your smile softens when yo see him you then take a seat next to him on the old couch. He notices your presence and smirks “ look at you all fancy looking you look hot.” he jokes as you nudge him in the shoulder, playfully muttering a shut up.

After 30 more minutes of waiting Mia and Cady finally enter the room in ruffles dresses and high heels you sigh and roll your eyes at their so called “presentable outfit” “that’s what you all are gonna wear its not a ball you know?” you say jokily which earns you a galre from Mia and a scoff.

You chuckle again, putting your hands up in mock surrender but before mia could respond cady cuts in.

“stop teasing okay? We have to get a move on so we wont be late we are meeting with the leaders of this so called community. So we have to make a good impresion so we can get as much information as possible so we can pass this extra credit.”

Cady states sternly which causes you all to nod your heads reluctantly in agreement. Not wanting to argue any further you and jacob stand up and make your way to the front door ready to go, cady and mia follow behind you two.

You four exit the cabin and make you way down the path leading towards the community center. You look up towards the moon shining down on all of you.

You’ve always been fascinated by the moon and how it reflects. In your opinion, you say its absolutely beautiful everything about this place is beautiful

Finally, after minutes of walking, you all arrive at the community center and walk towards another pathway leading towards the great hall, an imposing structure that is made out of wood.

After 5 minutes of walking, you all finally arrived at the entrance of the great hall You can see the light peeking out from the large imposing door.

You four walk up the wooden stairs, and Jacob opens the wooden door allowing you three to enter in first.

Mia goes in first then cady, then you as you finally enter the great hall you are in awe at the scenery and design of the place.

From the flower decorations hung up on the walls to the candles and fruits then their is white tablecloth placed on the tables with a bunch of fresh food.

From chicken and beef to vegetables and fruit. All sorts of varieties littered the table which makes your mouth water and your stomach grumble in hunger.

You then take notice of the statue of a naked man standing at the end of the room with a large star like window placed behind him.

It's amazing how people who only depended on natural resources could make all of this happen.

Then you noticed the hundreds, maybe thousands of stairs boring into your back. You look around, finally noticing the community members are not only staring at your friends but specifically at you. Which creeps you out, to say the least.

But what shocks you even more is the 6 imposing figures placed infront of the imposing statue placed infront of the star window. To say they are intimidating is an underestimating it, they loom absolutely terrifying.

But one of the members you recognize as the pretty lady from yesterday which makes you widen your eyes in shock. She catches your gaze a smiles softly standing up to approach you.

You stagger back in shock to shocked to speak “hello its nice to see you again foreigner i would like to request that you join us for supper our leader would like to formally meet you as well as our officials.”

You look at her in shock but realize that you don't have any room for argument, noticing the serious tone her voice holds.

So, with a heavy heart, you nod in agreement, which causes her to light up and smile warmly. She grabs your arm and pulls you forward which causes you to stagger back.

But you reluctantly follow her to the table she pulls the chair out for you and allows you to sit down next to a very tall man. She then takes her seat next to you

“our leader will be here very soon so please dont mind his tartiness. Oh! I never got to introduce myself! My name is Ezra! Whats your name little one.” you pause deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to tell her but you decide to.

“My name is (name).” you say timidly, which causes the female to coo at your shy nature. Which causes you to blush in embarrassment with earns a chuckle from the other 5 officals. Which makes you blush even more in embarrassment.

But before you could respond a the great hall door slams opens as the gaurds from yesterday are stationed next it, bowing to what seems like a very large man maybe 7 feet tall? With long dark white hair that looks almost unnatural, he is wearing something totally different a robe with golden pattern designs with black dress shoes with golden designs as well.

He wears a bear mask, and from what you can tell, he is very muscular and has baby-blue eyes.

This unnerves you, to say the least. He's very intimidating, with a golden robe hanging off the side of his shoulder, and his steps seem precise and planned.

This also unnerves your friends as they glance nervously at you. But you notice the man is staring right at you. His eyes bore into your very soul with an intensity that is so extreme that it makes you uncomfortable. What is his problem?

You think to yourself, nervously picking at your skin as the man approaches with steady footsteps, as all the community members stand up to bow before his presence like he's some sort of god.

This unnerves you even more as his eyes continue to bore into you, analyzing every twitch and breath you make.

Finally he arrives at your table, standing right infront of you, ezra then stands up and bows the official sitting on the right of you does the same thing so does the other four officials.

