#ask me or tell me anything i crave human connection

[dufrau]

I got summoned for jury duty for the second time in less than 3 years 🙃

Oh wild. I think in massachusetts you can be called once every 3 years but I have only been called twice in my entire life!

[m4rv3l-girl]

I can help

Bucky x Y/N

Y/N feels unwanted and Bucky can help…

Warnings: Touch starved reader and touch starved Bucky. Smut. Fingering. Oral f!receiving.

Bucky Barnes stood in the doorway of the cozy living room, the soft light from the pendant lamp casting a warm glow over the figure curled up on the couch. His eyes searched the room, taking in the familiar sight of his partner, Y/N, surrounded by a mountain of pillows and blankets. Her eyes were glued to the TV, but the flickering images couldn't mask the sadness etched on her face.

"What's wrong, doll?" Bucky asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

Y/N looked up, and for a brief moment, she seemed surprised by his presence. "Oh, it's nothing," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Bucky stepped closer, his boots making no sound on the plush carpet. "You know you can tell me anything, kitten," he said, sitting down beside her and placing a hand on her knee. His touch was comforting, a silent question that sought permission to delve deeper.

Y/N sighed and leaned into his side, her head resting against his shoulder. "It's just… I haven't… you know," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing a soft pink.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he studied her, his grip on her knee tightening slightly. "You haven't what, darling?"

Her eyes remained on the TV, avoiding his gaze. "Haven't had sex in a while," she finally said, the words barely a whisper. "It's just been a dry spell, I guess."

Understanding dawned on Bucky's face as he took in her words. Having experienced long periods of isolation and loneliness himself, he knew the feeling of being touch-starved all too well. He pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "How long, love?" he asked softly.

"Too long," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "It feels like everyone else is moving on with their lives, and I'm just stuck here, in this rut."

He brushed a lock of hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. "You're not alone in this," he assured her. "We all go through it sometimes."

The silence between them grew as he contemplated his own past, the lost time, and the warmth of her body beside his. He knew what it was like to crave human connection, to be desperate for the simplest of touches. His hand trailed down to her hip, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Let me help," he offered, his voice a low murmur in her ear.

Y/N tensed for a moment before relaxing into his embrace. She turned to look at him, her eyes searching his for any hint of judgment or pity. All she found was concern and care. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice small.

Bucky took a deep breath, his thumb tracing slow circles on her skin. "I know what it's like to feel unwanted, to feel like you're not enough," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "But you are. More than enough. And if you need someone to remind you of that, I'm here."

Her eyes filled with tears as she nodded. "I just… I don't know if I'm ready," she admitted, her voice trembling.

He leaned back, giving her the space she needed. "We can take it slow," he promised, his voice soothing. "Just tell me what you need, and we'll go from there."

Y/N took a moment to think, the weight of his words pressing against her chest. She knew Bucky was a man of action, but she also knew he was patient and kind. If he was willing to help her through this, she had to be willing to let him in. She looked into his eyes, the warmth and understanding reflected there, and took his hand. "Okay," she whispered. "Let's do this."

The air in the room grew thick with anticipation as Bucky leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. It was gentle, a promise of more to come. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Y/N felt a spark of life return to her, a warmth that had been missing for so long. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair.

He pulled away, his eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort. When he saw none, he began to pepper her neck with tender kisses, his hands roaming over her body with a newfound confidence. Y/N shivered, her breath hitching in her throat as she felt herself responding to his touch.

Bucky noticed the change in her and paused, his eyes locking onto hers. "Is this okay?" he murmured, his voice gruff with desire.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice a mere whisper. "More than okay."

Encouraged, he continued his exploration, each touch and kiss more intimate than the last. He was determined to show her that she was desired, that she was cherished. As they grew closer, the tension in the room began to dissolve, replaced by a warmth that radiated from their joined bodies.

The TV flickered in the background, forgotten as they lost themselves in the moment. Bucky's hand found the hem of her shirt, his fingers teasing the skin beneath. Y/N's heart raced as she felt his touch become more insistent, more urgent. She knew that this was just the beginning, and she was ready to let him in, to let him show her the passion she had been missing.

They stood together, their kisses growing more heated as clothes fell away. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breaths, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle that had been apart for far too long. Bucky picked her up, carrying her to the bedroom as if she weighed nothing at all.

His eyes never left hers, the connection between them unbroken.

Gently laying her down on the bed, he took a moment to appreciate the beauty before him. Her skin was flushed with desire, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability. He knew that this was a gift, one he would not take lightly.

With a soft smile, he joined her on the bed, his body covering hers as their kisses grew deeper. His hands moved over her, exploring every inch of her, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of her skin. Y/N arched into his touch, her body responding to his every caress.

Bucky's mouth trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her collarbone as he kissed and licked his way to her chest. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing her hardened nipples as she gasped. He took his time, savoring the sounds she made, the way her body moved beneath him.

He continued his descent, kissing her stomach and tracing the line of her hip before finally reaching the apex of her thighs. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with need, and asked, "Can I?"

Y/N's response was a nod, her eyes never leaving his. She watched as he kissed her inner thighs, his breath warm against her sensitive skin. He was slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. When his tongue finally touched her core, she gasped, her body jolting with pleasure.

Bucky took his time, tasting her, learning her, as if it was the first time. His tongue was gentle yet firm, his movements sure and steady. He listened to her whimpers, her sighs, taking cues from her body as it began to arch towards his. He was thorough, his mouth exploring every fold and crevice, leaving no part of her untouched.

He lapped at her clit with the flat of his tongue, the sensation making her hips jerk upward.

He chuckled darkly against her, the vibration sending a fresh wave of pleasure through her body.

His teeth grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves before he sucked on it, the pressure perfect. Y/N's hands fisted in the sheets, her body tightening as the pleasure grew.

Bucky's tongue delved into her, tasting her wetness, swirling around her entrance before retreating again to focus on her clit. His thumbs spread her wide, exposing her fully to his mouth. He devoured her with a hunger that was almost desperate, his tongue flicking and stroking with a skill that had her gasping for air.

He suckled her clit, the pressure just right, as his fingers slid into her wet warmth. He curled them in a come-hither motion, stroking her G-spot with precision that had her back arching off the bed. Y/N's breaths turned to moans, her hips rocking against his mouth as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

"You taste like fucking heaven, doll," he murmured against her, his voice thick with arousal. The crudeness of his words only served to excite her further, the sweetness of his sentiment shining through the vulgarity.

Y/N's cheeks burned, but she couldn't deny the thrill that shot through her as he spoke. "Bucky," she moaned, her voice breathless.

He paused, his eyes meeting hers with a smirk. "What's the matter, kitten?" he teased, his voice a low growl. "You like it when I talk dirty?"

Y/N nodded, unable to form coherent words as his fingers continued their magic. "Yes," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whimper.

"Good to know, darling," Bucky said, his grin turning wolfish as he went back to his task. "You're so wet, so fucking sweet," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her skin. His thumb began to rub circles around her clit as his fingers pumped in and out of her, the filthy words spilling from his lips as if they were a declaration of love.

"Your pussy's so tight around my fingers, Kitten" he groaned, his own arousal palpable. "So greedy. She’s hungry for it." He watched as she squirmed beneath him, her body responding to every lewd word and sensation. "You like that, don't you?"

Y/N nodded, her breath coming in gasps. "Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Bucky's grin grew wider as he felt her tighten around his fingers, her body begging for release. He knew exactly what she needed, and he was more than happy to give it to her. He kissed her inner thigh, his breath hot against her skin. "I've got you, darling," he murmured, his voice filled with sweet reassurance.

He increased the pace of his thumb, the circles growing tighter as he felt her approaching climax. His other hand slid up to cup her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple in time with the movements of his mouth. Y/N's eyes rolled back in her head, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

Her legs began to shake, her toes curling as she reached the peak. Bucky felt her body tighten around his fingers, the muscles of her thighs clenching as she came undone. A guttural sound escaped her throat, a mix of pleasure and relief. Her orgasm washed over her like a wave, crashing against the shore of their intimacy.

As the last tremors of her climax subsided, Bucky kissed his way up her thigh, his eyes never leaving hers. She watched, wide-eyed, as he moved over her, his face flushed and his eyes dark with lust. He took her mouth in a deep, claiming kiss, their bodies slick with sweat.

To her surprise, she felt the warm, wet proof of his own release on her thigh. She looked down to find that just the sight of her pleasure had been enough to make him cum. Her eyes went wide with shock and a newfound sense of power.

Y/N looked up at Bucky, who was watching her with a smug satisfaction, his eyes hooded and his breaths uneven. He leaned down to kiss her, a smudge of her own arousal on his lips.

"You're incredible," he murmured against her mouth, his voice thick with lust…

——————————————————————————————————

Requests Open!

[strang3lov3]

Underfoot

You get off on Roman's shoe.

Tags - dom!roman, smut, rough sex, gross sex, shoe humping/grinding, shoe licking, humiliation, degradation, masturbation, cum eating, biting, hitting, kicking, a sprinkling of ass play, nipple biting, dacryphilia, no aftercare we die like men, sex as sh, manipulative romey, bully romey calls you all sorts of nasty things, oneshot. Idk. believe it or not this is consensual. romey’s all fucknutty, reader has self esteem issues.  A/N - this one’s an acquired taste, i think. it made me squirm as i wrote it lol. This is a one shot and can be read alone buuuuut in my mind it works as a continuation of tear you apart. Thank you @cum-a-calla for holding my hand and @endlessthxxghts for betaing you sick fucks that i hold so dearly in my heart!

“You again, huh?” 

Roman’s lips curl into an amused smirk. He licks them as his eyes lazily scan down the length of your body, tracing the long, curved lines of your breasts and waist and hips. You pick at your nails and shift your weight between your two feet, a nervous tick. He loves that tick. “Yeah,” you mutter reluctantly. “Hi.” 

Roman grins. “Hi,” he says, and something about his voice mocks you. He’s good at that. Making you feel uncertain and squirm uncomfortably without saying much of anything. It’s all in the way he looks at you, how he smiles. You know it when you see it. It’s just him. 

You know what you’re here for, the same thing you always want when you visit him like this. The pain that walks the line between good hurt and bad hurt, the pleasure and the agony. That specific violence you crave, only from Roman’s hands. All that ache inside releases with the way he hits you hard enough to bruise, blood rushing to the surface. The drawing of your blood, skin burning in that horrible way that only he can ignite. Only Roman can scratch that itch, satisfy your raw, instinctive need to be hurt by him. 

It’s that strange intimacy, too. The way bodies connect, that vulnerable proximity that comes with breath shared, the faintest bit of tenderness that hangs through the air even when it’s wrapped in something darker. Your special little arrangement that only makes sense between the two of you. But it works, right?

The room is dark, lit only by lamps. It’s late and everyone’s gone home - should have, at least. But Roman, Roman’s still here. Lying on his stupid gray couch as if he was waiting for you, almost like he knew you’d be here. He probably did, honestly, how he knows you so well. In ways you don’t even know yourself. You wonder what tipped him off, what about you today told him that you’d show up for him to satisfy your shared, twisted craving. You could ask, but he’d never tell you. 

“Was wondering how long you’d make it without it,” Roman says, voice dripping with that smug superiority. “My little slut. Slut for pain,” he smirks.

Roman stretches then, neck craning over the armrest, back arching in a languid movement as he groans. You watch him, caught in the strange, raw beauty of the way he exists - so profoundly human, the folds in the fabric of his shirt shifting with his breaths. He looks so lovely like this, Like someone could love him. You could, honestly. Would be nothing new for you, the moth drawn to the flame. “Well, c’mon, then,” he snaps, the sharp command cutting through the quietness. “Quickly.”  

You know the rules. You’re naked and he is not. Never is. As you take off each of your garments, baring yourself completely to him, Roman unbuckles his belt and only pushes his pants just enough down his thighs. He does this just to fuck with you, twist the knife a little as he knows how badly you want to feel his skin on your skin, or the full weight of him on top of you. You want that, don’t you? Will you ever admit it?

You’ll only ever get fragments of Roman, scraps tossed at you like you’re a dog begging under the table. Enough of him to tide you over for the moment, never satisfying you fully. 

Roman spits into his palm before reaching for his cock, working it to its full length. “Fuck yourself first,” he says, voice flat, dismissive. “I’m really not in the mood to hear you bitching and moaning when it hurts, so. Do what you need to. It’s kinda supposed to hurt anyway, y’know. Guess you can add this to the list of favors I’ve done for you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

With two fingers, you trace your seam, already starting to drip with arousal and you hate yourself for it.

“Ah-ah. One finger. One. C’mon, you know better.”

Roman’s done this before. He likes the show of you fucking yourself with just one finger, knowing it’s not enough to prepare you for his cock. It doesn’t even do much to get you wet, really. It’s just another way for him to humiliate you or something, no real desire behind it. It’s all control, making you rub salt in your own wound. 

You push a single digit past your lips and slide it through your slick folds, circling your clit just once  “In,” Roman instructs, and you push your finger inside yourself, feeling your hot, throbbing insides, “And out,” Roman says, voice still irritatingly casual, like he’s watching a performance. But he is, isn’t he?

Roman squints slightly, eyes narrowing as he watches you fuck yourself, a lazy smile curlling at the corner of his lips. He continues to fuck his fist, all lazy and slow, like he’s bored, couldn’t give a shit. 

“Yeah, like that, sweetheart. Think that’s enough? That good?”

“I-”

“Changed my mind, I don’t care,” Roman interrupts with his tone clipped, cutting you off with a wave of his hand. “Just shut up and come here.” 

He sits up and slaps his thigh twice in invitation - or command, really - before reclining back against the couch, settling in as he folds his arms behind his head.

You hesitate for a moment, then move toward him, straddling his lap as his eyes flick over you. You grip his toned shoulders instinctively as you steady yourself. You reach between your bodies and touch the head of his cock, wet with his sticky precum, and line him up with your entrance. “Yep, like that. Down you fuckin’ go,” he says, hands finding your hips as he takes the liberty to force you down with a firm push. The sting is immediate and sharp, and you inhale slowly, breath catching in your throat as your eyes squeeze shut. Stars dancing behind your eyelids. You let out a long exhale to match. 

“Is that a new coping mechanism or something, huh?” Roman mocks. He shifts beneath you, adjusting so that he’s buried inside you completely, his smirk never faltering. “No, no, I’m kidding. That’s good, you know. Healthy.”

You hold onto the back of the couch, knowing better than to hold onto Roman. Can’t get too friendly, he says. He’s almost maniacal in this way, how he keeps you isolated while being inside you. Minimal contact. Everything he does, he does to you. You’re a vessel, he tells you. A fleshlight with a head attached. 

“Hey, right here. Focus right here for a second,” Roman grabs your jaw, digging his thumb and forefinger into the hollows of your cheeks, squeezing the flesh against your molars. “You remember the rules, right, sweetheart? You don’t get to cum on my cock, yeah?” Your skin tickles as Roman pushes some hair out of your eyes, the action starkly tender in comparison to the harsh way he holds your face. 

You nod quickly. “And you remember why?” he adds.

“I don’t deserve to,” you answer through your teeth, voice all muffled with the effort it takes to get the words out. Your jaw aches under his grip, and you remain obedient.

Roman tilts his head. “Repeat it,” he demands, tone low and unyielding.

“I don’t deserve it.” The words feel heavier this time and tears begin to blur your vision, stinging at the corners of your eyes.

“Yeah, good. Good girl. Took you long enough to remember, though that’s how it always goes with dumb sluts like you, huh? Always all stupid and fuck drunk. I know you can’t help it,” he murmurs, voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “Whatever. Just fuckin’ move.” 

You move yourself up on Roman’s cock almost all the way, then sink back down again. It takes you a minute to build a pace but Roman demonstrates patience, surprisingly. The fullness of his cock inside you, the ache it brings. 

“I hate you,” Roman whispers. “Do you have any idea how much I fucking hate you?” Without allowing you to answer, he takes control then, like he’s unable to help himself. He bounces you hard and fast, your ass hitting the top of his firm thighs with each pass. His eyes are dark and wild as he watches your body move, all that rippling, moving flesh just for him. “I’d even bet I hate you more than you hate yourself. How about that?”

Roman grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head to the side harshly, sending a sharp jolt of pain through your neck, causing an involuntary whine to escape your throat. He bites your shoulder, growling as he pounds into you. “Hey. Does it hurt yet?” he mumbles, squeezing his jaw even tighter, breaking your tender skin with his sharp canine teeth. 

“Yeah,” you whimper, keeping your eyes tightly closed to fight back tears. In truth, you love the release that comes when he makes you cry. But it’s the game, you know? How long can you hold out, how long until he breaks you?

“Yeah, good,” he grunts. “How about this one, then? Tell me, scale of one to ten.” Roman pushes you back and lowers his head, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth before pinching it hard between his teeth, causing you to cry out. “Shhhh, shut the fuck up and take it. Fucking take it,” he growls, swatting your ass before repeating the action with your other breast. “Give me a number.” 

“Ten, fuck- oh, fuck. Ten,” you wail. 

“Damn. That bad, huh? You gonna cry?”

You shake your head, gripping the couch cushions hard enough that you could tear the upholstery, dig your fingers inside. “Mm. Wearing your big girl panties today, I see. Very cute,” he says, shifting so he’s lying back against the couch again, dragging you along with your nipple still between his teeth. “You’ll cry, just like you always do. Watch.” 

Roman slaps you across the cheek, and it’s more of a beating than a proper smack. He’s done it to you before, and you sobbed for hours when he did. Must’ve hit a nerve. He watches your reaction with a twisted smile plastered on his face, his eyes crinkling. You look away, biting down on your wobbling bottom lip. “Oh, man. You’re trying so very hard to hold back those tears, aren’t you? Hey–look at me.” 

You turn your head back to look at Roman, and that’s all it takes for you to burst into tears. He’s so handsome and so fucking sick, and you are too. Roman looks satisfied with himself, murmuring some insult before resuming his brutal assault on your cunt. “Yeah, there it is. Cry for me.”

Your crying turns Roman on even more, makes him feel like an animal. Breaking you down like this. Not like it’s hard, but still. He relishes in the power, knowing it’s all him that does this to you. His violence. Roman’s. 

 Roman fucks you brutally, just like he always does. Hands on your ass, one slides up your waist to squeeze and grope your tits. He inches the other toward your ass, circling the tight ring of muscle with his middle finger before pushing it inside, making you feel fuller than you already do. All you can do is take it, sobbing above him as he uses you. You summon the courage to look at him, with his cheeks flushed all over, a light sheen of sweat glittering at his temples. “You’re so fucked,” he tells you. “Just–all fucked up. I think–fuck– think you’re prettier like this. Really, I mean it. C’mere, baby.”

Roman wraps his arms around you, leaving you with no choice but to hold him too. It feels…unnatural, but you relish in the closeness all the same. He changes the way he fucks you so that it’s less of a clean thrusting and more of an intense rolling of his hips, as he knows your clit is grinding against his pubic bone, his wiry hair only adding to the friction. You can’t help the moan that spills from your lips, “Oh, Roman.” 

“Fuck, yeah,” Roman groans, his cheek pressed against yours as he rocks his hips over and over into your dripping, tight pussy. He makes noises in your ear, knowing how much you love it. Kisses your throat to add insult to injury. You’re gonna come, and Roman knows it. Planned it. It’s a test, all part of the game. And look at you, falling for it. You really should know better.

It sort of takes you by surprise, that hot, sticky pleasure building in your gut. But nonetheless, it’s there. Roman’s tongue is tracing patterns on your neck and his hands hold you tightly, and you feel like you’re his. You cave, allowing yourself to touch him as your orgasm approaches. Feel the twitching veins in his neck, the muscles in his biceps tensing as he moves with you. 

Roman times it perfectly. Right when you’re about to come he pulls out of you, the sudden loss of his cock causing you to cry out in frustration. “You stupid fucking cunt. What’d I tell you, huh? What did we talk about? Get the fuck off of me. Down.”

Roman shoves you backward with brutal force and you land on that awful, rough carpet, the wind knocked from your lungs. He stands above you, cock in fist as he lifts a leg and presses it against your ribcage, dragging it down, down, down your tummy until it rests against your mound. And you can’t fucking help yourself. You rock your hips, grinding your clit against the bottom of his shoe, and Roman’s beside himself. And you, you’re not even here. You’re trying to tell yourself that this isn’t happening, you poor thing. Cute.

“Oh my god,” he laughs. “You’re gonna get yourself off on my fucking - my shoe, you fucking loser?”

You figure the picture in front of him should be enough of an answer, but it’s not. “Hey–” Roman gives you a little kick against your cunt. “Answer me, you fucking slut.” 

“Yes,” you sob, release once again approaching. Roman smiles in surprised delight, fucking his fist as he watches you writhe below him. Hair falling in front of his face, a lopsided grin with the dimples to match. He looks so tall like this, and you follow the line down his torso and his legs until all you’re looking at is his fucking shoe. The shiny black leather, the patterned socks. God. You moan his name loudly as you come, and to ruin your orgasm for his own amusement, he kicks you. And you moan louder, convulse even harder, pussy clenching around nothing. Fucking pathetic.

“Oh- fuck. Are you fucking real? I kick you and you come harder? Holy fuck,” he scoffs, squeezing his cock harder as he strokes it. “That’s fucking gross. Seriously, you are so fucking disgusting. Yeah, you should be crying. Jeeesus,” he laughs, his giggles turning into breathy moans as he rapidly pumps his fist. Roman comes then, spurting hot ropes of his come all over you - your face and your neck, your eyes, hair. Nothing that’ll be easy to clean up, of course. Roman hopes you’ll pass someone on your way home who’ll see the wreck he made of you and judge you for it worse than you judge yourself.

You’re a mess of drool, tears, and come by the end of it. Roman’s fucking drunk on power, absolutely elated with how this all turned out. Couldn’t have planned it better if he tried. You sit up then, but Roman quickly steps closer to your head, pressing the sole of his shoe against your throat and forcing you back down. “Ah-ah,” he tuts, dangling his shoe above your face before pressing the rubbery tip of the sole against your lips. “You know better than to leave a mess.”

If you enjoyed, it is MANDATORY that you drool and slobber in the comments or rb's or in my inbox. Be feral i DEMAND IT In all seriousness, your kind words mean the world to me ♡ ty for reading

Romey Tags

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@baloobalee @slimybeth69 @pearlstiare @romanisbrat @callsignwidow @ziggymars

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

YEARNING || Trust

There's always choices to be made.

Tags/Warnings: Dragonblood!Prince!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Angst, Some fluff if you squint?, Jungkook is emotionally constipated oops

Length: 5k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

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“You’re so gentle with them, it’s really nice to see.” Taehyung says, as he watches you help clean the still soft scales of the young dragon in your lap. “It’s like you’ve got a natural talent for it.”

“I wouldn’t call it talent.” You laugh, gently running the damp towel over the head of the heavy but still young creature in your lap, it’s eyes closed in bliss as it’s resting on your thigh, nearly asleep. “Isn’t it a.. normal instinct to care for children?”

“Children of your own kind, maybe.” Seokjin sighs. “But normally, humans don’t see anything positive in the whelps other than monetary value.” He mumbles, preparing food for the smallest hatchlings.

“Jin..” Taehyung warns softly, but you shake your head.

“no, he’s right.” You sigh. “and I’ll probably never understand how you can look at these beings and feel.. nothing.” You mostly talk to yourself, as someone else enters.

“Its good to see you up.” Namjoon offers. “I’m sorry for not having taken into account how sending Yoongi must’ve looked to you.”

“Its nothing to apologize for. I overreacted.” You wave off. “I hope he wasn’t scolded?” You worry, but Namjoon shakes his head.

“No, Jungkook understood.” He nods, before he seems to fall into thought. “which actually… would you like to accompany him and myself today? We will be taking a regular look at the borders later.” He asks, and both Seokjin and Taehyung share a look that shows only confusion.

But you nod. You reckon its most likely to show you a way to leave from, and where to go so you can truly make your way out of this place without getting in the way again. “good. I’ll come back later to fetch you.” He nods, before he leaves.

“Border patrol? That seems.. weird.” Taehyung bluntly states.

“Its mostly weird that he’d want you there.” Seokjin says towards you, who just shrugs.

“Maybe to give me an idea where not to cross again.” You explain. “It’s likely. Considering I can’t stay.”

“I still don’t get why not.” Taehyung huffs to himself, disappointed. “You’re so good with the hatchlings, and you’re clearly nice. Yoongi gets to stay too, why not you as well?” he mumbles to himself as Seokjin gives him a bottle to feed to the already jumping baby at his legs.

“I’m sure he has his reasons.” You simply say, as you help feed the small dragons, making it clear that you do not want to talk about it any further.

It’s later on that you realize Namjoon must’ve forgotten to tell Jungkook that you’ll be accompanying the two of them- because the glares the prince keeps sending his advisor could surely kill at any given chance.

And the biggest reason for that, is that apparently, Namjoon had forgotten that he can’t actually tag along at all, leaving the prince and you alone.

“You can just show me where to go, and send me off.” You tell him, as he rides closer to the border, horse calm but curious while Jungkook makes sure to keep an eye on you riding close to him, on one of the horses usually meant for other riders who patrol the borders.

“…you won’t leave today.” He mumbles, frustrated with himself. “...unless you want to, of course.” He offers, but you just sigh, petting the horse’s neck.

“I don’t think I could make that decision on my own.” You answer him, earning his full attention. “I would just act selfishly.”

“How so?” He asks, steering his horse past a few rocks.

“I would stay.” You shrug. “I don’t.. know why. Being here makes me feel guilty, and yet something inside of me craves to stay.” And at those words, Jungkook begins to feel guilty himself. If it wasn’t for his weird situation, you wouldn’t be stuck feeling like this.

Wait. You.. Shouldn't be feeling anything connected to the bond. This whole thing should be one-sided.

“Did you.. Are you sure your mother was entirely human?” He asks you, as the horse tilts its head a little to look at something for a second, before Jungkook steers it back on track. You shrug, before you nod.

“Very sure.” You say. “I’ve.. Seen some Hiwern women fleetingly, these past times I’ve been here. And she looked nothing like them.” You respond to him.

“And what about your father?” Jungkook asks- feeling you sigh.

“He died, during the last war.” You say, making Jungkook tense up. “I remember him leaving, when he was drafted. He.. Really didn’t want to fight, but he couldn’t risk us getting punished for his actions either.” You shake your head.

“Fear is a powerful emotion.” Jungkook says. “It’s however still brave to face it as an act to protect one’s family. Honorable, even.” He admits, despite his natural.. Negative feelings towards anyone who fought against his own kind.

“He wasn’t scared.” You deny however, causing him to perk up in interest. “He just.. Really didn’t want to fight. Because he felt like.. The enemy wasn’t his.” You explain. “That’s what my mom said.”

It’s quiet for a moment. What you say paints a different picture to how the war had been taught to him- if your father didn’t want to go to war against the Hiwerns and dragons, how many felt the same, but were forced to do so to protect their loved ones?

This is all getting way too muddy for his liking. Everything seems to blur and bleed, no clear lines visible anymore to him.

However, looking at you from a new perspective, he has a hunch as to who your father might’ve been. “Did he ever become a defector by chance?” Jungkook wonders, and you shrug.

“I’m not sure. My mom.. Mentioned something like that, but we never really got any definitive proof.” You explain. “All we had was a letter, and uhm.. This.” You say, pulling a necklace out of your coat, Jungkook taking a look at the tag on it- a silver soldier’s tag to be specific. “Someone told my mom that the three lines scratched in there mean he surrendered.” You say, and Jungkook leans over to inspect the tag a bit closer-

And you’re not quite right about the meaning of those three lines.

The three lines were a sign of acceptance- symbolizing a dragon’s footprint, they’ve been scratched into soldier’s tags after they did something meaningful for the Hiwern people. Simply surrendering would only really gain soldiers a way out.

This means that your father must’ve been accepted at some point.

“Hm. How did you get that?” Jungkook asks, letting go of the necklace for you to tuck away back beneath your clothes again.

“It was given back to us, together with his body.”

Jungkook quiets down at that. He doesn’t want to imagine your mother having to explain to you that your father would never return back home- that he was dead, and gone forever. A child shouldn’t have to grow up without any of the parents missing- but the world is a cruel place, and people always end up hurting themselves for nothing.

Jungkook quietly brings you both back to Taehyung and the rest- leaving you with them, while he himself investigates his own suspicions a bit further. If your father really got accepted, there has to be records of it somewhere in the archives, and Namjoon is the one keeping track of it all.

Because if what you say is true, then there has to be evidence of this somewhere.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

“There. The Number on the tag is the same.” Namjoon offers, having finally found an entry that seems to be what Jungkook has been looking for. A few documents written about him, and a small leather bound book, a journal most likely. It’s common for soldiers to write one after all- to leave something behind for their families if they don’t end up making it back.

And your father didn’t. It’s a shame he never even got to give it to you either.

He skips over some things, before something catches his attention. “..proved his bravery as he fought for his kind, and not against it.” Jungkook furrows his brows. “..despite his actions of mingling with the human kind, he still kept his dragon heart and stayed loyal to the tooth.” Jungkook reads.

“He was a Hiwern?” Namjoon wonders, surprised. “Well that certainly changes things.” He mumbles, looking over Jungkook’s shoulder to read what’s written down in the memorial book for himself. “So she is a hybrid Hiwern. Very interesting..” Namjoon says, as he instantly moves to look for something, while Jungkook is left behind.

Your father basically gave up his place within the lines and kingdom of the Hiwern people- just to be with your mother? He looks through the pages to find the mention of you and your brother- children he had raised as his own, even though you and your brother were not his.

This is just getting more and more confusing.

‘When I found her, naked and left to join the course of nature out in the winter, I did not hesitate to take her in as my own, despite the fact that she was not mine.’

Is written down in the journal pages attached to the memorial entry for your father. The leather of the booklet is worn and torn from age, so its not unusual to find the pages loose and out of order, a lot most likely missing entirely.

‘She was neither this nor that- discarded as a mistake meant to be forgotten.’

Jungkook sits down near a window, crossing his legs in a more comfortable position as he continues to read the handwriting.

‘they were not the same, but I raised them as such.’

He writes further, with that most likely meaning that your brother was his lover’s son, while you were not- but that he didn’t make any difference between you or your brother.

‘They are my children, cared for by my beloved, who had longed for another child for way too long, but was denied by nature to never receive one from me.’

Jungkook has to imagine the situation, somewhat. Has to think of what your childhood between all those humans must have been like, unaware of why you actually were. And he does admit that you do have something strangely familiar to him, even though he does not know you. Like a fable told to him years ago, as if you’d jumped out of those tales, made by the words and descriptions written down. If you have even just a hint of dragon’s blood in you, his attraction would finally make sense.

He flips through the pages of the journal, some of them burned, dirty, or torn. Your father most likely held onto them until the very last, before he gave them to the libraries to be archived.

‘Is it odd that I feel like she is starting to look like my beloved? Not in appearance, but in mannerisms. The way she hums the same song as her mother, the way she brushes her hair alongside her in the mornings, the way she carries the basket to help with the gardening. I see my beloved in her, every day a bit more. And I feel soothed by the thought that she will carry those parts of her even once we will no longer be here to watch over her.’

Jungkook’s heart aches for your father. He most likely never found out what happened to his partner, how she was taken away by force of the law, and not by the simple rule of time.

‘She will one day do well amongst the Hiwern people. She belongs there, I feel it every time I see her watch the dragons above with a certain sense of longing. One day I will bring her there, because her real home is amongst them.’

This catches Jungkook’s attention, as he remembers how you’d told him how you feel almost as if you’re pulled towards this place, instead of your former home. If your father was right, it would most likely be the blood yearning to go home, where it belongs, even though it’s not pure.

Your father is right, he decides, as he moves a bit to close the book. You belong here, even if he himself isn’t too fond of the thought. He has no right to deny you your place.

A piece of a page falls out and onto his boot, making him pick it up to read it, sentence cut but context still very clear on the burned scrap.

‘...oever it might be that one day might reach out for her hand;’

‘please, do not leave her out in the cold again. Dragons need warmth, after all.’

“Jungkook?” Namjoon asks, making the prince mindlessly tuck the torn piece of yellowed paper into the pocket of his coat, before he looks up. “what will you do now?”

“Well, I believe all the bits and pieces fit together.” He sighs. “from the way the younglings act towards her, to the memorial entry and the tag of her father. I can’t deny her a place here.” He accepts a bit reluctantly.

“And the bond?” Namjoon asks, watching the prince intently.

“Can wait. I don’t.. I can’t make a decision about that right now.” He refuses to answer properly, getting up after giving the book to his friend.

As he walks through the several bridges connecting the tunnels and houses hidden inside the mountains, he finds his interest sparked as a lot of the youngest dragons seem to be on the hunt for something- clumsily crawling over the grounds of a larger mountain top where much grass has grown, edges protected by fences to make it safe. The youngest are poking their heads around stones and trees, playing around it appears like. “Hide and seek.” You explain from behind him, partially hiding beneath, ironically, a large stone carving of the daughter of the mountains. “Seokjin said it trains their hunting instincts.” You explain, watching the little hatchlings searching for their ‘prey’- finding Taehyung who didn’t put too much effort into his hiding spot as to not make it too hard.

“How can you be a good example to them, showing yourself so openly?” Jungkook.. teases? You’re caught off guard for a good second, and don’t notice his hand in the pocket of his coat feeling the folded paper.

“Well, I mean-“ you stammer. “it’s not like you’re gonna hunt me..” you say, when you spot the way his lips begin to curl up, a sparkle in his eyes flickering. And somehow, there’s some odd internal words exchanged, or something else you can’t quite figure out.

“What makes you so sure?” He asks, eyes still on you-

When you suddenly run off, hearing the prince running right after you, Taehyung laughing together with someone else as the Hiwern chases you around the small patch of grassy grounds, your own laughter soon joining in as you try your hardest to escape the dragon blood, opting to climb a tree he doesn’t follow you up on.

Instead, he stands at the tree’s roots, arms crossed, chest rising and falling from his quickened breathing. “You will have to come down at some point.” He challenges.

“I will, when you’re gone!” You call back towards him.

“I have time, and patience. I can wait.” He responds, and at that you move to sit more comfortably on the thick branch, looking down at him.

“Have you found out more about my father?”

He’s caught off guard by this, and sighs, moving to face away from you, leaning against the stem of the old tree. “I did.” He responds. “how did you know?”

“You’re very easy to read.” You simply answer, swinging your legs.

“am I?” He scoffs, and you laugh.

“Yes. Very.” You dig the dagger deeper, and he rolls his eyes- not that you can see. “He was a good man. I hope he was remembered as such.”

“He was archived as a very good man.” Jungkook reassures you.

“He was one of you, wasn’t he?”

“he was.” Jungkook responds.

“it’s funny.” You say, watching the other hiwern afar struggle with one of the bigger helps. “if he’d never met his lover, never found me, do you think fate would’ve still created me?” You wonder.

Jungkook believes that in that case, he wouldn’t exist either. Because if the complimentary part to his blood did not exist, why would he?

“we will never know.” He answers because of that.

And that’s where he leaves you- figuratively, and literally.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

The next morning, everyone already seems to be busy and scrambling around, as he opens the windows to watch multiple staff hurry to wash clothes and sheets outside in the gardens on top of the hills and smaller mountains. This wouldn’t be unusual-

But there’s also medical personnel running around, instructing male and female maids to fetch things needed left and right.

A knock on his door is heard. Namjoon steps inside, bows politely. “whats going on?” Jungkook wants to know, wary now that he can see his friend place down a tray of water, breakfast and a steaming mug of herbal tea with a distinctive smell.

“There’s been multiple reports during the night of Hiwerns feeling sick. We’re still investigating, but the symptoms do point towards an outbreak of Scale Haze. One of the mother dragons must’ve brought it in.” Namjoon explains, as Jungkook takes the tea into his hand to sip the bitter liquid. “it also seems as if we might be.. getting our proof. About her blood, I mean.”

At that, Jungkook’s interest is peaked- though his gaze is alarmed, rather than curious. “She caught it too?” He asks, and Namjoon nods.

“She has the same symptoms.” Namjoon says, which makes the prince turn towards him fully.

“All the symptoms?” He asks, and namjoon nods.

“All of them.” He says, sitting down at a small table where Jungkook’s breakfast was placed, the Hiwern prince sitting down to eat while he listens. “fever, confusion, nausea, you name it.. but she’s visibly struggling a lot more than even the younger dragons.” He sighs.

“Her human side.” Jungkook says, speaking out loud what his friend is hinting at. Namjoon nods.

“Her body isn’t as good at dealing with it, especially the fever. But we’re trying our best.” He says.

“Make sure she gets the treatment she needs. Isolate her from the rest if necessary.” Jungkook mumbles, crossing his arms.

“You can see her and the others, if you’d like. But only from afar.” Namjoon instructs as Jungkook finishes his breakfast. “it might boost their morale. I’ve heard humans especially benefit from emotional support during sickness.” He says, as the prince gets up to get dressed.

“We’ll see how much is true about that theory.”

When Jungkook later on enters the rooms where the currently sick are being treated, he sees what he expected. Scale Haze is like a viral infection amongst dragons after all- it happens, though any kingdom or group should try to avoid it due to it being a pretty nasty ride, and very dangerous for the very young and elderly. But when he reaches the room you’re held in, he’s not prepared for just how bad you’re coping.

If one could even call it coping.

You’re asleep, or at least not conscious, sweat on your skin, while several maids tend to you, making sure to keep you both comfortable and your temperature down as much as possible. “Is there anything she needs?” Jungkook questions, but the tending maid shakes her head.

“Yoongi has gone through a fever before too, and he survived. She will be just fine.”

And while Jungkook doesn’t quite believe that fully, he has no choice but to exit the halls of the sick, to keep himself safe, and the kingdom running as always. He might not want it to be so, but the sight of you in such a miserable state hurts him physically, due to the bond, mostly. It’s growing steadily with every breath you share near him apparently, getting stronger every day.

A decision has to be made soon- but for now, the prince needs to focus on his own duties.

And yet, over the course of the next few days, he’s constantly distracted by the thought of you- how you’re doing, if there’s anything changing at the very moment, or if there was anything he could do to somehow make it easier on you. He catches himself watching the window often, always anticipating the moment you’ll join the other recovering Hiwerns outside- but do you even need sunlight to recover properly?

He knows from reading here and there, that humans do indeed need sun exposure here and there, but that they can also burn their skin since its a lot more sensitive. But the more he thinks, the more he starts to become a bit more confused.

Your father was a Hiwern. That much is certain. But your mother was not your biological one- he had found you out in the woods. True, you don’t look like you have full dragon blood- but maybe you’re just an anomaly. It happens, after all- from Dragons born without scales, to missing their wings or being unable to fly. The same goes for Hiwern people- they come in all shapes and sizes, taller, shorter, blind or deaf, missing their markings or having more prominent marks than others.

Why does this occupy his mind so much?

“They’re having a bit of trouble with your mate.” Yoongi teases as he sits down in front of Jungkook, setting down a few papers meant to be signed and sent off to another Hiwern Hideout.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, alarmed- but also, surprisingly enough, no longer fighting the term used to refer to you any longer, as if he’s starting to accept it, slowly but surely. “Did something happen?”

“She’s recovering, so calm down.” Yoongi reassures him. “But the caretakers are having quite a hard time keeping her in bed. She’s quote, ‘acting worse than any other hatchling’, I’ve been told.” He says, and Jungkook sighs, running a hand over his face.

“What is she doing?” The Hiwern asks, and Yoongi laughs under his breath.

“Helping, as she calls it.” He explains. “She watches out for any chance, and then strikes to take over any task she can manage. It does help, but it’s also very obvious that she should slow down a little.”

This alone makes Jungkook visit you later on, arms crossed as he observes you wash some of the clothes. “You should be resting.” He scolds, and you jump at that, instantly turning around to face him.

He has to admit- looking at him like that, he couldn’t ever really see himself getting extremely angry at you.

He takes the fabric you’re currently holding onto from you, before he waves an actual caretaker over to do the task for you, keeping a hand on yours as he drags you back to what he remembers was your bed in the makeshift quarters. “But- I’m doing better!” You complain.

“Better is not good enough. You’re supposed to rest, not prolong your sickness because you don’t give your body enough time to recover.” He denies your complaint, only letting go of you once you sit on your bed again.

“I’m not contagious anymore.” You argue once more with crossed arms- just like he is standing in front of you.

“I don’t care.” He answers.

“I can help-” You try again, and he’s quick to shut you down.

“Not like this.” Jungkook denies.