But he doesn't respond to their formal behavior as he continues to stare at you motionlessly as you anziously pick at your skin.

He then reaches out and imoblizes your wrist from continuing to pick at your skin this leaves you in shock as you freeze in anxiety.

You can clearly see the size difference between the two of you. His hand can fit fully around your wrist like he could easily snap it at any time which scares you to say the least.

His intimidating frame adds even more to the tense atmosphere “ dont do that anymore child; you'll hurt your delicate skin, and we dont want that do we?” he says in a very soft tone which surprises you to say the least, not expecting his voice to sound so soft and velvety.

Which comforts you to some extent that hes not trying to intentionally scare you.

But he keeps a form hand on your wrist letting you know that he won't be letting go of it any time soon.

“I-i just do it out of habit i cant really control it sometimes when im really anxious.” you mutter timidly, not daring to face his gaze as he stares intently into you.

His gaze softens slightly, and he rubs circles into your wrist to soothe your growing anxiety.

Which doesn't exactly work as you can still feel him staring into you, including all the community members and your friends.

You’ve never liked being the center of attention so you're surprised you haven't gone into a full blown anxiety attack right now.

Maybe it's the way he's trying to ground you that prevents that from happening. You don't know, and you don't care you just want to get this over with so you can get back into that comfy bed and sleep.

But before you can dwell on the thoughts plaguing your mind you feel the mans hand let go of your wrist. He turns around to look at everyone else with a calculating look before that look softens to a more serene expression. “ let the feast begin!” he shouts.

He then walks over towards the seat standing right next to the statue. The chair looks more like a throne than anything with its golden pattern designs and the red velvet texture to it, you would think a king would sit on it.

You sigh as you snap out of your thoughts when a plate of food is placed infront of you with apple juice? The food looks absoulty delicious on your part.

From the perifcally roasted beaf with mash potatoes and vegetables on the side to the white rice with chicken in it. Damn you mutter under your breath as your mouth starts to salvate.

But then you take a look around and notice all the adults oncluding your freinds got some type of alcoholic beverage but you just got apple juice.

Thats weird you think to yourself but shrug it off not wanting to dwell on something not worth your time.

You start to dig into your food quickly which causes ezra to chuckle in amusement a she Coos at you.

“Don't eat so fast honey, we don't want you to choke do we?” this causes you to blush I. Emmbaresment putting your hea down in shame which causes her to chuckle even more. But when you took a sip of th apple juice it tasted very sour.

Which is weird but you shrug it off not bothering to worry about it but before you could take another bite, the chattering decreased in the great hall as the leader stans up to approach the center of the room, this of course catches your attention instantly.

“Brothers, and sisters daughters and mothers, fathers and sons tonight our banquet has been honored by the cesilatial god himself to bestow us and our community a blessing and so to thank him we will preform our ceremonial sacrificial ritual for our god and our guests as a thanks.”

he says in a soothing tone and you can tell his voice has a deep effect on these people her from their adoring looks to their devotion you can feel radiating off of them. It awes and unnerves you at the same time.

But what do they mean by a sacrafical ritual?

You think to yourself as you anxiety starts to grow. You look towards you friends who are sitting at a table near you and you also notice their anxious expressions.

But before you could dwell more on your thoughst the great hall door opens as two of the guards carry in a struggling woman.

Which makes you widen your eyes in shock and horror. The guards put down the woman oto the cement like structure of the statue and tie her in place.

Then you notice another community member come in with a large tray of candles a book and a dagger.

This unnerves you even more as you start to shakinly pick at your skin from the growing anxiety creeping up onto you.

What the fuck…what the fuck are they going to do to that poor woman. You think to yourself as you stare in horror at her as she screams and struggles and pleads.

This causes you to close your eyes and put your hands over your ears. You take shaking breaths as you feel an oncoming panic attack. But of course your friends don’t notice or are to shocked to care.

You return you sight to the scenes I front of you as the woman pleads but it falls on death ear as the leader grabs the dagger from the tray

“låt dem vara ljusa och låt vår gud ge dig gåvan av evigt stycke unge” he says to the woman before impaling the dagger in her lower stomach then into her right breast and finally into her forehead the blood from the stand leaks out of her lifeless limp body onto the floor.

You feel like your going to throw up as the community members stand up to clap in celebration like what he did was completely normal.

And you can’t hold it back anymore you dip down and realealse all what was in your stomach to begin with. You gag at the smell and pant feeling tears rolling down your eyes. Then you notice everyone is looking at you now again.