“But I can’t just lay around and do nothing.!” You whine, clearly agitated over this.

Jungkook sighs. He can understand that you’re most likely restless, he himself knows the feeling well- but there’s nothing he can really do in this moment. He doesn’t want you to be harmed by your own stubbornness, but he doesn't want you close either because he knows he won’t be able to properly handle that.

But he’s unable to resist any further it seems like.

Because hours later he’s working on reading through the documents before signing them, while you’re sleeping on his bed of all places, dozing away what’s left of your sickness in your body, and this alone makes him feel lighter, in a way. He watches you for a good little moment, just thinking about what would really happen if he was to just give in, and reach out for you.

Would it really be as horrible as he thought it would be?

You’re basically almost the same, simply a little different, but nothing near impossible to make work. Your father seemed to have been just fine raising his children alongside a human mate- and even though Jungkook’s position is very much a different one, no one could ever blame him for just wanting to be selfish at least once in his life.

Until now, his entire existence had always been devoted to his role of future leadership. It’s always been about what he can offer to the people, to the small little kingdom left to his kind- but he wants to just be stubborn for once. Betray his title and gain something that’s simply just for himself, and not to be shared with others.

He wonders if it could work.

And if it would-

How his life would turn around.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

While you didn’t sleep in his chambers, but rather returned to your very own soon after your nap and a decent meal, Jungkook still feels as if your scent alone left on his pillows offered him a sense of company at night.

Now, this morning, it’s obvious that you’re recovering well- though you still seem rather tired. He can’t help himself when he spots you laying down on a blanket outside in the gardens where other dragons currently reside as well-mostly mother dragons taking care of their recovering younglings. When he walks closer, you don’t seem too alarmed, though you sit back up properly, as if you expect him to say or ask something.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he sits down on the blanket with you, wordlessly patting his leg as if to invite you to lay your head there- and you do so, unsure yourself as to why this seems so impossible to deny. There’s a strange attraction in yourself that you cant properly explain yourself- as if you’ve known him forever, and want to be as close as you can be, just because everything feels better the closer you are.

So you watch from where you’re laying down now, with your head on his thigh, how the mother dragons curl up for a nap in the sunlight as well, resting as they recover from their illness. “How are you feeling?” He asks, and you notice his hand resting on your waist by now, casually, with no other clear intentions. You simply nod, eyes closed, and he can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes him at the sight of you so blissful.

It’s a clear and obvious sign that while your body might be painfully human, your blood is still a dragon’s- and it’s calling out to his own, reaching out and clinging to him already.

“When do I have to leave?” You ask, still not opening your eyes- and his hand moves a little at that, adjusting its position as he sighs.

“You don’t.” He admits. “You belong here.”

“Do you want me here?” You ask, now looking up at him. “it’s fine if you don’t. You know.. I can maybe travel to another Hiwern outpost then-“ you explain, but he shakes his head.

“No, you will stay here.” He denies. “I.. there is something I need you to know.” He starts, and you nod, slowly sitting up- and while he internally doesn’t like it, he has to let it happen, mind aware that putting at least a bit of distance between you two is for the best, especially considering the topic he’s about to begin. “Hiwerns.. have mates.” He says, and you lean your head a little to the side in confusion. “It’s a blood connection, so to speak.”

“And I am yours?” You ask, making him nod as an answer.

“There’s.. no real bond yet, but it is why I’m holding you at arms length.” He admits to you. “I am in a position of power, and every move and decision I make has to be carefully calculated.” Jungkook explains. “But I can’t help but.. crave to be selfish.”

“selfish?” You wonder, unsure what he means. “Because you want to.. I guess, accept that bond-mate thing?” You ask, and he nods- avoiding eye contact now. “But how would that be selfish? It’s not like I’d automatically fall into power as well.”

This makes him stutter, he’s widening as he realizes you’re right.

You’d gain nothing from this. You’d simply be his mate, but other than that, nothing would change. He’d been worried about how he’d be perceived by the other people under his ruling, but at the end of it all, you are right. It’s not selfishness-

If anything, his act of simply seeking out an emotional and physical connection to someone else, taking on a lover and mate, just makes him painfully human.

And is that truly such a mistake?

“You’re right.” He nods after a moment of thinking. “You’re right.” He repeats softer, and you smile.

“so-“ you start, leaning a bit closer to him to finally catch his gaze again.

“Does that mean I’ll finally get to know you?”

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

“You accept her?” Namjoon wonders as be walks into Jungkook’s office, where he stands to watch outside of his window, observing you help some others in hanging up laundry. Jungkook nods.

“Its up to her to accept me now.” He says. “she wants to get to know me first.”

“So?” The fellow Hiwern laughs. “What are you doing in here then? It’s hard to get to know someone else by simply staring from afar.” He jokes, and Jungkook sighs, crossing his arms.

“I don’t.. know what she thinks she’s going to find.” He says, a little frustrated. “I don’t know what she wants to find.”

“I don’t think she wants to find anything specific.” Namjoon denies, walking to stand next to his friend. “I believe she just.. wants to know who you are.”

“She knows.” Jungkook frowns. “my name, my place, my history. What else is there to know.” He argues.

“What you like and dislike. What you dream of, or what you enjoy eating. What you were like as a child, or what you like to do in your free time. Jungkook, just.. be yourself for once. You can be a leader any other time of the day-“ he advises, a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “-But please, take this chance.”

Take this chance.

It’s a little later that morning that he finally finds the courage to seek you out again- this time finding you way down at the foot of the mountains, where you’ve agreed to help a group of Hiwerns in bringing a few horses back that they have traded with a human outcast near the border.

“Does this happen often?” You wonder, as you walk towards Jungkook , holding the reigns of a dark brown horse. “trading with humans, I mean.” You wonder, not even seemingly surprised that he’s there.

“not often, no.” He denies, taking the reigns from you before he walks besides you back to where the horses are hidden from sight. “we have.. contacts that we trust, and that is where we leave it most of the time. It’s purely business more often than not.” He admits.

“Hm. Because new connections aren’t really trustworthy yet, I guess...” you say, making the prince nod.

“Trust has to be earned, and nurtured. It’s not to be freely given away.” He agrees, and you stay silent for a few steps, before you speak again.

“How.. can I earn your trust?” You ask, as he gives the reigns to another person who brings the new horses into their stables, leaving you and Jungkook behind.

The prince seems to think for a moment, before he answers.

“I don’t know.” He says.

“You know, answers like that.. make me trust you.” You admit, a drop of water falling onto your shoulder, skies having darkened a little with heavy clouds. “because you’re honest.” You say, and Jungkook turns to look at you.

“You deserve honesty.” He simply offers, making you smile.

“thank you.” You respond, and he can’t help the way his lips tilt upwards as well, smile creeping up on him by the sight of you.

“come on now. Before it starts to rain.”

On the way back, he notices it again- the song you hum, while holding your own hands behind your back, walking with your steps easy and light. You really do look right at home in this place- you seem to glow almost, like an animal set free into its natural habitat. It’s no wonder that he feels enchanted already- he’s almost convinced that even without the blood-bond, he’d have found interest in you either way.

So he finally sets himself free as well, as he walks closer, and moves his own hand between yours to take hold of your palm. It’s a wordless gesture, but the fact that he interlocks his fingers with yours to keep you at his side makes it obvious what he’s trying to tell you with it.

“I’ll have to help take down the laundry again before it rains.” You say, but he shakes his head as he leads you somewhere else.

“the maids can do that.” He denies. “right now, I’d like.. your company.” He asks almost, and you laugh.

“my company? For what?” You repeat, bumping a bit into him- surprised however to see him smile so openly at you now.

“to get to know you.”

[dreamwritersworld]

His daughter (sully family x reader) part 2

Y/n’s anxiety was the worse growing up, if she hadn’t done it right or if her father didn’t approve she’d panic. Anything she did was effortless and beautiful but neither of them saw that. If you challenged Y/n, she’d prove you wrong immediately.

For as long as Y/n could remember everybody loved her. She never knew exactly what it was. She just knew that she had something special, something intangible, something immeasurable, and it gave her “confidence”.

However no one knew much she put into getting all her skills in check. There was so much stress in such a young girl to please the people. She saw her father as gold at the top of the mountain and her mother’s proud smile as the sweetest item amongst Eywa creations. She wanted their approval so badly..

*

Y/n had scrapes and mud along side her knees and body, it only got worse as she crawled further up the small trunk of a tree. Here she was moving her fastest as she goes against Neteyam who had been given a simpler task of obstacles. She struggled to breathe through the tight space…panicking at the realization that she wouldn’t succeed

I want it, I wanted it bad

The bloodshed and exhaustion was getting to her

but there were so many red flags

When she crawled right through, Neteyam had already been rewarded, the dirtest part of him being sweat and very little mud. Y/n’s sorrow was written all over her face, that afternoon she walked home covered in mud, drops of blood and sweat..she weeped to the empty forest that night begging Eywa to give her the sweetest reward on her…to save her and have her succeed further than she could imagine..

*

She loved her father and his approval, she wanted it more than anyone else. He knew this, he made her dependent and knew she’d crave it. If Y/n couldn’t stay with him forever, he’d find a way so that she would. Sure, Tuk was younger but Y/n was his real baby, she had almost died on him and he wasn’t going to let her go after that.

When Y/n wasn’t with Jake, she was with Neytiri. She wasn’t only her mother but Y/n’s best friend. Their relationship was so strong. On the days Y/n was exhausted she rested her head right on Neytiri’s lap as she played with her hair, she looked like a cat, calmly sleeping in her mother’s lap. It’d be hard to decide weather she was a daddy’s girl or mamas girl…but you’d have to take into consideration that when she was with Neytiri she at least provided a sense of that peace..mamas girl. It was true, Y/n spoke very highly of her mother constantly even if she had betrayed her…

*

Y/n had been speaking to one of the little girls who was asking to learn about human culture that Jake had taught her growing up..

“…mmh and Mother’s Day is the day people celebrate mommies?..”

“yes sweetheart!”

“What do you think about your mother?”

“My mom is a very important person in my life. And I think she taught me a lot of lessons in life, how to respect the public and the rest of my family. And I think it’s very important to have a mother and I want to be like her.”

Y/n’s voice was clear and you can tell she meant every word. The moment was cut short when an adult asked Y/n to aid them in healing..so she left the child alone with her mother. Neytiri’s eyes watered to her daughter’s sweet answer..

“And you? What about you?”

The young child looked dearly and innocently at Neytiri, filled with excitement to get a deeper connection between the two.

“Growing up I always told y/n to not change her way of being. You know, to all the time be humble and caring how she is with everyone..She’s a very special girl. Same as my other kids, all kids are special of course but..without her, I can’t imagine a life without her…she’s very important, she keeps my family together..”

Everything Neytiri had stated was true, Y/n made sure to develop a close relationship with her siblings. Her parents had been so connected to her and all was well with their family, as long as Y/n was there. As soon as Jake was gone she’d comfort her siblings and give them all her love. That was just the type of person she was.

*

Jake and Neytiri ripped Y/n apart. Their love was toxic to the child..

Jake would practically tell Y/n not to listen to her mother when she instructed her to stay behind during training and Neytiri would have Y/n sit on her lap while she cried, it may have seemed sweet until you realized that she was crying from the stress of canceling on her father and him yelling at her while her mother sat and watched..there’s no denying that she’d loved them until her final breathe.

They isolated her..

*

“Y/n! Y/n! Y/n! What you waiting for?”

“Please come out and play with us!”

“Y/n likes to stay in the house children..she can’t play right now.” (Neytiri)

“Oh..please let her come out and play with us now..”

“She can’t, she has important Navi’s to meet today..” (Jake)

Jake passed a smile at the young children, he heard himself say pure bliss. Y/n was being set up to meet perfect leaders that will help guide her and Neteyam as clan leaders. The child sat in silence with a saddened face, making eye contact with the children right before her father closed the curtain..

M-A-M-A-G-I-R-L

mama’s girl

mama’s girl

D-A-D-D-Y-G-I-R-L

daddy’s girl

daddy’s girl

*

When it was time for dinner in the morning, Y/n ate in silence. Her eyes were red from the crying. Jake didn’t even dare to stare longer, knowing that he too was upset..

Tsireya and Ao’nung had interrupted their breakfast to let them know that they’d be ready to teach as soon as they’re ready and to meet them at their Maui. The entire family walked in silence ready to greet the Tonowari, Ronal and their kids.

Ronal was instructing Tsireya on what’d it be best to start with today..however a certain someone in the small crowd of demon bloods caught her attention. All teens were quietly discussing amongst themselves except Y/n…she was dazed and looking right past Ronal, sheeply smiling at the home.

“Y/n!..are you tired today?”

The exhaustion was practically noticeable to the healer who can feel it. Y/n immediately glanced at her father, seeing his smile had dropped and she was now frightened that he’d be upset and start an argument right then and there.

“..no.”

She passed a gentle smile, attempting for it to wash over.

“No..okay you look a little tired.”

“Perhaps, it’s all the traveling..im sorry. I can assure you , your home and island has done me good the last couple of hours..sorry.”

Ronal was satisfied in Y/n’s answer. Soon it was time to begin training and the adults and children went their separate ways.

Ao’nung didn’t know where he’d even begin to start a conversation with her…but he found a way.

“..so not tired?”

Y/n turned and laughed at his awkward attempt, smiling at his efforts, being silently grateful.

“I am, but that’s between us! Your island is very beautiful..”

“Once you get used to it, it’ll be ordinary..normal!”

“Yea..when it’s not an everyday thing, you’ll learn to appreciate it I guess. Sorry, what’s your name? Just asking so I get it right!”

“Ao’nung, and your Y/n correct?”

“Yes Ao’nung. How about we run in the water together!”

The young boy liked the way his name rolled off her tongue, she said it as though she knew him forever. Y/n made their conversation comfortable, and she even offered a good race. The rest of the practice went well and the group got awfully comfortable. Ao’nung and Y/n connected immediately. When Y/n got home that bond seemed to be the hottest topic at the table..

“How was practice today? Everyone did good?”

“Yes sir! Everyone did great, their ways are different but good to learn.”

Neteyam spoke proudly, despite his sadness about leaving his position back at home he felt good to learn new ways of life.

“..mmh im sure of that. Anything else?”

Everyone knew Jake was trying to get Y/n to talk, but her stubbornness wouldn’t allow it. She was furious with him, he had yet to feel bad about anything he said. Lo’ak however thought it’d be best to make his twin sister smile; he just didn’t realize what he was about to say would be the wrong place to bring it up.

“Ao’nung is crushing on Y/n!”

All four siblings turned to the brother, shocked that he’d bring up the topic they thought they had silently agreed not to.

“Hehe..no he’s not.”

Y/n replied with an awkward frustrated laugh and stern voice, telling her brother to be quiet.

“…Ao’nung mmh…you know you can’t y/n-“

“I never said I would.”

Jake’s face was surprised at how quick she was to talk back and he immediately got defensive.

“Well I’m ordering you not to.”

“Im not a soldier, Ao’nung and I are just friends.”

Y/n had left a distaste in Jake’s mouth that made him no longer want to speak. The family tried moving past it while Y/n stayed silent. In the back of Jake’s mind he was panicking, afraid Y/n wouldn’t focus on training and that she’d fall behind and never learn their way. All the issues would fall like dominos…if she fell behind, she wouldn’t learn, if she didn’t learn she would become dependent on Ao’nung, if he wasn’t there she wouldn’t know what to do, if she didn’t know what to do…she wouldn’t survive at all. He didn’t even take into consideration that Ao’nung was the one teaching her the way of water, he just thought of him as some boy..oh how was he so wrong..

!🎀!

REMEMBER MY INBOX IS OPEN!!!! 💕

@ruyaas-world @neteyamyanw3 @elegantkidfansoul @adaydreamaway08 @luxiniary @venomsvl

[edges-of-night]

hii, just found your blog recently and i’m obsessed! your writing is on a another level❤️

can I request romantic frodo x fem!human reader headcanons, where the reader is often ignored or brushed off by her family and frodo is always there for/comforts her? (yea clearly going through something lol)

tysm for all your lovely posts!

Hi, nonnie! Firstly, thank you for your kind words. It’s always sweet to hear people like this blog. At the same time, I’m very sorry to hear you’re going through a hard time. Please take good care of yourself ♡

✧ Being a Hobbit with many connections, Frodo knows a thing or two about your Human family, as well as the way they tend to treat you.

✧ After first noticing your family’s ignorance, he’d keep any comments to himself and simply invite you to over to Bag End, perhaps under some pretense.

✧ Quality time with Frodo is always wonderful, be it teatime, reading, dancing, learning poems, eating strawberries, or simply going on a walk, holding your hand…

✧ No matter what the two of you were doing, Frodo would often check with you, trying to capture your eyes with his. “Are you alright? Yes? Can you catch this blueberry? Oh, bravo!”

✧ He would also ask your opinion of seemingly anything – a tailored waistcoat, pressed flowers, a new set of candles for Second Breakfast... He truly treasures your point of view.

✧ Since he has a strong suspicion of what’s going on, asking “Is something weighing you down?” is but a polite formality to Frodo. He’s already determined to get to the bottom of this; he simply cannot bear seeing you so downcast.

✧ With such sweet company, it’s easy for you to open up to Frodo. You can talk to him about anything, as he has often assured you. “Anything you tell me beneath this beech will stay beneath the beech. Between the two of us.” You can trust him entirely!

✧ Frodo always has a friendly ear for you and gives you a heartfelt hug whenever you need one. He may be small, but resting your head on his shoulder does wonders for your soul.

✧ Should you cry when you’re with him, he won’t judge you. On the contrary, Frodo would feel with you – if you want, he’ll pull you close and kiss your hair. You’re safe with him.

✧ Frodo also has words of encouragement for you. He assures you that the way your family treats you is not your fault, and that no one should be brushed off like that: “Don’t blame yourself for what happened. You have so much to carry already.”

✧ On some days, you might need celebration instead of consolation – Then it’s time for a night out at the Green Dragon! Frodo will take you dancing until daylight and bring you closer to his friends and family.

✧ Sidenote: Frodo cares very little for other Hobbits who look down on him bringing a “tall girl like yourself” to Hobbiton. In fact, he even likes the attention and gossip a bit.

✧ Frodo would make it entirely up to you if and when you want to take him along with you to your family (Bilbo, Merry and Pippin have already accepted you as their extended family long ago).

✧ During his visits, Frodo would watch your family with suspicion. He’ll keep a sharp eye on any mistreatment toward you, always ready to pull you aside and engage you in a conversation or play. He’ll always stay polite, unless a true cruelty arose that demanded him speaking up. Then he’ll do just that!

✧ In short: Frodo would always give you the exact amount of attention you crave, never brushing you off – especially not if you were in an emotional or vulnerable state. He’ll hold and kiss your hand, providing you with the refuge you sought all this time.

✧ “I will always be there for you. You know that already – but I still wanted to tell you. Call me and I’ll come flying, as fast as these feet allow at least. I’m here for you.”

[galactic-magick]

Flirting Failures PART 2: Mr. Milchick x Reader

Link to Part 1

Words: 1.1k

(Thank you so much for all the love on Part 1! Still gender-neutral reader, use of Y/N, and no S2 spoilers)

-

You feel something on your face as you go up the elevator, bringing your fingers to your cheek at the familiar ding. It’s wet, and your eyes feel watery. Was your innie just crying?

You switch your things from your locker, head up the stairs, and run to your car as quickly as you can, pulling out your phone as soon as you shut the door.

You click on Seth Milchick’s contact, something you do probably way more often than you’re supposed to. But you don’t care much for those particular rules, especially because he’ll tell you things that you can’t find answers for anywhere else.

“Y/N! What can I help you with so soon after your workday?” he asks.

“Why was my innie crying? I came up the elevator with tears actively streaming down my face. Did something happen to them?”

You’re very protective over your innie, a feat you’ve found is actually pretty rare in the severed community. Other people you’ve talked to don’t even see their innies as an extension of themselves, just a different consciousness to experience everything they don’t want to, something they don’t even see as a person. But you genuinely care about this other version of you, and you’d hate to find out they’re getting hurt in any way.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make them cry.” Seth responds. “You see, your innie tried to...flirt with me today.”

You can’t help but chuckle a bit at that.

“Well, it’s good to know my innie also has good taste, at least. What did I do?”

“You…” there’s a beat of silence, as if deciding whether to respond to your comment, “I can’t really say specifics, but I let them down gently, since there’s rules against co-worker relationships. But maybe they took it harder than I thought.”

Now it’s your turn to be silent.

You try to get the situation straight in your head, setting aside the initial humor of it all. Your innie made a move before you did, got rejected, and was so distraught they were brought to tears? And now every time you go back in that elevator, you’re sending your innie back to face the man who broke their heart?

Of course your innie would have the confidence you never could. You’ve been crushing on Milchick since you met him, but you never pursued anything beyond talking to him on the phone every so often. And now that you know your innie has feelings for him too, wouldn’t it be unfair for you to have something with him that they can’t? You’d be, what, stealing him from yourself?

Your thoughts are tied in impossible tangles, so much that you nearly forget he’s still on the line. What are you supposed to say?

“Y/N?” his voice cuts through.”

“Sorry, I just…” you exhale. “I feel bad for them.”

“I know. And for the record, I didn’t want to let them down.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, I—“ you hear muffled voices. “I have to go. Important meeting with Ms. Co-”

He hangs up.

-

You’re almost done with you file now, and honestly you couldn’t care less.

You should be excited to win your first prize, but none of them appeal to you anymore. What is a perk worth when you can never experience the depth of human connection? What do you care about some stupid material object or party when there’s no escape when it’s done?

You’re not quite sure why it all hit you so hard yesterday. Something about pretending to fancy Mr. Milchick made you realize you actually do, and how much you’ve actually wanted to experience love in this life. All of your friends in MDR do too, really. Irvings excessive visitations with O&D lately haven’t gone unnoticed, nor Mark’s longing glances at Helly. Heck, even Dylan talks about his fantasies of how many women his outie must be pulling. You all crave love and escape to some degree, and none of you can have either of them.

Is this to be the rest of your existence? Just sorting numbers? Never experiencing sleep or the outdoors? Waiting for the next round of 8 hours?

“Y/N? May I have a word?”

You look up, entirely not thrilled to see Mr. Milchick in the doorway. Still, you do as he says, following him into the hallway.

“I wanted to tell you that I got a call from your outie yesterday. They said you were crying on your way up the elevator. I thought we resolved the issue, there was no need to cry.”

“Really?” you raise your brows. “You called me out here just to tell me when I should and shouldn’t cry?”

“No, I—“

“Right, because we can’t leave, can’t have more than two vending machine snacks, can’t ask what we’re doing, can’t explore the floor…Oh! And we can’t cry whenever the fuck we want! Is there anything else you want to tell me we can’t do?”

He takes a deep breath.

“I meant I was confused. I assure you, I didn’t intend to hurt your feelings.”

“Look, I’ll keep my promise of backing off so you don’t get in trouble. But I never promised to not have feelings. You told me you care about me, and that made me a little emotional, okay? Are you going to send me to the Break Room again for that?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then how about you leave me alone for a little while.”

You walk past him back into the office, and he doesn’t follow.

“What’s he going on about now?” Dylan asks.

“Just checking to make sure I’m behaving, I guess.” you shrug, getting back into your seat.

“Why wouldn’t you? You don’t actually like him, do you?”

“None of your business, Dylan.”

“Fuck, are you serious?”

You ignore him, binning a few more sets of numbers.

“Y/N! Tell me you’re not fucking serious!”

You aggressively push down the divider between your desks, giving him the middle finger before pulling it back up.

-

Seth never called you back after that day, and you’ve chosen not to bother him for answers again just yet. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, right? Won’t he?

You find yourself thinking about your innie again. What are they really like? Do they act the same way you do? Talk the same way you do? Seth tells you bits and pieces, but you don’t really know this other version of you. And will you ever?

What if your innie is your better half? What if a life in a controlled environment makes you a better person?

What if he likes you better in there than out here? Or the other way around?

You didn’t consider this specific consequence of the procedure when you agreed to it, that’s for sure.

-

(Let me know what you guys think of the switching innie and outie POVs! And let me know if you're interested in more parts!)+

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Heyo! All the art on these readings is drawn by me. Take what you can from the reading and leave all that does not resonate behind but always be open to new perspectives.

The archetype reading was inspired by the deck I used today. The guide book uses examples from anime to fit the descriptions of the tarot cards. I thought that was really clever so I decided to build off that idea and tell you what archetype you are most drawn to wants to tell you. In short, this is really a message from a specific cards energy. I hope this helps anyone who might be struggling!

PILE 1

Crystal: Tigers Eye

Character: Badtz-Maru

Archetype: The Empress

Astrology: Taurus ♉️, Libra ♎️, Pisces ♓️, Virgo ♍️

Dear pile 1, you are represented by the empress of this deck. The archetype you embody is someone who is luxurious, modest, kind and attentive. You care deeply for those you love and would do anything to assist them and make their life easier. You are a fantastic friend, partner and companion. You don’t necessarily have to be a woman to embody that energy. The message this part of you wants to tell you is that your kindness is being taken for granted. Your attentiveness is being discarded as if the love you gave isn’t worth anything. Your intuition is telling you to withdraw from the connection that is causing this. You maybe started this friendship or connection a while ago but you have started to notice this pattern from the other party in this relationship. They don’t return your love. They don’t say thank you when you go out of your way to be good to them. This doesn’t mean you should necessarily cut them off. Just don’t go out of your way anymore. They are undeserving if they cannot be grateful to you for all you do. I see if you did stop it would barely be noticed at first. However, the person will slowly realize how much you did to assist them. How much work you did was important and helped them get through the day easily. If they apologize and communicate they did wrong that won't necessarily be your queue to go back to scratching their back. You need to wait for them to lend their assistance to you. That will be your invitation to return to being kind. Until then use the extra time you have working on your passion projects and aiming for your dreams.

🖤✒️🔎💻🕋🛞♟️🎤🎼🎱🏴🪨🐕‍🦺🕶️🎩🐦‍⬛💣🎵🎶♣️♠️🏴‍☠️👁️‍🗨️

PILE 2

Crystal: Flower Agate

Character: Keroppi

Archetype: The Devil

Astrology: Leo ♌️, Aquarius ♒️, Capricorn ♑️, Gemini ♊️

Hey pile 2! Your archetype is the devil. Don’t worry though, for this doesn’t make you evil or bad. All this communicates to me is you are an enjoyer of the darker parts of life. You enjoy what other people usually fear. This is definitely not something horrible you should shame yourself about. I see you probably enjoy altered states of reality or perhaps you are very free with your sexual expression. I see you like the taste of control, power and vengeance. Again not a bad thing in my mind. Humans have many states of being and no part of existence is incorrect. Your message from the devil archetype is not asking you to cold turkey your behavior. However, I think it is saying balance is super important when you dabble in darkness. You might be prone to addiction to literally anything you can get dopamine from. I am an addict as well. I know how hard restraint can be. Even doing this reading is giving me cravings to be honest so I know you deal with cravings constantly. Your cards are saying it doesn’t matter if you feed the addiction. You will always be starving for more. You will always be chasing something you can never achieve. Please take care of your body before the cravings lead to worse. When I was dealing with my addiction I ended up in the hospital multiple times. It would have killed me if I hadn’t stopped. It is okay to dabble in darkness but seriously I beg you, from the bottom of my heart please moderate. Moderation is key to keeping yourself safe. If you are meant to have the darkness, it will be in your grasp. If you are in need of a break. Trust the universe when it takes it away. You are not evil for needing. I want to reiterate that because I know how it feels to need something that hurts you.

💚🦈🪀🧃🍵🪦🥗🥒🥑🌪️🫒🍸🍏🥝☘️🌱🥈⚓️🪴🎍🐍🦎🚬👒🤢

PILE 3

Crystal: Carnelian

Character: Tuxedo Sam

Archetype: Emperor

Astrology: Cancer ♋️, Aries ♈️, Sagittarius ♐️, Scorpio ♏️

Hey, pile 3! Your archetype is the emperor. You are a force to be reckoned with. A master of your craft and skilled beyond other people's wildest imaginations. You have a plan and have been putting so much energy into it. You know exactly what you want and exactly how to get it. Your cards are pretty straight forward just like you are. They are telling me that working hard is good! That your progress is fantastic and you have made it so far! However, the pace you are keeping at is almost unsustainable. You can’t juggle all of the tasks you are trying to keep under control. You cannot do it all by yourself. That isn’t logical! Humans are not solitary creatures. We need community and connection to continue on. Humans who have been left alone for too long go hecking crazy! You absolutely can handle all of it mentally. I am not saying you are incapable because you are SO CAPABLE. Rome was not built in a day. Masterpieces are not made out of minutes, they are made out of days or months or years. You are creating a masterpiece so allow yourself time to think about it. Allow yourself the space to brainstorm and be patient with your body and your creativity. Be gentle with yourself. You are only one person and the secret you are missing is that you are not alone. The silly little secret is that you don’t need to set a deadline for the greatness you are going to grow into. One of my favorite artists didn’t make it when he was 20. He grew into his greatness when he was 35. Does that make him any less of a great artist? Absolutely not!!! You are cool, awesome and wonderful! Why do you need to prove that when you already know it is true?

💙💤🌀🪬🌨️🧿💎🚿🧊🫐🌊🌧️🌬️💨🌏🦋🪼🐬🧢🫂🥶💠

-ghost 🖤🩵

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Ange I was thinking about your latest Ettore drabble, maybe, canon Ettore would’ve turned out differently if he had met the right person. If he had met someone who is as depraved, desperate for some escape, maybe just as unknowingly craving that genuine human touch, he wouldn’t have hurt someone else, he would’ve had something warm to hold onto in that hellhole he lived.

Hopefully I don’t sound like I’m defending canon Ettore’s action, he is a scumbag. But maybe had two scumbags who are just as desperate to comfort each other through canal pleasure been left alone, they might have had something beautiful, something genuine blooming between them.

Im not joking when I said you’re singlehandedly making Ettore one of my favorite characters, Ewan played a scumbag, and a lot of Ettore fics hammered his predator side through and through, I like your approach to the character in fanon writing exploring the other possibility if he met someone and started connecting with them in the end. I would love to read the “I love you” drabble you teased if you have time and ofc feel like writing it one day.

Sorry this has taken me so long!

Warnings: Implied smut, mild violence, heavy angst, character death, mentions of grief, trauma. Word count: ~2k

Ettore stares after Boyse’s retreating form, a feeling of unease settling into his gut. It’s not a feeling he is accustomed to and he hates it. This would end badly. The sudden spike in adrenaline directly opposes the post-sex haze he was expecting to bask in for a moment, and his jaw clenches in anger, simmering hot and unforgiving beneath his skin.

He considers going after Boyse, silencing her, making sure she doesn’t ruin the only good thing he has to look forward to on this miserable ship. But then he looks down at her, the woman he is currently buried inside of, her eyes large and reflecting the same anxiety he currently feels. His fury slowly dissipates as he is brought back into the moment; her warmth enveloping him, how soft she feels against his body.

“Shit.” She breathes out shakily, pushing him away and straightening up.

A hollowness expands within Ettore’s chest at the sudden loss of contact as he slips out of her. There is something about it that feels so final, it has him longing to press her back up against the wall and keep her there forever.

Slowly, he adjusts his clothing as she does the same to hers. His eyes move between her and the door, unsure of how to handle the situation.

“Fuckfuckfuck.” She murmurs, raking her hands through her hair and starting to pace. “That was so stupid of us.”

“You think she’ll say anything?” He asks, standing perfectly still in spite of the nervousness that rolls in his gut.

“I dunno.” She says with a shrug, chewing absentmindedly at her thumbnail. “Hard to tell.”

“We could stop her…”

She ceases her pacing and looks him in the eye, her tone serious. “You’ll do nothing, not after what you did to Monte. I’ll talk to Boyse. Just go back to work, okay?”

He nods. She has a point, but he hates the lack of control he has over the situation.

As she turns to leave the laundry room, he is struck once more by the overwhelming sensation of finality. He reaches desperately for her, pulling her to him and kissing her fiercely, as though he is trying to breathe the very air from her lungs. He feels her relax into it, moving her lips against his for a few seconds and his grip on her tightens.

She pulls away eventually, breathless and eyebrows raised in surprise. “You trying to get us caught again?”

“No, I just…” The words die in his throat, unable to articulate the fact that he wants nothing more than to live in this moment forever, and he shakes his head. “...doesn’t matter.”

She slips out of his grasp and walks off. He doesn’t turn away until she rounds the corner and is out of sight

He spends the rest of the day on edge. His ears prick up at every sound, his shoulders never fully pulling away from his neck. The ship doesn’t make for the most relaxing environment in the first place, but he’s feeling especially tense. The impending sense that something is going to happen refuses to leave him, but he’s unsure of what to expect.

Perhaps Monte will seek him out, intent on getting him back for his attack earlier? Maybe Dibs will formulate some sort of punishment, having been informed that he’s involved sexually with another member of the crew when it’s strictly forbidden?

When sleep mode is activated later that evening, he anticipates relief washing over him as there is seemingly no fallout to the events earlier that day, instead his mind continues to race.

He passes her in the hallway on the way back to his cell, and raises his eyebrows at her in question. She shakes her head and he sighs in frustration, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her around a corner.

“You’ve not sorted it?” He asks in a whisper.

She sighs. “I couldn’t. Haven’t been able to find Boyse most of the day and whenever I see her she’s not on her own. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“Fuck.” He tuts, pulling back from her.

“I think it’s best if you don’t come to my bunk tonight.” She tells him. “Can’t risk it.”

He knows it’s for the best, that what she’s saying makes total sense and yet he can’t help the crushing disappointment that settles heavy and unyielding in his chest. When his mind won’t quiet there is nothing that soothes him more than to sink inside of her, and feel the way she shudders and falls apart against him. He needs that now more than ever, yet the riskiness of their current predicament will not allow it.

He quirks his lip, looking away from her and stalks back towards his cell.

Sleep does not come for Ettore that night; he lays flat on his back, eyes fixed on the door to the cell, waiting. For what, he is unsure, but his gut feeling tells him something is wrong and he is powerless to stop it. He is always the hunter, never the hunted, and yet the tables have turned and there is nothing he can do about it. His grip on the blankets beside him turns his knuckles white as he lays there, trapped and frustrated.

He has no idea how long he lays there for, just watching, but at some point the lights on board brighten, signaling the start of another day. He climbs from the bed, raising his arms above his head to lean on the doorframe as he peers out.

The first few members of the crew begin to exit their cells, sullen faced as they head towards the showers. Ettore looks at them impassively as they pass, not really seeing them. His gaze focuses, zeroing in when he sees a familiar head of long, dark hair heading in the opposite direction; Dibs. He suspects where she is headed, and waits a few moments before following.

Lurking around the corner, his suspicions are confirmed as she goes into her cell. He wishes he could hear what they are saying, it’s not common for Dibs to visit any of the crew in their sleeping quarters and seeing this makes his chest feel tight. There’s no way this isn’t related to them being caught together.

He flattens against the wall, as he sees Dibs leave, striding purposefully back towards her lab. He can’t see the expression on her face, but there’s something about the way she carries herself that leaves him longing to punch her. He flexes his fingers to suppress the urge and then heads into the cell that she’s just exited.

She’s pulling on her top when he enters and is clearly startled by the sight of him as her head appears through the neckhole.

“Christ! When did you appear there?” She asks, smoothing the material of the scrubs over her midriff. 

He ignores the questioning, jutting his jin towards the doorway. “What was all that about?”

She sighs, her gaze downcast. “Dibs says I missed my last check up. Wants to see me this morning.”

Bile rises in his throat, his eyes narrow. “You know that’s bullshit, right? Boyse has dropped us in it.”

She nods, looking up at him in resignation. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. But what choice do I have? Gotta take my punishment.”

“Don’t go!” He tells her angrily, his heart feeling as though it will thunder straight out of his chest. “You don’t have to go!”

“The longer I leave it, the worse it’ll be.” She shrugs. “I’ve lashed out at her before and all she did was up my sedatives. Can’t imagine this will be any worse.”

“But what if it is?!” He shouts, feeling his face grow hot as he surges forward to grab her by the upper arms. “What if she hurts you?”

“Then she hurts me.” She fires back, scowling. “You’ve hurt me before, it heals.”

He lets her go, stepping back, but never shifting his focus from her face. “I’m not letting you do this.”

She scoffs. “She’ll drug me up, I’ll come back, I’ll sleep it off. Why are you being so fucking weird about this?”

He speaks before he has time to think, the words leaving him in a burst of exasperation. “Because I love you!”

Freezing when he realises what he’s said, the air hangs heavy between them as she stares at him in shock. Why isn’t she saying anything?!

His fists clench as he feels rejection begin to pierce at him, eager to lash out, until her face softens and she speaks, barely a whisper.

“What did you just say?”

He exhales, not realising he’d been holding his breath and looks away from her. “I just…I don’t want anything to happen to you, alright?”

She cups his face, urging him downward so that she can rest her forehead against his. “I know. I know. I’ll be okay, promise.”

He relaxes in her embrace, eager to keep her with him. He leans in, pressing his lips to hers, disappointed when she pulls back with a playful smile.

“Let me owe you that one.” She says softly. “My guarantee to you that I’ll come back.”

He watches silently as she walks away, in the direction of the lab, dread gnawing at his insides.

Ettore is slamming closed the lid of a washer when Tchemy enters the laundry room. “We’ve been summoned.” He calls out to him.

“What d’you mean?” He asks, turning to face him.

“Dibs needs something put out of the airlock.” Tchemy says with a casual shrug. “It’s me and Mink on maintenance today, but she asked for you specifically. Must be heavy if Mink can’t help me.”

Ettore feels as though all the air has left room, his heart lurches painfully in his chest. He pushes past Tchemy, ignoring the other man’s joking pleas for him to slow down as he storms quickly towards the airlock.

Time draws to a standstill, the blood rushing in his ears when he sees the gurney and the sheet covering the figure that lays upon it. His knees feel like they’ll buckle beneath him, everything sounds far away.

“This is a body…” Tchemy says apprehensively.

Dibs nods solemnly, her expression grim as her mouth presses into a tight line. “She bled out during a routine procedure. Tragic, but unavoidable, these things happen. We have to dispose of her”

Ettore barely comprehends the exchange, his eyes drift downwards to the hand that’s hanging from beneath the sheet. Her hand. The same hand that had cupped his face earlier that day as she’d told him she owed him a kiss. A kiss he’d never get to have, because she’d been taken from him. She was his and they’d taken her away.

His hands tremble, his eyes sting painfully and he swallows thickly, he won’t give Dibs the satisfaction of a reaction. She’d taken enough from him already. He’d been right, why hadn’t he done more to stop her? He’d let her go and now she was being discarded like rubbish.

He bristles with anger as Tchemy claps him on the shoulder, pulling him out of his painful reverie. “Need your help, man.” He says.

Dibs had done this on purpose, she’d wanted him to know, to see, to punish him by having him help dispose of her. His heart shatters when he lifts her, how cold and void of her usual softness she is against him is too much to bear. His mood shifts, becoming darker, angrier, more predatory as they seal the airlock back up. His resolve hardens. Something inside of him has died alongside of her, and he wants to make them pay for what they’ve stolen from him. They’ll all feel every bit of the pain he’s enduring, he’ll make sure of it. And he’ll start with the person who ratted them out in the first place; Boyse.

Series masterlist

Wonderful artwork by @targaryenrealnessdarling

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

Half-Life | Chapter One

Leon was alone.

Pairing: Plaga!Leon S. Kennedy/F!Chubby!Paranormal Investigator!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Body Horror, Suicidal Thoughts

Notes: This fic came to me in a fugue state after pulling an all-nighter. I was just really thinking about the potential for Plaga!Leon angst and what it would be like for him to live as one of the monsters he used to put down. I also think it's dismal how little Leon/Chubby!Reader content there is right now, so I made it myself. I'm not sure if I want to leave this as a one-shot or make it a short chapter fic, so let me know what you guys think!

Masterlist | Next

--------------------

Leon succumbed to the parasite.

He managed to defeat Saddler and his monstrous puppets, being able to somewhat retain his mental state without a master to control him.

He got Ashley to safety, but he told her he was staying behind, knowing what might happen if the government got its hands on him. He figured it could go a few different ways: they’d either kill him immediately because he would be deemed a threat, they’d experiment on him, or they’d use him as a bioweapon—the thing he’d been fighting against this whole time.

Ashley tried to convince him that she and her father would do what they could to prevent those outcomes after all he’d done to save and protect her, believing (as a young girl would) that he could be fixed and live a normal life.