You need to get out of here now you think to yourself as you eyes look up towards your friends who are as equally shocked and disturbed at what took place.

But before you could say or do anything you feel the tightening hold of Ezra rubbing your back soothingly this disturbed you even more at how calm she could be when just witnessing a murder!

You can’t seem to wrap your head around it and your heart is pounding so fast you think you’d have a heart attack any second and maybe that would be for the better because you don’t know what’s going to happen next and you don’t want to find out.

You just need to get out of here now no matter what it takes you refuse to die.

Authors note: y’all I work so hard on this sooo please comment and like a lot I would like this to reach at least 1,000 likes that would be the world to me and I definitely am going to make part 2 which is way more darker and that’s where the more intense Yandere behavior comes in!

[wlwsoccerfics]

LionessesXDeafReader)

Warning: deaf reader

A/N : when i Put something in ' ' it means it's signed

Summary: you get called up for your first England Camp and people are not taking it well. the fact that you are Keira Walsh's Baby sister doesn't make it any either. And you start doubting If you even should be there.

You sit on a bean bag in the gaming/TV room at England Camp. It was just the first day. The comments you have read so far were mostly great and supportive under the Team list of who made the cut. But then you read comments about yourself. Lots of mean ones including:

'how is she supposed to win us anything? she can't even hear instructions!'

'she is only on the team cause of Keira. she must have put a good word in for y/n.'

'her on the Team feels like a charity case!'

There were lots more of those comments. Which only made your self doubt become worse. Even though if it was just a first full day everyone had noticed that you were acting distant. Especially towards your sister & on top of that Grace. Your girlfriend. You just wanted to focus on football. Deep down you knew you were able to play at this level. You were one of the Star Players at Arsenal. Yes you and your sister played for two different teams. So did you and your girlfriend. But your best friend Alessia was playing for Arsenal with you. While your girlfriend Grace was playing with your other best friend Tooney. If you weren't any good Sarina wouldn't have called you up to play for the lionesses. But still theres a part of you hurt by people thinking just because you were deaf that you couldn't do your job. In the last five games for Arsenal you scored 7 Goals. That alone was saying alot. Yet there were still people wanting to bring you down.

'you are avoiding me!' you see your girlfriend sign, she showed up out of nowhere so you put your phone away.

'i am not!' you look at her and frown.

'you are! you are also avoiding Keira, Less & Tooney. And basically everyone!' she was clearly concerned.

'grace i am fine. just let it go.'

The fact that you didn't use a cute pet name for her was confirmation enough that something was totally not right.

Less and Tooney were also in the room, looking over at the two of you. they knew something was up as soon as you said you didn't want to play cards with them. And the discussion you had with Grace only confirmed that for them as well.

At the same time with Keira, Leah and Lucy...

"Keira, i think i know why your sister is keeping to herself." Lucy told her. Handing her Phone over to her. Showing the comments under the Squad post that are related to you.

"that's nasty!" Leah said, after Keira wordlessly showed them to her.

"i hope she knows that this Is crap. Nothing about this Is true!" Keira stated.

"well you should try and talk to her about that." Lucy replied.

'yeah either you do it or i will. If we wait for too long she is gonna Spiral!" Your England Captain and Arsenal teammate said.

"i will talk to her, don't worry about it." Keira let them know and then went to look for you.

She found you and Grace still arguing. Looking over at Less & Tooney.

"what is this about?" Keira asked your two best friends.

"y/n is claiming how fine things are and that she is not avoiding anyone! Even though we all know she is!" Tooney stated.

"they going back and forth now for almost 20 minutes!" Alessia explained.

"i want to know why she is avoiding us." Tooney stated and Keira grabbed her own Phone to show her and Lessi.

"Lucy thinks this might be the reason and honestly i think so too!" Keira let them know.

"oh my god. This Is terrible. And not true! She deserves to be here!" Alessia stated.

"which is why i will talk to her now." Your sister answered.

The Talk with Grace has gotten to a point where you both have gotten frustrated with one another that you stood up and wanted to race past your sister but Keira quickly grabbed your hand.

'stay. We need to Talk.'

'no we don't!'

'you do need to start letting us in on what's happening.' Alessia looked at you. Worry written across her face.

'fine. what do you want to know?'

'why you are acting this way. You avoiding us is not normal.'

'i don't belong here.'

'so it's about the comments!' Keira let out a soft sigh. Grace now standing next to you.