Leon knew better than that. And so he asked her to tell the world he died when she made it out. Despite her protests and her tears, she did just that.

He then met with the merchant after saying his goodbye to Ashley. The strange man let Leon trade his weapons and equipment—things he’d never need to use again—for basic supplies to ease his transition into living in the wilderness.

Leon had always preferred civilization to the great outdoors. The irony that he'd spend the rest of his life in the middle of nowhere after lamenting this fact was not lost on him.

With a cheerful adieu, the merchant packed up his things and left, never to return.

Leon was alone.

At first, it was almost peaceful.

He lived off hunting the animals in the woods and spearing the fish in the lake with his new scorpion-like tail. He even maintained a friendship with the dog he helped (that helped him in return), aptly naming him “Wolfie” because Leon had never been the creative type.

Even with his animal companion, though, Leon felt… lonely. He had lost everything; his friends thought he was dead, he no longer had a purpose to fulfill beyond survival, and his humanity had been ripped away from him—one of the few things left he ever really held onto while fighting monsters for so long.

He craved human connection more than anything but knew he had to settle for what he had.

And so, when the occasional curious hiker appeared nearby, he did what he could to scare them off. He rarely had to do much to ensure that they wouldn’t come back, using the decomposing bodies of the Ganados and the carcasses of his prey as “decorations” around the entrance of the village.

Of course, there was the occasional brave soul who ventured into his new home. Leon had to take matters into his own hands by either darting between trees and buildings to feed their paranoia or simply showing himself from a distance, standing to his full height and glaring them down.

They always ran screaming after that.

The longer he lived alone, the less human he felt he was, giving in to baser instincts to survive and provide for himself and Wolfie.

But he tried to maintain the human side of him that somehow still persisted, in any way he could. 

He’d talk out loud to himself and his furry friend. He holed up in the village chief’s house and took care of it to the best of his ability. He would set traps for rabbits and birds. He even used the old motorboat to go fishing in the lake, though it eventually ran out of fuel, forcing him to rely on the four appendages that sprouted from his spine as makeshift paddles.

He did his best.

The years slipped by and his loneliness only grew.

Wolfie was old now and Leon worried what would happen to the little sanity he had left when his only companion died. He did what he could to keep the wolf-dog comfortable, ruffling his clawed hands through his fur as he’d done a million times. But now gray tinged the animal’s coat, and Leon wondered how he never noticed it before.

What about Leon, then? Was he aging, too?

In a fit of rage, during the early days of his transformation, he had broken all the mirrors in the house, not wanting to look at himself and what he’d become.

So now he traveled to the well outside, staring at his rippling reflection in the dark water.

The skin of his face was still smooth—or what was left of it after his mouth ripped apart to make room for the rows of deadly sharp teeth that burst from his gums.

His once blue eyes were now a vibrant, glowing red, his vision having been improved vastly by becoming the ultimate apex predator. Just another step further from his humanity, he thought.

He kept his hair the way he always liked it, though learning to use the rusty scissors he found while out rummaging in the village had been a challenge with his new needle-like fingers.

His body had been slowly… growing… over the years. Elongating. His arms and legs, once thick and corded with muscle, were thinning into gangling limbs.

God, it was like a second puberty. But infinitely worse.

He barely fit into any of the clothes he’d collected, the articles simultaneously too loose on his form but far too short to cover his lower abdomen and calves. He didn’t bother with shoes anymore, none able to be pulled onto his taloned feet.

It was fine, however, as the ground wasn’t painful to traverse now (even on the roughest of terrain), and he no longer experienced the cold or the heat in a way that could affect him. That was one of the few “improvements” he welcomed over time, after facing the sweltering summers and winters blanketed in snow.

Despite these changes, though, Leon realized while studying his mirror image that there wasn’t a single indication of aging to be seen. Not a gray hair or wrinkle in sight.

Internally, he began to panic.

If he didn’t age, would that mean he’d be stuck living like this forever? That once Wolfie passed, he’d be alone for eternity?

He wished he had just gone with Ashley and hoped whoever greeted them would have gunned him down on the spot. At least then he wouldn’t have had to live this half-life, practically a ghost already haunting these woods.

He wondered if even the cruelty of experimentation or being used as a weapon would be worth no longer facing this suffocating isolation.

He chided his younger self for his optimism that being left behind was the best option.

It was set, then. After he buried his dog, he would finally pluck up the courage to kill himself. It wouldn’t be easy for him. Leon had always been a fighter, never wanting to give up. But he was tired, and there was nothing besides his animal companion that was keeping him tethered to the world. He was listless.

And yet, there was still a part of him that hoped something might change. He of all people—if he even had the right to call himself a person anymore—knew better than to let hope lead him.

It had been a decade of the same, hadn’t it?

The monotony of his days was almost too much to bear. He thought years ago, before he was infected, that he would enjoy a life like this. It was peaceful in a way, wasn’t it? He realized now he missed the chaos.

A far-off noise suddenly jarred him from his thoughts.

Another “improvement” had been his enhanced hearing. He could pick something up nearly a mile away.

He tilted his head to better decipher the sound.

Footsteps.

Well, that wasn’t unusual, given the area. It was full of wildlife, after all.

But then he heard something else, something that made his whole body freeze up.

Something so distinctly human, there was nothing else it could possibly be.

He heard singing.

+++

Your family and friends had called you ridiculous when you told them you wanted to hunt the supernatural for a living.

Perhaps they were right, but it was a passion of yours to seek out the weird and wild. Maybe that was why you were so compelled by what went bump in the night.

You weren’t sure you truly believed in ghosts and cryptids and the like, but you had an open mind and the ambition to seek out answers. Given the state of the world and the B.O.W.s that terrorized it, you supposed the supernatural might not be far removed from reality, anyway.

You had always been deemed “strange” by others. Had always been on the outside looking in, wondering why being normal never came easy to you.

It didn’t help that your body type—short and plump—made you feel further removed from everyone else. You never thought you were ugly or unattractive, but that didn’t stop others from deciding you were, based solely on something so trivial.

But you weren’t completely alone. Your family loved you, you made good friends, and you even had your fair share of relationships over the years.

You learned that normalcy was bullshit, and so you embraced your strangeness.

And that’s what led you to this abandoned village, hidden deep in the Spanish woodlands.

The locals of a nearby town had told you of the horrors that occurred here. Stories of missing hikers and a cult seeking to take over the world through a parasitic bioweapon; of the daughter of the former United States president being rescued by a young agent who died tragically while saving her life.

You knew all of this already, of course. You had done your research on this place and what had happened to it.

You knew that Ashley Graham made it home safe—traumatized but mostly unharmed. You knew the cult and its monsters had been completely wiped out. You knew the place was practically a ghost town, the forest beginning to reclaim the ruins.

None of that, though interesting, was what brought you to this village, however.

What caught your attention was what came after.

Many were curious about the place when the news broke, but only a rare few dared to visit it. Fewer still ever made it past the gate.

But those who did spoke of a creature who lurked in the shadows. They claimed it was tall—nearly seven feet—and its eyes glowed red. No one had managed to snap a photo of it in their state of panic, but the descriptions were all consistent.

El Escorpion, they called it.

It seemed like a solid lead, and even if you never found this recently discovered cryptid, the tragic and insane history—not to mention the creepiness factor—of the location would be enough material to write a compelling post for your paranormal blog.

Despite your family and friends’ initial concerns about your career of choice, you were doing well for yourself.

You still had to work on the side to pay for your rent and all the expenses that came with your investigations, often cranking out clickbait articles for a quick buck. But your blog had only recently popped off, your posts receiving a ton of new followers after an emotional visit to the ruins of Raccoon City (and likely a dangerous one, considering the radiation).

People liked your methods. They liked that you explained the story behind every location you visited with great detail and respect, but managed to keep it fun while still building up a spooky atmosphere.

If you were honest, the popularity of your blog wasn’t something you really cared about. Although it was nice to see the numbers rise and people engage with your hard work, the content was controversial and you were often belittled for your passion. The only thing you wanted was to get as many followers as it would take to receive sponsorships in hopes of making enough money to take your investigations to new heights.

It definitely wasn’t easy trying to live your dream, but so far it had been rewarding. You hoped this trip would be, too.

You had just exited the vehicle of the friendly (and very, very chatty) local who was kind enough to offer you a ride to your destination. They were a fan of your blog, they told you, and warned you to be careful.

Once they drove off, nothing could have prepared you for the horrifying sight that greeted you when you began your journey.

Bones and rot littered the ground—were even strung up on the surrounding trees like party streamers. Several of the carcasses seemed awfully fresh, and you weren’t sure, but some of the older remains looked… almost human?

No, you had to be imagining it.

But if the visuals didn’t make your stomach turn, the smell definitely did.

Ignoring your watering eyes and the gag reflex threatening to trigger, you pulled the collar of your shirt over your nose and snapped a few promising pictures before moving forward.

It was a bit of a walk, having to travel through an old hunting lodge that had seen better days in order to finally reach the village gate.

You balked at the human skulls that lined the top, a chill lurching up your spine at the realization. Instead of allowing the sinking feeling in your gut to control you, you took some more photos instead, determined to see this through.

You drew in a deep, calming breath and opened the gate, having to use most of your strength to push through the rust that coated its hinges.

You practically vibrated with a mix of excitement and anxiety as you looked at the village before you.

It was terrifying to do this alone, but you had grown used to the solitude during your investigations. You reminded yourself that the most you had dealt with in the past were other people pulling pranks on you and wild animals going about their business.

So, you continued on, not wanting to feed the needling fear that someone or something could have been left behind by the cult.

You spent some time in the village, singing to yourself to help settle your nerves, before leaving out of another gate. You didn’t have a map of the area, no one having been much further than the village in the ten years since its abandonment, so you simply had to explore on your own and hope you didn’t get lost.

You were walking down a wooded path, taking in every detail as you meandered forward, when you heard a rustle in the trees beside you. 

Whatever it was, it must have been huge. You prayed it was a deer.

Gathering your courage, you faced the direction of the noise and drifted closer to the edge of the forest, your movements careful and deliberate in hopes of not scaring whatever it was off or goading it to attack you.

It was broad daylight, but you were struggling to see into the shade cast by the densely packed foliage.

“I won’t hurt you,” you whispered gently as another movement from whatever it was jostled the bush in front of you.

It was stupid, but you felt inclined to reach out your hand, hoping it wouldn’t get bitten.

That’s when you saw the pair of glowing eyes staring at you through the leaves, roughly waist-height to you.

You felt some sense of relief at that, believing it to be a woodland animal.

That is, until the eyes started to move up. 

You froze in place, hand still outstretched, as a massive creature stood upright before you, their features obscured by shadow. 

Your mind screamed at you to run but your legs remained locked in place.

This is it, you thought. I’m going to die.

Well, at least it was a good run.

The creature stepped forward into the light and you were met with possibly the most horrifying beast you had ever seen.

It was over a foot taller than you, its form similar to that of a human, if not for the four long, spidery appendages that unfolded from its back, a scorpion tail whipping behind it.

It had talons on its feet and long claws instead of fingers, the tips of them dangerously sharp, its worn clothes hanging off of it awkwardly. 

Your eyes eventually climbed back up to its face, its mouth split nearly to its ears as it bared its fangs at you, glinting wickedly in the midday sun.

Your gaze met those glowing red orbs once more, the creature’s expression akin to a glare.

Something about its face seemed so familiar to you for some reason, the mix of confusion and terror only further cementing you to the ground. 

You still didn’t move when it took another step closer, its leg nearly brushing your still outstretched hand.

“You should’ve been running by now.”

You were startled by its voice, the sound deep and masculine. And pleasantly human despite the obvious threat.

You knew you had heard it before.

He leaned forward, his head level with yours as he searched your face, looking clearly befuddled by your refusal to escape.

“You’re practically begging me to eat you, little rabbit. But I prefer a chase.” He sounded serious, but he made no move to touch you.

Your hand finally fell to your side and you swallowed, hard.

“You’re lying.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, barely visible behind a curtain of choppy blond hair, before replying, “Excuse me?”

You took a shaky breath. “You’re lying. You’re not going to eat me. You’re not going to hurt me at all. There hasn’t been a disappearance in the area for ten years and everyone who’s come here since has lived to tell the tale.”

He laughed in surprise, running a claw through his hair. It was so uncanny how human it was. And how familiar. “Maybe I’m just a bad hunter.”

“Well, if those animal remains at the front of the village path are anything to go by, I highly doubt it.”

“Not all of them were animals, you know.” 

“The ones that weren’t are too old, though, aren’t they?”

“You’re observant, I’ll give you that.” He folded his long arms over his chest, red eyes looking out across your surroundings, sounding almost sheepish as he added, “You know, this might be the most I’ve talked to someone I should be eating instead.”

He shook his head and chuckled to himself before meeting your gaze.

And then it clicked.

“You’re… You’re Leon Kennedy, aren’t you?” you breathed.

He stiffened at the name. “How do you know who I am? Did someone tell you? Did someone send you here?”

He took another step during his inquisition, your noses nearly touching, his hot breath fanning across your face as you glanced at his sharp, sharp teeth.

“I’ve seen pictures of you. Interviews, too. You were all over the news when you survived Raccoon City. And again when President Graham claimed you died in action.” You paused for a moment in thought before you asked, “Did Ashley Graham know you survived?”

He scoffed, pulling back and stepping around you to add some distance. “I asked her to tell the world I was dead so I could live the rest of my days in peace as this… monster.”

“Ah, and all these curious visitors are like annoying kids in your front lawn?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Something like that. Why are you here, anyway? You seem kinda far from home.”

“Well…” It was your turn to look sheepish as you tried to explain, “I’m a paranormal investigator, and I came here because there were cryptid sightings in the area. Guess you’re the cryptid. Mystery solved.” 

He rushed back over to you, grabbing your arm. The movement jostled you and made you flinch, but it didn't hurt. He winced at your reaction, though, and loosened his grip. “Listen, please don’t tell anyone I’m here. I don’t need this place becoming a tourist hotspot. Not yet, anyway.”

“Not yet..? What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it, just… Please just promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “The problem is that I spent a lot of money on this trip, and if I don’t have something to show for it, my career could flop.”

He sighed deeply, releasing his hold. “Look, I can make it up to you, okay? If you’re strapped for cash, I have a bunch of gemstones, jewelry, and expensive little knick-knacks. Take what you can carry, got it?”

You thought on it for a moment, considering your options. You wanted to respect his privacy, but it was difficult to let something this big go. However, if he was willing to pay for your silence, you supposed you couldn’t complain. Maybe you could even buy better equipment when this was all said and done.

“Okay. Deal.”

He moved to shake your hand in his clawed one but pulled back when he noticed you eyeing it nervously. “Great. We’ll get you your stuff and send you on your way before it gets dark.”

“About that… My ride isn’t coming to get me until tomorrow morning. I was planning to camp out here tonight,” you revealed.

He gave you an incredulous look. “You’re telling me you heard rumors about a monster living in the area and you decide you’re going to spend the night here? No backup plan?”

“What can I say, I like to live on the edge. Besides, I didn’t really believe there was a monster out here, anyway. Egg on my face, I guess.” 

He rubbed his eyes with his palms as he let out an exasperated breath. “Right, well I guess you could spend the night, then. There aren’t any B.O.W.s left in the area except me, obviously. But some of the wildlife isn’t exactly friendly. Would be safer for you to stick with me.”

Your lips parted in surprise at his generosity before you offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Mr. Kennedy. I appreciate it.”

“Please, just… Just call me Leon.”

“Well, thank you, Leon,” you said, proceeding to give him your own name. 

His lips peeled up in what could almost be described as a bashful smile before he pointed further down the path. “C’mon, then. I can make us dinner.” 

You shocked him by hooking an arm through his, beaming up at him.

“We better get to it, then.”

+++

We.

Leon hadn’t heard someone say that in a long time.

Maybe things could be different.

--------------------

Masterlist | Next

[fair-city-reporter]

Commemorating the Anniversary

Well, this blog was made just in time for the Wordgirl Anniversary - even if it was almost entirely by accident. The series premiered 17 years ago (excluding the shorts-) on September 3, 2007 and while I hardly remember the original shorts - let alone the first episodes, I returned to it just now and with the anniversary at the eyes of its adoring fans.

If anything, Wordgirl changed me in a way I can't describe. Everything started with Randy Cunningham, and the return to my beloved Secret Quartet but now Wordgirl has become a show dear to my heart. Not only is it an educational program with an amazing cast of characters - but because there's so much more it could be. Wordgirl has a lot of deeper episodes, shining brightly against its usual more comedic, lighthearted approach.

I can't thank enough how much being part of the community, being part of the fandom, has made me a lot happier. I've yet to see much toxicity and let's hope it stays that way but to move onto something fun for this post - I'm going to be posting headcanons and lore ideas here, the same way I did when I first joined Randy Cunningham.

I hope you enjoy the show!

WORDGIRL HEADCANONS

💫 Becky Botsford 'presents' herself as Afro-Latina, much like the rest of her adoptive family. Though she is alien, I have this distinct feeling there's some cloaking thing going on (because I am also very much for a separate headcanon I will talk about shortly-)

💫 She met Violet Heaslip when they were still in preschool and became inseparable ever since.

💫 Due to the connections with Superman, Becky can heal faster than the average human; she can still scar, of course but she won't easily be killed by normal means. What this means for when it comes to Lexonite - we'll get to that later!

💫 Her first crush wasn't Scoops! It was Violet, but Becky didn't seem to pick up on it - as she didn't have a concept of the word back then, at least not fully, and well - she dismissed it for something else. Personally, I don't think she cares about giving her sexuality a label. It just exists!

💫 She craves validation but she doesn't want to be arrogant. I know canon seems to treat this a little weirdly; though I like to see it as her wanting to be seen, as more than just Wordgirl and after all - heroes should get their recognition for protecting their city which is more than can be said for Fair City!

💫 I love the idea that the Botsford's always suspected there was something special about Becky, but they never brought it up - not wanting her to feel cornered.

💫 Becky and Violet are often partners in projects. Where Violet's more artistic, Becky works on making sure it's presentable and other notecards where her writing excels.

💫 Fair City cannot possibly be that dumb, but then again - it is an educational show. Even then, they make me mad though I can rant about that in a meta post; for now, here''s the headcanon: featured words have to happen in the episode, and so there's a bit of 'programming' where they need to ask in order for Wordgirl to define it!

💫 Divorced McAllister parents moment!

💫 Literally most of the cast is neurodivergent. I don't make the rules (except I do /lh-). This is canon now!

💫 You cannot sit here and tell me that Lexicon doesn't know Becky went missing from the planet. So either they know and don't care; or they know... and she's just too far away for them to reach her. (or there's the angstier approach where something happened to the planet, but that isn't supported by canon so-)

💫 Not all of the characters can break the fourth wall. This is something only attributed to Becky and some of the leads; others can talk with the Narrator, but they don't have direct communication with the viewers, or anything like that!

💫 Adoptive villain family supporter here-

I have a lot more, but these are the ones I'm starting with, because I am very lazy- and well, this post has gotten incredibly big. Also additional headcanon that since the series is educational, other planets exist based on school subjects! Loosely supported by the appearance of Kid Math, though honestly he should've had more episodes-

Lore thoughts will be posted separately as I realize this has gotten incredibly big, but I am just bouncing off of the walls - Wordgirl is my pride and joy right now, even if I love to angst anything I get my paws on! Without much further ado though, I leave you!

Happy Wordgirl anniversary, to the many years to come - and well, to the prosperity of this blog because I am very much not done yet!

[dufrau]

Subby anon here <333 offering some human connection! I've noticed you posting about fragrances and I'd love to know about your favorites to wear, favorites to smell on women <3, worst ones you've tried, general thoughts on that business/brands, anything else you'd like to share! (and let me know if it's the right time to send horny questions <3)

-Subby anon

Oh wild timing. I was just about to post that Im feeling a little sad today so I put on Kilian Dark Lord after my shower to try and remind myself that Im sexy lol.

This is a fun question, thank you for asking!

I have kind of a stupidly large collection. This isn't all of them but these are the ones i wear most often:

I definitely don't have a signature scent because I like to wear something different almost every day to keep my nose interested. Personally I tend to like masculine-leaning unisex fragrances and classic barbershop mens scents. I don't really vibe with most designer mens fragrances at all. And anything super feminine i dont like on myself. I like wood, and tea, and leather, and vetiver and oakmoss and tobacco. I like citrus and fig. I sometimes like rose and I rarely like jasmine. I like patchouli as a supporting player but not as the main event.

I dont think I have favorites to smell on women exactly? I like it when women wear a scent, because then I start to associate that with them, and that's nice, and sexy. But fragrance at least to me is very personal, like, there are things i think are well blended and nicely made that I just don't feel at home wearing. So I wouldn't want to prescribe a scent to somebody else that might not feel good to them to wear, you know? But I do like sweet, candy-like scents on women. And cozy gourmand kind of things. Anything that suggests you might taste good is psychologically effective on me.

As for the worst? I think most designer mens fragrances are cloying and awful. In general almost anything with a fashion designer's name on it in a blue bottle is going to be a no from me. Oh one I sampled from a brand I actually like but I hated this one so much was Horizon by Oriza L Legrand, its such a patchouli bomb i had to take a second shower to scrub it off myself. Another one I hated from a brand I like was Flos Mortis by Rogue, it was like a baby powdery jasmine bomb that reminded me of like urinal cakes or something. Revolting. I hope you dont wear either of those lol if you do im sorry maybe they smell great on you.

My general advice re finding fragrances you like is to order samples. I go through luckyscent just because they have so many different brands available, but their samples are tiny and and they come in dropper bottles instead of atomizers (spray bottles) which is annoying. But there are tons of other sites that do samples. But the important thing is, get samples. Wear them. Put one on after your shower and let it evolve over the course of the day so you actually know what it would feel like to wear it. Smelling something on a card or on your wrist in a store doesnt give you the full experience. Sometimes things smell very different after an hour or two, for better or for worse. You don't want to buy a whole bottle of something just to realize you actually hate it! (plus sampling is just fun. it's like the smell version of wearing a costume or something. i dont know. i love it.)

As for horny questions, honestly it's probably not the best time? I wouldn't be mad or anything, but Im feeling kind of sad and lonesome in a way that I don't think jerking off will fix right now lol. I probably just need a nap.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

Sorry if this has been asked before but thoughts on ace and/or aro spec Eddie? Because it is near and dear to my heart. Especially with everything we’ve gotten both on screen and in interviews from Ryan.

I have not gotten this question before!

I would like to preface this by saying that I am not aro/ace so I am speaking in what my understanding of the asexuality spectrum is from my ace friends, so i apologize if I misspeak or say something that is not entirely accurate to the experience of ace/aro people.

Obviously, everyone is entitled to their own interpretations of fictional characters, and I am never going to tell someone they are right or wrong for their interpretation of a character’s actions. However, I personally don’t view Eddie as aromantic, and if I were to place him on the asexuality scale, I would place him more towards demi-sexual than completely asexual. We know Eddie enjoys sex, but he still has a very complicated relationship with it when it comes to the women he has been with, and that could be for a myriad of reasons.

Of course one of these reasons could be that Eddie simply thinks he enjoys sex bc he grew up in a repressive religious environment where he was probably to scared to feel any other way, meaning he could very well be asexual and his seeming enjoyment of sex could be an act he puts on to ignore the part of him that he is repressing.

As a gay eddie truther, I believe this idea partly bc I believe he is trying to convince himself he is into women because that’s what he grew up to be taught that men should be attracted to women. However, I could see this being a pathway for Eddie to be introduced as somewhere on the asexuality spectrum, my personal belief being that he would lie more towards the demi end.

As far as him being aromantic, i personally don’t see this. I think we have seen plenty of times from Eddie that he craves that connection with someone but he actively sacrifices his own desires because he thinks he has some obligation to finding a mother for chris. I feel like what Kim said to Eddie in 7x9 about Eddie having too much love to give is true because he so badly wants to be in love with someone for himself, but he has convinced himself he can’t gave that because he views Christopher needing a mother figure as the more important quality in his romantic partners.

All of this to say, these are just my own thoughts and observations. I am obviously biased as a gay person who relates deeply to eddie for many reasons, and so my interpretation of his actions/words are through that lense. It’s hard for me to really see him as anything else, but just because that is my interpretation does not mean it is the only interpretation or even the right or wrong one. Until we get some form of confirmation from canon that Eddie is queer (which i think is very very very likely to happen this season) all we can do is speculate and theorize based on our own personal interpretations of him as a character— and i think that goes along with Ryan’s quote about how much he loves that such a wide range of people can see themselves in Eddie; and i think that no matter what, he is such a powerful and complex character that no matter what sexuality he ends up being confirmed as in canon so many fans of different sexualities and gender identities will still be able to find that deep connection with him and that is so beautiful to me.

I hope this answered your question! I love getting to have these kind of deep talks that dive into the complexities of human sexuality and all the nuances that come along with it (which is why i almost love the idea of them making Eddie unlabeled even though I personally perceive him as gay!)

I hope you have a lovely morning, afternoon, or evening wherever you are! and thank you again for the ask 💕💕

(again, apologies if anything i said misrepresents/misunderstands the aro/ace spectrum, it is not my intention to say anything that is incorrect, but I am not well-versed in the aro/ace spectrum aside from my ace friends)

[dmc-brainrot]

Eternally Soul Bonded (part 3)

Vergil (DMC5) x Yamato! reader

warnings: reader is a humanoid version of Yamato, reader is completely obssessed with Vergil (mild yandere behaviour), angst, fluff if you squint, mild violence (slapping), rough implicit sex, toxic relationship?? (self-destructive tendencies)

summary: after falling victim to his own desires and indulging in them, Vergil tries once more to reject his most precious possession, you… but what he doesn’t understand is that he is in fact, unable to be away from you again, and you’re dead set in showing it to him. Final part of the Vergil x Yamato fic!

word count: 2.1k

a.n: things get a little edgy in this. I wanted to write a bit more but I think it’s a nice conclusion to this particular storyline. Very sorry for the 5 month hiatus, I got a new laptop and the original draft for this chapter was completely wiped out, so I had little motivation to start again. But here you go! Hoping this appeases the masses. Also, my requests are open so if there’s anything you want to see next, let me know. (request by @misahaze)

It was like your bodies were completely in sync with one another, despite all of this being new to you. The kissing, the touching, the grinding of warm bodies against one another. It was strange, but you had to admit that it felt too good to stop now.

Vergil was completely lost in the moment, his rough calloused hands gripped your white hair roughly, pressing your head down the mattress as if to not let you escape his grasp, while his other hand held onto your side, just as roughly, as his hulking frame moved against you, making the bed creak.

Your body was usually colder than usual, taking in consideration you weren’t really human, but was simply shaped like one, but with the amount of heat emanating from Vergil, it was enough to make you warmer as well. A soft warm mist escaped your lips, and your dark voidless eyes stared right back at Vergil with sick adoration behind them.

“What’s…happening to me?” Shakily escaped Vergil’s lips as he kept grinding his body against yours in a frenetic way, like he couldn’t control the urges his flesh craved. He was breathing hard, his hardened length sliding in and out of you in a haze.

“The same way I’m connected to you… You’re connected to me, Vergil” You responded in a quiet whisper, bringing his face closer to yours with both hands holding his cheeks tenderly.

There was a perverted smile plastered on your face. You could alter your body to any shape you’d like, which was a fun little ability you had discovered a few months ago, and despite your ‘natural’ humanoid form not having any biological features like the others, it wasn’t difficult to simply make them yourself for such an occasion.

With a firm grip on Vergil’s cheeks, you brought his face closer, which was met with great resistance from the man.

“What are you doing?” He asked in a ragged breath, which only made you snicker and smile more.

“Kissing you” You simply responded, first licking his lip slowly with your tongue, before forcibly pushing it in his mouth, spreading his lips apart and bringing him to a sloppy and steamy kiss that, to your surprise, was reciprocated.

You could almost taste the melody that was being made by Vergil’s heart. His movements were rough and out of rhythm as if he was simply following his bodily desires, controlled by them like a puppet without will, but you didn’t hate it. You couldn’t possibly hate it, of course. Any kind of connection you could have with Vergil was exhilarating and this was no different.

“F-Faster…Vergil” You whisper in a shaky breath after you two pull away from your kiss, one of your thumbs rubbing the man’s lower lip tenderly.

“Hng… don’t tell me what to do” Vergil muttered between gritted teeth, but, despite his words, he indeed began to move faster, the sounds of flesh hitting against flesh filling the room in an obscene display of something that wasn’t love, but something darker and more obscure. Obssession perhaps, or self-destruction…

Vergil looked down at himself, his eyebrows twitching, his body shaking and sweating due to their movements. His gaze wandered over your two connected bodies, up your body and finally stopping at your face. He didn’t know why, but every time he looked at you he felt a knot form in his stomach. Maybe it was that unnatural smile on it, or the fact your eyes have looked empty ever since that time you snapped at him.

But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t control himself around you any longer. It was difficult to admit, but this fiery passion, this animalistic desire to be in such a carnal way with you had been nesting within his heart ever since his Devil Trigger was activated by you, and he tried to fight against it so valiently ever since then, convincing himself such urges were exclusive to humans and that he was above that. But here he was, falling victim to those same desires, unable to fight against them anymore.

With a low growl, his grip on you tightened, and with a quick motion, he flipped you over, making you lay on your stomach so he didn’t have to look at your face any longer. Maybe out of embarrassment, shame or something else he couldn’t quite consider.

Your face was now pressed down against the pillows, and you’d complain if you didn’t mind it at all. You could feel Vergil enter you again in this new position and you couldn’t do anything but stifle out a sound when you were connected once more. He used one of his hands to press your head down, gripping the back of it with force. His other hand still on your side to give him leverage while he pounded against you at a relentless pace.

Your vision whitened, there wasn’t anything else you could focus on except for the movement of Vergil’s body against yours. The way he was trying so desperately to keep control, how he was discounting his anger on you with his rough treatment… it was quite amusing for you.

Words were rarely spoken, and you could tell it was bothering him greatly when all he could hear was the lustful sounds your bodies were making, which filled him with shame… but it hardly mattered to you, after all, this is what you were craving the most, having Vergil completely lost to his instincts, the natural necessity of being close to you, as it should be.

“Hng-” With a few more grunts, Vergil could feel himself reaching his limit, the culmination of his shame being manifested in the next thrusts.

After he finished, he tossed you down the bed almost immediately, as if he was trying to get away from you after coming to his senses. He sat up, breathing heavy and shaky as he looked down at you with what could only be interpreted as disgust.

You slowly turned yourself around, sitting up on the bed and meeting his gaze. Despite your nature, you were also breathing quite hard, and your body was covered in sweat. You analyzed his expression, the two of you silently staring at one another after the act for a couple more seconds before he broke the silence.

“…We must never do this again.” He spoke with immediatism, running a hand through his sweat covered hair.

“…You say that as if you weren’t the one who took the initiative to begin with” You responded with amusement lacing your voice.

“It was merely a moment of weakness.” He rebutted, his eyebrow twitching when he spoke.

“Is that what you told yourself when bedding Nero’s mother as well?” You smirk, but that smile is soon met with the thick and warm palm of Vergil’s hand, used to slap you right on the cheek.

The stinging sensation was new and it took you by surprise. Once your gaze met his again you could see his hair was undone once more, and there was real anger behind his eyes. An anger you had never experienced before. Your eyes widened. What was this? Why was this feeling so unnatural to you? You were in tune with all of Vergil’s feelings and emotions, but not whatever this was.

“…What is that?” You asked, your cheek red and swollen.

“I do not wish to hear you any longer.” Vergil spoke, his voice trembling with unforeseen anger.

“…Why did that make you so angry? What is this?” You asked again with utter confusion plastered in your complexion. You had just connected with one another in the most intimate way possible and yet it felt as if you two were… out of sync.

“Cease your blabbering!” Vergil’s voice echoed within the walls of the small apartment you shared.

He soon stood from the bed, grabbing his clothes and, with quivering hands, began to dress himself while you were left on the bed, eyes wide and still unable to process what had just occurred.

“…No, no, no, no, something’s wrong-” You repeat to yourself in a frantic and desperate manner, holding your head with both hands, eyes trembling along with your lips. “W-Why can’t I understand your anger? We are one!”

Vergil didn’t respond, buttoning up the last few buttons of his outfit and running his hand through his hair again to fix it a second time. You watched him all the while, completely broken by the fact you two felt distant once more, even further than previously.

“…Vergil… kiss me again, make love to me again, o-our connection needs to be stronger! Tighter! More passionate! So I can understand… please-” You begged, scampering out of bed and falling to the floor, grabbing his ankles and looking up at him as if you were looking up to a god that was rejecting your helpless prayers.

He looked down at you with disdain. Despite Yamato being all that ever mattered to him, despite him obssessively looking for you for the past two decades, despite everything you’ve endured… right now he was looking at you as if you were nothing, and it tore you apart.

“Let go of me, Yamato” Vergil spoke coldly, and even though he was using that name with you, he had his brows furrowed and his lips turned downward in anger.

“…W-Why? …why is this happening? You started it! You- You wanted  this! Why are you rejecting me now?!” You gripped his ankles tighter, you could feel your teeth grinding against one another. An unbridled sense of rage filling your heart, but a different kind than that which Vergil was feeling.

“…You’ve become human.” Vergil spoke with a slight frown on his face. “This connection is no longer pure.”

“…What?” You asked in a soft tone.

You lightly let go of his ankles and in a wobbly motion stood from the floor to face him, still nude. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This again?

“I’m more than your sword, haven’t you realized this yet? I’ve always had thoughts, feelings and desires, even when I couldn’t express them verbally” You say, clutching your chest, clawing at it. “You think you’re some kind of deity who is superior to feeling things but you’re not  Vergil!” You cry out.

“I am you, you are me. We are connected, you can’t sever what we have simply because you don’t like how it makes you feel” You shakily continue, approaching him and holding his chest. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you? It’s punitive as it is pleasurable to fall from your standards and indulge in what your heart truly desires, isn’t it?”

Vergil waited for you to speak, not moving an inch from his position as you clung to him. He seemed to be considering what you were saying despite his brows still being furrowed and forming an unpleasant expression.

“And what do you suggest then? That we keep indulging in these disgusting acts of ‘love’ whenever we feel like it?” Vergil asked in a mocking tone.

“What is so damning about it? Why can’t you open your heart to me and let all of your desires and emotions flow through?” You asked in a softer tone, caressing his chest in the spot where his heart should be. “It came so naturally to you back then… please, Vergil…”

Accompanied by your soft plead, you rested your cheek against his chest, and surprinsingly, Vergil responded by wrapping his arms gently around your smaller frame.

“…Please accept me as I am.” You whispered against his chest. “…So we can keep being one for all of eternity…”

There was silence after your earnest request, but not an uncomfortable one. You felt Vergil’s hands bring you closer, your bodies pressing against one another, and you could feel the contour of his body through the fabric of his clothes. His large hands held you in place against him with an uncharacteristic tenderness.

And then, he finally spoke.

“…With all the ugly parts… and these disgusting carnal desires…” He began, his voice barely a whisper. “…It’s shameful, really… to lower myself to this and let them take control of my body.”

He squeezed you tighter.

“…But I can’t deny their existence.” He closed his eyes, resting against the top of your head. “…I can’t… fight against them for much longer.”

“…Then don’t.” You respond with an equally weak whisper.

No more words were shared, but your heart was consoled by the fact you felt aligned with Vergil once more. A mutual understanding filling the two of you as you two shared this odd moment.

Whenever you two argued or had a falling out, it was like Vergil was directly fighting against himself and his own wants and needs. He understood that, and yet always tried to reject them.

But not anymore. Not after this. It was useless to fight, fruitless to keep denying his true feelings and desires.

Even if he struggled to admit it, it was true… you two were eternally soul bonded, whether he liked it or not.

[jrob64]

Pet for Rent , Chapter 4/4 (The Happy Ending) A CS Modern AU Story

And so we've reached the end of this little journey. Thank you for reading this story that was one way for me to move through my grief of losing Zeke. Some of you have mentioned that you've lost a pet and reading this has helped you, and that makes me very happy

This chapter earns the story its M rating, but the smut is bracketed by double rows of asterisks and can be easily skipped.

Thanks one more time to @hookedmom, who helped me work out the ending until it was satisfactory to both of us.

Chapter Summary: Henry, Emma, Killian and Winston get their happy ending.

Chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 (The Meet Cute) Ch. 2 (The Idea) Ch. 3 (The Adoption)

Rating: M (See note above)

Words: 9319

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

Story begins under the cut

Winston’s routine between the two households was firmly established during the next month. He spent weekdays with Killian at his apartment, and evenings at Emma and Henry’s house. On the weekends, all four of them spent as much time together as possible.

Emma and Killian were both happy to see that the dog was housebroken and didn’t require a lot of extra work. He did crave attention at times and demonstrated some behaviors that made them think he still had some puppy in him, but the three humans were consistent in their training to stop him from jumping up and barking excessively.

From the very first night he spent with them, he didn’t need to be put outside until morning, and slept soundly on Henry’s bed. The boy and dog formed a fast friendship and once again, Emma had her happy-go-lucky son back. He kept a picture of Ernie on his dresser and mentioned how much he still missed him from time to time, but the joy of having a new dog was healing his heart.

On Fridays and Saturdays, Killian would stay for a few hours after Emma got Henry into bed. They watched television, had lengthy conversations and kissed…a lot. Once they were sure Winston was acclimated to his new environment, they were able to plan another date to eat out and see a movie.

Their relationship was deepening, but they had yet to declare their love for one another. Killian was sure of his feelings for Emma, but didn’t want to spook her by saying anything. Emma wanted to make sure what she felt wasn’t just an infatuation. She had only fallen in love with one other man and had her heart shattered into a million pieces. She couldn’t afford to be wrong about her feelings again, especially since she now had Henry to take into consideration.

The bond between Henry and Killian was getting stronger as well. The two of them watched sporting events on TV, played video games, worked on training Winston and built Lego sets together. Emma was happy her son had a male figure in his life now, but worried about what would happen if Killian decided to move away from Storybrooke.

The first substantial snowfall of the season happened on a Friday in early December. School was letting out at noon due to the storm, which put Emma in a bind. Ashley couldn’t watch him because she was away for the weekend. Emma had already arranged to take off work at three o’clock instead of five, but she wasn’t able to leave another three hours early.

When she considered who else would be willing to help, the next person who came to mind was Killian. As she quickly placed the call, she tapped her fingernails nervously on the desk.

He answered before she even heard it connect. “Swan! This is a nice surprise.”

“You might not think so when I tell you why I’m calling.”

She could hear the instant concern in his voice when he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“They’re letting school out in half an hour because of the weather and Ashley is out of town. I can’t get off work until three o’clock and I need somebody to pick Henry up and watch him until…”

“Calm down, Love,” he interrupted. “Winston and I will pick him up and take him home.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to take you away from your work…”

“No worries. I’m finished for the day because I already put in extra hours this week.”

“Oh, good,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’ll call the school and tell them you’ll be picking him up. Since you’re not an authorized pick-up person, you’ll have to go inside to fill out a form when you get there. I’ll also text Mary Margaret and let her know. I really, really appreciate this, Killian.”

“It’s truly no problem, Love. I’ll get Winston ready to go right now. We should be there in about twenty minutes. Will that work?”

“That’s perfect. I need to warn you that it’s probably going to be a bit chaotic in the school office because of the early release.”

“Duly noted. I’ll send you a text when I’ve collected Henry and we’re in the car ready to go home.”

“Thanks, again. You’re a lifesaver.”

Ending the call, she sent up a prayer of thanks and went back to work.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma was right about the chaos in the office. Killian had to wait several minutes before they could verify who he was and hand him a form to complete. Just as he was signing his name at the bottom, Mary Margaret ushered Henry in the door, along with two of her other students, whose parents were also waiting.

“Killian!” Henry cried, spotting him immediately.

“Hello, lad. Your mom asked me to pick you up.”

“Yeah, Mrs. Nolan told me. Thanks!”

“You’ll have to sign him out,” Mary Margaret explained, gesturing to the line of parents who were waiting to do that very thing. “Be careful driving home.”

“Thank you. You do the same,” Killian responded, stepping behind the last person in line.

Once Henry was properly signed out, they slipped and slid through the accumulating snow to where Killian had parked the car. Winston started barking from inside as soon as he caught sight of his boy.

While Henry greeted the dog and got himself buckled in, Killian texted Emma, then started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. So far, the snow was just making the roads slushy, but with such precious cargo in the back seat, he drove with extra caution.

By the time Emma arrived home three hours later, the snow was making travel hazardous. Killian heard her come in the door and paused the video game he and Henry were playing.