'what comments?' she wanted to know. Keira showing her the comments. Grace looked mad now.

'those comments are not true! you are amazing and you deserve this place in the Team!' Grace let you know.

'deep down i know. but those comments still hurt. i just want to show them how wrong they are!'

'then let's do that!' Tooney smiled at you.

The team put out a Statement that there is no place for bullying in any form. And that people who are disrespectful towards the players, especially the Younger ones Like you (you were only 22 years old) shouldn't watch the games.

You could Show them what you are made of during a Game against Portugal were you scored two Goals during your debut which sure did shut up the haters. Getting praised by your teammates and Sarina.

You couldn't hear but your eyes were working perfectly fine.

[muqingslover]

Hi! If you're open to requests, what would you think the lads men (or just one guy of your choice!!) would do in the following scenario?

They are out with mc when they run into mc's ex, and mc's ex says, "Damn, your taste in men changed a lot" in like a condescending manner. (Or something along those lines)

I hope you have a great time!! I love reading your stories!!

[ Thank you for the request! <3 I did a little of everyone so enjoy! ]

Sylus

"Your tastes sure have changed since the last time I saw you." is the first thing that actually catches his attention during the otherwise boring conversation.

Sylus is not an overly jealous person simply because he is very secure of his love for you and how good he is to you. The only thing your ex does is greatly amuse him because the difference is too great to even be considered fair.

"Naturally. You surely don't expect someone to eat trash forever, do you?" He would answer for you in a smooth voice while he towers over the both of you with that confident expression of his on his face.

He feels almost sorry for you, who had to make do with such men, but, not to worry, he's here now and he's not going anywhere.

Xavier

Taunting his jealous side is the same as playing with fire while knowing you're going to get burn.

"Is that the type of guy you prefer?" He'd ask the second the two of you are alone again. His hands pin you to the closest surface so you're unable to run from the conversation and he keeps his face very close to yours to watch for even the smallest reactions "Do you like him more than me?"

My advice? Say no as quickly as possible and give him a kiss to shush him otherwise you're in for the long, loooooong haul. Xavier is not easily soothed once he's worked up and he WILL hold grudges.

The next time your ex shows up he is quick to cut the conversation before they can even get a good morning in and makes it clear you belong to him now.

Rafayel

"What did you just say?" His head never whipped back faster mans almost twisted his own neck.

Arguably the most aggressive per se because he's SO obvious. To him it's just staggering you ever went out with anyone else, especially a thing like that, and that it's here, again, approaching you. Does it not see him? He's right there for god's sake!

"She's on duty so she can't talk to you right now. Or ever." He'd grab you by the shoulder as he sized the guy up and down with the most condescending and judgmental look on his face before scoffing. what a diva

He'll nag at you later for being "distracted while on the job" and say you're supposed to pay attention to him at all times otherwise how will his dear bodyguard protect him? Please be more mindful!

Caleb

It was a school reunion party when your old high school sweetheart came up to the both of you.

"Oh hey, I remember you! Weren't you the guy who got kicked out for cheating on his graduation exam?" He says with an innocent grin on his face knowing full well the guy is a deadbeat and making sure others heard it too.

It's canon he kept track of all crushes MC had while growing up and I'm sure he goes out of his way to show you their bad points so you won't even consider looking their way.

In some cases, Caleb had to get rid of them by manipulating things behind the scenes if they didn't take the hint and this one was one of those cases.

The guy was struggling with his grades and who is he to deny a helping hand? All he did was slip the sheet of answers to the test without anyone knowing, it's not his fault if the idiot accepted it knowing it was against the rules. Such an angel, isn't he.

This interaction will lead to him being even more territorial around you and he wants you to just stay home with him where it's safe. Pretty please?

Zayne

He will step in if they are bothering you by pretending he needs your immediate help in the office but otherwise Zayne merely listening in the background.

Once they're gone the silence is so loud.

You can basically feel that he's bothered by something, but he won't open his mouth even if you ask him about it because it's 'petty and childish'.

"Are you happy with me?" He'd eventually ask you after stewing in his own thoughts for the day. What if your tastes hadn't changed and you were just too nice to tell him he's not doing enough? That he is not enough.

Please reassure this sweet man that you're happy in the relationship. Especially so if your ex is the type that is super extroverted and easy to get along with since that's one of the points he struggles with the most.

The problem goes away on its own after some good quality time together and affectionate words.