She was stomping off her boots and shaking the snow out of her hair when he greeted her. “Did you have any trouble, Love?”

“The roads are terrible and the snow is picking up, which means they’re only going to get worse.”

He helped her out of her coat and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall. As she sat on a bench to pull off her boots, he scratched behind his ear and said wistfully, “Perhaps I should just go home now, if they’re getting that bad.”

She glanced up at him, then back down as she finished her task. Once both of her boots were sitting on the rug, she stood and looked toward the living room. “What’s Henry doing?”

“We were playing a video game. He’s probably waiting for me to rejoin him.”

“Let me go say hi to him, then I have something to ask you.”

“Okay, but first…” he said, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a tender kiss. “Welcome home, Love. I’m very glad you made it safely.”

“Mmm, me too, especially when I get a greeting like that.” After giving him one more kiss, she linked their hands and led the way to the living room. Henry was sitting on the couch petting Winston, who was laying beside him. Both of them perked up when the adults entered the room, a wide grin splitting Henry’s face, while Winston thumped his tail on the cushions.

“Hey, kid. How was school today?”

“Great! I wish we could get out early every day!”

Emma laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it. Were you able to go to art class? I know how you look forward to it.”

“We still got to go and I finished my Rainbow Fish project. It turned out really good!”

“Oh, yeah? Did you bring it home?”

“No, it had to finish drying. Mrs. Fisher said she wants to hang it up in the hallway.”

“Maybe I’ll schedule a day to come in and have lunch with you, and you can show it to me then. How does that sound?”

“Cool! I love it when you have lunch with me!”

“I know. I love it, too. Let me know when it’s hung up, okay?” She watched him nod his agreement, then asked, “What have you three boys been up to this afternoon?”

“We went out and played in the snow for a little while, but it got too windy and cold. Killian made hot chocolate when we came inside. Winston loved the snow, didn’t you, boy?”

“He was trying to catch all of the snowflakes,” Killian laughed. “Then he started eating the snow on the ground. He’s such a funny pooch.”

“Show her the picture you took, Killian,” Henry urged.

Killian pulled his phone out of his front pocket and opened his photo gallery. Holding it so Emma could see, he said, “I took several pictures and a couple of videos.”

As he started scrolling through them, he didn’t see the doey-eyed look she gave him before directing her attention to what he was showing her. When he came to the last picture, she burst out laughing. In it, Henry was kneeling on the ground beside Winston, who had snow all over his muzzle.

“He looks like he has a white beard,” she giggled.

“Aye, Whitebeard the Weird, distant relative of Blackbeard the Pirate,” Killian chuckled.

Emma laughed again, then asked her son, “Where did you put your wet clothes?”

“Killian put them in the dryer.”

“Henry showed me where it was located.”

“Thank you. He usually lets them lay in a heap inside the door.” Turning back to Henry, she said, “What else did you do?”

He picked up the Nintendo Switch controller, gesturing to the TV with it. “We played video games until you got home.”

“Sounds like you guys had a good time.”

“We did,” Henry assured her. “And don’t worry, Mom. I thanked Killian for everything.”

“Aye, he did. Henry has very good manners, don’t you, lad?” Killian said, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Yeah. Are you ready to finish our game?”

“Your mother wanted to talk to me about something first, then I should probably head home. She said the roads are getting bad.”

Henry’s shoulders drooped. “But I thought you would stay like you always do on Fridays.”

Emma said, “Henry, why don’t you play a game by yourself for a while, so I can talk to Killian?”

“Can I play Mario Kart?”

“You know the rules - only if you turned in all of your homework and didn’t get your card pulled for bad behavior this week.”

He jumped off the couch and grabbed his book bag from the recliner where he had tossed it when he got home. Unzipping it, he pulled out a folder and handed it to his mom.

She took it and pulled out the papers from the ‘keep at home’ side, placing them on the end table to look at later. Then she took a sheet from the ‘return to school’ pocket. After looking it over, she gave Henry a smile and kissed him on the forehead. “Good job, kid. I’m proud of you.”

While he was putting the folder back in his bag, she went to the closet and got the treasured game off the shelf above the coat rack. As soon as he got the game set up and was fully engaged in choosing his racer, Emma motioned for Killian to follow her into the kitchen.

She leaned against the front of the sink out of Henry’s line of sight, and Killian stood in front of her, his hands on her hips. “What did you want to talk to me about, Swan?” he asked, a concerned crease across his forehead.

Her eyes remained focused on the floor for several moments. When she finally looked up, there were tears in them.

He stepped closer, dipping his head to scan her face. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answered quickly. “I just…I…I think I love you.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Wh-what?”

“I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you, Killian Jones.”

He surged forward, claiming the lips that just uttered the words which were music to his ears. He could have kissed her for hours, but he needed to ask her a question. “When?”

“When did I fall in love with you?” she asked, seeking to clarify.

“Aye. When did you know?”

She licked her lips. “I think I’ve been falling for you since the first day we met, but I wanted to make sure it’s really love that I feel. I’ve been burned before, and with Henry to consider, I didn’t want to jump right into a serious relationship. Then today, I just…I realized…I mean, you’re there for me, for us. You’re wonderful with Henry and it…it’s not because you’re trying to impress me or win my affections through my son. You honestly seem to like spending time with him. You dropped everything to pick him up today and then, those videos and pictures…you took videos and pictures of my kid because you were having fun with him.”

She paused for a second and he waited, understanding she needed to gather her thoughts. “But it’s not just because of Henry. That’s important, but it…it’s the way you make me feel. I love every minute we spend together. I can never get enough of being with you. As soon as you leave, I immediately look forward to the next time we’ll see each other. I…I…oh hell, I’m rambling and not making any sense.”

“You’re making perfect sense. I completely understand what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?”

He framed her face with his hands, brushing the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs. “Aye, because I feel the same way. You’re the best part of my day, whether we’re texting, talking, or actually together. I truly do love spending time with Henry because he’s such a great kid and I would never use him to try to impress you, Emma.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I’ve known for a while, too. That I love you. I’m in love with you, Emma Swan.”

The brightness of her smile was nearly blinding and it was her turn to initiate the fiery kiss. Afterwards, they stood with their foreheads pressed together, while her fingers played with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Can I ask you something?” she whispered.

“Of course, Love. Anything.”

She looked into his eyes. “Are you still thinking about moving away from Storybrooke?”

“No,” he answered without hesitation. “I’ve got every reason in the world to stay right here.”

“Good.”

He kissed her sweetly, then sighed. “I hate to ruin this moment, but I really should get started for home. The road conditions are probably worsening by the minute.”

“Actually, that was the original reason I wanted to talk to you. I was thinking that maybe…you could…stay here tonight.”

“Why, Swan,” he teased, “are you inviting me to a sleepover?”

“Well, it would be a very adult sleepover,” she said, watching him closely to gauge his reaction.

He tilted his head and studied her for a moment or two. “Are you saying…you want me to actually sleep with you?”

“I guess we would sleep eventually…”

“Emma, are you sure you’re ready to take that next step?”

“You’re not?”

“I’m not saying that at all,” he said quickly. “I just…would you be comfortable having me stay with you when Henry is right down the hall? We could…we could wait until we’re at my place, if you’d rather.”

“This isn’t spur of the moment, Killian. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I think Henry is too young to understand what it means for you to spend the night and still be here in the morning. He just loves having you here and is always sad to see you leave. I’m not saying it’s going to be something that happens every night…”

“I wouldn’t expect that, especially during the week, but perhaps on the weekends?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Of course, we might be jumping the gun to consider more than tonight. You might be appalled by my snoring, drooling, or what I look like first thing in the morning. Or maybe we won’t be…compatible…in bed.”

He grinned. “I highly doubt that will be the case, Emma. Ever since the day we met, I’ve felt like we have a connection to each other that goes beyond friendship. I can’t imagine that not transferring to the bedroom. As far as your snoring and drooling, I’m sure I’ll find it to be absolutely adorable.”

“Whatever you say,” she scoffed. “But when you wake up with my morning breath in your face, you might change your mind.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” he smirked.

She began playing with the buttons on his shirt. “There’s, um…there’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

“What’s that, Love?”

After stepping away from him to check on Henry in the other room, she returned to face him again. “I haven’t been…intimate with anyone since Henry’s father. Henry is my world and everything else has taken a back seat.”

“Which is quite understandable,” Killian said. “It’s been a while for me, too. After getting hurt like I did, I was in no hurry to be with another woman. You have changed so many things in my life, Emma, and I’m anxious to begin this next chapter with you and Henry.”

“Don’t forget Winston,” she quipped.

“How could I forget Winston?” he laughed.

“Okay, so how about we get some supper and watch a movie like we usually do on Friday nights? My guess is that after the excitement of the day, Henry will be asleep before it’s over.”

“That sounds wonderful, Love. What were you planning to eat?”

“I was planning to order pizza, but with the roads the way they are, I think we better go with plan B.”

“Which is…?”

“I have no idea.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Do you mind if I search your cupboards a bit?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and crooned, “You can search anything you want.”

“Swan, are you flirting with me to get me riled up?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased.

“Perhaps I would,” she answered, before scattering kisses along his throat.

“Bad form, Love,” he groaned.

“You don’t like it?” she asked innocently, looking up at him through her lashes.

“I like it too much, that’s the problem,” he said, pressing his hips against hers so she could feel the effect she was having on him.

“Okay, I’ll stop…for now,” she said. She started to move away and he reluctantly released her. “Dig around to your heart’s content and I’ll go see what movie Henry wants to watch.”

Killian ended up making spaghetti with garlic toast for supper. Afterwards, they watched “Luck” on AppleTV, while munching on chocolate chip cookies Emma whipped up. She and Killian managed to make the food while sharing lots of kisses in the kitchen.

Henry didn’t question Killian staying instead of going home; he was simply happy to carry on with their usual Friday evening routine. He made it through the movie without falling asleep, but was reluctant to move when it ended. Emma realized that he wanted Killian to carry him to his room, which he did, making her heart melt as she watched.

While Emma took Henry through his bedtime routine, Killian put Winston outside to do his business. Although he had cleared the patio of snow earlier in the evening, it was covered again.

When he took Winston into Henry’s room after toweling him off, he reported, “I’d say there’s at least six inches of snow and it’s still coming down.”

“Oh, boy!” Henry exclaimed, perking up. “Can you come over tomorrow to play in it with us again?”

Killian scratched behind his ear, looking to Emma for help.

“Actually kid, Killian is going to stay here overnight,” she said.

“He is?”

“Yeah. The roads are pretty bad and I didn’t want him to risk driving home. Is that okay with you?”

Henry gave her a puzzled look. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

Emma shrugged. “He’s never spent the night here before.”

“Well, he should, because we’re usually together all day on Saturdays, too. It doesn’t make sense for him to go home.”

Killian and Emma exchanged a look, then he bid the boy goodnight, patted Winston and left the room so she could read to her son.

After kissing Henry and closing the door to his room, she found Killian sitting on the couch. “Well, I guess that answers the question of whether it’s going to bother Henry,” she said, plopping down beside him.

“Aye,” he chuckled, but she noticed he didn’t look at her.

“Hey,” she said, reaching to take his hand. “Is something wrong?”

“I, uh, I…if we’re going to take that next step in our relationship, I’m concerned about what to do because I don’t have any kind of protection.”

“Well, I obviously don’t have any STDs and I assume you don’t, either.”

“I don’t, but what about preventing you from getting pregnant?”

“Oh, that’s not a problem. I have an IUD. My doctor suggested it because I had such heavy periods after Henry was born.”

“Well, that is a relief,” he said, finally looking at her. “Did Henry fall asleep while you were reading to him?”

“He was out before I read half a page. He actually held out longer than I thought.”

“Tomorrow will be another fun day in the snow for him.”

She turned on the sofa to face him, draping her legs over his. “I was meaning to ask you - did you bring along clothes to wear out in the snow?”

“Aye. Liam advised that I keep extra clothes in the car during the winter months, so I changed into them once we came inside.”

“Did you dry them with Henry’s clothes?”

“I did. I hope that was alright.”

“Of course. I want you to make yourself at home here. I was thinking it might be nice to put up the Christmas tree tomorrow.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure Henry loves doing that.”

“Oh yes, he really gets into it,” she laughed. “Although I’m sure you can’t imagine him getting excited about anything!”

Her sarcasm made him chuckle. “That’s one reason why I enjoy being with him so much. He’s enthusiastic about everything.”

“You clearly haven’t seen him do his chores.”

“Well, that’s true,” he agreed with a grin. “I suppose that’s typical for a kid.”

“Not just a kid. I hate doing chores, too.”

“You know,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to pull her into his lap, “I could think of much better things to talk about than chores.”

She adjusted herself so her knees were on either side of his hips, her hands on his shoulders and her forehead resting against his. “Like the fact that I love you?”

“Aye, that’s a much better subject,” he said, nuzzling her nose. They indulged in a long, slow kiss, while their hands roamed each other’s body. “I love you, too,” Killian murmured against her lips. In response, she deepened the kiss and adjusted her position, putting more pressure on his groin. “Swan…” he rasped.

“Maybe we should move to the bedroom,” she whispered in his ear.

The tickling sensation and implication of her words served to increase his arousal. “I like that idea, Love.”

She kissed him one more time, then pushed herself off of him. Threading her fingers through his, she tugged him to his feet. As they quietly moved down the hall, Emma stopped outside Henry’s door, listening intently. Giving a nod, they continued into her bedroom and she closed the door behind them.

“He’s out for the night,” she commented.

“You can tell that just by listening for a few seconds?”

“He’s a mouth breather, a loud one. He probably needs to have his tonsils and adenoids removed, but up until now, I haven’t had a job with good insurance. I just haven’t taken him to the doctor yet.”

“What about Winston?”

“If he needs his tonsils and adenoids out, I’ll let you pay for it,” she teased.

“You’re hilarious, Swan,” he remarked, trying to look stern, but failing to keep the smile from taking over his face.

“Yeah, I know,” she smirked. “Winston has slept through the night since the first night we brought him home.”

“In that case,” Killian said, sauntering into her personal space, “I guess the night is ours.”

“I guess so,” she said, then nervously pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Tilting his head, he looked into her eyes for several seconds, then brushed some locks of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Emma, please don’t feel like we have to go ahead with this if you’re…”

“No, Killian,” she interrupted firmly. “I really want this, I’m just…out of practice, I guess.”

He put his hands on her waist and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Relax, Love. Just let things happen naturally, and if they don’t, then we sleep instead. No pressure, okay?”

“You know, the first time I saw you, I had to convince myself you were real. I was sure no one as handsome as you could actually exist. And now, you say something like that and I have to convince myself that you’re real all over again. I mean, when a guy’s girlfriend is offering them sex, how many would say it’s okay if it doesn’t happen?”

“Probably more than you think. I would hope there are more gentlemen than rogues out there.”

Emma thought about that for a few moments, before saying, “I should wash my face and brush my teeth. Why don’t you, um, get comfortable in here and I’ll go take care of that.”

He watched her leave the room, then ran his hands through his hair. He longed to show Emma how much he loved her, but the last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable or pressured in any way. After stripping down to his navy blue boxers and white T-shirt, he sat on the bed to wait for her to return.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, she was quietly berating herself in the mirror. “You have this sweet, sexy, perfect boyfriend in your bedroom and you come running in here like a scared rabbit. What is wrong with you?” she asked her reflection. When she didn’t receive an answer, she sighed, tossed a washcloth into the sink and turned on the hot water.

After she finished in the bathroom and padded back to her room, she tapped lightly on the door before entering. Killian looked up at her from his seat on the bed, concern etched on his face. “Alright there, Swan?”

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. I, um, I laid an extra toothbrush out for you if you wanted to, um, brush your teeth,” she stammered.

“Thank you, Love.” He stood up and slipped out the door.

Emma used the time to change out of her clothes and into a turquoise nightshirt that barely covered her underwear. She was standing in front of her dresser brushing her hair when she heard a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she said, when it didn’t open right away.

As Killian entered, she saw his reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him before he left the room; but now, she saw that he was utterly tantalizing in very little clothing. It made her mouth go dry, but at the same time, made all of her nervousness vanish.

Turning toward him, she saw the anticipation on his face and quickly crossed the space between them. Standing in front of him, she reached up and cupped his face, then pulled him down to connect their lips, trying to pour every ounce of her love into the kiss.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her snugly against himself. She’d been in his arms many times, but there were always more layers of clothing between them. Feeling his well-defined chest pressed against hers and his strong back under her roaming hands, she could feel her own body reacting.

Finally breaking the kiss, she said breathlessly, “I’m sorry for being so hesitant. I asked you to stay and then I let my nerves and insecurities get to me. It’s just that, in the past, people were always letting me down…”

“Let me assure you, Love,” he said, softly stroking the tips of his fingers over her cheek, “I don’t intend to let you down or hurt you in any way. You mean far too much to me to ever let that happen, trust me.”

Her eyes searched his, knowing she would see nothing but sincerity and love in them. “I do trust you,” she whispered. Taking his hands, she backed up until the backs of her knees hit the bed, then sat down and pulled him down beside her.

*********

*********

“I’m yours,” she said. “Make love to me, Killian.”

Twisting his body, he embraced her, then rolled them until he was on top of her in the middle of the mattress. “As you wish,” he grinned.

They took their time undressing each other between impassioned kisses, their lips finding the skin that was revealed with every discarded article of clothing. Killian paid special attention to Emma’s bare breasts when he removed her shirt, his mouth and calloused fingers on the sensitive flesh making her body sizzle with desire.

When she pushed his boxers down his legs, her eyes widened as she took in the size of his manhood. Her hand wrapped around it, the smooth skin feeling like satin on her palm.

As she slowly stroked him, his fingers moved between her thighs, feeling the damp heat. She widened her legs as one finger made its way inside her. “Killiannn,” she whined.

“Does that feel good?” he murmured into her ear.

“Yesss…so good.”

“What you’re doing feels good to me, too,” he assured her. He pushed himself up to lean on one elbow, sweeping his eyes up and down her form. “Gods, Emma. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen,” he praised. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

Her hands moved to his chest, fingers swirling through the generous dusting of hair. “So are you.” The fingers of one hand followed the dark trail of hair down his belly and between his legs to fondle his testicles, satisfied when she heard his sharp intake of breath.

They continued to explore, working one another up until both were panting and pleading. Killian took his time ensuring that Emma was prepared, using his fingers around and inside her opening to make her slick with arousal. At the same time, her attention to his cock and the way she scratched her fingernails over the skin of his chest and back made him the hardest he’d ever been.

As he sucked love marks into the soft skin of her breast and rubbed his thumb over her clit, she gasped, “Killian, I…I’m ready.”

He looked up at her through his long, dark lashes. Her skin was flushed, her tongue licking at her kiss-swollen lips. As his eyes connected with her lust-filled green ones, a rush of love and longing crashed over him. “I love you, Emma,” he said, moving up to seal the declaration with another kiss.

“I love you, too. So much,” she replied, running her fingers through his damp strands of hair. Then she shifted on the bed so he could settle between her thighs.

Holding himself above her on one elbow, he reached down to grasp his cock, rubbing it through her slick, wet folds, then slowly began pushing forward. His eyes scanned up her body to study her face, hoping to catch any sign of discomfort in her features. He halted his progress when he detected a slight grimace. “Does that hurt?” he asked.

“No, no,” she assured him. “It burns a little, but mostly it feels…amazing. Please don’t stop.”

He was happy to hear those words, because being only partially inside her felt incredible, and he yearned to keep going. Dropping his elbow down to the other side of her body, he pulled back a little, then pressed forward again, going deeper inch by inch, until he was fully engulfed in her warm, tight sheath.

Resting his head on her chest, he ground out, “Bloody hell, Emma. You feel fucking fantastic.”

She skimmed her hands through his hair. “It feels like you were made for me,” she whispered. Bending her knees, she pulled her feet up beside his hips and gave a slight thrust of her pelvis.

He got the hint and began rocking slowly, savoring every moan and gasp from her. Sensing that she had adjusted to his size, he pulled out until only his tip was still inside, then slid all the way back in with one stroke, gradually picking up the pace.

“Faster…deeper,” she begged.

He obliged, thrusting into her several times in quick succession. Her hips raised off the bed to meet him every time, while her fingers gripped his hair almost painfully.

“Killian, I can’t…I’m going to…”

“Let go, Love,” he encouraged, knowing she was right on the edge.

Throbbing heat and a sudden flood of wetness around his cock told him that she followed his command. She crossed her ankles behind his back, trying to pull him closer, while her head thrashed back and forth on the pillow.

He stilled within her, trying to delay his own climax. As good as it felt to have her pulsing around him, he didn’t want it to end so soon.

“T-top,” she mumbled.

“You want to be on top?”

“Mmhmm.”

After wrapping his arms around her, he carefully rolled them over. Emma planted her hands on his chest and pushed herself up, her knees tight against his hips. His hands gripped her forearms as she began lifting and lowering her pelvis, his cock sliding in, then almost out of her over and over again.

Killian was muttering a steady string of praises, telling her how perfect she was and how good she felt. Raising his head, his mouth found one of her nipples, alternately rolling his tongue over it and sucking hard. The effect caused her rhythm to stutter and she threw her head back, letting out a long, guttural moan of his name.

Feeling his release growing imminently closer, he started thrusting up into her. His hand moved down to find her clit, rubbing it roughly as he groaned, “Come again, Emma. Please come, Love. I…I can’t…”

  With one final slide down on him, she did, shuddering and shaking as she cried out, “Yes! Yes, Killian!”

Watching her ecstasy, hearing her shouts and feeling her pulse around him brought him to his peak, too. He jerked and spasmed, spurting hot streams of cum inside her.

When she collapsed on top of him several moments later, he held her close, murmuring words of adoration into her hair. Gradually, their breathing and heart rates returned to normal, and Killian groped around the bed, finding the blanket and pulling it over the top of them.

*********

*********

Emma sighed happily, pressing kisses to his throat and collarbone. “That was amazing! I know it’s been a while, but I don’t remember sex ever being that good.”

“Well, that’s because you’ve never done it with me before,” he chuckled. Hearing her hum of agreement, he added, “It’s never been like that for me, either. Then again, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. I think that’s what made it so much more intense and meaningful.”

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his sternum, looking into his face. “I’m sure you’re right about that. I’m very glad we decided to take this next step. I feel like we’re more closely connected now.” She wiggled her hips, causing his softening length to shift inside her. “In more ways than one.”

He grinned and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears. “Meeting you and Henry is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Leaning forward, she kissed him; a slow, tender kiss that communicated her feelings more than words ever could. They cuddled a while longer before Emma slipped her shirt back on and went to the bathroom to clean up, bringing a warm washcloth back so Killian could do the same. After he put his boxers on and visited the bathroom himself, they burrowed under the covers, intertwining themselves and sharing more kisses until they finally drifted off to sleep - content, sated and thoroughly in love.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma awoke slowly the next morning, the smell of coffee tickling her nose. When her foggy brain remembered what happened the night before, she reached over to find the other side of the bed empty. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and stretched.

She felt pleasantly sore in all the right places and smiled when she remembered how she had awakened in the middle of the night to find Killian watching her sleep. The sliver of moonlight seeping in through the slight opening between the curtains illuminated his mischievous blue eyes. It was then she realized he had worked her shirt up above her breasts and was gently massaging them. Soon they were engaged in round two, finding more ways to bring pleasure to one another.

Flinging back the blanket, she grabbed a robe out of her closet and put it on as she walked down the hall. She could hear Henry chattering before she reached the kitchen.

“...and after we play in the snow, we can play more games and watch movies and…”

“Slow down, lad,” she heard Killian say, his gruff morning voice sending shivers down her spine. “I think your mother has some plans for us today.”

“That’s right,” she said, joining them. “I think you’ll like what I have planned.” Peeking over Henry’s shoulder, she asked, “What are you eating, kid?”

“Killian made egg in a basket!” he said excitedly. “It’s really good and he told me he would teach you how to make it too, if you want.”

“Is that so?” she asked, passing behind the ‘chef’ and discreetly pinching his side.

“Bad form, Swan,” he chided playfully. “And to think I made coffee and breakfast for you.”

“Sorry,” she said, stretching to her tiptoes to kiss the underside of his scruffy jaw. He turned so her next kiss was to his lips.

“You guys are being gross,” Henry complained, making the couple laugh. “So what are we doing today, Mom?”

She poured herself a mug of coffee, splashed some creamer into it, then leaned against the counter to take a sip before answering, “I thought we would put up the Christmas tree and decorate it. How does that sound?”

“YAY!” Henry shouted. Winston started barking from where he lay under the table.

“Winston, enough!” Killian commanded and the dog quieted immediately.

“Good morning, sweet boy,” Emma said, bending down to ruffle his ears. “I didn’t see you under there.” Straightening up, she asked her son, “Did you already feed him?”

Henry’s ears reddened. “Uh, no. I forgot.”

Emma gave him a stern look. “You know you’re supposed to feed your dog before you sit down to eat, young man.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, hopping out of his seat and going to the pantry where the dog’s food was stored.

“Apologize to Winston, not me.”

Henry scooped out the food and dumped it into Winston’s bowl. “I’m sorry, boy,” he said, as he set it down beside the refrigerator where the dog sat waiting.

Killian laughed as he watched Winston inhaling his food like he was afraid it was going to disappear. “I think he forgives you, lad.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I already put him outside to do his business. The snow is up to his belly, but he found a spot by the side of the house that wasn’t quite as deep.”

“How long have you been up?” she questioned.

Killian glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Almost an hour.”

“Wow, you’re a morning person. It usually takes me half-an-hour just to pry my eyes open and get out of bed, especially on a Saturday.”

“Well, you know what they say - opposites attract,” he said, setting a plate of food in front of her and sitting down beside her with his own.

As they began to eat, Henry returned to the table and asked, “When are we gonna put up the tree, Mom?”

“You can help decide. Do you want to do it before or after we play in the snow?”

He thought for a second. “Let’s go outside first. Can we bake gingerbread cookies like we did last year, when we decorated the tree?”

“I’m afraid not. We don’t have the necessary ingredients for that kind of cookie.”

Seeing Henry’s disappointed look, Killian said, “I know a good recipe for sugar cookies. Do you like that kind? I know your mother has all the ingredients for them.”

Henry perked up again. “Yeah! Can we decorate them? We have sprinkles left from when you tried to make cupcakes for Avery’s birthday, remember?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that fiasco,” Emma groaned, making Henry giggle.

Killian looked between the two of them. “Why was it a fiasco?”

She covered her face with her hands as she answered, “I forgot the baking powder.”

“Do you mean to say,” he began, trying to contain his laughter, “that you baked cupcakes and didn’t put any baking powder in them?”

Dropping her hands, she replied indignantly, “Hey, it happens to the best of us. I’ve seen episodes of the Great British Baking Show where the bakers forget to put in key ingredients.”

“Point taken. Did you take the cupcakes to the party?”

“Are you kidding? They looked like hockey pucks! Of course I didn’t take them to the party.”

Killian laughed heartily, while Emma tried and failed to give him a reproving look. Instead, she dissolved into laughter, too.

“Mom picked up cupcakes at the grocery on the way to the party,” Henry said, then shoved another bite of food into his mouth.

“Well, I promised to bring them, so I had to do something.”

“Very resourceful, Swan.”

By the end of breakfast, they had the day’s schedule worked out. They played in the snow as soon as they were all dressed, then drank hot chocolate and baked cookies. While waiting for the cookies to be cool enough to ice and decorate, Henry and Killian brought the small artificial tree in from the garage.

As they were setting it up, Emma explained, “Henry wants to have a live tree, but I told him he needs to be a little older, because I don’t think I could get one unloaded and set up by myself.”

“Ah, well, if it weren’t for the fact we’re snowed in today, I could have helped you with that,” Killian said. “Perhaps next year.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I hope we’ll still be together by then.”

He pulled her against him, wrapping her in his warm embrace. “I have every confidence we will, Love.”

The day was the most fun any of them could remember. They decorated cookies and the tree while listening to Christmas music, played some board games, then watched two Christmas movies with only the lights from the tree and television illuminating the living room. Killian sat on the couch between Emma and Henry, both of whom were snuggled close to his side.

Emma and Killian shared many affectionate caresses and kisses throughout the day, unable to keep from touching each other. That evening, after Henry and Winston were in bed, they spooned on the sofa, quietly discussing plans for the next day, Christmas and New Years Eve.

Both of them were hopeful and excited about their future together.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Eight Months Later

“Great pass, Nicholas!” Killian shouted, running along the sidelines to coach his players. “Keep it under control, Grace! Get open, Henry! There he is! Pass it, Grace!”

As Henry’s kick sent the soccer ball flying into the goal, Emma leaped from her seat with a cheer, causing Winston to jump up and start barking. Everyone around them laughed, used to the excitable black dog who was always at the games to watch his young master.

When the game ended, Killian’s team was victorious for the third week in a row. Henry shook hands with the other team, then sprinted over to his mom and Winston.

“Good game, kid!” Emma exclaimed, returning his hug. “Your team is doing great this year.”

“That’s because we have the best coach in the whole world!” he beamed, taking Winston’s leash from her as the dog jumped around him enthusiastically.

Emma watched Killian gather his clipboard and Henry’s water bottle. Several parents approached him to offer their words of appreciation, and she smiled as he humbly accepted them.

He really was too good to be true, except that he absolutely was…and he was hers.

She turned to fold up her lawn chair and collect Winston’s favorite ducky toy, and soon felt two strong arms wrap around her from behind.

“Congratulations, coach,” she said, twisting in his arms to kiss him.

“Thank you, Love. The team is really starting to gel, don’t you think?”

“That’s because, as Henry just said, they have the best coach in the world.”

“He said that?” Killian asked, rubbing self-consciously behind his ear.

“Yeah, and I agree. They love playing for you, Babe.”

“Well, they’re fun to coach. I’m glad you talked me into it.”

“Pfft,” Emma scoffed. “I’m not the one who did it. It was that nine-year-old con artist who lives with us.”

“He can be quite persuasive,” he conceded. “Takes after his mother.”

“Hey!” she said, lightly slapping his chest. “I never talk you into doing things you don’t want to do.”

“That’s very true,” he murmured into her ear. “I’m always up for what you want me to do.”

She giggled and engaged him in another kiss, only to be interrupted by a loud, exasperated, “Mom! Killian! You guys are embarrassing!”

They broke apart with a laugh. “Sorry, kid,” Emma said, not sounding one bit apologetic. “Ready to go home?”

“Actually, Henry and I thought it might be fun to go to the nature preserve this morning,” Killian said. “Is that alright with you, Swan?”

“Sounds good to me. I’m glad I wore sneakers instead of sandals.”

They headed to the car and were soon on their way to the preserve. Emma noticed Killian shifting in his seat and nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Oh, um, aye. Just working out some energy left over from the game.”

She studied him for several more moments, then shrugged slightly and turned to ask Henry what he wanted for lunch when they got home, later.

There were several cars in the main parking lot at the preserve, so Killian kept driving until they reached a more remote section. Winston always got distracted if there were too many people around, so they tried to stick to the paths that weren’t likely to be as busy.

Once they found a place to park and were out of the car, Henry and Winston started along the path that led into the woods. Emma and Killian trailed behind, falling into easy conversation, as always. Their current topic was Belle and Liam, who were due to return from their honeymoon the following day. Despite being wed at the beginning of June, the couple waited to go on their trip until August, because Liam could get airline tickets for a much better price late in the summer.

“Bloody wanker, always after a discount,” Killian grumbled, not for the first time. “Even for his honeymoon!”

“Belle didn’t seem to mind,” Emma pointed out. “She was excited because the best time to see Beluga Whales in Alaska is during the month of August. I hope they were able to see some.”

“Aye, me too. That’s probably the reason Liam booked it for this month, anyway. He just wants to make everyone think he’s a miser.”

Emma wrapped her arm around his more tightly and leaned into him. “I definitely got the better brother,” she stated playfully.

“That you did, Love,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple.

After hiking for twenty minutes, they came to their favorite spot on the path - a small fishing pond surrounded by tall, reedy grass and cattails. Henry and Winston started exploring the perimeter of the water, in search of frogs. Ever since finding one at this pond earlier in the summer, they were determined to find another.

“Care to sit down for a bit, Love?” Killian asked, indicating a wooden bench.

“Yeah. I’m sure the two of them will want to stay here a while.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, listening to the chirping of birds and buzz of insects. Finally, Killian turned to her and said, “We’ve known each other for almost a year now, haven’t we?”

“We met in September, so it’ll be a year next month.”

“It’s been the best year of my life.”

“Mmhmm. Mine, too. Especially these last three months when you officially moved in with us.”

“Well, I did have to live somewhere, since the lease on my apartment was up,” he teased.

“Oh, so now the truth comes out,” she shot back with a giggle.

“Aye,” he sighed dramatically. “I only love you for your house.”

“You’re so full of it, Jones,” she said, elbowing him in the side.

He leaned back and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side, both of them watching Henry and Winston chasing what looked like a dragonfly.

“Those two are something else,” she remarked.

“They’re both good boys. I’m very lucky to be part of their lives.”

Emma hummed. “We’re all very lucky to have you in our lives.”

After another lengthy pause, he murmured, “I love you, Emma.”

“I love you, too.”

He slipped from his seat and knelt in front of her. “Enough to marry me?” he asked, looking up into her eyes, widened in surprise.

“Killian…wh-what are you doing?” she stammered.

“Isn’t it obvious, Love? I’m proposing. But I guess I’ve forgotten something, haven’t I?” Unbuttoning the pocket on the side of his cargo shorts, he reached in and withdrew a diamond solitaire ring, holding it up between them. “Emma, we may have met because of a mistake, but I don’t think of it that way. I’m convinced it was God’s plan for us to meet in just the right place at exactly the right time. You, Henry and Winston are the center of my world and that’s where I want you to be for the rest of my life. So, Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

She brushed at the tears trickling down her cheeks as a huge smile crossed her face. “Yes, Killian! Of course I’ll marry you!”

He took her trembling hand in his and slid the ring into place. Then he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her hair, eyes, cheeks, and finally, her lips, salty with her tears.

Their celebration was cut short when Henry asked, “Did she say yes?”

Both of them dissolved into laughter. He was notorious for interrupting them when they were kissing, whether out of disgust or because he was simply oblivious.

“Aye, lad. She did,” Killian answered.

“Wait, you were in on this?” Emma asked her son.

“Yeah. Last night, Killian asked me if it was okay for him to marry you. I said it was, so that’s why we decided to come here after the game today - so he could oppose.”

“Propose,” Killian corrected, as Emma laughed.

Henry shrugged. “Whatever. So you’re getting married? We’re gonna be a real family?” His excitement grew as he realized what it all meant.

“Yeah, kid. We’ll officially become a family. What do you think about that?”

It wasn’t a surprise to either of them that his answer was a loud, “YAY!” while Winston barked his approval, too.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma and Killian were married sixteen months later, the day before the second anniversary of when they first declared their love for each other. Fortunately, there was no snowstorm on their wedding day.

Henry proudly walked his mother down the aisle to meet Killian at the altar. The boy shook his soon-to-be stepfather’s hand, then nearly tackled him in a hug, before taking his place beside Liam.

The ceremony was beautiful and perfect, which in Killian’s mind, matched his bride. Everyone had a wonderful time at the reception afterwards, celebrating the couple with food and dancing. Liam’s best man speech caused Killian’s face to turn red with embarrassment, as everyone else’s turned red with laughter.

The traditional father/daughter dance was replaced with a mother/son dance instead. As the two most important people in his life moved in small circles in the middle of the floor to the song “How Long Will I Love You?”, Killian repeatedly swallowed past the lump in his throat and wiped away a stray tear or two.

While the newlyweds enjoyed a honeymoon in a tropical climate, Henry and Winston stayed with Belle and Liam. The boy and his dog slept in the spare bedroom that was in the process of being turned into a nursery for Henry’s future cousin, due to arrive in two months.

Emma and Killian purchased a larger house, two blocks from the Storybrooke harbor, six months after their wedding. While they were signing the final legal papers for the sale, they were beginning another legal process.

One morning in October, Henry came into the kitchen and gave Winston an extra helping of food in celebration of their pet’s ‘gotcha day’. Sitting down at the table, he was excited to find his favorite breakfast of French toast with bacon on his plate, and folded pieces of paper beside it.

After drowning his food in maple syrup and taking a huge bite, he picked up the papers and asked, “What are these?”

“Open them and see,” Emma said, her face glowing with excitement as she met Killian’s eyes across the table.

Henry did as he was told, scanning the page until he realized that the first one was a certificate of adoption. His eyes shot up to land on Killian. “Does this mean you’re officially my dad?”

“Aye, lad, I’m legally your father. I signed the final papers a couple of weeks ago. We’ve just been waiting for that other paper to arrive before we told you.”

Henry slid the second paper out from underneath the first, his eyes widening even more. “It says Henry Andrew Jones. Is that really my name now?”

“Yeah, kid,” Emma answered. “That’s your new birth certificate and it names Killian as your father. What do you think?”

In answer, he jumped out of his chair and ran around the table to fly into Killian’s waiting arms. “I think it’s the best day of my life!” he exclaimed. “I love you, Dad!”

“I love you, too, my boy,” Killian replied, a slight catch in his voice at hearing Henry call him that title for the very first time.

Henry turned to give Emma a hug, also. “It’s pretty cool that Winston and I both have the same ‘gotcha day’,” he said.

His parents laughed. “I didn’t think about that,” Emma admitted.

That Christmas, their friends and family received a card which included a picture of Henry, Emma, Killian and Winston in front of their decorated, live Christmas tree. It was signed:

Happy Holidays! With love from the Jones family.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Thank you so very much for reading!

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[charonyx]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MALLEUS!!!!!

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Happy Birthday to Best Dragon Boy!! 🥳🥳🥳

To celebrate, Imma post some points as to why he's my favorite! Of course, there are nuances that are hard to capture with words or subconscious things that endear me to him, but these are some general points that just made me come to love him so. Also, spoilers in the last point for the newest chapter released on EN!

- His contradictory nature, wanting to be with people, but also liking being alone. He wants people to accept him and like hanging out with him, but he also prefers his alone time to recharge

- His unabashed love for gargoyles, love that he has a passion that he's open to share with anyone who asks

- He hardly tells anyone his fears or anything that might be troubling him so he may appear like an unbreakable pillar. He has been taught/has observed that he mustn't load his problems on anyone else, keep it in and be the King his people need (and, hopefully, he can learn in chapter 7 that he DOES have emotions that should be EXPRESSED)

- Open to new experiences, likes learning new things and trying to be independent so as to not feel helpless

- Sincere and earnest in whatever he tries

- Hardworking and strives to become better in learning knowledge and understanding culture

- His teasing nature. Sometimes he may take it a bit far since he never had friends before to learn when he's crossing a line, so he tries to connect in a way he knows how: teasing with that gorgeous smirk and slitted eyes

- His full laugh when Yuu or anyone surprises him

- The way he dresses like a Victorian man and us seeing even a bit of his arms through sheer material is enough to be scandalous. Traditional yet open. 

- How he is usually reserved but when alone or with people he trusts he'll be visibly happy (Yuu inviting him to VDC and Lilia seeing the effect it had on him) 

- Going to a new place or situation, he studies and investigates as much as he can to fully enjoy the experience and be respectful towards possible culture, people, material, etc. 

- When he considers someone or something his home, he'll protect it, no matter the cost

- The way he's open minded like how he accepts Silver given his distaste for humans (probably was told that humans killed his Mom). He may seem unmovable but he will consider all perspectives and possibilities

- Petty in a cute way, pouting and sulking and stating he's NOT POUTING (pouts harder) (so cute oml)

- The way he talks to Gao Gao Dragon-Kun, calling it a scamp and caring for it so much. His smile and teasing tone towards it is so ugh. 

- He just cares so, so much. Finding every life precious

- His physical strength is terrifying to think about, but it just makes him more attractive. Him having to be careful and hold back on his natural strength. The restraint 

- EVEN IN HIS OVERBLOT FORM HE'S STILL CURIOUS WHEN TALKING TO ORTHO AND ASKING TECHNOLOGY QUESTIONS, like "A UTM? What's that? What's that an abbreviation for?"

Even in that state, he still craves for knowledge and learning what he doesn't know. I just love that curiosity so much.

Agh, anyways! I hope this year we can see more Malleus! But also I'm scared cause if we see him again I have a feeling he's gonna break down and cry once he comes back down to reality and y'all

I ain't ready for that

I'll be a sobbing mess on the floor

BUT! Positive note! Malleus exists! And I hope everything goes well for him and he grows.